#Cheese's personal molasses

[gottagobuycheese]

so tired, so cold, so totally worth the minor hypothermia

[Image ID: a faint photograph of the comet c/2022 E3 (ZTF), which appears as a vague greenish smudge with a slightly brighter central part. /end IF]

#out of context this is an extremely unimpressive picture lol #heck maybe even with context #but HOLY FREAKING MOLY #c/2022 e3 (ztf) #comet ztf #Cheese's personal molasses #THE J O U R N E Y TO GET THIS SMUDGY LITTLE THING PHOTOGRAPHED #the cold broke one of the clasps of the telescope's tripod so we had to shorten it all the way down and just sit on the cold lake deck #looking back and forth between an online simplified star chart the sky and the scope #meanwhile the moon is rising higher and higher and making everything brighter #so we're just taking random cool night pictures because even if we didn't manage to see the comet at least we got to see a cool night sky #then like an hour later my dad texts from 5 hours away asking if this one little tiny smudge in my housemate's picture is The One #then comparing everything we realize that that smudge is exactly where the comet's supposed to be tonight #so THEN we're both using the telescope at the same time trying to find this smudge #him with the tiny viewfinder and me through the main scope #many inadvertent head bumps #so he's telling me to move a little this way and that way to find specific stars #and I am totally guesstimating because his head's in the way of the viewfinder #but then we found it! #solidly smudgy and faintly green exactly where it was said to be #then trying to line up the phone camera with the telescope which is hard on a normalday but on a day with minimal light from the subject #darn near impossible #but by SHEER LUCK happened to snap this photo on the first try #we tried to get longer exposure afterward but couldn't manage it #fingers were frozen and couldn't see a thing and our other friend was freezing inside the car #so we had to bail #but WE SAW ITTTTTTTT #and now that we've found it I think it'll be easier to find in the future #dunno that I'll be able to line it up long enough for a longer exposure picture though #ahhhhh but I'm so satisfied right now you have no idea

[qe-podfic]

Check out the cover illustration for Chapter 2 of Quantum Entangled. Made by the wonderfully talented @commentdismal

So impressive. The rendering took my knees. /pos

Excerpt below cut:

Crowley uneasily drifted into wakefulness with a crick in his neck, a mild hangover making itself apparent via an insistent thumping at the back of his skull. The lingering stench of a headache was drumming inside his head like he was the unfortunate desk assigned to a kid with ADHD. All things considered, it wasn’t the worst way Crowley had ever woken up. It didn’t even make the top ten. That’s why, despite not knowing exactly what reason he had for falling asleep on his own damn couch, he wasn’t all that concerned. Slowly, like a ping-pong ball through molasses, memories of the previous night trickled into his awareness.

Aziraphale was here. Aziraphale was here and in his bed. Aziraphale was here and in his bed and wearing his clothes. At once, Crowley realised he had made a grave tactical error.

Drunk Crowley and sober Crowley were only the same person by virtue of the fact that they unfortunately shared a body. Currently, sober Crowley was cursing—quite creatively, mind you—the very notion of that unavoidable fact. Always trying to make the best out of a bad situation, he decided to approach the morning with an impudent unfuckedness. As the saying went: ‘Not fucked over was the one who was unfucked.’ (-Confucius, probably.)

Crowley checked his watch, surprised to find that it was no later than eleven am. He wanted breakfast, or brunch, or just a nice package for the calories he depended on to… Y’know… Live. And it would be rude, if he was cooking for himself, to not at least offer something to his—rather reluctant, he remembered, mortified—guest.

Each stride rendered as unfucked as he could manage, he made his way to the kitchen. First, he used his hideously expensive coffee machine (a ROCKET MOZZAFIATO—imported from Italy) to make one flash bastard of a latte, with the ultimate goal of kicking his A1 adenosine receptors into a more coherent semblance of order. E.g. not receiving adenosine.

Then, he took a wok from his large and impressive array of pots and pans, like a gallery of hung men above the island bench top, and placed it on his induction stove. The stove itself was seamlessly blended into the counter in such a way that it made people helpless to envision burnt hands and accidental emergency-room phone calls. The sleek black design (because Crowley could be sold on almost anything if you made it sleek and black enough) was self-aggrandising in the same way that many circumspect judges on certain cooking shows were. The kitchen as a whole, really, was a lustrous example of the kind of high-tech cookhouse you’d find in the back of a Michelin star restaurant. 

Grabbing a few eggs from the fridge, Crowley scoured for omelette ingredients that were both generally palatable as to, hopefully, not be offensive to Aziraphale’s tastes—whatever they were—and impressive enough to make Crowley seem like he, at the very least,  knew what he was doing on a culinary level. Sticking to his mantra of unfuckedness, Crowley picked out some bacon, cheese, and spinach, along with various herbs and spices from the pantry. Crowley liked omelettes as a general rule. The ratio of effort to edible nutrition was highly favourable—having spent most of his life as a university student with no spare energy to waste on frivolous flambés, brûlées, or any other such fancy French dish.

Making an omelette wasn’t a difficult process. There were two steps; step one was to put all of your ingredients (chopped or unchopped depending on how groggy you were when preparing it) into the pan. Step two was to wait. Heat and time. They were the universal duo that laid claim to the title of ‘instigator’ in most molecular reactions.

Obedient to this philosophy of unfuckedness, heat and time, Crowley chopped bacon, cracked eggs, tore spinach, and altogether cooked a damn good meal. With the two omelettes cooling on their respective plates (the plates were square shaped and black because Crowley refused to be acquainted with the typical agreement of things) he ventured through his cupboards on a mission for tea. Aziraphale seemed like the tea-drinking kind. Finding an abandoned box of loose-leaf French Earl Grey, the label slightly sun faded, he put the kettle on.

Proud of his domestic accomplishments, he set off to wake Aziraphale. He hoped the comestible peace offering would be a balm for any of the awkwardness left over, lingering, from last night.

“Knock, knock,” he greeted onomatopoeically, tapping on the bedroom door.

“Urmf—Crowley?” came the quiet reply, obvious in how freshly awake it sounded. Crowley opened the door, just a crack—not enough to see into the room but enough to let some light in—before chuckling mildly.

“Morning, Angel. I made breakfast. Tea is available too, if you want some.” There was a muffled sound of agreement, and then the distinct shuffling of someone getting out of bed. Crowley padded his way to the kitchen to give the man some privacy.

He was halfway through his own omelette, near-afternoon sun shining down on him from large windows on the east side of the kitchen, when Aziraphale made his presence known. With a curt clearing of the throat, he stood, unsure of himself, at the edge of the kitchen’s connecting hall.

Crowley was fucked. Oh, he was so utterly fucked. Aziraphale made an innocuous image, in Crowley's home, in Crowley's clothes; but that did not stop the racing ambitions of Crowley's mind. Aziraphale wasn't to know this, though. The Queen shirt hung loose on him, gently draping over one shoulder but leaving the other exposed. Crowley felt like a Victorian—or the man responsible for the dress codes of high school girls—scandalised at the revelation of flesh. He reprimanded himself for his undignified train of thought. Aziraphale deserved more than to be ogled like a piece of meat at the snout of a hungry, hungry hound. He couldn't possibly help that his hair was bed-messy, nor the fact that it did terrible things to Crowley's sense of composure. Nonetheless, Crowley would survive. He wasn't a wanton beast. Humanity afforded him—in theory—some amount of dignity.

“Your plate’s over there. I tried to guess how you take your tea; is ‘two sugars and a splash of milk’ anywhere at all close?” he asked Aziraphale, swallowing a bite to hide the raspy quality of his own voice. The astonishment on Aziraphale's face answered a simple ‘yes’. Although, maybe it was astonishment at the breakfast laid out in front of him. It wasn't really a normal move, Crowley reflected sheepishly, to cook a meal for the guy who had just come over for a drunken movie marathon. But Crowley wasn't normal in most things, so he resolutely didn't think about it.

“Yes,” Aziraphale murmured, gaping a little.

“That's exactly how I take it.” The whisper was draped in the kind of mid-morning confusion that only ever occurred after a late night of considerable drinking. He gently cupped the mug, tendrils of steam rising from it in fragrant arches. Sipping the beverage softly, his eyes fluttered shut, simple pleasure oozing from the drop in his shoulders.

“Thank you, Crowley.” His voice was etched in all-too-raw sincerity. He opened his eyes, gazing at him with the kind of look that forced Crowley to turn away.

“Don't thank me. It's the least I could do,” Crowley mumbled weakly. Undeterred, but still feigning propriety, Aziraphale hummed in absent acquiescence. He took the plate with his omelette, looking suddenly affected.

The gentle graze of porcelain plate against the bench top seemed almost reverent, as Aziraphale sat himself on the barstool next to Crowley’s. One thing that Crowley had learnt about Aziraphale—in the heated revelry of their late evening—was that he liked food. No, he didn't just like food. He loved food. Adored food. Damn near worshipped food. As he slowly raised the fork to his lips, Crowley hoped that the sacrifice was fit for the tabernacle of his idolatry.

Aziraphale’s eyes popped open in wide, slightly hedonism-glazed, surprise. 

“Oh—” He almost keened. And, if Crowley wasn't already red in the face, this would have been the inelegant signal that drove blood to the apple of his cheeks.

“Oh! This is simply scrumptious!” Aziraphale praised, made guileless by the distraction of—rather excellent, in his opinion—cuisine. Crowley ducked his head as if trying to bob under the blow of his words.

Untrusting of his vocal cords, Crowley didn't reply, content to revel in silence while Aziraphale finished his meal. The relative quiet gave him the chance to recalibrate after the unexpected misalignment of his neurological circuitry. It was peaceful. Cosy.

Discord:

AO3:

#good omens #ineffable husbands #podfic #ao3 #archive of our own #ineffable spouses #azicrow #good omens brainrot #good omens memes #good omens shitpost #good omens fic #gomens #good omens fan art #good omens fanart #ineffable husbands fic recs #ineffable husbands fic rec #ineffable idiots #ineffable partners #quantum entangled #quen #fanfiction #fanfic #fanart #aziracrow #go fanart #aziraphale #anthony j crowley

[taleweaver-ramblings]

how can there possibly be a way to make grape nuts taste good?

Ok, here's the thing. Grape Nuts taste great. Most people, as far as I can tell, are just eating them in a non-ideal way. Granted, I like Grape Nuts eaten cold, as long as you give them a minute or two for the milk to soak in. However, they're best eaten hot, and are far superior to pretty much any of the other hot-grain-product-in-a-bowl breakfasts except maybe baked oatmeal (in addition to already being the superior box cereal).

With that in mind, here's how to enjoy Grape Nuts in the best way I know how.

Wake up on a dark winter morning before work, a morning cold enough that even you, a morning person, don't really want to get out of bed.

Wonder if "sick of the cold" counts as being sick.

Remember that there are Grape Nuts open downstairs and decide that getting up is ok, actually.

Downstairs, acquire Grape Nuts, milk, and a microwave-safe bowl.

Put your desired amount of Grape Nuts in the bowl.

Pour milk into the bowl. You'll need to experiment a few times to figure out your preferred Grape Nuts-to-milk ratio. Some people put in enough to cover the cereal so you have floating pieces. I like just enough milk that you start to see it amid the Grape Nuts, but not enough to fully cover them.

Put your bowl in the microwave and heat for about a minute. Again, you'll need to experiment here to figure out what length of time gives you the results you like best. I tend to heat mine for a little less than a minute because I like to still have a little cronch.

Don't take your eyes off of it. If you look away, it'll boil over and make a mess, and then your morning will be decidedly less good.

Remove the bowl from the microwave. Careful, it may be hot.

Let cool just long enough to say thank you, God, for this food or your mealtime prayer of choice.

Dig in. Discover that the hot milk has softened the cereal so it becomes pleasantly textured, but not too hard, and the heat has also brought forth a delicious nutty, slightly molasses-y flavor (which was always there, but wasn't as pronounced before).

Finish the bowl. You're warm now, and your stomach is full, but not so full that you can't consider your taste buds' suggestion that another bowl would be a good idea. (Note: You can listen to them, but be aware that with Grape Nuts, like grilled cheese, the second in one sitting is never as good as the first.)

Steps 1–3 are optional — I can and will eat hot Grape Nuts in summer if I can get them — but I genuinely have cheered myself up on some cold weekday mornings by remembering that I'm having Grape Nuts for breakfast. I'm aware this makes me sound like a character in a cereal commercial, and I genuinely don't care.

If you've already tried Grape Nuts hot and you still don't like them, I recommend testing different amounts of milk and different lengths of microwaving. On the other hand, if you just flat out don't like the flavor . . . I'm sorry. Your life is sad and tragic, but it is the one you must live, and so you'll have to make the most of it.

#grape nuts #yes I am absurdly passionate about a breakfast cereal #this is possibly one of the hottest takes I have #no regrets #food #taleweaver answers #lady merian

[breelandwalker]

hey bree! quick Imbolc question.

i’m planning to make a meal for my d&d party since one of our sessions lands on the holiday. as a kitchen witch, i know to make something with dairy, but one of our members is lactose intolerant.

am i able to substitute dairy for anything? if so, what?

Absolutely! Imbolc's festivities include the celebration of cows and the dairy, but if health and dietary restrictions require the substitution of margarine and soy or almond milk, the symbolism of the thing is enough.

Apart from milk and butter and cheese, other Imbolc foods include oatmeal, soda bread, ham, eggs, honey, marmalade, preserves, treacle, molasses, and fish. There's plenty that can be done with. that. Personally, I like a nice honey-glazed salmon filet garnished with a bit of blackberry jam, but you could just as easily do a fruit and veggie tray with lunchmeat and soda bread and oatmeal cookies, or a little breakfast spread with eggs, ham, toast, preserves, and maybe an oatmeal bar with "fixins."

Keep in mind when you're planning the menu that it's not about restricting the food to JUST Imbolc-associated things, but rather making an effort to include them in whatever way best suits you and your guests.

Have a blessed Imbolc and good luck with your party!

#the-king-bird #Imbolc #kitchen witchery #Bree answers your inquiries

[foreveralwaysanauthor]

An Interlude

June 7, 2023

Notes - I want to wish you a very happy birthday, Eleanor! You and I have been friends for almost eight years now and, despite living an ocean apart, I could not have asked for a better friend over the years. You are such an incredible friend and writer and you deserve all the best things that this world can offer. I hope you have an incredible day full of happiness and fun and that the rest of this year treats you well! Happy birthday!!! 🥳💛

Soft violin music played over wireless headphones and cold air filled the lavender bedroom as the air conditioning unit in the window whirred at full speed. It was overwhelmingly warm in the O’Brian house - that was the first thing Vivien realized as she reached out to her nightstand and flicked her lamp on. If the clock on her table was anything to go by, she had maybe an hour before her family would be awake and pestering her for food since it was her day to cook breakfast. Mornings were typically the only time she had to herself as she was stretched thin almost every day. After breakfast on any regular day, Abby would need a ride to the record shop downtown where she worked as a part-time cashier and Oliver would ask her to drop him off at swim practice along the way. Then, she would go to band practice with Riven’s band, Blissful Chaos, and help them record a song or two before running back home to work at the winery for a few hours. After work, she would lock herself in her room, working on either song lyrics, her novel ideas, or cleaning up the audio she had recorded at band practice.

Today, however, was her day off. Her dad had nothing to do with the summer school program and could take her siblings to work or practice, her mom would be taking the day to work at the winery, and a couple of the members of Riven’s band - their lead singer, Jade, and their songwriter, Erica - were going to see some movie together for their anniversary after work. Vivien had nothing to do other than make some breakfast for the family. Taking a deep breath, she relaxed back into her bed and stared up at the handful of plastic stars Royce and Bentley had given her. Sighing, Vivien paused the video on her phone and switched it over to one of the playlists she and the boys had put together over time. After almost two weeks of being unable to do more than wave to them as she pulled out of her driveway in the morning, she missed them more than anything.

Sparing a hopeful glance at her bedside table, Vivien wrenched her eyes shut and let out a whining groan of complaint as her head hit the pillow. Two minutes had passed since she had last checked, cementing the fact that time crawled like a snail in molasses when a person wanted to do something fun that day. Taking in a deep breath, Vivien kicked her blankets aside and slid out of bed with a stretch. If she couldn’t sleep the time away, she’d simply have to will it to move. Tossing her blankets back toward the head of the bed, Vivien headed to her closet and grabbed some clothes to change into before disappearing into her bathroom to ready herself for the day.

Once she felt ready enough to start her day, Vivien tossed her unruly hair into a ponytail and made her way downstairs, cautious to avoid the center of the bottom step as she reached the bottom floor of the house. Passing the slumbering giant that was her loyal Saint Bernard, Loki, Vivien made a mental note to add some bacon pieces to his breakfast as she headed through the house to the kitchen. Grabbing a bag of sour gummies from the pantry and a can of soda from the fridge, she thought of what to make before everyone was up that would be safe for them to eat after she left the house. After a while of examining the few items in the refrigerator and pantry, Vivien shook her head, grabbed the bag of tortilla shells, some shredded cheese, a packet of microwaveable bacon, the half-empty carton of eggs that her brother had turned into some rather crunchy sandwiches one morning, and the Tupperware tub full of scrambled hamburger they’d made tacos with the night before.

Checking the watch on her wrist, Vivien smirked; if she got started now, she could have everything made up and wrapped in tin foil before the hour was up and she could be over to the Birch family’s house by six-thirty. Pulling a plate and bowl from the cupboard over the sink, Vivien got to work placing strips of bacon on the plate with paper towels to catch the grease before tossing them in the microwave. While they cooked, she got to cracking a pair of eggs into the bowl, whisking them with a fork, and adding some milk and cheese to the mix, adding the eggs to the microwave once the bacon was done. As the eggs cooked, she laid out the tortillas and began adding cheese and some of the now-chopped bacon to them. Once the microwaved scrambled eggs were ready, she spread some into the tortillas until she decided she needed more and repeated the process. After everything else was ready, she tossed the tub of hamburger into the microwave and let it cook before adding that to the tortillas and wrapping them up, securing them with rainbow-colored toothpicks, and wrapping all of them in tin foil.

