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buyersguides · 1 month ago

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Single Trip Travel Insurance

Single Trip Travel Insurance: Your Ticket to a Worry-Free Adventure

Discover the ultimate guide to single trip travel insurance. Learn why it’s essential, what it covers, how to choose the best plan, and tips for stress-free travel. Your adventure awaits! Check UK Providers Traveling is one of life’s greatest joys, but let’s face it—life has a sneaky way of throwing curveballs when you least expect them. Enter single trip travel insurance, the unsung hero of your holiday plans. Whether you're jetting off to explore the Eiffel Tower or planning a beach escape in the Maldives, this trusty travel companion ensures that your dream trip doesn’t turn into a nightmare. In this guide, we’ll break down everything you need to know about single trip travel insurance. Don’t worry—it’s not as boring as it sounds. We’ll sprinkle in some humor, keep it light, and help you understand why this little insurance policy might just save your bacon when you’re halfway across the globe.

1. What is Single Trip Travel Insurance?

Picture this: You’ve packed your bags, boarded your plane, and finally arrived at your dream destination. But wait—your luggage has decided to take its own holiday to who-knows-where. Enter single trip travel insurance! Single trip travel insurance is exactly what it sounds like—insurance designed to cover you for one specific trip. It’s perfect for those who don’t travel frequently but want peace of mind when they do. This policy typically covers unexpected mishaps like lost baggage, medical emergencies, and even trip cancellations. Think of it as your travel safety net, catching you when life decides to play a practical joke. From missed flights to stolen passports, single trip travel insurance steps in when things go south.

2. Why Do You Need It?

Let’s be real: No one likes to think about things going wrong on holiday. But the truth is, accidents don’t take vacations. Imagine sipping a piña colada on a tropical beach, only to trip over a coconut (yes, it happens!) and sprain your ankle. Without travel insurance, that hospital bill in a foreign country could cost more than your entire trip. Not to mention the stress of navigating healthcare in an unfamiliar place. Single trip travel insurance provides financial protection, so you can focus on making memories instead of worrying about what-ifs. Plus, it’s not just about accidents—it covers everything from delayed flights to stolen belongings.

3. What Does It Cover?

Here’s where things get juicy. Single trip travel insurance usually includes a mix of the following: - Medical Emergencies: Covers medical expenses if you fall ill or get injured abroad. - Trip Cancellations: Refunds you if you have to cancel your trip for covered reasons. - Lost or Stolen Belongings: Reimburses you for lost luggage, passports, or personal items. - Flight Delays/Cancellations: Compensation for those frustrating airport delays. However, not all policies are created equal. Always read the fine print to understand exactly what’s covered and what’s not. You don’t want to assume you’re covered for scuba diving injuries when your policy excludes “adventurous activities.”

4. How to Choose the Right Policy

Choosing the right single trip travel insurance can feel like finding a needle in a haystack. But don’t worry—we’ve got a roadmap for you. First, think about your destination. Traveling to Europe? A basic policy might suffice. Heading to the US? You’ll want one with robust medical coverage (because let’s face it, healthcare there is no joke). Next, consider your activities. Planning a laid-back beach holiday? Great! But if you’re zip-lining through Costa Rican jungles, make sure your policy covers adventurous activities. Lastly, check the coverage limits. Ensure the policy provides ample coverage for medical emergencies, cancellations, and personal belongings. Trust us, you don’t want to be underinsured.

5. Top Mistakes to Avoid

Let’s save you some headaches by pointing out common mistakes travelers make with single trip travel insurance. - Skipping the Fine Print: Yes, it’s boring, but reading the terms and conditions can save you from surprises. - Underestimating Coverage Needs: Don’t skimp on coverage just to save a few quid. It’s not worth the risk. - Assuming All Activities Are Covered: Always double-check if your planned activities are included. Avoid these pitfalls, and you’ll be golden.

6. When Should You Buy It?

Timing is everything, especially when it comes to travel insurance. The best time to buy single trip travel insurance is as soon as you book your trip. Why? Because many policies offer trip cancellation coverage, which kicks in the moment you purchase the policy. If you wait until the last minute, you won’t be covered for any unexpected cancellations before your departure. Pro tip: Don’t wait until you’re at the airport to buy insurance. By then, it’s too late!

7. Single Trip vs. Annual Multi-Trip Insurance

Wondering if single trip travel insurance is the right fit for you? Let’s compare it to its cousin, annual multi-trip insurance. - Single Trip Insurance: Best for occasional travelers or one-off holidays. Covers one trip only. - Annual Multi-Trip Insurance: Ideal for frequent flyers. Covers multiple trips within a year. If you’re planning more than three trips in a year, annual insurance might save you money. But for one epic holiday, stick with single trip coverage.

8. Can You Customize Your Policy?

Absolutely! Many insurance providers offer add-ons to tailor your policy to your needs. - Adventure Sports Cover: For thrill-seekers diving, skiing, or skydiving. - Gadget Cover: Protects your phone, laptop, or camera. - Cancel for Any Reason: A flexible option for last-minute cancellations. Customizing your policy ensures you’re fully covered, no matter what your plans entail.

9. Travel Insurance Myths Debunked

Let’s bust some common myths about travel insurance: - “I Don’t Need Insurance for Domestic Travel.” Think again. Even domestic trips can face cancellations or lost luggage. - “It’s Too Expensive.” Single trip travel insurance is often surprisingly affordable. - “I’m Covered by My Credit Card.” While some credit cards offer limited coverage, it’s rarely comprehensive. Don’t let these myths stop you from protecting yourself.

10. Tips for Stress-Free Travels

Finally, let’s wrap up with some tips to make your holiday as smooth as possible: - Keep Copies of Your Policy: Have a digital and printed copy on hand. - Know Emergency Contact Numbers: Save your insurer’s helpline in your phone. - Pack Smart: Don’t carry valuables unless necessary. With these tips and your single trip travel insurance in hand, you’re all set for an unforgettable adventure. Conclusion: Don’t Leave Home Without It! Single trip travel insurance might not be as glamorous as planning your itinerary, but it’s an essential part of any holiday. Think of it as the sturdy umbrella you carry on a rainy day—it keeps you dry when the unexpected happens. So, before you zip up your suitcase and head to the airport, make sure you’ve got your insurance sorted. Trust us, it’s the best travel companion you’ll ever have. Safe travels! Editor's Choice

- For a list of our main buyers guides use the drop-down menu at the top of the page. Topics related to this article are: Travel Insurance Buyers Guide Buyers Guides Homepage - Read the full article

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georgeshutcheson · 2 years ago

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The Essentials of P11D(b)

New Post has been published on https://www.fastaccountant.co.uk/the-essentials-of-p11db/

The Essentials of P11D(b)

If you are an employer in the UK, you’re probably familiar with the myriad of responsibilities you have when it comes to your employees. One crucial aspect of these obligations is dealing with the notorious P11D(b) form. In this post, we’ll delve into the essentials of P11D(b), and why it’s something you can’t afford to overlook.

What is P11D(b)?

So, let’s kick things off with the basics – what on earth is P11D(b)? It is a document that UK employers need to submit to HM Revenue and Customs (HMRC) every year. It’s all about reporting the value of certain benefits and expenses provided to employees earning over £8,500 per annum. Now, don’t confuse it with the P11D form! The P11D form is where you detail the actual expenses and benefits, whereas the P11D(b) is where you total everything up and work out how much Class 1A National Insurance you owe.

Why is P11D(b) Essential for Employers?

Understanding the role of P11D(b) in payroll and taxation is critical for all employers. It’s not just about compliance; it’s also about making sure your employees’ tax codes are correct. But what happens if you don’t comply? Well, let’s just say it’s not pretty. HMRC isn’t known for being lenient, and you could face hefty fines if you miss the deadlines or make mistakes on the form.

The Filing Process

Navigating the P11D(b) filing process might seem daunting, but with some guidance, it becomes much more manageable. Here’s a basic step-by-step guide:

Collect all necessary information about employee benefits and expenses throughout the tax year.

Total up the benefits and expenses using the guidelines provided by HMRC.

Fill out the form with these totals.

Submit the form to HMRC before the deadline (usually 6th July following the end of the tax year).

Remember those key deadlines! You can’t afford to leave this task until the last minute.

Common Mistakes in Filing P11D(b) and How to Avoid Them

Even with the best intentions, it’s easy to slip up when filing your P11D(b). Some of the most common errors include incorrect calculations, missing information, and late submissions. To avoid these mishaps, it’s essential to be thorough and timely in your record keeping and calculations. Consider seeking advice from a payroll professional if you’re unsure – it’s better to be safe than sorry!

Digital Solutions for P11D(b) Management

In the digital age, we’re fortunate to have numerous payroll and HR software solutions at our disposal to simplify the management of compliance forms. These platforms can streamline the data collection, calculation, and submission processes, and help you ensure compliance. So, why not explore some of the top software solutions for P11D(b) management?

Key Takeaways for P11D(b) Management

There’s a lot to take in, but the essentials boil down to understanding what the P11D(b) is, why it’s crucial for UK employers, and how to navigate the filing process effectively. Embrace digital solutions to help streamline the process and avoid common mistakes.

Conclusion

We can’t stress enough how important it is for UK employers to stay compliant and up-to-date with tax regulations. It’s not just about avoiding penalties – it’s about ensuring a smooth, transparent, and fair payroll process for you and your employees.

Final words

If you’ve found this article useful, why not share it with others who might benefit? And don’t forget to subscribe for more information and tips about UK tax laws and employer obligations. Stay savvy, folks!

FAQs

What is the deadline for submitting the form? The deadline is usually 6th July following the end of the tax year.

What is the difference between P11D and P11D(b)? The P11D form details individual employee benefits and expenses, whereas the P11D(b) totals these up and calculates the Class 1A National Insurance due.

Can software help with P11D(b) management? Yes, numerous payroll and HR software solutions can streamline the process of data collection, calculation, and submission for this particular form.

Remember, running a business involves much more than just selling products or services. Staying compliant with tax regulations, including managing the PAYE process, is crucial to your business’s success. Good luck!

#Benefits in kind #Class 1A National Insurance #Employer's responsibilities #Expenses not reimbursed #How to complete a P11D(b) form #P11D(b)

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aquietjune · 1 year ago

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SOOO I just realized two scenes were MISSING from the chapter because of a ridiculous mishap in my export settings. I've updated the chapter and I put the beginning of those scenes in bold so that they can be easily found by scrolling, BUT now I'm also adding them here because I feel bad for them.

(I'm shocked and very sorry. Sorry! T__T)

This was the first scene!

In the early morning, Connie woke them up by knocking soundly on their door. “What is it?” Annie asked from the other side while fastening the belt of her dressing gown. “Sara at the telephone for you,” said Connie. “It sounds urgent.”

