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marueonmain · 4 years ago

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Not Risking You ~ WillNE

Summary: Y/N is not aware just how much she and Will have in common. Will takes care of slightly injured Y/N.

Pairing: willne x reader

Warning: Fainting.

Word Count: 1.2k

Everyone is unique; that is not to mean everyone is special, but more literally, everyone is unique in at least some small aspect or another. Some have wisdom teeth, while others do not. Some have a normal temperature higher than the average thirty-seven degrees, while others run colder. And Y/N? Well, Y/N had an irregular heartbeat and lost consciousness if it spiked too high too quickly.

But it did not happen a lot. She could count on one hand – two hands if she were honest – the number of times it had happened in her adult life. So why bother telling anyone about her condition? If it was unlikely to happen, then it was not like anyone needed to know, right? Right?

It was early afternoon, and Y/N was late to the shooting of the second Eboys bake off. Y/N slipped into the large room, hugging the wall until she found a clear enough spot for herself. While getting her camera from its case and screwing on the correct lens, she thought she could feel eyes on her, but everyone was focused on the four boys at the front of the room when she looked up.

Y/N got to work as the sole photographer on the shoot – taking still shots for the thumbnail and, far more important, for promos on the boys’ individual social media and the group channel accounts. Everything was going fine; the video was not exactly a bake off as all the production emails she received had implied – it was a cook off. James again assigned the meals: chicken tikka masala for George, a shepherd's pie for Alex, toad in the hole for Will, and for himself, a traditional full English breakfast.

It was not a surprise to anyone that after the fiasco with the jam tart, Alex was given extra help for his meal in the shape of pre-made mashed potatoes. He picked up a knife to start chopping the carrots and onions, but before attempting a single cut, he looked out toward the cameras.

Alex asked, “Can someone cut this? It’ll take me ages.”

The other boys continued working on their own meals; there were no objections to Alex having made the request nor shouting that he was trying to cheat.

“I could,” Y/N piped up; she did not consider herself the speediest chef in the world but thought anyone would probably be faster than the inexperienced cook. Setting her camera back in its case, Y/N moved behind the counters at the front of the room, washed her hands, and took the knife from Alex.

About five slices into the first onion, she misplaced her hand and dragged the knife across her finger. Blood sprung from the cut and mixed with the small amount of remaining water on her hand to create an effect like she was bleeding more than she was. Y/N paled and stilled.

And it was not the blood – she was not afraid of blood. It was the accident's unexpectedness; the sudden onset sting of a cut splashed with onion juice sent her heart rate jumping. There was just a millisecond of wooziness before she lost consciousness.

Will had been stunting all afternoon in hopes of attracting the attention of the recently hired photographer. His posture was impeccable as he pushed his shoulders down and his chest out to appear more muscular. Not once did Will allow himself to slip into his resting face, as he plastered on his most handsome smile the entire shoot. He even attempted a spatula flip – which did not end as he planned.

A dream-like haze clouded his head, and weakness overtook his limbs each time his eyes caught hers. Like many men, he did not think he had a specific type; he did not consider himself picky in most situations. Women were women. If he could get with one that was good enough for him. But Y/N. Sweet Y/N, she was his type; she was everything he did not know he looked for in a woman. And it was…wow.

Therefore, Will was extremely jealous of Alex when Y/N stepped out from behind the camera to assist the shorter man. Will was upset that he had not thought to ask for help – that could have been him standing shoulder to shoulder with Y/N. Amidst his anger, Will heard Alex ask, “Are you ok?”

Will looked up from the sizzling sausages in his pan just in time to see Y/N drop quickly and heavily with her whole weight. Stuck in shock, no one moved – no one except Will. It was not even three seconds, and he was crashing to the floor himself to kneel at her side. Y/N was again conscious, that much was clear as, despite her closed eyes, a weak groan escaped her lips and her head rocked toward Will. All his experience with fainting, Will had never been on the other side, and it was terrifying. Y/N was not his, but he was scared like she was; he was hurt like he failed her in not protecting her from something he did not understand or even know about before that single fear-filled moment.

Around the fallen pair were both whispered and raised voices expressing shock and confusion. Someone mentioned calling 999 until James commanded, “Hold on. Will, what do we do?”

“Give me a minute,” Will replied, not looking up.

Y/N was conscious but not fully awake. It was uncomfortable, and Will could not help feeling like a bit of a creep, but he knew what people had done to wake him up from his fainting episodes in the past. He reached a hand towards Y/N, apologized in his head, and began rubbing a circular pattern on her sternum. It had hurt (in the best sense) when other people did it to him, so he was not alarmed but actually relieved when Y/N let out a hissing groan at the contact. He spoke to her in a soft voice.