Each foiled burrito received a name and a note as to how long each person should reheat their food and Vivien made sure to write out a note on a sticky note she left on the fridge, telling her family that she would be gone for the rest of the day. Whether they knew it or not, she had plans. Grabbing her lanyard of keys from the hook by the door and her bag from the floor, Vivien slipped on her Keds and headed out, making sure to lock only the deadbolt before running to where she’d parked her car the night before and sliding inside. As her phone connected to the car’s speakers, Vivien took in a breath of relief and backed out of the driveway, making it to the house next door in record time. Not feeling the need to lock her car with her belongings inside, Vivien turned off the engine, grabbed her phone and burrito, left the car, and smiled as she took off in a run around the side of the house, aiming for a particular room that faced the back half of the property. Golden curtains made the room obvious to the grinning brunette as she shifted the ladder closer to the window and began her ascent.

As she stepped onto the fourth rung, Vivien froze as the sound of a window creaking open below her grabbed her attention. Glancing to her left, Vivien waved as Brady leaned out of the bedroom he shared with his wife, a mug of coffee in hand and a smile on his face. “You’re late, Vivien.”

The brunette smiled, “Yeah, I was on breakfast duty today.”

“Ah,” the graying blond breathed, nodding understandingly. “Well, I’ll let you spend time with your boys. I was sure the two of them would have gone crazy if they’d had to go another day without you tapping show tunes on their window at the crack of dawn.”

Vivien’s heart swelled at the thought, a breath of laughter coming from her nose as her smile only broadened. She knew that the concept of waving to them every morning had to have been eating at them nearly as much as it was her, but it was nice to hear that they were just as frustrated by the situation at hand. “Sadly,” Vivien sighed, “life’s been crazier than a bag full of wet cats lately. Today is the first day off I’ve had since we went to the mall last week.”

“So much for summer being a vacation,” Brady said, shaking his head at the thought. After a moment, he patted the windowsill with his free hand and smiled, “Well, while you entertain the boys, I have to go see if we have enough creamer for the little coffee competition with Miles I’m sure we’ll be seeing at breakfast.”

“Thanks, Mister B,” Vivien said graciously. The last time she had visited, the two had gone through three pots of coffee, enough sugar to send someone into diabetic shock, and half a bottle of the peanut butter cup creamer that they only kept in the fridge for Vivien. As Vivien began climbing again, she realized just how much she missed in such a short amount of time. She missed drinking Miles into a coffee coma at the kitchen table or stealing food off of Royce's plate or trading dramatic retellings of what happened the day before with Carrie. As she climbed onto the roof and slid closer to the window, Vivien sighed; even though she had only been gone a week, she’d missed days like this.

Peering across the room, she noticed Bentley still curled under his blankets as the air conditioner inside the window on his side of the room filled the area with frigid air. Royce was nowhere to be seen, but if the still-open journal perched atop his comforter told her anything, she knew he was awake somewhere in the house. As Vivien examined the window before her, she realized that the storm window and screen had been left up, almost as though Royce was waiting for her arrival. Smiling, Vivien pressed the glass and slid it up enough that she could climb inside, tossing her phone and burrito onto her boyfriend’s bed before slipping into the room herself and sliding the window shut. 

Looking around the room as she settled on the mattress, Vivien realized just how different it felt now that the boys had split their bunk bed into two units. It had only been two weeks or so since the change had been made but it felt almost awkward to see how much in the room had changed. While the glowing stars and Polaroid pictures still littered the ceiling and walls, it seemed as though the boys had chosen to decorate their halves of the room differently. While Bentley’s was filled with his works of art and the easel he’d gotten for his birthday was on full display, Royce had taken advantage of the space by tucking his desk against the wall and littering it with journals and books he had yet to read. Vivien smiled as she thought of the typewriter she had already purchased for his birthday and how well it would fit inside the clustered chaos that was Royce’s desk.

As Vivien bit into her burrito, the door to the bedroom opened and her boyfriend didn’t so much as glance her way as he turned to close the door as quietly as possible. The door clicked into place and Royce turned, taking a couple of steps toward his bed before freezing at the sight of Vivien sitting cross-legged on top of his blankets. His mouth fell open and, before he could say a word, Vivien tapped a finger to her lips and pointed at Bentley’s slumbering form. Royce’s mocha eyes drifted toward his brother before gliding back toward Vivien as his mouth snapped shut and a bewildered smile took over his expression. Instead of questioning his girlfriend’s sudden appearance, Royce simply slid into place beside her and accepted the lukewarm burrito when she silently offered him a bite.

“You have no idea how much I missed this,” Vivien whispered as Royce handed her back the burrito.

Royce shook his head, attempting to swallow the bite he’d taken before muttering, “I think I might have an inkling.”

With a smile, Vivien nodded and the two worked together to finish off the hastily-made burrito before Vivien tossed the tin foil in the little trash can under Royce’s desk and relaxed against the mattress, staring up at the stars above her. Turning her attention to Royce, she asked, “Do you plan on joining me or am I going to have to find these constellations by myself?”

Royce shook his head with a smile, “Do you need a hoodie? It’s chilly and you’re wearing shorts.”

Propping herself on her elbows, Vivien sent him a deadpan stare as she uttered, “It’s fifty-six degrees out.”

Shrugging, Royce breathed, “I’m from Florida, this is usually enough for people to drag out their winter coats down there.”

“Yeah, well, I have tough, New-Englander skin, Rolls,” Vivien claimed with a fond smile, making Royce roll his eyes. “I don’t need a hoodie, but if you felt like grabbing me one, I wouldn’t fight you on it.”

Leaning over, Royce pressed a kiss to his girlfriend’s forehead and stepped away, making his way to the closet he still shared with his brother. He flipped through the available collection they had hanging up before pulling one from its hanger. The pale, seafoam green hoodie embossed with a beluga whale had been a memento from their trip to an aquarium in Connecticut for Bentley’s birthday and was supposed to be boxed up once the weather got warmer, but as the color tended to accentuate Vivien’s watercolor eyes, Royce had left it hanging on his side of the closet for whenever she decided to visit. As Vivien pulled the Mystic Aquarium hoodie over her head, Royce set his journal and pen on his nightstand and relaxed into the bed beside her, leaving room for her to rest against him when she chose to.

As Vivien reclined beside him, Royce brought his blanket over them and watched as she allowed herself to relax, a deep breath leaving her as she settled into the mattress. Almost as though she could sense his gaze on her, Vivien’s eyes peeled open lazily and settled on Royce who smiled at her in return as he softly stated, “I could get used to this, you know.”

A teasing grin covered Vivien’s face as she quipped, “Having me in your bed?”

Ignoring her quickly fired joke, Royce replied, “Just existing with you.”

“Existing?” Vivien questioned, shifting so that she was on her stomach, peering down at Royce with a curious smile.

“Living,” Royce corrected. “I guess I want to do more than just exist in life. We could do so much more than just exist together.”

Curiosity spiking as each word left Royce’s mouth, Vivien softly asked, “Like what?”

Royce beamed as he found Vivien’s eyes again, “I mean, think about it. One day, we could have a house to ourselves with enough room for us and the people we love.”

It was easy for Vivien to see that Royce had put some thought into the idea before and, if she was honest, she had too. The idea of eventually living with him had kept her monotonous days filled with daydreams of a future she hoped would arrive in time. Resting her hands on her boyfriend’s chest and resting her chin atop them, Vivien thoughtfully added, “We could put all of our books and records together on a shelf and forget what belongs to who.”  

“Your band could play as loud as they want to in someplace other than Riven’s basement,” Royce chuckled quietly.

Smiling at her boyfriend, Vivien breathed, “You’ve put quite a bit of thought into this.”

“Yeah,” Royce admitted as a flush of scarlet washed over his cheeks, igniting his freckled face with inextinguishable fire. “Why? Is that weird?”

“No,” Vivien claimed with a shake of her head.

Before Vivien could add anything more, a voice from the opposite side of the room groggily quipped, “Maybe not for you, but it is when you wake up to it at six in the morning.”

“It’s quarter of seven,” Royce offered.

“Time has never stopped you two from being mushy as hell before,” Bentley grumbled, pushing himself to sit up enough to glare at the couple across from him. “Like, I get it, Viv was gone for a week, but do you two need to make up for lost time? I swear, if I wake up to you two making out over there one of these days, I will make sure everyone in this house knows it.”

Vivien met Bentley’s tired eyes with an amused smirk, “We haven’t even kissed yet.”

Bentley shrugged as though that meant nothing to his argument, “And now you won’t be able to now that I’m awake.”

“Wanna bet?” Vivien tried.

Disgust filled Bentley’s expression as he pushed his way out from under his blankets, “Not particularly.”

As Bentley rose from his bed and crossed the room to sit on the end of Royce’s bed, a soft knock on the door grabbed their attention and Royce called for the person to enter. Slowly, the door pushed open and a head of golden curls entered, a smile blossoming on Carrie’s face as she spotted Vivien. “I thought I heard you,” she remarked, leaning against the door frame as the young couple sat up. “I was just coming to let the boys know breakfast is ready.”

“Thanks, Carrie,” Bentley said around a yawn.

Royce shoved his brother as the yawn passed to him and Vivien shook her head with a roll of her eyes as she turned to Carrie with a grin, “We’ll be down in a minute.”

“Good,�� the blonde chirped. “I can’t wait to hear what happened while you were gone.”

With a sigh, Vivien shrugged, “I’m afraid it’s probably not as thrilling as you’d think.”

“I guess I’ll just have to find out,” Carrie replied with a gentle smile. “Now, I had better get downstairs before Miles pours maple syrup into his coffee again.”

“‘Again’?” Royce wondered.

Carrie’s golden curls bounced as she nodded, “If I hadn’t stopped him, he probably would have dumped creamer all over his French toast.”

Vivien made a face, “Nasty.”

Again, the blonde nodded as she took the doorknob, “See you downstairs.”

As the door swung shut, Royce pushed himself from his bed and headed for the closet, taking the pair of shorts and tee shirt from the top of the dresser where his brother had set them out the night before and tossing them to Bentley as the blond leaned his head onto Vivien’s shoulder. Looking over his clothes, Bentley mumbled, “I forgot it’s supposed to be hot today.”

“And we’ll be in the sun for most of it,” Royce agreed as he picked out something for himself.

“What do you mean?” Vivien asked. 

“We’re going out on the pontoon today,” Bentley claimed. “Mickie is supposed to teach us how to wake surf.”

“I think Carrie is staying here, though,” Royce commented as he pulled his hoodie off and tossed it into the closet.

Vivien’s head tipped to the side as she asked, “How come? I thought she would have loved something like that.”

While Royce shrugged, Bentley lifted his head from Vivien’s shoulder and commented, “I don’t think she said.”

Making it a plan to ask the blonde once she got downstairs, Vivien rose from the bed and made her way to the door, allowing the boys to get dressed while she made her way downstairs. The first thing she heard was laughter and, as she entered the kitchen, she could see why. Miles had a look of pure disgust on his face, staring into his coffee mug as though it had greatly offended him. She could only guess that he had taken a swig of his maple syrup concoction and, as he had anticipated the sweet, peanut butter and chocolate mixture he usually added to his coffee, the alternative was a bit of a shock. Setting the cup down as Vivien entered the room, Miles took a forkful of his breakfast to rid himself of the taste and offered the girl a small grin.

“How’d the coffee taste?” she asked him as she dropped into the chair she usually took at the table.

“Like shit,” Miles muttered, running a hand through his already messy hair. “A fucking wake-up call if I’ve ever had one.”

The mischievous smile on Carrie’s face told Vivien that the blonde hadn’t said a word to her boyfriend about the syrup he’d poured into his coffee, but the thick syrup coating his French toast was a clear sign that she had kept him from ruining his breakfast. Smirking, Vivien shook her head and thanked Brady as he set a plate of food before her. After taking in a piece of bacon, she asked, “The boys said you guys were going pontooning today.”

“We are,” Mack confirmed as she set her plate and glass of juice on the table. “Well, apart from Carrie, that is.”

Turning her gaze to the blonde in question, she asked, “How come?”

Carrie’s azure eyes found Vivien’s emerald gaze and she smiled, “I was planning on sitting out back and tanning for a while.”

A quirked eyebrow raised past the tips of Vivien’s bangs as she asked, “Couldn’t you tan on the boat?”

Before Carrie could answer, Miles did, “Yes, but then she’d have to worry about the boys and their water guns.”

“Or one of the older boys pushing her overboard again,” Mick added as she and Butchy entered the room, sending a hard stare in her husband’s direction.

Butchy didn’t wither under his wife’s stare, instead offering, “That last time was completely accidental.”

Carrie settled her gaze on the older biker, “Tell that to my bruised ass.”

A gleam of something wicked glinted in Butchy’s chocolate eyes as he stared into Carrie’s eyes and blankly said, “It was completely accidental.”

“Couldn’t come up with anything better, could you?” Carrie questioned rhetorically, a roll of her eyes coming with ease.

“You really want to go there?” Butchy questioned. When Carrie leaned back in her seat and gestured for him to continue with a nod, Butchy’s grin spread into something far more devious/ 

However, before he could speak, Mick cleared her throat from beside him, taking a quick sip of her drink and barely looking up from her plate as she spoke calmly, yet firmly, “Watch what you say or you’ll be sleeping on the couch tonight.”

Turning to his wife, Butchy began, “I wasn’t going to-”

“Yes, you were,” she interrupted, finally meeting his gaze. When Butchy remained silent and Carrie simply stared at Mick with a victorious grin, Mick said, “Now, both of you stop arguing like a pair of petulant toddlers and eat before I make you both stay home.”

As an almost impressed Butchy grinned and returned to his plate, Carrie sat with a faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she brought up her cup, toasting Mick’s authoritative behavior before taking a sip of her drink. Watching the interaction with a shocked smile, Vivien let out a laugh, “When did you grow balls, Mickie?”

Mick finished her mouthful of eggs before answering, “It came with the wedding ring.”

Attempting to brush off her amusement as Royce and Bentley finally decided to join them, Vivien cleared her throat and turned her attention back to Carrie. “Anyway,” she began, “if you’re not doing anything today, Carrie, maybe you and I could hang out.”

Although Carrie looked ready to answer, Bentley was quick to cut in as he poured himself a glass of juice, “But then you’ll miss wake surfing.”

“You were planning on joining us, right?” Royce asked, hoping his girlfriend would catch onto the silent plea he was hoping came across in his tawny eyes. Turning his gaze toward Mack and Brady, he asked, “Viv can come, can’t she?”

Sending a smile toward both Carrie and Vivien, Mack nodded, “You both are more than welcome to join us if you would like to, but if you two would like to spend more time together, that’s perfectly fine.”

Carrie nodded to Mack, grateful the woman had offered more than one option as Vivien turned to the curly-haired blonde with a small smile. “What do you say, Carrie?” Vivien wondered. “I mean, obviously, you don’t have to go if you don’t want to, but I figured it would be nice to get away and have a bit of a girls-only day?”

“A girls' day, huh?” Carrie asked. The thought was nice. Vivien was a happy medium between the carefree version of herself she found when she was alone with Miles and the tense tightrope she felt she always walked when she was around Royce and Butchy. Getting away from the need to look and act a certain way for the day might not be a bad idea. It wasn’t like she was planning on doing much while the others were away anyway. Sending her signature smile in Vivien’s direction, Carrie asked, “What did you have in mind?”

Vivien beamed, allowing her ideas to flow like water as Royce sighed, turning his attention back to the food before him as he poked at it in disinterest. The one day he gets to spend with his girlfriend and Carrie swoops in to steal her away. Granted, it was Vivien’s idea to spend the day with the blonde, but why did Carrie have to go along with it? As though sensing a pair of eyes on him, Royce looked to Bentley first, but his brother was busy eating and half-heartedly listening to Vivien and Carrie’s plan for the day. His next stop was Mack and Brady, but they had dissolved into a soft-spoken conversation of their own, much like Mick and Butchy had. Then, as his eyes found Miles’, Royce knew he’d found the right person. Miles’ icy blue gaze was amused, yet apologetic as their girlfriends chattered beside them. Royce spared a glance at Carrie, watching the blonde talk with glittering excitement for a moment before returning his gaze to Miles with a small grin. Well, at least the blonde had something to do that didn’t involve staying glued to Miles’ side all day. 

Once breakfast had finished and Vivien had trailed Carrie up to the room the actress shared with her boyfriend, the two babbling about their plans as Carrie changed into something more comfortable, the pair wished the rest of the cabin’s residents a good day and rushed to Vivien’s car, rolling the windows down and turning up the radio before pulling out of the driveway and speeding off down the road. As it was barely eight in the morning and most people were on their way to work outside of the tiny town, there wasn’t a lot of traffic, but as they pulled to a stop behind a bus full of kids heading for the last field trip of the school year, they were forced to listen to the menagerie of songs playing from different shops which made the town feel much more lively.

As the car began moving once more and Vivien aimed for the highway, Carrie turned to her companion and asked, “Where to first, my loyal chauffeur?”

Sparing a smile at Carrie, Vivien replied, “I was thinking we could hit the mall until lunch, then come back to town and I could show you some of my favorite places.”

“Like what?” Carrie called as the car picked up speed and the wind grew stronger.

“Nice try!” Vivien laughed as she turned the car’s map off. “I’m not going to give you the answer. You’ll just have to wait and see!”

Carrie smiled, listening as the younger girl’s playlist shifted from Harry Styles to ABBA. The pair sang along to songs as the wind whipped through the car, both of them singing at the top of their lungs just to hear each other over the wind and the radio. They passed by a handful of exits to different cities and Carrie never once questioned Vivien’s sense of direction as they flew down the road. Eventually, the car slowed and Vivien turned to the next exit, following the street until they reached a traffic light. As they turned left, Vivien found the large building just a minute down the road and pointed it out to Carrie. While the Mall of New Hampshire wasn’t the most glamorous shopping mall in the world and it was far from one of the biggest, the mall had been one of Vivien’s favorites growing up. Pulling into the parking lot just outside of the food court, Vivien found a spot not too far from the entrance and rolled to a stop, sliding the car windows into place as Carrie gathered her purse and tossed her sunglasses onto the dash.

“This is your mall, huh?” Carrie wondered as she stepped out of the car.

“Yeah,” Vivien said with a grin as she slammed her door shut and rounded the car. “It may not be the prettiest thing in the world, but I used to come here all the time and I grew pretty fond of it.”