Annie rushed down the stairs. “Hello?” she said into the receiver, panting. Sara however, on the other end, sounded perfectly calm. “There’s a problem with the provisions for Serenia House,” she said. She told Annie an address. “I’m going there now. Can I meet you there?” So, it was happening. Fuck.

And this one came right after the talk with Verena Benesch, and it is a flashback:

“Your hand strikes too high, and you’re too slow.”

As soon as Annie gave her correction, Eren tried the move again on her.

It didn’t work: she blocked him once more.

“Maybe stop for a moment and think about what I told you?” Annie offered.

“You’d slam me to the ground if I did, Annie!”

“That was one time and it was during freeform, so granted, of course I finished you.”

“Sheesh, what a nitpicker!” Eren was back in front of her, his fists raised in position.

No matter how rudely she rebuked him, he’d always get back to fight, even teasing her. Always, until he would be too exhausted, and the session would end.

She appreciated that.

Looking back, she could see the precise moments in which she made mistakes in her own form. This was one of those moments: spending time with Eren to teach him hand-to-hand combat. Her biggest mistake, really—but how could she know it would come back to bite her? Back then, it was lazy entertainment for her; sometimes it would even strike her as something cruel—what would that suicidal blockhead do, even with her refined skills, in front of a 15-meter Titan?

But then, briefly, she even thought: maybe the guy would find some brain by the time he graduated from the Training Corps. He wasn’t brilliant, but he had a lot of resilience (too much, in fact: why didn’t she realize…?), and he learned quickly enough—not to stay still, not to think, but her moves, the ones she could teach him, yes, and although he did not shine, his motivation was enough to place him high in his class ranks. Maybe he would get it, he would place in the first ten and join the Military Police, live a normal life until Marley would get them all.

This, if she managed to succeed in her mission, that is, and with him in the Military Police beside her… better not. What a bother.

But no, he would not survive there anyway. He would have to be able to suck it up and deal with politics, and Eren was too impulsive for that. No matter how much he learned: he would still hit before he gathered enough information on his surroundings to do that successfully.

Couldn’t his friend Armin teach him something?

Couldn’t his dear Mikasa… just wake up, and present him with another option? Fall in love, make babies… live nicely for how long it was left to Paradis.

All done.

But no: Eren Jaeger could never have that. He could never back down. He could never lower his head for a willing beheading, for the force that motivated him, the one that told him to “kill all the Titans” was too strong to even make him reason, much less look around at the people next to him to listen to them. In his rage, he would rather destroy anything rather than make a deal.

He listened only to what he deemed valuable for his goal; he would only succumb to that.

For that, he would listen to Annie, and be slammed to the ground repeatedly by her.

He would kill all the Titans, and with his own hands. No matter how others would think of him as a madman. He would go against all preconceived notions and all societal conventions. He would get to the end of it, or die.

What about Annie, though? Why did she do it?

Every day she thought about her Dad back in Liberio, waiting for her return. She thought of his tears and of his pleading to her. Of his words.

You’re my daughter.

In all her conscious life, she was sure she’d never seen like that. In hindsight, she knew why that broke her. In all her life, she had been convinced to do the things he asked of her for food, or rest, or other mundane privileges, but never for the warmth of a hug. Never for affection.

She wanted that affection so much. So much.

Then why would she wait around, following the misguided orders of Reiner Braun, seeking to complete a mission that was already lost at the beginning of their journey, when they lost Marcel?

Why would she waste her time teaching Eren Jaeger her father’s martial arts?

She knew a simple, rational answer: because she had to silence those thoughts in her head, and her aching, somehow. Because they really had no way to act, at the moment. It was stupid. More stupid than Reiner Braun. So, she had to wait.

But then, she could not ignore the other thing, no matter how she tried to silence that as well, her whole body trembled with it, and in such a different way from the fleeting, uncertain, somewhat rather terrifying way it reacted to the vicinity of that other person she’d rather not think about too frequently about never be it those observant like Sasha or Krista or heavens save me fucking Ymir would notice. (Mina, she didn’t care: she was quiet and respectful.)

No. Getting back on track.

The point was, Eren Jaeger was impulsive, and never thought enough before striking, but trying and trying again, with her telling him to wait! Wait! every time, somehow, he got it. Even the hardest moves, he could learn.

She would then look in disdain at Reiner and Bertholdt who never grasped a sense of what she did when she fought them. Instead, Eren observed. He listened. And he learned.

And it was so satisfying. She could feel her lips turning upwards in contentedness.

So silly. So misguided.

But in that, feeling that, another fleeting thought would get her to ache enough to get back into the tracks.

Would Dad also feel like this, when I learned a new thing that he taught me?

She could not help but feel two contrasting feelings then: fuzziness, and deep discomfort.

For her father’s teachings were only means to violent ends, and so were hers.

And yet, even knowing this, why did she feel pride for them? Why did she feel that they could stand on their own?

Was there another way?

It was not as if she had known anything else other than violence in her life. She could not know.

Did her father know anything else?

Little Bird: Chapter 13 is out on AO3

#little bird #little bird: chapter 13 #exporting error #oh my there were missing scenes #help...#aruani #annie leonhart #eren jaeger #mr leonhart #annie leonhart fanfiction

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kyopmi · 3 years ago

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♡ — angel eyes

‣ kita shinsuke x gn!reader

‣ a series of unfortunate events for our mochi kita, meet-cute(?), fluffy

‣ 1,544 words

kita shinsuke is late.

yes, that's right — for probably the first time in his life, due to an accumulation of unfortunate mishaps, he finds himself scrambling in the morning, heart pounding, as he moves as fast as he can to load bags of rice in his truck.

how exactly did he get here?

his first mistake was staying up much later than usual on the previous night, persuaded by atsumu and osamu's goading and whining of c'mon, kita-san, just a few more minutes! at the inarizaki mini get-together in onigiri miya, where he'd consumed a little more alcohol than he'd like to admit. as a result, he had woken up a whole half hour later than usual, sleepy eyes shooting wide open when he made out the time and his body all but tumbled out of bed, legs still tangled with his blankets.

kita shinsuke runs on routines. he finds comfort and contentment in knowing what most of his day will look like — what he's doing, where he's going, when it's happening. to some, it may seem like a dreadful constant of day in, day out, going through the same motions with little to no deviation, but kita likes to see it as his little corner of bliss. an escape, if you will, from the ever-turbulent ups and downs of life. from an outsider's point of view, one would assume his disciplined practice is merely something he has built out of habit, which isn't wrong, per se, but what they don't know is that kita craves — needs his routines just as much. it's inevitable that there will always be unexpected occurences, whether they're good or bad, long or short. this way, he thinks, it's a lot easier to take it all in stride. to have something to fall back on whenever things get a little too overwhelming.

which is why the rapid drumming in his chest, which could be from the overexertion of a rushed morning or the anxiety but most likely due to both, feels so utterly foreign to kita. he takes note of the way his fingers involuntarily trembles as he finishes loading up the last bag of rice, though he doesn't know why. he's supposed to make a morning delivery to Onigiri Miya today, before returning to tend to his farm, and though he knows his delay is unlikely to upset osamu or have any negative repercussions, he can't help the unpleasant nerves churning in his stomach.

still, kita shinsuke is kita shinsuke, so he takes a deep breath, pulls it together and makes the drive he's committed to memory towards the onigiri shop. all along the way, he has the radio playing at a reasonable volume, the chattering from the radio dj's and the occasional music from the speakers serving as a soothing background noise as his eyes stay fixated on the road.

kita is convinced he’s regained his composure during the twenty-minute drive. he’s had the chance to slow down his heart rate, quell the morning fluster he’s been feeling, and mentally move his schedule around so that he can still finish all his tasks before sundown.

okay. he’s got this.

all that’s left to do right now is get out of his truck, apologize to osamu, and–

smack! thud! “ow!”

oh, gods. he couldn’t even get the first thing off his checklist done right.

the rice farmer wants to groan, sink into the vinyl of his seat, and hopefully wake up from a bad, bad dream. unfortunately, he’s sure of two things: one, that this isn’t a nightmare he can simply move on from, and two, that was a very real, very alive human person he just hit with the door of his truck.

it’s like all his previous efforts have gone to waste as kita hurries, more carefully this time, to exit his vehicle, his heartbeat spiking once more and a pool of anxiety, now mixed with guilt, resurfaces in the pit of his stomach. once he shuts the door, he’s met with the sight of your figure – sitting flat on your bottom (not by choice, of course), one of your hands rubbing the upper arm where he assumes had come into contact with his truck’s door. he’s quick to bend down and offer a hand to help you up, all the while spewing out an apology and a concerned, “are you okay?”

you don’t make any moves to take his hand, instead blinking up at him with furrowed brows. kita’s heart just about drops to his feet, fighting back a grimace. sure, he didn’t deliberately open his door into you and sent you plummeting to the ground, but he supposes you have some right to hold it against him. he holds his breath when you finally open your mouth to speak.

“are you an angel?”

kita is stunned into silence at your question, hand still frozen mid-air as he stares unblinkingly at you.

“... are ya concussed?”

as it happens, you are not concussed, but in your defense, you were just violently struck down out of nowhere as you were innocently walking to work, and as you’re mentally recovering, an objectively handsome man had suddenly appeared before you, leaning in with his strong, defined facial structure, forehead partly obscured by his bicolor hair and honey-golden eyes boring into yours with such sincerity, it makes your heart skips a beat. it doesn’t help that he’s wearing an off-white linen shirt, leaving the top unbuttoned and teasing a glimpse of his collarbone, and that the sun is positioned behind him, resulting in a glowing halo effect around the man.

so, yeah, you think your question is at least a little bit justified.

though as the initial shock and confusion fade away, and you begin to realize what exactly you had just asked him, you feel waves of warmth flooding your cheeks. you cough awkwardly and take his hand that’s outstretched towards you, using him as an anchor as you jumpily push yourself off the ground.

however, what you don’t expect is a force just as powerful pulling you upwards, causing you to yelp as you stumble to find your footing and you end up lurching forward instead – right into the arms of the man in front of you.

kita moves swiftly, reflexes instinctively urging his arms to support you by your sides. his heart thumps abnormally loud when you land with an oomph onto him, your eyes staring, wide-eyed, into his irises that mimic the same surprised expression.

there’s a pregnant pause as the two of you remain in the same position for a fleeting moment, standing very close together for a pair of strangers, his hands firmly holding onto your waist while your palms rest against his chest, almost acting like a barrier.

kita is the first to speak, trying his best to conceal the stammer in his words. “i-i’m sorry... again. are ya alri–”

“geez, kita-san. yer already try’na make a move on my newest employee right after assaulting them with yer truck?”

the sudden intrusion from osamu drags you back to your surroundings and instantly makes you separate from each other as you feel more blood rushing to your face and your mind spinning with questions.

does miya-san know this man? are they friends? does he think i’m coming into work late because i’m trying to seduce his ridiculously handsome friend?

