#the last gif I was crying my ass off in the theatre

[carolinasgirl]

omg pls write something smutty about val purposely making Harry jealous and they have really rough sex in one of the uni classrooms?!?!

all blurbs are under the tag toxic!harry

LAST BLURB ... 3 months later ...

"Harry, I'm not doing this right now," Valencia explains, legs sprawled out over his lap as she scrolls through her phone, just aimlessly retweeting funny tweets and watching TikToks.

He sighs, throwing his head back. "You're being fuckin' boring." He sighs. "It's an escape room. It's for my birthday." He explains.

"Well, I'm boring then aren't I, Harry?" She sighs, voice careless and as low as a whisper. It kind of hurt her that he said that. It's not that she's boring, she has a reason why she doesn't want to go and she's tried to subtly drop it in before, but Harry has yet to string the pieces together.

"Don't take it like that, I just—" Valencia swings her legs off his lap with a sigh and slips on her sliders, standing up from the sofa. “Where are ye’ going?” His accent heightens as his hands slap against his thighs when he sits up.

“To class.”

“Let me walk you—“

“See you later, H.”

—

“Jack, you’re incredible. Thank you for this.” Valencia cheers for the thousandth time, holding the business card in her hand as Jack pushes the door open to leave the lecture theatre.

Jack chuckles at her excitement. “It’s the least I can do Val.” He stops in his steps, turning to face her. “I am sorry about… everything.” He sighs.

“It’s—“ Valencia starts, but gets cut off by Jack pushing her hair back behind her ear. “Jack, I really—“

Once again, Valencia gets cut off by a strong grip on her arm, pulling her back. A gasp leaves her lips as she gets dragged into an empty classroom.

Her attention gets diverted to the green-eyed man who stood tall, looking down at her as their chests nearly touch. She’s breathless, still in complete shock from his actions. “Harry, what the fuck was that?”

“What the fuck was what? Shouldn’t I be asking what the fuck you were doing Val?” He vents.

She scoffs at the audacity of that sentence to leave his mouth. “You really haven’t changed have you?”

Before she even finishes that sentence Harry is already talking over her. “Oh, here we go, here we are. I’m the bad guy, aren’t I?” He chuckles, shaking his head. “Don’t,” He points his finger out at her, “Make me out to be a fucking twat.”

“You do that perfectly fine on your own.”

That flipped something in Harry. He’s not acted like this in years and maybe Valencia is right, maybe he hasn’t changed. But right now, he wants to prove that he’s far from the twat he makes himself out to be.

With his hands on her hips, he spins her around, bending her over the desk. “Thought ye’ grew out this fuckin’ attitude.” Harry almost growls as he pushes down her joggers, slapping her ass when he notices her lack of underwear.

A moan leaves her lips at the harsh contact and she tries to push herself back against him when she hears the shuffling out of his pants. “You bring it out of me.”

“Well, I’m about to fuck it out of you babe.” He chuckles, his hand around the base of his cock, pushing his tip inside of her, his head falling back as he slowly pushes inside, inch by inch, feeling her stretch around his throbbing member, the heat and the wetness overwhelming him. It’s so much for him, he sometimes forgets how good it feels to be inside of her.

Anything Harry does turns Valencia on. But, something about him pulling his cock out halfway, just to spit down on himself and ram back into her… it fucks her up, she knows if she wasn’t bent over this wooden desk and actually saw it, she would’ve passed out.

Harry quickly forms a fast and rough pace, hearing all sorts of sinful sounds of their skin slapping which has become music to his ears, but nothing tops hearing Valencia in a complete whimpering mess.

“Oh my fucking god, Harry.” She chokes out, nearly crying in pleasure, from how good he feels, hitting all her deepest spots and almost tearing her apart.

“Ye’ like that?” Harry’s voice is raspy and it makes Valencia clench around him, making him let out a content sigh, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip as his eyes roll back. But, he’s quick to notice he didn’t receive a reply, only a pathetic string of whimpers. “I said. Do. Ye’. Like. That?” He punctuates each word with a hard thrust and it almost has her shaking.

“Yes! Fuck yes! I love it, Harry.” His hand sneaks round to play with her clit as his angle changes and her legs begin to shake completely. “OH, shit. Harry!” She moans a little too loudly, hand reaching back to push against his torso, she doesn’t know what she’s doing. She doesn’t want him to stop, but holy hell it feels so good.

“Ah, ah, ah.” Harry teasingly tuts at her, slapping her hand away. “Take it, princess. Take it like the good girl I know you are f’me.” He leans down to whisper in her ear one hand resting on the table as the other begins to rub circles against her clit.

Harry knows it’s coming, but to Valencia, it feels like her whole body is crashing down. Her thighs are trembling, arms are trembling and she twitches every so often as Harry’s thrusts begin to get sloppy at the feeling of her cumming around his cock, absolutely creaming him.

His name is on repeat against her pretty plump lips and it sounds so good, she looks so good, she is so good. He can’t handle it anymore. “Baby, oh my god, fuck. You’re so tight.” He grunts, giving one last thrust as he lets go, a loud moan leaving his lips as he falls, head resting against her shoulder. His cum is leaking out of her, running down his cock and slightly down her thighs.

