#it's (mostly) really only for things that have yeast in them!

[sergle]

Do you think "biscuits" could be the british cookies? would kneading that make sense?

still no dice!! british biscuits are more shortbread-cookie adjacent, which are similar to american biscuits in the sense that you don't want them to be chewy (so you don't want to knead it), and you don't want the butter to melt before you bake them (so you don't want to over-handle it)

[jpitha]

You can have a little lye as a treat

“I want to make Maya her favorite food, can you help?” Limmie looks over the table in the canteen at Peggy, the only other human she knows here.

“Uh, maybe Lim, what’s her favorite food? Also, you know that most human foods…”’

“Are toxic to me, yes I know. This one doesn’t seem to bad though? It’s mostly wheat. I can eat wheat, though I shouldn’t eat too much. It’s just wheat and water, some sugar, yeast and salt.”

Peggy thinks a moment. “Some kind of bread?”

Limmie’s nod is so vigorous her ears flutter. “Yeah, something called a pretzel”

“So… that’s not all that’s involved in pretzels.” Peggy stands. “But, I think we can work something out. Come on, let’s sign out a kitchenette.”

A few days later, Limmie comes to the kitchenette that Peggy signed out. They get it for a whole day, which surprised Limmie. “It’s just bread right? Why do we need it for a whole day?”

“Well, we have to give time for the yeast to work.” Peggy is wearing an apron that says “Let’s Get Baked!” And has a cartoon of a bread loaf with bloodshot eyes. She’s getting bowls out and arranging things on the steel table in front of her. “Her favorite is German pretzels?”

“That’s right. She said that she misses them because only her Grandmother makes them right. She sounded so wistful.” Limmie washes her hands, and as she dries them, Peggy hands her a smaller apron. On the front is written “Made from Scratch!” And has a cartoon K’laxi showing their claws. Limmie looks at Peggy who is trying very hard not to laugh. She puts the apron on and flicks her ears in a grin.

Peggy spend the time showing Limmie what to do to make the dough, but she doesn’t do it. It’s for Limmie’s girlfriend, so she does the work. She mixes the flour and the water and the yeast and while is proofs, Peggy explains how the yeast works and what it’s doing. Limmie leans in close and smells the yeasty smell and is amazed that human foods can get this… complicated.

Soon enough the bread has risen and been punched down and shaped and… Peggy is putting on a large rubber apron, heavy gloves and a face shield. Limmie stands back “Uh, Peggy, what are you doing?”

“Oh, the pretzels aren’t done yet, they need a Lye bath.”

“What’s that?”

Peggy’s voice is slightly muffled from the shield. “Oh, Lye is a human word for Sodium Hydroxide, a very strong alkaline chemical. It is quite caustic to organic tissue.”

Limmie takes an unconscious step back. “But, what are you doing then? You’re going to ruin our bread!”

“No no, this is an important step. The pretzels won’t look or smell or taste right unless we dip them in lye.”

“You’re going to DIP the pretzels into a strong alkaline solution?”

Peggy turns, holding another rubber apron, gloves, and face shield. “No. You’re going to.”

“This isnt’ a joke? You’re not trying to make fun of me for not understanding human cookery? You really have to dip the pretzels in that caustic chemical?”

Peggy lifts up her face shield. Her eyes are kind. “Limmie, I would never do that to you. I promise, this will make the pretzels just like how Maya remembers them.”

Tail flicking, Limmie takes the PPE from Peggy. “How do I put this on?”

“I’ll show you, come here.”

****

“Oh gosh Limmie, these are perfect! Where did you get them?” Maya’s eyes are squeezed shut in bliss as she chews the warm pretzels. “They taste just like the ones Nana made!”

“Peggy helped me make them. She showed me exactly what to do, but I did the work.”

Maya swallows and looks at Limmie, eyes wide. “You made these? You made German Pretzels with the lye bath and everything?”

Limmie falls into Maya’s arms and snuggles down into her chest. “Of course I did. I had to wear some personal protective equipment, but Peggy showed me how to be careful and she explained we needed the lye to get it just right. I wanted to make something just for you that I knew you’d love.”

Maya squeezes Limmie and strokes her ears. “They’re wonderful hon. Thank you.”

[somegirlontheinternet135]

NO ONE F*CKING TOUCH ME!!!

Alright, I know a lot of ppl weren't the biggest of the last Beast Yeast update, and to that I say it's understandable, they could've done a lot more with what they had in my opinion. . . But from just the first trailer alone, this looks really redeemable!!

For now, let's hope it's better than what we got last time!

You already know the jist, time for predictions!~✨ (Of course, spoilers ahead for the trailer!)

Given we now have Cacao heading off to Beast Yeast with his gang, I suspect that this'll be a common thing throughout the future Beast Yeast updates, with Hollyberry and Golden Cheese probably coming to Beast Yeast and meeting the owners of their respective soul jams

This'll probably end in them reuniting and creating some touching moments, before the final battle with Dark Enchantress (and or the Beasts)

But that doesn't mean we should leave everything in the last Beast Yeast update as after thoughts. From the 3rd Anniversary interview devs did, they confirm that Shadow Milk Cookie will be a looming threat within the Beast Yeast saga, though it is mostly unknown to us how. We do have a decent idea of what is to come

Back to the update, I think it'd be kinda cool, and very fitting, to have each of the characters represent the 5 stages of grief, with Mystic Flour representing death itself. I took a liking to this idea because firstly, death is a very present theme within the update so far, and secondly it's due to one scene; you know it, you love it, the Thanos snap scene! Within those short seconds of our favorites turning into dust(or well flour) we have Crunchy Chip yelling out to his majesty, practically begging for his life how "he doesn't want to be sick!" as everyone else accepts their fates

More on the subject, that'd be another interesting thing to see in this update, seeing Chip placed in such a vulnerable position like this could introduce a side to his character we've only briefly seen. As yes, this isn't the first time we see Chip get jumpy around the idea of death; if we turn back time, back to the Odessey, when the gang meets Seaweed Cookie, he's horrified by the fact they were walking over corpses (aka cookie crumbs) And this doesn't go unnoticed either, as he gets called out by Wildberry, which causes him to backtrack. I wouldn't even be surprised if his implicated fear of death may be part of the reason he's the Crunchy Chip we know & love today, maybe he uses his relationship with wolves as a means of protecting himself? Wolves are an apex predator after all! Will this add anything to the story? Possibly not, but would it flesh out Crunchy Chip as a character? Absolutely! (Sorry for the tangent, I thought this was all worth talking about cause it's such a cool idea!)

Now, we can't go anywhere without discussing the massive elephant in the room. . . Dark Choco Cookie's sudden return. Unlike most things, we do have a good idea of why he decided to follow his dad & come back. Firstly, it's a update focusing on Dark Cacao Cookie and his kingdom, it's a no brainer Choco would show up. Secondly from the Warm Together update, we know that he's been healing alone for a long time, so logically speaking, he wants to reconcile with his father, once & for all. And this is just my idea, but it'd really be cool to see Cacao & Choco work together in defeating Mystic Flour!

And that's all I got for now!✨ Surely, I'm only scratching the surface of what update has to bring, but I would say these are some solid ideas!~ Regardless, I'm super excited for this future update and the second trailer!!~

Please let me know what you think! Be on the lookout for my other projects And as always, stay tuned^^

[quibbs126]

Honestly if I were to ever rewrite CRK, first thing I’d do is streamline and solidify the timeline

Because I feel like there’s millennium long gaps in the timeline where nothing much happens, and it’s really vague when certain things happen. And also the lore doesn’t necessarily need to span across several thousands of years. I mean I’m pretty sure actual human civilization hasn’t lasted as long as the lore of the Cookies has, and they had to be made by Witches first

Not only this but as I’ve referred to before, while the Ancients have been established as living for thousands of years, they’re still too young to have witnessed other known important eras in the timeline aside from making their kingdoms and the Dark Flour War (which even some mortals still are around to remember), such as the Beasts or the disappearance of the Witches. Which to me feels like their longevity is mostly inflated to make them sound older, despite it not meaning much in the grand scheme of things

And then there’s the inconsistencies as to when things took place in the timeline. Most famously, the Dark Flour War, since there’s information that tells us it was a very long time ago, but other information that implies that it couldn’t have been that long ago

I also have no clue when the presumed Age of Dragons was, or when it ended. The whole prehistoric era in Ovenbreak confuses me as to its presumed place in the timeline, but considering we’re talking about Kingdom and this was a very recent thing in Ovenbreak, I’m willing to consider that an alternate universe difference. But we know in the Kingdom universe that dragons used to be all over Earthbread but are mostly gone now, so there was an end to their era, but I have no clue when, especially since Tea Knight was there prior to it and was a factor in it. He may be old but as far we know he’s still mortal. Though maybe it’s not established because the dragons aren’t really focused on as their own storyline. Pitaya and the twin dragons have more to do with their respective kingdoms than their relation to dragonkind

I think I’ve rambled on a bit but you get what I’m saying. The timeline is…not great and it needs some work

Personally if I were to do it, I’d streamline the lore to take place over maybe a couple thousand years, and the Ancients are at most 1000 years old. Maybe I’d have them be baked right at the end of the era of Witches, and so their rise to power is like the start of a new era without Witches, where the Cookies pave their own path on Earthbread. Like when the Witches left the Cookie civilization was left floundering somewhat, and so the Ancients stepped up to lead their fellow Cookies. Not entirely sure how to fit in the Beasts and particularly Beast Yeast into this new story, but whatever. Also I’d probably establish the Dark Flour War as happening like, 70 years ago. And subsequently change all the information relating to it to fit in with that time frame. Maybe it could be a bit longer or shorter, but that’s the best time frame I can think of in relation to the Crème Republic elders, since that’s who I tend to base it off of

[yalbeunmin-hoe]

·་ ·. ִֶָ ݁˖ Unpinning at 55kg · ݁˖ ִֶָ་·.˖་ ִֶָ

(again)

How to deal with hunger ?