“miya-san!” you squeak out, cringing inwardly at the crack in your voice. “i’m– it’s not what it–”

your boss waves off your floundering. “s’okay, i saw everything from the window. was pretty funny to watch,” he reassures with a lazy smirk, though it doesn’t seem to shake your embarrassment. “and i told ya to quit callin’ me that! ya better start calling me osamu or else i’ll have to start docking yer pay.”

“r-right,” you nod at him.

you have yet to find the courage to look back at “kita-san” again, fixing your gaze at osamu instead. meanwhile, kita silently observes your interaction with the grey-haired man, maintaining the collected look on his face though he can feel the tips of his ears burning up.

“alrighty, then,” osamu continues, “y/n, you finish prepping the rest of the ingredients in the kitchen. kita-san, i’ll help ya with the rice.”

kita nods in agreement, watching your back as you sheepishly scamper into the onigiri shop and disappear into the kitchen area, eyes lingering just long enough for osamu to notice.

“wow, kita-san,” he chuckles, grinning slyly at his former captain, “can’t believe i get to watch yer meet-cute moment, right in front of my eyes.”

kita dismisses his comment with a slight shake of his head. “it was an accident,” he states matter-of-factly, moving to the back of his truck with osamu hot on his heels.

osamu heaves a bag of rice into his arms and looks over to kita once again. “yeah? well, the booze from last night must’ve done quite the number on ya, huh?” he teases.

“yes,” kita admits reluctantly. “i overslept this morning, sorry fer comin’ late today.”

osamu playfully scoffs at his friend. “that’s not what i meant,” he laughs, lightly elbowing kita in the side. “what i’m sayin’ is – how come yer face is still as red as last night?”

♡ taglist — @sachan1956 @gojoanti @llyslikeliz @sunkeiji @rinsramenshop @justmyownreality @a-cosmicdawn @emmyrosee @tyler-dimples-jones @crystal-lilac @loutij @kissmorax @awkwardaardvarkforever @ohtokki @twismare @kitsunekanojo @toorude-er @mattsunkawa @hyeque

#hello i accidentally rambled about kita a little bit‚ did u notice #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu drabbles #hq x reader #haikyuu scenarios #kita shinsuke #kita x reader #kita shinsuke x reader #kita shinsuke fluff #&works

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nightmarish-fae · 2 years ago

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professor blake (alex blake/academic!reader)

a/n: I originally wrote this little one shot as a request for @prentiss-theorem. I usually don’t feel very comfortable with sharing what I write, but I have been badgered (lovingly), so here we go. I am not a native English speaker, all mistakes are mine.

pairing: alex blake x reader

genre: silly fluff

warnings: swearing

word count: 767 (one-shot)

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It was fun, sneaking around with Alex. Not that you were really sneaking around - neither of you needed or wanted to keep your relationship a secret. All the important people in your life knew. But neither of you quite felt the need to tell your colleagues and students at Georgetown when you started seeing each other and eventually, it just slipped your minds. And then, it became sort of a game, seeing just what you could get away with and laughing at how confused people could get trying to put two and two together over shared dinners and glasses of wine.

You couldn’t be happier. When you took the position of Latin professor at Georgetown, you didn’t quite expect the impact the position would have on your life. On your first day, you managed to bump into a fellow professor and spill your coffee on both of you, which, in turn, made you burst into tears. It might not have been an entirely appropriate reaction, but the stress and terrible previous work experience made it too much for you to handle.

Even so, it turned out to be one of the best things to ever happen to you. The woman you managed to get your coffee all over, a linguistics professor Alex Blake, blew your breath right away. She was gorgeous. And smart, funny and ridiculously kind. You found out very quickly, because she insisted that the coffee related mishap was her fault, soothed your tears almost immediately and persuaded you to let her buy you another coffee. You knew, on that first day, right after you parted ways, that it was either this woman or no one else.

And you were right. You continued to bump into each other, which in turn evolved into planned meetings when you found out just how much you had in common.

It was easy, falling in love with her. It was easier than breathing. And, by some strange sort of miracle, she fell for you too.

That’s how you ended up cuddling her in your shared bed, in your shared apartment, with a ring on your finger and a cat curled on the bottom of the bed. Sometimes, you felt like crying from how happy you were. It wasn’t all easy. Her FBI job led to late night, dangerous situations and countless arguments. But both of you pushed through, determined to do better for the other one.

“What is going on in that head, huh?”

Alex snapped you out of your train of thoughts, handing you your coffee mug along with a kiss to your forehead. It was your first day back to work after returning from your honeymoon and while neither of you were quite ready to burst the bubble, there was also fun to be had.

“Nothing, just thinking how lucky I am to call you my wife.”

That earned you the sweetest possible kiss, carefully pressed to your lips while those clever hands cupped your cheeks.

“Sweet talker. See you for lunch?”

You simply hummed in response, heading for your lecture with the goofiest smile possible plastered on your face. It was impossible to get rid of. And what made the whole thing even better was what was about to follow. You and Alex made a bet. She insisted it was impossible no one knew about the two of you. You in turn, insisted that the name change was going to come as a shock. The stakes were high, but you knew you had this. Alex overestimated the intelligence of university students.

It was exactly as you presumed. As soon as you walked down the steps, facing your class, a wave of confusion rose.

“I thought Professor Blake was meant to be teaching this class.”

You only leaned back and looked at your nails.

“Well, yes. That’s me.”

Trying not to laugh was almost an herculean effort. Their poor little confused faces as they tried to put two and two together filled you with joy. Eventually, they succeeded and you thought you heard what sounded suspiciously like ‘lucky bitch’ coming from one of the girls closer to you.

“I am indeed lucky, thank you very much. Not sure about the bitch though. Now, because you all managed to score me a weekend getaway with my wife, there will be no pop quiz next week. For the basics…”

As you droned on about the syllabus, your eyes flicked towards the door. It was open and Alex was standing there, leaning against the frame with a hand over her mouth, trying to muffle her laughter.

Life was good.

#Criminal Minds #fluff #criminal minds evolution #Alex Blake #dr alex blake #ssa alex blake #alex blake x reader #alex blake x yn

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fleet-admiral-hiba · 3 years ago

Note

I uh I uh don’t know if you’re still doing it but if you are then hey lol your stories are rlly well written and I enjoy them :)

Uh can I get a size S (Sanji or Crocodile), of the Espresso (yandere), or maybe Macchiato if you are willing. Please do what makes you the most comfy! Thank you for your time aaaa!! (Side note I’m very short 😭).

THE EMERALD JEWEL

There are two things Crocodile hates more than water and Doflamingo.

One is traitors, they are simply tasteless. They can't face people up front. Cowards.

The other one is... Whoever dared to kidnap his jewel. They have chosen a fate worse than death itself.

The only one who managed to capture his heart, his trust and everything. The only one who WILLINGLY CHOSE HIM. AND SOME IDIOT DECIDED TO TAKE THEM AWAY.

DISGRACEFUL. He will gut even the guards he placed on in front of the room, because they made possible this mishap.

......

You woke up rather confused as to why you were now in a cave, outside the town you were staying in for the week. A moment before you were in your cozy room, reading, the next you were bound to a chair.

And you realized only later, that there was blood flowing from your forehead. Great. And it hurt.

Two people were standing guard to your cell, but the only thing you could think about was the absolute carnage it was going to happen very soon.

Let's say that your husband... Didn't like to share. He is..how can you put it? Ah yes, possessive.

Well, you tested the strength of the rope that was binding your wrists. It was loose enough to will away, but you doubted you would make it very far.

While you contemplated what to do, you heard someone screaming. And then you felt the familiar presence of one pissed husband.

You were going to call him when someone placed a hand on your mouth. Disgusting. You jerked your head away, but a knife was placed under your throat. A cut would be fatal.

It seemed that they were panicking, and they just made their biggest mistake ever.

You see, Crocodile loathed seeing you hurt. That is, everything that wasn't his print on you was something shameful for anyone to even think of doing. And here you were, with a fool who had your head closed in a deadly headlock.

He entered, graceful even in his rage. It may not have seemed so, but behind those steely eyes you could feel it.

A whoosh, and a thump. The body that was once behind you had been dried up. And you were finally free to move.

Except that he hoisted you up, and took you home. Not once he loosened his grip on you. And he didn't want anyone to come so much as near you for the rest of the week.

You tried to comfort him, and he accepted that. But the stinging feeling of having almost lost you was bitter.

To make amend for that, you found yourself suddenly sommerged in gifts of every kind.

He was apologizing, and you knew that even if you forgave him, this incident would haunt his dreams for a very long time.

#one piece #one piece fanfiction #one piece headcanons #one piece imagine #one piece masterlist #one piece scenario

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prankmasterz · 2 years ago

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{ spkyscry }

Vera is agonizingly quiet. She’s so still, in fact, that one might mistake her to have been replaced with one of the many statues she’s so fond of making. Polly is, arguably, her first proper friend. One of the few people she’d actually say is a real friend.

It’s been some time since it happened, of course, but.. it was still agonizingly quieter than it used to be all the time.

“Polly,” she begins, voice level as she can make it. “You being sorry was never in question. I can’t pretend to understand, of course, but I’m well-aware something was amiss. You don’t have to apologize. I just… I needed time to decompress.”

That was the word for it, right. Decompress and.. deal with things. The spot where Hissy had once been is gone, of course, and it’s rather evident that, unlike hair or the heads of a Hydra, Vera’s snakes don’t appear to grow back.

Finally, as if she had forgotten to, Vera manages a slight quirk of lips into a smile.

“Really, you don’t have to worry about it. We’re friends. Just because a mishap happened doesn’t change that.”

They were friends, yes, and now that she’s had time to process such, her scorn has dulled some. It would be a lie to say she wasn’t angry or distraught in some regard, so she doesn’t bring it up. She’s still happy to see Polly, after all. None of that has changed in the slightest.

“Right, right, I know, it’s just—”

The words come out more disjointed than Polly wants, slurred somewhere within her, deeper than where mouth or lungs are supposed to be, tucked away in a corner that she can’t fully shine out. Like the tremble in her hands, flesh falling apart from and rotting from bone and then picking itself back up and reattaching itself to the tendons and then falling apart back again, has infected the whole of her being, the physical appearance of herself less of a measure of how well she was doing and moreso the whole of what she was.

It’s never something she gets used to. Pretty sure it’s impossible, anyways. Something about the nature of the way she was, of what she had become, that she would always be playing catchup, forgetting that she wasn’t she thought herself to be.

