#haz imagine

[blue-lights-to-dreams]

Golden Light // H.S.

synopsis: you go on a blind date with Harry at your best friend's insistence and enjoy it much more than you expected.

wc: 3.9k

a/n: i hope you guys enjoy this! i haven't written fic in a hot minute, so let me know what you think! this will likely have a part 2 where the exciting stuff happens, but writing even this much took me forever so i wanted to share before the Christmas mentions became irrelevant, lol!

The streets of New York City are beautiful this time of year. Christmas lights twinkle in nearly every retail storefront, some even including a dusting of ripped-up cotton balls and other snow-like materials. Just ignore the grey sludge coating the streets.

You were never one for holiday cheer, and today was no exception. Despite thinking the same of every single day, you’ve had what you would consider the longest day of your life. Your first meeting ran late by just a few minutes, but even this was enough to push your calendar so far off that you needed to reschedule your final call with the client you’d been waiting almost a month to meet with.

There was nothing more in this world you wanted to do than curl up in bed with a bottle of wine and a silk eye mask. But, here you were, trudging down the streets of New York City in your slightly uncomfortable heels, trying to dodge puddles, slush, and other mysterious substances on the sidewalk, on your way to a blind date. Emma had set you up with a friend of her boyfriend’s, and she’d made you promise you’d give him a chance.

Your last relationship had ended with a bang after you went to his apartment to surprise him after getting out of work early one afternoon, only to find him in bed with a blonde girl you never did learn the name of. 

You could easily find a man to wake up to the next morning, but after years of running your own business, it wasn’t as simple as walking into a bar to meet Mr. Right. You’d dated enough men with little ambition; you needed someone who had drive– had success.

All you knew about your date for the night was his name was Harry, he was a record executive, and, according to Emma, he was hot.

The pit in your stomach only grew as you approached Bella Napoli. It didn’t help you’d spent the last six blocks trying to lift your dress and nearly-floor-length coat high enough to keep it out of the puddles.

The little blue location dot on your maps app glided closer to the restaurant with each step you took, nearly there - mist ghosted over your nose with each exhale, doing nothing to keep it warm in the frigid weather of the city, and you couldn’t wait to get inside.

Finally, you spotted the marquee sign affixed to the small brick building half a block up, signaling the end of your journey. The glass-front double doors opened easily under your hasty pull, eager to feel the heat of the brick building’s furnace.

“Good evening, ma’am,” the hostess greeted from behind her podium. She appeared to be in her early twenties, with long blonde hair and prominent cheekbones.

“Good evening, I have a reservation under (Y/L/N),” you brushed stray snowflakes off of your wool coat. Emma had ensured she would let Harry know the reservation would be under your name, and you hoped she hadn’t forgotten.

“Ah, yes, table for two? Right this way.” The young woman stepped from behind the podium and began heading toward the main dining area. You followed her as she snaked around the tables full of affluently dressed couples and businessmen in suits, reaching a small archway leading into a more dimly-lit section of the restaurant. 

She led you to a booth in the corner with velvet seats and matching curtains, held open by small hooks on either side - out of sight from most of the other patrons in the section, who didn’t seem to be paying any mind to you anyway. A small candle sat between two menus, adjacent to a traditional silverware layout and an empty highball glass on either side of the booth.

You slid onto the bench facing the room’s entrance as the hostess filled each glass with ice water. She nodded as you thanked her and informed her a man by the name of Harry should be arriving soon to join you. Just in case Emma had forgotten.

The menu was short but obviously well-curated. The wine list was almost twice the length of the food menu - just how you liked it. You skimmed the offerings, deciding on a merlot of the second-highest price point. Your anxiety still made itself known in the way your stomach was twisting. You checked the time. It was 5:58 pm - still two minutes early. You hoped the wine would drown the butterflies (or maybe moths) in your stomach.

Your eyes returned to the restaurant’s food offerings but were again drawn upwards as another person sauntered into the secluded section of the restaurant. His pale grey, half-unbuttoned silk shirt settled just under the gold cross necklace grazing the indent between his pecs. A blazer of a much darker grey draped his shoulders, matching the straight-legged trousers just long enough to only allow the front of his patent-leather black loafers to peek out from under them. 

The air suddenly felt heavy, like you couldn’t get a breath in. Who is the lucky lady he’s here with tonight? Your eyes darted around the section, trying to find his date, but coming up empty. 

Shit, is this Harry?

Your fears are confirmed as you realize the hostess had entered the room a bit ahead of him and was leading him to your booth. The poor girl looked entirely flustered.

“Here you are, sir. Your waitress will be over shortly to grab your drink orders,” she squeaked, turning on her heels and scurrying away as quickly as possible.

You smiled at him as you shuffled out of the booth and rose to your feet, trying to seem much more confident than you were. You reached about the height of his shoulder in your heels.

“You must be (Y/N),” he spoke with a slight smile, glancing at your attire before returning his eyes to meet yours.

“That would be me. And you must be Harry.” You smiled back at him, subconsciously smoothing out the part of the dress resting on your hips.

