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hunflowers · 4 years ago

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Golden

Word Count: 15.3k

Requested? I don’t remember, but you always can here :)

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A/N: Lord, have mercy SHE’S FINALLY HERE!!!!! My baby Golden is finally out to the public and can I just say how fucking relieved I am to post it. I love her, I hope you do too <3 little warning: there are mentions of panic attacks in here, and a heart condition (that i did my best to research on) so if you’re uncomfortable, pls don’t read.

special thanks to my soul baby @stylesloveclub for being my biggest support system with this, she’s dedicated to you <3

for anyone reading this, please reblog! it really helps us writers out. okay onward friends!!! lemme know how i did and if you like it *nose boops*

Water. The ocean. Waves. The tide.

Symbolic of life, birth. Can be used to wash away even the most troubling of sins.

O’ahu, Hawaii, home to some of the best surfing destinations in the state, in the country, in the world. Also home to one of the best surfers in the state, in the country, in the world.

Y/N didn’t coin herself that. Not that she’s complaining about it, but she doesn’t surf for the title. She surfs for the freedom. She feels the most alive when her toes dig into the sand as she runs towards the warm, salt oblivion, her novelty yellow and blue surfboard tucked under her arm.

Her whole life she had been surrounded by water. When she was a baby, she always wanted a bath. When she was a toddler, she always wanted to stay in the kiddie pool. And then she got into surfing, and well, the rest is history so-to-speak. Her parents never got themselves involved in the sport professionally but more as a recreational activity. And it was even how they met, so really there was no stopping surfing from flowing through Y/N’s blood.

Her backyard was the ocean, so growing up, it was really the only thing for her to do. It’s what all the kids were doing, and Y/N was no different. She met her best friends on the beach when they were five years old, practicing the basics of surfing, like getting up on the board and finding their balance with the Earth.

Kalani and AJ, two of the best surfers Y/N will ever meet, and two of the purest souls to ever grace her life. They’re madly in love with one another. Have been for as long as they’ve been friends -- so coming up on sixteen years. Y/N is in awe of their relationship, she really is, but being a third-wheel isn’t exactly something she signed up for. Though, she kind of expected it when growing up.

They tried countless times to set her up with someone, but time and time again their matchmaking skills have failed, and Y/N is tired of them pitying her. No, she may not be in a long term relationship, but she hardly has time for a relationship anyway. Especially with competitions coming up, she needs to keep herself focused on surfing rather than some boy who will probably end up breaking her heart.

Well, that was her intention anyway.

October 27th, the first day of the best months out of the year.

And it started just the same as every other year. Y/N woke up at the crack of dawn and threw on her lucky white bathing suit before throwing an apple down her throat. Her surfboard was perched up against the back patio railing, and she swiftly tucked it under her arm as she made her way down the shore, being greeted by the luminescent sun that was swarming the sea in a shade of tangerine and lemon.

Jogging knee deep into water, Y/N sunk her hand just below the surface, swaying it back and forth, taking a deep breath as she felt the cool texture swarm her body. Exhaling slowly, she threw herself down onto her board, paddling onward into the great unknown. The familiar sound of the crashing waves causing her to flinch for a brief moment before comforting her ears as she watches the restless ocean ahead of her, a smile washing over her face as she could basically see her future ahead of her.

Today marks qualifying day, and obviously if she marks as qualified, she moves forward to the Vans Triple Crown. She’s been training all year, her body practically a prune with how much she’s been in the water. But, a minute can’t go to waste, so up until the very last second where she has to head to the north shore, she’s gonna remain in the water and build her intuition with how the day is going to go.

Last year, Y/N had to cut her time short when she was hospitalized the night before the first competition. So, she was all more determined to win the championship that is rightfully hers. Well, in the women’s division at least. Last year was ripped from her right when it was under her nose and she refuses to have a repeat of it.

After her hospitalization, everyone was convinced she’d never return to the water. Despite the ocean being her second home, everyone figured she would turn away -- avoid the embarrassment last year brought upon her. But, it only made her stronger and more determined to prove everyone wrong. No matter how frightening it really was.

Her first wave of the day had her coasting along smoothly, starting her out easy as waves progressively got bigger with the tide. When she got out into the water, the sun had just broken past the horizon line, yet by the time she left, the sun was nearly at its peak in the sky. Her skin felt raw, yet her body was running on adrenaline as she scoffed down the lunch her mom had made her before they banded into the family van and headed to Sunset Beach on the north shore.

Y/N’s heart raced in her chest, her leg bouncing subconsciously but furiously as she watched the landscape pass her by through the window. Her typically calming music wasn’t even working as she ran through multiple scenarios in her mind of what could go wrong today and how her day, her week, month, even year could be ruined.

Once outside of the van and on the beach, her parents pulled her close into a tight, warm hug, whispering words of encouragement in her ears, knowing just how important this was for her. Surfing and competitions had always been important to Y/N, but following last year’s downfall, this day was going to make or break whatever is left of her both physically and emotionally.

“Y/N!” she heard her name being called from the distance, the three of them immediately letting go of one another as they exchanged sheepish smiles.

“Y/N!” Was called out again, causing her to turn around and see Kalani running straight for the three of them, waving her arms in a drastic manner to gain her best friend’s attention. “Oh my -- I ran so fast, wow, I need to calm down,” Kalani breathed out, closing Y/N into a firm embrace.

“Save your energy for the waves, babe,” Y/N laughed, wrapping her own arms around Kalani’s frame. The two of them were never inseparable, it was kind of like they were actually glued to the hip together ever since they were children. And a lot of people were surprised they remained best friends through the years, what with both of them always competing in the same surfing competitions battling for the first place spot. And they knew this could be a strain on their relationship, but they decided ever since they were seven years old that they weren’t going to let surfing get between them. No matter what, they were always proud of each other for everything they’ve accomplished and are each other’s number one fans.

Thing is, Y/N tends to snag that first place spot a lot of the time, and Kalani always just misses her, earning her the second spot, right beneath her. But, Kalani has grown to accept that Y/N is better at the sport, and that’s nothing for her to be ashamed of. She’s managed to get a few of her own first place wins, and in her eyes, that’s good enough. She can’t live her life being jealous of her best friend because that’s not healthy, and anyway, surfing is much more Y/N’s livelihood than it is her own, so she’s fine with being second best -- despite what others may think.

Tugging her board off the top of the car, Y/N tucked it beneath her arm as she walked hand-in-hand with Kalani to wherever her family had set up camp on the beach. “Where’s AJ?” Y/N wondered, as she looked out into the water and saw no one out in it.

“The boys are starting soon, so he’s with Nav,” Kalani said, finally stopping in front of her parents and younger brother, and AJ’s older brother.

“Y/N!” They greeted, getting up from their chairs to kiss the girl on the cheek before greeting her parents. “It’s so great to see you back here,” Kalani’s mom smiled, pinching Y/N’s cheek before plopping herself back down under the sun.

They all began to catch up with one another since it’s been awhile they’ve all gotten together, all of them falling into old habits as if it hadn’t been months since they were last together. Y/N tried to engage in as much conversation as possible, but her mind tended to wander off as the guys started lining up in the water and making their way out. Her throat dried up and her palms were sweating -- and not from the heat -- as her nerves kicked in. Her memory began to cloud her vision as she stood abruptly and quickly walked away from the group, her heart picking up again.

Her breaths shortened as her mind blurred, and all she wanted was to curl up on her bed and calm her mind. She felt someone’s hand on her back, and immediately she could tell it was her father by the smell of his cologne. Once she was far enough from people, Y/N could feel tears well in her eyes as short images flashed across her eyes, cutting each inhale of breath in half -- which caused her to panic even more as she couldn’t breathe properly.

Last year ruined her, and she absolutely despises that this is considered her normal day-to-day routine now, her body shaking with fear as she feels herself collapsing from the inside, out. “Y/N, honey, can you hear me?” She thinks she hears her father say, but is undetermined with the intense white noise that’s swarming her ear drums.

“Count with me, c’mon, backwards from ten.”

But, all her mind could focus on was her body sinking lower and lower beneath the surface of water.

“Ten… Gotta count, c’mon you can do it, nine.”

“Eight,” she murmured, reaching out to grasp her dad’s shirt tight in her fist, just to make sure that he was really in front of her. She needs to be reminded that last year is her past, and that no matter how forward it is in her mind, it’s not her present anymore and she’s not drowning. “Seven.”

He took her hands and held them to his chest, “Six, keep going.”

“Fi-” she gulps, swallowing the lump in her throat, “..five.”

She makes it all the way down to zero, her body visibly relaxing and mentally as she hesitantly looks around to see no one watching the little event. “Do you want to go home?”

Y/N looks up to her father, shaking her head in response as she sniffles her nose and brushes away the one stray tear that has cascaded down her cheek. “No… I can do this.”

He cocks his head to the side and purses his lips, slowly nodding his head. Wrapping his arm around her shoulders, he turns them back in the direction, walking with her slowly as she continues to gather herself. “You don’t have to prove yourself to anyone, Y/N. Everyone knows you’re an amazing surfer.”

“I think I just need to prove it to myself,” she stated, dragging her feet through the sand like a child so it slowed their arrival time back with the group. She can only imagine that her mom had informed everyone already of what was happening, and the last thing she wants is their sorry eyes and pathetic spouts of pity that she knows she’ll wish they just kept to themselves.

Y/N knows she’s broken. She’s not the same girl everyone knew this time last year, but she doesn’t need to be reminded of it every time she steps into a room. What happened last year was serious and she understands that people are worried; But all she wants is for everyone to forget about it. Including herself. She thinks the thing that’s causing her the most trepidation now -- rather than in the morning or all year long -- is the fact she’s now back in front of a crowd again, eyes trained on her like hawks watching prey, waiting for something awful to happen again.

The only thing missing is the popcorn as they watch this free entertainment.

When they finally came back to everyone, Y/N noticed the guys had started paddling out. Everyone was talking amongst themselves, dismissing her presence as she sat herself down back in the sand, and a breath of relief escaped her lips. The tension was there, but everyone ignored it for her sake, and Y/N couldn’t be more grateful.

“Go, AJ!” Kalani cheered, pumping her fist and shouting a few hoots and hollers afterward. Dom, AJ’s brother, let out a few ear screeching whistles, the kind with the fingers in the mouth, joining in on rooting for his brother.

Watching the guys out there solidified to Y/N how real this really is, and soon her veins were pumping with excitement again instead of dread as she cheered on her best friend. He was going to qualify, they all were and they knew that, but it's always fun to get excited about the possibility of moving forward and winning the titles and earning the trophies.

All the other faces that surfed alongside AJ were mostly familiar, their names ringing bells as the announcers spoke of them, but there was one that Y/N hadn’t ever heard before. It’s the same cycle of people every year, yet this guy was fresh. And the only reason she’s curious as to who he is, is because he’s good. Like, really good.

Kalani can’t exactly remember if she’s heard of him either, shrugging to Y/N’s wonderment, “I don’t know. Maybe AJ knows.” His pink surfboard and pink wet shirt stuck out as he was a sight for sore eyes, and Y/N grew a little resentment towards him as he pulled out a few advanced maneuvers, gaining everyone’s undivided attention that used to be on AJ.

“Who is that?” Y/N’s mother questioned, looking around to see that no one knew the answer.

He was a mystery yet he radiated this vibrant energy as the guys finished their rounds, walking off with grace in his step as he laughed at something Nav -- one of the three’s friends -- had said. The girls bid their goodbyes to their families as they headed over to where the guys were before their rounds. AJ immediately came running over to them, hugging Y/N and Kalani simultaneously before giving his girlfriend a quick kiss on the lips. “You did great,” Kalani smiled, keeping her arms wrapped around his center.

“Alright, not in front of me,” Y/N grimaced, looking away from them. Immediately her eyes landed on the new surfer, still talking to Nav, and she was quick to turn back to AJ to ask who he is. “Hey, who’s the new guy?”

Looking over his shoulder, AJ saw who she was talking about before realization dawned on him. “Oh, that’s Harry. He’s from England. A really nice guy, I bet you’d like him,” he winked, causing Y/N to look at him with squinted eyes and pursed lips.

Kalani nudged his side, giving him a weird look. “What? I’m just saying.”

Then, speak of the Devil, Nav and this Harry guy came walking over, joining the three as they stood around waiting for the announcement that the girls could head out. Y/N wasn’t exactly paying attention to her surroundings as she continued to calm herself down for the impending near future. It wasn’t until Harry had stood in front of her, that she was knocked out of her own thoughts.

She looked up at him, making eye contact and briefly getting her breath caught in her throat. When he was far away, it was hard to make out his facial features or what he exactly looked like. But being right in front of him, she was merely astonished at his beauty, but more so his green eyes that reflected the perfect amount of sunlight. His wet, brunette hair rested against his forehead and seemed to be drying a bit curly.

His head tilted slightly, an amused smirk inching up his face as he watched her reaction. Something tells her he’s used to this kind of reaction. “M’Harry.”

His hand came between the two of them, waiting for her to grasp it in a firm grip. Y/N was hesitant at first but finally took his hand and shook it gently while greeting herself before dropping her hand back down to her side. “Y/N.”

This is insanely awkward. Especially because her friends are just watching the exchange silently, as if they weren’t allowed to speak while the two introduced themselves.

Harry has heard of Y/N. It’s hard for anyone involved in the surfing business to not have heard of her. Aside from the jarring news from last year, she’s an excellent surfer and her name is always spreading around like wildfire. She’s part of the reason Harry decided to delve more into the professional surfing world, because he’s been itching to meet her.

Y/N is attractive, anyone with eyes knows that, but Harry wanted to meet her only because of her expansive skills in the water. Standing in front of her, he can’t deny her undying beauty -- and if he weren’t such a gentleman he’d probably be trying to woo her this very instant. But, her looks aren’t what draws him to her, and he decides to not think with his dick for once.

Before he gets the chance to say something else to her, they get notified that the girls should start heading out for their rounds. Y/N and Kalani grab their boards and tuck them under their arms before bidding their goodbyes to the boys and scurrying off to join the rest of the girls.

“Whipped already?” Nav jokes, wrapping his arm around Harry’s shoulders and leading them to the sand where they’ll watch.

Y/N steps her toes into the water, basking in the cool feeling wrapping around her toes and surging up her body. She rolls her neck feeling it crack softly before rolling her shoulders back and taking in her umpteenth deep breath of the day. Her and Kalani looked at each other, nodding with smiles on their faces before they walked deeper in the shallow water until it reached the middle of their thighs before dropping their boards down and paddling out.

At the sight of a small wave heading toward her, Y/N dipped herself beneath the water just to wet her hair. It felt refreshing again to feel the salt coax her skin for the second time that day, as if it never left. When she greeted the air again, she could immediately feel the rays of the sun bouncing off of her skin, illuminating her in a heavenly glow, like the star she is. The spotlight is on her as she aims herself for the peak of the impending wave, nabbing the first ride of the girls’ round.

Back on the beach, her mom’s fingers were crossed, her dad’s breath was caught in his lungs, and Harry’s eyes were fixated on her figure as she jumped up on the belly of her board. Her legs kept her balance against the rough matter below her. Due to the steep wall of the wave, Y/N had to act quick and rational in order to keep control, and started off with an off-the-lip, which kept her parallel with the wave before she moved herself down and carved herself back into the energy zone.

Because it was a smaller wave, she could only go on for so long before she tipped herself off the board and fell down into the water. Everyone waited with bated breaths and kept their eyes on the area she sunk beneath the blue, before sighing in relief to see her head pop back up. Harry could see the joy wipe over everyone’s faces, replacing the worry that was once there as they hugged one another. He could tell Y/N has such a good support system, and it only urges him more to want to be a part of her life.

Of this life.

❊ ❊

“You guys did so good! We’re so proud,” Y/N’s mom gushed as she pulled her into a warm embrace -- a hug that holds more meaning than just being proud. Her mom was relieved. Grateful. Happy. She’s able to hold her daughter one more time, and that’s all she could ask for. “It’s going to be a good year for all you kids.”

Y/N felt like she was on cloud nine. She was elated, overjoyed, ecstatic, riding such a good high. Her comeback couldn’t have gone any better and she’s just so, so happy. Arriving at the beach she was nervous and anxious and was two seconds away from caving to her fears and running away. Now, as she walks arm-in-arm with her best friend away from the water for the night, she’s laughing a genuine laugh and her veins are currently pumping excitement rather than nerves.

AJ locked his arm over her shoulders, the three of them linked just like they always are as they head towards Y/N’s family van. But, instead of like other times, this time they have a tag-a-long trailing behind them. It’s sort of like a tradition where after every competition, all of the families join together and head to dinner at their usual restaurant. Nav couldn’t come because he had his own family matters to attend to but Harry was more than willing to accept the offer. He says he came to Hawaii alone and that he had nothing better to do, but his intense stare on Y/N when he accepted the offer says that’s not the only reason he was so quick to join.

It was also part of the tradition that they ride together in the van, 1) because it was the most spacious vehicle where they were able to ride together and 2) because Y/N’s parents are pretty fun to be around. They blasted the best music and made the best jokes, causing not one dull car ride. When they filed in, AJ and Kalani pushed themselves to the back seat, leaving Y/N and Harry to sit in the separate middle row chairs.

“Oh! Harry, I’m sorry, I forgot to ask. Does your family want to join us? They’re more than welcome to,” Y/N’s mom looked over her shoulder in the passenger seat.

He cleared his throat, looking up from his phone and sitting up a bit in his seat, an uncomfortable look on his face. “M’here alone, actually.”

Before anyone could ask any questions, AJ clapped Harry’s shoulder, saying, “We’re your temporary family now, man.” Despite being competitors, it seems the two of them really hit it off and AJ genuinely meant what he said about being Harry’s family. Though, everyone knows the main reason he said it was to diminish the rising tension.

“Thanks, mate,” Harry returned, fist bumping AJ. And during the little exchange, Harry caught eyes with Y/N, catching her eyes wandering around his profile and facial features, causing her to look away quickly and look out the window as if the view was something spectacular. She could hear him snicker quietly, and just when she thinks the coast is clear, she slyly looks back at him just to find out he’s already staring at her.