Valencia’s shaky hand reaches for the back of his neck, her head turning to give him a small kiss, making him pepper them all over her face. A breathless giggle leaves her lips as she shakes her head at him. “You’re insane.”

He chuckles, standing upright and pulling out of her, watching his cum drip out of her sweet cunt. “M’sorry Val, baby.” He sighs. “M’so so sorry.” He bends down, licking a long stripe along her entrance. The taste of them both mixed together blessing his tastebuds.

“It’s okay.” She sighs in pleasure. “Just—“ She swallows, pushing his head back, too sensitive to deal with him eating her out, especially since she’s just realised where they are. “Don’t start doing that shit again. I don’t want to go back to the old us before we’re even together.” She tells him.

“I know. I won’t. I promise I’ll be better for you.”

[nincompoopydoo]

PAIRING, BAGELS, REPEAT

— US AGAINST THE WORLD ; PART 4 / ?

( credits to @animusrox for this gif )

PAIRING: Bruce Wayne x reader

WORD COUNT: 2247 hot diggy dog

SUMMARY: You have a heart-to-heart conversation with one of your students before the play and you're hit with the realization that your love for Bruce may be more than meets the eye. hence, you’re starting to wonder if it was a mistake you can never fix.

A/N: This one’s long and kinda depressing. I’m in an angsty mood now whoops. Nevertheless, thank you for reading this series, the bagels will make its appearance and enjoy this one folks.

WARNINGS: Anxiety, depressing thoughts.

MASTERLIST ; MASTERPOST

The night of the show arrived quicker than you anticipated. The flurry of theatre kids rushing about backstage is quite the sight, feeling the incredible sense of pride of a mother for her children. Yet in prayer, you ask Mrs. Wilson for the gift of strength and ability to manage a bunch of highly-strung teenagers. It’s only Shakespeare after all but you knew that wasn’t the genuine nature behind their stage jitters. With all tickets sold out within a week, it has easily become the biggest event of the year aside from homecoming. It may be a little pretentious for a high school production of an over-performed Shakspeare play to emerge as the highlight of the year, but you know it will help with some of the students’ portfolios for acting school.

The clock ticks—thirty minutes before showtime and panic starts to creep.

Your fingertips dance along the selvage of the extensive drapery of the stage as lighting queues are being run through for the last time. The urge of curiosity lets you crack open the curtain as you peeked at the rest of the theatre. The bustling crowd made up of mostly teenagers with seats rapidly being filled, it’s certainly a sight for sore eyes. Amongst the settling audience, you spot Bruce, seated between Mr. Walken, the principal, and Mr. Huckleberry, the vice-principal, likely being shamelessly asked for donations. He looks engaged, but his posture and the gaze of his eyes tell a very different story—Bruce is barely listening to a word they’re saying.

He then turns in the direction of your hiding spot and despite the distance, he catches your eye, immediately recognizing it’s you spying from behind the curtains. You watch the curve of his lips turn up into more of a smirk, swiftly sending a wink your way. You instantly disappear behind the curtains, cheeks burning.

You sometimes find it hard to believe you’re sleeping with the man with no strings attached because you’re incredibly attracted to him.

Someday, you’ll burst out into an exaggerated love confession, and you know it’s going to be ugly. It’s a reality check and right now, it’s the last thing you want. Running away from your problems is more of a habit than a choice as you would rather live in the world your mind has created, where miracles are made and defects cease to exist. Anyone would trade the cruelties of reality for a perfect one yet getting too caught up in a daydream will eventually evolve into toxicity. Bruce orbits the very core of your problems and daydreams. You want to run away from him and allow yourself to be engulfed by his presence at the same time.

You just need...to breathe. Hence, the second dressing room has a weird stench to it. It’s a mess but it’s empty. Yet, it seems you aren’t the only one in need of space, away from everyone else. Shaniqua is seated at the far corner of the room on a crooked metal chair, dressed in a somewhat modernized version of an Elizabethan era dress. Very elaborate and theatrical. Despite her introverted character, she was constantly bright-eyed and keen during your classes. She had a drive like no other. Hell, she miraculously memorized all her lines in two days.

You’ve never seen a furrow of the girl’s brows, until now, and it worries you. Even her glitter-covered eyes could not conceal the dismay they portray with prominence. Gingerly, you made your way to her as she stared at her fidgeting hands. It was only when you settled on the opposite dusty old chair when she finally noticed your presence.

“Stage fright, huh?” you casually asked, resting your arm on the dressing table. She mirrors your posture, heaving a deep sigh, and shakes her head. “No, it’s just,” A pause, her gaze finds yours. You nod, flashing her a smile. It’s a simple gesture that you’re here to listen. “It’s about Oscar...” You catch a hint of a smile as she trailed off and in an instant, your brow raises with curiosity. Oh? Another beat of silence, her eyes dart around the room. You sit quietly with patience because you knew she had more to say.