Harry took a step toward you with arms extended, pulling you into an easy hug, His arms wrapped tightly around your shoulders and yours around his waist. He smelled like an intoxicating mix of vanilla, patchouli, and musk. Expensive. Even just brushing your fingers across his suit jacket as he pulled away, the feel of the fibers suggested it had also not been cheap.

“You look stunning. I love the color of your dress,” he complimented, pulling back slightly with his hand hovering over your waist. “It looks great on you.”

“Thank you, it was actually a gift from my mother.” Compliment-taking was not your forte.

“Well, she has great taste. Shall we?” He motioned toward the set table, waiting for you to take your seat before sliding into the bench on the opposite side. “Have you been here before?”

“I haven’t, but I’ve heard great things. Have you?” His ring-clad fingers picked up the beverage menu in front of him as you spoke.

“I have, it’s one of my favorites.” That must have been why he suggested it.

“Is the Merlot any good? That’s what I was thinking of ordering, but I’m open to suggestions.” You played with the seam of your dress under the table absentmindedly.

“Now that, I haven’t had. I’m more of a white wine guy myself. I’m a fan of the Riesling.”

“Really? My first guess would have been whiskey, honestly.” There exists a pattern in these kinds of men - they always drank some very expensive whiskey they needed to tell you all about, as if it didn’t taste like smoke-flavored lighter fluid.

“I tend to prefer a sweeter taste,” his eyebrows twitched as he raised the glass of water to his lips. You nodded before the two of you fell into a comfortable silence, taking time to browse the food menu.

It wasn’t very extensive, with a few choices to pick from each protein category. You settled on a grilled chicken tagliatelle with a cream sauce, hoping it would pair well with the wine.

“Hi, my name is Danielle and I’ll be taking care of you this evening,” a voice burst your bubble of concentration, “have we decided on what we’d like to drink?”

You recited your wine order first, with Harry following shortly after. The waitress jotted down your selections in her notepad before exiting the room with a promise to be back to take your food orders shortly.

“So, Emma said you work in marketing?” he spoke slowly. His accent was thick, only further drawing you into the conversation.

“PR, actually,” you replied, “I have my own firm, with a few employees. I love it.”

“That’s amazing,” he sounded sincere. “How long have you been in PR?”

“Almost a decade, but I’ve had the firm for a little over 3 years. At first, it was just myself operating out of my apartment, but we’ve been able to build up some clientele and move to an actual office space. Emma said you work for Atlas Sound, right?” you shifted the conversation away from yourself, curious about what exactly came with being a record executive.

“That’s right. I’m mostly in charge of production but I help out with some of the publishing aspects as well.”

“Ah, so no talent scouting? I was hoping this could be my big break…” you mused, narrowing your eyes at him. Harry chuckled, flashing the smile you’d found yourself dead set on seeing more of. 

“No, no, unfortunately, that’s not me, but I may know some people who could help. Let me guess, rap?”

You almost choked on the water you’d just taken a sip of, but managed to swallow it before the laugh burst from your throat. It caught you off guard - Harry honestly didn’t look like he would even know what rap is. A silly notion, given his career, but true anyway.

“You have a beautiful laugh,” Harry stated sincerely, and your heart just about stopped. 

Before you got the chance to respond, a full wine glass was placed in front of each of you. You hadn’t even noticed the waitress had come back. “Here are those drinks. Did we decide on what we’d like to eat? I can make some suggestions if you’re not sure what to get…”

It appeared as if she’d forgotten you were even in the room with the way she was staring directly at Harry. You couldn’t blame the girl - you’d been staring too - but she could definitely tell the two of you were on a date, so she could have at least been a little more subtle.

Harry smiled politely (and briefly) at her before turning his attention back to you to confirm you were ready to order. You both relayed your choices to the waitress, and you appreciated that Harry did not seem like he was interested in entertaining her advances.

“Anyways, where were we…” he smiled again, and your heart lurched.

Conversation flowed smoothly between the two of you, aided by the wine in your glasses. You found yourself getting less and less nervous about him not being the right fit, but more and more nervous you were somehow making a fool of yourself. 

The story of how one of your interns accidentally jammed the copier so badly you had to buy a completely new unit made Harry laugh loudly. It was one of many stories you had from your job that were definitely funnier in retrospect than they were as they happened. You were aware you’d talked a lot so far, but you couldn’t help it. The way Harry spoke was attractive, but the way he listened was even better. He seemed genuinely interested in the stories you told, maintaining eye contact, nodding in the right spots, and asking thoughtful follow-up questions. It had been a while since you’d had a date genuinely listen to you, and it was refreshing. 

He asked more about your job, and you found yourself telling him how as much as you like being “in charge” and able to have control over your firm, sometimes it was incredibly stressful, especially in emergencies. He could see the stress that followed you home every day seep back into your expression, despite you trying your best not to let it show.

His ring-clad hand slid across the table, fingers gently entwining with yours and giving them a quick squeeze.