Nudging the younger girl with a smile, Carrie said, “Well, I think it’s lovely.”

“Thanks,” Vivien chuckled, reaching for the blonde’s hand. “Now, come on! We need to get in there before the cashier at Tilly’s goes on her morning break.”

Without hesitation, Carrie allowed herself to be pulled to the mall entrance as Vivien rushed through the parking lot, dodging cars and small families on their way out of the mall. As they entered the food court and wove through the tables that filled the space between pocket restaurants, Carrie looked around at the little food stalls that filled the walls - a pretzel shop, a store selling some kind of drink with little balls sitting at the bottom of each cup, a pizza shop, and some exotic food stalls that smelled far better than some of the images hanging from the signs looked. 

Vivien brought Carrie across the hall from the food court to a store with window walls and mannequins in every window dressed like they had spent their entire lives on the beach. “What is this place?” Carrie asked as Vivien led her inside the shop.

“Tilly’s,” Vivien stated with a smile. “My friend Jade works here and I wanted to see if she could help me get a discount on some stuff.”

With a nod, Carrie gestured to the rest of the store with her free hand and said, “Lead the way, then.”

Vivien walked Carrie to the left wall of the store and released her hand as she neared the counter, calling out, “Hey, Jade,” to the green-haired girl behind the counter who quickly finished folding a shirt and smiled in Vivien’s direction.

“Vivien, hi,” the girl, presumably Jade, said, leaning over the counter just enough to embrace Vivien before backing away. “We got your pre-order this morning; is that what you’re here for?”

“That and your ridiculously helpful employee discount,” Vivien tried, slipping a hopeful smile into place as the girl with the green hair rolled her eyes. “Please, JJ?” Vivien whined, clasping her hands together and using the strongest set of puppy-dog eyes Carrie had ever seen.

Jade sighed, placing a hand over Vivien’s and pushing them down. “Fine,” she uttered, “but this is the last time.”

Vivien perked up almost instantly, reviving like a flower dying of thirst finally receiving a drop of water as she leaned against the counter with a proud, yet teasing, smile, “You say that every time.”

“And one of these days, I’ll mean it,” Jade claimed, ducking beneath the counter and setting a group of boxes on the counter.

Turning to Carrie, Vivien smiled, “She said that last time too.”

Carrie smiled, shaking her head at the brunette’s persuasive skills as the green-haired girl finally spotted the blonde behind Vivien. “Oh, I’m sorry, were you here first?” Jade asked.

“Nope,” Vivien answered. “She’s with me.”

Tipping her head to the side as she scanned Vivien’s items into the computer, Jade wondered, “What happened to your boyfriend?”

“I still have him,” Vivien shrugged. “This is his older brother’s girlfriend, my future sister-in-law, Caroline Cole.”

Carrie stepped forward, stretching a hand out to the cashier. “Carrie,” she introduced. “It’s so nice to meet one of Vivien’s friends.”

“And bandmates,” Jade added with a confident smile as she clasped onto the older girl’s hand, her charm bracelet tinkling as they shook hands. “I’m the band’s lead singer, Jade Ashford. It’s nice to meet you as well.”

Moving on from the interaction, Vivien asked the cashier, “Is Erica still at work?”

“She better be,” Jade commented as Vivien slipped her bank card into the payment slot. “After work, we’re going to see that new Spider-Man movie she’s been dying to see.”

“What happened to seeing that new Transformers movie?” Vivien asked as Jade handed over her bag of new items.

“It isn’t coming out until Friday and we both have a full schedule Friday,” Jade answered with a huff leaning her chin into her palm as she relaxed against the counter. “So, Spider-Man it is.”

With a nod of understanding, Vivien smiled and said, “Well, I hope you enjoy it.”

“I’ll try,” Jade shrugged. “Have fun touring the mall.”

“We will,” Carrie and Vivien chirped in unison, making the two laugh as they left the store.

As Vivien continued down the hallway, seemingly knowing her destination without saying a word, Carrie examined the bag swinging from the brunette’s arm with heightened curiosity. “So,” she drawled as her curiosity got the better of her, “what’s in the bag?”

A glimmer of excitement flickered in Vivien’s eyes at the question, “I needed new wheels for my skateboard, but I also picked up some stuff for this weekend.”

“This weekend?” Carrie questioned.

“Yeah,” Vivien nodded. “I figured we could go to the roller rink and spend a few hours bonding over our bruised asses.”

Carrie laughed, “Who is this ‘we’ you speak of?”

“You, me, and the boys,” Vivien decided. “I figured it would be nice.”

“It would,” Carrie agreed, “but I doubt Royce and Bentley would want me there.”

“Maybe not,” Vivien acknowledged, “but I can think of two other people who would love to have you there.”

Turning to the younger girl, Carrie found the brunette smiling at her with a glimmer of something in her eyes that told Carrie she was unwavering in her decision. Sometimes, it astonished Carrie that Vivien was so accepting of her despite Royce’s insistence that she was the devil. From the day they had met, Vivien had taken Carrie in as another friend and treated her as an equal. They had gotten along so well that first day that, from that day on, Vivien had begun attempting to bring Royce and Carrie’s relationship to a mending point.  Carrie had tried for ages to get somewhat closer to Miles’ younger brothers, to little avail, but Vivien had worked her way into Bentley’s head, helping the relationship the now fifteen-year-old had with his oldest brother’s girlfriend and was trying everything in her power to mend the relationship Carrie had with Royce. It certainly wasn’t an easy task and, while Carrie certainly appreciated the dedicated lengths Vivien went to, she sometimes wondered how long it would be before the sixteen-year-old decided it was a losing battle. Royce was as stubborn as Carrie could be and, although she had seen some minor improvements over their summer vacation, he had fought tooth and nail to keep his distance from the older blonde. That was how Carrie knew that whatever Vivien had planned for their little trip to the roller rink, had to have included some kind of bonding thing for just Carrie and Royce. She just hoped it didn’t end with one of them taking a skate to the face.

“Sounds like fun,” Carrie offered.

“It will be!” Vivien beamed. “They have this thing called ‘Neon Hour’ where they turn the blacklights on and everything glows in the dark. The ceiling is covered in these little hidden stars and planets and the walls glow like eighties neon exploded all over them, but the coolest thing is that, if you’re wearing the right colors, you’ll glow too!”

Carrie smiled, “I guess that means I’ll have to let you help pick out my outfit.”

“Oh, absolutely,” Vivien laughed. “That’s why we’re going to Spencer’s next.”

“Spencer’s?”

The brunette nodded, “They have a bunch of glow-in-the-dark stuff. It’s also where Jade’s girlfriend, Erica, works.”

“Erica?”

“Mhm,” Vivien hummed, turning left down the hall across from Old Navy. “Erica Mills. She’s one of Riven’s oldest friends and our resident songwriter and backup guitarist.”

Carrie nodded, allowing Vivien to lead her the rest of the way to Spencer’s. The store was dark inside and music thumped from the overhead speakers as a group of older teenagers left the store. Looking up at the graffitied rolling door, Carrie smiled at the name of the store, lightly elbowing Vivien and pointing up at the sign. “I guess you were right.”

“Thank you,” Vivien smiled. Then, as a confused shine filled her eyes, she asked, “Why am I right?”

Carrie laughed, shaking her head, “Last week when we went to that old mall, you pointed out a door just like this one and said it was Spencer’s.”

Vivien looked up at the sign and chuckled, “Yeah, I guess I did.”

This time, it was Carrie that led the way inside, “Come on, Vivi.”

Vivien was quick to move, taking the blonde’s arm and pulling her to the side and out of the way of any other customers before turning to Carrie with a serious look in her eyes. When Carrie questioned what was wrong, Vivien shook her head with a small grin, “I just wanted to warn you before we go any further that you don’t want to go to the back side of the store.”

A confused smile appeared on Carrie’s face as she asked, “Why not?”

Vivien spared a glance around to see if anyone else was nearby before leaning close to Carrie and whispering, “They sell some… inappropriate stuff back there.”

Carrie chuckled, glancing to her left and back to Vivien as she took the brunette’s hands in hers, “Viv, we are standing next to a shirt with frogs wearing cowboy hats on it that says, ‘Giddy Up, Sluts’. I kind of figured this place isn’t exactly Bloomingdale’s.”

Peering over at the shirt, Vivien let out a snort before shaking her head, “That’s not exactly what I meant, but just try to avoid the back of the store if you can while I talk to Erica.”

Giving the younger brunette a mock salute, Carrie nodded, “Sir, yes, sir.”

Vivien gave a hopeful nod and took off for the counter in the center of the store, leaving Carrie to look around on her own. Looking around, the blonde shook her head. Most of the shirts lining the walls had sayings on them that would send most people back home into a coma if they saw anyone walking around with one on. Some of the store’s products weren’t so bad - items with animals or popular cartoons were set aside from the more offensive merchandise, a section of one wall was filled with fluffy throw blankets with different shows or quotes on them, and, as Carrie wandered further into the store, she found a seemingly endless supply of lava lamps. 

Watching the colorful blobs of fluid float through their colorfully designed lamps, Carrie smiled. Lava lamps would make for interesting gifts for the people back home. Glancing over to the counter to see Vivien still chatting with the blue-haired cashier, the blonde shrugged. She could wait. As Carrie spotted the back wall of the store, she turned and continued on down an aisle of candies and snacks with foreign names on the wrappers. Making her way to the opposite side of the shop, she found herself before a wall of shot glasses and mugs. Some, like the coffee mug shaped like the Scooby-Doo Mystery Machine, were cute and Carrie could easily see them taking up space in the cupboards at Miles’ house, while others - such as the one shaped like a 20-sided die - looked far too complex to be used for anything more than decoration. 

As Carrie made her way toward where Vivien and her friend were chatting at the register, the blue-haired girl smiled at her and said, “This must be the infamous Carrie.”

“Yeah,” Vivien nodded before turning to Carrie with a grin. “Carrie, this is Erica, the girl I was telling you about.”

“Did you check out the back?” Erica asked, wiggling her eyebrows playfully as she leaned against the counter.

Carrie slowly shook her head, “Viv told me not to.”

The blue-haired girl’s mouth dropped open as she reached over and slapped Vivien’s arm, “Bitch, you didn’t!”

“She’s never been in a Spencer’s before!” Vivien exclaimed in retaliation.

With a shake of her head, Erica turned her attention back to Carrie and smiled as she said, “With a body like yours, I’m sure you could pull off anything on that back wall.”

Carrie’s interest rose as she glanced toward the darkened back of the store. “Oh yeah?” she wondered. “Is that where you keep the more risqué clothing?”

“You could say that,” Erica snorted. “That’s where the lingerie and sex toys are.”

“Oh,” Carrie breathed in understanding. Turning to Vivien, she raised an eyebrow and smirked as she asked, “Is that why you didn’t want me going back there?”

“Well, yeah,” Vivien shrugged. “I figured it would make you uncomfortable.”

Patting Vivien on the arm, Carrie smiled, “Sweetheart, I’m an actress. It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”

As Carrie wandered off to continue looking around the store, Vivien turned her attention back to the blue-haired girl before her and grumbled, “If I have to go back there to get her-”

“You might find some cute pajamas or something,” Erica shrugged, unfazed by the brunette’s strong glare. “We don’t just sell lingerie, you know. There are some cute things back there.”

“And risk coming face-to-face with any of those sex toys?” Vivien questioned sarcastically. “I don’t think so.”

With a roll of her eyes, Erica sighed, “You act like seeing one will kill you.”

“It might,” Vivien huffed. “Heart attacks are real.”

Erica snorted, “I’d hate to see what happens when you and your boy toy finally get some.”

Vivien shook her head with a scoff, “Thankfully, that’s not happening any time soon.”

“Prude,” Erica teased.

“Sex addict,” Vivien fired.

“Forty-year-old virgin.”

“You are such a dick.”

“Takes one to know one,” Erica beamed. “Now, go get your friend out of the back, buy yourself some shitty astronaut earrings or something, and let me get back to work before my boss gets back from her break.”

“I hate you,” Vivien muttered as she rounded the counter.

“Love you too,” Erica offered, watching her friend disappear into the store with a smile before turning her attention back to the job at hand.

Two hours and many stores later, Vivien led the way to the food court where the pair sat in a booth against the wall and decided what they wanted to eat. After getting a set of milkshakes from the Dairy Queen outlet and some greasy, oversized, pizza slices from the pizza place wedged between the Chinese food place and a Dunkin’ Donuts, the girls sat together on one side of the booth, watching YouTube videos on Vivien’s phone while they ate. Once they had thrown out their trash, the girls headed out to the car, the rush of heat making them let out noises of complaint as they left the chilled, air-conditioned shopping center.

Rushing to the car, the pair slid into their seats, quickly rolling their windows down in the hopes of releasing the sweltering heat that filled the car. As they got back on the road, Carrie breathed a sigh and relaxed into the heat of her seat, “That was fun.”

“It was,” Vivien agreed as she pulled onto the highway. “Think you’d want to go back there sometime?”

“Absolutely,” Carrie agreed, her naturally beaming smile making an appearance as she turned toward the brunette. “So, what comes next?”

Vivien grinned, letting out a chuckle as she leaned into the gas pedal, “Next is the tour of Sanbornton. I figured we could visit a couple of places before it gets too late. What do you think?”

“Sounds like a plan to me.”

“Good.” 

Vivien smiled as she reached over and turned on the radio, allowing Carrie to control the music as she handed her cell phone over. With Spotify already open, Carrie scrolled through the playlists Vivien had saved to the device until finally landing on one with a glittering disco ball as the cover image. The blonde contemplated many songs until finally landing on one that made her smile as Vivien had made her listen to it many times. Masking her excitement with a firm stare and a stern voice, Carrie turned to the girl next to her and hollered over the wind, “I swear, if you don’t sing this with me at your birthday party, you’ll be in big trouble.”

Sparing a confused and concerned glance at the blonde, Vivien asked, “What is it?”

Instead of answering, Carrie tapped the song and allowed the song to play over the car’s speakers. Vivien tried to keep her eyes on the road while she laughed, listening to ABBA’s Dancing Queen as it filled the air. Carrie’s smile returned in full as she told the girl, “You’d better sing along!”

Through her laughter, Vivien nodded and, as the song began, the pair began singing as loud as they could, “You can dance, you can jive! Having the time of your life! Ooh, see that girl, watch that scene - digging the dancing queen!”

The rest of the drive was filled with songs from the playlist that Vivien had created over time, only skipping a song when it didn’t fit the energy they both wanted. By the time they pulled into Sanbornton, it was almost one-thirty and the sun was beating down on the small town with a vengeance. However, the sun did little to sway the multitude of pedestrians who filled the sidewalks, wandering from one shop to the next on the main street. Then, after a group of people crossed in front of them, Vivien turned on her blinker and pulled the car to the left, leading them into a small parking lot and turning the car off once it was parked.

“Where are we now?” Carrie asked Vivien as the brunette pulled a few dollars from her wallet and tucked it back into her purse. 

“Pirate’s Cove,” Vivien replied as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

Carrie followed Vivien in tucking her purse under her seat before leaving the car. The brunette locked her car before guiding the blonde over to a nearby fence where they could see into the property. It appeared as though the building by the road was only a front for the absolute madness going on behind the scenes. Looking around, Carrie felt as though they had just stepped into another world - one set in the golden age of piracy. A full-scale, wooden ship lurked in water that had to have been deep enough to swim in, rope bridges connected patches of horrendously green, fake grass, and people dressed as pirates and eighteenth-century townspeople wandered the area, talking with customers and acting as though they belonged. A large, cascading waterfall pooled into the water that surrounded the miniature golf course and Carrie let out a breath of a laugh as a pair of pirates distantly argued over a cartoonish map that a small child showed them.

“Feel up to eighteen holes of stupid fun?” Vivien asked hopefully, offering Carrie a hand.

Turning to the brunette with an amused smile, Carrie quickly nodded, latching onto the girl’s hand, “Hell yeah!”

Vivien laughed, stepping away from the fence and taking off for the entrance to the adventure park. Their first stop was the front desk which was nestled inside a building that was made to look like something you would see in an old, coastal town with stained glass windows decorating the walls and the imitated smell of ocean air being pushed through small vents under the windowsill. The young man sitting at the front desk looked bored with his job, his chin in one hand and his cell phone in the other. Behind him was a rack full of colorful putters with barnacles decorating each pole and a basket filled to the brim with golf balls in a rainbow array of colors. From their spot at the counter, Carrie could just barely make out a snack shop behind the man, one of his coworkers handing a small bucket of popcorn to a child in the distance.

Without even looking up from his phone, the man sighed and monotonously recited, “Welcome to Pirate’s Cove where every hole-in-one is celebrated with a cannon blast. How many people are putting today?”

Vivien turned to Carrie and the pair shared an amused smile as Carrie said, “Two.”

“What colors do you want?” the man - Toby, if his name tag was anything to go by - asked.

“Purple and blue,” Vivien replied.

Setting his phone down, Toby swiveled his chair around and pulled two golf clubs from the rack, pulled two balls from the basket, and turned back to the girls before him. “That will be nineteen-fifty.” Vivien handed the man a twenty dollar bill and accepted the clubs from him in exchange as he fetched her the change. As he pressed two quarters into her palm and placed the two golf balls on the counter, Toby grabbed his phone again and recited, “Try not to get lost in the depths of the ship or we’ll have to throw you overboard.”

Unsure of how to respond to the statement, Vivien took Carrie by the hand and pulled her over to the map by the entrance of the golf course. As the two unintentionally locked gazes, they burst into laughter at the exchange. Carrie was the first to speak, giggling, “I think he hates his job.”

“Did you see his eyes?” Vivien snorted. When Carrie shook her head, Vivien added, “I think he was high.”

Carrie glanced back at the worker who was now droning the same greeting to another group of happy customers and, as he looked up with a dopey, faraway look in his eyes, she whirled back around to Vivien and the two fell back into a fit of laughter. “He’s definitely high,” Carrie agreed once she found herself able to breathe once again.

“Yeah,” Vivien nodded.