Drink water until your belly feels swollen and painful, like 1L at once

Drink a cup of strong coffee

Chew gums. It break fasts but it's better chewing 20 gums for 100 calories through the day than eating 350 per meal

Drink tea

Drink a LARGE cup of iced coffee

But what to eat when I need to?

Snacks:

Carrots, they're very fullfilling and perfect snacks! Cut them in into sticks and chew untill your jaw hurts<3

Rice cake! It doesn't have significant nutritional value but drink 500ml of water 15 minutes before, then eat 2 rice cakes! they're only 25 calories each

Milk. Has the best nutritional value of the list but I'd recommend the skimmed version, it's about 68 cals (200ml, vs 115/regular ver.)

½ apple

Diet coke. It SLOW down the metabolism, so drink 2 cups of water for each cup of coke

Monster Zero. Same thing as the Diet coke, so be careful. It doesn't make you fatter but doesn't help tj get skinnier as well

Watermelon. You can eat like 300g and it won't be 100 calories yet :3

Lunch:

For lunch I usually have two favorites, and both include egg whites! egg whites are about 20 calories each and are the healthiest part.

When my intakes is lower I tend to make a Brunch with: banana pancake, greek yoghurt, and grapes! (Pancake: 2 egg whites, 1 small banana, 1 tbsp of oatmeal flour, 1 tbsp of oat meal, yeast, 1 tsp of honey. 190 calories)

When I need to eat next to my mom, I like to cook cauliflower rice(1 tbsp of rice and cauliflower as desired), steam chicken, 1 egg white, tomatoes and zucchini~

Dinner:

I do not recommend having dinner, BUT if it's really necessary, eat something light. My biggest recommendation are cabbage and tomatoes:

Salad with purple and green cabbage, tomatoes, cucumber, onion, carrot... Add some seasoned mayonnaise and it's perfect 👌

cabbage soup. Really light, perfect for dinner

Tomatoe Soup. Some call 4n4 soup, it's about 20 calories and VERY fullfilling, by you need to sleep right after because your body burns it really fast

Potato soup with chicken and egg white! It's a bit higher in cal but definitely worth it!!

Smoothies! (Strawberry+banana, apple+melon+basil, mango, etc...)

Breakfast:

I eat mostly health foods, doesn't matter what but my favourites are:

Cereal Bar

Green tea with milk

Lemon and honey tea

Oatmeal with water

Omelete with fruits

Grape

Strawberry

Melon

Watermelon

Greek Yoghurt

If you can skip dinner, DO NOT skip breakfast.

Extra tip is exercising before the breakfast, then eat at most the amount you burned!

Please support me in my weight loss journey 🥺

I was BMI 16 in December but my family made me recover, now I wanna lose two times harder 💪💪💪

[sulkybbarnes]

Hello ! I have read -per your tags- that you are a fungi biologist !!! First this is very cool, second i have a question about MOLD if its ok :)

Can you eat jam where the mold has been removed ? What is the general rule if there is one behind NO eating bc mold or ok eating if removed ? Im really curious about it +is it true that mold can grow in your body ? (I had a pack of unfortunately moldy tobbaco and a friend insisted on smoking it and i had to use the argument that they would become Moldy From The Lungs to stop them.... but is this true ?)

Anyhow, thank you for your time and keep on fungin' <3

Hey pal! First of all, thank you for the question (and for thinking fungal biology is cool haha), it was absolutely delightful for me to get this. I wish people talked to me about fungi outside of work more often! 🍄

As a disclaimer: my work is mostly molecular biology work on Saccharomyces cerevisiae aka Brewer's Yeast, and occasionally Candida albicans, and neither of these is closely connected to the mold question. I'm by no means a food safety expert either, but with that out of the way:

The short answer is that I would not eat jam with mold on it, even if you remove the mold. I would say that the rule to go by is that if it's a soft food with mold on it, discard the whole thing. If it’s something "hard" like a hard cheese, then it's probably safe to cut away the mold and eat the cheese. I found this little guide that seems quite reasonable and helpful to me, and it’ll tell you more about what types of food grow mold and how to handle them if you scroll to the end!

The long answer: Molds, like a lot of fungi, grow multicellular filaments called hyphae (Brand & Gow, 2009; Brand, 2012) which are only micrometres long. Meaning that you would need a microscope to be able to see them. Think of them as invisible roots or arms that can spread through your food. The fuzzy, green/grey/white manifestation that you see of the mold is a “colony” or in other words a network of cells or hyphae (Miguélez et al., 1999) depending on the organism. If you can see it, it is because it has been growing for a while, and that most likely means that your food is already contaminated with the “roots”. And these aren’t harmless; because depending on the type of mold, they can produce mycotoxins. Mycotoxins are biochemicals the cell makes which can cause serious harm to your health (Gonkowski et al., 2020). They have been known to cause allergic reactions, gastrointestinal issues, and poisoning. This is all dependent on the type of mycotoxin and the concentration of it, and the individual’s health, but I reckon this is the case where you want to be safe not sorry. From Gonkowski et al: “It is known that mycotoxins may act on many internal organs and systems, including, among others, nervous, reproductive and immunological systems, metabolic processes and endocrine glands” (Rykaczewska et al., 2019). In some cases, bacteria can also grow with the mold and cause illness. So, the long answer also boils down to: no, don’t eat it, it’s really not worth the risk.

And, yes, mold can grow in human lungs if the spores are inhaled. Granted that is most likely to happen with immunocompromised individuals as far as I know, but! I would advise against sniffing it at any rate haha.

I'm including the references in the text and at the end for fun, in case you’re interested to read more about this or see the microscopy images in the papers!!

Happy and safe eating 🍄😊

Brand, A. (2012) ‘Hyphal growth in human fungal pathogens and its role in virulence’, International Journal of Microbiology, 2012, pp. 1–11. doi:10.1155/2012/517529.

Brand, A. and Gow, N.A. (2009) ‘Mechanisms of hypha orientation of fungi’, Current Opinion in Microbiology, 12(4), pp. 350–357. doi:10.1016/j.mib.2009.05.007.

Gonkowski, S., Gajęcka, M. and Makowska, K. (2020) ‘Mycotoxins and the enteric nervous system’, Toxins, 12(7), p. 461. doi:10.3390/toxins12070461.

Miguélez, E.M., Hardisson, C. and Manzanal, M.B. (1999) ‘Hyphal death during colony development in streptomyces antibioticus: Morphological evidence for the existence of a process of cell deletion in a multicellular prokaryote’, The Journal of Cell Biology, 145(3), pp. 515–525. doi:10.1083/jcb.145.3.515.

Rykaczewska, A. et al. (2019) ‘Imbalance in the blood concentrations of selected steroids in pre-pubertal gilts depending on the time of exposure to low doses of Zearalenone’, Toxins, 11(10), p. 561. doi:10.3390/toxins11100561.

[crumbs-and-creatures]

[Lore post]

Thinking about clothes, and how different kinds of cookies treat them, so here's a lore drop!!!

In order of how strict they are on clothing from "You'll probably see a few cookies without clothing while you're there" to "You will be arrested for showing an ankle" its like

Golden Cheese Kingdom

Cheesebirds raised her and they didn't bother with clothes, why should his kingdom have to? GC only has her clothes cus shiny and fancy!!!

Dark Cacao Kingdom

Cacaoians have a culture of communal bathing, so naked and half naked cookies(Especially kids and family) are kinda normal. Especially when there's a hotspring near a town.

Dragon’s Valley

They don't mind going nude as long as it has a reason, but do put some pressure on looking cool at all times. Usual reasons being that they don't want to mess up their clothes while doing certain things like hunting.

Unity

At least have your crotch covered, and cover your chest if someone around you requests, that's it really. (Many cookies keep shirts or shawls or similar on them just in case!)

Darklands/DE's kinda kingdom

DE doesn't mind about clothes, but everyone just kinda defaults to robes/mostly covering clothes and that quietly makes her feel more comfortable cus she was raised with PV, and both lived in the old Flower Kingdom which kinda said "dresses for all, no shoes tho"

Pure Vanilla Kingdom (pre-ruin)

Was kinda just Flower Kingdom 2.0, but they didn't legally reinforce it, the culture just carried over, and everyone kept PV as an example of how cookies should dress.

Beast Yeast

Yeah, better at least get your torso covered–leaving open spots around your wings is fine–and most of your limbs(last bit is more of suggestion)

Hollyberry Kingdom

Like Beast Yeast, but a little more strict, being most or all of your legs get covered(Does not apply to the dragons(Pitaya and Snaps) they're royalty technically, they can do what they want)

Crème Republic

Pants for amab, pants and shirt for afab at the very least or you'll get fucking thrown in jail. Unless you're Caviar, he can go tits out cus both him and his wife are Elders.

The order

Pastry almost got kicked out once for getting a belt and putting it around her waist cus she wanted more om the go storage ("showed her figure" too much apparently.)

[randomactsofpigeon]

Venting a bit

So in the latest "my life is a continuous series of unexpected disasters", I had an airborne allergy test a few weeks ago. I've had some persistent symptoms since I was very sick last July, and this was my ENT's next step. I honestly wasn't expecting it to show anything, since the issues clearly presented during and after the illness.