“You know, I think you’re brave for taking that risk. You should be proud of what you’ve built.” The eye contact he made with you as he spoke was intense, with sincerity behind his words. His hand was warm, contrasting the cool feeling of the metal rings, and you subconsciously squeezed it back in an attempt to keep it where it was. Luckily, your hands stayed intertwined for another couple of minutes as you expressed your appreciation for his kindness and shifted the conversation back to his job until your food was in front of you.

The meals were delicious, just as Harry had promised. He’d ordered a mushroom risotto that looked delicious, and your pasta tasted perfect with the wine you’d chosen. Good job, self.

Soon, you found your plate nearly empty and your body warm from the alcohol. Your thoughts felt slightly fuzzy, and you caught yourself staring a little too long at the rings on Harry’s right hand, as well as the fingers adorning them. The muscles flexed as he moved his hands while speaking, and you couldn’t seem to tear your eyes away. You knew how his hand felt in yours, but how would it feel touching your cheek, against your back, gripping your - 

“Did you save room for dessert? The tiramisu is incredible.” Harry’s voice broke your train of thought, and you quickly averted your eyes back to his. What seemed like a slight smirk played on his face, but you couldn’t tell if it was because he’d noticed the staring, or if the alcohol was just affecting him as well. You prayed for the latter.

“That sounds great, but I can probably only take a few bites. Would you want to share a piece?” you suggested, much too full for an entire dessert to yourself.

“I’d love to.” Harry absentmindedly tapped his fingers against the table in a rhythm you couldn’t place, not helping your attempts not to stare. “So, tell me more about that yoga class?”

The conversation flowed again, with Harry ordering dessert when the waitress stopped by. Of course, you were just as interested in his words as he was in yours, hanging on his every accented sentence. He was a captivating storyteller and his facial expressions were no different - you loved how his eyes lit up at the good parts and narrowed at the bad in the story. The slight scruff on his face complimented the way his mouth moved as it formed words, drawing you closer. How would they feel against your own lips, you wondered? 

You could hear the words he was saying, but you weren’t fully listening as he continued telling you about the time he got a little too drunk at a friend’s birthday party and ended up volunteering to give a speech he had in no way prepared for. It was a great story, very funny, but your mind was otherwise preoccupied. Wine always made you… flirty.

Soon, the tiramisu was in front of you. This, too, looked delicious - Harry was right again.

“Would you like the first bite?” He offered, picking up one of the small forks laid out on the plate and scooping a bite of the dessert onto it.

“Well, ladies first I suppose,” you joked. You parted your mouth slightly as you leaned forward, waiting for him to place the fork on your tongue. What you weren’t expecting was for his other hand to reach out and lightly grasp your jaw, thumb on your chin to hold your mouth farther open. A choked gasp escaped your lips at the same time the sweet cake hit your tongue, but you could barely taste it, too distracted by the skin contact. Again, his eyes didn’t leave yours as he allowed your mouth to close and pulled his hand away from your face.

“Well? How is it?” he asked, with a definite smirk this time. 

You tried to compose yourself before answering, swallowing the dessert and the lump that had formed in your throat. “It’s good… really good.” Your voice came out breathier than you intended, and you blinked heavily a couple of times, trying to kickstart the part of your brain that could think of anything except what you’d like to do with the gorgeous man sitting in front of you.

Harry took his own bite next, letting his eyes flutter shut as his mouth closed around the fork. His long eyelashes rested atop his strong cheekbones, the same ones you almost had to physically stop yourself from reaching over to brush your fingertips over. His lips were a stunning, dark shade of red, still slightly wet from the wine he’d been enjoying.

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed the bite, slightly brushing against the collar of his shirt. Seafoam green eyes made contact with yours as he opened them again, and a small smile graced his face as he realized you’d been watching him intently.

“You’re right, it is really good.” Your heart raced under the fervency of his gaze. He was staring into you like he wanted to read the thoughts echoing in your brain. “Would you like another bite?”

“Sure, but I can feed myself this one if you like,” you attempted to lighten the intense mood that had befallen your booth so you might actually be able to catch your breath,

“That won’t be necessary, I was quite enjoying myself,” Harry mused, refusing to break eye contact until you did. He scooped another bite onto the fork, reaching over to brush a stray strand of hair behind your ear before resuming his grip on your jaw and returning the fork to your lips. He felt your jaw flex as you chewed and swallowed the bite, but didn’t take his hand off of your face. Instead, he brought his thumb back to your lips and brushed below them gently, careful not to smudge your lipstick. 

He brought his thumb back to his mouth and slowly closed his lips around the pad of it, a half-smile tugging at his lips at your bewildered expression. “Sorry, you had a little something there. I figured I’d get it for you.”

You nodded, taking a deep breath instead of attempting to utter a response.

He took another bite himself before offering you another, which you obliged with little hesitation.

“You know, Harry, you need to be careful feeding me like this or I’ll get used to it.” Another feeble attempt to ease the tension and stop acting like a flustered teenager.

“I wouldn’t mind that,” he murmured, voice sincere and slow, laced with something that sent a shiver down your spine, “if it means I keep getting to see your cheeks flush.”