The clown outfit is at least a reassurance. It’s funny, how it becomes one, that she can tuck something physical around herself, that she can touch herself with makeup and it’ll hold. It’s nice. It’s something she took for granted, before. It’s nice to touch her body and to have it respond to her, to have something to feel, to have fabric that she can hold.

Her arms tuck tight around her chest, an odd half-hug that’s made slightly more odd by how Polly is floating sideways, well above the ground. One hand lifts up, waving here and there as if trying to gesture out an idea that she couldn’t get out with her mouth, almost a shrugging gesture if it weren’t so desperate, bleeding at the edges with a shame and a want and all the things she’s been stewing in since she’s been afraid to talk to Vera again. That’s funny too. Never thought she would be afraid of Vera, even though she knows she’s scary, but... She doesn’t think that’s true, not with this. It’s more accurate to say the big bad wolf she’s scared of is herself. Has been for a while.

“It’s like... You know. You know how it gets, when any of us lose control. It’s... It’s not... Yeah. I mean. You know what it’s like, right? To lose control. You know how it feels. When someone gets hurt because... Well, because.”

She paused again, silence hanging heavy in the air beside her. Slowly, Polly rotated around, her legs drifting up and towards the ceiling, her head falling back, as if she were sitting upside down on a couch instead of the air itself.

“ ...... Can I at least, like, honk my nose, and you’ll laugh and say I look like as much of an idiot as I’ve been, lately?”

#With a Z! || IC #spkyscry #(( polly vc: yes actually i would like that #(( she just wants to hear her laugh again alas.......

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inklyqueen · 3 years ago

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"Out of This World" Headcanons because I wish it was a real musical now

Fair warning this is kinda me rambling about Raela's role in this. Also long post. Sorry. Also not sorry.

So I dragged my bestie to see Sing 2 and the nostalgia of high school theatre shows hit hard cause literally did a high school version of Chicago and that was a H A Y D A Y

So yeah I have borderline experience in this stuff

One of the biggest things the theatre director wanted the cast to understand was the motivation behind the character's actions, including background roles. So watching them work on Out of This World was so satisfying to see it develop into something amazing.

That was, until I got to the final product of the musical.

Now yes I know there was an overall plot happening at the same time but I just

I felt like a lot to it was missing as far as the musical

I think I got a little too invested in the musical itself but h e r e we go

Rosita's role was perfect as it was. Her motivation was clear. Her character plot and development was clear. Same for Gunther. So I won't touch those two or their roles.

And Porsha, I really don't see an issue there, I was ravving for her development and change in character in her performance, so I'm not gonna touch her either.

I wanna talk about Act 2 first. Meena and uh... "Darrius."

My thing with their duet really isn't the act itself.

It's the moments immediately after it.

You do not, I repeat, DO NOT START TALKING TO THE AUDIENCE OUT OF CHARACTER IN THE MIDDLE OF A FUCKING TRANSITION I MEAN HOLY C R A P—

I was SCREAMING INTERNALLY for her to GET. OFF. STAGE.

If it's not written in the stage directions, and there's no issue or mishap you're trying to cover up, and it has happened to me before too, you DONT. BREAK. CHARACTER.

I did a show in high school called Be My Ghost. I was one of the ghosts haunting the hotel. The audience saw me whenever I walked on stage. The "living characters" had to act as if I wasn't there at all.

Before the lights went up to intermission, all four of us ghosts had a little part to run across the stage, dance around, be a ghost, etc.

I was supposed to be the one that was a bit "insane," as the director said, and when I was going across the stage, I tripped, and my prop fell and broke on the floor.

The audience thought it was meant to be comedic, and started laughing.

Of course, me being friggin embarrassed at first, had to act fast, because I was just standing there with a broken porcelain doll on the floor.

So I started laughing. Maniacally. So much so I could see the audience was freaked out by my laughter as the curtains were falling in front of me.

That is an example of breaking the fourth wall JUSTIFIABLY. I stayed IN CHARACTER, and the tech crew backed me up to roll with the cover up. The audience won't know it was a mistake if you don't treat it like a mistake

Meena went and started talking to Alfonso out of character and setting up a date after the show.

The amount of R A G I N G I was doing in that theatre was like

But ANYWAY—

The other thing I wanna bring up is Act 1 with Johnny and Klaus Ryan.

For some reason I felt like a lot was missing there. Like, example:

Why are they at war tho

Who started it

Wtf was the point of a war in the first place

Why was "Sky Full of Stars" the choice when it's a love song and there's no evidence of even the slightest romantic stuff happening like wh—

S O I'm here to fill in the gaps with headcanons and OCs because I fucking can 😀👍🏻

The Planet of War is another name for it; it's actually called Calion

Ryan's character is named Karn

Johnny's is named Komenar

They're also in a civil war (which duh bc of the costume colors and such)

Johnny and Ryan's characters command their respective sides

Karn's faction is referred to as the Uprisal, or Uprisers, because they're attempting to overthrow the current ruler of Calion and put Karn in power

Komenar's faction is referred to as the Resistance, and are loyal to the standing ruler, which is also Komenar

Well Karn took someone captive when he last attempted an invasion of the fortress that is barely a fortress at this point

That person is the future First Lady (I lack a better name ok), Ailee. (Aye-Lee)

I say Future because Komenar was preparing to propose to her when the war was finally over

Ailee was constantly trying to get them to negotiate, sign a peace treaty, etc, but Karn wouldn't have it

Shit happened obviously

So the scene shown in the movie is that final showdown, Karn is coming for Komenar, Komenar is preparing to fight to the death for his planet and his lady

So hence the song with "I'm gonna give you my heart" and "I don't care, go on and tear me apart; I don't care if you do; Because in a sky full of stars; ... I think I saw you;"

Obviously, Klaus crashes the party as Karn, and changes the scene

Komenar was supposed to defeat Karn by the end of the song (right before Nooshy started banging on the bucket), so that kinda just makes it a bit more epic ngl

At least to me idk

It's after this that Rosita comes forward asking about the lost space traveler, and comes up empty, so she leaves for the next planet

I've shown y'all Raela's performance dress once before here:

Granted, Rae wasn't intended to have a casted role. She only designed costumes, sets and props, and even made some of the costumes used herself. Including the dress above that was made for that role as the "First Lady." Or princess. Er- Someone help me with this—

It was intended for a different actress, who I don't have a name for yet, that was set for the role. When Jimmy Crystal cancelled the show, and the cast was secretly called in for the performance, she refused to perform out of fear of getting her contract with Crystal Entertainment voided.

So, Moon had to improvise, and Rae agreed to fill the spot.

When she designed the dress, it was meant to represent both sides as symbolism to show that the character just wanted peace, the orange cracks from Johnny's costume, and the red from Ryan's, as well as accents of gold and silver individually from both.

It was also intended for the skirt to touch the ground, since the actress is significantly shorter than Rae, and a bit smaller in the chest. She had to makeshift an extension in the top to be able to wear it since there wasn't enough time to make a whole new dress. She does get to remake it for herself though for the performance at the Majestic, and makes some small changes just for fun. I gotta draw her in it tho give me a hot minute

As for singing for that role, I'm not 100% on that. I have a Choral VC for Raela now, but it wouldn't be a lot as to not pull from Johnny standing up to Klaus.

And now, other headcanons for the musical itself:

THEY. KEEP. RY. AN. HO. LY. CRAP.

Darrius sticks around but somehow he's not very popular with Meet n Greets, etc

Darrius's character is named Darrio because he won't go by anything else and Buster was losing his patience

The Goddess is named Mellodi

Because duh

Porsha's "Nasty Alien Monster" is named Purra

"Planet of Joy" is Jubila

"Planet of Love" is Ardor

The "Lost Planet" is really the Guiding Star's (Ash) hiding place

The Guiding Star is named Luminaria

Luminaria had been healing the Space Explorer, literally keeping the name Clay Calloway, after he crashed landed there

She didn't feel she could send him out on his own to return home

So when Rosita and Robo-Piggy arrive, she tests them to see if they are pure in their intentions to take him home

Then he comes walking out cause yes

Also, Clay's costume was made on the spot by up-cycling clothes Raela bought from the thrift stores and flea markets

And honestly by stealing borrowing a few leather jackets Porsha yanked from the closet in her dad's office

Getting those with Jerry sleeping in his own office was not easy in the slightest

Nooshy was hired on by Buster as his choreographer

The night cleaners didn't stay with the group, but the Majestic was VERY quick about getting their places filled for Porsha's solo

This has been my 2am rambles. Thank you for coming to my TED Talk.

#sing2 #sing movie #sing 2 oc #sing 2 johnny #sing 2 porsha #sing headcanons #meena seriously pissed me the fuck off you have no clue #didnt understand the hate until now #i think too much #because yes #it wasn't necessary but my brain had fun ok

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darkacademicfrom2021 · 4 years ago

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Flufftober - Day 2

2 - Sneaking Out Together

@prompts-in-a-barrel prompt in bold. Written for @flufftober2021 's event.

Pairing: Loki x Stark!reader

Tags: fluff, fluff FLUFFFFFFF (this is flufftober, of course there’ll be fluff). A tiny tiny bit of angst in the beginning (if you really squint) and maybe… maybe some father issues as well. I’m not discussing this with my therapist.

Word count: 1,2K

A/N: Listen. There isn’t an actual “sneaking out” because technically it isn’t. But it’s the most similar thing it could be, and honestly I like how it ended up.

Gif not mine.

“There was only one rule you had to follow”, started Tony Stark, in front of fucking everyone. The whole team was in there, and you wanted to bury your face in your arms, but you couldn’t. You couldn’t because if there was one thing you’d never lose, it was your dignity. So, you sat right, with your eyes directly on your father’s as he kept going on how bad it was what you had just done. “Just one rule about dating. What have I told you?”.

“Don’t get in trouble”, you repeated, the phrase already memorized. “You know, I don’t see what the big deal is about. I never got in trouble, and I’m not a little kid anymore, you can’t actually control my dating life”.

“As long as you live under my roof, you can’t date criminals. No, wait. As long as you’re an Avenger, for moral stuff, you can’t date criminals”.

“Firstly, he’s not a criminal. Secondly, I only live with you because I’m an Avenger. Thirdly, we’re not dating”.

“Are we not?”, inquired Loki from the doorframe. You shot a panicked look over him, and calmed yourself down as you saw his teaseful smirk showing across his face.

“Can we talk alone?”, you asked, and Tony and you walked out of the room to talk in the corridor. “I just… I just want you to support me, dad. That’s all I ever wanted”, you said, lowering your voice and head, knowing all of your confidence had faded away as soon as he looked at you with that disappointed look he’s always looked at you with.

“I can support you in many things, dear. I really do. I love your work in the science projects you’re doing… and your new friends are great, and I know how hard it is for you to socialize”, you sighed, and looked at him knowingly, because if your relationship could be described in a phrase, it definitely was “not the point I’m trying to make”.