Once the girls had found the ability to continue without giggling, they began their trek through the course. The first few holes had been fairly uneventful and easy to get through, yet as they pushed further into the course, the holes became harder and harder to get into. As they finally reached the second to last hole they found one of the hardest obstacle courses yet. The goal of the seventeenth hole was to get the golf ball through a tiny hole in a large rock, through the miniature waterfall on the other side, around a maze of cannonballs, and into the cup. However, that tiny hole in the rock proved to be the worst part of the challenge as neither girl made it in after a handful of attempts.

“What the hell!” Vivien complained as her golf ball bounced off of the rock and rolled back toward her. Turning toward Carrie, she scoffed, “That totally should have gone in!”

“It should have!” Carrie agreed. At this point, she was ready to throw both the ball and the club at the nearest pirate statue, cussing whoever designed the course to be so difficult. As she took her position on the green, Carrie sighed, “I wonder if we hit the balls hard enough, they’ll go over the rock?”

“Worth a shot,” Vivien shrugged. “At this point, I’m willing to try just about anything.”

Glancing at the brunette, Carrie gripped her golf club with practiced ease and said, “If this doesn’t go in, I’m skipping it and going to the next hole.”

“Fine by me,” Vivien nodded.

Carrie took her stance on the green and turned her azure gaze to the aqua ball on the ground before her. With enough power in her swing, she could send the ball over the rock and, even if it didn’t go into the cup on the other side, at least she would be done trying to get the ball through the small hole in the rock. Taking a deep breath, Carrie lined up her club, swung it up behind her, and brought the putter down in a solid swing, sending the little ball sailing through the air. As the ball surpassed the boulder, Carrie turned to Vivien with an excited cheer, slapping the brunette’s awaiting hand with her own as they celebrated their little victory. 

Then, as they shared a laugh, they heard a man let out a distant groan of pain before a heavy splash filled the air. With wide eyes, Carrie and Vivien slowly turned toward the noise, creeping around the boulder to find a man in a pirate costume swimming toward the edge of the manmade lake. Quickly ducking back behind the boulder, Vivien turned to Carrie with wide eyes, finding the blonde covering her mouth with a hand. “You totally hit that guy!” Vivien softly exclaimed.

“I didn’t mean to!” Carrie whisper-yelled.

Vivien, who was already dissolving into a giggle fit, teasingly laughed, “That’s not how you’re supposed to hit on someone, Carrie!”

“I wasn’t trying to!” Carrie quickly exclaimed. 

Without saying a word, Vivien’s eyes slowly drifted to the side and Carrie felt the desire to melt into the artificial turf under her feet as she slowly turned, coming face-to-face with the young man she had sent swimming. A puddle had begun to form under his feet as water rained off of his costume, his makeshift beard was lopsided, his tricorne hat was tucked under his arm, and, despite being hit with a golf ball and sent careening into the water, the worker had a smile on his face as he held out Carrie’s blue golf ball.

“I think you lost this,” the man said.

Carrie was quick to take the ball from his outstretched hand, apologizing as soon as she came to her senses, “I am so sorry!”

“Don’t be,” the worker shrugged, bringing his drenched hat back on top of his soaked, inky hair. “It was nice to take a swim in this heat.”

As the worker tipped his hat like a proper gentleman and walked away, his water-filled boots squelching footprints into the fake grass beneath his feet, Carrie turned to Vivien with wide eyes and a reddened face. “That was mortifying,” she breathed.

“I think you mean hilarious,” Vivien suggested, her amused, shuddering shoulders not helping Carrie’s embarrassment in the slightest.

Somehow, Vivien convinced Carrie to finish the last hole of the miniature golf course before their departure. On their way out, Vivien stopped for some popcorn and sodas, handing their golf clubs and balls back to the worker before leading Carrie back to the car where they sat and ate their snacks. As soft music filled the car, Vivien let Carrie relax before asking, “How are you doing?”

Carrie leveled a sarcastic glare at the girl as she muttered, “I just hit some random stranger with a golf ball; how do you think I’m doing?”

Vivien let out a soft laugh, “Well, if it means anything, he didn’t seem to mind.”

“Somehow, that doesn’t make me feel much better,” Carrie sighed, tossing another handful of popcorn into her mouth.

Vivien took in a deep breath and nodded in understanding, glancing toward the main street as she tried to think of something, anything, she could do to help the situation. Finally, as her gaze landed on a small shop wedged between the town’s newspaper office and the flower shop, Vivien smiled. Turning to Carrie, Vivien reached over the center console and took her friend’s hand in hers. “I might have a way to get this off your mind.”

“What would that be?” Carrie wondered cautiously.

“Manicures!”

“Manicures?”

“Yeah!” Vivien exclaimed, turning in her seat so that she faced the blonde. “I have to get my nails touched up soon anyway, so maybe we could go, get our nails done, and just relax for a little while.”

The excitement radiating from the brunette was palpable and, dare Carrie admit it, infectious. Giving into the smile that begged to be seen, Carrie nodded, “That sounds nice.”

After double-checking that Carrie wanted to go, Vivien placed her bag of popcorn aside and pushed her door open, exclaiming, “Come on, then!”

“Where are you going?” Carrie asked, quickly following the brunette in leaving the vehicle.

As Vivien reached back inside for her wallet, she replied, “The nail salon is just down the street; we can walk from here.”

Carrie rounded the car and allowed Vivien to lead the way as the brunette rambled on and on about color-changing nail polish and how the lady that worked there could draw amazingly detailed designs without any stencils. When the door opened, the workers greeted Vivien as though they had known her for years which, now that Carrie thought of it, maybe they had. The room smelled of cucumber and watermelon and, as there was only one person in the shop getting their nails done, they were seated fairly quickly. As Carrie looked around at the walls full of nail polish, she wondered just how long it had taken for them to accumulate so much, but as the young girl who showed them where to sit brought over a small basket of polishes for them to search through, Carrie’s attention was dragged to the task at hand.

“These are all color-changing polishes,” Vivien explained as she began pulling out bottles to look at. “I get this every time I come in here and I’ve never been disappointed, which is probably why they assumed you wanted the same thing. You don’t have to pick one of these if you don’t want to.”

Although the girl had given her the choice to opt out, Carrie shook her head and smiled, “It could be fun to try something new.”

Vivien smiled as she returned to rifling through the plastic basket on the counter between them. Carrie began to look through the basket with Vivien, looking at the stripes of color around each bottle to see which colors were inside. Each bottle of temperature-activated, chameleon polish had a stripe of color around it, showcasing the shift between the warm color and the cool color, making the decision easier for both girls. Vivien was quick to choose a polish that would change from a pale shade of peach to lavender while Carrie looked around until she found one that shifted between blue and purple.

As the nail technicians got to work on filing and prepping their nails for the gel treatments, Carrie and Vivien began filling each other in on things that had been going on in their lives. Carrie was the first to ask, “So, how come you’ve been away for so long?”

Vivien rolled her eyes, “Everyone’s been pulling me in a million different directions. I swear everyone thinks that I’m Inspector Gadget or something.”

“What do you mean?” Carrie questioned.

“Ever since I got my license, people have been piling on the responsibilities like I have all the time in the world for them,” Vivien sighed. “But doing everything for them leaves me no time for myself. I think that’s why I’m so ready to go help at camp this year.”

“You’re going to summer camp?”

Vivien nodded, “Camp Wanamaker. I used to go for free every year as a camper since the owners are my relatives.”

“That must be so much fun,” Carrie commented as she stuck her hand into a dryer. “I’ve never been to a summer camp.”

“Seriously?” Vivien wondered.

Carrie nodded, a smile forming as she spoke, “It always looks like so much fun in the movies, but there aren’t that many in Florida and my schedule was never the easiest to work around, so I never went. Is it like the movies?”

“In a way,” Vivien chuckled as she slid her hand into the dryer to her right. “Maybe I’ll show you it later.”

Carrie beamed, “I’d like that.”

Once the workers had finished painting matching planets on Carrie and Vivien’s nails in the opposite person’s chosen polish, they led the girls to the register where Vivien quickly insisted on paying, fighting Carrie for the spot closest to the card slot. Once everything was said and done, Vivien led the way back to the car as the girls talked, Carrie still arguing that she could have easily paid for herself while Vivien insisted that, since she was the one to suggest the girls’ day, she would be the one to pay. The girls slid into their seats in Vivien’s car and, after taking a couple of pictures of their matching nails together, Vivien started the vehicle and backed out of her parking space, slowly gliding the car toward the end of the driveway. As the town hall’s clock tower inched closer to three-thirty, the streets had begun to fill with people heading home from the lake to begin working on dinner. The driver of the blue Kona paid little mind to the people crossing the streets as she pulled onto the main street and followed the natural curves of the road toward the street she lived on. However, instead of turning onto Gray Road, Vivien continued the drive north for a while before turning onto a street off of the main stretch. The road was small and could only fit two cars if both vehicles drove into the ditch by about a foot, but Vivien drove down the empty street as though she had done so a million times before.

About fifteen minutes into the backroads drive, Vivien slowed and turned onto a dirt path, venturing further into the woods. Carrie looked around as pine needles filled the ground and wooden buildings became visible in the distance, clinging onto the door as the car jerked around the unpaved road. All at once, the blonde was reminded of an eighties horror movie they had watched not long ago with a vengeful killer hunting down summer camp counselors. Glancing at the brunette out of the corner of her eyes, Carrie fleetingly wondered if Vivien was bringing her out to the seemingly empty summer camp to recreate the gory film, but soon ruled it out as Vivien pulled to a stop in front of a large building.

“What is this place?” Carrie asked as they got out of the car.

“Camp Wanamaker,” Vivien claimed, pointing up at the roof of the structure before them. Sure enough, above the building was a large, wooden sign with the name of the camp and a welcoming smiley face surrounded by handprints that had faded over time.

“Your family’s camp,” Carrie recalled.

“Exactly!” Vivien chirped excitedly as she began walking toward the large log building. “I told you I would show you it later.”

“I thought you meant pictures,” Carrie breathed as she followed Vivien, her eyes flitting around for any sign of people yet finding none. No cars, no footprints on the ground, and nothing to show that anybody was currently on the property. As Vivien led the way to the building, Carrie glanced around once more and hesitantly wondered, “Are you sure we should be here?”

“Yeah, of course,” Vivien brushed off with a smile as she climbed the steps to the front door. Taking a look at Carrie’s concerned expression, Vivien let out a soft laugh before knocking on the front door of the large building before them. Turning back to the blonde, she smiled and told Carrie, “Relax; it’s just my family.”

Carrie took in a sharp breath as a deep bark sounded from inside the building, but as a voice called out from inside, telling the dog to be quiet, she visibly relaxed, something she was sure Vivien noticed if her grin was anything to go by. The heavy wooden door parted from the frame with a creak and an older man with long gray hair pulled into a low braid stepped outside, nudging the nose of a dog Carrie had to guess was probably a Shepherd of some sort back into the building. The older man looked as though he had stepped straight out of the seventies in his neutral-toned, fringed clothing, but he had the posture of a man that was to be respected.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t my favorite camper,” the man spoke, his smile spreading as he caught Vivien’s gaze.

“Hey, Grandpa,” Vivien greeted with a quick, two-fingered salute. “How are you holding up?”

“Healthy as a horse and strong as an ox, my little eaglet,” the man said, patting Vivien on the shoulder. Carrie supposed whatever the man had said meant that he was doing well, but as he turned his attention toward her, her train of thought jumped the track and her posture turned rigid under his gaze. “Now, who might this be?”

“Grandpa,” Vivien began, “this is my friend, Carrie. Carrie, this is my Grandpa George, he’s the owner and director of Camp Wanamaker. Most people call him Chief, though.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Carrie offered, holding her hand for the man to take.

“Likewise,” George replied, giving the blonde’s hand a firm shake before releasing her.

Stepping in to avoid any awkward silence, Vivien continued, “Carrie is visiting Makana’s family for the summer and I wanted to show her around if that’s alright?”

Nodding to his granddaughter, George smiled, “Of course. Just do me a favor and grab yourselves an ice cream from the snack bar up at the counselor lodge. Your Nonna has been chewing me out for eating it all the time, but if I say that I was giving it to you…”

“She won’t throw a fit today,” Vivien finished with a knowing nod.

“Exactly,” George finished with a smile. Reaching up, the man took Vivien’s face in his hands and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Thank you for understanding, my eaglet.”

“Always,” Vivien replied. “We’ll stop by before we leave to give Ding some treats.”

“He’ll be waiting for you,” George said, nodding toward the door beside him. “Have fun exploring, girls.”

“We will,” Vivien assured, taking Carrie’s hand in hers and guiding her away from the log building.

Following the well-worn trail through the camp, Carrie waited until they were far enough from the main building before asking, “Is Ding the dog we heard?”

“Yeah,” Vivien nodded. “He’s half German Shepherd and half-Rottweiler, but he’s one hundred percent stupid.”

Carrie nodded and, after stepping over a small log that had been used to line the trails through the camp, she asked, “Is he friendly?”

With an amused smile, Vivien turned to Carrie and sarcastically replied, “No, the huge boulder of a dog that spends every day surrounded by children is the spawn of Satan.” Snorting, Vivien chuckled and led Carrie toward a cabin with ‘Kittery Cabin’ written above it. “Seriously, though, Dopey Ding is the friendliest, dumbest dog known to mankind. He’s protective of the kids and is always wandering around the camp, begging for treats and table scraps. He’d sooner lick you to death than anything.”

“Dopey Ding?” Carrie chuckled. “Is that something you came up with?”

Vivien quickly shook her head, “Grandpa did. He’s big on nicknames. His real name isn’t even Ding.”

“It isn't?”

“Nope,” Vivien claimed with a smirk. “My Nonna named him King, but he’s walked into so many screen doors that Grandpa started calling him Dopey. Over time, the name Dopey Ding just sort of happened.”

“That’s kind of cute,” Carrie commented as Vivien pulled the screen door of the cabin open with an agreeing hum.

Following Vivien into the log cabin, Carie looked around, finding a room with bunk beds lining the walls and a single bed by the bathroom door. The room smelled of pine and freshly cut grass - scents that had come from the opened windows, no doubt - and had a cozy, welcoming aura to it. As Vivien moved around the cabin with practiced ease, Carrie felt as though she had missed out on whatever developments had happened in the cabin. The young brunette had probably spent the majority of her formative years in the cabin, staying up late telling ghost stories to scare her bunkmates, letting a girl she’d only known for a few days weave her hair into intricate braids before bed, and spending her free time in the nearby lake. Meanwhile, Carrie had spent most of her time in auditions or dance classes. Of course, Carrie had no regrets about the life she chose - she wouldn’t trade it for a thing - but the faint etchings on the wooden walls of the names of previous campers gave her a faint longing for the summer camp experience.

As Vivien knelt on the floor and lifted a panel of wood out of the way with a victorious giggle, Carrie’s attention drew back to the present. Leaning to the side to see what the brunette was looking at, Carrie crossed the room and asked, “What’s in there?”

Reaching into the open gap, Vivien smiled, “I left a box of stuff here when I was still a camper. I wanted to get it out since I’m not staying in this cabin anymore.”

“Where are you staying?” Carrie wondered.

Pulling out an old, rusting lunchbox and blowing some cobwebs and dust from it, Vivien shrugged, “I’m not sure yet. All I know is that I put in for the cabin by the lake so that I can claim the Moon House.”

“The what?”

“The Moon House.”

“Repeating the same thing doesn’t help me understand what you mean,” Carrie chuckled as Vivien rose to her feet and nudged the floorboard back into place with a swift stomp.

With a beaming smile, Vivien laughed, “The Moon House is a tree house that Riven and I built with my Nonna and Grandpa over the summer when I was seven. It’s a one-person cabin with a deck around it that we use as an observatory when the sky is clear enough.”

“I take it you enjoy it up there,” Carrie guessed.

“It’s like another world up there,” Vivien explained, her eyes filling with childlike wonder. “When the sky is clear, you can see all of the constellations and even some of the planets. Grandpa gave me this insanely cool telescope a while ago and we counted some of Saturn’s rings with it the other day, which was incredible. I mean, from up there, we’ve seen the International Space Station go by a couple of times, and, one time, we got to see the Aurora Borealis!”

“You really like space, don’t you?” Carrie questioned with a smile. When Vivien met her gaze with a curious tilt of her head, Carrie explained, “Erica mentioned earlier that you like astronauts, we got matching planets on our nails, and you were all excited about the roller rink having stars and stuff on the ceiling. It just seems like you really like space.”

Instantaneously, Vivien stalled as though a switch had flipped somewhere in her head and her excitement visibly dwindled as she uttered, “Sorry.”

Carrie’s smile faltered. “Why are you sorry?”

The sixteen-year-old shrugged, staring out the nearby window as she admitted, “I tend to ramble a lot about my interests and, when I get going, i have a rd time stopping. Some people find it a little annoying, so-”

“I don’t,” the blonde quickly assured. When green eyes met blue, she added, “I don’t know who told you that your interests are annoying, but they’re wrong.”

“I know,” Vivien sighed, her usually confident gaze drifting toward the floor. “I just don’t want to bore you to death, rambling on and on about stuff you don’t care about.”

“Who says I don’t care about space?” Carrie questioned, placing a hand on her hips.

Vivien’s eyebrow raised as though Carrie’s statement had thrown her for a loop. “You do?”

“I do,” Carrie replied with a firm nod. “I do because it interests you.”

Vivien scanned the blonde’s aqua eyes, searching for any sign of a lie, yet she displayed no obvious signs. Curiously, Vivien breathed, “Why?”

Instead of replying with a simple answer, Carrie responded with a series of questions, “Why do you listen to Bentley ramble on about watercolor paints and the differences between gouaches? Why do you pay attention to Royce when he goes on for hours about the history of photography?”

“Because I love them and I want them to know I care,” Vivien answered slowly.

“Exactly,” Carrie nodded, taking Vivien’s hands in hers. “I want to share your interests with you because I care about you.”

“Oh,” Vivien breathed, the tension in her shoulders easing as a small, barely noticeable smile tugged at her lips. “Well, maybe I can take you up to the Moon House before we leave.”

With a smile, Carrie nodded once more, “I’d like that.”

Vivien took in a breath and allowed herself to smile before tugging her hands from Carrie’s and bringing her arms around the blonde. After a pause of surprise, Carrie eased into the embrace, rocking them from one side to the other as she squeezed the brunette. As Vivien leaned away, she said, “Thank you.”