He’d noticed how your body was responding to him, whether or not you tried to hide it. Your face burned again, sinking further into the booth behind you in slight embarrassment.

“Well, it doesn’t help that I’m on a date with an attractive man who’s feeding me tiramisu. I think that’s every woman’s dream.”

“So it’s working?” His face glowed in the candlelight, a smirk on his face but a subtle vulnerability behind his eyes.

You knew what he was implying, but wanted to regain some of the power you’d lost by being so flustered. “Maybe.”

“That’s not good enough for me. I need a yes.” He needed confirmation that you were on the same page.

“And what exactly am I saying yes to?” A sip of wine ran down your throat as you awaited his response.

“To letting me walk you home after this,” Harry stated bluntly, scanning your face for your reaction. You couldn’t help the way your face flushed, but you held your composure, leaning back casually against the booth behind you as you pretended to mull it over. You already knew what you wanted.

“Alright, Harry,” you smirked, bringing the wine glass to your lips once more, “let’s see where the night takes us.”

- - - - - - - - - - 

“God, it’s freezing out here,” you groaned, dodging patches of ice. You were nearly home, your apartment building visible up the street.

Harry had grabbed your hand under the guise of keeping it warm a few minutes ago, something you were grateful for now as you gripped it tightly, trying to navigate the snow-covered ground in heels with little traction. He’d offered to call an Uber, but you wanted some more time with him without a driver listening in on your conversation.

As you approached the building, your imagination ran with thoughts of getting him upstairs, into your apartment, into your living room… 

Before you could get too far, you were at the front door. Your free hand patted over the pockets of your jacket to ensure that you had your keys and found them in your left pocket.

“I had a great time with you tonight, Y/N,” Harry turned to face you, not letting go of your hand. “I’d love to do this again, sometime, if you’d be interested.”

A slight flush now graced his face, glancing at the ground as he awaited your response.

“I had a lovely time. I’d love to see you again,” you confirmed quickly, not letting him worry for too long.

He was beaming now, allowing you to admire his prominent dimples. Your heart skipped a beat and you couldn’t help but smile right back at the sight.

“There’s that beautiful smile again,” he quipped. His free hand reached for your jaw, cradling it again as you both continued to grin at each other for a few moments. A silence fell upon you again, and Harry’s eyes searched yours for a second before flickering to your lips, which had slowly returned to a resting state. As he moved his gaze back up, your eyes gleamed with the reflections of Christmas lights and were swimming with the need for more contact with him. He inhaled slowly, nervously, before exhaling sharply. “Can I kiss you?”

You nodded quickly, gripping his collar to pull him closer before his mouth met yours. Electricity sparked between the two of you, his luscious lips colliding with yours over and over again, like he couldn’t get enough of you. The kiss started slow, but quickly became deeper, more desperate, as he gripped your waist tightly and pulled you close to him. Your hands searched for solace, moving from his collar to his cheeks before lightly running through the hair at the back of his neck.

He tore his lips away from yours but didn’t stray far, pressing his forehead against yours as you both tried to catch your breath. You could see both of your small pants in the air as they fogged due to the cold. A small smile played on each of your lips, and you just knew your lipstick was half-gone because you could definitely see some of it on Harry.

“You know,” you pulled away, straightening your stance confidently, “I have a bottle of wine upstairs if you’d like to help me drink it.”

Harry grinned. “I would love to.”

[helluvapoison]

I have an x reader request for Lucifer (you write him so well!!) with a mute!reader. Bonus if you make it gay, but gender neutral is good too. ty 💕

Lucifer Morningstar x Mute!Reader

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

• Lucifer loves to talk. Initially he thought a conversation with you couldn’t be worth having– he’s so fucking grateful to be proved wrong! You’re his favorite person to share things with

• Smiling when you’re enthused about something isn’t enough, you clap or take his hands and jump around with him. Sometimes he can’t help himself, scooping you up and taking you for a flight to share in your infectious joy

• When you don’t appreciate something he says but he’s so worked up he doesn’t notice your gestures to stop, you flick his hat. The first time you did it, he reeled. It’s an effective method

• If that doesn’t work, you ground him by holding his shoulders. Looking into your eyes tells him all he needs to know

• “Are you reading my mind right now?”

You shoot him a playful glare

• Thanks to you, Lucifer’s become fluent in body language. This helps immensely when you don’t have energy to communicate in your regular ways

• Physical touch can be a challenge when the King of Hell is as sensitive as he is. He appreciates when you tap the back his hand before taking it as you please

• Has paper or something to write with in every room on the off chance you misplaced your phone. He keeps a pen of your favorite color in his coat pocket

• On that note, Luci keeps everything you write on. It’s a bit ridiculous, there’s a file cabinet dedicated to past, present and future notes you write (even if they’re not for him)

• During Charlie’s karaoke night, Lucifer is your biggest fan! He’s cheering like you’re putting on the show of your life as you mouth the words to your favorite song

~

╰(*´︶`*)╯♡ you’re so sweet anon, i hope this suffices! thank you and come again

[sicklymadscientist]

Thought I’d branch out from my usual An/gel Du/st content and give Alas/tor a turn.