“But?”.

“But how can I support you when you’re making a huge mistake?”.

You sighed in frustration and wiped a tear away.

“If you think being around him is a mistake then why did you even let him in the team to begin with? Why didn’t you just refuse Thor's demand of keeping him here? You know me, you knew I’d get attached”.

“So, you’re admitting you’re dating?”.

“Yes, we are something. Maybe not dating. I don’t know what we are”.

“Oh, what a great way to tell me you’re fucking. Great, nice. I love to hear that my little…”.

“No, not your ‘little-something’, dad. I’m an adult now. So take it or leave it. This is what’s happening, and whether you like it or not, Loki is actually really nice to me. He’s a gentleman, he treats me right, he’s all the Prince Charming you’d think an actual prince is”.

“Just… do me a favor and don’t lie for him, would you? He’s got that much already on him”.

“I’m not lying”, you looked at him defiantly, yet with that tenderness he always saw in you, even as a little kid.

Tony sighed, knowing you were honest.

“Please, don’t let him take your goodness away”.

That same night you couldn’t sleep. You rolled around in your bedsheets, grasping to them for your dearest dreams, but anxiety won, once again. You thought of your studies, your homework, your grades. You thought of your father and your dating life. You thought of Loki. You thought of him way too often. You knew —you were sure— you had fallen irremediably in love with him.

Who wouldn’t? He truly was prince charming.

Speaking of which, you heard a soft knocking at your window. You got up from bed and covered yourself up with a blanket, walking to see who was calling you at such late hours of the night.

The moonrays shone brightly and they were the only way you could see around; otherwise, it would be only darkness. Nights were better now, and Loki was in there, waving hello with that big smile of his, looking up at you as if he were Romeo. He truly was.

You smiled back and opened your window, looking around for any sign of your parents or Jarvis’s cameras being a bitch, and when there wasn’t any, you finally rested your elbows on your window frame and gave him the dreamy eyes he loved to be stared at with.

“My little love?”, he called in a whisper, yet you could still hear it.

“Dear”, you called him back. “Why are you awake?”.

“I can’t sleep without you”, he said, and you smiled involuntarily. Maybe your feelings weren’t so out of place after all. Maybe he felt the same way, and the only thing in your way was your dad and his prejudices.

“Really?”, you laughed softly, and he laughed too.

“Why are you awake, pray tell?”.

“Thoughts”.

“Of what?”.

“Of who, you may say”, you said, and he raised his eyebrows, wondering. “Of you, of course. And of my school books, that’s for sure”.

“Love and anxiety, all in one big package”, he said, and you rested your head over the heels of your hand. Did you just admit your love for him? And did he take it well? “I think it’s only fair for me to invite you to the library. The one from the compound is open at any time, right?”.

“Is this a study date at 4am?”.

“Darling, your idea of romanticism is so nerdy”, he laughed. “But if you may call it a date, then I’ll bring the candles”, he added, appearing a rose in his hand. “Shall I quote Shakespeare, too? Or is it enough for…?”.

“Well, no need to mock me, now”, you chuckled, while reaching for your clothes. “Meet you there?”.

“I’ll be there in a second, quite literally”, he said right before vanishing under a veil of green lights.

The night was spent with chattery over homework, with fun illusions he made in his hands, playing games and kissing —a lot. The night was spent so much, tiredness finally fell over you two, and before you could even realize, the sun had bathed both of your sleepy figures bent over the table, head resting over your arms. Loki was right in front of you and his legs intertwined with yours under the table. Books spread everywhere, you even used some as pillows. Not even once, you realized someone could walk in the library and let everyone know where you were last night.

And, as said, Tony and Pepper walked nonchalantly into the study area of the library, only to find you two sleeping over a pile of undone homework. You still had the rose behind your ear and a smile you wouldn’t be able to wipe off even awake. Pepper smiled and looked at Tony, who was staring in realization.

“They seem… good together”.

“You could even say happy? Good for each other?”, hinted Pepper, fighting back a giggle.

“Maybe… maybe they were right after all. I could give the guy a chance”, he nodded, rolling his eyes. “Now, let’s get those papers and close the curtains, they seem like they just fell asleep”.

(Taglist: @lucywrites02 , @louieboo87 @the-departed-potato , @jesuswasnotawhiteman , @idontknow296 , @beksib , @spythoschei , @geekwritersworld , @whatafuckingdumbass , @mysticunicorn7 @shadowolf993 , @joscelyn02 , @t00-pi , @selfship-mishaps , @sallymagnoliaposts , @deadgirl88 , @theonewiththenerds , @vicmc624 , @spiderlaufeyson @theaudacitytowrite )

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angryinternetduck · 4 years ago

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Bet On It

HELLO i’m back again with not only another fic but another friends to lovers!!! here’s 5.9k on hotel mishaps, long-term bets, and falling in love. featuring harry styles x reader with just a few warnings of explicit language and alcohol consumption.

enjoy!!!

masterlist | ask

***

Five Years Ago

If you hadn’t met him an hour before in the bar of the hotel, you would’ve said no. Share a hotel room with a stranger just because the hotel fucked up and double booked a room? No. Absolutely not.

Except -

His name was Harry. He was very cute. And sweet. He complimented your shoes in the bar, dimpling at you all cutely before holding out his hand and introducing himself. He let you prattle on for way too long, laughing at all your jokes and nodding gravely when you started getting serious.

And surprisingly, when you said you had to go, he didn’t ask you out or try to kiss you. He just told you it was nice to meet you with a smile. Problem was that that wasn’t the last you saw of him; when you went up to the desk to get your key card, the receptionist informed you of the mistake.

“We’ve double booked it. You’ll have to work it out amongst yourselves,” they said. “We can suggest other places to stay, or you can sleep in the lobby. Or - of course, you can always share. He’s over there. Guy in the pink shirt.”

You looked over, and lo and behold…

“Harry.”

“We meet again.”

“Was this your doing?” you joked. “All that to get me in a room with you?”

Harry grinned. “I wish I were that smart.”

“So just coincidence?”

“Or perhaps fate,” Harry replied with a shrug.

“Did you know?” you asked. “When you, uh - introduced yourself?”

He shook his head and said, “Not that it was you.”

“Well, now that you do, what do you say? Share the room?”

Harry tilted his head from side to side, pondering. “Let’s prove it was fate,” he decided, meeting your gaze with a grin. Your brows furrowed, and he clarified. “Rock, paper, scissors. I win, we’ll share. You win, I’ll find somewhere else to stay.” He held out his fist.

“Won’t make me find somewhere else?” you asked, smiling a bit. “Would rather share?”

He shrugged.

“Alright, then.”

Both of you counted silently, in your heads -

Rock, paper, scissors…

Harry grinned, and you made a fist from your scissors to bump his rock.

“Fate it is,” you said.

Fate proved to be in your favor; that night, you had the most fun you’d ever had in your life. To your surprise, however, the fun didn’t involve sex. Just talking. You sat on the bed drinking booze from the minifridge and talking until dawn with this Harry Styles.

It came up at one point, sex - or at least kissing did - but neither ever happened.

It was around three, when the exhaustion had set in, when you were lying down, gazing into each other’s eyes, half asleep. “Why haven’t you kissed me yet?” he’d whispered, and you grinned at him. “I should be asking you that, don’t you think?”

He looked confused. “Why’s that?”

“You’re the one in love with me,” you told him.

He giggled, rubbing his eyes. “And what makes you say that?”

“You wanted to share!” you exclaimed, like it was obvious, because it was.

“Sharing is caring.”

You bounced your brows. “Caring. Loving.”

Harry laughed and insisted, “Not the same!”

“I’d bet a million bucks you’re in love with me,” you murmured, tapping his nose.

“Then a million bucks you’d lose.”

“You will be,” you said, nodding slightly.

“Yeah?” Harry asked, a smile growing on his lips.

“Yeah.”

“Do you have a million bucks to give me on my deathbed when I still only care?” he said.

“Do you have a million bucks to give me when you confess?” you said back.

He stared at you for a second. His eyes were very green, his smile very wistful. “A kiss.”

“A kiss?” you echoed.

Harry nodded. “I will bet you one kiss that I will never fall in love with you.”

“You’re gonna want a lot more than one kiss when you inevitably do,” you whispered.

“At least one kiss,” he amended.

“At least one kiss,” you agreed.

“Shake on it?”

You both shifted around in the bed so you could shake hands without sitting up.

“It’s a bet,” Harry said.

And so it was.

***

Present Day

“Give it to me straight, Styles,” you greet Harry, plopping down at your table with a sigh.

He hesitates for a moment, drawing out the suspense, and then breathes, “Care.”

You shake your head disappointedly. “Unbelievable, how bad you are at lying, you -”

Harry interrupts, “What’s really unbelievable is your tardiness -”

Then you do: “Your annoyingness -”

He pouts and fires back, “Your vocabulary -”

“Your lack thereof -”

“That’s not proper English.”

You stick your tongue out at him. “You’re not proper English.”

“I promise you I am,” he replies with a smirk.

“I’ve always thought the accent was fake.”

“If it were, I’d be the greatest impersonator to walk the earth.”

“Impersonator?” you repeat. “And tell me, what is an impersonator but a talented liar?”

He gives you a grin. “I’ll take the compliment of talented, thank you.”

Leveling his gaze, you smile back and take a sip of your drink. “You know, I think that actually was proper English,” you muse. “Lack thereof. Your vocabulary - or lack thereof.” Harry bites his lip, eyes narrowed, staring at you, and you’re tempted to joke that his focus is lust when he replies, “It’s still wrong. I was saying your vocabulary is naive, and by saying I have none, you’re fundamentally saying the same. It’s redundant.”

Clearly satisfied with himself, he sits back, smiles smugly, and takes a sip of his coffee.

“Harry Styles,” you say, “I’m going to smack that smirk right off your pretty face.”

“Second compliment in a day!” Harry exclaims. “Someone alert the press.”

You roll your eyes, taking a sip of your own drink. “Why, they’d have a field day.”

The little cafe you’re in is absolutely adorable. It’s midway between your place and Harry’s, and after that fateful night in the hotel (during which you learned you live so close to each other), you began a tradition of meeting here once a week.

Tradition doesn’t end with just the location and time. Each meeting is almost exactly the same. You’re always late, and you always greet him the same way: some variation of “Have you fallen in love with me yet?”

And his reply is always the same: negative.

From there, the conversation wanders as much as it ever does, with one asking about the other’s week and the response being long and filled with complaints and woes and lamentations. The question is echoed back, and the response is - again - long, filled with complaints, woes, etc.

Despite the moaning and groaning, the mood never falls too low. It’s impossible to feel down around Harry Styles; just one look at those dimples makes a smile of your own appear on your face.