Before Carrie could say anything, the door to the cabin creaked open, and a soft, dulcet voice spoke, “I thought I heard voices in here.”

Carrie turned as Vivien’s eyes lit up like fireworks on the Fourth of July, finding a woman standing in the doorway with dark hair long enough to sit on and a fond smile on her face. “Nonna!” Vivien squealed, abandoning her station beside Carrie, crossing the room in just a few strides, and throwing herself at her grandmother. Carrie’s smile only broadened as she watched the older woman lift Vivien off of her feet for a moment, the woman’s strength taking even Vivien by surprise as the young brunette let out a squeak.

As Vivien’s grandmother leaned out of the embrace, she took Vivien’s face in her hands and pressed their foreheads together, humming, “My little eagle, you’ve grown.”

“It’s been three weeks, Nonna,” Vivien laughed.

“Yet you’ve still grown.”

“Maybe a centimeter.”

Vivien’s Nonna backed away, tapping a finger under Vivien’s chin as she commented, “Growth doesn’t always have to be physical, darling.” Vivien nodded, relenting to her grandmother’s wise words as the woman’s attention drifted toward the blonde who remained stationed on the other side of the cabin. “Who is this?”

Vivien brought an arm around her Nonna and turned to Carrie with a smile, “This is Carrie. I told you about her last time I came over, remember? She’s visiting Mick’s family.”

“Ah, yes,” the woman breathed. Looking Carrie up and down with a gentle smile, the woman nodded. “Such a lovely young fox.”

“Fox?” Carrie wondered.

Stepping forward, Vivien asked, “Remember how I was telling you that Grandpa George is good with nicknames?” Carrie nodded. “Well, Nonna Dawn is good at seeing a person for who they are. She assigns people an animal that she feels suits them.”

“So,” Carrie slowly began, “I’m a fox?”

The older woman nodded, a simple gesture that held so much authority that Carrie felt no need to question her further. However, as Dawn reached out to the blonde, her meaning became clear. “A fox, in our culture, represents an untameable, quick-witted person who retains the feminine magic of camouflage. You, my dear, are the perfect image of a fox just as my Vivien is the visage of a young eagle.”

“An eaglet,” Carrie muttered, reciting the term from when she had met the woman’s husband earlier.

Dawn gave an impressed smile as she nodded, “An intelligent, spirited, and courageous risk-taker.”

“Sounds about right,” Carrie snickered, sparing a glance at Vivien who stood almost awkwardly to the side, uncomfortable with the attention now on her. 

“Anyway,” Vivien tried, hoping to divert the conversation, “I was just going to show Carrie the Moon House.”

With a glimmering smile and a twinkle in her eyes, Dawn clapped her hands together and gestured toward the door, “I suppose we should get a move on, then.”

Vivien picked her rusty lunchbox from the bed she’d abandoned it on and led the way from the cabin, beginning the trek through the darkening trails toward the river she had spent so much time canoeing in growing up. As they walked, Vivien and her grandmother gave Vivien a tour, showing her the swimming pool, the arts and crafts barn, the library, and a couple of other cabins before turning down toward the lakeside beach. Through the lines of trees and cabins, the lake came into view, the setting sun glimmering off of the surface as though someone had poured glitter into the water. As they approached the water and the sound of cicadas filled the air, Carrie spotted a long, fairly new-looking cabin on the edge of the lake and a large set of trees just behind it with a small wooden shack built between the branches. According to Vivien’s grandmother, the appropriately-named Lakeside Lodge was large enough to fit eight people in individual rooms and was originally intended to be used for families to rent out, yet as time went on, the cabin was used as extra housing during the camp’s more occupied weeks.

Carrie was quick to compliment the appearance of the small cabin in the trees, her usual smile taking over as Vivien’s pride as a builder visibly swelled. Before she could climb the tree, Vivien turned to her grandmother and asked, “Nonna, do you have the keys to the Hill House on you?”

“Of course,” Dawn replied, reaching into her pocket and producing a single key on a chain with a single, silver eagle dangling next to it.

“Are you sure it’s alright?”

Dawn chuckled, holding the keys out to her granddaughter with a smile, “It’s all yours.”

Vivien thanked her grandmother as she took the keys from her and, as Carrie turned toward the women, she said, “Thank you for letting me visit your camp.”

“Oh, anytime!” Dawn started with a wave of her hand. “It’s a place to get away from the everyday hustle and bustle the world forces upon you. If you need a break, feel free to stop by sometime.”

“I will,” Carrie replied, smiling at the older woman.

Dawn reached up and tapped the edge of Carrie’s nose with a grin, “I’ll hold you to that.”

Vivien thanked her grandmother once more, wrapping her in a tight hug and allowing the woman to press their foreheads together one last time before separating. After telling her grandmother she loved her, Vivien began the climb up the side of the tree to the Moon House, showing Carrie the safest route up the tree. Before Carrie could begin her ascent, however, Dawn stopped her with a hand on the blonde’s shoulder and a mischievous smile that instantly proved where Vivien got hers. “Watch this,” the woman whispered to Carrie. Turning toward Vivien, Dawn spoke loudly, “Vivien, darling, when are you planning on bringing your mystery boyfriend to visit?”

In response, Vivien’s concentration evaporated and she quickly latched onto a branch as her footing faltered. Letting out a soft curse, Vivien stared down at her grandmother in disbelief as Carrie fought to contain her amusement. “What the heck, Nonna?!”

“Well,” Dawn began, “you talk so much about him. I just wanted to see if your grandfather and I were going to be meeting him while he’s visiting.”

Vivien let out a long breath as she tried to focus on the task at hand, “He and his family are coming with me to camp this summer; I thought I told you that when I called you on Saturday.”

“Oh, that’s right,” Dawn drawled as she turned her twinkling gaze toward Carrie. “I suppose that means that you will be there as well, right, darling?”

Carrie’s bewilderment at the question must have shone through as she chuckled nervously. However, it was Vivien who quickly answered, “Yeah, she will.”

“I will?” Carrie wondered, her gaze snapping up to the young brunette as Vivien reached the deck around the tree house. Vivien simply nodded, to which Carrie turned to Dawn and said, “I guess I will.”

“It’ll be nice to get to know you over the summer, in that case,” Dawn said with a nod. Gesturing toward the tree, the woman continued, “I suppose I should leave you two to your extraterrestrial explorations for now.”

“Thank you,” Carrie said graciously, stepping carefully over the exposed roots that poked out from the ground underneath the treehouse as she inched her way closer to the climbing points Vivien had shown her.

Dawn turned to leave once she was sure Vivien could help the blonde into the treehouse and, once the woman had disappeared down the trail, Vivien showed Carrie the inside of the Moon House. A starry night sky had been painted on the ceiling long before Carrie’s visit, tiny plastic stars decorating the expanse in a faint glow, the walls were a peaceful shade of blue, and the floor was decorated with a fluffy rug that faintly reminded Carrie of the shag carpeting they had in abundance back home. Dark, navy curtains were pulled tightly together over the windows, keeping the room cooler than the outside world. On the wall furthest from the door was a four-poster, canopy-style bed with lace-like fabric draped around it and a white sheet tacked to the ceiling directly above it. The small room was decorated with stickers and posters that seemed to fit the space-loving personality Vivien possessed, but apart from the sparse decorations, the room was entirely bare.

After giving Carrie a moment to look around, Vivien took the blonde by the hand and pulled her toward the bare mattress, urging her to lie down. Once Carrie had reclined on the mattress, staring up at the white sheet that had been pinned to the ceiling, Vivien slid into the space beside her with a smile. Turning to the blonde, she asked, “What do you think?”

Carrie let out a breath of a laugh, “I think it suits you.”

“You haven’t even seen the best part,” Vivien chuckled. Turning to her side, she reached for the bedside table and pulled a remote and a set of batteries from the drawer, slotting the batteries into the back panel of the remote before aiming toward the headboard and pressing the power button. Carrie watched Vivien curiously for a moment, but as the brunette nodded toward the sheet above them, Carrie found herself watching a replica of the night sky.

“This must be fun to watch at night,” Carrie breathed.

“I only use this during the day or on cloudy nights,” Vivien shrugged. “Most nights, we get the real deal.”

The pair stayed there for a while, watching the false nighttime sky above them and simply enjoying each other’s presence. Then, as though she’d thought of something funny, Carrie softly chuckled. Vivien’s brow rose in a silent question and the blonde shook her head with a smile, “I was just thinking that this day has turned out to be so much better than the plans I had made for it.”

Vivien let out a laugh, “If I hadn’t come over, you probably would have been watching some boring movie on TV or something, waiting for the others to get home.”

“Or I would have let Miles convince me to go out on the boat with them,” Carrie sighed. “I’d have been shoved in the water more than once and sprayed down with water guns like I’d been lit on fire.”

Vivien snickered and, in the silence that followed, she turned toward Carrie and took in the older girl’s faraway expression. It was clear the blonde was deep in thought, most likely thinking about how the day would have gone if it hadn’t been for Vivien’s intervention. Hoping to bring Carrie back out of her thoughts, Vivien smiled and said, “You know, I think the boys are just testing their limits with you.”

“What do you mean?” Carrie questioned, curiously meeting Vivien’s emerald gaze.

“A while back, my siblings went through this phase where they did nothing but argue and push my parents' buttons,” Vivien explained. “They wanted to see how far they could go before Mom and Dad would yell at them or fight back.”

“That must have been fun to deal with,” Carrie chuckled.

“Oh yeah,” Vivien claimed with a roll of her eyes. “Anyway, I think that’s what the boys are doing with you. I can’t speak for Butchy, obviously, but I have a good feel for how Royce and Bentley think these days.”

“You do, huh?”

The younger girl nodded as she rolled onto her stomach to see Carrie better, “Bentley usually is fairly relaxed and easy-going, but he’s attached to Royce like a remora on a manta ray. If Royce doesn’t care for someone, Bentley doesn’t care for someone. However, he also trusts Miles’ opinions on everything. I think that’s why he bounces back and forth between liking you and not wanting you around.”

Turning onto her side, Carrie stated, “It depends on who he’s with.”

“Exactly,” Vivien claimed. “If he’s with Miles, he’ll be friendly enough and treat you the way Miles wants him to. If he’s with Royce, he’ll act like he can’t stand having you around. When he’s with both of them, there’s a conflict of interest and he has to play his behavior like a game of ping pong - bouncing back and forth between mannerisms.”

Carrie thought about the idea for a while. There had been many instances when she had spent time with Miles and Bentley alone where it seemed as though Bentley had been actually warming up to her. Then, the moment Royce would walk into the room, a switch would flip and Bentley would go back to behaving like a stone wall, blocking her from making any further advancements in their relationship. How had she not seen it before? It was so obvious! Letting out a scoff of disbelief, Carrie murmured, “That makes a lot of sense.”

“It really makes the puzzle pieces fall together, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Carrie breathed. Turning her gaze back to the smirking girl before her, Carrie asked, “What about Royce?”

Pushing herself onto her elbows, Vivien took in a deep breath and sighed, “I actually know his reasoning quite well.”

“You do?” Carrie questioned. “That’s good, though, isn’t it?”

Vivien shrugged, “In a way. But, first, I’m going to need to explain how I see it.” With Carrie’s nod of understanding, Vivien began, “First things first, I need you to know that my parents aren’t biologically my parents.”

“They aren’t?” Carrie wondered. “But you look just like-”

“My mom?” Vivien finished. When Carrie nodded, Vivien smiled, “That’s because my biological mom is my mom’s twin sister, my Aunt Hayley.”

“Did they adopt you or something?”

“No,” Vivien replied easily. “You see, they thought they couldn’t have kids. I guess they had tried for a couple of years with no luck, so my aunt asked them if they would like her to step in as a surrogate.”

“And they did,” Carrie surmised.

Vivien nodded, “They did.”

“So, what happened?”

Taking in a long breath, Vivien sighed, “Things were great for a long time. I would stay at her place every weekend, we would go see movies together when my parents were working, and she always made time for me. Then, when I was almost nine, she introduced us to this girl she had recently begun seeing.”

Realization flooded Carrie’s face as she breathed, “Oh.”

“Yeah,” Vivien chuckled. “I’m sure you can see where this is going.”

“I can,” Carrie nodded.

“Anyway,” Vivien continued with a small smile, “her name was Charlotte and everyone called her Charlie. Almost right away, I didn’t like her. She was nothing like the person I thought my aunt would get together with. My aunt was this rebellious badass with a love of exploration who wasn’t afraid to get dirty and Charlie was like a walking Barbie doll. At the time, she had these bright pink box braids, she wore more makeup than I had seen in my lifetime, and she was always singing something every time I saw her. After a while, Aunt Hayley started spending more time with Charlie and less time with me and, when we did hang out, Charlie tagged along. I hated the thought of Charlie taking up all of my aunt’s spare time, so I retaliated the only way I could think of.”

“Pushing the limits?”

“Bingo.”

“How did it work?” Carrie asked.

Vivien let out a snort, “It didn’t. Charlie’s a strong woman and didn’t back down from my challenges. There were times when I would directly tell her to her face that I hated her and hoped Aunt Hayley would break up with her, but she never wavered. If anything, she tried to get closer to me.”

“Did you let her?”

“Not at first,” Vivien replied. “It took almost two years for me to not see her as the enemy.”

Carrie seemed to perk up at that, sitting up a bit as she asked, “What changed?”

“We talked.”

“Talked?”

“About everything that was keeping us from being closer,” Vivien explained. “Aunt Hayley had to go to work one morning on a day I was supposed to visit her and, although she had made me promise that I would be good for her girlfriend, when she left, I took out my frustration on Charlie. I eventually apologized and we ended up smacking each other around with couch cushions, airing out our issues with each other every time we hit the other person. It was like therapy and, in the end, everything was resolved.”

“Were you closer after that?” Carrie nervously pressed.

Instead of answering directly, Vivien pulled her phone from her back pocket and opened her photo album, scrolling back through more than a few images before landing on one and turning her phone toward Carrie with a smile. In the photograph, Viven stood under a floral archway in a floor-length, coral gown with her hair woven into intricate braids and a brilliant smile on her face. To her left was a woman in an elegant, white jumpsuit that must have been Vivien’s biological mother as they looked practically identical. To Vivien’s right was a woman in an elegant ivory ball gown with glowing mocha skin and flowing coral braids who had a stunning smile on her face and an arm around Vivien’s waist. Swiping to the next image, Vivien showed Carrie a picture of the two brides leaning in to kiss Vivien on either cheek.

Smiling at the pictures, Carrie commented, “I guess you get along pretty well.”

“We do,” Vivien confirmed as she pulled her phone back and slipped it back into her pocket. “I was Charlie’s maid-of-honor last March.” 

“Where are they now?”

“New York,” Vivien smiled. “They went to see Hamilton on their honeymoon last year and now they’re hooked on Broadway shows.”

“Do you see them often?”

“Mhm,” Vivien hummed as she nodded. “During the school year, they pick me up on Fridays and I spend the weekend at their house in Laconia. Over the summer, they usually either take me on road trips and stuff or they work here, helping Grandpa and Nonna as medical staff or lifeguards.”

“What do they do for jobs that they have so much free time?” Carrie asked.

“They work from home now,” Vivien shrugged. “Aunt Hayley works as an engineering manager for a wire company and Aunt Charlie writes adventure books for kids.”

“They must have a lot of fun.”

“They do, but that isn’t the point,” Vivien said. “The point is, if I can get over my fear of Charlie taking Aunt Hayley away from me, Royce will eventually get over his fear of you taking Miles from him.”

“Do you really think that’s what the problem is?” Carrie wondered.

Slowly nodding, Vivien claimed, “I do. I mean, put yourself in their shoes. Royce and Bentley left South Carolina in search of a home with their brother - a safe haven. Then, when they get there, they find you in their safe place, wearing Miles’ clothes, and taking a place in Miles’ heart that they thought only belonged to the two of them. It must have been like a slap to the face to think that, after being away from them for two years, Miles wasn’t just focused on taking care of them anymore.”

Taking in a slow, deep breath, Carrie pushed herself to sit up and asked, “What do you suggest I do to make them like me?”

“It could be easier to work with Bentley first,” Vivien suggested as she sat cross-legged on the bare mattress. “He’s less likely to tear you apart with his words. If you can get through to him on a more sisterly level, he might be able to help you sway Royce.”

“Royce is the one I have the hardest time with,” Carrie sighed. 

“That’s why you need Bentley,” Vivien stated with a smirk. “Bentley is Royce’s weakness.”

“Weakness?”

Vivien nodded, “A while back, we were skating on the pond by their house and Bentley fell through the ice.”

“Was he okay?” Carrie pressed.

Vivien smiled and nodded, “He was, but you should talk to him about it if you want the full story. Anyway, the point is, Royce was ready to jump in after him and, if I hadn’t stopped him, he would have. Royce would do anything for Bentley and, if you can use that to your advantage, you might end up getting through to him by the end of the year.”

Carrie’s smile faltered, “Do you really think it will take us that long to get through this?”

“It might,” the brunette shrugged as she pushed herself from the mattress. “But that gives you six months to really try to get to know them and figure out a breaking point. From what I remember of staying for the summer in your world, you’re pretty good at adapting to new things. If you start working on it now - who knows? Maybe you’ll get through this whole game of tug-of-war sooner rather than later.”

Smiling at the thought of finally having some sort of breakthrough with her boyfriend’s brothers, Carrie rose from the bed and followed Vivien outside to the deck that surrounded the cabin. They stayed up there for a while as Vivien showed her the camp’s main attractions from the higher viewpoint, but when the time came to head out, Carrie couldn’t help but feel as though she was going to miss the summer camp. Well, until the unexpected stay she was being dragged into by the young brunette.

The walk back toward the car was stopped more than once as the girls entered a few of the buildings along the way. They made sure to stop and take ice cream from the freezer in the counselor lodge before continuing down the trail, turning right instead of left when they came to the fork in the path so that Vivien could show Carrie the dance studio and fitness center. Eventually, they made it back to the main office where they met back up with Vivien’s grandparents and their loyal mountain of a dog as they lounged on the back deck. Treats were given to the friendly mutt once he shook Carrie’s hand and, in exchange, the girls were gifted a picnic basket filled with drinks, a pair of cheeseburgers, a couple of small snack bags, and a plastic bowl filled with deep-fried pickles - a specialty food Vivien’s grandfather always made.