[otter-byte]

Talking to socially isolated leftists is so exhausting. "Every right winger is racist and low IQ" okay babygirl let's take you to a bar, buy a vodka soda, and have you talk to someone you don't know for a little while, okay? You're not a newborn puppy, no one is going to socialise you so you gotta do it yourself.

[hazmatmaid]

Thought I’d share this spider that lives in my room, in the corner right above my bed.

I like to think it’s protecting me from bugs I don’t like.

[peterparkers-bad-youtube-apology]

The Drawdown

Wipeout - Chapter 9

Pairing: Surfer!Tom Holland x Reader

A/N: Okay so I decided to cut this chapter in half so I could get it out a little faster and keep it from getting really long. Next chapter should hopefully also be coming shortly

Warnings: Fighting, angst

Summary: You have a terrible time at the beach

Taglist

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

❀  ゜.・゜-: ✧ :-　　-: ✧ :-゜・．゜❀

You twisted the small beads of your necklace while you read over the email on your phone. You’d been studying it religiously since it arrived, every word was now deeply ingrained in your memory. You wanted to say yes so badly, you’d even begun searching for apartments. It was such an amazing opportunity, if things were any different you would have said yes in a heartbeat. There was just one thing holding you back.

Tom Holland. Your sweet, funny, flirty little surfer boy. You just couldn’t imagine life without him. One week apart had left you totally miserable, how would you handle multiple months? An entire year? It seemed impossible.

If you could go back in time you would have listened to Grace and backed off way sooner. You thought you could fight your own feelings, and for a long time you had, but it became overwhelming. You weren’t sure exactly when things changed, but when he’d handed you that necklace you became totally overwhelmed with a warm fuzzy feeling. Everything had crashed over you and all at once you realized that the way you wanted Tom had moved far beyond friendship or lust. You didn’t know how to handle the sudden rush of emotions so you jumped to sex so you could feel as close to him as possible.

You debated talking to him about it, but you already knew your feelings wouldn’t be reciprocated, and you didn’t want them to ruin a friendship that you valued so deeply. Leaving was a perfect out though, the distance would make it easier to move on. Plus you’d be totally focused on your career and future, there’d be no time for you to worry about dating. You two could call and text, even FaceTime on occasion, but by the time you came back you’d be totally over him. You’d probably laugh about it together later in life.

“Boo,” a set of hands grabbed your shoulders. You were brought out of your trance so suddenly you jumped and let out a startled cry. Adrien laughed as he walked around to face you, “Sorry, sorry, I didn’t think I’d actually scare you.”

“That’s okay, I totally zoned out,” you set your phone in your lap and flashed him a smile, “Getting tired?”

You’d gone out to the beach with Grace, Harrison, and Adrien. Adrien and Grace had both tried to get you to come into the water already but you’d told them you weren’t feeling well. Really you were just waiting for Tom to get off work. He was set to come join you once he got off, you were hoping you could tell him you were planning on moving once you were out on the water. It was easier to have that sort of talk on the water.

“Nah, I’ve just got to leave in a few minutes, I’m meeting some friends for dinner,” he explained, “I don’t suppose you’re feeling any better yet?”

You shook your head, “No, not really.”

“That sucks, I’m sorry, I wish you could be out there with us,” he leaned back on his hands while he spoke, “I’m kind of glad we have a minute alone though, there’s something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about.”

You knit your brows, “You can always text me.”

“I know, I just think it’s better to do this stuff in person,” his cheeks took a bit of color as he continued, “I’m not the smoothest person in the world so forgive me if I stumble a bit. I want to start by saying I think you’re really pretty and really cool…”

Oh no, you could already tell where he was going.

“And I had a lot of fun hanging out and helping you with your internship stuff. So I was just wondering if you’d want to go on a date sometime?”

You were frozen in time, your mind rushing between a million thoughts. Adrien was cute, sure, but you’d never thought about him that way, and you had no clue he’d been thinking about you that way.

“Sorry, I’m just a little surprised,” you justified your silence and cleared your throat, “I didn’t realize you were into me that way…” you trailed off as you considered your options.

Adrien was cute, and a good match for you on paper. He was the opposite of Tom in many ways, more quiet and shy. He was sweet and smart and your careers fit nicely together. Plus a date would help you move on. If you could move on then you wouldn’t have to move away from him. You could stay in the sweet little town that you loved, with the sweet boy that you loved. Everything would be perfect, you and Tom could just be best friends and Adrien would be your boyfriend. A boyfriend gave you another reason to deny leaving too, to stay here and stay near him.

“Um, yeah, I think we should do that,” you nodded as you finally answered him, “Just something super casual though, you know what I mean?”

He nodded quickly, “Yeah, of course, we could just grab dinner or something, nothing crazy.”

This was good. Tom and Adrien were friends, all three of you could hang out together. Plus Tom and your other friends would definitely approve of Adrien, and that was important to you. Nothing had to change at all.