They really love staring at one another apparently.

When they arrived at the restaurant, Y/N and Harry were pushed to the back of the group -- not really by choice but somehow it ended up that way -- and neither of them really made any moves to break the silence between them. Y/N because she was nervous, and Harry because he wanted her to be the first to speak. And it just so happened that when they were sat at a table, they were left with the last two remaining chairs that also happened to be right next to each other. Y/N couldn’t figure out if they were doing this on purpose or it was by coincidence, but she can tell Harry doesn’t mind.

She’s not one to be nervous around guys, but there’s something about Harry and how he is so blatantly interested in her that makes her wary of talking to him. Kalani sat across the table from her, and when they made eye contact, they had a silent conversation about how Y/N should grow the balls and actually talk to him. Of course Y/N refused, which earned her a kick to the shin in retaliation, which then caused her to let out a yelp of pain and made everyone look at her confused and worried.

“Sorry, hit my knee on the table,” she brushed it off, glaring at her best friend the moment everyone turned away and continued with their own conversations.

Being as slick as possible, Kalani directed her eyes to Harry when he wasn’t looking so Y/N could see her, before turning to AJ and talking to him about something completely irrelevant. Again, Y/N and Harry were stuck in this silence. She’s not exactly sure why she can’t just start a conversation, but he’s kind of intimidating and she’s afraid of embarrassing herself, especially in front of her family.

Pursing her lips and looking down to her lap, Y/N finally turned to give Harry her attention, noticing how he was staring into space, looking completely lost in this foreign setting. “So, uh, where exactly are you from?”

Harry was quick to turn his head to Y/N, waiting and waiting and waiting for the moment she would say something. “A small town in Cheshire. Northwest of London, if that helps.”

“That’s a pretty far trip to take alone,” she nods, licking her bottom lip before gently biting down on it. As much as she thinks of herself as an independent person, she’s also an extreme homebody and could never imagine going anywhere without anyone by her side, whether it be family or friends.

He merely shrugs in response, “M’better off alone.”

Y/N cocked her head to the side while looking at him, letting his words sizzle inside her mind as she tries to overanalyze him in the mere hours she’s known him. She turned her gaze down to her hands that were intertwined in her lap, mulling over her next words to say. She doesn’t know him, but she knows the feeling of being alone. And being alone, no matter how appealing it could sound, never works out in the end. People aren’t meant to live alone. It goes against the natural order of life, and just hearing him say he prefers being alone breaks her heart just the tiniest bit. “No one’s better off alone. Everyone needs someone eventually.”

Little does she know, is that she is his someone. Or, at least that’s what Harry’s hoping. He thinks he’s crazy for being so enthralled by someone so suddenly and so strongly, but Harry’s always been one to trust his gut. His plushie but toned gut was screaming at him that this girl is just meant to be in his life. Maybe meant to be his, but he won’t push his luck. “Guess we’ll have to wait an’ see.”

They both smiled softly at one another, a small blush creeping up Y/N’s cheeks for the umpteenth time that day. “I guess we will.”

❊ ❊

It had been a little over two weeks since qualification day. Her days hadn’t changed much in regards to her schedule; Waking up at the ass crack of dawn and heading straight into the water and staying in practically until the sun was set. But, there was one slight shift in her day, and that was the now familiar face of Harry popping in everyday, either physically or in her mind.

It was safe to say Harry was quickly adapting to the three friends, merging with them seamlessly; As if he had been part of this little group since he was a child. It’s not like any of them minded, especially AJ because he was happy to get another guy around. Their friend Nav wasn’t exactly a permanent part of their little group because he belonged to everyone and no one, but Harry stuck around them like glue and AJ was so grateful.

Y/N’s grateful because now she isn’t a third-wheel.

Harry and her aren’t exactly buddy-buddy, but it definitely helps having someone else around for movie night so Y/N isn’t stuck watching her best friend’s all cuddled up together and hearing the occasional kiss they would share.

Though, Harry has made it known time and time again that he really wants to be buddy-buddy with her. And Y/N’s not exactly sure why she won’t give him what he wants, but for some reason she loses all comprehensive skills and becomes a blubbering, nervous mess around Harry whenever he brings up his interest in her. So, she’s successfully avoided all buddy-buddy conversations with him by bringing up mundane things instead. Like, why she decided to paint her nails blue, or why she absolutely despises white socks.

She thought she was doing a pretty skillful job too. But, after the first two times she avoided giving a yes or no answer to going on a date with him, Harry purposely would ask her just to hear what other obscure distractions she could come up with. He loved hearing Y/N talk, and without her knowing, he was getting to know her piece by piece, inch by inch, and he was loving it.

Though, a guy’s ego can only take so many rejections before he gives up completely. And just when he was ready to call it quits and accept that she wasn’t interested in him like he was her, the unexpected happened.

Y/N agreed to a date.

Well, kind of.

It was time for the Hawaiian Pro. The official first event of the Vans Triple Crown. It was taking place at Ali’i Beach Park in Hale’iwa, one of the most intense surfing spots filled with waves of many different faces. Of course, this is when Y/N’s nerves really started to kick in. Qualification day isn’t anywhere near as filled with people as the actual events are, and her nerves have seemed to kick it into high gear. It doesn’t help that the Hawaiian Pro is when her life changed a year ago. She could hear people whispering about her, wondering if she’s going to wipe out again or if this time she’ll stay under the water. Her mind was already frenzied enough, but nothing completes the cycle like a panic attack and the embarrassment of many on-goers witnessing said panic attack.

She almost backed out. How is she meant to be the best when her body is afraid of taking its final breath? The tide was high and the waves showed no mercy. How is she meant to challenge that? How is she meant to control the water beneath her when she can’t even control her own thoughts?

It was getting to be too much for her. This entire time leading up to the Triple Crown she’s denied her fear and her anxiety, telling herself she’ll get over it. She’s been doing good all year, so what makes now any different? But it is very different. The calm atmosphere of her backyard is no match for the rambunctious setting of the Triple Crown. And she’s a fool for thinking differently.

So, she was panicking.

Y/N couldn’t even get up from her seat in her parent’s van because she was so shaky. Her father held her close, easing her back to reality and away from her tortuous mind. Of course, he offered to drive them back home and away from the competition, telling her again that she didn’t have to prove herself to anyone. But, she declined again. Because she needed to prove it to herself. She’s stronger than her mind lets on, and she needs to make sure she knows that.

When she slid off her board and sank her toes back into the warm sand after a very successful first round, landing her in the lead spot, she was finally able to breathe again.

People congratulated her on her comeback, astonished to see her doing better than ever before. Her parents embraced her with love and elation, so beyond happy to see her laughing and smiling and enjoying herself now that she’s progressing forward. Kalani of course is her number one supporter, practically jumping on her and screaming in her ear about how happy she is for her best friend.

Everyone was making their rounds hugging Y/N, and then it was Harry’s turn. They didn’t exactly embrace like the rest of them had, but he threw his arm over her shoulders and pulled her to his side, squeezing her to him softly before looking down at her and saying, “Absolutely wicked, love. Gotta teach me some of y’fancy moves.”

“You sure? They’re really only meant for the pros,” she teased, biting at her bottom lip to conceal her laughter as he scoffed.

“”Ey, no one likes a narcissist,” he shoved her shoulder softly, rolling his eyes as her laughter rang through his ears. “But, whaddya say? M’gonna need a good teacher if I wanna make it to the big leagues.”

Y/N simply shrugs without really thinking much into it, “Sure.” Her mind didn’t exactly process what she had agreed to until later that night, before she dozed off into her temporary slumber. Her eyes shot open and her body sat upright as an over dramatic gasp was inhaled into her lungs. Her mind had been all over the place with the competition that she didn’t realize that she had agreed to being alone with Harry for the first time since they'd met. Immediately she texted and called Kalani, to which she got laughed at in return.

“Kalani, this isn’t a laughing matter!”

A few miles away, Harry was snuggled into his bedsheets, a bright smile stretched across his face as he reveled in the idea that he finally was going to be alone with Y/N since the first time they’d met. His heart was jumping and his stomach was fluttering as he envisioned her pretty face behind his eyelids before he drifted off into his dream with her.

“It so is! C’mon, Y/N, what have you got to lose? You have the same interests, he’s funny, he’s hot, and he clearly is into you. Enjoy something outside of surfing for once.”

Enjoy something outside of surfing for once.

That’s the thought that stuck in her mind, lingering around as she finally fell asleep, and then when she woke up, and when she was eating breakfast; And doing her chores; And hanging out with Kalani; And eating dinner; And then falling asleep again. Y/N didn’t even realize she had spent so much of her past year focusing on her career and health that she hasn’t done much of anything else.

She’s so grateful to be alive, but she’s hardly given herself the chance to live again.

Before her accident, she was always up for adventure and was always the life of any party. After her accident, she hasn’t even been to a party. She hasn’t been in a relationship in years, she hasn’t gone on a date in a long time, and she can’t even remember the last time she’s had sex or kissed a guy. She’s been so focused on her redemption, that she can’t remember the last time she was genuinely happy.

Going on this date, but also not a date -- but also clearly a date -- with Harry just may provide her with that. And she owes it to herself, to her past self, that her accident isn’t going to shape her life anymore.

Plus, she really enjoys Harry’s company. And even if she doesn’t show it so bluntly like him, she really likes him too.

The next day, Y/N and Kalani had gone out shopping, enjoying a nice girls day out. They had bought a few new varieties of swimsuits (as if they didn’t have enough) and a few other types of clothes, got some lunch, and even found time to watch a movie. And they did all of this right up until the moment Y/N decided it was time to text Harry.

She wasn’t sure how to go about this, because she’s never really asked anyone on a date before, or followed up with plans (?) about a date. Kalani kept urging her to just rip the bandaid off and to get it over with, saying something along the lines of, “You’re not getting any younger. Plus, I think he’d slip right off his board at the sight of you in that new yellow suit you got.” It was just a simple bikini, but it showcased the majority of her skin that essentially left little to the imagination.

But, the thing is, whenever Y/N gets into the water around people, she can’t help but cover her torso with a wet-shirt, insecure of the imperfections that lined her skin. It’s rare she can bear to look at her skin, so she only assumes no one else would want to either. So, she’s not so sure he’ll fall off his board at the sight of her, but the thought is nice.

Y/N pulled out her phone and hovered over his contact for a good amount of time before Kalani grew impatient and snatched the phone from her friend’s hand. They wrestled around with each other to try and gain custody of the phone, but finally in the end Y/N was able to hold her phone tight in her hands before declaring, “Okay! Okay! I’m texting, I’m going.”

Kalani peaked over Y/N’s shoulder as she watched her type the allusive message to Harry, a proud smile carving over her lips as she watched her break down a barrier she had subconsciously put up. It isn’t by any means important to be in a relationship or to have a boyfriend, but Kalani knows deep down that Y/N was wishing to have that special connection only a relationship could provide -- a connection outside of the realm of friendships.

“There,” Y/N huffed, shoving the screen of her phone in her best friend’s face.

hii, if you’re still up to learn from a true professional, I’m available tonight :)

It wasn’t even ten seconds later that she got a reply.

Shit, I’ll be your best student, babe. I know a perfect spot, I’ll be at yours in an hour.

It was kind of amusing to Y/N that he said he knows a perfect spot, as if she hadn’t been living on this island all her life and practically knows it like that back of her hand. But, that miniscule thought was pushed to the very depths of her mind as panic coursed through her as she realized what she was getting herself into. She’s going on a date, not a date, but also a date with Harry, and a small hour wasn’t enough time to gain her composure.

Fuck.

❊ ❊

It’s no surprise to Y/N when Harry shows up to her house a minute early. She’s half convinced that he had been waiting outside of her house for the past fifteen minutes until he finally stepped up on to the porch of her house, knocking rapidly on the door. It wasn’t an emergent knock that caused some sort of panic, but it was a frantic knock that screamed ‘let’s get the show on the road.’

When she opened the door, both of their breaths were robbed from their lungs. Y/N essentially looked like she always did but something about her glowed differently to Harry; maybe it was because she’s his for the night. For his eyes only. Just him and her. He was awestruck.

Harry essentially looked like he always did but something about him radiated differently to Y/N. The same little smirk was nestled in its usual spot, but this one held a different meaning. It looked the same, but maybe it was different because it was just her and him tonight. He’s hers for the night. For her eyes only. Y/N was nervous.

Y/N left her board out on her porch so she wouldn’t have to walk around back when he got here, but she was silently wishing she didn’t so she’d get just a couple more seconds to get herself together. She just kept chanting, “It’s not a date!” in her head, in hopes it would make her feel better.

It didn’t.

Harry saw her board and tucked it under his left arm as he threw his right one over her shoulders guiding her his mode of transportation. It also wasn’t a surprise to Y/N to see Harry rolling up in a light yellow Jeep; the top down and the doors off, typical of any surfer dude, no matter where they originate.

“Her name’s Betty,” he smiled, walking around the back and giving her a quick tap on her rear end before stepping up to straddle Y/N’s board safely and securely.

Sliding through the empty passenger door to take her seat, Y/N was greeted by a familiar smell, a smell she could only associate with Harry. And even if she could never admit it, she loved it a lot. It was mouth-watering and intoxicating, and simply put, it was Harry. Even with the open atmosphere of the car, it was still drenched in this specific smell, and Y/N can’t help but giggle at the image of Harry spritzing whatever cologne into the car before arriving at her house.

A few moments later, Harry slid into the driver side, placing the sunglasses that were sitting on the dash over his eyes, shoving the key into the ignition and starting them on their journey to whatever beach he had envisioned. On the ride there, over the course of a few right turns and lefts and different exits on the highway, Y/N surprisingly had no idea where they were going. Did she think maybe he was gonna murder her? A bit. But, she felt comfortable around Harry. So, she felt it in her gut that she was going to come out alive from this… event.

When they got to the beach, it was about thirty minutes from Y/N’s house, and she had no idea where they were. They had to walk a short path to meet sand and ocean, but once they made it past the clearing, Y/N was in awe of the site ahead of her. People could think that seeing the ocean every day ruins the peaceful and magical aura surrounding it. But, Y/N never gets sick of greeting it. The sun was beginning to set, and the water was glowing with a yellow-pink hue by the horizon that blended into a bright blue by the shore. The cliff sides around them guarded the little alcove, feeding into the tranquil atmosphere.

“How did you find this place?” Y/N wondered as she kicked off her sandals, and shimmied her shorts down her legs before kicking them over her sandals. The yellow bottom of her bikini was visible, and she turned her head just as Harry took a large gulp at the sight of her in front of him; Just for him. Her blue wet-shirt stayed on though.

It piqued Harry’s interest as to why she never took off her shirt. He understood for the competitions, but even when it was just a casual outing, just him and her, or them and their friends, she always kept it on. It wasn’t his place to ask, but he wished she would’ve broken this barrier down just this once. Just for him. “Tha’s a secret for me to know and you to maybe find out.”

Y/N let out a giggle - why? she didn’t know - and turned her attention back to the boy that brought her here, her eyes nearly popping out of her head as she caught Harry taking off his white t-shirt, now only clad in his little pink shorts next to his little pink board. His skin looked extra dewy, and his tattoos seemed to glint under the setting sun. Before she could devour him with her eyes, she picked up her board and took it with her, running down to the water and shouting, “C’mon slow-poke, gotta get in the water before the sun sets!”

It wasn’t a surprise to Y/N that this didn’t keep on track of a teaching lesson. Harry doesn’t need to be taught, he’s amazing on his own. He pulled off his own tricks that Y/N didn’t even know the name of, and she was asking him to let her in on his little secrets. He locked his lips in return, throwing the imaginary key somewhere over his shoulder, “Y’think I’m g’na tell you? I’m far too narcissistic to let you beat me at my own game.”

“Who said I’m gonna beat you?”

“Have you met you?”

There’s a reason Y/N’s name circulates throughout people’s brains, why her name is common in any Hawaiian household, why Harry was itching to meet her. She’s good at what she does. Insanely good that it’s kind of concerning. Not everyone can come back from a life-altering experience, but Y/N took those stereotypes and crushed them beneath the tail of her infamous yellow surfboard. She reveled in the doubts and came back stronger than ever. Of course she would beat him at his own game. She’s the only one who could.

There wasn’t any telling how long they had been riding wave after wave, in the water with no one else but just each other. But, the sun almost halfway past the horizon line was a good giveaway. They were probably nearing the two hour mark, and they knew they couldn’t stay out here all night, but Jesus, how they wished they could. Y/N wasn’t expecting to be so content, thinking this would be some strange, awkward, uncomfortable time they would want to forget about the moment they left each other’s sides.

It’s the opposite.

Just for him. Just for her.

They both laid on their boards, limbs sprawled out and dangling into the water as their bodies shut down in exhaustion. Y/N can’t remember the last time she went so long without taking at least a ten minute break. Her body was most definitely not used to it as she felt her back mold into her little yellow board, accepting the relaxation. When she finally opened her eyes back up, she turned her head to the side, admiring Harry’s profile as his arms were pulled over his head, the skin of his torso being stretched, which also stretched the ink that adorned him.

Y/N got lost in the mirage that is Harry, that she didn’t even realize he had turned his head and caught her ogling. It wasn’t until he cleared his throat that her eyes snapped to his, heat traveling up through her body and rushing to her cheeks. “M’eyes are up here, love.”

“Uh- right. Yeah, I know.”

“Cool. Hey d’y’wanna play twenty questions?” He asked, sitting up to straddle his board and paddling himself around so he was facing her.

Y/N squinted her eyes, “Are we children?”

“I mean, I guess not. Doesn’t stop my five year old humor though,” he smiled, kicking his foot up to splash her with an inkling of water as his childlike, petty comeback. “You ask first.”

Y/N pushed her hand through the water to spray him in an ounce of sea salt before turning her head back to the sky, contemplating her first question. “Mm… favorite color?” She already knew the answer.