By the time they made it to Vivien’s car, the air was beginning to chill and the sun was beginning to set. Driving back down the unpaved, dirt road, Vivien asked, “So, what do you think?”

“I didn’t think I would enjoy it as much as I did,” Carrie smiled. “And your grandparents were so lovely as well. It was fun.”

Vivien chuckled, “It’s definitely one of my favorite places to go when I need a break from the world.”

“I can see why,” Carrie commented, relaxing into the car’s comfortable seats. Taking a last breath of the woodsy air, Carrie sighed, “This day has been so much fun.”

Turning to her blonde friend as she reached the end of the street, Vivien smirked, “You’re saying that like we’re done for the day.”

“We aren’t?” Carrie asked. When Vivien shook her head and turned the car in the opposite direction of town, she asked, “What else could you possibly have planned?”

Reaching into her front pocket, Vivien produced the set of keys her grandmother had given her with a smile, handing them to Carrie. “We’ve got the keys to the castle for a couple of hours.”

“The castle?” Carrie wondered, examining the silver eagle that dangled from the keychain. “What castle?”

Vivien’s car accelerated in response and, after a moment of silence, Vivien pointed to a spot in the distance that became visible to Carrie just a moment later as they passed the last row of trees. On top of a small hill, set far back from the road was a stately home with neatly trimmed bushes lining the front of the house and a pair of large horse statues perched on pillars at the end of the driveway. The house was ornate and pristine and its architecture screamed of old money, something Carrie never associated with Vivien or her family. However, as Vivien slowly turned into the driveway, Carrie knew this house on the hill had to have belonged to the kind, simplistic people she had met at the camp just down the road.

“As I said,” Vivien began, “we’ve got the keys to the castle.”

As the car pulled to a stop in front of the building, Carrie unlatched her seatbelt and got out of the car, staring in bewildered amazement at the expansive property before her. Vivien rounded the car with a smile, nudging Carrie with an elbow to bring her back to the present. The blonde turned to her younger friend with a laugh of disbelief, “When you said you had things covered today, I didn’t think you were going to rent us a mansion for the night.”

Vivien chuckled and took the keys from Carrie’s hand, shaking her head as she headed toward the front steps, “I didn’t. I own the place.”

Confused, Carrie followed the brunette up the front steps to the door, “You mean, your grandparents own the place.”

Sliding the key into the door and pushing the entrance open, Vivien shrugged, “Until I turn eighteen, they are the primary owners, but my name is already on the deed.”

Following Vivien into the house, Carrie gestured with her arms as she asked, “So until you’re eighteen, you’re the partial owner of all of this?”

“This and the camp,” Vivien corrected as she closed the door and locked it. “They own both properties.”

“And they’ve promised to give both of them to you already?”

“The house, yes,” Vivien nodded, leading Carrie through the house. “The camp, sort of.”

“Sort of?”

“They want me and my siblings to take it over once we’re ready, but until then, they’re going to stay in charge.”

In a state of disbelief, Carrie looked around at the cozy atmosphere the home radiated as they passed through different rooms and entered a long hallway. Briefly, she wondered if Royce knew about the house, but as Vivien pushed open a glass door leading to the backyard, the thought fled from her mind. Just past a covered sitting area was a large swimming pool that overlooked most of the town, the sun slowly setting in the distance. Despite her friend’s astonishment, Vivien set up their picnic by the pool so that they could sit with their legs in the water and simply waited for Carrie to join her. Eventually, the blonde’s legs dangled over the edge of the pool and Vivien handed her a cheeseburger to eat as they watched the skyline gradually turn a shade of orange.

After a while, Carrie broke the silence, “This place is beautiful.”

Sparing a glance at her friend, Vivien nodded, swallowing her bite of food before saying, “We do a lot of family parties up here.” Carrie gave a nod in understanding and, after a while of silence, Vivien meekly said, “You know, other than my family, nobody knows about this place. Not even Royce and Bentley.”

“I’m the first person you’ve brought up here?” Carrie questioned.

“Yeah,” Vivien nodded. “Eventually, once my grandparents move into the cabin they’re building on the camp property and I have this place to myself, I want to have everyone over here. Mick and her family, Miles and the boys, you, my band - everyone.”

Taking in the glimmer of excitement flowing through the brunette’s eyes, Carrie asked, “You’re really excited to live up here, huh?”

“I am,” the green-eyed girl nodded. Suddenly, her gaze fell to the water below them as she swung her legs back and forth mindlessly, “I just- I don’t know how on earth I would tell Royce.”

“I’m sure he wouldn’t be upset about it,” Carrie chuckled. “He adores you and, if this place makes you happy, I’m sure he’ll be just as happy.”

“I know,” Vivien paused to sigh, “but I can picture myself living out the rest of my life with him. I don’t want him to feel trapped here, away from his family, just because I like it here.”

“You do realize there is a machine that can bring you both back and forth if you want to, right?” Carrie wondered rhetorically.

With a roll of her eyes, Vivien replied, “Yes.”

“Then I don’t see the issue,” Carrie spoke. “You two can stay here for a while and then come to visit us. Things don’t have to be black and white all the time.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Vivien shrugged.

“I like hearing those words,” Carrie sighed happily, earning a chuckle from Vivien. Putting on a more earnest tone, Carrie said, “Seriously, though, I’m sure Royce and the others will love this place when you decide to show them. I know I do.”

Taking a deep breath and relaxing, Vivien picked up her bottle of soda and brought it between her and Carrie with a smile. Allowing herself to smile as well, the blonde brought her bottle to meet Vivien’s, the two girls tapping the plastic necks together before taking a sip. Once the food was done, the trash taken care of, and the mood relaxed, the girls watched the sunset as the sun melted over the horizon. They spent a while by the pool, splashing each other with swift kicks into the chlorinated water before Vivien decided to give Carrie a tour of the property, showing her around the upper floor where all of the bedrooms were before taking her down to the living areas and, eventually, the basement game room. They settled in the living room once the tour was over, watching Grease on the big screen Vivien’s grandparents had purchased for weekly football watch parties.

Long after the sky had begun to darken and Vivien’s grandparents had returned to their home for the evening, the girls slid lazily into Vivien’s car and sang along to the movie’s soundtrack as they drove back toward town. They stopped along the way to grab milkshakes at the town’s only drive-thru restaurant - McDonald’s - before making the few-minute drive to Gray Road. Pulling into the Birch family’s driveway, Vivien turned the music down and rolled up the windows of her car, rolling to a stop behind the blue Jeep Miles loved so much. The girls retrieved their things from the car and made their way inside, returning everyone’s greetings with incoherent mumblings that could barely be considered English. Once their purchases from the mall were deposited on the floor, Vivien took a spot on the plush rug with Royce and Bentley, both of whom seemed eager to have her back by their sides. Carrie, on the other hand, found her way to the kitchen where she stocked away some Japanese soda Vivien had bought her at the mall, telling her that she just had to try it.

Carrie turned toward the living room and watched from afar as Vivien spoke animatedly with Royce and Bentley who seemed just as eager to tell her about their day on the lake as she did about her day with Carrie. She smiled; the young trio worked in mysterious ways, Carrie was just glad that they worked so well together despite the differences between them. As Miles sauntered into the kitchen with a visible sunburn on his cheeks, Carrie smiled and shook her head, allowing her boyfriend’s arms to come around her waist as he pressed a feather-light kiss to her forehead.

“You look like a tomato,” she teased.

“And you look exhausted,” Miles shot back.

“You try getting that child to sit still for more than ten minutes.”

“I’ve tried and failed multiple times,” Miles chuckled, bringing an arm around Carrie’s shoulder as he turned to stand beside her and watch the kids in the other room. “Just be thankful you didn’t bring her to the Museum of Science and History back in Jacksonville. You would have been on your feet from the minute they opened until the minute they closed.”

“You’re speaking from experience?” Carrie surmised.

Miles hummed his confirmation, pressing a kiss to Carrie’s curls and softly asking, “Did you at least have a good day?”

“I think we both did,” Carrie muttered, nodding against Miles’ shoulder. “We talked a lot and I feel like I really got to know her.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Carrie took a deep breath and smiled, “She’s a great kid.”

“I’m sure Vivien would say the same about you.”

Peering at Miles with an amused smile and a raised eyebrow, she wondered, “She would think I’m a great kid?”

Rolling his eyes, Miles sighed exasperatedly, “Oh great, now you two share a sense of humor.”

Carrie stepped away from Miles with a smile, turning back toward him as she reached the threshold of the living room and uttering in a mockingly serious voice, “Keep up the sarcasm, mister, and you won’t see anything I bought from that Spencer’s store in the mall.”

“You two went to Spencer’s?” Miles asked in astonishment.

“You’re familiar with it?”

If the sunburn on his face hadn’t already tinged his face a shade of crimson, Miles was sure his cheeks would have burned as he quietly admitted, “I had an encounter with the back of the store the first time Mick brought me to the mall.”

A teasing smirk tugged at Carrie’s lips as she met Miles’ eyes and said, “Then you know what kind of things I may or may not have just bought.”

Miles’ gaze flickered over Carrie’s shoulder to where his brothers and Vivien were sitting, rifling through the bags the pair had brought back from their day trip. His eyes drew back to Carrie’s as she leaned against the doorway, lowering his voice as he asked, “You didn’t actually, did you?”

“I didn’t, but, if I had, I wouldn’t have left it where they could find it,” Carrie relented, smiling as she watched him take a breath of relief. “I did get a few things for you and the boys, though.”

“You did?” Miles questioned to which Carrie nodded. “Like what?”

“You’ll find out eventually,” Carrie replied, turning on her heel and heading back toward the living room.

From behind her, Carrie could hear Miles sputter out a string of jumbled words, pleading for her to tell him as he followed her into the other room, but she paid him no mind as she took a spot on the floor with the kids, watching them pour through the items she and Vivien had bought during their time in the mall. Although she earned more than one confused glance from Royce and Bentley and a couple of offers of a spot on the couch, Carrie gently refused, opting to sit on the floor with the teenagers and help them as Vivien sorted through who had bought what. As though it were second nature, Vivien brought Carrie into the conversations she was having with the boys on either side of her, making it an easy transition for the boys to talk with the blonde as well. Carrie felt herself relax as, gradually, Royce and Bentley warmed up to having her as a part of their conversation with Vivien. As the boys laughed at a joke Carrie had made about the incident at the miniature golf course, the blonde glanced over at the young brunette across from her and noticed Vivien grinning knowingly back at her. Returning the smile with one of her own, Carrie knew it wouldn't be long before the two of them decided to have another girls’ day.

#writing #one-shot #Happy Birthday!!!

[kineats]

Okay hi !! This might be a strange and very specific request, but i really don't have an idea of what to do ahah

So I am a Coastal Wolf therian, a werewolfkin and a demonkin (probably a fallen angel, tbh i also relate A LOT to crowley from good omens). I was born in fall, and my birthday is coming soon. Thing is, I have no idea what to choose for my menu, except that I know I would like it to kind of remind me of my kintypes.

So any comfort fall/winter meals for a wolf, a demon (that's actually very nice) or both. Since it's for my birthday party (with only my close friends), a drink and one or two sweet options (maybe a cake!!) would also be very nice!!

Just a little thing, please avoid cheese and anything too spicy :)

I would be so so grateful you would win the eternal respect of this creature - sincerely, H

Hey! I'm sorry for not seeing this sooner -- I'm going to do this one out of order since it's time sensitive.

Sorry for not announcing my hiatus, I got a new job unexpectedly that's been taking all my time and energy to adjust to! I'm just getting into the swing of things, so blog is officially open again!!

Hello fellow fallen angel friend!! Let me see what I can do for ya!

Savory Dishes:

Bone-Exposed BBQ Chicken Drumsticks -- Or, alternatively: Holiday Spiced and Ale Glazed version of them! (Or any frenched drumstick recipe using fall spices that you like!)

"Devils on Horseback" -- dates or prunes wrapped in bacon!

Beef Rib Roast (takes a day or two advanced prep!)

Red Potato Cottage Fries

Sage and Garlic Roasted Sweet Potatoes

Bacon-Caramelized Brussel Sprouts

One of my favorite molasses rye breads ever

Pasta with Bacon and Radicchio (personally I'd use this sauce on it!)

Butternut Squash Soup with Pancetta

and for the coastal wolf: Baked Trout with Roe!

Sweet Dishes and Cakes!:

Brooklyn Blackout Cake (best served with This Sauce using Cherries and Raspberries!)

Fall-Spiced Shoofly Pie

Apple Bundt Cake

Cranberry Crumble

Drinks -- ** Means Alcoholic!!:

Fall Mocktail

Cinnamon Tea

Autumn Sangria**

The Blizzard**

Slow Cooker Wassail -- or maybe even FANCY Wassail**!

I hope I'm not too late, friend! Maybe these will inspire you into a wonderful dinner plan!

#demonkin #fallen angelkin #wolfkin #therian #wolf therian #otherkin food #otherkin #recipes #kin stuff #caninekin #therianthropy #canine therian

[thefinalsnart]

hello snart my beloved!!!! 🧡 hows ur day? is it as cold at ur place? we've gotten snow today!! :0 for the ask game, how about peach parfait, creme caramel and taiyaki??? 🌱🧡 - @alienaiver 🥰✨

Hello Nohr!! :D 🩷 it’s not too cold here today, most of our snow has melted again, but it’s been SUPER windy! Some transport trucks were blown off the roads up the coast from where I live. I’ve been traveling on the bus today and thankfully we have not toppled over 🫡 And I saw that it’s been cold your way!! I hope your heater gets fixed, it’s too cold!! 😖

peach parfait ー name a song/album that you associate with a period time in your life & why

Ouuu!! For a song, “Put a Flower in Your Pocket” by The Arcs reminds me of being in art school, especially like. 2016-2018. Same with “Bassem Sabry” by of Montreal, my professor had it in the figure model drawing playlist.

For an album, I was a HUUUGE Avril Lavigne fan when I was a kid. I think my parents bought Let Go for my older emo sister, but she didn’t like her so I ended up getting it. I was 5 years old LMAO. So Avril was pretty much the soundtrack to my early years.

crème caramel ー describe your favorite breakfast

I was going to say pancakes— which I do love so much— but I just had the memory of eating toutons at my Nan’s house and. Yeah. Toutons are pan fried bread dough and you eat them like a pancake, with syrup or molasses. When I was a kid I would eat them with syrup AND sugar. Now I just have em with syrup. It’s been so long since I’ve had them but now I have a craving 😩

I also love an open toast sandwich— scrambled eggs and avocado and cheese… it’s all gooey and then the bread gives it crunch so it isn’t sensory hell. Loves it!

taiyaki — which anime/manga character do you feel best represents your personality & why?

In another ask I said my main one was Miranda Lotto, but some other characters I relate to a lot are: Tendou Satori from Haikyuu, Alma Karma from D.Gray-Man, Ritsu from K-On, and Usagi and Makoto from Sailor Moon! 💕

Hehe thank you for the ask Nohr!! 💖

#Snart asks #snart answers #Snart friends #Snart friends: Nohr🧶🧡

[focsle]

The mention of whale oil doughnuts has inspired me to write yet another long thing laden with primary sources about whaleship fare, ALRIGHT!!

TL;DR, it sucked!

Albert Peck, a foremast hand on the Covington in 1856 was so kind as to write down the weekly menu aboard:

“Our daily diet on board ship was as follows: On Mondays, rice for dinner, with beef and a little pork, a barrel of pork having to last as long as two of beef. Tuesday, boiled beans. Wednesdays, peas, and when these failed, rice. Thursdays, boiled flour pudding called Duff. Fridays, beans again. Saturdays, codfish and potatoes and Sundays, duff again. Breakfast, we had either potatoes and meat hashed up together, with coffee, or scouse, a mess made of ship bread soaked overnight and boiled up in the morning with beef cut up, and sliced potatoes. For supper, hard bread and beef with tea and plenty of molasses, each man being allowed a quart a week, which was amply sufficient if not wasted, and besides this we had extra messes such as a sea pie when a hog was killed, soft bread, pickles, +c.”

By way of variety, there wasn’t much to be found on a whaleship menu. Adding to the monotony the food was often in a very poor condition. William Abbe, greenhand on board the Atkins Adams in 1858, who I’ve talked about at length for his food descriptions of both the good and the ugly, can always be relied upon in expanding on the condition of his meals in the most visceral way possible.

“Our duff this noon, heavy + watery was literally filled with dirt and cockroaches. I didn’t eat a morsel of the filthy food—but sat laughing at the discoveries the fellows made as they carefully sliced their duff— ‘Hullo, heres a piece of old Thompson’s [the cook] hat” cried Johnny — “Here’s a big worm! — Look at these cockroaches!” “I’ve bit a cockroach in two—“ “Let’s make Thompson eat em when he comes below,” came from different empty mouths, while all hands roared out as Curly, finding to his disgust he was munching a boiled cockroach dashed to the slop bucket + holding out his joggy duff cried — “Who wants my duff? Does you Tom?” + finding no purchasers flung his duff into the bucket.”

On multiple whaleships the cook drew the ire of all aboard for the condition of the food. Sometimes it was from a lack of care in the cleanliness and preparation of it, largely it was because it was almost impossible to keep vermin out of the kitchen on a whaleship no matter how clean, and at all times the cook’s orders were tied to what the captain supplied him.

J.T. Langdon of the ship St Peter, 1849, was aware of the limitations of the cook based entirely on how those aft managed food, and talked about it at bitter length.

“The “Old Man” had another rough turn with the steward this morning about grub. The [crossed out—bloody miserable] old crone seems to want us to live on nothing. Nearly the same as we have lived on for the past 30 odd months. When we first came out a number of bushels of turnips and a quantity of pumpkins were left to rot rather than give them to the men; and since we have been out here too, recruits of sweet potatoes have been left in the nettings to spoil rather than the men forward should have them to eat. Such men should have their teeth pulled out and fed on slops.”