“Cool, did you have somewhere in mind?” you turned your attention to your hands, dipping your fingers into the warm sand nervously.

“Have you been to the Thai place that just opened? They have a cute little outside area right on the beach.”

“No, I haven’t, that sounds good though,” you agreed, “When did you want to go? I’m off on Friday.”

“Friday is perfect, around 6 if that works?”

You nodded again, “6 is good for me too. I can pick you up if you want?”

“That’s perfect, I can’t wait,” he flashed a big warm smile and leaned forward again, “I’ve got to get going, but I’m really excited.”

Your smile was smaller but you tried not to seem unsure, “Me too. Have fun at dinner.”

“I will,” he bounced to his feet quickly and waved to you, “I’ll see you Friday.”

“You too,” you waved as he left.

As he disappeared down the beach you drew your legs up to your chest and wrapped your arms around them. You set your head on your knees with a sigh and turned your eyes to Grace and Harrison. You watch Harrison cut into Grace’s wave and start teasing her while she yelled at him. They were having so much fun, it was annoying to be caught up in your own feelings instead of out there having fun with them.

You had no idea how long you’d been sitting there just watching when you heard footsteps behind you. You turned to find Tom, who must have just walked down the beach from work. He flashed you a smile, and then a pout when he noticed the look on your face.

“What’s wrong? Did you get hurt or something?” he hummed.

“No, I’m fine,” you stretched your legs out as he tossed his shirt and shoes off, “How was work?”

“Good, slow,” he glanced out at your friends, “You’re not gonna make me paddle out there alone are you?” he grabbed the pink board you liked and pushed it out towards you.

“No, I’ll go, just, um,” you took a deep breath, “Could you sit for a minute? I need to talk to you.”

His lips tugged to a small frown but he nodded and stuck the board back in the sand, “Of course, what’s on your mind?” he fell down into the sand beside you.

“Adrien asked me out,” you blurted it out because you didn’t know how to tell him.

You’d hoped he’d be excited, tell you right away that he hoped you said yes and he thought you’d be a great couple. It would be so much easier if he was excited.

His lips tugged upwards to a playful smirk, “Well I hope you let him down gentle Flower.”

Your cheeks tinted pink. He’d expected you to say no.

“Well actually I said yes,” you mumbled it out, like you’d done something wrong. Somehow it felt shameful, like something you needed to hide.

“Oh,” his little smirk dropped and he crossed his legs, “I didn’t realize you were into him.”

“I don’t really know if I am yet, that’s kind of the point of the date,” you tried to joke but Tom’s face contorted to a frown and his voice held an edge you weren’t used to hearing, “I don’t think you should be leading him on like that. If you’re not interested just tell him, all this is going to do is cause drama.”

“Why would it cause drama?” you frowned back at him, “It’s super casual, and he knows that. It’s just to see if there’s a spark or anything.”

“How could it not cause drama? He knows you and I have been hooking up, you think he’s just going to be cool with that?” he snapped at you.

You were taken back, you’d expected Tom to be shocked at most, not angry. He seemed totally pissed though, you hadn’t seen him that angry since the incident with Riley.

“He’s going to have to be cool with it Tom. If things got serious or anything I’d make it very clear with him that you and I are always going to be friends. Plus I doubt he would have asked me out if he wasn’t okay with it,” you pointed out, “I am perfectly capable of drawing those boundaries with any future partner I might have. You don’t need to worry about someone pushing you out of my life or getting jealous or something, I wouldn’t let that happen.”

You were being honest, you’d never let anyone push Tom out of your life, he meant too much. It was easy to promise that too when you couldn’t imagine being with anyone but him. Eventually you’d have to get over that, you’d have to move on, but he’d still always be an important part of your life.

“It’s not about that (y/n) I-” he cut himself off with a heavy sigh, shaking his head before he continued, “He’s not right for you.”

You knit your brows, “What do you mean? I thought you liked Adrien.”

“I do like Adrien,” he sighed again, “Adrien is a good guy, but you two barely know each other.”

“Again, that’s the point of the date.”

“Okay well I do know both of you, and I know you aren’t a good match.”

“What do you mean?” you asked again, you were starting to get annoyed now, “He’s sweet, and you know on paper we-”

“On paper doesn’t mean anything (y/n),” he sounded harsh and scolding, boardline parental, “You can make anyone seem good for anyone on paper.”

“Don’t talk to me like I’m a child Tom, I’m capable of deciding who I do and don’t want to go out with,” you snapped back at him.

“That’s not what I’m trying to do,” he groaned and ran his hands through his hair, “Look if you want my opinion I think it’s a bad idea. I won’t lie to make you feel better.”

“I don’t want you to lie Tom, I appreciate that you’re being honest here,” you dipped your fingers into the warm sand and grabbed a fistful of it, “I just thought we should talk about it because, you know…” you trailed off, letting the sand stream out between your fingers while you searched for the right words, “We’ve got out thing and our terms were-”

“Oh for fucks sake (y/n) don’t talk about it like it’s some sort of contract,” he snapped bitterly at you. Your eyes widened in shock and you fell silent. He was so venomous and angry, you’d never heard him speak like that. He glanced over at you and took a deep breath before he spoke again, “Sorry, I’m sorry, that came out really mean. I just don’t think this is a good idea okay? I mean he’s my roommate, he knows about our whole deal. It’s gonna get weird and he’ll inevitably end up jealous.”