That said they tested for 32 things and I am allergic to 28 of them. On a scale that ranges from 0 to 6 with anything above a 2 being significant, I was a four or five on everything. So that left me flabbergasted. Mostly because I don't have allergy symptoms! Like I don't get stuffy or coughs or sneezes or post nasal drips in the spring or summer. I've had cats since I was five years old, I don't know that I've ever had an allergic reaction to cats, but apparently I have a level 5 allergy to cats?

The ENT is telling me I've simply been allergic to these things my entire life and what I consider feeling normal is not actually normal. I don't think I really buy this. But I don't have a good explanation for the results of the test either. It just all feels really confusing.

Anyway they're really annoying and result is I need yet another medication, I'm going to be on an unbelievably restricted diet for the next month and only gradually able to reintroduce items afterwards (for the yeast allergy), and I need immunotherapy shots weekly for the next 4 years. -_- Also replace my mattress, purchase specialized bedding, and have my entire HVAC system cleaned out.

Oh and of course I have to fucking pay for all of this which is just a joy.

This came after learning last week that my house needs $16,000 in repairs to the chimney and other affected areas, and also having a pileated woodpecker literally destroy part of my deck over the course of 2 hours today. Also finding out the transfer I had been discussing at my job for the last 4 months was denied and triggering a pretty bad depressive episode as a result. So I'm having a fantastic week over here.

[zeldaelmo]

20 Questions For Fic Writers

Tagged by my wonderful friend @bahbahhh.

__

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

77

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

484,215

My goal for 2023 was to hit the 500,000 and I'm positive I'll reach it.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Legend of Zelda, all games apart from Zelda I, II, and Minish Cap (because I haven't played them so far)

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

How to name a royal child

Stolen Kisses

Strangers in the Night

It's in his Kiss

Flour, water, salt, yeast, love

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Uh... in theory, I do. I love getting comments but I often feel stupid saying ten times 'thank you' in a row, so I end up answering mostly when I have something to say.

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

That would be Lonely at the Top. I don't really write angsty endings, but this one is hurt/no comfort as it tackles Link visiting the Light Dragon who doesn't even react to him.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Hm...I'm not too fond of the fanfic version of the perfect happy ending, namely, proposal, sappy wedding, and omg, twins!, mainly because I love the nuance life teaches us. What a happy ending for a fic and a character is, is so often much more different than the fairy tale version.

That being said, I'd still go with Strangers in the Night, just because the two worked so damn hard for their happy ending.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Hate is a big word, but I get negative comments and sometimes they are even personal, yes. Most people are lacking reading competence and/or don't understand how stories work. I mostly ignore those. Sometimes I complain on discord if it's very annoying. If someone insults me, I block.

I don't think that has to do so much with me, though. I have 1,346 comment threads on my stories. Of course, there are some idiots among them, that's life.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yes, occasionally. I think ten of 77 fics are explicit. Look, the thing is, I'm a story teller. So if the smut doesn't add to the story, I don't tell it. Rule of thumb is, that I keep it to a T-rating if possible to make the story accessible to most people. I only go for explicit stuff if I want to deliver some part of the character development/plot with the intimacy (or the lack of lol) that the smut offers.

Does that get me the most Kudos? No. But I'm not here for that or I wouldn't bother writing for 30 years old games. I'm here to tell a good story and have fun. :)

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

No. If you've read so far, I can tell you a secret as a reward: I find crossovers pointless. Ooops.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I am aware of!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not that I am aware of! But I'd love to! Big fan of accessibility!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No. I've seen a few writing collabs end in fandom drama or otherwise go awry, so I decided that I only collab with artists. I might try with something short one day, but nothing novel-length.

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

Take a guess.

15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

Ah, so I have a half-written novel in my drafts. A story about writer!Zelda and fanartist!Link who are also princess and beloathed bodyguard. I'm very determined to go back to that one after I finished The Promise, but I'm a little scared. The story is complicated and my thoughts are chaotic. I already asked @mistresslrigtar to help me work it out next year, so I hope we'll manage.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue and showing what's going on in the character's head who's not the POV character.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I struggle with simplicity sometimes, mainly because of the language barrier. I write something that's horribly complicated and I just know there must be a better way to put it, but I can't figure it out. Grammar is hard, lads.

I also have a weird relationship with descriptions. I love having characters interact with their environment but I loath big chunks of description. I plan to work on this during my traditional holiday self-study break.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

This is a weirdly specific question, but ok.

If you don't happen to write a book that's supposed to teach beginners the other language, then don't. You might end up othering the person who's speaking and that's something you don't want to dabble with lightly.

I already talked about accessibility: You will exclude people from your writing and you don't want that just to sound cool. If you must for plot reasons, make otherwise sure everyone is on board. Slightly different case if you actively hide something from your readers (and other characters), but that's probably not the most common case.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

LoZ

20. Favorite fic you've ever written?

I refuse to answer this. 77 fics are too much to choose from. I love most of them.

_

tagging: @mistresslrigtar, @airplanned, @jenseits-der-sterne, @silentprincess17, @deiliamedlini, @skyyknights

[clatterbane]

The next Redneck Brewing experiment in line!

It's like the infamous Peeps Wine, only more Swedish. (Plus more...and even more.)

Also, involving fewer undissolved eyes and less lurid color unless I add in some sort of food coloring myself. I did consider basically just using them more or less as a sugar supplement in some nice juice, but nah that felt like cheating. We're going 100% marshmallow rabbit here.

Yes, I actually ordered a kilo box of these poor bunnies mostly to do terrible things to them with hot water and yeast. Getting started a bit late, but hey. I really doubt longer aging would improve the results that much. 😅 The plastic tub should come in handy, at any rate.

These are not bad at all just as candy. I purposely chose the Franssons over a bigger brand because these don't list any vegetable oil or carnauba wax in the ingredients. Just a shit-ton of sugary stuff, gelatine, and a little sorbitol.

They also don't have any fruity flavor like the Cloetta are supposed to, just a more straightforward marshmallowy taste. This may be for the better or worse; we'll see soon enough, once I get my act together to actually mix it up later!

[bonefall]

American here: if clans did have unlimited access to wheat and bread, what clans would make what breads? My friends and I are arguing over it--i say Thunderclan and Shadowclan are the most USAian like and definitely would have fried bread and stuff but they saying no, Windclan would have it alongside funnel cakes (which is where I put down my foot, because they're the ones who introduced me to your blog, and they even agreed with you that yeah, Thunderclan definitely has sweet tunnelbuns. Why would Windclan have Funnel cakes?!?

Their answer: For the fat--they put powdered bugs on top.)

Anyway: What clan comes up with what type of bread if they had it?

The big thing to remember is that the bread by default has no nutritional value to Clan cats and tastes pretty bland. In general, Clan care aren't going to want to eat it unless something's done to it.

Disappointed that neither one of you realized the potential value of fruitcakes in ThunderClan, shame!

ThunderClan would not fry the bread though, because they don't have much access to flax. That's what you crush up to make frying oil-- but ShadowClan is totally on the table. Shadow and Wind used to battle back in the Forest Territories over a floodplain that grew a ton of flax, but Shadow's the Clan that really loves to experiment.

Only problem is that they prefer meaty stuff and spices. Maybe frying some bread and using mushroom filling, rosemary, dipping it in gravy perhaps? They'd still probably want a nice meat filling in there.

Meanwhile WindClan is VERY concerned about eating the bread, remember, because they invented them! They remember that the point of the crust was to get dirty. Harestar gets shamed for biting clean through his, it's a total faux pas, because they're thinking about how it's supposed to keep the food inside clean.

So WindClan would probably get really creative with bread-craft. Using it as plates, wrapping, just generally getting super artsy with it. Because they don't care to keep the bread edible, I can see them experimenting with food dyes before anyone else.

RiverClan meanwhile, they've got steady access to flax, and plenty of filling... but they're so snobbish about their fish. They've got that "raw fish is best for your coat" attitude going on. I think if they had a lot of bread suddenly, they'd mostly use it for soppings. Using it to soak up broth and oil, crackers for their fish soup, stuff like that.

This is also assuming they'd all start playing with yeast since they have sooooo much bread on hand. But be careful with it-- it's SUPER toxic before it's baked. It's why the Base Clan Culture Expansion cats don't use it.

[bloodyknucklesforme]

Please tell me more about Nina’s flat 🙏 I think it’s so cozy with fluffy pillows everywhere and maybe some flowers 🌺 is she into flowers and if yes what’s her favorite ones?!

Okay so it's a studio on the second floor of this older brick building. Price bought it for her but just tells her that he's owned it for years and doesn't mind letting her live there (Just secret possible dad things). I made this up quickly because I'm too lazy to open up Sims to design it.

The doors on the one side of the couch lead to a balcony that she never locks. Simon makes a habit of climbing up and entering that way to try and scare her into locking it. if it is ever locked it's because Kyle did it.

The walls are a light blue grey color. The floors are darker, cool hard wood.

Big light pink velvet couch. It's honestly a bit too big for the space but she loves that she can stretch out on it. The rug is a taupey cream color and her coffee table has a glass top. She has a big tv that Kyle picked out (and turned motion smoothing off for) and his old PS4 sits underneath it with games and movies.

Her kitchen is pretty decent. She mostly bakes so her little pantry in the corner is filled with different types of flour, sugar, yeast, baking chips, measuring cups, scales, anything you can think of.

Her dishes are all mis matched because she is a fiend for the Anthropologie sale section.

She has a smaller tv on her dresser by her bed so she can watch bake off in bed. No, literally it's all she watches on that tv.

She likes flowers but is awful at taking care of them. Kyle regularly picks her up new ones. She doesn't really have a specific favorite but she likes bouquets that look a bit more wild, like something you would pick yourself.