“And you asked me if we’re children? C’mon, darling, know you wanna know more than tha’. Pink. What was your first impression of me?” He wiggled his eyebrows, even though she couldn’t see his face. This has been one of those things that’s been nagging at the back of his mind ever since they first met. Their first encounter wasn’t awkward per-se, but the fleeting moment of introduction wasn’t exactly one worth remembering either. But, Harry was always going to remember it. And depending on Y/N’s answer, he hopes she will too.

At this, she turned her head back to Harry, hand covering her eyes as the sun glared at them over the reflective water. It was a sight to behold, seeing Harry glow in the golden hour light. “Intimidating. But, also unique,” she began, moving to sit herself up and paddle her board around so she was now facing him. “You remind me of a singular cloud in an otherwise clear sky. You’re not meant to be there, yet you’re not out of place.”

Harry sat for a moment, staring. Completely in awe. Head over heels. Never would’ve guessed those words to be the ones tumbling from her lips. It was the way she didn’t hesitate in her sentence, as if those words had been formulated a while ago and just now was she able to spew it from her wordbank. Just for him. “Fuck, that was beautiful. Your turn.”

“Do you really think you’re better off alone?”

Harry pursed his lips, looking off into the distance for a brief moment before shrugging, “I do. But, I don’t. If it comes down to going back to my family and friends from home or being alone, I’ll choose being alone.” And he wanted to sprinkle in the little bonus that he doesn’t feel alone when he’s around her, but something tells him that’ll just turn her away. “What’re you so afraid of?”

It’s a brash question Y/N wasn’t expecting to be thrown at her so suddenly. She has a mix of answers, and there’s a specific one flashing in her mind like a bright, neon yellow sign, but she’s not certain how comfortable she is with telling him yet. Though, she notices that whatever question she could throw his way, he’d answer it truthfully, not scared of opening himself up, just for her. She wants to be brave like that, and maybe she can be, but she’s not sure how.

It comes as a surprise to her when she does say, “I’m scared of going through everything that happened last year all over again. Everyone’s afraid of dying, or at least most people are, but experiencing death… there’s really no coming back from that. ”

“Experiencing it?” He looks at her wide-eyed.

“What, you haven’t heard of what happened last year?” She looks at him, eyebrows scrunched.

“Only know you had some accident. No offense, but I didn’t really bother myself with reading the fine print,” he shrugs, running his pruney fingers through his salted hair. He didn’t know if he wanted to read it, especially not with the sudden news that apparently this very alive, lively girl in front of him… died? He doesn’t think he could stomach reading about that.

Y/N hasn’t met a single person who hasn’t heard about what happened to her. Or at least the details of it. In reality she doubts anyone outside of Hawaii knows of her existence, but in her world it was the biggest news to affect the state in a while -- aside from, like, actual serious matters, her accident was up there on the news.

She evades his second question though, not wanting to cough up the traumatic details of her past; not yet at least. “Well, it’s my turn anyway. Why surfing?”

“I could just look it up, but I get it; you’ll tell me when you’re ready,” he gave her a playful look, pursing his lips while giving her a pointed stare. “It’s different. England isn’t known for surfing. It’s known for rain and football. But, with every possible detail of m’life, I wanted to make sure I was different. My dad wanted me to become a professional footy player, so I said no. M’mum wanted me to go and get a degree and a real job. I didn’t want that. So, I turned to surfing,” he swung his arms around, gesturing to the vast sea and the board below him.

“Plus, it’s given me an excuse to leave home and come here. And y’know, so I could meet you.”

Y/N felt a small blush creep up her skin again, her eyes shooting down to her lap and her feet that were distorted under the water. Harry’s infatuation with the girl isn’t a secret, but anytime he purposely makes it known, it’s like a little secret that she’s unsure if she’s supposed to know or not. “Meet me?”

Harry kicked his foot up again so water would splash at her. “Uh-uh, my turn,” he laughed, shaking his head. He knew she thought she was slick at the way she bit her lip, containing her laughter. If she wants to play by the rules of the nonsensical game, then so will he. “Sunrise or sunset?”

“Sunset. Favorite song?” She wanted to reel back from the serious talk for a moment.

“Too many to choose from. Favorite movie?” He wanted to know every nitty-gritty detail about her.

She pondered for a moment, “Mamma Mia.”

“No shit! Me too!” His mouth dropped in shock, his hand flying up to his chest.

“Really?”

“No,” he shook his head, immediately blocking the massive splash he sensed coming.

Y/N rolled her eyes, huffing at him whilst crossing her arms over her torso, “Are you always so insufferable?”

“S’my middle name, babe. You hungry?” He laid himself down on his board on his belly, paddling himself to face the beach, ready to make a head start for the beach. Y/N hummed a response, following in suit and settling her stomach against the belly of the board and pushing herself to land. “Cool, let’s go get something to eat then I’ll take you home.”

Y/N’s legs felt weak, yet appreciative back on the sand. It felt like she was walking on Jell-O as she went to pick up her towel and clothes. Looking down to her shirt, she knew it was out of the question to let him see her take it off. And she could turn her back so he wouldn’t see her front -- whether or not it’s clad in a bikini top -- but even then her heart raced at the thought. She held her t-shirt in her hands and thought it over for a moment before blurting, “Could you turn around please?”

Harry looked up from checking his phone quickly, tilting his head in confusion before looking down to the shirt in her hands. The dots are connected and the bright neon pink sign in his head is telling him to listen to her, and not to question it. So, he doesn’t. Just for her. It’s still unbeknownst to Harry why she never takes her shirt off, but he knows better than to think with his dick, and accepts her wishes, turning his back to her.

Y/N lets out a small breath of relief, grateful he didn’t question her on it. She’s quick to rip off her shirt and pat dry her wet skin before hastily throwing on her dry one, giving Harry the OK to turn back around.

“Sorry, I just… I’m not comfortable with anyone seeing my, uh, my scar,” she mumbles, nervously moving her hair from one shoulder over to the other. Harry shrugs in response, picking his board up from the ground and wrapping his arm around her shoulder as they began their walk back to his car.

“You don’ have to explain yourself to me, babe,” he smiled down at her, squeezing her to his side softly.

Y/N looked up at him, and she’s sure that if she could see herself right now, her eyes would be twinkling in delight, with adoration. Just for him. “Thank you.”

They didn’t say anything else for a few minutes, walking the distance to his lonesome Jeep in peace. The silence gave Y/N time to think and to mull over all of the gushy feelings she was feeling inside about the guy beside her. She had no reason not to like him, realizing it was only fear that was pushing her away. But, this night displayed a soft side to Harry that she fell head over heels for. His smooth, easy-going approach to life, mixed in with respect for her, and a hint of witty humor was enough to tell her how she truly feels about him. And she’s scared, not because she’s afraid, but because she’s not.

Y/N can find herself easily opening up to Harry quicker than she has anyone else because she trusts him. She can just tell he’s got nothing to hide, so in-turn she wants to be the same. She doesn’t want to cower away, but revel in happiness. Because she deserves it.

Harry quickly secured the boards back into their previous spots before sliding into the driver side and whisking them away from their little getaway. The wind swept through their hair and chilled their still slightly wet skin, causing goosebumps to trail up Y/N’s arm as chills raked through her body. This time around in the car they both were more laid back, not singing along to the songs playing on the radio but rather just listening and taking in the blissful atmosphere they’ve created.

There’s been one question dancing across her mind though ever since he brought up the little game of twenty questions. It was the first one to pop up in her mind when she was thinking of something juicy to ask. She didn’t want to ask it though, in fear of what his answer would be. But, now she’s not afraid. She’s curious though.

“Is this a date?” She queried, turning the volume of the radio down a bit so he could hear her and vice versa.

Harry glanced at her through his peripheral, one eyebrow cocking up on his forehead, “Is the sky blue?”

“I mean, right now it’s like orange-blue,” she retorted, looking at the newly sun-ridden sky that blended shades of orange into the usual night blue.

“Brainiac. There’s your answer. It’s however you want to look at it,” he digressed, reaching over to pat her thigh - in more of a friendly manner rather than sensual.

She appreciated his answer, absolutely adoring the fact that he wasn’t putting pressure on her about anything. It was hard to comprehend just how nice he truly is, and how someone could be so perfect. She couldn’t see a flaw in his looks or his personality or his morals, and all she could wonder was how someone like him could possibly like someone like her. “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone like you, Harry.”

He side glanced at her again, this time raising both of his eyebrows in puzzlement, “I’ll take tha’ as a good thing?”

“It’s good. It’s… it’s a good thing.”

❊ ❊

The two of them had discussed where they wanted to go, neither of them wanting to decide and going back and forth with one another, saying, “No, you decide,” “No you.”

Y/N was never good at decisions, especially mundane ones like where to eat. She always lets Kalani decide because she could eat anything, and it’s her friend that’s the picky one. But, Harry is the same way. Whatever is put in front of him, he could probably eat (except for pickles, he absolutely hates pickles).

They settled for pizza. And it was going to be Harry’s first time trying a slice of Hawaiian.

Y/N hates Hawaiian slices, finding the sweetness of the pineapple and the savor of the ham unsettling atop her pizza. It sends her taste buds into shock and her mind into a meltdown. But, she insisted he try it, because how could someone be in Hawaii and not try its state-named slice?

They sat at their little table in the corner of the restaurant that was alongside a window, giggling to themselves as they played a little game of eye-spy, waiting for their food. For some odd reason, Harry was really good at this game, always picking the hardest of objects to point out, always stumping a frustrated Y/N.

“You’re cheating.”

“How the fuck am I cheating?”

“Dunno, you just are.”

And in retaliation to her accusation, Harry pointed to her shirt, stating she got a little soda on it, causing her to look down to her chest and see nothing but finger as he flicked her nose. “Too easy. Sore loser.”

Y/N huffed, sticking her tongue out at him. The playful banter between them was the best part of their days lately. Before Y/N even realized her feelings for Harry, she always looked forward to what they would bicker about -- in a friendly matter of course. Now, she constitutes that to just wanting to see him because she really enjoys his company, and him.

It’s been a long time since she’s felt this way about anyone, and she’s sort of glad she gets to feel this way about Harry. He’s an enigma, but a good one. She’s totally transfixed by him and she never wants this euphoria to end. He radiates this bright and bubbly energy that lifts her mood whenever she’s around him, and she’s afraid of losing that. But, she chooses not to dwell on the what-if, instead completely basking in the present and his gooey aura of happiness.

When the food finally came out, they both were quick to stuff their faces, their stomachs practically turning inside-out from how hungry they were. It came to no surprise to Harry that he was absolutely in love with this Hawaiian slice, already looking forward to ordering two more.

Y/N looked at him a tad worried. He was scoffing down three slices as if there were no tomorrow, all within a matter of two minutes. She was slightly worried he was going to reach over and take her dinner, because that’s how hungry he seemed to be. But, he should know better than to get between Y/N and her food. Like the one time he tried to take some of her fries, to which she punched him in the shoulder and then took them back.

“Hey, y’gonna eat that?” He points to her not yet touched slice of pizza, earning a glare that could kill in response. “Cool, you are, just making sure. Can’t let precious food go t’waste. It’s my turn for a question right?”

Y/N thinks back for a second to determine if he’s right or not, remembering she did ask a question last. She nodded her head before biting into her little piece of heaven.

“Was it hard getting back in the water?”

She brought her napkin up to her mouth to wipe away the drop of sauce she felt on her cheek, mulling over her answer. “Kinda. I knew I had to eventually because it’s all I know, it was just a matter of when. My parents were terrified, and I mean I was too but I can’t let that dictate my future. I love surfing and nothing is going to take that away from me.”

Not even something as horrifying as death could take her away from her true love. Not until she’s truly six-feet under, riding silver waves in the silver palace.

“Do you think you’re going to stay here? In Hawaii?” Y/N wondered, taking a sip of her Coke.

“Got nowhere else to be,” he shrugged, mindlessly tapping his fingers on the table in an arrhythmic pattern. “Home is where the heart is, right? Well, think mine’s here right now.” Across from her. Just for her.

Home is where the heart is.

“Does it count if my heart isn’t mine?”

Last year, Y/N was going about her day like she always did. She was fine, in tip-top shape just like she had been for the past twenty years of her life. The bright sun was out and shining over all of the surfers and onlookers, and it seemed just like every other regular day. She was paddling out into the water, and the perfect, golden first wave was approaching her. She pushed herself up onto her feet, balancing her body, in tune with the wave, executing a nearly perfect opener. Then, she felt her chest tighten and her body suddenly felt weak. Breathing rapidly grew difficult, causing her to instantly panic. She fell off her board, plummeting into the water, trying to gasp for air but choking on the sea that swimmed down her throat.

Feeling herself sink as her chest was on fire was the last she remembered. The baby blue sky blended into black and that was it. Her life was over.

Kalani was the one who went in after her, screaming for help as her best friend was blue in the face and not moving.

Y/N suffered a heart attack. Apparently, she had a condition called hypertrophic cardiomyopathy, that went unnoticed all her life. On this day, her heart had thickened extensively, making it difficult to pump blood to the rest of her body. The strain on her heart caused it to give out, right when she was feeling the high of riding a solid wave. She was pronounced dead for a total of forty-five seconds before EMT could revive her. Supposedly she’s lucky to be alive, because if not treated basically instantly, there’s a slim chance of survival. But, she was able to stick it out until the hospital.

Her heart was in brutal shape, so she was sent to the top of a donor waiting list. Y/N and her family are forever grateful for the team of doctors and nurses that stuck by her side, knowing she wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for them. Or her sheer luck.

Y/N felt a little crazy for feeling so comfortable spilling all of this information so suddenly to Harry, but at the same time she didn’t. And the best part about it is that none of it seems to freak Harry out. Nothing about who she is or how she is scares him. And that’s what makes her feel so comfortable. “My scar, it’s from a heart transplant. I had a heart condition all my life apparently. Then suddenly one day, it couldn’t handle it anymore, so it gave out. A girl named Shauna’s heart is keeping me alive right now.”

Harry didn’t blink for a whole minute.

He opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water, trying to come up with something, anything to say to the girl across from him. But, he had nothing. He didn’t know what to say.

His silence was a little concerning to Y/N, making her wish she could just be swallowed whole by the ground below her. Was it too soon to drop the HT bomb? He was bound to find out eventually, and she figured it was best to rip the bandaid off on her own time rather than someone else telling him or him looking it up on Google.

She’s kicking herself over it.

Harry cleared his throat, taking a sip of his water before licking his lips and leaning back in his chair. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

Y/N merely shrugged, “Don’t be. Shit happens. Who knows, if it never happened we may not be here now.”

Harry raised his eyebrows, his signature small smirk back on his face in its usual spot. He raised his glass, leaning it forward a bit toward her, stating, “Cheers to that, babe.” She raised her own glass and clinked it against his, a smile on her lips as she sucked up the remaining bit of her soda through her straw. She’s happy he didn’t turn and run away.

Cheers to that, babe.

By the time they both filled their guts to the point of feeling overstuffed, mindlessly chatting and spending time together, it was already past ten o’clock. The time had passed them by like it was nothing, but they weren’t necessarily complaining. The older couple next to them were though. Y/N had to pull Harry out of the restaurant before he bit the woman’s head off for how rude she was. That’s when they knew it was time to skedaddle.

Then they just drove around for another hour before Harry figured it was time to bring her home, much to his dismay. But, when her head lolled against the passenger seat headrest and her eyes would softly shut in exhaustion. He wanted desperately to reach over and tuck the loose strand of hair that fell out of her ponytail, behind her ear. He wanted to reach over and place his hand on her thigh as they drove down the highway, softly squeezing her skin before teasingly inching up towards her hidden gem.

Is it too soon to be in love?

It was like a slap in the face when Harry parked in front of her house. Reality stuck its nose into their little wonderland bubble, and unfortunately, they couldn’t push it back out.

Harry hopped out of his seat, unfastening her board from the trunk and tucking it under his arm as they walked side-by-side to her front door. He gently placed it down where he had initially found it earlier on, tucking his lips into his mouth as he stuck his hands in his pockets.

“I uh… I guess this is it. I had a really ni-”

“I’ve got one more question before you leave me,” he interrupted her little speech, stepping impossibly closer to her, barricading her between him and the banister on her porch. It wasn’t hard to notice the long stares at her shiny lips that glinted in the dull yellow glow of the light by the door. He purposely took extra time to rake over the features of her face before finally meeting her eyes.

Y/N swallowed nothing but air as she softly bit at her bottom lip, “Yeah?”

She already knew his question.

“Can I kiss you?”

He already knew her answer.

Y/N slyly looked at him, bringing her hands up, a bit hesitant to rest on his shoulders. “I thought this wasn’t a date.”

“Sky’s blue.” Y/N looks up at the sky and notices it’s dark blue hue, twinkling stars layers on top, surrounding the fullest, brightest moon. It was a beautiful sky, perfect to share a first kiss under.

He leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers as his hands came up to her hips. Her eyes fluttered shut, waiting for the climactic moment to overcome them, the air of the night chilling up her spine.

But, then she felt fiery, red hot as their lips locked together in a soft kiss. It was as soft as they felt towards one another. This giddy, slow paced, admiring kiss that had their insides melting but their hearts pounding. This kiss is exactly how Y/N images Harry. A pale yellow that’s not harsh on the eyes, that resonates happiness. Harry imagines it as a hot pink, one that takes his breath away and captures his mind.

It wasn’t long before it turned heated, Harry’s tongue sweeping into her mouth, and one of his hands travelling further south to grab hold of the flesh of her behind. Y/N let out a soft moan into his mouth as her hands tangled into his mound of curls, tugging softly on his roots.

Then the disturbing image of either one of her parents opening the front door at any moment flashed across her eyes, causing her to pull back, kissing his bottom lip softly before trailing her thumb over the swollen skin and opening her eyes to look into his gaudy, green ones.

The sounds of their breaths mingled together as tired smiles adorned their faces, little giggles leaving each of their mouths as they basked in what just happened. All Harry could think was, ‘It’s about damn time.’ All Y/N could think was, ‘Why did I ever push him away?’

“My turn,” she spoke after a few moments, standing up straighter and fixing her shirt around her body. “Pick me up tomorrow?”