Your friendship with him has certainly blossomed. It’s a wonder he hasn’t fallen in love yet (or maybe he has, you’ll never know unless he says), and a greater wonder still that he hasn’t turned the question around on you.

Because the answer would be yes. You have, in fact, fallen in love with him.

Deeply, madly, in love.

But he’ll never know, because you’ll never say.

***

“I love you,” you tell Harry breathlessly, looking up at him lovingly. “Most ardently.”

Harry shakes his head. “No, no - I’m just a girl! I’m just a girl, standing in front of -”

“I’ll always be there for you!” you cut in excitedly. “All the love in my heart, Llo -”

“Michael, I love you!” Harry gushes. “Choose me, marry me, let me make you happy!”

You jump up and jut a finger at him dramatically. “We live in a cynical world!” you exclaim. “A cynical world, and we work in a business of tough competitors. I love you! You - you complete me!”

Harry jumps up to match you and begins, “I hate that -” then shakes his head and restarts, “I hate the way you’re always right, I hate it when you lie - I hate it when you make me laugh and - and - and even worse when you make me cry - I hate the way - I hate it when” - he’s grinning big now, jumping with excitement and passion - “you’re not around and the fact you didn’t call - but - but mostly I hate the way I don’t hate you, not even a little bit, not even at all!”

It all came out in a rush of jumbled words and you’re so impressed you can’t help but sit back down and clap for him. Bright red, Harry takes a bow and collapses onto his couch next to you. “That took way too much effort,” he says, out of breath.

“It was worth it,” you tell him. “That was dazzling, really. You should go on the road.”

Harry nods. “One man show. Shakespeare. All of his long monologues, then bam - a poem better than all the others combined.” You giggle and fall into him, leaning against his chest with a sigh. “I’ll come with you,” you say. “Follow you to the ends of the earth and hold my breath to Pluto.”

“What’s that from?” Harry asks.

“That’s all me, baby.”

“Maybe the poem better than all the others combined could be yours.”

“Impossible,” you say immediately. “Nothing will ever beat Kat Stratford.”

“I’ll manage.”

You scoff. “You?”

“We.”

You shake your head. “There’s no ‘we’ in genius, Styles, but there is an I.”

“And a U!” Harry replies.

You look up at him.

“Wait.”

Snickering, you sit up and stretch your arms towards the ceiling. “Stick to memorization, maybe. Leave the heavy lifting to me. You need some practice on that speech, anyway - I counted at least three errors, not to mention the stuttering.”

“Practice makes perfect,” Harry sings. “What do you say, can I confess my love to you every night for the sake of practice?” You shake your head, standing up again and grabbing an empty container of food to throw away. “Not without losing the bet.”

Harry follows you, cleaning up as he goes. “Just for the one man show!”

“No exceptions.” You grin at him, grabbing your stuff and heading for the door. “Thanks for the food, Styles. I’ll see you Sunday?” Harry nods and blows you a kiss, which you catch and put in your pocket. “I’ll save that for when you lose the bet,” you tell him.

“Get outta here,” Harry laughs.

You stick your tongue out at him and stick a post it note on the door frame as you leave.

***

Harry usually wakes up to a few texts. Maybe a call every so often. Notifications from social media aren’t uncommon. The only days he wakes up to nearly a hundred texts are the nights you decide to go to the outlook.

Whether or not you like staying up late normally, you stay up until the wee hours of the morning to go to this place you found about three hours outside of the city. It’s a bit of a drive, but it’s completely worth it.

There’s a little woods out there, and a while ago you went a bit off path and found an outcropping of rocks that look out over the city. At night, stars are visible. There’s nothing you love more than lying for hours on the cool stone, gazing up at the heavens above.

The first time you took Harry to the outlook, you asked a question, and Harry’s answer to that question was one of the only lies he’s ever told you. You’d asked, “You’re not afraid of heights, are you?”

And Harry had said, “Of course not!” when in reality, he’d been looking for an opening to mention that very fear for the twenty minutes before, while you’d been climbing steadily uphill through the trees.

In his defense, there was no way he could’ve said anything different. You were just so happy, glowing with excitement and practically buzzing with energy. Plus, you’d grabbed his hand at the moment you asked to pull him up the last ridge and he was still a bit startled.

He never came to regret that lie. He grew out of the fear, anyway, so it wasn’t a huge deal. In fact, he’s almost come to love heights. He loves the thrill, the burst of happiness, the insane phenomenon of a racing heart and the feeling of being totally at peace all at the same time.

Incidentally, he also feels that way around you, whether the two of you are a hundred feet up or not. He’s always enjoyed spending time with you, and even just seeing you makes him happy. It’s what makes you a good friend.

Harry’s gone with you a few times to the outlook, but it’s usually pretty late by the time you want to go. Sometimes you’ll call him and he’ll pick up, and you’ll talk on the phone until one of you falls asleep.

You went last night, apparently, because Harry scrolls through seventy-two text messages this morning. It takes a while, since he reads all of them and then replies, but he woke up early anyway so it’s fine.

It’s Sunday, so he’s headed to the cafe to meet you. He has a cup of coffee even though he’ll get one at the cafe, too. There’s a sticky note on the coffee maker - Note to self: tell Harry there’s a snickers bar in his sweatshirt pocket - which you probably left a few days ago.

Harry smiles at the note, then frowns, sticking his hand in his pocket. There is, in fact, a Snickers bar in there, and Harry throws it out. It’s from almost a month ago, when you and him had an August Halloween. The sun is just a little too bright. Harry listens to music in the car, humming along and tapping his hands against the wheel in time.

You’re late, of course, so he orders his second cup of coffee and reads a newspaper on the shelf while he waits. Today it’s five minutes until you arrive, which is actually more on time than usual, and Harry throws you a large brimmed hat he found in his closet when you approach the table.

“What say you, Harry Styles,” you greet him, catching the hat and placing it on your head. “Make a jester laugh” - you form a heart with your fingers - “or make a jester cry?” Your heart cracks in two as you pout at him.

Breaking a finger-heart of his own, Harry grins. “Laughing clowns were always creepier to me,” he tells you. You trace a finger down your cheek like a tear and sit down across from him, sliding a menu from its place on the wall and beginning to read it over.

You look up at him, half smiling, a joke on your lips, and then -

Harry blinks.

Just like that, something’s changed.

You snap in front of his face. “Hello? Anything? You could at least pretend to laugh.”

“Christ, sorry,” Harry breathes. “What’d you say?”

Raising a brow, you lean forward and inspect him. “You alright, there, Styles?”

“If I were any better and it’d be obscene,” Harry answers easily, tapping your nose.

Grinning, you sit back. “Fantastic. Tell me, then, how it’s been. Fill me in.”

“It’s a lot better seeing you in that hat.”

“Oh, I forgot!” you exclaim, looking up at it.

Harry giggles and asks, “You wanna know what one hat said to the other?”

“Oh, boy.”

“I’ll see you on a-head!”

Groaning dramatically, you throw the hat at him and bury your face in your hands.

***

"This is getting embarrassing, Styles,” you say as you walk up to Harry.

He turns around, a smile already on his face, and begins, “What’s -”

He stops when he sees you, because you’re all dressed up. You look absolutely stunning, which was on purpose, because of course you want to see his reaction, whether he loves you or not. And it’s very satisfactory, this reaction.

“You look fantastic,” Harry says softly.

You clear your throat, a little put off by how serious he’s being. “That was the goal.”

His eyes float back up to meet yours, a small smile on his face. “Thank you for coming.”

“You’re welcome,” you chirp. “But don’t let your head get too big - I only came for the free food and movie.” Finally, the glaze over his eyes fades, and he grins at you. He takes your arm, and as you walk, he asks, “You started a thought, you know, about something embarrass-”

You scoff. “You asked me on a date, Styles!”

“I did not!” Harry insists. He shakes his head. “My date ducked out at the last second -”

Smirking, you cut in, “Wonder why, Mr. Pink Suit.”

“- we were going to match, thank you - but really, she ducked out, and I wasn’t about to waste two perfectly good tickets. Thus… here we are.” He nods, like he’s pleased with his answer, but you raise a brow at him. “That’s a terrible excuse. You can just say you love me. I’ll accept.”

You arrive at his car. “Not yet,” he says, and then he gets in.

He starts the car, and for a moment, you gaze out the window.

Then, breaking the silence, you say, “I like the suit.”

“I like the look.”

“Thanks, I came up with it all by myself.”

“Impressive.”

You wait a moment, and then ask, “What inspired the pink?”

“She said she wanted a pink rose.”

Frowning, you begin, “I thought you said pink roses are -”

“Yeah, they’re not my favorite,” he mumbles.

You snicker a little. “Oh, what a bad date in high school can get you…”

“Hey, don’t tease,” Harry whines with a pout.

“Sorry, sorry,” you murmur. “You’re nice to dress up anyway. No rose, though?”

Sheepishly, he tells you, “I… forgot.”

“You forgot?” you laugh.

“Yeah…”

“Well, um… well, it’s the thought that counts.”

Harry pulls into the parking lot and parks the car, then unlocks the doors. “Come on,” he says, but you frown at him, confused. “You know you pulled in the wrong way?” you ask, but he just beckons with his hand and opens the trunk.

You hadn’t even looked - there’s pillows back there, and candy, and blankets, and he flicks on little fairy lights. “Harry Styles, you romantic!” you gasp, enthralled. “Wow, I gotta meet this girl, if you’re doing all this for her…”

He sits down and pats the space next to him, then grabs a pack of candy - your favorite. He hands it to you, which you take with a slow smile. “Her favorite too?” you ask. “Nope,” Harry replies, shaking his head as he opens his own pack of candy. “Forgot to ask her, but when I called her in the store she wouldn’t pick up so I just… got yours.” He clears his throat and hands you a bag of popcorn. “There’s this, too.”

“Thanks, Styles.”

On the huge screen in front of you, the movie begins to roll. You take a risk, sliding a little on the seat so you’re leaning against Harry, head against his chest. You can feel him breathing, his heart beating, his arm around your waist, thumb gently moving back and forth over the fabric of your clothes.

You fall asleep for most of the movie.

When you wake up, you’re leaned against a pillow, not Harry. Frowning and out of sorts, you sit up and rub your eyes. He’s leaned against the car outside, on the phone, and you can just barely make out what he’s saying.

“... I know, it’s… Yeah, I - I’m sorry you couldn’t make it, love. I missed you…”

The familiar feeling of tears building behind your eyes horrifies you, and you have to turn your back to him as tears start slipping down your cheeks. You’d somehow managed to convince yourself that it was all a ruse, that he’d meant it to be you from the start, that there was no other girl, that all along it was -

“Hey,” Harry says.