Her flat always smells good. It's like her signature thing. It either smells like a bakery or something just warm and musky.

Ambient lighting only. If it's day time the blinds and curtains are open to let in light but the moment its dark she turns on a couple warm lamps around the flat. She has those color changing bulbs and will change them if Kyle annoys her too much. He knows to stop when she turns every light in the flat bright red.

The screen between the living room and bedroom is a rattan and paper.

Her bed has an iron frame with decorate headboard and footboard. She has a lot of pillows and sleeps almost a foot down from the top because of it. Layers of blankets, a comforter, sometimes a quilt if it's really cold. She refuses to pay for heating because "I'll put on clothes or lay in bed. It's not hard."

She loves decorating for Christmas and hosting parties. She has a little faux tree that she puts up next to the tv and decorates it with little food ornaments. She got matching stockings for her and Kyle with their initials on them even though she either spends Christmas with the whole Garrick family or Price, more often times both.

There's a chair in the corner of her bedroom that is just stacked with Jellycats. Most are gifts from Kyle but she also loves getting the little bakery type ones. He squares up with them when she's not looking and has gotten scolded for punching them.

"He started it."

"He's a plush croissant."

[ecoamerica]

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

[jakeperalta]

The Bold Type for the ask game!

i still haven't brought myself to watch s5 after they let me down like that with 4b :/ but at the same time i miss them 🥺

favourite character: sutton

funniest character: sutton

best-looking character: i'm gonna go with kat but also.. all of them

3 favourite ships: sutton x richard was the only one i was really rooting for, but i did mostly enjoy kat x adena, other than that ?? idk i was never like super sold on any other relationship

least favourite ship: whatever that kat x the republican thing they had going on in 4b was

reason why i watch it: just so fun!! and i love the characters so much!! and where else am i gonna get a show where a whole episode plotline will be something like "this character has a yeast infection" and then another will be like "that same character is having a mastectomy to prevent the same breast cancer that killed her mother"

why i started watching it: i think it was maybe two or three episodes into season one airing when i saw gifs on here and thought that show seems very fun and they look like some great characters i want to get in on this

[wallpaper-inside-my-heart]

💛Smoshblr December Asks Day 29💙

top 3 trees:

Red Oak -> there are a couple of them in the forest of my hometown and they are so stunning to look at every time! ❤️

2. Weeping Willows -> now these I mostly see when I go on walks in the town where I study 😹 They just have such a calming and mystical vibe 💚

3. Magnolia! -> Both their blossoms and the wood itself is so beautiful! They may not bloom that long and often suffer from frostbite, but I'm always excited when I spot one at any place I visit! 🩷

top 3 flowers

Forget-me-nots -> such pretty blue colour! Plus I really fell in love with them due to "Elsa's Song" by The Amazing Devil. One of the few things I'm very certain about getting tattooed on me some day 💙

Hibiscus -> childhood reasons... I became obsessed with them after seeing them on the bellasara card pictured below... (I wasn't even a horse girl by any stretch, but this card series was def one of my first ever fixations as a lil kid) 💗

Delphinium -> a) they are extremely pretty imo and I always look for them when I visit a botanic garden somewhere! b) they are called "Rittersporn" in german, which is also Jaskier's official name translation in any witcher media around here 😹💜

bonus under the cut <3

top 3 other plants:

Ivy -> they may be incredibly invasive to a lot of ecosystems and even houses but like... they look so cool! And I love me a good corruption theme in nature 💚

Canola -> You might think after 9 months of research and experiments, I'd be sick of them by now; but it only made me appreciate them way more than before! 💛

Algae! -> okay, technically this is cheating, bc this is a) very broad and b) not even a plant; but I just love them, okay?! 😹💚

extra bonus shoutout: favourite microorganisms

(cause while I love plants, these are the mfs that I'm more likely to actually encounter in class/work)

Cyanobacteria! -> the true mvps of the microorganism world! Without them life on this planet as we know it today, would simply not be possible! <3

Saccharomyces cerevisae -> If you want a simple yeast experiment to go right, you can almost never go wrong with these lil guys <3

Methanobacteria -> despite the name they are actually archaea, not bacteria so vital for both catching and actually using industrial exhaust gases without letting too much methane get into the atmosphere (which is way worse than CO2 btw) although I cannot rec working with them, cause the ones I used produced a lot of H2S, which is not a pleasant smell to be around 🙈

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Second Flush

Part Three of Cold Snap

Cold Snap | Masterlist | Autumn Flush

Pairing: Old Western Retired!Christopher Pike x Reader

Rating: Explicit - 18+ only (Minors interacting with the work will be blocked)

Notes: *The term ‘flush’ in the chapter titles has nothing to do with skin tone. It’s in relation to the phrase ‘the first flush of spring’; ‘second flush’; ‘autumn flush’.

This was going to be a three part series but uuuhhhh now it’s four, sorry. Points of view switch between Christopher and Reader. There will be explicit content in the next chapter.

*Callin - An old west term for courting

Length: 6.6K

Warnings: Cursing; fluff; angst; point of view shifts between Christopher and Reader; Yearning™; pining; nakedness

Summary: You’ve been thinking, in your time at Baxter's Crossing, that you’ve wanted to be useful to someone that really needs you, and that wants you around. Oh, the baby’s grandparents were kind to you, of course, and had let you stay with them, but they already had a community. They hadn’t needed you. 

The creak of the stable door makes Christopher go still mid-chew, his heart thudding low in his chest. Casting an eye toward the door, he finds that the June evening is just beginning to dim. The days have grown longer, the light sinking into the sky later, with lingering lightning bugs winking the sun back into the dark. 

Christopher swallows his bite, pushing his chair back and walking slowly toward the back door. He’s reaching for the screen door’s handle when it’s swung open. 

Christopher’s heart stops for just a moment, his breath catching in his throat at the sight of her. Her eyes are bright with exertion; her dress and boots are spattered with mud (well, they’ve had rain this week—mostly light, intermittent showers, but enough to turn the roads around the house into a sodden mess); there’s a smile on her face the likes of which he hasn’t seen since the two of them were whiskey-warmed just two months ago.

“...What were you doing in my stable?” He finally manages. 

“You always gave Tango sugar cubes. They’re his favorite, right?” She asks, stepping into the cabin without invitation. Christopher just takes a couple of steps back to give her room as she hangs up her coat, sets down her bag, and looks around.

“You’ve kept it tidy,” She notes, and a little flutter of pride takes over him. 

“What are you doing here?” He asks before he can stop himself. She just plants her hands on her hips and turns to face him. 

“I never made you those sweet rolls.” 

Christopher looks at her, incredulous as she walks over to her bag.

“I’m sure I don’t have supplies for…Those,” He says lamely. 

“No? What don’t you have?” She asks, peering up at him from the floor of the cabin.

“Flour, for one.” His brows raise in surprise at the sight of her pulling out a canister of it.

“...Yeast?” A packet is produced. “Sugar.” Another canister. Christopher folds his arms, arching a brow. “Cinnamon.” A vial—and a smile. 

“You ought to know that I come prepared for these things, Mr. Pike,” She says before tucking all of the things back into the bag and carrying them over to his counter. 

“You’ll make them now?” Christopher asks. 

“I’ll make them in the morning if you let me stay tonight,” She says, rounding the counter and beginning to unpack the ingredients. Christopher nods a little bit, lips quirking with a smile. 

“So it’ll be equitable?” 

Her eyes sparkle, a sly smile growing on her lips as she shrugs her shoulder a touch. 

“Something like that,” She agrees. “Unless you have some objections. I’m sure there are rooms down in Enterprise.” She nods in the direction of the town. “Course, I’ll have to make it through the woods teeming with wolves first.” 

“You’ve done it before,” Christopher answers dryly. He’s curious to see if she’ll go, not that he’ll really let her. But when she raises a brow, he knows that she’s got her claws hooked into him…And that she’s never really let go. 

-- 

You’re careful not to be outwardly upset when Christopher offers you the rug again, but you’re relieved that he’s letting you stay at all. You’d gone in and acted with more confidence than you’d felt. You’d wanted—at least, you’d hoped that Christopher would take you in, and he has. 

You’re up at the crack of dawn—eggs collected, horses fed, and sweet rolls on their way to being baked. 

You’ve been thinking, in your time at Baxter's Crossing, that you’ve wanted to be useful to someone that really needs you, and that wants you around. Oh, the baby’s grandparents were kind to you, of course, and had let you stay with them, but they already had a community. They hadn’t needed you. 

You’re certain that Christopher won’t need you, either, and that he’ll tell you as much. So you’ll start by showing Christopher that even if he doesn’t need you, he could use you. That could lead to wanting you, in some mode or another—a maid, maybe; a friend, hopefully. Your eyes sweep across the tidy room, landing and lingering on the wool scarf where it’s hung atop his coat. You’ve made yourself useful to him before.

Of course, there may be opportunities down in Enterprise. You’d seen a sign asking for help at the seamstress’ when you were there last there, but it’s been some time. You’d have to reacquaint yourself with the potential opportunities. If there are none—from Christopher, or in Enterprise—you’ll have to get yourself back home. 

Glancing up, you find Christopher shrugging his suspenders on, fingers slipping over where they dent into his broad shoulders. You let your eyes sweep over him before you turn back down to the bread that you’re kneading. Christopher gets a couple steps deeper into the living room, and then goes still.

“...Have you already gotten the eggs?” 

“Yes,” You answer. “They’re the only thing I didn’t get at the general store.”

“Oh?”

“I figured you’d have some.” 

“...You made coffee?” 

“Mhm.” 