A wide, shit-eating grin spread out across Harry’s face as he ran his hand through his mangled curls. “Sunrise. If y’not in this exact spot in the morning, m’knocking the door down and dragging you out by y’hair.” He hopped down off the porch, completely skipping the steps as the adrenaline of their first kiss kicked into his system.

“Sunrise,” she agreed.

He hopped back into the driver’s side of his Jeep, throwing his hand up in a goodbye wave as he sped away, already counting down the seconds until he would see his golden ray of bright and bubbly sunshine again. He’s not so sure if he’ll be able to fall asleep.

Y/N didn’t have that same problem. The moment she landed on her bed, her eyes shut faster than the speed of light, her last conscious thought being of Harry. Her smile never leaving her face.

❊ ❊

Meeting at sunrise had become part of their routine. Not always to surf, but just to be together. Sometimes they surfed at their little alcove, other times they would watch the sun from her backyard, snuggled up in blankets on the beach. Or, they would surf, get breakfast, then fall back asleep in his bed until a more decent hour of morning.

But, their day always began at sunrise. It would be the equivalent to say that it also ended at sunset, but sunset was always too soon to part ways.

This wasn’t an everyday occurrence, mostly at random. Except for Sundays. Sundays are specifically their day, as per request of Harry. How could he be in love with a girl that coined yellow as her color, that had a smile as bright as the huge burning star, that claimed golden hour was prime sun time, and not deem Sunday as their day? He didn’t put any second thought into it.

Despite their sort of fast paced first date, they’ve been taking things slow, truly getting used to the feel of one another over the course of the next couple of months. It wasn’t until a month later that Harry popped the question, officially making Y/N his forever buddy-buddy. Well, not necessarily forever, but they both know it’s basically forever.

Harry never wants to be alone again.

It wasn’t until the night after they became official that Y/N finally took her shirt off in front of him. She was going through one of her episodes, and Harry was the only one around who could help her. He managed to calm her down and bring her inside her house - that was empty because her parents had gone out for the night - and get her to the bathroom so she could take a shower.

Initially, he was going to let her get in by herself, knowing her boundaries in regards to her body and not seeing it. But, when he saw how worn down she looked, he whispered words of reassurance in her ear, asking her permission to help get her in the shower. He wasn’t thinking with his dick, he just wanted to help the girl that didn’t know how to help herself.

Y/N looked him in the eyes, nibbling softly on her bottom lip before averting her attention to her chest for a few moments. She trusts him, and if they’re bound to work out, she needs him to be comfortable with seeing all aspects of her both mentally and physically. Which includes her scar.

So, she nods her head in agreement.

She lifted her arms and allowed him to remove her shirt, immediately feeling self-conscious. She couldn’t look him in the eyes as she stepped out of her shorts and underwear, going into the shower to avoid any lingering stares. Harry was quick to follow behind her, shutting the curtain after him. That’s when Y/N turned around and completely broke down, the tears that have been building behind her eyes finally pouring out. Harry wrapped her in his arms, letting her cry her eyes out for however long she needed.

When she stopped, Harry washed her hair, washed her body, washed away her bad thoughts, then washed himself as fast as he could so he could get her into her bed for the night. She snuggled up to his side, enjoying the warmness of his body that contrasted her cool ones.

That night when her parents came home, they spotted Harry’s Jeep in front of their house. Though when the house was eerily quiet, and found the door to her bedroom slightly ajar, they peeked inside and saw the two of them fast asleep. Parents usually would get angry at the sight of their child in bed with someone of a different gender, but not Y/N’s parents.

Over the last two months, they saw their daughter break back out of her shell, slowly returning to her former self, and all because of Harry. They saw how happy she became whenever he was around, or they’d overheard happy she was when just talking about him to Kalani. How could they ever get angry at the fact that Y/N was happy?

With the blossoming of their relationship taking place at the same time as the Vans Triple Crown, word got around fast and soon enough they were the star couple leading the ranks in their respective divisions. The world -- or really the surfing world, because no one really pays attention to professional surfers, was in awe of them. They were the hype of the news, of the town, of the state. Rightfully so, because they’re awfully cute.

It came as no surprise to everyone when the two were crowned the champions. The press went wild with this one, stating there was some scam happening behind the scenes, because what were the odds that this new star couple could both win? Or, how could Harry, a newbie, shoot his way up to the top in just one year? Or, how could Y/N dominate with her physical ailments?

There wasn’t a hoax and there wasn’t any cheating. They both were just that good.

The day of the final competition, they may have worked just a little harder to land the championship title. Harry had picked Y/N up and they traveled to their secret hideaway bright and early in the morning. After being out at a party the night before, the two were in no shape to get in the water already, opting to snooze under the shade of a cliff on the beach for a little while.

They didn’t sleep for very long before they got wrapped up in one another, indulging in a morning session of intimate love. They slept for maybe an hour before Y/N was ready to get her swim on, but Harry was the biggest sack of lazy mush that morning. He didn’t want to get up for nothing. He was laying down on his surfboard, completely comfortable under the shade. Y/N tried tugging on his arms to get him up, but he wouldn’t budge, a half-sleepy and dazed smile on his lips.

At one point he tugged her back, causing her to land on his lap, legs straddling his hips as her face crashed into his chest. His arms wrapped around her back, securing him to her as he said, “See? Isn’t this so much better than physical activity?”

“C’mon tubby, we got shit to do,” Y/N giggled, but Harry just held onto her tighter and nuzzled his cheek to the top of her head.

He hummed, “S’comfortable here.”

Y/N didn’t know what else to do, so the only maneuver left was bribery. Harry’s no different than any guy in the sense that once sex is brought into the mix, his ears perk up and his dick stiffens. So, Y/N was going to use that to her advantage. “If you get up, you can fuck me all night tonight.”

Harry was quick to sit up, her still in his lap, eyes squinted in suspicion. Y/N bit her lip to refrain from laughing, but she was mentally patting herself on the back. His hands shifted down her back to grab onto the flash of her behind, pulling her center closer to his and building up a bit of friction. “How about right now and tonight?”

“I can’t be exhausted for today, H,” Y/N rolled her eyes, moving to get herself off his lap, but he kept her grounded.

“You don’t ‘ave to get in the water now. You’ve practiced, you’re prepared, you got this. The championship is practically in your hands already,” he disclosed, peppering kisses up the side of her neck, a few across her jawline, and then landing on her lips.

Even if that may be true, she doesn’t want that to stop her from putting effort and time into winning. “Harry…” she started, getting lost in the feel of his lips suckling a lovebite right in the crook of her neck, her most sweet spot. He lifted his hips up slightly, pushing against her heat, eliciting the smallest moan from her mouth.

“Bet y’soaking your suit. Can I see?”

They only have a limited amount of time before they need to get to the Northshore at Ehukai Beach Park for the competition. It was about a forty-five minute drive alone. But, Harry’s lips and fingers were way too persuasive, so Y/N nodded her head.

“Good girl.”

He lifted her up so her back was now against the belly of his pink board, her legs immediately wrapped around his broad shoulders as he placed a chaste kiss to her clothed core. She whined as he hooked his fingers into her bikini bottoms, dragging them tortuously slow down her legs. His eyes immediately attracted themselves to her glistening slit, her wetness practically inviting him in. “So fucking pretty, baby.”

Harry’s hands pushed her legs as far apart as they would go, licking a fat stripe up from her little hole to her sensitive clit. Y/N threw her head back as he focused his attention on her clit, swirling his tongue around the little bud before sucking it into his mouth. She was a whimpering mess, but that earned her a smack on the ass and a first warning from Harry.

“No one’s around. Let me hear you loud and clear,” he gave her a pointed look, keeping their eye contact as he went a little further south, pushing the tip of his tongue into her cunt. Y/N tried closing her legs around his head but Harry just pushed them open further, keeping a firm grip on her thighs that were bound to leave bruises. Bruises just for her.

Her jaw fell slack, moans tumbling past her pink lips louder and louder. Her nails dug into his shoulders, most likely leaving scratches he’ll find later when they’re stinging in the shower. Just for him.

Y/N was growing restless as he inserted his middle and ring finger inside of her, pushing and pulling them at an intense pace that caused her toes to curl in the sand by his hips. When he managed to push his index finger in alongside the other two, Y/N began to see stars at the stretch of her walls.

“So tight f’me. Imagine it was my cock instead. Would feel so good and full, but you’d be too exhausted for later, hm?” He cooed, letting her adjust to the extra digit inside of her before fucking her harder and faster than before. He kissed up her tummy that was visible from under her shirt before landing his forehead against hers.

His free hand grabbed a hold of her jaw, making her face him which caused her eyes to open up quickly, locking eye contact with one another. “S’a shame. M’so hard, like a fucking rock. But you’ll be too tired.”

Teasingly, Y/N nodded her head in agreement, earning a hard glare from her lover. At this, he stopped the movement of his fingers, slowly pulling them out of her. Y/N’s mouth opened wide, her eyebrows scrunching in confusion as Harry sucked his fingers past his lips, indulging in her sweetness that tasted like a little sliver of heaven.

“Wh-wha…?”

“Close y’mouth, Y/N. Gonna catch flies,” he smirked, reaching over for her bikini bottoms and sliding them back up her legs until they were nestled against her soaking wet, throbbing pussy. “Said it y’self. Can’t be exhausted for the finale today, gotta be quick on your feet and coasting the gnarliest waves. C’mon slow poke, gotta get some practice in.”

So, Y/N was pissed off to say the least. And because of this, she was extra determined to push herself as far as she could to come out on top today. Harry on the other hand, well he was just mad that he had an insane hard-on that his own girlfriend didn’t want to tend to. He should’ve expected his little stunt wouldn’t go over nicely, but the look on her face when he stopped was absolutely priceless.

When it was announced that Y/N and Harry had won in their divisions everyone was beyond elated at the news, cheers and hugs and kisses spread all around the group. Though when it was their turn to congratulate each other, they looked at each other, small smiles on their faces before they turned to make conversation with someone else. That didn’t stop them from reaching for one another though, slyly interlocking their hands together.

They were whisked away quickly for pictures, holding their trophies high in the air, the biggest smiles on their faces. Y/N’s parents were cheering them on, more specifically her because they were so proud she was able to take her life back. Y/N could cry at the sight of her mother being a blubbering mess, and her dad’s admiration sparkling across his eyes. Though, with the support of her family, Y/N’s mind couldn’t help but wonder about Harry’s family, and how they couldn’t support their son with what he loved.

With this, Y/N squeezed his hand harder, and despite the cameras around them, she leaned up on her tiptoes and placed a kiss to his lips, the clicks of the cameras and the chatter of the crowd increasing. But, neither of them cared as they looked at one another, full of love.

Because that’s what this was. Love.

It didn’t matter that they had only met a little over three months ago, only dating for two months. They were in love. And that’s all that mattered.

Going out to dinner that night, they hardly left each other’s sides. They were being that obnoxious clingy couple that no one likes being around, but they didn’t care. Because they both knew they were in love. An unspoken love that didn’t have to be announced because the whole world knew, and so did they.

“Cheers to the love birds! And for the love of God, could you stop looking at each other like that,” AJ gagged, causing everyone to laugh before they clinked glasses.

When they left the restaurant, Harry and Y/N hopped into Betty, driving around for a little while before they decided to stay at his for the night. It was when the wind was blowing in her hair again, the moon shining above them and shining through her hair, his hand gently on her thigh, squeezing softly in contrast to that morning, that Harry truly felt it. This love that he has for this girl. Love that’s meant just for her. Her, and only her.

This gushy feeling was put on hold for a little while though the moment they walked through the door of his apartment. Y/N was bent over the arm of his living room couch, her one leg bent and on the armrest beside her while the other was trying its best to keep her steady on the ground. Harry’s fist was wrapped up in her hair, proving to make it more difficult for her to keep her balance. Though she wouldn’t want it any other way.

“What’s the matter, babe? You said I could fuck you all night.” Harry’s hot breath coated the shell of her ear, “Y’tired?”

She gasped at a particularly hard thrust that felt like it had hit against her cervix, trying to get the word No out in between her moans and whimpers.

“Hope not. Had me aching all day for your tiny cunt. M’gonna need a few hours to really appreciate it.” She could feel his menacing smirk against her skin as he again thrusted so far deep inside of her, her one leg gave out. If it wasn’t for Harry holding her up, she would’ve fell right over, too weak to even try and get back up.

They went twice on the couch before Harry helped her get to the shower, where they did it again. And then when they finally cleaned themselves, they got into bed, where they did it again, but this one could be classified under love-making. It was slow and sensual and sweet, just like them. Harry paid extra attention to her scar, trailing down the tissue with soft kisses as they softly climaxed together.

It was a little past midnight at this point, and they were both extremely tired. Y/N was on the brink of dozing off into dreamland before Harry interrupted her exhaustion.

“We never finished our game of twenty questions, did we?” He murmured, pushing a strand of her hair behind her ear.

Y/N lazily opened her eyes, shaking her head, “Don’t believe so.”

“Think it’s my turn,” he hummed. “Do you love me?”

There was silence for a brief couple of seconds, making Harry think Y/N had dozed off before answering his question. But, Y/N just needed those seconds to collect her mushed thoughts inside of her mushy brain before giving him a coherent and valid response.

“Yeah. I do.”

Harry smiled, probably the biggest he’s ever smiled, leaning down and taking hold of her face and smashing their lips together in a ceremonious kiss.

“Sick. Ditto, Sunshine.”

#it would mean so much if you tell me what you thought #harry styles one shot #harry styles au #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles writing #harry styles #one direction fanfiction

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omkarahillss · 3 years ago

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Guide to Herbal Remedies & Magic with Practical Recipes

Cinnamon is a warming tonic & great source of magnesium, fibre, iron & calcium. It is a powerful antiseptic, with antiviral & antifungal properties & is often indicated in cases of viral infections, fungal infections & colds & flu. It is a mild emmenagogue, making it useful in cases of sluggish & painful menstruation. Cinnamon can be used as an appetite enhancer. It can also lower cholesterol & thin blood clots and best immunity booster products in Jaipur. It chases chills, prevents colds & warms the hands & feet of those who feel cold all the time. Cinnamon is used to enhance digestion, prevent nausea, treat coughs & generally for health problems of the respiratory & the circulatory system.

A cup of cinnamon tea, made by steeping a cinnamon stick or a scant teaspoonful of powdered cinnamon in a cup of boiling water for 10 minutes, is a good way to prevent the flu. Cinnamon tea also eases menstrual cramps, soothes sore joints, relieves gas pain & allays that feeling of fullness after a big meal. A sip or two of cinnamon tea before meals improves digestion & prevents acid reflux. Those who drink cinnamon tea regularly will have less cavities, stronger gums & fewer insect bites. Cinnamon tea is a gentle but effective remedy for both childhood diarrhea & infestations of worms. In India, cinnamon tea is regarded as a remedy against halitosis, nausea & vomiting. It is a strong stimulant for the glandular system & is very warming, so it is good for relieving the symptoms of colds, flu & sore throats. Cinnamon can be taken internally for fibroids, flatulence, intestinal cramping, inflammation, rheumatism, oral infections caused by candida. The bark of the stem & the oil obtained from it are useful as antiseptics, astringents & carminatives; the oil obtained from the leaves is used as a flavoring agent & for local application on certain rheumatic pains. Essential oil of Cinnamon has anti-coagulating, anti-microbial & antioxidant properties. Cinnamon may significantly help people with type 2 diabetes improve their ability to respond to insulin, thus normalizing their blood sugar levels. The essential oil of cinnamon is a good substitute for clove oil in treating toothache. It is particularly effective in killing the organisms that cause periodontal disease. Inhaling the warm, spicy & sweet scent of this spice can boost brain activity & memory. In China, Japan & Far-East countries, women who do not conceive & wish to strengthen the uterus take cinnamon powder. In such cases, you should take a pinch of cinnamon powder in 1/2 tsp of honey & apply it on the gums frequently throughout the day so that it slowly mixes with the saliva & enters the body.

Polycystic ovary syndrome can also be cured by using cinnamon daily, which will help jump start a woman’s period/cycle & promote fertility.

Because of its warming & stimulating properties, cinnamon is used to boost vitality, improve circulation & clear congestion. It is a well-respected digestive aid, particularly for cases of overeating, bloating & sluggish digestion & one of the best herbs around for stabilizing blood sugar levels.

Honey & cinnamon is used as a cancer treatment which kills microbes inside the cancer cells.

PRECAUTIONS:

To be safe, caution is advised for anyone with liver problems. Due to its blood-thinning effects, people should stop taking cinnamon in quantities greater than use as a spice at least one week prior to surgery. Close monitoring of blood sugar levels in diabetics is warranted to avoid unsafe lowering of blood sugar. People with prostate problems should avoid cinnamon. Large doses of cinnamon bark can cause changes in breathing & dilation of blood vessels. Once pregnant, you should not take cinnamon because it stimulates premature labor & uterine contractions. Very large amounts of powdered cinnamon can cause poisoning. Symptoms begin with central nervous system sedation, characterized by sleepiness & depression. This is followed by tachycardia & stimulation of the vasomotor center, which causes increases in intestinal peristalsis, respiration & diuresis.

RECIPES:

The flavor of cinnamon complements cooked apples, fresh fruit, fruit punches or mulled wine & is also very tasty in spice cakes & cookies.

Simmer Cinnamon sticks with milk & honey for a warming beverage.

Mix 1–3 tsp of ground Cinnamon powder in 1 cup of hot water. Let it steep for 10 minutes. Strain & drink to cure diarrhea.

For Cough:

Make a tea with ½ tsp ginger, ¼ tsp cinnamon & 1 clove per 1 cup of water. Sweeten with 1 tsp honey & drink.

Expectorant Cough Syrup:

120 ml water 120 ml honey 1–2 tsp dried mullein leaves 1–2 tsp dried white horehound herb 1–2 tsp dried rosemary leaves 1–2 tsp powdered or chopped cinnamon bark 1–2 tsp dried chopped ginger 1 pinch of cayenne Combine all ingredients in a small saucepan. Bring to the boil, then lower the heat. Simmer, uncovered, until the mixture has reduced by about one-half. Remove from the heat & strain. Cool to room temperature. Take 1 tsp as often as every 2 hours. Store in the refrigerator.