“It’s just that doing this play has got me thinking a lot about my feelings. I mean, if Romeo and Juliet could be lovers, despite their feuding families, then it must be easy enough for me to admit that I like Oscar.”

“You have a point.” You chuckle, eyes crinkling with amusement. Sometimes she thinks too much for her own good. She reminds you of Bruce. Shaniqua flashes you a faint smile, lips pressed with doubt. “But why am I finding it so hard to just tell him that?”

You stayed silent for a moment or two, mind deep in thought. The chair creaks as you shift in your seat. “Well, could it be that you aren’t sure if he likes you back?”

A hum in response, shrugging coyly as she mumbled a ‘maybe’. Although it was clear as day to you that Oscar liked her back, you wondered if her doubts emerged due to their differences in character. The familiarity of the situation is beginning to feel a lot like deja vu.

“How do you know that someone is the one?” Her sudden question catches you off guard because, in all honesty, you aren’t confident if you knew the answer. A straightforward question, commonly seen in the pages of teenage magazines, written for innocent eyes. You knew its true nature and it terrifies you. The image of Bruce charges through your thoughts like rushing water, memories of times when the two of you were younger clouding your mind. You forcefully push back your university days, buried back deep into your conscience.

“I don’t exactly know the answer to that but in my opinion, it’s—it’s the feeling of completeness when you love them and know they love you. They may be different from you, but it doesn’t make you love them any less. There’s no conflict or strife; it’s just the two of you against the world.”

Those words were raw and genuine, carefully crafted directly from the heart. You weren’t surprised by your words because you’ve thought about it a lot, especially on nights you slept on Bruce’s bed. Maybe, you do love him, and that's a huge ass problem. It’s amazing how unexpected situations tend to encourage apprehension on large issues you never knew existed in the first place. Perhaps it was your astonishing lack of discernment when it came to matters that could potentially alter your life.

Tonight, a sixteen-year-old girl did just that.

Amid your growing anxiety, you manage to catch sight of the wall clock, hung on the other side of the room. It’s now eight minutes until showtime. Your eyes are now wide as you sprung up from your seat in the sudden realization that everyone should be at their respective positions two minutes ago. “Oh God, we’re running late. Shaniqua, word of advice—don’t end up regretting something you didn’t do,” You shoot her a pointed look, index finger stretching towards her. “Now, you really need to go, or we’ll have to delay and you know Mr. Walken hates waiting.”

-

It’s a quarter to nine, and the theatre is empty. Outside, the foyer and the hallways are buzzing with the remaining audience, lingering and sharing inane conversations as others wait for a car to take them home. You had only just finished rearranging the costumes in the wardrobe of the dressing room. You tried to sweep the scatter of glitter all over the floor but it deemed a task as impossible; you’ll deal with it next week.

You’re sitting in the seat at the front row, nearest to the aisle with a large box filled with props on your lap. Alone in transcendental silence, feeling as empty as the theatre itself. It was partly the conversation you had with Shaniqua that hit you with the reminder of all the mistakes you made that have led you to this unchanging world of a blur that takes the blame for the wretched feeling in your chest. Yet, as the show progressed, hearing the words of affection from two lovers had sent your mind reeling. You were desperate to head home, crawl into bed and potentially cry yourself to sleep but the growing anxiety forbids it, you don’t even think you could drive home.

So, you stillness of the theatre reminds you of Edward Hopper’s painting, Solitary Figure in a Theater. With eyes shut, you pretend you are the figure in the painting, sheathed in black, sitting alone in the cavernous dark.

You hear the door of the theatre squeak, swinging open followed by the shuffling of feet. You don’t look at first, too tired anyway. You’d assume someone had either forgotten something or it was the janitor that you’re sure is going to be upset over the glitter massacre in the dressing room. It looked like a crime scene, except it was the murder of a literal unicorn. You made a mental note to send an apology sandwich of some sorts next week.

It was the familiarity in the whiff of cologne that made you snap your eyes wide open, looking over your shoulder to meet with the sight of Bruce, ambling down the aisle towards you. He smiles, and you mirror him, shifting in your seat and nearly toppling the box to the ground. “What are you still doing here?” He smiles, and you mirror him, shifting in your seat and nearly toppling the box to the ground. “I could ask you the same question.” He settles in the seat next to you, elbow brushing against yours. Your head tilts, gesturing to the box. Bruce merely hums and nods thoughtfully.

“So, how was the play? Does it get a Wayne seal of approval?” There’s a hint of teasing in the curve of your lips as his eyes drift to the stage. “I liked it. The kids have talent.” Your eyes glint with amusement, your smile growing wider. “I never knew you were a fan of romance.” His laugh comes out more like a huff of air, crinkled eyes meeting yours, and nudges you lightly. “Well, now you know.”

He recognizes the way your smile doesn’t quite reach your eyes and the way you’re fussing with the edges of the box on your lap. Something is bothering you and he knows it. He nudges you once more. “Penny for your thoughts?”

You blink once. Then twice, face wincing instinctively. You keep forgetting how well Bruce can read people, especially you. You exhale slowly as he watches you struggle to pick the right words.