“It’s just a super casual thing right now, if things got more serious I’d make it clear with him that he’d have to be okay with us staying friends.”

“If it’s just a super casual thing then why are we even talking about it? I mean what we talked about was doing our thing until you found someone you actually want to be with. So I don’t see why this matters unless you actually want to be with him.”

“Well I just don’t know that right now, I might want to be with him or something in the future. I wanted to talk to you about it because I don’t want things to get weird,” you pursed your lips. Really you wanted to bring up cooling things off between you two, you just thought this was a good way to bring that up without admitting your feelings, “Why are you getting mad at me? I’m just trying to communicate.”

“I’m not getting mad at you,” he clarified, “I’m not mad. I just think this is a bad idea, and I don’t think you two are a good match. I don’t get why you want to have this conversation either. If you don’t want to be with him, why do we need to talk about this? Obviously you’re not looking for my opinion.”

“Because I think it’s probably best for us to cool things off while I’m figuring this shit out,” you bit back at him. His mood was starting to sour yours too, “I’m trying to have this conversation with you so things don’t get weird or tense. I am not asking for your permission or approval. If you have an actual reason for thinking it’s a bad idea then I’d love to hear it, but if your reasoning is just that you don’t think we’re a good match, then I can decide that for myself. Obviously I’m going to talk to you about this because what else am I going to do? Just not tell you?”

His whole face flushed, “No I-” he paused, “I-If that’s what you think is best then obviously…” he fell silent, you waited for him to speak again, “I’m sorry, I don’t want to come off controlling or something because that’s not it at all. Obviously if you don’t want to stop sleeping together for any reason that’s your call, I’m not gonna question you on that. I just think that you going out with my roommate is a bad idea. I think it’ll make things weird no matter how hard we try to avoid it.”

“If it feels weird then I won’t go out with him again, but I’m trying to talk this out now so we’re on the same page. I don’t want to fight with you.”

“Yeah, me either,” he nodded, “I’m sorry for being pissy. I guess you’ll just go on the date or whatever and see how you feel or something…”

“Yeah…” your eyes left him in favor of the beach, “I’m sorry too, I wasn’t trying to start a fight.”

“I know.”

Silence fell between you two, neither of you knew what else to say. You were hoping for a much more positive talk.

“We could hit the water if you want,” you suggested in an attempt to lighten the mood, “I was sort of waiting for you to head out there.”

“Actually I think I’m gonna head home,” Tom rubbed the back of his neck, “I, uh, I don’t really feel like surfing right now. Work was really long, I’d like to just get to bed.”

“Right totally,” you nodded and watched him stand up.

He pulled his shirt back on and gave you an awkward wave as he left. You sighed and pulled your legs back up to your chest. Your head felt heavy on your knees and your eyes started burning. You tried to convince yourself it was just the salty air but you knew better.

next chapter

❀  ゜.・゜-: ✧ :-　　-: ✧ :-゜・．゜❀

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[mrs-hollandstan]

Could you plz write something about dad!harrison dealing with his toddler’s tantrums/terrible twos.

I changed this just a lil but it's still similar

There was nothing better than watching Haz be a dad. He was the best with your little girl. Even when she, herself, was a nightmare. Jane looked just like her daddy, and of course you'd joked about her having his attitude too, but it wasn't necessarily true. Like today. 

You had announced to Harrison that you were pregnant with his second child, and before you announced it to Jane, he wanted to be able to tell her if she was getting a little sister or a little brother. It turned out your new baby was a boy, much to Harrison's surprise considering the similarities in your first and second pregnancy. But regardless, he was excited to tell your baby girl. And the result was less than perfect. 

His announcement came from you, and was you telling her she was getting a baby brother from mommy's tummy soon, and almost the second you told her they were a boy, she'd burst in tears and she was sobbing and screaming, her face bright red. 

Harrison had grabbed her and cradled her in his arms, her head tucked into her shoulder. He pouts at you, 

"She's really upset." He murmurs. You smile, 

"She'll get over it." He scoffs, 

"She will, I won't." He tells you. You giggle, 

"I'm sure you won't." He sighs, sitting her on the couch, 

"Jane darling… you are going to have so much fun either your baby brother. You having a little sister won't change anything. You can be just as mean to a little boy." He reasons. She heaves as she continues to cry. You can tell by the look in Harrison's eyes that it's killing him. You move in, stroking her hair down, 

"Jane…" You wait until her eyes meet yours, "you like Mr. Shadow right?" You reference her stuffed bear from Harrison's mom. She nods, wiping her red rimmed eyes. You hum, 

"And you love having tea parties with him huh?" You pose. She nods again. You smile, 