You cough, palming away the tears on your face and yawning like you’d just woken up. “Oh, hey… How’s, um - how’s she doing? Or - whoever - I mean -” You squeeze your eyes shut, shaking your head. “Sorry,” you whisper.

“She’s fine,” Harry tells you. “How are you? Took a pretty long nap there…”

“Yeah,” you murmur. “I was… I’m tired.”

“C’mon, then, let’s get you home.” He smiles at you, dimpling adorably, and holds out his hand. You take it and slide off the back of his car. “Thanks,” you say. He nods and shuts the trunk while you get into the passenger seat.

You don’t say anything as he starts the car, as he backs out and heads for your place. He glances over at you, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel, and eventually turns on the radio. You fold up a sticky note and covertly slide it into the center console.

“I’ll see you Sunday,” you tell him when he stops the car.

He nods. “See you then.”

You hold his gaze for a second, and then get out of the car. As you’re shutting the door, Harry says, “Hey!” and you stop. “Hey, er - thank you. For coming tonight. I know it was a little… It was a bit much.”

“Not too much at all,” you say softly. “Bye, Harry.”

You shut the door.

***

The sticky note business began about a year after Harry met you. He’d mentioned something about refrigerator magnets being the most charming form of communication ever invented, and the next day he found a sticky note on his mirror that said, Note to self: find a more charming form of communication than refrigerator magnets.

Harry doesn’t find the sticky note in his console until the next night, when he’s driving home after working late and he’s trying to find his phone. It’s ringing, and it’s your ringtone, which is really, really annoying because you set it to the worst song you could think of so he’d be motivated to pick it up fast.

It’s not in the center console. It’s actually in his pocket. He picks it up.

“Harry, you gotta tell me now,” you say immediately. “Do you love me?”

“I -”

“Love or care, Styles.” You sound breathless. “L or C. Lover or Cunt. Tell me now.”

“Cunt,” Harry says reflexively, and then shakes his head. “I mean -”

“You don’t love me.” You don’t sound upset at all. You’re just clarifying.

Harry frowns. “I… What’s going on?”

“Well, I think I love this guy, Styles, and I’m about to fuck him, so I’ll talk to you later.”

And then you hang up.

Harry stares at his phone for a moment. Then he puts it down, frowning at the street in front of him, and thinks for a while until he gets home. When he does, he’s shutting the center console, which he’d left open, and he sees the little post it note.

Note to self: buy a pink rose for h to make him like them bc they’re pretty

Sitting in his car, staring at the note, Harry can’t help but think he’s messed it all up.

***

Sunday. You don’t show up.

***

Another Sunday. Harry orders a coffee and reads the newspaper.

You don’t show up.

***

You answer a text.

He asks if you’re okay, and you say, Yup!

***

You send a text.

Hey, Styles? Can you bring me a flower?

***

He should’ve gone to your place first, Harry’s thinking. He should’ve checked there, and then gone here. But it’s too late now. He’s stepping out of his car, trekking through the forest, and he’s finally here, and -

You’re on your back, staring at the stars.

“You know, I really thought he was the one.”

Harry bites on his lip and fiddles with the flower in his hands. “Did you?”

There’s a beat of silence. Then you sigh and sit up. “No.”

“He didn’t - you’re not… You’re okay, right?”

“Nothing’s broken but my heart,” you murmur. “Physically, I’m fine, emotionally, I’m…”

You fade off, and Harry sits next to you and hands you the flower.

“Yellow,” you whisper. You look up at him, eyes wide in the moonlight. “Why yellow?”

“Color of your shirt the first time I met you.”

Smiling, you murmur, “Memory of an elephant.”

“I couldn’t remember her favorite candy,” Harry says impulsively. He shuts his eyes, exhaling softly. “Sorry. Wrong thing to say.” You shake your head, looking forward again. “It’s fine. How’s she doing?”

“Wouldn’t know.”

Surprised, you glance at him again. “You mean you -?”

Harry shrugs. “She said my priorities weren’t right. Then she said goodbye.”

“We’re just a coupla broken hearted fools, aren’t we?” you say quietly.

“Broken hearted, yes,” Harry replies, “but I’m not a fool. Don’t know about you.”

You scoff, hitting his chest with the back of your hand. “We’re having a moment here!”

“Sorry, sorry,” Harry says, but he’s laughing so the apology is moot.

There’s a beat of silence, and then you say, “I would’ve known about her if I hadn’t missed all our Sundays. I’m sorry.” Harry shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it. Did you have fun, at least? With Mr. Heartbreak?”

You giggle. “So much fun.”

“Well… that’s good, at least.”

He looks at you, really looks, and for a moment, he forgets himself.

You’re looking up at the stars, your head tilted up, your lips curved upwards in a smile.

Harry’s expression matches yours. It’s one of quiet awe, of happiness and joy and adoration. He’s smiling, too, but it’s not as conscious. It’s more reflexive, something he can’t help but do whenever he catches sight of this view. He’s not looking at the stars, though - his gaze is focused on you.

“Come on!” you exclaim suddenly, jumping up. “This is the perfect excuse to watch The Notebook again.” Harry blinks, standing up and following you back to his car. “You took the words right out of my mouth,” he says.

***

Ideally, on the anniversary of your meeting Harry, you’d both rent a hotel room and get drunk on the minibar, talking nonsense until morning, to properly reenact that first night together. Problem with that is that hotel rooms cost money.

So instead, you have a sleepover. Last year it was at your place, so this year it’s at his. The good thing about not being in a hotel is that you can buy normal size bottles of booze, rather than the teeny ones from the minibar.

He’s grabbing everything from the kitchen while you’re queueing up the movie on the TV in his room. It’s not cooperating, though, and you’re rooting through all the wires in the back to try and find something that’s supposed to be connected.

“Harry, if you don’t get in here this second!” you shout at him.

“Did you get the other remote?” he shouts back.

You groan and whine, “Just come in here!”

“I haven’t gotten everything yet! Look for the second remote. It’s in one of the drawers.”

“Which drawers?” you yell.

He doesn’t reply.

So you ruffle through the drawers closest to the TV. Books, papers, chargers. No remotes. You go further and find his record collection. A few photo albums. You stick a sticky note on the top one that says, Note to self: go through these. There’s more books. A few DVDs.

And then - a folder. It has a yellow flower on it.

Frowning, you glance at the door behind you and then flip it open. What must be a hundred post it notes fall out. Your jaw drops, just slightly, because they’re all from you. Every sticky note you’ve ever left him is in this folder. He kept them all.

“Did you find it?” Harry shouts.

You ask, “Find what?” but your voice is too soft and he doesn’t hear you.

He shouts your name again, and you quickly shove the folder back where you got it. You clear your throat, then yell, “Harry, I can’t find it!” Finally, he comes in, arms full of food and drink, and tugs open the top drawer on his bedside table with his foot.

And there it is.

“Have I got to do everything around here or what?” he jokes.

You give him a laugh and set up the TV, which works just fine now that you have the right tools. Harry sets everything down and puts his hands on his hips, raising a brow at you. “You alright?” he asks.

“Yeah, fine,” you tell him. “Just grew a few white hairs waiting for you to come back.”

He sticks his tongue out and tosses a bag of chips at you. “Ha, ha, very funny.”

Finally, the movie’s set up, and you lean against his bed, sighing in contentment as the opening credits start to play. Harry hands you a glass and holds his own out, which you knock against your own. “Cheers, Styles,” you say. “To five years.”

“And counting.”

Grinning, you drink up and then settle back to watch the film.

***

His voice is thick.

Like honey.

It drips off his tongue, catches on his lips, slides down the column of his throat and glistens in the dim light. It’s rich. Deep. It turns to crystal in the cool air around you as his words fade off. You want to reach out and feel it on your fingers, want to taste it on your tongue, want to feel it slide over your lips, down your throat…

“... and then, suddenly, I was flying out the window with the worst pain I’ve ever -”

“Harry,” you interrupt with a giggle, “this is the third time you’ve told this story tonight.”

“It’s a good story!”

“Lemme see,” you say, crawling forward, and you’re on his lap now but you can’t really bring yourself to care because this is for scientific purposes. Harry grins and puts his hands on your waist and you giggle again and put your fingers on his jaw. “Lemme see your tongue.”

“Wanna see it or touch it?”

You smirk and reply, “How ‘bout lick it?”

“That’s gross!” Harry exclaims with a delighted laugh.

“I know!” you exclaim back, equally delighted.

“It’s broken,” Harry says, but he’s opening his mouth so it comes out all warbled. “I’m broken, you know -” You peer at his tongue, but it doesn’t look very broken. “No, you’re not,” you tell him.

“On the inside,” Harry says, pouting at you.

You laugh and wrap your arms around his neck, nestling your head on his shoulder in a hug. “You’re warm,” you say, “that’s what you are.” Harry nods against you, running his hands up and down your back. “You fix me,” he slurs into your neck.

“That’s so romantic!” you giggle.

You sit there for a second, breathing him in, feeling happy, and then suddenly -

“I’m roasting,” Harry says, and it’s morning.

“I’m so hot,” you groan, “and my head hurts so bad…”

Harry grunts and pushes against you. “Get off me.”

You open your eyes, squinting in the sunlight, and fall off of him and onto the floor.

He stands up, moaning and groaning, and walks out. You may have fallen asleep again because when he comes back in and hands you a glass of water and some medicine you’re blinking back awake. “Thanks,” you mumble, downing both.

“That was something,” Harry says.

“Something for sure,” you say.

“I can’t move,” Harry says.

“Me neither.”

So you don’t. The day drags on, and when you’re both coherent enough for food you go to the kitchen. Harry cooks something up, and you eat it, sitting next to him at the kitchen island. You feel his foot against yours, and you play a half-delirious game of footsie as you finish eating.

Once you’re all done, Harry stands up and starts to wash the dishes. You watch him, watch his back and his arms and the way he moves, and stand up and stand next to him, grabbing a dish towel and holding out your hand. He hands you the plate, and you dry it.

It’s comfortable, the silence, and it’s more than peaceful, standing there drying dishes with Harry in the early afternoon. There aren’t many dishes, but you both take your time, and eventually he breaks the silence and the productivity to put on some music.

And then, suddenly, you’re dancing, a smile on your face that you can’t seem to get rid of curving your lips as you float around the kitchen with him. He’s bopping along to the song, hand in yours, dish towel over his shoulder after he stole it from you.

The dancing carries you to the living room, where he twirls you out so you can collapse onto the couch. He does the same, and you put your feet on his lap, head on the armrest, looking at him.

“You’re staring,” he says.

“You’re in front of me.”

“Excuses, excuses.”

You raise a brow, smiling and still holding his gaze, and then sit up. “Staring contest, go.”

Instantly, he blinks, and you laugh, “Fuck’s sake.”