Cinnamon & Scallion Tea for Cold & Flu:

Finely chop one scallion. Put it into a teacup & add 2 slices of raw ginger & dash of powdered cinnamon. Fill the cup with hot water, let the herbs steep & drink the tea. Cinnamon & ginger induce sweating, while scallion clears sinuses.

Cinnamon for diabetes 2:

Take at least 1/2 teaspoon a day, which is critical to “soften” the cell membranes. Cinnamon mimics insulin, thus it may lower your need for insulin immediately.

Cinnamon-Ginger Tea for Menstrual Difficulties:

1 tsp chopped cinnamon bark 1 tsp chopped dried ginger or freshly grated ginger root Pour 1 cup boiling water over the herbs. Cover & let steep for ca 30 minutes. Strain & sweeten with honey. Sip slowly. Prepare & drink as often as needed, until cramps subside. Both cinnamon & ginger are reliable aids for relieving stomach & menstrual cramps. A warm poultice or hot-water bottle placed over the pelvic area can also be helpful.

Herbal Decoction for Uterine Tumors:

1 part turmeric 1 1/2 parts licorice root 4 parts cinnamon bark 5 parts peach seed Simmer slowly 30 g of dried herbs in 700 ml of water for 30–60 minutes in a covered pot. Strain & drink 1/2 cup 2 -4 times a day, between meals. Take 6 days a week. Tumors of the uterus, including uterine fibroids & cancers, very often involve blood stagnation. Ovarian cysts can also be placed in this category. Turmeric in diet helps dissolve these growths. Since the uterus & ovaries are not well-circulated area & growths there resist treatment, this decoction is invaluable for speeding the re-absorption of tumors, cancers & similar growths in the lower abdominal region.

Cinnamon Honey:

½ cup honey 1–2 tbsp cinnamon powder Gently warm the honey & then stir in the cinnamon. Stir a teaspoon of the honey into warm water or herb tea.

Cinnamon Tincture for Stabilizing Blood Sugar:

100 ml chopped cinnamon bark 80-proof alcohol (brandy, vodka) Place the cinnamon in a glass jar. Cover with alcohol. Let steep for 4- 6 weeks, shaking daily. Strain through a fine-mesh, stainless-steel strainer lined with cheesecloth. Discard the cinnamon, then bottle the liquid. Take ½ tsp 2x a day for 5 days. Continue in this manner for several weeks, or until blood sugar levels normalize.

A Soup for Joint Pain:

Cook until done 1 cup pearl barley with 1/2 tsp cinnamon, 1 pinch saffron & 1 piece Dong Quai (tang kuei) Add a pinch of following herbs as needed. For water retention: 10 juniper berries For weakness & chills: fenugreek or ginger

Warming Happiness Tea:

handful of lime flowers 1 orange,wash & slice sprinkle of cinnamon or bit of cinnamon bark Place the herbs & orange & cinnamon into the heat proof jug. Pour over ~1 l boiling water, let infuse, covered 5–10 min. Drink while warm with honey.

BEAUTY:

For Bad Breath boil 1 tsp cinnamon in 1 cup of water. Cool. Use frequently as a mouthwash.

Warming Cinnamon Bath Salts:

3 tbsp cinnamon powder 1 tbsp ginger root powder 1 cup sea salt Stir the powdered herbs into the salt. Store in a sealed glass container. Add ¼ cup of the bath salts to a bathtub filled with warm water. Stir well.

For acne, blackheads & pimples mix finely ground cinnamon powder in 1 tsp lime juice & apply on affected areas frequently.

To improve the complexion add a pinch of cinnamon powder to ¼ tsp honey & apply on the face. Let it dry then wash it with water.

MAGIC:

Cinnamon is used in magic for deep spirituality & healing, protection, scrying & power. Its can retain energy.

Cinnamon can be burned for protection & to attract money, stimulate or strengthen the psychic powers & aid in healing. Cinnamon when burned as an incense, raises high spiritual vibrations, aids in healing, draws money, stimulates psychic powers & produces protective vibrations.Cinnamon incense is one of the most common & probably the most used form of cinnamon for protection. Burning the incense works in a similar way as using it as a charm except you are converting it by burning it. To unleash its power, you can also put a pinch in your food, tea or hot cocoa. Laying cinnamon sticks along window sills will protect from the unwanted energy. You can put cinnamon sticks or fresh powdered cinnamon in your purse or a pouch to carry with you, it works in the same way & act as a protection charm.

Cinnamon has a high vibration & can be used to increase our own vibration. It can be used in this way to reach our higher selves, a higher state of spirituality. While the cinnamon spice is related to the fire element, the tree itself is ruled by the moon. The moon with her loving Lunar energy stimulates our higher selves & thinking. Cinnamon, being ruled by fire & the moon elements can provide protection as well as assist us in increasing our psychic or clairvoyant energies.

Cinnamon is great for drawing love & money & it also adds speed/force to your workings. Cinnamon can be good for bringing quick cash. Put a pinch in your wallet or your spare change jar or attach a dollar bill to it & watch your money grow.. Shop-keepers can sprinkle cinnamon chips & sugar on their door-step to encourage good trade. Cinnamon can bring luck in games & gambling.

Fill a green or gold sachet with Cinnamon to draw money & success or to use as a healing charm. A purple sachet can be used to increase your magickal &/or psychic powers. A pink or red sachet of Cinnamon can be worn, carried with you, or placed under your bed to draw love or to promote lust. Use a white sachet filled with Cinnamon to increase your spirituality & to confer protection.

Cinnamon is a very powerful herb for prosperity. You can also take this bath for five consecutive days & pray for financial improvement. Do not be specific about the amount of money or from where it should come from. Let the universe do what it wills & bring you the solution.

Prosperity Bath:

1 cup of cinnamon powder 2 cups of parsley (dried or fresh) This bath uses cinnamon to attract prosperity & money into your life. Take this bath during the waxing phase of the moon for maximum effect.

Protection Amulet:

Tie 9 cinnamon sticks together & hang them above your doors to protect your home from unwanted people & energy. As always, intention is key here. With every step you take in tying the cinnamon to placing it decoratively or not above your doors imagine what it is you want. We communicate with our energy & not so much with our verbal or mental intellect. This must come from a deep desire in your heart to will this into being. Remember that the cinnamon is a constant reminder of this desire for protection, for wealth, for strength or whatever it is that you desire the cinnamon to help you with.

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indiacater · 4 years ago

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It has been forever and a day and I apologize. But hopefully I'll be working more on posting stories and other things such as food and travel posts. Hopefully I'm not as rusty and hope you'll enjoy it.

Disclaimer: This story with contain topics of racism, sexism, prostitution, sex and violence. I do not own the characters or setting of TRR or Red Dead Redemption those are owned by their respective companies. If you find anything in my stories that you find appalling or upsetting to you then don't read it. Its that simple.

Tagging: @ao719 @bebepac @texaskitten30 @glaimtruelovealways @dcbbw @speedyoperarascalparty @kingliam2019 @kingliamandriley @kimmiedoo5

Part three

Liam grabbed a washing cloth on the dresser and headed into the bathroom. After relieving himself in the toilet, he removed his filthy clothes and sat in the hot bath, taking comfort in the hot water he closed his eyes to take in the satisfaction of being a step closer to getting justice. A few moments pass and Liam was startled by the feeling of hands on his back. He violently turned around to see Jèan. Liam’s eyes widen as he turned to cover himself. The display made Jèan giggle a little.

"Didn't mean to scare you. Since you were bathing I figured I can check to see how you're healing." She says as she moves and lowers herself to Liam’s side. "Also this a good opportunity for us to get to know each other better than just word of mouth and reputation." Jèan grabs the wet cloth Liam was using to cover himself, causing him to stiffen and take a sharp breath as she moved back behind him.

"So Liam Rhys, son to Constantine Rhys of the Cordonian Orchards plantation. Famous for the Cordonian Ruby." Jèan said, as she carefully washed Liam’s back with one hand and examined his bruises with the other.

"You know of me?!" Liam muttered, surprised.

Jèan chuckled. "No. I know of your family. Plus it's not that hard to know who owns the largest apple orchard in the country. I'm sorry that you lost your mother so young. I lost my mother pretty young as well."

Liam turned around to look her in the eyes. "I'm sorry. How did she die?" Liam asked. Jèan smiled sadly as she began to wash his chest, causing Liam’s heart to beat fast. "My pa killed her.*" She answered. "Get to know me more and I may tell you the rest of the story." Jèan returns to examining Liam. After a few more minutes she hands him back the washcloth, stands up and rinses her hands off at the sink. "You’re lucky you only manage to get a few serious bruises, but they are healing nicely, so it should be a few weeks for them to be fully healed." She then walks over a little stool in the corner and brings it to the tub and sits down again taking the washcloth and resumes washing.

*Historic disclaimer: Bass Reeves son, Benny Reeves murdered his wife, who had cheated on him. Conflicting stories of how Reeves learned of his son's warrant is hard to determine, but in the end Bass Reeves took the writ and brought his son in to face justice. Benny was sentenced to life but was released after serving 12 years, and spent his days as an upstanding citizen.

"So I'm curious to know why you chose to ride out and search for me rather than stay in Saint Denis and put your trust in the authorities?" Jèan asked as she continued to wash his chest. Liam struggled to remain calm, but his body was betraying him.

"The authorities couldn't get my mother's killer." He answered with a shaky breath. "I couldn't do anything then. I'll be damned if I just sit by when I can do something now." Jèan saw the look of despair and determination in Liam’s eyes. She dropped the wash cloth and with both hands cradled his face. Her soft hazel/brown eyes staring deep in his ocean blue ones. "I'll do all that I can to help you get that." Jèan said. With that she got up and headed to the door. "When you finish up, come to the sheriff’s office and we'll discuss our next move. I went and got you fresh clothes and brought up your food. You'd want to hurry before it gets cold." And with a smirk she walked out.

Liam continued to stare at the door for a brief minute, wondering if she may come back. He finished washing and walked out to dry off. He checks the outfit that was laid out, a cotton button down shirt, denim pants, and a new pair of leather boots. The clothes were more common than he was used to, but this is his life now and until his father’s killer is dead his life before no longer exists. After getting dressed he spotted the meal Jèan had left on the nearby table.

After he finished eating he grabbed his father’s platinum watch. He opened it and for a brief moment watched the seconds tick away. "You may not have been a great father, but I still miss you just as fiercely. I will bring your killers to justice" he silently prayed before tucking the watch away and headed out the door. The bartender flagged Liam down as he descended the stairs and pointed him towards the sheriff office and jail. Walking towards the building he was grumbling over the fact that Drake had added himself into this matter. Liam didn't care for the man due to his rude behavior towards him, but for Jèan's sake he should try to be civil.

"Jèan". The thought stopped him in his tracks again bringing his hand to his cheek. After a couple of moments he shook out of his trance and continued on. As he arrived at the station he looked around but no one was around except the ones in the cells. Confused Liam looked around until he noticed a stairwell leading upstairs. Not sure what to do he ascended the stairs, getting closer to the top he can hear voices. Getting closer still he made out that Jèan and Drake were on the upper floor.

As Liam climbs the steps he hears a strained conversation going on. He stops halfway and decides, against his better judgment, to listen.

"Drake, why do you keep bringing this up?" Jèan asked, sounding frustrated. "You know that it's something that can never happen."

"Jèan." Drake sighs loudly. "I will not push this further right now. That Rhys boy should be here. Do you still plan on coming to my room later tonight?"

Jèan chuckled lightly. "You did pay, didn't you?"

After hearing enough Liam resumed climbing the stairs. Both Jèan and Drake looked up to see his arrival. Drake went back to looking at a large table map as Jèan walked over to him to inspect the outfit she got for.

"Its a good fit for you." She said, smiling. "Not what you're used to but with what we'll be embarking it will be what you need." Again Liam’s heart jumped as Jèan caresses his face before leading him to the table. "Come we've got a long journey to plan. Let's get to work."

#trr fic #king liam #drake walker #indiacater fic #the royal romance fic

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alreadyblondenow · 4 years ago

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9:15 pm choosing baby names with Lee Taeyong (M)

It has been years since you kissed Taeyong for a stupid dare, not knowing who he is and not knowing he’s a famous idol in his country. You were clueless, simple as that. Little did you know that kiss will literally change your life.

One thing led to another, and Taeyong just keeps coming back to you and you welcome him with open arms. Its funny how dating Taeyong over the years made your life complicated and exciting at the same time. You figured, maybe it’s because you’re crazy with each other that’s why.

Now you’re sitting on the tub, enjoying the warm water while you wait for Taeyong to come join you. He came into the bathroom with his favorite scented candle already lit making the bathroom smell like apple and vanilla.

He turned off the bathroom lights before joining you, sitting behind you making you in between his long legs. He pulls you to lay on his chest and gently massage your fingers tired from working.

“What do you think about, Jade?” You feel the vibrations from his chest against your back when he answers you, “Not bad. But lets have other options” you hum longer than before, staring at the marble wall of your bathroom while drawing circles on Taeyong’s lap underwater. “Elie Ruby? We could call her Elie instead?” Your new suggestion made him laugh, and you smiled because he sounds so amused.

“Were not naming our baby after my dog. I love her but, my love for our baby is different” this time Taeyong is the one humming, wetting your hair and putting bubbles on top of your head. “How about I ask the boys tomorrow? Besides we don’t know if it’s a girl or a boy” You turned your back to face him with a smile.

“You’re finally going to tell them?” splashing some water out of of excitement.

“Yes. Now go back to your last position, I want you to relax” and so you did, still smiling like a fool you feel Taeyong caressing your tummy underwater humming a song you’re not familiar with. Maybe he wrote a song for the baby. That was fast, you’re only 2 weeks pregnant and Taeyong already has a song.

“Im sorry for not marrying you first” ah marriage, you thought. Since Taeyong is still in his prime for being an idol, you both planned not to get married yet even though you’re dying to say “I do” already.

You felt his hands creep up to your boobs his fingertips feels good against your nipples. “Close your eyes” he whispered and tingles spread across your body in an instant making your lips part and let out an involuntary moan.

Hearing just the sounds of his sweet kisses on your neck slowly travelling on your shoulders. What he’s doing now is indeed relaxing.

Still kissing your body, Taeyong whispers sweet promises that makes your heart at ease. “I will make you happy. Every second of the day” embracing you from behind, admiring how you fit perfectly between his legs. “Just have more patience baby. We will have a happy marriage”

You don’t know how exactly to react with everything he’s doing right now. Taeyong is providing you calm with his presence but making you horny with his hands around your body. When you finally opened your eyes, you turned your back facing him again. Now its your turn to kiss him and show him love.

While kissing him slowly with lust and adoration, you grab his hard cock underwater and stroke it up and down. Closing his eyes shut he pulls away from the kiss to let out a soft airy moan and relaxes his head on the cold marble wall. “Baby” he gulps, “Dont stop” taking this opportunity to kiss his exposed neck, you’re careful not to leave marks. His moans got louder when he said he’s near, and in a matter of seconds you see the tip of his cock underwater let out white fluids. “You’re always making me feel good, do you know that? I was really exhausted from practice today”

After washing up and having a proper bath, Taeyong was the one putting on lotion around your body. Spreading the Shea Butter scented lotion he gave to you and putting some on his body. Not bothering to put on some clothes, Taeyong brings you to your bed and kissed every inch of you. “Do you wanna have sex tonight?” He asked, lips all over your body and his fingers playing with your wet folds.

“Just make me cum then lets sleep. Were both tired from work baby. You need rest. Lots of rest” you heard him say a soft ‘okay’ before you feel his lips against your pussy. And without any warning, he insert a digit while he licks at your pussy from the bottom to your clit slowly. Making you close your legs but his freehand is quick to grab one of your leg and puts it right above his shoulders, giving him a better angle. Licking you in an animalistic pace, you cum on his face your pussy earning a good kiss from him. That made you smile.

When he finally lay beside you, you dried your juices on his face using a tissue from your bedside. “I thought you’re tired. That was good” you said still panting. He hums and you see his eyelids closing already. Yeah he’s tired. You pull up your soft covers making him comfortable hoping he will get a good night sleep.

After closing the lamp light and making yourself comfortable beside Taeyong, he murmurs a sweet “I love you and our angel” before pulling you closer to him and finally sleeping.

“We love you too.”

Full fic for this time stamp :) - On and Off

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#nct-writers #nct #nct 127 #nct scenarios #nct smut #taeyong #nct fic #lee taeyong #kpop fic #nct fluff #idol!au #pregnant reader #taeyong x reader

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witchvspatriarchy · 4 years ago

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DAY OF THE DEATH OFFERINGS (ALTARS) IN MEXICO

The offering (altar) for the dead should have several essential elements, and each of them has their mysticism:

Water. The source of life is offered to the souls to quench their thirst after their long journey and to strengthen their return. In some cultures symbolizes the purity of the soul.

Salt. The element of purification, serves so that the body is not corrupted in its round trip for the following year.

Candles. Ancient Mexicans used ocote slices. Today the candle is used; the flame it produces means faith and hope. It is a guide for the souls so they can reach their old places and return to their home. In several indigenous communities, each candle represents a deceased, that is, the number of candles that the altar will have will depend on the souls that the family wants to receive. If the tapers or candlesticks are purple, it is a sign of mourning; and if four of these are placed on a cross, they represent the four cardinal points, so that the soul can orient itself until it finds its way and its home.

Copal and incense. The copal was offered by the natives to their gods since the incense was not yet known, it arrived with the Spanish. It is the element that sublimates prayer or praise. Fragrance of reverence. It is used to cleanse the place of evil spirits so that the soul can enter your home without any danger.

Flowers. They adorn and aromatize the place during the soul's stay, which will leave happy when it leaves, the wallflower and the nube cannot be absent because they mean purity and tenderness, and they accompany the souls of the children.