“It’s really nothing. It’s just-” you say after a long minute, cutting yourself short. Then, you turn to Bruce. “I’m growing older, and I’ve spent my entire life in a fog with so much fear for reality, I’m afraid it’s too late to fix all my mistakes and regrets.” Your voice dwindles with every word that escaped your lips. You were young, naïve with the notion that time was extensive to make decisions without thinking it through. To know that you could never take back the things you did. Saturn’s rising, it’s a wake-up call now that you’re older and the fear that you would never change creeps onto you with every passing birthday.

Bruce defines the epitome of the sinking feeling in your chest whenever you lay in bed at night and let your mind reel about your existence. Yet, it isn’t as simple as you want it to be. The boy you met at university has grown into a far more complex and entangled mess of the grief of his parents, the responsibility he held over this city and the drive to just...keep moving on. For the longest time, it was him against the world, and a part of you wants to believe that it doesn’t have to be that way. That maybe, you could be enough for him.

He glanced away from you, trying to hide the despondency in his eyes. He holds back a sigh as he speaks, “Do you regret us doing this?” As vague as his question is, you know what he exactly means. He remembers the time the two of you used to exchange senseless conversations and laughter so vividly that it scares him. Juvenile friends, lacking the knowledge to know what love really was. Hence, the agreement—it was just two friends, messing around. Nothing could go wrong. Now, the hole has been dug in too deep, with no way of getting out.

“I don’t,” you reply and with just two simple words, his chest feels like fire. It was the way you had said it, with so much confidence and assurance, despite the intricacy of this relationship. For the first time in a long time, you were extremely sure about an answer. You could never regret Bruce. Never.

It’s almost hesitant in the way his hand finds yours, but it represents his care for you, even if you may not know it. The warmth of his hand feels like fire. Hell, your chest feels like it’s on fire, heart burning for the man beside you. “I’ll drive you home,” he whispers with a squeeze of your hand. You flash him a grateful smile as the two of you drift into a comfortable silence. Silence so eloquent that you don’t feel so empty anymore. No longer a solitary figure trapped in a painting but now two, hand in hand, against the world.

TAGLIST

@raineeace

[jaysevhls]

Be Careful | Christopher Herrmann

Request: could you do a herrmann imagine where the reader is his daughter who recently became 51s new candidate, and she’s a really good firefighter but gets badly hurt on a call and he’s worried and then in the hospital after she wakes up they talk and he says how proud he is of her or something soft like that?

Pairing: Christopher Herrmann x Daughter!Reader / Chicago Fire

Warnings: Injuries.

Author's note: Hi, from now requests are open again. If you have some suggestions for imagines about Halloween or something, feel free to ask❤️ All of the requests I got before will be posted in this and next week. I'm so sorry for taking this that long, but I have a hard time and school is making it only worse, I hope you understand.

Working with your dad wasn't the kind of thing you have always wanted. You were sure that life will bring you something unexpected, but you never imagined working in Chicago Fire Department at the same station with your dad. To be honest, it was awesome. You always had him by your side, you knew how his day went, you understood him like no one. Sometimes things were rough, especially when engine wasn't on the scene and he couldn't see how you're doing on the truck. From the first day he treated you like his colleague, he knew that he can't put his feelings over job, because that's the only way to get distracted. He trusted you, more than everything, especially when Casey was your capitan and always had your back.

You didn't like brining work to home, just like him, that's why your mom never pushed you to talk about hard call. This thing in your family worked pretty well.

"Hey dad, I was thinking, maybe you should go with mom tonight to the theatre or something? I can watch kids." you walked into break room after first call in the day.

"Uh, what's on your mind and how much money do you want?" he asked you.

"What? No, I just thought that you haven't been on a date for such a long time and now, when I got the night off I can stay with them." you hugged him from behind. He closed the newspaper and turned to look at you. He looked kinda confused and for sure, he didn't believe you. "Okay, if you don't want, you're staying with kids and I'm taking mom for a girl's night."

"Oh no no, that's not gonna happen, when you'll pick them?"

"I'll come home for a night. Gallo? What are you doing tonight?"

"Nothing, why?"

"You'll help me with my siblings, you owe me!" you said and walked out to the bathroom.

You stripped from your clothes and got to the shower. It was one of those day when after a case you're glad that everything in your life is going that way. You were happy, that was a sure thing. Even if something was missing, you couldn't notice that, because every single day you were surrounded by people who love you like a family member.

After you finish, you changed into fresh clothes, it was worthless after all, cause in every minute you could get a signal that you need to go, but comfort first.

You went back into break room, took some coffee and sat next to Christopher.

You were helping solving him the crossword.

"Herrmann, can I talk to you for a second?" Severide asked.

"Which one?" you and your dad asked in the same time.

"Not this time Y/N." you looked at him confused. Your father made his way to Kelly and looked kinda worried.

"So, I don't know how much things Y/N has told you but I'm sure you wanna know about this." you couldn't hear much of the conversation and you're glad, because it wasn't a right thing to listen to them, even if deep down you knew that conversation was about you.