Christopher steps closer to you, dipping into your field of vision as he comes to stand beside you, watching your hands work steadily at the dough. His hand reaches out, grasping one of the things that you brought from the general store.

“Honey?” He asks.

You nod a touch. 

“Can’t have sweet rolls without a little sweet in ‘em,” You tell him, turning to look at him. Where Christopher had had a much larger beard last night, you find it neatly trimmed now. It’s too much of a leap to hope that he’s shaved for you. The weather is growing warmer, after all; you can’t imagine so much facial hair can be comfortable on hot days.

You glance over, spotting Christopher dipping his pinkie into the honey and raising it to his mouth. Your mouth goes dry as you watch him suck it between his lips, humming softly at the taste. Your face goes hot at the sight and the sound, and you turn back to the dough, nudging it aside and sprinkling some more flour onto the countertop.

“What’s that for?” Christopher asks. 

“Keeps the dough from sticking. Makes it easier to form it into rolls.” 

Christopher watches as you portion off some of the dough, sprinkling a little flour onto it before rolling it into your hands. The honey makes this a touch stickier than other doughs, and a little sticks to your palms as you slide it from your hands, tucking it into the dutch oven. You go on like this for a while, with Christopher watching as you fill about half of the dutch oven. Then he straightens up, knocking lightly on the counter. 

“I should go feed the horses,” He says. 

“Oh—I did.” 

“...You did.” 

“I woke up early, figured I may as well make myself useful,” You answer breezily, taking up another portion of dough. Christopher makes no answer, just leans against the counter again, folding his arms across his chest. Once you’ve finished packing the last roll into the dutch oven, Christopher says, “Let me,” As he takes up the lid and covers them. Walking around to the fireplace, he mutters, “May as well do something in my own home.” 

Your stomach churns with embarrassment as you wipe your hands clean on your apron. 

“Thank you,” You mutter, eyeing the clock to time them. 

“How long’ll these take?” 

“Maybe half an hour, forty minutes.” 

“You wanna go for a quick ride?” 

Your brows raise at the question before you give a small, bashful smile. 

“I don’t know how,” You admit.

“You don’t know how to ride a horse?” Christopher asks, stunned.

“No! If I did I wouldn’t have walked nearly as much as I did when I was with the baby. But going around with a little’un seemed like a bad time to learn.” 

Christopher grunts. “Half an hour isn’t long enough for a lesson, but I’ll teach ya sometime, if you like.” 

“That would be nice,” You smile, nodding as you take up a rag to clean the mess made from the sweet buns. 

“How about I make us some eggs,” Christopher offers.

“I can—” 

“I’m well aware, but I think you’ve done enough this morning.” The scolding is offered with raised brows and a mockingly stern smile. 

“Fine,” You mutter, sweeping the remainder of the spread flour into your apron. 

-- 

“How’s the child?” Christopher doesn’t look you in the eye as he asks it, studiously poking at his eggs. “She’s well. Seemed to be taking to life in Baxter’s Crossing well.” 

“They name her?” 

“Mhm. Margaret,” You smile a little bit. “Margaret Ann.” 

Christopher hums softly, eyes sweeping your face.

“You heading back to San Francisco?” He asks, and it’s your turn to look at your eggs. 

“I don’t quite know what I’m doing yet.” 

“No?”

“Nn-nn…I think I saw a sign for a seamstress needed down in Enterprise.” 

“Lookin’ to stay?”

“Maybe. Of all the towns I traveled to with Margaret, this was probably the nicest—in terms of finding help, and milk for the baby…And you weren’t so bad, either.” 

“You’re too kind.”

You glance at Christopher, smiling at him from under your lashes as he pops a bit the sweet roll into his mouth. He doesn’t let out the same groan as he did with your bread, but he starts to. Then he notices you watching him, swallows, and clears his throat. 

“Good?” You ask. 

“S’alright,” he mutters. You fight off a smile. 

“The next batch’ll have to be better if they’re just alright.” 

“Guess it’s worth a shot.” When he does finally meet your eye again, Christopher’s smiling. 

“I’ll give you a ride into town when you finish up,” He nods toward your nearly-empty plate. 

“Thank you.” 

-- 

You expect to take the cart again, but Pike tells you to hold onto your bag, helps you up onto the house, and pulls himself into the saddle behind you. His arms wrap around you as he reaches for the reins, and you pull in a quiet shaky breath as he presses close to you. 

Before your travels with the baby, you’d be a little more concerned with how proper or improper this all looks to others. But in your time with the baby, and with Christopher, your views on what’s proper and what you want have severely shifted in priority. 

The ride into town is leisurely and slow, and you take in the swell of green in the forest, the chattering and tweeting of birds, the rising hush of the wind. 

-- 

Enterprise is just as you remember it. It’s bustling and busy, with people rushing this way and that, in and out of shops and salons. Everyone seems to know Christopher, and the comfort you’d felt being tucked against him on the ride has shifted to nerves. You find yourself sitting up straighter, putting as much space as you can between you as you share a saddle. Christopher stops his horse in front of the seamstress’, swinging himself down before he takes your bag from you. You watch him set it on the ground beside himself before he reaches up, holding his arms out to help you down. You rest your hands on his shoulders, wobbling a little as you slid off of the horse. Your chest brushes his as your shoes clunk lightly on the wooden slabs of the porch.

“Thank you,” You mumble, eyes set on his throat. You take a moment letting go of one another, and you crouch down, grabbing your bag as you peer around him to the door. There’s still a help wanted sign hanging there.

“I can go in with you—” Christopher starts, but you shake your head a little bit, looking up at him. 

“No, it’s alright. I oughta do this myself.” 

Christopher’s eyes sweep your face a touch before he nods. “Will you need the scarf?” He asks. You frown, confused, and Christopher fishes into his saddlebag for the navy blue wool. 

“I brought it…” He holds it in his hands, fingers seeming to flex around it a little, as if he doesn’t want to let it go. “In case you need…I don’t know. Samples?” 

Your stomach twists with flattery and affection. “It’s a sweet thought,” You reassure, resting your hand on his arm. “But I’ve plenty of examples of my work in my bag.” You lean up, hurriedly pecking his cheek before you turn, stepping into the shop. 

–

The terms of your employment are seventy-five cents a day, six days a week, with a room to sleep in above the shop. You have the urge to burst out of the shop and throw your arms around Christopher in your excitement. It’s staunched by the sight of him discussing something with a young man. You wait in the doorway for a few moments, and only step forward when Christopher catches your eye and raises his brows. 

“So?” He asks.

“Looks like I’ll be sticking around for a while,” You admit, and thrill in the sight of Christopher's pleased smile. 

“Well then I oughta introduce myself,” The young man turns to face you with a wide, friendly smile, holding his hand out. “Jim Kirk. I’m the Sheriff here in Enterprise.” 

“It’s nice to make your acquaintance,” You say, holding your hand out for the shake, but Jim takes hold of your hand and dips his head, brushing his lips along your gloved knuckles. Your face heats at the gesture, eyes flickering to Christopher—only to find the elder man rolling his eyes openly. 

“Alright, Kirk,” Christopher slaps the Sheriff’s shoulder as he straightens up and lets go of your hand, “Don’t scare her off before she even settles in.” 

“You always taught me to be welcoming,” Kirk argues, turning to look at Christopher, “Can’t have law and order without a little politeness, that’s what you always told me.” 

“There’s politeness, and then there’s *callin’.” 

“Oh, this ain’t callin’.” 

“No?” 

“No, sir.” Jim turns to you, offering you that smile again, and a wink. “Though it could be, if the lady is interested.” 

“Alright—” Christopher starts, and you could swear there was a hint of warning there, but it’s cut off by the sound of another man piping up: “Sheriff. There’s been a disturbance at the saloon.”

The three of you turn to see a dark-haired young man approaching. 

“This is my Deputy, Mr. Spock. Spock, come say hello,” Jim directs.

“I’m afraid the pleasantries will have to wait. I apologize,” The man adds, tipping his head toward you.

“Not at all,” You shake your head. 

“Ma’am,” Jim smiles at you once more, tipping his head before hurrying off with his deputy. You watch them go, brow furrowed, and then look up at Christopher to find him frowning almost fondly after the two. 

“He’s smart as a whip, but he’s got a lot to learn,” Christopher says quietly. 

“How so?” 

“...Oh,” Christopher leans against a post, scrubbing a hand over his face. “He’s quick on the draw, but even quicker to shoot off his mouth. He doesn’t always think things through, he’s willin’ to die standin’ up…But he’s a good kid.” 

“What’d he mean, you taught him to be welcoming?” 

Christopher’s eyes flicker to you before he admits, “I used to be the Sheriff.” 

Your brows rise in surprise. “I thought you came to Enterprise for space.” 

“I did…Just didn’t get it right away.” Christopher clears his throat and straightens, tucking his hands into his pockets. “So, you’re all set-up here?” 

“Mhm. I’m gonna stay above the shop. They showed me the room, it’s nice.” 

Christopher nods, eyes darting to the storefront before he meets your eye again.  “I’m glad to hear it,” He says softly.

You nod, eyes drifting to his throat, then his chest.  “Thank you for the ride into town.” 

“Sure.” Christopher hesitates, and you glance up, finding him watching you with an indecipherable expression. He opens his mouth, closes it, and then smiles just a little. “Don’t be a stranger, huh?” 

“You just wait until I get my own horse, Pike.” 

“And do what? You won’t know how to ride it.” 

“Not until you teach me.” 

Pike chuckles, nodding, and agrees, “Not until I teach you.” 