In many parts of the country it is customary to put petal paths that serve to guide the deceased from the holy field to the offering and vice versa. The leafless yellow flower of the cempasuchil (Zempoalxóchitl) is the path of color and smell that trace the routes to the souls.

Petate. Among the many uses of the petate are that of a bed, table or shroud. On this particular day it works for the souls to rest as well as a tablecloth to place the food of the offering.

Izcuintle. This one should not be missing in the altars for children, it serves as a toy so the souls of the little ones feel happy when they arrive at the banquet. The izcuintle dog is the one that helps souls cross the mighty Chiconauhuapan river, which is the last step to reach Mictlán.

Bread. Made in different ways, bread is one of the most precious items on the altar. The most common one is the “bread of the death”, a bread sprinkled with sugar that symbolizes the bones of the living.

Gollete y cañas. Related to the tzompantli. The golletes are loaves in the shape of a wheel and are placed in the offerings supported by pieces of cane. Depending on your upbringing, they may symbolize the skulls of the defeated enemies and the cañas the rods where they were threaded OR the roundness of the gollete may symbolize the circle of life and the cañas the life passing through towards dead.

Other objects to commemorate and offer to the faithful departed are:

The portrait of the person remembered, in more traditional offerings it must remain hidden, so that it can only be seen with a mirror, to imply that the loved one can be seen but no longer exists.

The image of the Souls of Purgatory, to obtain the freedom of the soul of the deceased, just in case it is found in that place, to help it get out.

Other images of saints can be placed, to serve as a means of interaction between the dead and the living, since on the altar they are synonymous with good social relations. In addition, they symbolize peace at home and the firm acceptance of sharing food, such as apples, which represents blood, and kindness through the pumpkin in tacha candy.

The mole with chicken, hen or turkey, is the favorite dish that many indigenous people from all over the country put on the altar, although they also add barbecue and consommé. These dishes are that trail of aromas, the kitchen banquet in honor of remembered beings. Good food is intended to delight the soul that visits us. It is most traditional to place foods that were the favorites of the deceased that are awaited for the night. If adult souls are expected, you may find wine on the altar.

Chocolate water. Pre-Hispanic tradition says that the guests drank chocolate prepared with the water that the deceased used to bathe, so that the visitors were impregnated with the essence of the deceased.

Another very common element are sugar skulls. Medium sugar skulls are allusion to the ever-present death. The small skulls are dedicated to the Holy Trinity and the big one to the Eternal Father.

A washbasin, soap and towel can also be placed in case the soul needs to wash its hands after the long journey.

This post follows what the INPI (National Institute of Indigenous People) says about the Mexican Day of the Dead on its official page.

#day of the death #traditions #mexico #mexican tradition #dia de muertos #day of the departed #sugar skulls #history #history lesson #mexican history

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capsized-heart · 5 years ago

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Little Lamb

Pairing: vampire!Wanda Maximoff x Reader, incubus!Quentin Beck x Reader

Summary: Your simple life in the Sokovian countryside is no more. The events of a single night disrupt the natural order of your world. God is silent. He always is.

Word count: 4k+

Warnings: (oh boy..) violence, blood, gore, sacrilegious imagery, explicit smut

A/N: This is my entry for @thewritingdoll‘s freaky500 writing challenge! Congrats on 500 followers! <3 I wish I could have finished this before yesterday’s deadline, especially before Halloween since this shit is so dark aha

I had a lot of fun with this! I honestly wish I could have done more bc I could write about Wanda and Quentin forever..I feel like I had to restrain myself a bit. I really like how both Wanda and Quentin can see someone’s deepest fears and thought that dynamic would be really cool for an au.

I was also inspired to write this after seeing this beautiful moodboard by @tohomorii...you honestly killed it with that Wanda vampire aesthetic.

using the quote prompt, “He’s covered in blood again. Why is it he’s always covered in blood?” -harry potter and the half blood prince

Sokovia, 17th century.

Dawn breaks with rosy hues and warm, vibrant gold. The soft, streaky clouds of early autumn float lazily by, stippling the sky with pinks and baby blues. Your eyes follow a flock of blackbirds as they flicker across a patch of sunlit horizon in a melodious chortle, climbing and climbing beyond to lofty heavens. You smile.

Your purse jingles with the sound of newfound coin. You’ve had a productive morning at market, having left your family homestead yesterday afternoon for the day’s ride. You’d sold your stock of bread and eggs to Ms. Ryba, homemade jams to old Dmitri, trading your other goods for the groceries mother had asked of you. As a surprise, you’d also purchased a small leatherbound book for your papa, a new piece of stitching work and silks for mama. Gifts carefully wrapped in linen and secured in your saddlebag, a small bit of happiness glowing in the crook of your ribs. Your heart feels full. You finger the crucifix around your neck.

Times have been hard for you and your family. This summer’s harvest had been exceptionally low with heat and droughts. Money has never been a luxury and you’ve been broken with the disciplines of how to bargain hard, conserve, safeguard, and how to put the needs of your parents before your own.

These gifts will bring favor and approval to their eyes. A godly daughter. Honor thy father and thy mother.

You tilt your face upwards to the flushed morning, relish the fresh breeze tickling your skin and murmur a quick prayer of thanks.

O God, who hast folded back the mantle of the night to clothe us in the golden glory of the day, chase from our hearts all gloomy thoughts, and make us glad with the brightness of hope, that we may effectively aspire to unwon virtues, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

You ride atop Iryna, your family’s tender Carpathian pony now weighed down with your spoils, and watch the fields of your homeland ripple in red and honey light. Even Iryna seems to sense your good mood as her head bobs with her quick gait. You balance a basket of apples in your lap, a reward that you had purchased for her (and for yourself) after a long day’s journey.

This is a safe country, not at all uncommon for young peasant girls to ride to market alone. Broad plains and cut mountains, you’d passed your closest neighbors about ten miles back, welcome solitude on each homestead.

You like to spend your time on these rides daydreaming of riding in a royal procession as princess, or as cavalry returning from battle abroad. How you would be welcomed back home to your kingdom!

Smoke curls from your cottage chimney as the edge of your family’s property comes into view. You squeeze your heels against Iryna in encouragement and she trots faster, the promise of a waiting breakfast and the smiles of your mother and father urging you forward.

The smell of hay and manure greets you as you lead Iryna into the barn. You adjust your skirts, woolen tunic, riding cloak, and wimplet before dismounting, careful not to catch anything on your saddle or packages. You slide off Iryna’s bridle and feed her an apple, rubbing soothing circles into her neck as she devours the fruit, snorting happily.

You give her fresh feed, change her water, quickly removing your tack and supplies and turn her out into the pasture, whispering a promise to give her a thorough brushing later. She gallops away with a swish of her tail. With your arms full of supplies and balancing your bushel of apples, you kick through dust and dirt and enter your cottage.

You’re about to call out to your mama when your voice stops in your throat. The nauseating stench of rot fills your nose, familiar and ominous, like when papa slaughters the chickens for winter stock. Only this time it’s inside your home.

Your arms go limp and your packages fall to the floor in a muffled thud of wrapped paper. Apples bounce, scatter, rolling through soot and blood.

Your father lies crumpled, his strong body disfigured in a tangle of limbs. His skull has been crushed into a crown of grey matter and gore, leaking like tears down the planes of his face. His eyes and mouth hang open in a frozen, silent scream, twisted skyward in agony. Protectively draped over your mother in his final moments.

Your mother is spread-eagled with her throat slit open and her veil stuffed into her mouth, rosary beads crudely circled tight around her wrists in manacles. Her skirts have been torn, bunched around her thighs and you see violet bruises in the shape of hands.

You stumble to the hearth and wretch up bile and water. You heave, vomit, tears stinging your eyes and mucus dribbling down your chin until there is nothing left in your stomach but a wriggling pit of nerves. You can’t breathe, can’t think. Strength evaporates from your body and you sink in front of the cooling embers of the fireplace.

You look to the bodies of your parents. You don’t bother trying to feel for a pulse. You are numb.

You stay beside them until the light outside turns bleak and grey, until your legs ache from kneeling on hard wooden floor for countless hours. Slowly, finally, you wipe your mouth, lift yourself up.

You find the scythe used to harvest wheat. It feels good and heavy in your hands, makes you feel strong. You make rounds to the rest of the property with it tight in your grip.

Your homestead has been completely ransacked. What livestock that hasn’t been stolen lies dead, slain and swarmed by flies. You’re left with one cow, six chickens, two goats, and Iryna.

You salvage whatever raw materials you can. You return the scythe back to the shed, unused, the sharp, pristine metal gleaming a cool blue. Part of you had hoped that the intruders still lurked about. Maybe then you could have descended upon them with all the silent wrath of Jael, as she had killed Sisera.

You whistle a low blast. Iryna trots over to you, nuzzles your hand for another treat. It makes you smile and fresh tears to drip down your cheeks. You wonder if she can sense anything awry, sense that your entire world has been violently turned on its head. You don’t think you’ll ever crave apples again.

They’ll only taste of sin.

It takes you well into the night to dig two deep holes. The ground is frigid with frost and your breath clouds, fogging the air as you work the soil in an eerie echo of familiar, mundane times. Instead of the sun, the moon guides your hand. Instead of toiling the fields to lay in crops, you prepare the graves of your mother and father.

Sweat slicks your skin, dirt streaking down your neck and arms. The moon has dipped below the hillside when you finish, plunging you in complete darkness. You thrust the spade into the ground.

You are not strong enough to carry the bodies of your parents. You will have to tie them to Iryna and bring them here to the fields. But you cannot tonight with the last of the moonlight gone.

And tomorrow is the day of the Sabbath, your holy day of rest. You will have to wait to bury them.

You hug yourself tight. From the cold, from the juvenile fear of death and despair.

Did Christ not feel this way upon the cross? Abandoned by his own father? Alone?

And about the ninth hour Jesus cried with a loud voice, saying, "Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani?" that is, “My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?”

You rise late. Fatigue still sits deep in your bones when you go and collect eggs and milk for your breakfast. You step over your mother and father. Splattered blood, now dry, ring around their heads in crimson halos.

You spend the day idly. You read the book you had bought for your father, practice your stitching with the embroidery hoop and silks meant for your mother. You heat water for a bath and sprinkle in some of the salts and oils she kept tucked away in her bedroom. You wash away tears and dirt and grime.

You relish the hot water as it seeps into your tense muscles, watch the milky surface ripple around your limbs. The cottage is quiet and seems to settle around you.

You were always the last to bathe out of your small family. You would be told to fetch and heat the water, waiting until your father finished, then your mother. By the time it was your turn, the bathwater was always cold and dirty. You were not allowed to change it out as it was costly and a waste of time. You would be quick to rinse.

Now, you sit until your fingers becomes wrinkled and pruny, your skin and hair fragranced with the smell of rose petals and lavender. There is no one to scold you to hurry up.

Iryna watches over you as you pack the last of the dirt over the burials. You’re both exhausted. You finish at midday. You finger the crucifix around your neck.

O God, grant unto us, in this dying life, that peace for which we humbly pray, and hereafter to attain unto everlasting joy in Thy presence; through our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.

You pass your days in solitude and in fear. You wonder if the bandits will return. It makes you pray harder, harder than you have in your entire life. You ask for forgiveness, for protection, for salvation.

The windy autumn nights bring chills and unease. The windows rattle in their frames, the cottage groans, and the goats bleat in the pressing darkness.

Visions of your murdered parents dance behind your eyelids. A crown of gore, blood red tears, suffocating rosary beads. The possibility of specters and demons and Satan’s lurking servants seem to hide behind each darkened corner. The homestead feels too vast, too isolating. You feel yourself slowly going mad, every howl of curling wind making you shudder in your cot.

You ask for companionship. A friend to share company.

A young woman’s voice calls out to you. The day is abnormally warm and you’re hanging laundry to dry in the sun when you first lay eyes on her.

She wears a riding cloak and veil, a pretty woolen dress of fine cardinal fabric. Her hair falls in loose waves down to her chest, catching the sunlight in a gleam of muted copper.

She leads the most magnificent looking horse you’ve ever seen. A towering black Clydesdale that stands eighteen hands high with a glossy coat and tail, powerful muscles moving with every stride. Curiously, you see no saddle or tack, only the leather bridle she uses to guide him.

When you approach her, the young woman asks if you are master of the house. You respond with, yes. She smiles and takes your hands in hers, inquiring if she may stay for a few nights before continuing her journey to the next town. She says she will pay you with coin and labor, with whatever help you may need around the property.

The gesture surprises you. Travelers are few in this stretch of country and your family has never housed one before. But, you think of how turning this woman away would mean another day’s ride for her until she reached the next homestead. As you’ve understood, these trails are no longer safe. Especially for a young woman riding alone.

When you agree to offer her lodging, she blesses you with another radiant smile and kisses your cheeks. It’s enduring, warms your heart and tingles your fingers still laced with her own.

As promised, Wanda helps you with your chores. She does not ask about your family or parents or why a young girl of your age could indeed be master of a homestead all by herself. You do not ask why a beautiful woman is traveling alone. Instead, she carefully listens to your instructions and assists you perfectly.

You’ve just finished gathering firewood when the two of you head to the barn to tend to your few and precious livestock. You muck out stalls, change hay and water. Wanda’s Clydesdale watches you from one of the extra stalls you’ve placed him in.

When Wanda tries to lead out Iryna, she flinches away and flattens her ears in a shrill whinny. It catches you both off guard and you quickly take the rope from Wanda’s hands before Iryna can hurt herself, placating her with a low hush.

“She does not like me.” Wanda frowns. It’s charmingly youthful, makes her look like a pouting child.

“She is not used to strangers,” you soothe, smiling gently. You return Iryna to her stall and slide the door shut. “What is your Clydesdale’s name?” You ask.

Wanda’s mood seems to lift instantly and you catch a glimmer in her hazel eyes. “Paimon,” she tells you. “Paimon is friendly to everyone, especially strangers. But, he loves pretty girls most of all.”

Later, you invite her into your home and the two of you relax your tired bones by the evening fire.

The days grow cold and dark. You and Wanda now share the bed of your late parents, bigger and warmer than your own. You awake each glowing morning with her slender arms wrapped tight around your waist, her face buried into the crook of your neck.

For warmth, you tell yourself.

Her sighs, her moans in sleep stir something in the pit of your stomach.

You’re unsure of what other reason you would prefer.

The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak.

Wind and rain whistle against the glass panes of your cottage. It is a dreary, bleak morning of storm, one that has forced you and Wanda to remain inside. A fire crackles in the hearth and throws dancing shadows along the walls. You sit and read while Wanda busies herself with housework. It is the first time you’ve felt peace in months.

She returns from the pantry, setting down her washcloth and bucket with a faint groan. You look up.

Warm, flickering light highlights the skin of her collarbones and cheeks. Wanda has plaited back her hair to keep it out of her eyes, save for a few wispy strands that fall to frame her face.

You swallow, enraptured.

She catches you staring and her irises seem to glow brighter with firelight. She turns slowly, sauntering towards you with measured, delicate steps.

“Little one, didn’t your mother ever tell you that it’s impolite to stare?” she whispers. She walks until she is flush against you and the fabric of her dress brushes your toes. Without looking away, she eases the book out of your hands and sets it facedown on the table. Your father’s bible.

Your mouth dries up, your pulse hammers.

Wanda tilts her head, her expression clouding. Then, she sinks to her knees to straddle you completely, arms winding around your neck.

“Sweet girl, when I ask you a question, I expect a response.”

Her fingers trace your jaw, looking down at you with a stern, flinty gaze. You find your hands holding the swell of her hips, pulling her closer.

“Those who see you will stare and wonder, ‘Is this the man who made the world tremble and shook up kingdoms?’” you recite into the ever closing gap between your mouths. She sighs, high and breathless, feel her overheated body slowly start to move against you.

Your lips and tongue meet in a tangled kiss. Your first. She tastes of myrtle and honeyed milk. You feel yourself falling when you gently cup this young woman’s face in your hands, kissing and touching and her fingers lustfully twisting into the nape of your neck. Dizzy, ashamed. Your skin is on fire.

You think of Lucifer’s wings burning away as He hurtled towards earth.

“I’m so thirsty, my love. Thirsty for you,” Wanda gasps. Her pupils are blown impossibly wide, ringed in red. Her canines glint in the darkness. “Will you let me drink?”

You remember Iryna’s skittishness, Wanda’s beast of a horse, Paimon. No saddle, no luggage. A lone, beautiful woman wandering the countryside with exquisite eyes and sharp, sharp teeth. A devil in masquerade who never intended to leave.

Slowly, you untie the strings of your dress’s blouse and expose your shoulders, the dip of your chest. Wanda’s lips part hungrily, the shadow of her eyelashes fluttering like feathers.

She sets you back and runs her fingers over the thin skin of your neck. Her touch is smooth, gentle. Then, she leans over you, keeping you still with a single hand wrapped deliciously around your throat, pressing you deeper into the wooden chair.

The bite of teeth, then white pleasure. Your vision rolls and you writhe against her in a fit of sighs and otherworldly bliss. Suction, flickering tongue, the obscene sounds of her mouth devouring you whole. You moan, cage her against your body and you hear her chuckle.

Blood trails down her throat and drips between her breasts when she finally sits back, sated. Half-lidded eyes gazing down at you with more love and adoration than you’ve ever known.

You are her blessed wine.

Take this, all of you, and drink from it,

for this is the chalice of my Blood,

the Blood of the new and everlasting covenant,

which will be shed for you and for all

so that sins may be forgiven.

Do this in memory of me.

“Amen.” she murmurs with a kiss.

God is silent. He always is.

Wanda pulls you atop her. She cradles your face, smooths back your hair as she looks up at you in the silvered morning light.

“Little one, would you like to live forever?”

The question takes you by surprise, makes you pause. She takes the opportunity to kiss your fingertips, arch her hips into you. It makes your breath hitch, but your mind is clear.

“As long as it’s with you.”

She grins, gleaming and bright, the first glimpse of sun you’ve seen in this godforsaken autumn.