"What do you mean Kelly? Something happened?"

"No no, everything is fine I think, it's just... Y/N applied to join the squad after finishing her being a candidate." now your dad looked confused and heartbroken?

"She never brought that around me. I thought that she's feeling okay on the truck."

"Yeah me too, but you need to know that I'm going to agree on this apply. She's an amazing firefighter and it would be nice to have her in squad. Besides, women know better, she would be really great. Don't worry, I'll always have her back, just like Casey did." Severide said.

"Yeah, thanks."

You finished your coffee and just in time you hard the alarm.

Quickly, you fixed your hair and got your uniform.

"Hey, Y/N? I heard that you want to join the Squad, congratulations." Casey said.

"Yeah, but... It's not a sure thing yet. I just really want to try, I hope you don't mind. I love being on the truck, but you know."

"Don't you dare think like this kiddo. I'm so proud of you and I'll always support you. You'll be great."

"Thank you, but please, don't tell my dad yet, I need to have this conversation with him on my own."

"Sure thing." he said. You looked at all the members in the truck. They were so happy that someone like you were with them, serving to the city and country. Gallo hugged you from the right side, while Mouch from the left.

"Okay guys, that's enough, you're gonna kill me with those hugs." you laughed.

You arrived on the scene and walked out of the truck. Casey gave you an order to stay behind him and to follow his movements.

The fire was spreading quickly, you saw a young woman running from the building.

"M-y my kids are in there, please, please help us..." she managed to say after she collapsed on the ground. You help Sylvie taking her to the ambo. Casey called you right after.

"Mask up guys, we're going on the second floor, Squad, you take the basement, engine cover us." you put your mask on and followed Matt. Stella and Blake were right behind you, calling and searching for people.

"Fire department, call out!" you yelled. Casey gave you an order to turn into right side while he and Stella will go on the left.

"The smoke is too dark, I barely see anything." Gallo said.

"Yeah me too, it's gonna collapse soon, we need to hurry." you answered, when you heard the loud crash and all you felt was a pain in your whole body. You couldn't breathe. Gallo was screaming your name and calling for backup.

"Mayday, mayday, Y/N Herrmann is down, the building just collapsed, she's on the first floor but her mask fell off, we need help."

Herrmann was standing with Boden next to the truck, helping with injuried people, while he heard Blake into his radio.

He couldn't think straight, he couldn't focus on what was happening.

Boden was holding him, because he couldn't let him go in there when building wasn't stable. After few minutes which last like hours, he saw Casey, Kidd, Gallo and Cruz walking out with you, while Severide held his mask at your face. You were unconscious and your head was bleeding.

"Guys, right here!" Sylvie yelled. They brought you on the stretcher. "She's not breathing and the pulse is weak."

Casey pulled your dad to let paramedics do their job. He was crying, but couldn't manage to say anything.

"Is-. She- she is okay? What happened? Casey, you promised to look after her." he asked.

"Hey, Herrmann. She was doing her job. I ordered her and Gallo to search that place, the floor wasn't stable and it collapsed. She has a broken leg and probably her arm is dislocated. They're taking her to Med, go with them." Herrmann made his way to the ambo. The whole ride was silent, his heart broke more after your heart stopped twice on the way.

"I can't loose you princess, please." he cried.

"She's tough, she's gonna be okay." Brett hugged him.

Hours passed by and nothing was said. They didn't know what was going on with you, you were in surgery for almost 4 hours.

"Casey? I'm sorry for what I said before. It wasn't your fault, I overreacted." your father said.

"It's okay, I get it."

"Herrmann?" Dr. Halstead appeared in the hall.

"How's she? Is she okay?"

"She's out of the surgery. She had a opened break on the leg, but everything is fine now. Also, she had a pretty bad head injury, but for now, we don't know if this caused any damages. We need to wait until she'll wake up.

"Can I see her?" he asked. Hall was filled with relief and some kind of happiness. You were alive and that was the only thing that matters.

"Yes, of course."

Herrmann walked into your room. When he saw all of those tubes and machines, his heart just broke. It all caused a painful flashbacks of his memories when he was stabbed. He took your hand and kissed it.

He spent almost 6 hours next to you, because he wanted to be with you when you wake up. Your mom was there too. She brought him fresh clothes and something to eat.

"D-dad?" he immediately woke up.

"Hey honey, I'm right here." he helped you with taking piece of hair of your face.

"What happened? Where am I?" you asked.

"Rough call you would said. Listen Y/N, I'm so sorry that I wasn't there, maybe if-"

"Dad, please stop. It's okay, I'm fine, hey. I'm right here and I'm not going anywhere soon."

"Mom is here too, but I told her to get some coffee for us, I'll go to tell her that you woke up, should I get the nurse too? Maybe dr. Halstead? Are you in pain?"

"Dad, sit down, now. I'm okay, really."

"Oh sweetie. I'm so glad that you're okay. When I saw you, when they took you... I was so afraid that I'm gonna loose you. But deep down I knew... I knew that you're one of the kind, my daughter, who will handle everything on her own. I knew that you're gonna make it, you're so tough. I couldn't be more proud babygirl. I'm so happy that I'm the one who you call dad." he cried. You showed him to come closer and you hugged him tightly.