Fresh fruits, vegetables, and cheeses were picked up at various ports that whaleships would occasionally stop in for provisions. It wasn’t uncommon for whaleships to also have livestock on board such as chickens or pigs who on many instances free-roamed on the deck, sticking their hungry snouts into the pans of men eating there. In the Galapagos, whalers picked up tortoises (and played a significant role in devastating that population, believed to have taken over 100,000 tortoises between the 1780s-1860s). Fish would sometimes be caught as well, such as skipjacks, albacore, and mahi mahi (which whalers referred to in their personal accounts as porpoises or dolphins). However, fish were not considered a reliable food source to serve a whole crew and usually found themselves on the menu just because someone dropped a line down when they were bored and caught/harpooned one. 

But fresh provisions soon ran dry, and it was back to breaking out the dubious casks stored below.

“Found a few bbls of meat that smelled more like carrion than beef, and the “Old Man” told the cook to use that first. I think twill go down rather hard.”

J.T. Langdon wrote, adding to his anger about the condition of the food they had to eat. In the case of the St. Peter the crew refused to eat this spoiled beef, and organized as a collective body to tell the captain such.

“After supper this evening we all went aft to see about eating the beef that was broke out for us on Tuesday. He was not at all surprised at this although he appeared to pull the wool over our eyes we plainly stated to him our grievances and wants in a respectful manner, which made him rowse up a little telling us how he had lived on whale and blackfish meat for a time on the Nor’west; but this would not go down with us and we demanded state’s allowance. He saw we were in good earnest so after while concluded to give us good beef.”

There are a number of instances of shipmates banding together to pressure the captain to improve their fare. Sometimes, like above, that work was successful. Other times it was met with the wrath of the Captain and no change in the food.

In the after cabin, it was a rather different story as far as what was eaten. Mary Lawrence, whaling wife aboard ship Addison, 1859, wrote about food that was prepared when she was entertaining other whaling officers and their families during a gam on the ship:

“We had for dinner oyster soup, boiled ham, and stewed rabbit with dumplings, a gooseberry pudding and tarts made out of bottled fruits, for tea we had fried ham, fish balls, warm biscuit, preserves, pies, plum cake, and plain cake.”

Greenhand John Perkins, of the Tiger in 1845, voiced his envy after talking with the crew of the Sheffield, who during a gam shared what their fare was like (though to me it sounds more like they were pulling his leg). Perkins felt as though the lack of good food on his ship was in some way attributed to the captain having his wife aboard the Tiger (in addition to being cheap).

“Their cook brings their scoff into the forecastle, carries back the kids & washes the pans. A hogshead of molasses is open for them, pepper, vinegar, & salt are free to them. Butter is also allowed them. They have chickens every Sunday, pancakes three times a week, scouse several times a week & potatoes & onions with limitation. The difference in our manner of living is not owing to the owners, for our ship is well fitted out as it respects provision. But our captain is a part owner & therefore wishes to spare all he can, but he also has his wife aboard & therefore wishes not to get out of potatoes, molasses, sugar, butter &c. He now denies us pork.”

Sometimes whaling wives were met with resentment for the above reasons, with the notion that they were an idle hand who was nevertheless eating better food than the men forward (though as time went on much of the cabin fare was quite similar to what the rest of the crew would have, albeit not laden with filth.) Women aboard would often make dishes of their own, such as pies and gingerbread, fruit preserves, candy, and popcorn. Sometimes it was made for themselves, husband, and other officers, but there are also instances of a number of wives making special dishes and condiments for men forward who were sick or—such as in the case of William Abbe—men who seemed to catch her fancy.

Ultimately, revolting as the food often was many found themselves growing accustomed to it, whether it was through necessity after nearly fainting one too many times of hunger from their initial inability to eat it, or because of the substantial appetite the hard labor of their job gave them regardless. It feels fitting to conclude with journalist John Ross Browne, in writing of his 4 year voyage on an unnamed whaler in 1842, about the perspective the food on board gave him.

“The life I had led since I had shipped produced such a change in me as made me a mere animal. When I got anything fit to eat, which was very rarely, I devoured it with the avidity of a starving wolf. I seldom dreamed of any thing at night but good Kentucky roast beef, peaches and cream, pumpkin pies, and all the luxuries of western life. […] I had seen the time when my fastidious taste revolted at a piece of good wholesome bread without butter, and many a time I had lost a meal by discovering a fly on my plate. I was now glad enough to get a hard biscuit and a piece of greasy pork; and it did not at all affect my appetite to see the mangled bodies of divers well-fed cockroaches in my molasses; indeed, I sometimes thought they gave it a rich flavor.”

#awhalin #long post //

[follyglass]

Follyglass : Library

At the age of six, her friend Elzebet found a strange little stone with a curious little hole in it. When Elzebet peered inside, she found a library - her own personal library - full of things that started with the letter S. Elzebet kept the little rock in her pocket and when Claude needed a sandwich or even a serpent, Elzebet could help.

Because of a deal between a witch and a mayor, everyone in Greenapple had access to a library. Due to a misunderstanding between the witch and the mayor, the witch cast the spell to mean that everyone got their own personal library instead of the one great hall full of books that everyone shared. As such, there were libraries everywhere waiting to be discovered.

Elzebet found hers when she was six.

Claude’s brother found his when he was eight. It was all cats that spoke in iambic pentameter.

Then there were libraries of cousins and schoolmates and neighbors and strangers, each more interesting and strange than the last. Claude eagerly read about libraries of keys and cakes and pears and inks and otters and ferns and string and kaleidoscopes and newts and glass and cheeses made only during the new moon. Each of these was found in equally interesting places: envelopes, and between the fine barbs of a goose feather, or on the opposite side of a button.

With each new discovery, it would set Claude to searching for her own personal library. It could be hiding anywhere. During a math lesson, she watched the clock, confident that maybe her library was hiding behind the second hand and only available at fourteen after.

It wasn’t.

And so in her twenties she hiked the green mountains with Elzebet and checked under the slick leaves of spring ramps. And in February, she sifted through fresh lake snow at midnight. Claude tried everything she could think of. Sometimes after a bit much caramel fizz, she found herself asking others to look in their own libraries - ‘perhaps my library is in your library’ she would slur - to no avail. When she was sad, her father brought her a cup of sun tea and assured Claude that he hadn’t found his library until he was twenty-six. “These things take time.”

Time took. And turned. The libraries, though, turned her friends into experts on fish and keys and cake, and they sailed through the world confident in the directions they were pointed in.

It was rare, but sometimes Claude would find another like her; without a library. They became an informal club and commiserated over thick slices of molasses bread and listened to someone playing the fiddle two lanes over. They came up with schemes to help uncover libraries, most of which failed at finding but succeeded at entertainment. Every once in a while, someone would just stop appearing to the gatherings. Those remaining guessed wistfully that a library had been found. Others thought the meetings were too depressing and what was the point?

Forty-nine had found Claude… who had long given up looking. And going to the gatherings. Instead, she focused her efforts into learning how to play the oboe and had begun reading about the art of glove-making. Upon finishing the stitches for the left glove -her first glove- a curious warm light shone from the glove itself. She squinted and peeked within. It was her library.

She had unintentionally built her own library.

Claude put the glove down and clenched her jaw. “Why now?” she asked herself. “What use is a library for me now? Isn’t it too late? What can possibly be useful for me now?”

She set the glove aside like it was a bill that she could not yet pay. Or like a house spider that she grudgingly let live in the corner of her bathroom. And for too many days her glove, even her glove-making tools that had brought her joy, sat undisturbed.

When Claude finally ran out of prickly anger and sourness, when numbness shielded her from feeling anything at all, she looked. The library itself grew and surrounded her, just like she had heard about so many times, and wished for even more, and Claude found herself in a building with grand columns that held up an arch of sky.

Each table, each shelf, even the banners that hung from the sky contained maps.

At first, the maps were things like ‘towns that have seven letters in their names’ and ‘rivers that flow north,’ but the maps became more curious the further she went into the library. Her library. Here was a book of those who had heartache. That banner riffling pearly was a map of the milky way… from Saturn. There were maps of missing socks and pennies, there were maps of all of the songs in the world, there were even maps of the library itself. These volumes, Claude decided, would probably be a good place to start.

In it, she found reference to a volume that was two days’ travel away. Without thinking, Claude immediately set out for it.

The book was made of brass and wound in green string to keep it shut. Inside were maps of lost libraries and to whom each belonged. She slid her finger down the first pages and read quietly. There were libraries that had never been claimed, and never would be, as their owners were gone. Sadness bloomed in her like ink in water. To think that so many had never had the opportunity to shine!

It was then that she knew what her library was for; Claude was going to help others find their libraries. She would start with the old man down the street who didn’t yet know that his library of quilts had been waiting for him all this time at the park gazebo.

#flash fiction #cozy fantasy #library #follyglass #writeblr #quick read #cozy space

[newsiegirlscout]

Best Autumnal Recipes:

No Bake Spiderweb Cheesecake: Absolutely gorgeous and showstopping delicious with relatively low effort, this one has rather quickly entered my teatime repertoire any year I can find the time to make it! (For the wafers themselves, I'd recommend these, and the spiders can be made relatively easily by melting Rolos on top of a pretzel for about ten seconds, flattening them with the back of a spoon, and adding mini M&M "eyes" and legs from broken pretzels.)

Witch Hat Cookies: As far as cute, easy fixes go, I have a particular love for fudge stripe cookies (or the store brand equivalent) with the chocolate side facing up, topped with a thin ring of purple icing around the center and an unwrapped Hershey's kiss (with another band of purple icing to form the hatband). I'd call them zuckerhutchien but my first-generation German mother would burn me as a witch on the spot, so instead I just refer to them as spooky book club treats.

Gingersnaps: Also an absolute classic; this recipe in particular has been the cause of much appreciation from various friends and professors

Chai Spiced Maple Cookies With Browned Butter Frosting: Definitely a mouthful there, but these remain a favorite for Hobbit Day and the rest of the pumpkin spice season!

Mini Pumpkin Cake: Ach! This is one of the top recipes on my to-do list. It looks absolutely delicious and the absolute perfect size for a small pumpkin spice treat...on that note, please let me know if you've found a vegetarian equivalent to candy corn pumpkins!

Hahaha YES: Candy Corn Pumpkins

Soft Molasses Cookies With Pumpkin Cream Filling: This is more of a transitional treat, but still a nice one irregardless. Personally, I'd recommend baking the cookies a little longer, so you get just enough of a crisp finish on the edge to compliment the cream cheese filling.

Brown Butter Maple Pecan Cookies: I haven't tried these yet either, but some baking communities have been going wild about them, and you really can never go wrong with either browned butter or a nice turtle flavor palette.

Baked Pumpkin Donuts: Skeptical, you may be! "Who bakes a donut?" you'll say! The answer: me. I used to work in a bakery that specialized in donuts and had a pretty good selection of baked (as well as fried) donuts, and the pumpkin is perfect for providing that soft cake-y moisture content. (The batter uses the same recipe as a similar pumpkin cream cheese muffin, and while I can't speak for the author's, pumpkin muffins are quickly getting me through the busiest season in coffeeshops, bakeries, and academics alike.)

Pumpkin Chocolate Chip Bread: What's better than banana bread? Pumpkin bread, of course!! This recipe, with the exception of maybe the chocolate chips (depending on brand, although chopped vegan chocolate bars usually work well) is entirely vegan, not to mention a pretty quick stress-bake to boot.

Pumpkin Scones (Starbucks Copycat): Once again, I'll be honest: I have not tried these, albeit these vanilla bean scones have been a popular favorite and we, as a barista at a local coffeeshop, have a legal obligation to one-up Starbucks at any given point. Definitely a must for the next cup of tea!

Caramel Apple Cheesecake Bars: Between Rosh Hashannah and Halloween, we've got to have one obligatory Halloween dessert with some type of caramel apple base!

Happy baking!

#recipes #food #someone remind me to edit a more sincere footnote when I'm not quite so fatigued. I miss teatime. #everyone say thank you mx. raine for serving as my long-time taste-tester for all things light and delicate

[gottagobuycheese]

word counts were made to murder me specifically, actually

#why do people talk so much #why can't everything you say be the exact minimum amount required to move the scene along #why must you actually CONVERSE with each other #the final make up seems like it's gonna be 50% 25% 25% and that's if I'm lucky #I was really hoping for 1/3 1/3 1/3 but we'll see lol #maybe in editing #if I have time to edit #ah I didn't do any questions today either #this first quarter of the year is going to be so painful #and yet for better or for worse the art experiments continue... #Cheese's personal molasses

[do-you-have-a-flag]

while everyone is talking regional foods thanks to polls i wanna say very quickly that the first time i tried a bagel i was so surprised because it was much simpler in flavour than i expected

the amount of times i’ve seen simit described as a turkish bagel i was like damn okay i have to try a bagel then

and the toppings? great! i particularly enjoyed lox and cream cheese, i like poppy seeds... but the bread type of the bagel itself did not appeal to my palate enough to be worth the amount of bread that goes with the toppings

it’s not bad! but you have to understand when i heard people call simit turkish bagels i expected more of a flavoured quality to the bread itself! 

Like, to go to a totally different sort of bread, i love easter bread (i think that’s italian) it’s savoury and a little sweet and has a beautiful soft texture to it

and simit is flavoured with a kind of grape molasses (pekmez) and tahini as well as topped with sesame seeds so it has this gorgeous rich flavour whether you are having the large homemade version or the thin and crispy street version

But i do like the crispness of a toasted bagel, i think maybe i just need to try smaller portions to really get the best experience to my personal tastes, also i gotta try more variety of toppings! i know a few places that make bagels that i trust more than the store-bought kind

[thiswaycomessomethingwicked]

Spinning off from my question about Grima's favorite and least favorite foods, what about sweets? What sorts of pastries or candies do you think could be found in Rohan, and which ones do you think Grima likes best?

Oh man! Love me some food talk! Especially Grima food talk :D Thank you for dropping this into my inbox~~

As usual, this got hecka long. (This is what happens when I answer on my desktop and not my phone.)

I love food and food history – it’s something I’m super keen on and love nattering on about, particularly as it relates to the medieval and early modern period. Though, for Rohan, we’re really talking late antiquity and early medieval in terms of time but ingredients in European cooking didn’t take a dynamic change until 1492 and the colonization of the Americas began.

I have a lot of thoughts about what Middle Earth has access to in terms of food products from the Americas – because clearly they got tobacco somehow. Also, apparently, tomatoes? And potatoes. Etc. (I know Tolkien has an answer to this but I’m still a little hmmmm/consistency check needed Tolkien about it.) 

My answer will generally work based on the assumption that Rohan has limited to no access to ingredients that are wholly and entirely native to the Americas. Because, as we know, Tolkien intended Rohan to be reminiscent of Anglo-Saxon England and early medieval Scandinavia so I tried to work at least vaguely within those parameters. (I know he was like: it’s Mercia! But I refuse to be hampered by a single kingdom that ranged from 6th to the 9th century because Tolkien didn’t limit himself either.)

my tl;dr is: Grima has a sweet-tooth and loves carbs and dairy products so he's all about them honey cakes and sweet cheese tarts.

----

Frist off - base ingredients that the average Rohirrim would be working with as sweeteners are honey, fruits, nuts (e.g., chestnuts, walnuts, almonds), herbs/spices, syrups/confits (fruit or cereal based – strawberry, for example) and cheeses/dairy products.

Pending Rohan’s climate and geography, they might have the correct maple trees for syrup tapping (i.e., sugar maple, red maple, and black maple), which would add an additional flavouring agent to their dessert foods. But I personally find that doubtful. The temperatures in spring need to range from -4 at night to around 6 or 7 in the day for a proper sugar tap and I don’t see Rohan getting that cold consistently enough to make it work.

-

For the wealthy, there might be access to sugarcane products (i.e., sugar, molasses, rum ;) etc.), but I just can’t get my head around Middle Earth having sugarcane. If they did, it’d be in lands controlled by Sauron so access would be limited during times of war. Therefore, Grima growing up would likely not have seen any white or brown sugar, if it existed.

Other things that would have been accessible more to the rich in Rohan than anyone else: cinnamon, cloves, allspice, cardamom, ginger, vanilla and other herbs, spices etc. that grow outside Rohan – and in regions, coincidentally, mostly controlled by Sauron and/or have rough trade relations with allies of Gondor.

As this is the case, most of the sweetening Grima would be familiar with would come from honey and fruit. His palate, like most in a late-antiquity and early medieval society, probably ran towards sour and tart. Our palates today, especially in the west, are incredibly sweet in comparison to what our ancestors were used to.

All fermenting was done with wild yeasts and that tends to give you more sour flavour profiles in your ales/beers, meads, and yogurts than the controlled approach to brewing and dairy products we have today. Meat and fish were often preserved via salting, vinegar, or with the sour dairy run-offs from the cheese and yogurt process.

-

All this said! Some deserts or sweet snacks Grima would likely be familiar with include, but are not limited to:

Sweet breads (e.g., gingerbread [for the wealthy, in 14th c England a pound of ginger cost the same as a sheep], apple loaf, honey load, nut bread etc.)

Fried breads (think beignets or zeppoli, but also proto-funnel cakes)

Fried, baked or stewed fruits

Sweet cheeses

Custards

Skyr/something similar

Honey

Candied fruits and nuts

Tarts and pies (a very wide range of tarts and pies existed)

Cakes (and there are a wide range of these, too, e.g., I’ve seen an early medieval cheesecake recipe)

Cookies or sweet biscuits

Fried figure-of-eight snacks (an early medieval pretzel, basically)

Fritters (so many fritters, so little time)

Sweet toasts i.e. toastee (most usually topped with spiced honey and available nuts)

-

For Grima – I firmly believe the man has a devil of a sweet-tooth and therefore likes any and all things put in front of him that are vaguely sweet in nature.

He’d have grown up on simpler versions of everything listed above – a lot of honey, orchard fruits (e.g., apple, pear, cherry, plum, quinces, medlars) and local berry flavourings (e.g., blackberry, blueberry, strawberry, raspberry, gooseberry, lindenberry). Maybe nuts, depending on what was available. The herbs would have been rosemary, mint, elderflower, heather (get hiiiiigh), lavender (maybe), rose (for special occasions most likely), marjoram etc. Not sure his family would have had the income to access things like citrus of any kind, cinnamon, ginger etc.