“Oh, my sweet little bride, my princess of night.” she sighs.

“Yes,” you whimper.

She gazes into your mind and sees what you’ve always wanted.

Wanda prepares for the ritual that very evening. Candles, parchment, a single serrated knife.

She bathes the two of you in the shared tub, washes your hair and cleanses you, a mock baptism with soap and scented oils. Her fingers wander, coaxing pleasure as you lean back against her.

Finally, she guides you to the bed when the world outside stands cold, silent, watching, at the cusp between night and day.

Wanda eases your finger between her lips and pricks the skin with the point of her teeth. Her eyes flutter before reluctantly removing it, a string of saliva following suit. You watch the single bead of blood bloom and sign the parchment with a steady hand.

Cold air brushes your cheeks, skin tingling as if touched, breath in your ear. You feel your vision haze in and out of focus, a foreign sensation overcoming your body.

Then, a young man appears before you. He’s tall and lean and handsomely bearded, dark hair curling against his forehead, down the tufts of his chest and arms. His eyes, green and glimmering, inspect you carefully, tracing every curve of your exposed skin. You feel achingly vulnerable, pinned.

Your eyes trail lower and lower until…

You find that he is completely bare. You flush and turn to hide your face into Wanda’s shoulder. She chuckles, gently takes your chin in her hand and tilts your gaze back onto him.

“This is the flesh of Adam, sweet one,” she murmurs. “It is not shameful to lust. Did God not create man in his own image?”

Wanda reaches out her other hand in offering and the man takes it, lowers himself onto the bed. There is an air of familiarity between the two of them as they share a kiss of greeting.

“Welcome, Quentin.” she hums. She fondly runs her thumb along his cheek and he leans into her touch. Quentin’s eyes then flicker to you.

“Is this my gift?” he asks. His voice is soft, sweet like honey. Wanda hums again. Quentin smiles warmly, looking you up and down. Your blood ignites.

With one hand on both of your faces, she guides you and Quentin together. He kisses you, surprisingly soft and gentle, cradling your jaw with a touch that makes your stomach flutter. You hear Wanda moving, feel her touch.

Some of the tension wound tight in your shoulders evaporates with Wanda beside you. It encourages you to be braver, bolder as you kiss the incubus back more urgently, touch his skin. Quentin responds with a purr and tangles a hand in your hair, mouthing at your neck, tracing your puncture wounds with a soothing, possessive tongue.

He draws you upon his lap, still pulled flush against him and the heat of him so close to the most intimate part of your anatomy makes you timid, afraid.

“Relax, lamb.” he whispers. “Enjoy this, enjoy us.”

The broad touch of his fingers against you makes you mewl in surprise. Wanda hushes you with a soft kiss, takes one of your hands in hers. Quentin’s palm rests on the plane of your stomach, his other easing into where you’re most aching and tight, where a man’s strong touch has never breached.

He slowly guides your hips upon his hand, until his fingers glisten with your slick and your body starts to warm with the glow of angelfire.

“Keep going, little lamb,” Quentin urges into your ear. “You know how, don’t you? Those lonely nights when your parents lay fast asleep abed?”

You moan. Indeed you do. Nights where darkness was most suffocating and you prayed that God would turn a blind eye to your lust.

You shatter with the heat of hell rain. With your body still clenching and fluttering, Quentin lays you out beneath him, his eyes darker, lips turned up into a sly smile. You’re breathless.

He feels cold when he enters you, a sensation you would have least expected from a creature molded by burning sin and Lucifer’s fire. Yet, it pushes your poor, mortal flesh to the thresholds of pleasure and you reach for Wanda, keening. Wanda slinks closer and pushes your hair out of your eyes.

“How does she feel?”

“Like a dream,” Quentin moans, laughing. “You want Wanda and I both, lamb? I can see it in your mind’s eye. So needy, you are. I’ll give you what you want, lamb. You’re doing so good for me.”

You don’t remember waking up. A blood moon hangs in the sky.

You feel the lull of pleasure, of Quentin’s lush curls buried between your thighs. Your fingers catch on horns, his velvety tongue forked as it slips into you.

Your world blurs around you, dreamlike.

Again, you reach for Wanda and she laces your fingers together with a smile, kisses your damp forehead.

“Is this real?” you moan into her neck.

“As real as your God, sweet one. Are you ready to come home?”

You nod, drowsy with euphoria. You see Wanda take up the silver knife and again, you offer your hand.

You wince when she slices open your palm, watch the blood seep over and down your arm in great drops. Quentin lifts his head from between your legs, intoxicatingly beautiful with shining lips and heat in his eyes. He keeps his gaze on you as he drives into you again, as your hand stains his chest and neck with crimson, ravishing you again and again. You feel Wanda’s tongue and then the bite of her fangs.

You arch, reborn with the blessing of immortality and pressed between two demons.

You wonder how many times these two have completed a ritual like this, with Quentin’s powerful body covered in virgin’s blood.

His blessed cup.

And the Lamb will overcome them, because He is Lord of lords and King of kings, and those who are with Him are the called and chosen and faithful.

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lovemesomesurveys · 5 years ago

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1. Do you take vitamins? If so, what kinds?: A few weeks ago I discovered they make vitamin patches and that was a big game changer for me, especially because it included an iron one. Iron used to only come in pill form and then I found a liquid iron supplement that was supposed to taste like apple or something, but it was just like drinking pennies or something. It was awful. I’m very anemic and it showed in my skin and other issues, so I needed to do something. I found these patches and have been using them for almost a month now. It’ll take awhile to see a big difference, especially cause I was so anemic, but I think it’s working. It’s gotta be better than nothing. I’m going to look into the other patches as well because I have other vitamin deficiencies. 2. What brand of eyeliner do you use?: I haven’t worn eyeliner or any makeup in like over a year now, but when I did I generally used CoverGirl eyeliner. 3. What’s your favorite flavor of Sun Chips?: I haven’t had those in yearssss. I liked them all, though. 4. Do you like Ugg boots?: No. 5. How old were you when you first started taking surveys?: I think 14. ....omg.

6. What color are your slippers?: I don’t wear any slippers. 7. What’s your boy/girlfriend’s middle name?: 8. Do you get your nails done?: No. There aren’t any nails there to get done :| 9. Dream vacation?: So many. I wanna travel to various places all over. 10. What toppings do you like on your pizza?: Feta and ricotta cheese, spinach, garlic, crumbled meatballs, and pesto. 11. How much was your prom dress? What’s the most you’d spend?: I think it was like $80 something bucks. 12. Are you a gamer?: No. There’s some games I like to play, but I’m definitely not a gamer. I don’t play that often. 13. What shampoo do you use?: This salon shampoo for red dyed hair. 14. Do you buy organic?: No. 15. What kind of socks do you normally wear?: I only ever wear ankle socks for one, and a lot of my socks now are Adidas socks in different styles and colors. I have a few “fun” ones, too, like Super Mario Brothers socks. ha. 16. Are most of your friends single or taken?: I don’t have any friends. 17. When you’re taking a survey that has a “Which of your friends is… the nicest? The prettiest? The smartest? Etc.” do you skip over it?: Yeah. 18. Last thing you bought on eBay? What about sold?: Some stuff for Christmas last year. I’ve never sold anything. 19. What day is your payday? Do you get paid weekly or bi-weekly?: The 1st of every month. 20. What salon do you go to for getting your hair done?: One in a nearby city. 21. Do you drive?: Nope. 22. Where do you buy most of your lotions from?: The ones I have now are from Bath and Body Works. 23. Do you keep a diary?: This is it. 24. Do you believe in luck?: No. 25. Would you marry someone of a different religion?: I don’t plan on getting married at all. 26. Would you convert for them?: I’m firm in my belief. 27. Worst part about your job?: I don’t have a job. 28. Last thing you lost?: I could say myself or my sanity, but I’ll go with a lighter answer instead. I can’t seem to find my Disney hoodie I got a few years ago. I have no idea what happened to it. 29. Ever took something out of the lost and found that wasn’t yours?: No. 30. Do you delete friends from Facebook if they never talk to you?: I’ve done a Facebook cleanup a few times in the past. I haven’t in a long time, though. I don’t talk to anyone either, so. ha. I do “like” (or one of the other reactions we can choose from) various shared posts, photos, and statuses, though. 31. Did you go to IHOP’s free pancake day? If so, did you donate?: No. 32. Worst job you ever had?: I’ve never had a job. 33. What about best?: - 34. Do you know what you want to do for the rest of your life?: Nopeeeeee. 35. Do you have a savings account? How often do you deposit money into it?: No. 36. Do you smoke cigarettes?: No. 37. Do you know anyone who smokes cigars?: No. 38. How often do you wash your hair?: Every couple days. 39. Favorite kind of M&Ms?: The kind with white chocolate inside, peanut butter, crispy, peanut, and regular. I haven’t M&Ms or any candy in so long, wow. 40. Do you worry a lot?: Yeppp. 41. Favorite thing to order at your favorite restaurant?: I love the biscuits and gravy with scrambled eggs from this local restaurant. They have the best country gravy. 42. Ugliest fashion trend at the moment?: I don’t even know what’s trendy right now. 43. Do you wear thongs?: No. 44. When does school start/end for you?: I graduated college in 2015. I’m doneeee. 45. Do you like texting?: Over talking on the phone. I don’t do a lot of texting either, though. 46. What do you put in your coffee?: Flavored creamer or half and half with sugar. 47. Do you like disco fries?: I’ve never heard of disco fries. I had to Google that, and apparently they’re basically Jersey’s version of Canada’s poutine fries. Huh. 48. Do you like glittery nail polishes?: They’re pretty looking, but a pain to take off. Some don’t go on that well, either. I haven’t painted my nails in years; though, so I’m out of the loop on what’s out there. Maybe they’ve made better ones now. 49. Were you a good kid in high school?: Yeah. I was always the good, quiet student.

#personal #text #survey #surveys

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aha-my-villainous-thoughts · 5 years ago

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Please, Keep Me. (Good Omens)

Well then. That was a lot longer than previously planned. The whole concept of NaNoWriMo is great, but the practical application is tricky. This chapter was exhausting, and reminded me why I hate writing weird characters. It doesn’t help that I switched countries half way through writing it, and could only pick it up in snatches through Christmas, 200 words there, half a page there.

Doesn’t matter. Part 1 here!

I have a series of chapters planned out in a random order, I’ve been trying to form them into the type of plot I wanted, we’ll see what happens. I just plan to enjoy spending time in this little world and maybe will restructure it once it’s more or less complete.

Part 9

The wooden bookcases slowly gave way to tall trunks of trees, their branches twisting over them in a wide canopy. Light peaked through but only in a dim series of warm shards. The floor became knotted with roots and packed down earth, moss growing underfoot as they made their way through the blackberry patch. Looking back they could see the dull glow of the library, but the trees stretched around them in every direction, tree trunks obscuring the dimensions of the forest they found themselves in. Crowley led the way with a certain version of confidence, his senses so flooded with the sensations of the forest he forgot to feel any form of trepidation. There was a stillness here that didn’t sit quite right. Stillness in a library was one thing, but stillness in a living forest was another. Crowley turned his head, searching for the sounds of birds or animals but he could only hear the rustle of leaves, the gentle creak of branches.

Had he been paying attention he would have noticed that the angel - usually so keen to fill the silence with observation - was also uncharacteristically quiet. He could still sense Aziraphale close behind him, feel his feet on the ground and the swish of his robes, but the Keeper was also completely absorbed in their surroundings.

As they continued along the path the tall trees began to shrink a little, bringing the canopy closer to the forest floor, and became more twisted and relaxed, if there was in fact a way for a forest to appear relaxed. There were definitely birds here now, and sunlight breaking through leaves to encourage bushes and flowers to weave their way upwards. There was no real order here, only a pleasant thriving chaos that Crowley approved of greatly. Weaving their way through what could have been an orchard of fruit trees - although oddly devoid of fruit. They had spent time reading up about all the different types of fruit trees and the kind of soil they favoured, the light they enjoyed, the kind of harvest to expect. Crowley knew without looking behind him that Aziraphale was peering into each cluster of branches with a dim hopeful expression of veiled curiosity, hoping to find a shining red skinned apple to pluck down or maybe even a peach. He didn’t have to look behind him, but he did anyway, and seeing the angel’s careful expression as he parted leaves to search for fruit was enough to make his heart beat a little harder.

Aziraphale would go without a second helping of freshly picked fruit this day it seemed, as all of the trees were harvested. They soon uncovered the reason why.

Coming to a small clearing in the woods, the trees thinned out to allow the sunlight to pour through and fill the space with a warm glow. Crowley had heard about sunlight casting out warmth, but it was the first time he had ever experienced the sensation like this. Moving into a beam he wriggled with delight feeling the warmth spill across his skin. Twisting over to let the sunlight cover his belly he greedily soaked up as much of the heat as he could.

Crowley had bathed in pure starlight every day for all of his existence. He had wrestled stars into orbs, harnessed cosmic fire and sent it spitting across the night sky in a brilliant comet. He had held fire in his hands, letting it play over his fingers like a living creature. None of these were like this, this was so delicate and soft and good.

Filtered through skies of emptiness and dust, the roaring heat of the sun reaching out and only barely skimming the soft earth with its fingertips. All that destructive energy reduced down to this one glorious little pool of warmth that filled Crowley with its very purpose.

He continued to wriggle indulgently, coiling around himself like a rope knotted onto itself. When he finally looked up he found Aziraphale’s blue eyes creased up in a fond smile, the angel kneeling next to him. He stilled, suddenly feeling embarrassed. Aziraphale’s smile only grew.

“Does it feel good, little thing? Oh, my little thing,”

The gentleness in Aziraphale’s voice could have broken Crowley, and he slowly unknotted himself until he was back in his traditional coil, lifting his head to meet his angel’s eyes. He wanted to say something. He wanted to agree, to nod and say ‘Yes, your little thing. I’m yours. Please,’. He wanted to whisper Aziraphale’s name, if only so the angel could hear how softly he would hold his name in his mouth, how carefully he would form it with his tongue.

But that would mean revealing the deception. And curse him, he was too weak to tear it away just yet.

Aziraphale reached out one hand and slipped his fingers into the beam of light, watching it illuminate his skin. He cast out his fingers, turning his hand over to feel the play of shadow across his palm. His hand kept coming, and brushed against Crowley’s jawbone lightly, fingertips tracing the heat from his scales.

“Glorious,” he whispered, “Beautiful,” he told Crowley, his eyes practically glowing.

The moment broke just before Crowley’s resolve, with a sudden rustle in a nearby bush and a sound of feet thumping across moss and tree roots. A patter of little feet as a small creature ran through the orchard and appeared just to the other side of Crowley, his eyes snapping to the movement and following the animal. They both turned, and watched as the animal barrelled its way into the clearing and towards the large twisted oak tree in its very centre. Around the old roots woven into the dirt there was a sloping sandy bank which dipped before rising up to meet the forest around it, where the two observers now hid behind a large felled trunk of an old tree now coated in moss. Aziraphale crouched carefully, peering over the edge with his nose stuck right up against the trunk. Crowley slunk his way up it, already perfectly suited for disguise.

The animal that had bolted past them wasn’t much larger than Crowley’s snake form, but with four legs and two long ears which moved from being flat against its head to loose as it reached the opening in the roots of the oak tree and collapsed - somewhat dramatically - on the sandy porch of the tunnel leading into the ground. It had collapsed in front of a larger version of itself, but this animal happened to be wearing a large blue cotton dress with a very clean white pinny, and a shawl tied around its shoulder with a cerise pink ribbon wound through its border.

“Rabbits!” whispered Aziraphale, with the kind of excitement reserved for only the greatest of discoveries. “I’m sure of it!”

The mother rabbit - for that was who she was - bent down to the young rabbit panting for breath on her doorstep and smoothed back his ears, but there was no denying from the set of her shoulders that she was scolding him as she did so.

Straightening up, she turned and went back to the mouth of the tunnel where three little rabbits sat as good as gold. It was only then Crowley realised why Aziraphale had been denied another juicy snack. There were baskets stacked with fruit all lined up neatly along the low table the little rabbits sat at, some almost overflowing with apples, pears, peaches and berries. One sat with a bucket at her rear paws and was hulling strawberries one by one, dropping the little green heads into the bucket. Another was chopping apples one by one, quartering them and slicing away the cores into a small pile of seeds. The last one was washing the pears, cupping them gently in her paws.

The whole scene was so soft and calm, even with the little rabbit’s abrupt arrival, that Crowley felt Aziraphale soften next to him, crossing his arms over the edge of the tree trunk and sighing gently.

“Do you suppose they’re making jam?” he asked Crowley wistfully, his eyes glimmering as he coveted the box of raspberries closest to them. Flicking his tongue Crowley could taste the tang of fruits in the air, and judging by the deep breath Aziraphale drew in, so could he.

“Or maybe some crumbles? Quite a lot I would imagine…”

They watched for a little longer, both sitting together in silence watching the rabbits go about their business. After a little time, the mother rabbit returned with a warm pail of water and a flannel tied to a stick. The little male rabbit made a motion as if to slip away but she caught him by the ear and tugged him over to it before setting about poking, prodding and pestering him through all of the rituals of a bath. His sisters giggled at him a little, but did not stop their work.

Eventually he was deemed clean enough and sent inside to get dry, the mother returning to help her little daughters with the day’s work.

Crowley watched them a little longer, but soon grew bored. He nudged Aziraphale’s arm, slithering his body off the trunk and returning towards the path.

“Oh, must we? But… oh, alright,”

Pushover, thought Crowley with a smirk.

They picked a path around the clearing, treading softly as to not disturb the family of rabbits, and Aziraphale pointed out a well trod path weaving between trees. They continued on at a leisurely pace, Aziraphale lifting his face up to the small snatches of sun coming through the canopy and Crowley picking his way between roots and small flurries of flowers along the path. Soon the canopy grew thicker and the light dimmed, the flowers giving way to moss and the occasional bramble that Crowley carefully avoided. A stillness descended over the forest ahead and around them, not quite silence but devoid of movement or birdsong.