-- 

It doesn’t take long for you to make the little room your own. You spread your quilt out on the bed, and rest the tintype picture of the baby that her grandparents had given you on the mantle. You’ve only enough clothing to fill half of the wardrobe, but that’s more than alright. You can make a few more, if you ever feel like sewing in your free time. The window has a nice view of the road, and you take the minutes before dinner to look at the main street as the sun sinks into the sky. You open the window just enough for you to lean out, and peer down the road toward Christopher’s home. 

You know he’s long since made his way home. You’re almost certain you can make out smoke rising from his chimney in the distance. You sigh softly as you hear your name called for dinner, leaning back inside and sliding the window closed again. 

Maybe he’s forgotten you already. 

Maybe he’s having one of your sweet rolls with dinner. 

--  

Work at the shop is so busy that you hardly get the chance to take a look at Enterprise in the first week. You don’t have a reason to leave the shop most nights—your meals are provided for you, and your room is comfortable. Now and again, you borrow a book from the shop owners. They mostly have sewing manuals and pattern books, but now and again, you find one of the secret stash of your boss’ among them—Pride and Prejudice, Persuasion, Frankenstein. You sneak down to read them at night, hiding in the backroom and reading over candlelight until you grow drowsy. 

During the day, you stop expecting Christopher to walk in with a rip in a waistcoat or a snag in his suspenders—something. But your day is primarily spent mending dresses and jackets for the townsfolk of Enterprise. Your employers are kind—they make it a point to introduce you to people that come into the shop. Everyone in Enterprise is very polite. 

The sight of Dr. M’Benga and Ms. Chapel makes you grin, and you practically trip over yourself, thanking them again and again for the kindness paid to yourself and the baby when you’d passed through only months before. Both are happy to hear that the baby is well, and are more than delighted to see the little tintype photograph of her. 

The first week makes you so tired that you spend most of your first Sunday off, sleeping. The second, however, sees you setting out in town early. Your employers are shocked that a single woman of your age chooses not to attend church. But you find that others in Enterprise forgo the service. You drift along the main street with them, trading polite nods and smiles as you take in your surroundings. Your eyes to dart toward the church as the bell rings. You can’t help but wonder if Christopher is in there, but choose not to stand by the doors to look around. 

As the sun begins to grow higher over the town, you find yourself walking in the direction of his cabin. Halfway up the path, you shove the sleeves of your shirt up, beginning to grow just a little warmer than you’d anticipated. It occurs to you, at that point, there Christopher may not even be there. You push on regardless. Surely there’ll be at least a horse and a few chickens to visit with. 

The sight of the cabin is a relief. Rather than knock on the door, you walk over to the pump, taking hold of the handle. The water is blessedly cool. You raise the water cupped in your hand and slurp it up before you dip your hand under the nozzle again. You wet your hand just a little more before sliding it up under the high collar of your blouse. 

“What are you plannin’ on leaving for that?” You hear. Your head snaps up to find Christopher leaning in the doorway of his cabin, holding the door open. You can’t help the fluttering in your stomach, or the smile that grows on your lips.

“That depends,” You offer, swiping the remainder of the cool water across your hairline to cool your head a touch. 

“On?” 

“What you want for it.” 

Christopher smiles a bit before he waves his hand closer. “Get in here before you burn up.” 

-- 

“So you like it in town?” 

“Mhm,” You nod. You slouch a touch unattractively in the chair. You can’t bring yourself to care about your posture just now; the walk has really taken it out of you. “Everyone is just so kind.” 

“How kind?” 

You glance at Christopher and find his eyes sparkling with a tease. 

“Incredibly,” You answer. Then, “Sheriff Kirk’s stopped by a time or two.” 

“Is that so?”

“It is. He had a tear in his waistcoat.”

“He tell you how that happened?” 

“No he did not.”

“Mm.” 

“...Christopher, may I ask…” You trail off in your nerves, but the calm, curious look in Christopher’s face spurs you on: “Why did you become Sheriff?” 

Christopher’s expression flickers just a touch, and you panic as he leans back in his seat. His hand rests on the table, fingers flexing a touch. 

“When I arrived at Enterprise, it was a small settlement. A handful’a houses, no proper main street, no general store. Everyone was fending for themselves. Bandits and gangs blew through once, maybe twice a week, just to burn down anything that was built. They killed the last Sheriff, no one was willing to step up.” 

“But you did.” 

Christopher nods a little, eyes set on the table. “There were people here, good people. M’Benga, Spock, Ortegas, Chapel…They wanted to make a life. I knew I could help, so I helped. We organized, kept the roving gangs out.”

“Did you ever regret it?” 

“Not for a minute.” 

You smile, unable to help it. 

“And why’d you stop?” 

“I was tired,” Christopher admits. His smile is a little tight as he says it. “Between the town, and the war…I won’t say I felt like I’d done enough. I don’t know if I’ll ever feel like I’ve done enough. But I needed a break…And the new crop was ready to help, you know, Kirk and Spock. I felt like I was leaving Enterprise in good hands.” 

“It’s certainly the calmest town I’ve ever been in.” 

“That so?” 

“Mhm. Don’t get me wrong, it’s busy, but I’ve never felt…Unsafe.” 

“Well, I’m glad to hear that,” Christopher smiled. 

“Why’d you settle so far from town?” 

“Aren’t you just full of questions today?” 

Your face went hot with embarrassment, and you lowered your gaze to the table. 

“I told you,” Christopher adds, “I wanted more space.”

“Yes, you mentioned,” You mutter, hand scrubbing across the back of your neck. Christopher chuckles softly, standing. You watch him walk back toward his kitchen. 

“You want something to drink?” He asks, rounding his counter. 

“Sure,” You nod. “Though I should be heading back soon.” 

“I’ll walk with you.” 

“Oh, you don’t have to do that.” 

“I’m well aware of that.” 

-- 

It becomes a weekly routine that shocks many of the good, god-fearing people of Enterprise. You forgo worship in favor of a walk up to Christopher’s cabin. You start going earlier and earlier in the morning, trying to avoid walking over in the heat of the day. 

Sometimes when you arrive, he’s not home, but it’s rare. The third or fourth time it happens, you look up at the sound of a twig snapping and hurriedly avert your eyes as you pull in a stunned gasp. It’s a few harrowing, silent moments as you hear him tread closer and closer. You’re tempted to look again, but you know better than to do that. 

“Wasn’t expecting you this early,” He mumbles as he walks up the porch steps past you. Glancing behind yourself, you spy his bare calf, the drops of water slipping down them. You hurriedly face forward again as he seems to twist and look at you. 

“I’ll wait out here,” You offer, studiously eyeing the basket where you left it beside your feet. 

“Alright.” 

The screen door opens and shuts behind you, and then the other door does the same. You release a stunned, nervey little breath. You wouldn’t say that you’re in shock—surprised, maybe. You’ve just never seen a naked man before. Of course you hadn’t gotten a good look; by the time you’d spotted him, he’d only been halfway across the clearing. But you’d managed to take in the sight of his broad, bare chest—and a few areas a bit lower down. 

You glance back hesitantly when you hear the inside door open, the knock of Christopher’s boot, and then the creak of the swing door. 

“...I made bread to bake,” You tell him, “I didn’t want the fire to make the cabin too hot.” 

“You hungry?” 

“A little.” 

“I already got the eggs.” 

“Okay.” 

“C’mon.” 

-- 

The two of you are a little awkward and stilted around one another for most of the morning. It’s strange—like you’ve both walked into unfriendly territory by accident and don't know how to make your way out again. 

Christopher makes the first pass at an olive branch— “This one doesn’t need to sit?” 

“Hm?”

“The bread.” 

You glance up from the book you’ve taken from his shelf. 

“Oh—No. I started making it last night, it sat for as long as it needed to.” 

Christopher grunts. He isn’t pacing, per se; he’s just taking a few steps away from his window, then toward it again. Then he stops, turns, and leans against the sill. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Hm?” 

“I said, I’m sorry.” 

“...For what?” You ask, glancing up at him. “You’re on your own property, you have plenty of right to be…As you like. I’m the one that ought to apologize, turning up as I did.” 

Christopher’s brows raise in amusement at your stilted answer. 

“Still,” He adds. “I seem to have shocked you.” 

“Shocked is hardly the right word.” 

“Surprised?” 

“...A little closer, but I expect I surprised you, too.” 

“You certainly did.” 

You meet Christopher’s eyes and find him smiling slyly. You smile in turn, unable to help yourself. You look down at the book again, resting your chin on your hand. 

“In all your travels, I’d’ve thought you’d seen more,” He teases after a moment. 

You scoff in embarrassment, eyes set stalwartly on the book. 

“Just…Bulls and horses and things,” You mumble.

“Tough act to follow.” 

You reach out on instinct, taking up the pepper shaker and lobbing it in his direction. He catches hold of it without missing a beat and strolls back to the table, setting it down. As he does, he rests his hand on the back of your chair, steadying himself. For a few moments, you feel the brush of his beard-roughened cheek, smell the salt of the lake he surely must’ve gone for a swim in. 

“...Haven’t you read this already?” You mumble.

“Not in some time.” 

There’s a moment before you feel him turn his head. Your eyelids flutter at the brush of his lips against your temple. 

“Read,” He urges.

“I am reading,” You mumble.

“Read to me.”

“Why?” 

“Because I like listening to your voice.” There’s just a moment before Christopher presses a kiss to your temple in earnest before urging again: “Read.” 

Your stomach twists with surprise, heart thudding in your chest at the tender press. It’s a moment before you open your eyes again. He gets a few steps away before you finally begin to do as he asked, though you have to fight to keep your voice steady. 

-- 

As the days grow longer, Christopher starts walking you back to town every Sunday. It’s not uncommon for him to insist that he carry whatever you’ve brought with you, if you’ve brought anything at all. On a particularly calm evening, as the warm breeze slips through the leaves, making them rustle and whisper around you, you take a chance, sliding your arm through his. 