Therefore, day to day when he was young it’d have been honey cakes and seed loafs and sweet cheeses and skyr + fruit (not unlike how we eat it today) and fruit or nut tarts etc.

-

When he entered Theoden’s household and was able to sit at the high table with the king’s family and chief advisors this is when he’d get the glories of cinnamon bread and candied ginger and lemon tarts and the like. Pineapples.

Grima: We can’t EAT the pineapple. We have to leave it on the table so people know we can afford it.

Eomer: We have more than one pineapple. We can eat it and display it.

Grima: M O R E.  T H A N.  O N E??

-

Personally, I think Grima just loves carbs. So he’s the one sharking all the sweet and fried bread products at the table. I think he also likes sweet cheeses and custards so is really happy whenever something is fried bread on the outside and a sweet cheese or something on the inside.

As palates ran tart/sour, I can see Grima enjoying Rohan’s answer to skyr straight with no additions to it. Same for sour cheeses served at the end of the meal.

If I had to rank Grima’s favourite deserts/treats, once he was part of Theoden’s household and can afford/has access to Fancy Things, I think it’d go:

Fried bread with cinnamon (i.e., Rohan-beignets)

Orange infused custard

Saffron custard tart

Honey cakes – preferably with cinnamon or vanilla

Skyr

Candied ginger and almonds

Gingerbread

Sweet cheese filled tarts (Rohan’s answer to the Danish)

Pear or apple fritters

That said, I can see him still enjoying throwbacks to the less fancy sweets of his childhood, such as the fritters, but also the more herbal and earthy flavourings that were available to his family—winter savory, lemon thyme, bay, lavender, mint, borage, rosemary, marigold, sweet marjoram etc.

-

I didn't get into sweet beverages (herbal wines, mulled anything, mead, flavoured ales, fruit wines etc.) because that's a whole other thing.

I hope this was helpful! These are many, many thoughts and honestly, I could probably have gone on for another three pages but I thought I should wrap it up.

Thank you so, so much for the ask! It made day :D :D

#lotr #lord of the rings #ask #reply #rohan #lotr meta #grima wormtongue #anon #food history #middle earth #grima thoughts #grima and food

[whiskeyandsteel]

The Best Thing I Ate Last Month May Edition.

When I started kicking around the idea of writing about the best things I eat each month, I was trying to figure out if I should limit it to restaurant food or everything I eat. I ultimately decided it should include everything I eat because, more times than not, some of the best foods I eat are homemade. Unfortunately, I didn’t have the foresight to take more pictures of some of the great things we had or take any notes with the thought of writing about them, so I’m mainly going from memory for this month.

We started off the month pretty strong with some grilled ribeye steaks, grilled asparagus, and sautéed mushrooms. Grilling asparagus is my favorite way to make it. It’s done simply by tossing it with olive oil and kosher salt and quickly hitting it on a hot grill. It doesn’t take more than two or three minutes, and it’s very flavorful. I know a lot of people cook their mushrooms on the grill, too, but I think it robs them of most of their flavor, so I always opt for sautéing them in a pan with butter and a sprinkle of olive oil.

On Mother’s Day, we went to a cookout at my daughter's house, and our son-in-law Trey grilled some fabulous cheeseburgers that I will be the first to admit I overindulged in. But the star of that show was Christine’s desserts. She made a fantastic peanut butter pie, and I could have eaten the whole thing. But her toasted coconut cheesecake was on a whole different level. It may have been the best cheesecake I’ve ever had. She is becoming a very good savory cook in her own right, but she has a real talent for pastry which I hope she tries to develop.

Fricker’s is our go-to spot most weeks for many reasons. In my humble opinion, they have really good food at very reasonable prices, and most of their staff are fantastic. I had their original bone-in wings with their Bourbon Molasses sauce that I’ve fallen in love with. I love the crispy breading on their wings, even though David Chang says breaded wings are entirely un-American. Go to hell, David Chang. I love them. For a side, I had the brew city fries. I don’t know what that seasoning is they put on them, but damn, it’s good.

I smoked some baby back ribs that turned out fantastic. Whenever I make ribs, they will always make their way high up on the list of best things I ate. Which causes this weird dynamic in which because they are good every time, they don’t stand out in my mind like they used to. I love and crave them, but after I eat them, they just don’t stand out to me as if I had something good for the first time. Even if I don’t enjoy that dish as much, it still tends to stand out more because it’s something new. So I wonder if even though I think my ribs are great, they will ever stand out enough to me for me to say they were the best thing I ate last month.

I had the steak fajitas from Dos Lunas Mexican Bar and Grill in Tipp City. They were delicious but perhaps not the most stand-out fajitas I’ve ever had. If there’s a bad fajitas spot, though, I haven’t found it yet. Can someone please explain to me why I only get three tortillas, though? I always run out and just finish with a fork. Come on now, just give us more tortillas!

I came across a recipe for Korean beef rice bowls that I wanted to try. I try to stick to a recipe the way it is written the first time I make it, then tweak it more to my personal tastes. That will be the case with this recipe. It was good, but I feel like it could be better with some work.

I think the stand out for breakfast this month was my egg, ham, and provolone cheese breakfast sandwiches, which are, by far, Cathy’s favorite breakfast. I also made some fried eggs served over spicy hash browns with sriracha mayonnaise that would have been outstanding had I not had an amateur moment and broken two of the three eggs on the flip.

Hands down, the best thing I ate last month was Christine Applegate’s Toasted Coconut Cheesecake. I’m not a huge cheesecake fan, so for me to be blown away by it says a lot about how good it really was. The toasted coconut cut the richness of the cheesecake perfectly. It truly was an amazing dessert.

I would love for you to drop me a line and tell me what was the favorite thing you ate last month. And again, as someone I greatly admire once said, “Cook Free, Or Die”

C. McManus 6/7/2023

#cheflife #foodie #foodpics #foodporn #yummyfood #americanfood #cooking #foodgasm #cheesecake

[istherewifiinhell]

Listen for that toaster pop and grab some butter its time to take a big crunchy bite of Novembers Bread Poll Math

Total takers: 31 (jesus christ)

Flavour section

Strawberries - 13, Sweet Potato - 7, Cranberries - 6, Golden Raisins AND Dried Apricots - 2, Raisins - 1

Texture Section

Sliced Almonds - 13, Walnuts AND Sunflower Seed - 6, Pumpkin Seed - 3, Cashews - 2, Pistachios - 1

Sweetener Section

Brown Sugar - 14, Honey - 8, Maple Syrup - 4, White Sugar - 3, Golden Syrup AND Molasses - 1

It seems the Allure of God Tier Fruit strawberries was too strong for the other flavour items to catch up, even if its maybe less conventional in non pastry bread.

Similarly as I forced ppl to choose a seed or nut I wonder if the mildness of sliced almond drew the appeal here.

And for the sugar, listen folks i think we must admit we are but Ye Olde Childen celebrating for the brown sugar penny candies we have been brought and will savory rapturously. Brown Sugar Good.

Simple inclusion suggestions where sparse this round. One person was sad I did not have herbs, again, (sorry, I'll work on adding it to the next one). A taker that really wanted me to consider pork rinds (or as they put it prok rinds in bred), and someone who said teeth.

Combos Advocated for were Walnuts and Sunflower seeds (twice actually!), Pistachios and Almonds, and Honey and Brown Sugar (that was the last loaf in fact!).

This Quiz had a lot more people with different kinds of bread suggestions for me. Several Pumpkin breads (which is actually a loaf, not yeasted bread, which is what were doing here), banana bread (ditto and sorry but I don't like it!), latte bread (looking this up and same but I am intrigued, also chai latte bread which im imagining so wonderfully), cheese and green onion bread (compelling!), anpan (again looking up, rolls with red bean paste), bacon bread, honey glazed croissants and a bread that is swirled with regular and chocolate where all further suggestions.

And finally, to everyone who said something nice about the last loaf! thank you! But most of all the taker who said it was creature shaped and Glistening. How sweet yet horrifying.

So the bread to be Made is the very cute sounding to me, Strawberry and Sliced Almond Loaf sweetened with brown sugar.

Which. By the way, heres the base recipe I've been using for these loafs anyway

1/4 cup water, 1 cup butter milk (milk with lemon cmon now), 3 tbsp sugar (of choice), 1 1/2 tbsp of butter (any fat would be fine probably), 3 cups flour, 1tsp salt, 1/4 tsp baking soda (honestly not sure if its doing but its staying in for now), 2 tsp yeast, and 1 & 1/2 cup fixings of ur choice (literally)

#some shit #bread poll #bread poll math #theres a recipe at the bottom of this u if u dont wanna read it all just go there if u want that.

[kalis-scribbles]

Captain Thunderclaw’s Cookbook for the Adventurous Sailor

[These recipes were written for a pirates themed D&D campaign, these are the personal recipes of Captain Thunderclaw, the greatest feline captain of the seven seas!]

The question of feeding sailors has been one which the victual officers of every navy has wrestled with since the first sailors went out to sea. One must find provisions which are possible to keep for long voyages while provising sufficient nutrition to keep sailors strong enough to work and to ward away the dreaded scurvy that has plagued vessels for so long. 

These here are recipes I have collected throrough my voyages, some of which are meant to make use of provisions while others are special treats that make use of fresh produces in the days after departing port or while moored.

[Recipes under the cut]

Appetizers

Plantain and beans soup

To make this dish soak beans overnight so they are grown by morning. At dawn put them in fresh water and boil them with a little stock of fish or poultry until they can be crushed with a spoon. Then cut onions and peeled plantains into small cubes, add them to the beans with fresh herbs.

Turtle Salad

Turtles are plentiful and easy to catch while at sea. Chop into a small chunk the meat of a turtle and roast it until cooked. Add the meat chilled to chopped greens, salted herring, hard boiled eggs, onions, hearts of palm, olives, and diced mango. Season with mustard, salt and pepper. Mix well and serve as a mount onto a large dish.

Kievan Sour Soup

Known to ward away scurvy, to prepare this soup you must use pickled cabbage which you must drain of its liquid and chop finely. In a pot render bacon until the fat is melted. To this add the crout and cook for a few minutes before filling with water. Chop potatoes and carrots into small pieces and add them to the pot. The soup is ready when the potatoes are soft. If available you may add soured cream.

Side Dishes

Burgoo

This recipe is common among sail ships. Boil one part of oatmeal to four parts of water until they are soft. To this add molasses and sweet lard of hogs.

Pease Porridge

First you must soak yellow split peas overnight so that they may cook easier. Then set them to boil with not too much water lest it be too watery. When the peas are a soft puree add in cooked ham and season generously with butter and mint until the ham is warm.

Keshiite Mush

To make this stable of the Keshiite one must first boil the flour of corn, cassava or plantain in water until it thickens into a thick and heavy paste. It must then be divided into portions before it cool and firms up. This food has little taste on its own but is served doused in soup or stew for flavor. It may be mixed with a little milk or cream to make smoother.

Savory Rice

First one must wash and boil the salt meat of their allotted ration, then remove it from the pot. In the pot put rice with herbs and cook until it is plump, then return the meat to the dish and mix it well.

Naval Cheese Sauce

To rescue the horror known as Naval Cheese one must in great effort, first grate it as fine as can be done and then add it to a pot covering with water and a large amount of butter to provide fat to the unfortunate mixture. Cook on a very low heat until the cheese finally deigns to melt and mix it well. Serve this sauce warm and let sailors dip in ship bisket to soften them.

Sweet Beans

Take small beans soaked overnight and rinse them, put them in a ceramic cooking pot with pieces of fat cut into chunks, and molasses or the sugar of maple trees and cover with water mixed well. Put the dish upon a low flame so it does not burn for several hours until the beans are tender.

Osloth Beer Porridge

Take a loaf of stale dark bread and pound it into crumbs. In a pot bring beer to a boil and to it add the crumbs, stir well so it does not stick. It is ready when the porridge is soft and swollen. It may be served savory with butter and pickled herrings, or sweet with butter, sugar and dried fruits.

A Sauce of Oysters

Open a jar of oysters pickled and wash them well but keep some of the liquid, then bring them into a pot of white wine and some of the liquid and boil them well with a small onion within which are cloves speared through. Remove it from the fire when the wine has reduced, remove the onion and serve the sauce as you please.

Main Dishes

Buccanneer's Sweet Hog

Take a large hog full with guts and organs removed. Smear the carcass with salt. In a bowl mix water, a splash of vinegar, a large heap of molasses and crushed hot peppers, it must be thick and drip slowly from a spoon. Smother the hog in this glaze and put it upon the boucan for several hours until the meat falls off the bone.

Coconut Crabs

Take a number of crabs living and wash them, then cut their head so they die with a sharp cleaver, then chop them into small pieces. In a pot filled with coconut water put the crabs with curry powder, garlic crushed roughly. Boil the mixture until the crabs are done.

Lobscouse

This dish is the common way sailors prepare their rations of meat and ship biscuits. First dice an onion and fry it at the bottom of a large pot with lard until fragrant, while it does take the bisket and pound them into small pieces with a mallet. Fill the pot with water and let it boil before adding the salt pork or beef. Season with a little pepper, leaf of bay. If you have any potatoes, carrots or parsnip you may add them. Add the bisket to the stew and let it all simmer for a time until they and the meat are soft.

Sea Pie

This recipe is made by ship that lack a proper oven for baking. First you must make paste for a pie and line a tall dish. Then plate a layer of the meat of your choice. Cover this layer with another layer of your paste and add a new layer of meat, continuing so forth until you reach the top of your dish, cover it with a crust then set a plate to seal it tight, wrap the pot in a cloth and string it tightly shut. Boil the pie and its pot for an hour and it should be done.

Islander Pepperpot

To make this stew one must first cut the meat of any beast they have; beef, pork, goat shall do, and cut it fine. In a pot one must render lard and diced onion with the meat until browned, then cover with with water. To it add a good among of hot peppers, a few leaves of bay, a stick of the bark of cinnamon, and cassareep which is the bittersweet juices of Cassava reduced to the consistency of molasses. Let it simmer until it is tender and the sauce is thick. You may serve this dish upon rice or mush.

Stockfish Stew

You must begin by soaking the fish in water so that it may soften, you may then remove the bones and skin. Cut it into pieces and bring it into a boiling pot along with potatoes. To this stew add dried tomatoes cut finely, and dill. When it is about ready add the crumbs of stale bread or ships biscuit to thicken it.

To Boil Fowl

Take a fowl of your choosing, chicken does this dish well. In the cavity of your bird fit in whole grapes or re-hydrated raisins, as well as a whole nutmeg smashed into two, as well as sweet herbs. Sew it shut and put the bird in white wine to boil until it is cooked. Remove it from the fire and then stir in the yolks of fresh eggs upon a light fire to thicken your broth into a sauce.

Mince Pie

This dish is most excellent to use the pieces of meat such as the tongue many would refuse as their ration. First peel your tongue and cut is quite small, to it add dried raisins, currants, and dried apple cut equally small. Mix it grated mace and the shredded peel of a lemon, soak it all with a splash of brandy or sweet sherry. Fill a dish lined with a pie dough with this mixture and bake it well until flaky and golden.

Sweets

Banana leaf sweet

Take a measure of flour sifted fine. Mix to it water to make it into a dough and add sugar, kneed it into a ball and wrap them individually sealed tightly in the leaves of banana. Boil them for a third of an hour and they should be ready to be enjoyed.

Boiled Pudding

Take flour, sugar, dried fruit and grated suet and mix it with cold water until it forms a dough, careful not to overmix or to melt the suet. Shape it into a ball and then wrap it inside of a floured cloth. Tie it tightly (leaving a fold so it may expand) to avoid water coming in and put it to boil in a pot for two hours. Then take it out and slice into portions, serve it with molasses or a sauce of sugar and butter.

Pepper Cakes

Take flour and suet and mix it well, to this add a generous amount of pepper and ginger, then add molasses and a little bit of water to make a stiff paste. Mix it well and form it onto small cakes upon a greased dish, then bake it until it has firmed.

Jam Roll

Make a pastry as if to bake a pie but cut it into a rectangle. Layer it with a jam of your choosing leaving a thumb's width clear upon the edges. Then roll it tight into a spiral and seal the edges well by pressing them firm. Wrap this roll in a clean cloth and with strings tie it well at each end and center. You may now boil this for an hour or until it is firm. To serve cut a small disk through the roll and lay it flat on a dish.

Apple in dough

Take small sweet apples and remove from it the core and skin. Soak it in water so it does not brown. Then prepare a dough of flour, water, suet and a little sugar. Take your apples and dry them, then each cover with dough sealed properly. You may bake these treat but if you do not have an oven they are fine boiled as well. Serve them with a light sauce of caramel

Sweet Stewed Pears

Take winter pears and cut them into quarters, lay them into a ceramic dish with a few pieces of cloves, a half a lemon peel and a generous amount of sugar. Cover them with red wine and bake them enough slowly. Serve them hot or cold as you please.

Sweet Rice Dessert

Take a measure of rice and milk and boil it in a pot, to it add raisins and sugar. If you do not have milk you may use water, add a little butter to it. Cook it slowly until the rice has broken, long past softness. Serve it in a bowl with a spoonful of jam.

Drinks & Beverage

Captain Thunderclaw's Spiced Grog

Take a cauldron of fresh water and boil within a stick or two of cinnamon, a smashed nutmeg, and the peels of several limes and oranges until the water has become fragrant strain out of the material then return it to the fire. Add brown sugar generous and stir until it is dissolved. To it mix one part rum to four part liquid and the juice from the citrus reserved earlier. Serve still warm if prefered or let it cool. Garnish with a leaf of mint (or catnip) if available. This Recipe seem to please the crew and helps ward away the dreaded scurvy while making sure they do not get inebriated too fast.

Island’s Punch

In a bowl combine rum, the juices of orange and pineapple, coconut milk, a little lemon juice. Stir them together well, garnish with slices of oranges or twirl of citrus peel.

The Catfolk’s Delight

This drink is particularly beloved by feline members of the crew. Get fresh milk (For which my crew keeps a few goats aboard) and bright it to a gentle heat upon the fire, add a stick of cinnamon, a few cloves, and pieces of ginger. DO NOT LET IT BOIL, keep on the fire until it is aromatic then strain. Mix in a little clear liquor and several leaves of catnip, serve lukewarm.