“Maybe we should head back the way we…” Aziraphale trailed off as they looked behind them, and found that the path they had been following seemed to look exactly the same as the path in front - any patches of sunlight and rabbit warrens no longer visible. They stood for a moment in a pensive silence, within Crowley could practically hear Aziraphale’s thoughts as they played out across his face - a mixture of concern, amusement and curiosity. A rustle of leaves drew his attention away from his angel, and he turned to spot a flash of red well ahead of them through the trees. Footsteps became clear, crunching dry leaves underfoot.

Very soon a figure appeared not far from them, a petite one a head or so smaller than Aziraphale and dressed in a red cloak and hood. Aziraphale noticed her too, and gave a small and enchanted gasp. Crowley understood this immediately, and knew without looking up that the Keeper’s face was soft and glowing with feeling upon sighting this little person. It was well understood that the forms She had gifted them were the blueprints upon which She had designed her dear humans, and although they had seen a handful of wonderful creatures in their adventures, nothing had prepared them for seeing a real living person - a person with free will, wild thoughts, and an appetite for life only those with a limited time of it feel.

As the figure drew closer Crowley could see she was possibly female, if only signalled by her bare legs and the dress she wore under her red cloak, if not also by the brunette pigtails and freckled nose framed by her wide dark brown eyes. She was young, no older than an adolescent but closer to a child. He wondered for a moment if his form would scare her, but as she came close to them it became obvious that she was as unbothered by the appearance of a giant snake in the forest as she was to the appearance of an angel accompanying it.

“Hello,” she said, stopping in front of Aziraphale and shifting her woven basket in her hands. Aziraphale’s eyes were wide and shining with excitement, and he stammered over his words.

“Oh! H-hello,” he said, his hands wringing slightly in a motion that Crowley mentally translated into ‘Oh look! I’m talking to a human!’.

“Are you lost?” she asked him, unperturbed by his general flustered nature.

“Oh, um, yes, well, I suppose you could say that,” he got out, gesturing behind them. “The path seemed to have… well, changed, if you like,”

“It does that,” she agreed, shifting her basket again. “We’re not far from a signpost, I’ll show you,”

She turned her attention to Crowley and cocked her head a little to the side, looking him up and down.

“My, what a large snake you are,” she said, following his body along to his tail with her eyes. He said nothing - obviously - but blinked slowly. Apparently little girls were not scared of snakes of any size, maybe this form wasn’t scary at all. Maybe when the time came for the Earth to be finished, he would have to find out what humans actually found scary, just to be sure he knew.

“I suppose it’s all the better to cuddle with,” she said after a moment of study of his coils. “After all, what else would all that tail be for?”

Aziraphale beamed. “Naturally, a wonderful cuddler, I assure you,”

Crowley turned his head to Aziraphale with an air of bafflement, and also a little part of his mind yelling that, yes, of course this long body was for cuddling, feel free to try it, but Aziraphale chose that exact moment to ignore his gaze and turn pink at the tips of his ears.

“After you,” the angel said, motioning for the little girl to pass in between them along the path. He held out his hand in offering and she handed him the basket gratefully, the contents covered up by a cheerful red and white checked cloth.

“Where are you going?” she asked as they fell into step, with Crowley following along behind.

“I suppose you could just say we’re exploring,” Aziraphale told her, twisting to look at her as they walked. Crowley smirked to himself as the Keeper tripped a little, but couldn’t pull his eyes away from the human child.

“You picked a good place to explore,” she told him, pointing forward. The path was approaching a clearing with a large single sign post staked into the ground at a slight angle. The break in the trees illuminated the wooden boards that lined its length, and there were little white flowers growing at its base. They came closer and Crowley could see each one of the boards pointed in different directions away down multiple branching off paths, all with names painted on carefully.

“You see what I mean?” she said, taking her basket off Aziraphale and gesturing to the dozens of paths leading off around them. “Lots to explore, but don’t get lost again,”

“We’ll try our best, thank you so much,” Aziraphale told her, smiling. “Where are you going today?”

“To my grandmother’s house,” she grinned, reaching into her basket and pulling the cloth back. Aziraphale made another noise Crowley was able to translate into pure desire, and moved forward to peer inside. On one side rested a meat pie with thick buttery pastry, wrapped in bees cloth and smelling strongly of sage and onion. On the other was a pile of chunky gingerbread men, with chocolate eyes and gumdrop buttons. In the middle was a large sprig of lavender tied in a ribbon, and nestled underneath it flashed something sharp and silver.

“Oh, that’s… that’s a big knife you have there,” commented Aziraphale, his gaze interrupted from studying the golden brown gingerbread.

“That’s for any wolves that might be lurking around,” she told him, shrugging. “And for the pie,”

“Ah, of course,”

“Anyway, have fun on your adventure. It was nice to meet you and your big snake,” she grinned, and covered her basket up again. She waved and set off down her own path, her red cloak swinging with each step.

Aziraphale watched her leave, smiling with a fond glow in his eyes. Crowley watched Aziraphale instead. He could watch Aziraphale all day. Should he feel jealous seeing the swell of love in the Keepers face looking at these creations? Maybe, but he found he just couldn’t. Not when he got to be there in the orbit of the angels uninhibited love. This was reaffirmed as Aziraphale turned his gaze back to meet Crowley’s gaze and that glow deepened into a wide smile with the crinkling by his eyes.

“Oh, little thing, wasn’t that special?” he sighed, his hand loosely clenched over his heart, his robes caught between his fingers. “I… I never thought they would… that they would be like that,”

Crowley flicked his tongue, moving closer to Aziraphale. He understood what the Keeper meant, could feel the same excitement in his own chest, albeit more of an echo to the Aziraphale’s delight. He was rewarded by Aziraphale’s fingers skating across the bridge of his head, pressing with warmth against his scales.

“Isn’t She just such a wonderful artist?” the angel murmured. “Such wonderful, intelligent, brilliant creations,”

Crowley wriggled with delight, before turning away in pleased embarrassment. There was only so much pure unadulterated love a snake could take.

Looking at the signport, there seemed to be endless options scanning out in every direction possible. As Aziraphale joined him by the towering pole of destinations, the Keeper began to read some of them aloud.

“The Shire… The Crooked House… Hatter's Tea Party - ooh! The Chocolate Factory!”

Crowley would have rolled his eyes playfully, but he was distracted by his own series of destinations, some promising sights he couldn’t imagine.

The Dungeons… Diagon Alley… Toad Hall… Cair Paravel

“It seems there may be more than we can see in one day, little thing,” commented Aziraphale. “I don’t know about you, but that only seems like a good thing to me,”

Days on days exploring the forest and its treasures with his gentle angel? Of course it was a good thing, how could it possibly be anything other than good?

“You should pick, dear one, I picked blackberries and you were clever enough to find us the rabbits, so I know you will pick an excellent adventure,”

Crowley circled the post, but other than names there was no other information given in terms of distance. It was likely in this bizarre world that it didn’t matter much, he felt confident that the library wouldn’t leave them walking for long before offering them up another wonder.

With this in mind, he chose from among the first Aziraphale had read out, followed the arrow of the sign and set off in a manner he hoped would make it obvious for Azriaphale to follow him. He was correct in two things: firstly, that Aziraphale followed him, and secondly, that the strange magic of the library didn’t make them wait long.

The path wound up the side of a small hill, the trees becoming thinner and bendier with soft draping leaves that trailed down and tickled Crowley. The sunlight was softer now, more of a hazy glow of late afternoon. Reaching the peak of the hill, they found themselves looking down into another clearing, one which seemed to contain a much more lively scene than others they had stumbled across.

The whole clearing was crisscrossed with strings of lights, with hanging brightly coloured lanterns that increased the warm glow of the whole scene immensely. Paper chains were randomly thrown into the fruit trees that lined the area, a sign that someone had taken great care to create the linked chains, and someone else had taken no care in arranging them. Under this canopy of lights there was a long table, which apparently seemed to be a procession of smaller tables of varying widths and heights arranged into one long table and covered with an enormous pink tablecloth. Positioned around the table were a wide variety of chairs, from wicker garden chairs to overstuffed chintz armchairs and even the occasional deckchair. Some of these chairs had occupants, but the majority were vacant. Whilst Crowley studied the occupants with narrowing gold eyes, Aziraphale seemed entirely focused on the many, many overburdened plates and saucers on the table.

“Oh, little thing, look!”

Every inch of the table was covered in brightly coloured teapots and stacked towers of teacups and saucers, none of the china matching and some of them cracked and leaking tea onto the tablecloth. In between the numerous teapots were plates and tiered trays stacked high with dozens of examples of finger foods. It was these finger foods in particular that Aziraphale seemed focused on, and Crowley couldn’t blame him, for the majority of them appeared to be miniature versions of the cakes, pies and desserts he had been reciting to Crowley with great joy in the library. Tiny cupcakes with rainbow spotted wrappers and swirled icing, mountains of buttery pastries striped with chocolate, a pyramid of perfectly curved meringue shells in every colour imaginable.

Whilst Aziraphale composed himself, Crowley returned to his study of the party occupants. The central figure seated at the head of the table was an oddly proportioned man with an oversized head - or at least, he assumed it was oversized, maybe She did intend for the males to appear different - topped with a large velvet bottle green top hat, with some artefacts arranged in the ribbon. He was dressed in clashing colours, with a mustard waistcoat and high-waisted slacks which appeared liberally stained with tea. Whilst all of this suggested the man in the top hat was perhaps a little strange, it was the enormous yellow bowtie with haphazard red polka dots that confirmed he must have been just a little mad.

The host was obviously in the middle of a long speech, gesturing wildly with an empty cup of tea in one hand and the other unable to rest in between pointing, fluttering, adjusting his hat or tie, or occasionally curling into a fist for emphasis. His guests seemed to be unmoved by his speech, although they appeared to be unmoved by anything. One was a larger version of the rabbits they had seen earlier, although with usually elongated proportions and long grey wiry hair frizzling away from his body, giving the illusion of a hare struck by lightning. He had several ears of corn stuck into his coarse hair, and a few remnants of brambles and hay attached to his person, whether rumpled into his cranberry red patchworked coat, or waving along with every slow bored blink of his eyelashes. The hare was at least sitting upright with his eyes open, which was an improvement on his neighbour, a much smaller animal with short soft hair who appeared to be slumped into the highchair it was propped up against and completely asleep.

“How curious,” murmured Aziraphale, his face close to Crowleys to whisper. Crowley flicked his tongue out, angling it to press briefly against the angel’s cheek. “Do you think they would mind… additional guests?”

Crowley fought a smirk, and gave out a low hiss of amusement instead. Making the decision for his indecisive friend, he uncoiled and began to move down the slope towards the party. As he got closer, it became clear that the host was lecturing his guests on the importance of saucers, and how a great many cups had lived ling without a saucer, and by gum, it was their duty to see to it that every saucer had a cup of any size, colour, pattern or purpose.

It was the hare who saw them first, Crowley leading the helm while Aziraphale covered the rear.

“Ah, new guests! Please, come, join us! Please!”

The Hatter at the end of the table stopped mid sentence and looked thunderously towards them at having his speech disrupted, but the storm clouds lifted quickly as he saw two new guests to educate.

“Welcome, welcome, come and sit!”

Aziraphale - pink with pleasure for the interaction of more of Her genius devices - sank into a low and enthusiastically springed armchair made of a violent yellow velvet intertwined with roses. He sat back a little too far and was unable to reach the table, so quickly reseated himself and his eyes grew ever wider at being face level with the afternoon tea. Beside him, Crowley slithered up onto a stool and arranged himself in an artful coil, the stool not having enough space to accommodate his tail, but kept him within reach of the Keeper and nearly directly in the eye line of the newly awoken dormouse who glared at him suspiciously (and sleepily).

“Come, guests, tell us your names!” insisted the Hatter, “But only if they are completely new names,”

“Yes, we won’t do with reused names, simply won’t do!” agreed the March Hare.

“Oh!” said Aziraphale, tearing his gaze away from the finger sandwiches. “But whyever for?”

“For we won’t go sharing them about, too greedy if you should want for more names than others,”

“Precisely!” agreed the Hatter, stirring his tea with his finger.

Crowley glanced sideways as his companion, and saw that Aziraphale’s face was crumpled up in mild confusion, but his fingers had laced in a way that he could sense a debate coming on.

“Is it greedy for two to have the same name? Or is it greedy for one to have two or more names?” he offered, leaning forward a little.

“It is greedy to do any of the above, phonetically glutinous!”

Aziraphale opened his mouth to pursue the point, still confused and a little ruffled by the ridiculousness of the conversation, but he closed it again. He looked at Crowley with an odd expression, but Crowley did the snake equivalent of a shrug.

“What are you celebrating?” Aziraphale diverted, with a note of hope in his voice. “Is it a party?”

“Why of course!” agreed the Hatter, “Why else would we be drinking so much wine?”

“Oh! But I don’t see any wine,”

Crowley glanced at Aziraphale again, who now was looking utterly forlorn at the absence of the wine.

“That’s because there isn’t any,” said the March Hare.

“Why would you say you were drinking wine when you only have tea on the table?”

“Because it’s rude to sit at a party’s table without being invited!”

“But we were invited, you invited us,” “Rightly so!” interjected the Dormouse, glaring at Crowley through the handle of a large duck shaped teapot. Crowley ignored the mouse, but kept it in his side-view in case it did anything stupid. Aziraphale sighed heavily, and leaned back into his chair a little, and flashed a look at Crowley that he interpreted as ‘maybe She hasn’t worked out all the kinks yet’. In return Crowley blinked slowly and flicked his tongue at the Keeper, before looking meaningfully at the cakes. If they could make no sense at the table, they may as well eat.

“May I?” asked Aziraphale, straightening a bit and gesturing at the tiered tray of cupcakes in front of him. He didn’t wait for a response, and reached out for a little finger sized puff of cake with a long stripe of icing along it. Crowley waited for the cake to disappear and for the long waited moan of pleasure his angel would give on finally tasting his beloved sweet treats.

This expectation was almost immediately dashed, as Aziraphale lifted the cake to his mouth but then stopped and inspected it closely.

“What kind of party celebrates with stones painted like cakes?” he asked, partly to himself and partly to the collected audience. Crowley came closer to look. The ‘cake’ was in fact a smooth river rock painted to resemble sponge and topped with a chalky paste for the icing. The sprinkles appeared to be coloured in wood chips. Crowley could feel his angel’s disappointment keenly, and watched as he morosely placed the rock back onto the table. Examining the remainder of the tier revealed macaroons made of old doorknobs stuck together with jam, finger sandwiches comprised of pieces of paper glued together and chocolate kisses that were most certainly mud. Crowley slithered onto the table to investigate the remaining plates, with a dim hope that maybe there was something present he could offer to his angel.

“Only the best rocks for this party, for we only have it once a day!” said the Hatter, with what seemed like an out of proportioned sense of pride.

“What do you do with them if not eat them?” asked Aziraphale, getting exasperated. His eyes followed Crowley’s investigations, with the kind of pout that melted ice.

“If we ate them then how could we share them?”

“Share them? Oh good Lord…” sighed Aziraphale heavily, sinking back into his chair and covering his face with one hand. Crowley returned to his angel and slithered across the arm of the chair, dragging his tail against the Keeper’s sleeve in what he hoped conveyed some comfort. “Are you sure there isn’t any wine?” he asked, with his last little shred of hope.

“Why have wine when you could have tea?!” laughed the March Hare, standing to pour himself another cup to one side of his already full cup.

“And why have cake when you could have rocks?” agreed the Hatter, now using one of the paper sandwiches to stir his tea.

“And why have sense when you could have bafflement?” moaned Aziraphale under his breath, with a frustrated tone and a roll of his eyes as he stood. “Come along, little thing, let’s take our leave,”

Crowley hissed in agreement and they left the tea party behind them, neither looking back.

“And why have guests when you could have riddles?” came from somewhere behind them.

“And why have answers when you can have questions!” came a response.

As they came to the edge of the clearing and started along the path, Aziraphale fell into step beside Crowley and sighed heavily. Crowley stopped and looked up at his angel, who looked very tired and disappointed. Upon meeting his gaze, the angel smiled gratefully and Crowley felt the familiar warmth spread out under his scales.

“You know, I do love your company, little thing,” Aziraphale sighed. “I am very thankful to have you close,”

Crowley wriggled a little in delight. Aziraphale reached his hand down and cupped his fingers carefully under Crowley’s jaw, rubbing his thumb along the ridge at his snout. Crowley flicked his tongue out and traced it along Aziraphale’s inner wrist, enjoying both of the familiar scent of his angel as well as a shiver brought forth by his tickle.

“Why have nonsensical wonders when one could have a companion like you?”

Crowley was set to wriggle again, but this was interrupted by Aziraphale’s follow up.

“Intelligent, observant and blissfully quiet,” sighed the angel happily, before removing his hand and setting off along the path. Crowley stared after him, indignant. He hissed lightly, lowering himself back down the earth and sulking as he followed the angel back towards the library.

“That’ss what you think.”

Following their return to the silent shelves and endless corridors of the library, it was agreed by Aziraphale and seconded by Crowley’s flicked tongue that Crowley would be choosing the next adventure, and possibly the one after that, since Aziraphale felt that the Tea Party arrangement hadn’t really panned out how he had hoped, whereas his beloved little thing seemed to have struck gold more than once. It was also agreed that they would choose very carefully which creations they engaged with, as they weren’t sure if the quality of conversation was really up to par at this stage of creation.

“I’m sure She’ll have all the oddities fixed by the time it all gets going,” assured Aziraphale, but there was a slight frown buried in his brow, an odd expression that Crowley knew translated into more of a hope than a certainty.

There was no need for either of them to be concerned, but of course they weren’t aware of that. It would be quite some time before Aziraphale would finally be able to locate and cross off Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland from the shelves of the children’s literature section. By this time, they had already discovered so much more than they had hoped for, and were feeling a lot more confident that when they finally got to meet a human, if they were ever required on Earth, that the whole affair would probably be more like a mundane version of babysitting rather than a Mad Hatter’s tea party.

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