"Oh my god, baby, you woke up!" now Cindy walked into your room. You all hugged and stayed like this for couple of minutes.

"Um, right. Y/N, your mom and I need to tell you something."

"Please don't make me want to almost die again, are you pregnant?" they laughed.

"No, oh god no. We wanted to tell you that we're so excited that you want to join the squad."

"What? But how? I swear I'll beat his ass."

"Severide told me yesterday. He's so happy to have you there and we're too. You need to know that no matter what, we'll always support you sweetheart. We love you."

"I love you too."

[dylanhawth]

[ LORENZO ZURZOLO, CISMAN, HE/HIM ] shh ! DYLAN HAWTHORNE, the TWENTY year old SECOND year ANTHROPOLOGY major from HARTFORD, CT is known as a TOURMALINE  around here. HE was invited to join because HE PUBLISHED A COLLECTION OF SHORT STORIES ANONYMOUSLY THAT GARNERED A BIT OF FOLLOWING AND RECENTLY STEPPED FORWARD AS THE AUTHOR, and now, they’re here to stay. HE reminds me of THE NERVOUSNESS OF A FIRST KISS, LEAVING SECRET MESSAGES IN LIBRARY BOOKS, DRIVING AIMLESSLY WITH THE WINDOWS ROLLED DOWN ON A WARM SUMMER NIGHT WHILE THE RADIO HUMS A PLAYLIST CURATED FOR YOU BY YOUR BEST FRIEND.

[ big ass bio ] | [ connections ] | [ pinterest ] | [ playlist ] 

ooc. 

omfg hello. i can’t tell you how excited and happy i am to be here. i was too nervous to apply for the last three months but i decided to stop being a Coward and just try. im SO happy to be here, it��s the highlight of my week tbh lmao. anyway i am mar, she/her, 24, est. i live in nyc and all i do is visit the planetarium and cry. i’m so fucking bad at these so im just gonna LIST things and hope you get the vibe. i am a pisces sun, scorpio moon. i prob have a napoleon complex a little bit lmao. my favorite social media site is goodreads and i get rlly sad when my friends rate books i love poorly dfljskdfs. i can touch my tongue to my nose. i eat a lot of persimmons. i have a favorite rock at my local park that i visit a lot. idk dfskjls. i’m v friendly tho so pls hmu. i send a lot of memes, and love making meme edits for the chars so im rlly sorry in advance if you guys hate that. 

01.      basics.

NAME.   dylan h. hawthorne. ALIASES. dyl, hawth.   AGE.  twenty. HOMETOWN. hartford, ct. GENDER.  cismale. PRONOUNS.   he/him.

 02.      appearance.

EYES.   green. HAIR.   brown. HEIGHT.   6”0 BUILD.   lean. BIRTHMARKS   /   BURNS   /   SCARS.   a birthmark the shape of australia on his left thigh. TATTOOS.   n/a. PIERCINGS.   n/a.

03.      habits.

ALCOHOL   ?  socially. SMOKING   ?  socially. HABITS.  fidgets in chairs. cracks knuckles and back often. nervous laughter. chewing on pencils. talking to his plants. dogearing books. staring off into space and applying chapstick for a prolonged period of time. getting overly competitive about boardgames. stress cleaning. carries a book in his bag always. night owl. incredibly impatient when the internet is slow. creature of habit when it comes to menus, orders the same shit over and over again. LIKES.   feeding the ducks at the local pond. the smell of the earth after a rainstorm. the way music sounds coming from another room. kissing. watering his plants. inside jokes. making wishes in fountains. discussing a recently finished book with someone. making handmade cards for friends on their birthday. fireworks. coming of age films. packages wrapped in twine. jogs. the way friday nights feels when you’re with someone you love. the feeling you get leaving the movie theatre. DISLIKES.   being late. having too many coins on him. coffee with no sugar. when people speak loudly in the library. doing laundry. handshakes with too much squeeze. receiving voicemails. untidiness. golf. charles dickens. lectures with no student input. hot weather. confrontation. being caught in a lie. losing his umbrella. people who cheat during games. rainboots. bad table manners. humidity.

04.      personality.

MYERS-BRIGGS.   infp. ENNEAGRAM. the helper. ZODIAC.   pisces. TEMPERAMENT.   melancholic. ALIGNMENT.   neutral good. ARCHETYPE.   the lover. POSITIVE.   empathetic. sensitive. intelligent. charismatic. easygoing. gentle. loyal. passionate. romantic. humble. supportive. gregarious. playful. diligent. NEGATIVE.   deceitful. gullible. finicky. naive. obsessive. perfectionistic. secretive. timid. possessive. weak-willed. indecisive. cynical. indulgent. summary: basically, dylan is a love starved, people pleasing nervous wreck. big ass nerd who wants to be everyones friend, wants to be liked SO BAD. very charming and charismatic, comes off as fairly confident and comfortable at first. is able to make everyone feel loved and like they’re the most important person in the world, however lacks a backbone. is both romeo and juliet, and just as dumb as both of them too. 