You expect Christopher to maybe grow a bit stilted, or, in a worst case scenario, unwind your arm from his. But he just rests his hand atop yours where it rests in the crook of his elbow, and the two of you carry on walking and talking as if nothing’s changed at all. 

-- 

Jim Kirk makes one attempt to call you in earnest. It’s on a warm evening, when you’re escaped the heat of your room in favor of sitting on the porch. The Sheriff had happened past, but then he’d stopped and stayed, taking up the chair beside yours and chatting as you tried to read. 

Well, he strikes you as a sincere young man, and a sweetheart at that, but —

“Well, it’s not that I dislike you at all, Sheriff, honest—” 

“Thank you—” 

“But I…Well, I’m still new in town, you know, still trying to get my bearings—” 

“Of course—” 

“And…Well, I’m not saying I won’t grow awfully fond of you—”

“I’m sure you will—” 

“But…” The protest dies in your mouth as Jim offers you a dazzling grin. You huff out a nervous laugh before you let your gaze drop to your lap. 

“But?” Kirk presses gently. 

You’re opening your mouth to answer when you hear someone clear their throat. When you catch sight of Christopher, you feel yourself sitting up straighter. 

“Hi,” You greet, smiling.

“Evenin’,” Christopher nods, glancing from you to Jim. “Am I interrupting something?” 

You start to shake your head a little bit before your eyes dart nervously to Jim. You find him smiling still, a knowing smile cast in your direction before he stands from the chair. 

“Not at all,” Jim insists. “I just…I just realized I’m a little late to somethin’. Excuse me.” 

He shoots you a wink and a tip of his hat, and pats Christopher’s arm as he passes him. You watch Jim go with a small smile, relief flitting through your system. 

“What’s he late to?” Christopher asks, sitting in the seat Jim left empty. 

“Oh—I don’t know, couldn’t say. What are you doing in town?” 

“I was visiting with M’Benga. I was about to head back, but I heard your voice. Thought I’d come over and say hello.” 

“Well. Hello.” 

“Hello,” Christopher repeats, chuckling. “Did you have a good time with Jim?” 

“We were just talking, that’s all. Did your visit with the doctor go alright?” 

“Yes. He’s been considering moving a little ways out of town to give his daughter some room to run around.” 

“How old is she?” 

“She’ll be seven next week.” Christopher glances in the direction that the Sheriff left in. “So what were you and Kirk discussing?” 

“Oh—nothing,” You fib. “Just how I like town is all.” 

“Oh?” 

“Mhm.” 

“And how you like certain of the residents?” 

Even in the flickering of the lamp overhead, Christopher’s eyes twinkle with a tease. You bristle bashfully, feeling caught out. Before you can argue, Christopher adds, “The two tongues’ll be wagging—the sight of Sheriff Kirk and the pretty new girl on a Saturday night.’ 

“And the town tongues won’t wag at my conversing with you?” You bat back. Christopher seems to consider it for a moment before he shrugs and stands.

“Perhaps,” he concedes. 

You find yourself rising out of your seat in turn. Your body is still prickling with shyness as you do, but you suddenly have the urge to follow Pike wherever he goes. 

“Are you heading home?” You ask.

“I ought to. It’s getting late.” 

“Will you walk?” 

“No, Tango is tied up back at M’Benga’s.” 

“You still have to teach me to ride, you know.” 

“I know,” Christopher smiles, “But perhaps not tonight.” 

“Obviously not,” You mumble, cowed by your embarrassment. And then Christopher takes a step forward, lifting your hand to his lips and brushing a kiss to your knuckles. He does it so calmly, so easily, as if it’s something he’s done a hundred times. He holds your gaze as he does so, and you feel your mouth go dry, your lips parting just a touch in surprise. 

“Will I see you tomorrow?” He asks. 

“Of course.” 

“Bright and early?” 

“Perhaps not too early.” 

Christopher chuckles, giving your hand a slight squeeze before letting go. 

“Goodnight.” 

“Goodnight, Christopher.” 

--  

You don’t notice the whispers at first. Enterprise is populated by such lovely people that you don’t think anything of the way whispers start to follow you. You think, maybe, that some people must’ve returned to town and simply don't recognize you. 

And then, as you work on fitting one of little Rukiya M’Benga’s new dresses, you hear, “That’s her,” And then, “Pike’s woman.” 

For all that you’ve enjoyed settling into a new life in Enterprise, it’s reminded you of the prim and proper way that you used to live. You’ve begun to second-guess yourself, to consider what may be right before you consider what you want, most dearly and truly. You allow yourself to go still for a split second before you give the confused child a reassuring smile and return to righting her pleats.

“Do you like the color?” You ask, trying to distract yourself from the conversation still being carried out within earshot. 

“Very much,” Rukiya insists with a nod.

“You chose very nicely.”

“She has her mother’s eye,” M’Benga comments. You glance at him with a smile before you straighten up. 

“I can settle up now,” He adds. 

“Of course. Will we be wearing this home?” You ask, looking between Rukiya and her father. The young girl casts him puppy eyes, pouting with all her might. 

“It looks as though we will be,” He chuckles, gently patting his daughter’s head.

“Can I go look at the ribbons?” Rukiya plies. 

“Of course.” 

You smile, rounding the counter and drawing up the remainder of M’Benga’s bill. He glances in the direction of the gaggle still eyeing you before he smiles at you. 

“The chatter will quiet down one of these days. They just need something to discuss.”

“I don’t understand why they said what they said, is all,” You admit, passing the bill over for M’Benga to sign. M’Benga gives a small shrug and a thoughtful hum, but he does so in a way that feels suspicious. 

“Has he said something to you?” You ply. You simply receive another shrug in turn, a knowing smile, and a bid to have a good day before he turns to urge his daughter home. 

-- 

“You’re awful quiet.” 

You don’t answer right away. You take a moment to draw in the way the wind seems to push the water across the lake, the bobbing family of ducks and ducklings not too far off, and the lap of the calm waves against your feet and ankles as you dangle them over the edge of the dock.

“I’m sorry,” You finally say. 

“Nothin’ to apologize for,” Christopher says. “Just seems like you have something on your mind.” 

You draw your lip between your teeth as you consider that. You have a number of things on your mind. Most of all is the fact that leaving Christopher on Sundays is becoming more and more difficult for you; the comments of M’Benga and the people in the shop follow at a close second; the serenity and beauty of the lake is third. The sun is shining off of the water, and there’s a cool breeze that slices the July heat in two when it brushes over you. 

“Suppose I do,” You admit after a moment.

“Is there anything you’d like to talk about?” 

You glance over toward Christopher and find him watching you with a concerned frown. You flash him a small smile. 

“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.” 

“Well now I’m even more curious.” 

You hum softly, looking out over the lake again.

“I guess I’m just wondering about a few things.” 

“Such as?” 

“...Well how to ride a horse, for one.” You smile, giving him a sideways glance. Your smile widens as he chuckles. 

“What else?” He presses. You raise your hand, scrubbing over the side of your neck. 

“I’m not sure I want to bother you with it,” You admit. “It seems sort of silly.” 

“Try me.”

You’d love to—and that thought makes your skin go hot with embarrassment. You hesitate before you shake your head a little. 

“Not just now, I don’t think. Are you hungry?” You ask, twisting in the direction of the picnic basket you’ve brought with you. Christopher doesn’t answer right away, but you can feel him eyeing you critically.

-- 

“Will you tell me now what’s troubling you?” 

You fight the urge to pout as Christopher poses the question. Your steps are meandering and slow on your way back into town. You’re glad to take your time; lately you’ve felt exposed in town—watched, noted, spoken about. 

You don’t try to answer cutely, or say ‘tell you what?’, as if you’ve no idea what he’s referencing. 

“I’ve been…Discussed quite a bit these last few days,” You admit. 

“That so?” 

“Mhm. And your name has been linked in kind.” 

“How so?”

“There’s a supposition of a…Romantic entanglement on our part.” 

The admission makes you nervous and warm. You don’t dare look at Christopher, to watch how he takes it in and turns it over in his mind. But he doesn’t draw his arm away from yours, nor do you draw away from him.

“...I see,” Christopher manages. 

“I suppose I’ve been ignoring the potential impropriety of our association in favor of…Of seeing you.” 

“Impropriety?” 

“Christopher,” You sigh softly. “I know that this has all been perfectly chaste and so do you, but they don’t know that.” 

“Is that important to you?” 

You bite your lip, feeling nervous and guilty. 

“It is, some,” You admit. “I adore you and your company, but…But I’m new in town, and people talk. No one here really knows me. I’ve a reputation to protect.”

“...Alright,” Christopher nods a touch. You think that may be the end of it, but he says, “Then perhaps we ought to alter the nature of our association.” Your heart ticks up in your chest, and then cools when Christopher adds, “I’ll come and see you in town instead.” 

“But I like coming up to see you—” 

“And we can sit with Dr. M’Benga, or Spock or Kirk—” 

“I like spending time with you alone—”

“There’s no way for us to do so if you’re so concerned with propriety,” Christopher argues. You sigh, lowering your gaze to the ground. 

“What do you want to do?” He presses. You come to a stop, slipping your arm from his and folding your arms stubbornly across your chest. Christopher stops just a step or two away. 

“Tell me what you want,” He urges softly. 

“I can’t.” 

“Why not?” 

“Because—” 

“Because what?” 