“No, no, again,” he demands, grinning, and he blinks quickly a few times before declaring, “Go.” The staring begins. Your eyes begin to sting, and you bite your lip, trying to keep your eyes open.

“We should watch Bird Box,” Harry whispers.

“Saw it last week.”

“I saw it,” he corrects. “You hid behind your hands the entire time.”

“You were the one screaming like a baby.”

“I prefer rom-coms, you know that.”

“Sometimes you need a little variety in life.”

“I lost the bet.”

You blink.

“Victory,” Harry says, a bit weakly, blinking too.

Your brows furrow. “What?”

“Victory,” Harry repeats, smiling sheepishly.

“No, no, before that,” you insist, shaking your head.

“I lost the bet,” Harry repeats softly.

You swallow thickly. “What bet?”

Harry bites his lip, concentrating, and then stands up and walks away. You scoff, following him, and ask again. “What bet?” He shakes his head, quiet, and opens his refrigerator, looking for something.

“Harry, for the love of -”

He holds out a kiss. A chocolate kiss.

Your eyes widen.

He steps closer, holding the kiss out on his palm. “I lost the bet,” he says. “I fell in love with you.” Your breath catches in your throat. “I don’t know if you feel the same,” he goes on, “so I… I don’t want to kiss you. I mean - I do, but -”

He holds the kiss closer to you. “I lost,” he finishes quietly.

You can’t find the right words.

So instead, you close the distance and kiss him.

The chocolate kiss falls to the floor, and fireworks erupt behind your eyelids.

After a moment, the words come.

And then, when you pull away for a moment, you both speak at the same time -

“I love you.”

Laughter bubbles from your lips, and Harry grins, kissing you again.

“So I guess I didn’t lose after all,” he murmurs.

You smile against his lips. “Let’s call it a tie.”

***

AHHHH there it is!!!! i actually did write this in like . two days . which was ! great haha but i hope u liked it!!!! if u did, feedback and a reblog would be much appreciated 💜

thanks for reading!

masterlist | ask

#harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles writing #harry styles oneshot #harry styles x y/n #harry styles

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thatweirdoleigh · 4 years ago

Text

Socks (but i finish the fic)

Elijah Mikaelson x reader

Warnings; Eli’s a good husband, and the reader cries oh yeah and reader’s pregnant

a/n ; Here is the full thing!! Cause its cute and for once i actually like the thing that i made.

Imma tag the people i think will enjoy this.

My moms @elijahs-wife @hellotvshowtrash

The Murder aunts; @mikaelson-emma @dumble-daddy

Other Family Members that i don’t really talk to but love and appreciate anyway!; @xxwritemeastoryxx @ronniemikaelson @lady-salvatore @thatfanficstuff @zodiyack @auroracalisto @dizzydancingdreamer @imaginearyparties @alwaysfangirlingish

The giggles of his sisters echoed through the halls and into the entry way as Elijah opened the front door and stepped into his family home. Hope’s laughter and the laughter of his brothers and their wives joining shortly after. Rebekah was telling stories again, of all the mishaps, mistakes and schemes from over the centuries. It made him smile. Today was a good day.

After everything that had happened over the centuries, particularly the past several decades, it seemed like a dream come true to finally feel like a family again. To feel the same humble happiness that they felt when they were all still human. Like touching the stars with their bare hands. So he savored the memories and the joy and the rest that it brought to himself and those he cared so dearly for.

Walking into the parlor he was greeted by the warm welcomes of his family.

“Brother!” Klaus, all but beamed, “Welcome home!” A chorus of welcome home and welcome back echoed behind him.

Elijah grinned, wholeheartedly approving of the laid back posture of his younger brother, his arm slung over the back of the couch behind the witch that Klaus had fallen in love with. It was a stark contrast to the rage and paranoia that plagued him for so many years. “Its good to be home!”

“How was your meeting with the contractor brother?” Finn queried, far more subdued than the others. Even though they had all forgiven him, and profusely apologized for 1000 years of pain, Finn still didn’t feel like he quite belonged with the rest of his family. A fact Elijah had been eager to fix once the realization had set in of exactly how shitty their treatment of him was. Courtesy of Camille, of course. However 900 years in a coffin is not forgotten overnight, so it was still a work in progress. So it further proved to warm Elijah’s heart when his eyes laid upon Finn and found him squished between Freya and Kol’s firecracker of a fiancé, instead of locked in his room.

Elijah smiled at Finn and placed his suit jacket over the back of an unoccupied chair, “It was good. We got all of the final details and planning done and now its we are just waiting for the town to give us a building permit”

“that’s good” Finn replied with a nod.

For context, Y/n was pregnant with Elijah’s child, a miracle given in the form of a spell cast as a wedding gift and created by Kol and Klaus’ wife. Y/n had all but declared that she wanted their children to have as normal lives as physically possible and while the Mikaelsons were hesitant to go along with this plan, it was agreed that perhaps living in a mansion with 4 witches, 6 vampires, and 3 hybrids was not a normal childhood. So it was agreed that they would own a separate family home to raise their children in while still visiting as often as physically possible.

As Elijah looked around and took in the the scene around him he noticed that y/n was not among his siblings and so begged the question as to where was his darling wife?

“If I may ask, where is y/n?”

It was Kol’s fiancé that pipped up. “She came rushing in with a bag, declared that she was going to enjoy her new socks and then she was taking a nap, You know how my twin is Elijah, she gets excited over the simplest things, and then she ran upstairs without another word. Imagine she is asleep by now. Probably has been for a while. ”

Elijah smiled and Keelin looked at her curiously, ”Socks?”

Elijah cleared her confusion “Yes Keelin. Socks. Its seems that my darling wife has developed an affinity for collecting and wearing the most colorful knee-high socks she can find”

“It is rather amusing to watch auntie y/ns excitement.” Hope testified from where she had tucked herself under her father’s other arm. “She rambled on about a pair she had found with neon green strips, all while eating a plate of bacon in the kitchen the other day”

Everyone laughed at the image, and Elijah just shook his head with mirth in his eyes, ”yes well, if you don’t mind I am going to join my wife and unborn child in bed. Goodnight to you all” and a chorus of goodnights followed him down the hall.

As Elijah climbed the stairs he couldn’t help but be reminded of how grateful of all of the things that life has granted him over the years. He had a beautiful wife that loved him and siblings that adored him and soon he would have children of his own.

As Elijah approached the door to his bedroom he couldn’t help but notice something was wrong. Stopping to listen he could hear sniffling and shaky breathes just beyond the door way.

“y/n?” he took the handle and pushed the door open.

There sitting in an armchair in the corner of their room was y/n. She was wearing one of Elijah’s Cambridge sweatshirts and a pair of his boxers. The sweatshirt was cream in color and it matched cream colored socks she held in her hand. While Elijah would normally fawn over how adorable she looked round with his child and dressed in his clothes he was more focused on the tears stains that and puffy red eyes that decorated the face of the love of his life.

Elijah was quick to kneel in front of her and cup her face in his hand “Y/n? Baby what’s wrong? Are you alright?” He placed his other hand on her belly and searched for some kind of injury to suggest that she was hurt.

She looked at him with a watery smile, kissed his hand and said “I found a pair of socks that would match my favorite one of your sweatshirts and I got so excited to wear them.”

She held up the socks and gestured to her feet. “But I cant reach, so I cant put them on. And it made me so sad that I cried.”

Elijah’s face relaxed and he gave a sigh of relief, realizing it was something simple that he could easily fix. So he gently took the socks from her hands and unfolded them so he could put them on her. He rolled them up and then pulled them all the way up her legs to just below her knees and then gave a kiss to her nose. “there “ he whispered. “all better.”

“thank you ‘lijah.” She mumbled and then yawned.

“Oh. I think its bedtime.” He stated playfully.

“Im pregnant not two.” She grumbled with another yawn.

Elijah looked at her with nothing but adoration and said “baby you just cried over a pair of socks.” In response she pouted and Elijah couldn’t help but smile.

“Alrighty. Bedtime!” He said scooping her up bridal-style.

“you can’t be serious!” y/n scoffed.

“Dead serious!”

“Eli!” she whined, “don’t make puns when im annoyed at you! Then I can’t enjoy them!”

Elijah only laughed, and then slowly spun her around in a circle. “wheeeeeee!” he said before gently tossing her on the bed.

y/n looked up at her husband in exasperation as she watched him use vampire speed to strip to his underwear and climb onto the bed like a leopard on the prowl.

“I love you.” he purred pressing a kiss to her swollen belly, eyes playfully looking up at her.

She raised an eyebrow, “Me? Or your children?”.

“Both” he replied, gently coercing her backwards onto the bed as he crawled farther up her body his hands rubbing circles into the sides of her stomach. y/n rolled her eyes and chuckled her amusement as he enveloped her in another kiss.

Sighing happily y/n ran her hands through Elijah’s hair, as he eagerly deepened the kiss. However Elijah had to stop this blissful moment rather short.

He furrowed his brow and pulled back slightly so he could see his wife’s eyes, “Children?” he questioned. “plural?”

Now it was y/n’s turn to grin playfully.

“I went to the doctors today.” She said eyes twinkling with mischief. “And i learned something rather interesting.”

Elijah narrowed his eyes, recognizing that she was toying with him. “did you now?”

“I did” she purred rubbing her hands down his neck and shoulders. “Apparently twins are not always magical miracle coincidences. More often than not they are genetic.” and as her smile grew bigger so did Elijah’s. “And considering that I am half of a set, I’d say the trait has passed on.”

Elijah’s grinn was getting bigger by the second. “you mean to tell me. That not only am I getting one daughter.” he leaned in closer until their noses were touching. “I’m getting two?”

“yes” she whispered seductively and elijah expressed his joy by kissing her again.

“And do you wanna know what else I learned?” y/n said slyly as he trailed his kisses down her throat. He grunted quietly for her to continue and y/n leaned up and murmured in his ear, “Both of your ‘daughters’ are sons”

Elijah groaned and pulled back up to her face, “damn. I was really hoping was really hoping for a mini you.” he admitted swallowing y/ns laughter in another kiss.

Y/n pulled him to lay beside her as they both got under the duvet and settled comfortably for bed. y/n lay on her side facing Elijah and he buried his face in her hair his hands finding their way to her rounded abdomen, joyful and excited to meet his children in the nearby future.

“Eli?” she said softly. “will you sing to me?” she asked looking up at him.

“Of course, My love” and so Elijah sang the same nordic lullaby his mother taught him all those years ago and they both drifted off to sleep.

#elijah mikaelson #elijah mikaelson x reader #elijah mikaelson imagine #elijah x reader #elijah mikaelson fluff #elijah mikaelson x happiness #queue have my word #airamas writes a fic #elijah mikealson x reader #leigh wrote a fic

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