05.      hc’s.

dylan was a football player in high school, believe it or not. he was rather good at it too, which is sort of jarring considering his pacifistic nature. however, he DID land on someone incorrectly at some point during his senior year, and broke their wrist. he quickly abandoned the sport altogether because of how guilty he felt. 

touched on this briefly but dylan really… loves indiana jones lmao. like, it’s quite ironic given his absolutely inability to be a badass, and lack of suaveness. however, he admires indy’s lust for adventure. he also was obsessed with the mummy as a kid. both of these were incredible sources in his very irrational decision to sudden anthropology. however, he does really love and admire anthropology. his favorite ethnography is the spirit catches you and you fall down, which makes him cry like a little bitch every time he even thinks about it. 

he’s the second oldest, but he is also baby. he is SUCH a big momma’s boy. he misses his mom so much. he writes to her often, and of course calls her even more. despite being six-foot tall, he still goes home and rests his head on his mother's lap, falls asleep as she runs her fingers through his hair. he often tries to find native english plants and flowers to press, and mail back to his mother in the form of bookmarks. has nEVER STEPPED ON A CRACK IN HIS LIFE, BABY.

just leaves a shit ton of notes in books in the library. some are riddles, some are poetry, some are commentary on the book, some are doodles. just depends on how he’s feeling for that book. he doesn’t tell anyone he does it, but he’s waiting for someone to connect the dots with his handwriting and writing style. 

speaking of plants, his room is basically a big greenhouse. he has so many plants, and takes serious care of them all. he has a little humidifier in his space for them, marks down when he waters what plants, and has a label maker to label them all with a name. they are all named after shakespeare characters. 

dyl is a doodler, so much so that he contributes to the school paper as a cartoonist. his cartoons are usually just random thoughts he has, but sometimes they get political and he works marxism into them. (this man loves marx.) 

[ suicide implied tw, death mention tw ] he dresses like a victorian boy in love with his roommate who has recently died of scarlet fever and in his mourning, plans to disappear in the bog by the school by mysterious circumstances and become a ghost that haunts the college with his lover. like lots of gray and slacks and ties ands ties and sweaters, lol. also he has glasses that he never wears because he can never find them! catch him squinting in your classroom because he can’t see SHIT. too shy to ask you for your notes though, doesn’t wanna inconvenience you! but when he’s Out on the Town®, he fucking wears like, tacky patterned shirts that are expensive but ugly. someone please help him. 

all about fun socks! he loves owning socks that have dumb little images on them. if you get him a pair of fun socks, he’d absolutely go nuts. his entire week: made. 

he leaves his roommate limericks when he senses they are sad. tapes em to the bathroom mirror or leaves them in the fridge. also loves buying people presents. tiny ones. like haunted looking things from second hand stores, or your favorite chocolate. also is the sort of friend that has EVERYTHING in his bag, in case someone cuts themselves or has a headache. can be a bit of a mom himself. it’s the little things, y’know? 

prob still in his emo phase. listens to way too mcr to not be lmao.

eco-friendly king, will not stand for you not recycling. 

if you will allow him, he will attempt to have a secret handshake with you. he’s a child. is dying for someone to memorize the parent trap handshake and indulge him. 

cannot sit still in a chair. fidgets an excessive amount, the bobbing of his knee and the squirming around. it just never ends. 

bi. that’s the hc.

he’s a little bit in love with everyone he meets if you couldn’t tell, and it’s fucking disastrous. 

he is based loosely off: patroclus ( the song of achilles ), ponyboy curtis ( the outsiders ), laurie laurence ( little women ), eduardo saverin ( the social network ), remus lupin ( hp ), oliver marks ( if we were villains. ) 

( @opalsmedia​ )

[baekthecorgi]

rewrite the stars (haechan) prologue genre: royalty au, slight fluff, angst summary: after 17 years of living normally, haechan receives a life-changing announcement waiting on his doorstep.

part i.

bulleted series omg this is my first time

are y’all ready for some royal fluff

omf just kill me already i mean prince haechan uwu

so you first knew haechan as your loud and obnoxious neighbor

until eventually, he became your seatmate and your best friend who you have a love-hate relationship with

mostly love (wink wink) but ofc you wouldn’t confess that

you kept your feelings for him since middle school because you’re that good at acting since you are the school’s renowned theatre actress

and haechan was, well, one of the mischievous kids in a popular group

they called themselves the dreamies

you thought it was hella lame lmao

hella lame if it weren’t for the crowd of girls constantly being the attracted by the group

you figured that keeping the friendship label would be of benefit for the two of you

you’ve been best friends since you were basically what - pushing each other off the line to be the first one to slide at the playground

you don’t want to ruin the friendship you built over the years, right?

hell nawww

you kept your feelings safe and sound, locked in a chest (pun intended) deep inside you

until, mark, the other weird ass lee, noticed

“what was that?”