You’ve done so many reckless things over the course of the last year—things that you needed to do to survive, and to ensure the baby’s safety. You came back to Enterprise for a new start, and out of pure, ridiculous hope. Now, your eyes flicker up to Christopher nervously. You know that he can’t read your mind. You’re terrified that you’re going to ruin the friendship that you’ve built with him, but you don’t know how to hide yourself from him any longer. 

You close the gap between the two of you, cupping his cheeks and drawing him in. You kiss him clumsily—your lips bump chastely against his; your nose mashes into his uncomfortably; your hands settle shakily over his beard. When Christopher doesn’t lean into you right away, you second guess yourself; you start to draw back. And then you hear the faint clink of dishes in the picnic basket rattling together as it’s dropped to the ground, and feel one of Christopher’s arms wind around your middle. His other hand raises, cupping your cheek. He tilts your head gently, carefully. You cede control to him without a second thought, leaning into his chest. 

Christopher kisses you carefully, as if you’re a wounded, nervous little bunny; as if you’ll draw away and cease to exist. His fingers curl covetously in the fabric of your top. You loop your arms around his broad shoulders, savoring the way he holds you, and the tender brush of his lips against yours, and the way his beard prickles and tickles along your chin and nose. 

The two of you draw away from one another slowly, carefully, as if either of you will scare the other off. Christopher’s breath brushes across your lips, and when you finally find it in yourself to open your eyes, you find him watching you wondrously. You swallow thickly, suddenly aware of the way your heart is pounding roughly in your chest, the heat of Christopher’s chest against your front, and his hand radiating against your back through your blouse. 

Your gaze flickers down to Christopher’s lips, plump from your kisses, and you hesitate before you lean in again, giving him a tender peck. Christopher responds in kind, chasing your lips when you lean away just a little bit. He draws you more tightly against him as your kisses grow deeper and more passionate. The sky is light, the afternoon sun peeks through the leaves over you.

By the time you finally manage to draw apart from one another and walk the rest of the way back to your lodgings, the evening’s gone dark around you. Your lips tingle from the kisses traded; your back aches a touch from where Christopher had backed you against a tree and covered your lips and face and neck with kisses. 

He gives your knuckles a final kiss at your door, and takes the chance of laying a gentle kiss on the corner of your mouth once he’s checked that no one is watching you. You watch him go on his way, and can’t help your smile as he turns to meet your eyes until he’s out of sight.

[dragonmuse]

aliassmith asked about today's AO3 posting if I ever wrote about Izzy getting hit by the car for his original concussion. I hadn't, but now I have!

Eddy had been waiting for the reckoning. It came faster than she had wagered on, mostly because Lucius returned to work faster than she expected. Then again, how many days would Izzy really tolerate being kept at home? Two was probably the best anyone could hope for. 

It was after closing. Everyone milling around, sorting themselves into whatever configuration felt comfortable that night. Stede was already sitting beside Oluwande, the two of them clearly discussing a number of some kind by the way Oluwande was gesturing. 

Lucius was still behind the bar. In his place of power. When Eddy emerged from the dressing room, he said nothing, just pointed to an empty barstool while maintaining the kind of eye contact that bored into a person’s soul. Eddy used to think that was an unteachable skill, but Lucius seemed to have picked it up somewhere along his way.  

Some deep rebellious part of them wanted to walk away to prove that they could. To remind Lucius that he didn’t have any power over them. But in a way he did. The same power that she held over him, if friendship could be said to be such a thing. So Eddy slid into the barstool. 

“How is he?” She asked. 

“Better,”  Lucius set a shot of tequila in front of them both. They shot them back in sync. “Still has a beast of headache, but he went into work today.” 

“Good.” 

“How does someone get hit by a car and not remember?” He asked, apparently not content to beat around the bush. 

“Because he clocked his head on cobblestone, if I had to take a guess. Not being able to retain it?  Probably some jedi mind trick of trauma,” Eddy sighed. “It was a bad fucking day.” 

“Tell me about it,” Lucius practically growled then winced and deliberately relaxed. “Please.” 

“We were...” Eddy did some quick math, reaching back in their memory, “mm. Iz was twenty-one, I think. Yeah, had to be it because he had the spade already, but not the swallow.” 

“That’s one way to tell time,” Lucius groaned. “Okay, so you’re both still enfant terribles, that tracks.” 

“We were on a job. Some tiny old town in Italy with these narrow streets. Me, him and Hornigold. The old man still went out in person back then,” they could feel the old irritable feeling at him rising just at the memory. “Got easier when he’d stay back. Anyway, the deal that the client was brokering went bad fast. I gave the guy over to Izzy to get out of there and covered his back.” 

“Did you guys ever have a job that went right?” Lucius looked like he was considering more tequila, Eddy pushed the bottle a little further down the bar. 

“You only hear about the bad ones because they’re the ones that leave the marks,” she corrected. “Anyway, Iz got the guy out of there, into the car and the car takes off, leaves Iz there cause the clients an idiot. Hornigold and I lay down cover fire. Then we took off before the authorities showed up. These fucking narrow ass streets...” 

They could remember the smell of the place, recent rain on stone, gunpowder on their hands and yeast from a bakery. 

“Caught up with Iz and then we were bolting. One of the other guys followed us. Couldn’t shoot with so many people around, so it’s a foot race, don’t even know where to. Hornigold just picked a direction and we had to follow.” 

Izzy had been cursing quietly, a litany of hate under his breath and Eddy had matched her pace to it. In complete agreement, but too close to Hornigold to do the same.  

“And then I thought I saw the guy. That he’d circled around to the top of the street. His hand went into his coat,” fuck her heart had stopped.  “And I made a decision. Got in front of Izzy, pushed him really. He’d stepped in front of me a fair amount by then. Seemed like it was my turn. He wasn’t even supposed to be there.  But he wasn’t expecting it, you know?” 

“Eddy,” Lucius said slowly. “Did you push him in front of a car trying to take a bullet for him?” 

“Yeah,” they sighed. “Stupid, huh?” 

Lucius dropped his head into his hands, “How did either of you make it into your forties? Truly a miracle.” 

“In fairness, it wasn’t a big car or going that fast.  Would’ve been okay if he hadn’t hit the ground head first probably. Wasn’t time to figure out if anything was broken. Just got him to his feet then took off. Headed right to the airport as it turned out.” 

“He flew with a concussion,” Lucius said flatly. “No one noticed?”

“He was on autopilot until we got on the plane, moving enough to convince everyone he was okay,,” she explained. “Then he fell asleep on my shoulder and I....honestly, I think I disassociated cause I don’t remember shit after that either. That happened back then sometimes.” 

“Eddy-” 

“I know,” she smiled at him tightly. “What you need to understand is that I was fucking terrified of Hornigold back then. Thought I wasn't scared of anything, least of all the old man,  but deep down?  I knew what he could do to me. To us. And he said no doctors until we got back. So no doctors.” 

“Fuck, okay. So he never got seen?” Lucius gritted out, clearly trying to retain calm. 

“I got him this underground doc that we had an understanding with. He was okay, said Izzy would be all right, just keep an eye on him which was easier said than done. He kept trying to work and it was fucking eerie as hell. Like he’d died and no one told his body.”

“And you just…let him?” 

“Yeah, Luc,” Eddy let him glare at him, “I did. Just like he let me get back to things when I was beat down. It was how we dealt with shit. He wouldn’t have thanked me for doing less. Even if it did etch-a-sketch him. Even a week later, someone on the crew tried to make fun of him for being whacked out and he had no idea what they were talking about. Hornigold blew me off when I raised it. Said he’d remember eventually.” 

Lucius nodded, like that lined up with something in his head. Eddy waited for whatever judgment he was looking to level. The story had been sort of funny once. Trotted out only when Izzy himself wasn’t around because he always got a little vague in the face when she mentioned it which had given her an uncomfortable twist in the gut. Now, it was like bullet fragments spit into the sink. No longer even a little funny, just metallic and nauseating. 

“Did you ever try to tell him what happened?” 

“I’d mention the hit by a car thing, he’d get confused and change the subject. So no. Not in so many words.” 

“Can I?” Lucius asked and it was almost…tender? Like Eddy was the one that had been hit. 

“Yeah. You should.” 

“Just to be clear,” Luicus reached across the bar and touched a single finger to the top of her hand, the lightest touch. “What I’m going to tell him is that he got hurt because you tried to help him.” 

“Tell him whatever you want,” she said as if nothing could bother her. Why should it? It was done. 

Lucius didn’t say anything else, just let her slip off the barstool and zero in on Stede. He glanced up at her, then frowned, 

“All right, honey?” 

“Just thinking some ugly thoughts,” she smiled tightly. “Can I sit with you?” 

Stede only nodded, then pushed his chair out so she could drape herself onto his lap. He knew how to hold her by now, how to anchor her against him, so she didn’t start slipping down the slope of his thighs. He knew how to bear the catch of her fingers on his shoulder, digging in a little too hard. And knew to go on talking to Oluwande, his voice a song in her ear. 

A day or so later, her phone pinged. 

Izzy: the reason your right index finger doesn’t extend straight was because I stepped on it standing over you during the McKat raid. You passed out. I splinted it. Never did tell you that. Even? 

Eddy flexed her hand. She had woken up from that disaster with more bruises than skin and it hadn’t occurred to her that she hadn’t busted finger punching a guy in the face the wrong way. Izzy had barely left her alone for a week. She couldn’t prove it, but she was almost certain that he was stealthily sleeping at her apartment, there when she got up and not gone when she went to sleep.  He had fresh clothes every day and no obvious stash of them there though, so plausible deniability.

Eddy: even. How’s the skull? 

Izzy: like fucking bees got in.  

Eddy: hope they at least make brain honey 

Izzy: my fucking luck i’ll be allergic

[ecoamerica]

Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!