"Well… the bigger the party, the more extravagant you have to get which means cake and ice cream at your tea parties." You tell her. Harrison looks between you, watching Jane light up at the mention of a few of her favorite things. You press a hand to your belly, 

"Your baby brother is gonna have his own friends like Mr. Shadow and I just know that's he's going to want to join yours and Mr. Shadow's tea parties and he'll help you get that cake and ice cream." You bribe. Harrison's heart lightens at the look in Jane's eyes, his hand reaching out to smooth her hair down. He leans in and kisses her cheek, 

"You're gonna be such a good big sister huh J?" He poses. She nods, glancing up at him, "to a baby brother huh?" He adds, testing the waters. She gives a sniffle, but she nods again, staring up at him, 

"Yeah." He smiles,

"That's my good girl. Think there's still some of Uncle Tom's red velvet cake left in the fridge, you wanna check?" He asks her. She nods, eyes lighting up again, throwing herself into his arms. He smiles, kissing her temple. You stand along with him, following him into the kitchen. After he fetches the leftover birthday cake Tom had insisted you take home for your little girl and a fork, he turns to you, 

"How bout…" He takes your hand, "We stop at two. If I have to pick up the pieces again after she has a breakdown over another baby brother, I'll have to commit myself to a psych ward." You giggle as he corners you against the counter. Reaching up to stroke his cheek, you lean in and kiss him, 

"You're the one insistent on a second baby. Wasn't my idea to get pregnant again." He smiles, leaning in to kiss you again, a little more soundly this time, humming, 

"I know but… maybe not a third." He murmurs. You nod,

"Keep it in your pants then Osterfield." You squeal as he smacks your bottom before he's fishing two more forks from the drawer, 

"Let's see how much baby boy likes cake before his big sister's tea parties." He murmurs, handing one to you and twirling one between his fingers. He watches you chew for a moment, wondering how he got so lucky with two of the most gorgeous girls on earth and a little boy on the way. 

[purificr]

hi. dear dictator by saint motel is a hazuki mikagi song. bye.

[black-quadrant]

I still rotate the indulgent idea of hazuki and joshua being exes. looking at their interactions through that lens hits different. could have been while they were alive (if they both were ever human ofc), or perhaps being neighboring composers put them in close contact to develop something, but either way hazuki taking this all as a chance to lure joshua out for his own private personal purposes (bc surely he's petty like joshua) is tasty

and I mean, if you wanted to play with double meaning

[rotisseries]

do you like. the depths. of totk. (i do!!!!!)

i LOVE the depths they're very cool. freaked me tf out at first but then I just spent an entire weekend going around and getting all the lightroots which DOES take away some of the cool factor from it because now it's not creepy but it's still so interesting to look around

[sicklymadscientist]

Too many arms, not enough time to decide which one to cover with.

[otter-byte]

My simple three step plan for riches:

1. Invent a kind of coffee machine that uses microwaves to heat water

2. Pay influencers to convince coffee snobs that this somehow makes the coffee taste better

3. At all costs prevent James Hoffman from getting his hands on this product and posting a 20 minute takedown of it

[hazmatmaid]

What if spade queen didn’t have alcohol

Are you asking me if she never had any to begin with? Or if she immediately quit after years of abusing it?

Because I ought to tell you that in the latter case, it leads to a fun little thing called "the DTs" and requires emergency care.

[hazyla]

Oh oh god I was thinking maybe I could have a fun meetcute at the roller rink today and make a new friend or some shit. Anyways I skated backwards into a cool looking girl that worked there

[silleye]

ok fuck having a self insert oc what if I just draw me and spy 😭😭😭😭

[dykesynthezoid]

How IWTV characters would respond if you asked them if they were a feminist:

Claudia: Says she likes killing human men and women equally and also that female vampires are definitely better than male vampires, in her experience. If Louis’s there she plays it up as much as possible just to annoy him.

Old Daniel: “Oh, nobody actually wants to hear a guy who looks like me declare themselves a proud feminist.” Is it a deflection? A little. Is he right? I mean yeah

Young Daniel: Says something like, “I don’t know, whenever I try to interview any kind of Women’s Lib chick she always ends up throwing stuff at me. I can’t imagine why.”

Louis: Spends like, 20 minutes talking about personally knowing Simone de Beauvoir. Mentions a “complicated” past relationship to women but doesn’t quite fully confront the pimp-shaped elephant in the room. Keeps vaguely brushing up against his mommy issues but refuses to actually voice them.

Armand: Says he also always admired de Beauvoir’s work but that there was something “deeply brittle” about her. Does not expand on this. Ends up talking about the sexual dimorphism of angler fish for a while before promptly asking, “Have you seen the film Showgirls?”

Lestat: Says he doesn’t understand all the fuss about lay-bellz such as theese, but of cœurse he recognizez wœmen in all their strength and beowuty… He himself has learned so much from wœmen, haz he not? Cherchez la femme, they say, non? Ah, the women in his life who have been the most influential? Well, his maman, of course…. Of course…. And then descends into a thousand yard stare that lasts nearly a full minute