“what was what?” you replied, chomping on the chips haechan bought for you

“the googly eyes”

his seagull brows seemingly teasing you, gave it away

“idk what you’re talking about mark”

“you were all ‘thanks haechan!’ and your eyes were making this heart shaped thingy like the emoji. plus your smile, whoah, has your lips stretched that wide???”

“stfu mork”

one by one the dreamies took notice of your reaction towards haechan’s gestures towards you

from the simple act of buying you lunch to haechan literally piggy backing you from school to your house

to quote na jaemin, “damn, you are soooo whipped”

yes, maybe, you are kind of head over heels over the boy

but to the extent of being sooo whipped?

nah

hahahahhhahahahahahahokyEShhahahhahahaaha

everything was going fine until you hung out at his house on a friday night

his mom was out of town and you were gonna have a sleepover to accompany him for the weekend

it was a quarter past midnight when a mysterious knock startled the both of you

you almost ruined the blanket tent the two of you made

haechan was sweet enough to arrange your pillow fort

cause that’s what he did best

actually, haechan did a good job splaying the popcorn everywhere

that your dumb loser

why did haechan have to pick a horror movie for this tgif hangout

haechan handed you a baseball bat

“i know i’ve been protecting you since we basically became best friends but this would be my sub for the meantime”

you didn’t know butterflies could get into your stomach

i mean, your heart is fluttering and you could probably sense a tinge of reddish pink tinting your cheeks

“okay, dork?” haechan gave a smug smile before going to the front door

well that had to ruin the moment

not really

“good evening, prince donghyuck.”

the bat you were holding suddenly slipped from your hand

he can’t be the lost prince of korea

you heard haechan sigh and you practically knew he was rolling his eyes

“not now, taeil. my mom asked for eighteen years. i still have two more months.”

“but your grandfather is ill, prince donghyuck. you have to come with me. now.”

knowing haechan, he was quite the stubborn kid from the bunch

sensing the urgency from taeil’s voice, you stepped behind him before haechan recognized your presence

he gave you a warm smile. one which could melt your insides.

“you have to go. your family needs you.”

“but you’ll be left alone”

it’s cute how this kid can be so selfless despite his mischievous acts

“c’mon loser, you know i’ll be fine”

he muttered a soft ‘okay’ before walking away with taeil ushering him to a limo

he gave you one last glance

cause he knew well this would be the last time you’ll be seing him as your best friend haechan

the next time he sets foot on your neighborhood, he’s prince donghyuck

note: new series with a new bias lmao im having feels thinking about prince donghyuck. he’s so fit to be a prince im literally crying ;w; also, this is the first bulleted scenario i did for nct (and first of the nct members lol) next update coming soon! :) drop some feedbacks on my ask!! it’s must appreciated uwu | send requests | masterlist

[rantsandsparkles]

The Woman King – Movie Review (Spoiler Free)

See this is why I really should watch trailers.

I went into this one completely blind. Based off the title and photo on fandango I had very rough idea about what this movie was about – Viola Davis being a badass warrior in Africa. That’s all I knew. Honestly I wasn’t even planning on going to see this one because going to see “black” movies in theaters is sometimes a trying experience because all the other trailers before the movie are usually “black” movies as well and it just feels like I’m being pandered and condescended to. Its like they’re like “oh a only a black person would go to see this so here black person, look at all the other trailers with black people because that’s all you watch” .  I think its also really telling that someone who goes to the movies as much as I do /sees a lot of trailers, managed to not see A single trailer for this in the past few months. Why is that? (why am I asking questions I already know the answers to). So after hearing it was getting really great reviews and got A+ cinema score, I had little gang of guilt for not supporting the movie , so finally made it to the theatre last Sunday afternoon for matinée with my dad and stepmom (side note - there were 4 other people in the theater with us , 2 pairs of white women, and one pair left about ½ way into the movie ,the other ¾ way into the movie. That to me was, uhhhh…. Interesting…….

Anyway  mini rant aside, to my initial point about why I should watch trailers more – I was so unprepared for what this movie is – a war movie about the slave trade. War movies are violent, and slavery depictions are traumatic, so I wasn’t emotionally prepared for what I saw. This movie is violet, and emotional and if you’re not in the headspace for that then protect your peace.

All that aside, I was blown away by Viola Davis’ performance. I know, newsflash , Viola Davis is an incredible actress ,but I’ve never seen her in a physical role like this and my god was she commanding. She’s an absolute badass in this and I totally bought that she was the baddest bitch of them all and she could rip her enemies heads off is she needed to. But beyond the pysicallity, it was the emotion she brought to this character that really got me. There is no ugly snot cry moment like in Doubt, but there is one scene near the end of the film that left me in tears – her ability to get you to feel the emotions her characters are experiencing is unmatched.

I know there is a lot of controversy about the plot not being historically accurate, but I’m glad this film was made and I’ve heard there is a great article in the NYtimes that digs into that, but honestly I don’t really feel like digging more into more historical takes on slavery.

Overall – if you’re in the headspace for it , want to see some bad ass women kicking ass, gorgeous costumes and great performances sprinkled with a little war and trauma, this is right up your alley. 7/10