“It’s alright, Y/N. You just gotta wake up. All you gotta do is open your eyes. Can you do that?” Will bit his lip, contemplating his next move, before adding, “Open your eyes Y/N, please, for me?”

After about ten seconds, Y/N’s eyes fluttered open then closed. She pulled her arm up and covered her eyes. “Everyone is looking at me.”

“Yeah.”

“It’s ok.” Y/N moved to push herself up to a sitting position. “I’m alright, really.”

Will stopped Y/N from getting more than a few centimetres off the ground. He pushed her back down with gentle force. “No. Don’t jump up because you’re embarrassed about having attention on you. I’ll tell everyone to leave – I will – just don’t push yourself. I’m going to get you water and you’re going to drink as much as you need and we’re going to stay here as long as you need. I’m not risking you.”

Y/N felt her heartstrings being struck with each word out of his mouth, and as her eyes focused on Will, she thought she never before felt so understood. She never before felt so calm and confident being basked in the full attention of another. It was nice. It was something she wanted to get used to.

#will lenney #willlne #willne imagine #willne x reader

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artmakerproductions · 3 years ago

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“Billy & Sarah in: Up and Over The Garden Wall” (Old Art, 2019)

Characters of mine (title duo previously seen on my Tumblr page here: https://artmakerproductions.tumblr.com/post/640419839519932416/billy-sarah-tv-style-bumper-thumbnail, https://artmakerproductions.tumblr.com/post/633537067369021440/trick-or-treat-trick-or-treat-trick-or-treat, https://artmakerproductions.tumblr.com/post/640010628454547456/httpswwwdeviantartcomartmakerproductionsart) in the roles of the Wirt, Greg, Beatrice, the Woodsman, and the Beast. You sort of needed to have been along for the ride over on DeviantArt at the time for the full context. Though, I guess if you like the art regardless, that’s still good enough.

Everything below is an excerpt of the description from DeviantArt:

https://www.deviantart.com/artmakerproductions/art/BnS-65-Over-The-Garden-Wall-w-Billy-n-Sarah-817375823

———— Continuing on the trend of Halloween-themed artwork, up next we have Cartoon Network’s 10-part mini series: “Over the Garden Wall”. Funny enough, I actually wanted to do this last year, but I didn’t get to as Halloween was over by the time I thought of it. Now, with a bigger line-up of characters and me actually planning it out, I decided on revisiting the idea.

———— On Halloween night, a girl by the name of Sarah finds herself is stuck babysitting for her family friend’s niece: Dorothy, when she’d much rather spend the night at home. A set of unforeseen circumstances leads them into the Unknown, a place where lost stories are told. Now, she, Dorothy and her new animal companion: a nameless El Chupacabra, and a talking woodpecker named Billy, set off through the woods to find their way back home. As they delve deeper and deeper into the wood, getting more lost doing so, the four are unknowingly followed by a shadowy figure called The Beast who seeks the souls of youth to extend his own life. From one odd situation to the next, the mismatched party-of-four traverse the dark forest meeting new and strange characters of the odd sort on their many misadventures in the Unknown. Meanwhile, a kindly (but kinda intimidating) Woodswoman, guided by the light of her lantern (supposedly) inhabited by the spirit of her son also follows them through the wood and does everything in her power to keep them out of the Beast’s clutches and becoming new additions to his dark forest... ———— Alrighty, time for some additional info — Dorothy is wearing her Aunt’s tea kettle on her head as she found the bow rather pretty, but didn’t want to cut it off and ruin it. Like Wirt, Sarah’s costume was made at the last minute w/ random sh*t she found in her house. She’s a tad more grouchy and more easily frustrated than him, but doesn’t mean any harm. I chose a woodpecker to portray Billy as I felt a woodpecker’s design is better suited to his character than a bluebird - also, I wanted to reuse these old character designs [link] [link] [link]. The whole naming of El Chupacabra (in place of the frog) here is meant to be a joke how these various cryptids (w/ a few exceptions) don’t have names and are often referred to only by the name of their species are, like Sasquatch, Jersey Devil, Yeti, Reptilian Man, etc. The forever grouchy and cranky, Miss Urchlynn is in the role of the Woodswoman as she, like the Woodsman, fears the idea of being left alone. This is used against her and is fooled by the Beast into chopping down trees for their oil to be used to keep the lantern forever lit. She is led to believe that the old lantern is inhabited by the spirit of her (supposedly) deceased son. The Beast here (if your screen is bright enough) is portrayed by Mr. Gumball from my “Candy Shop of Horrors” series, a comedy-horror adaptation of Roald Dahl’s “Charlie and the Chocolate Factory”. This is because his goal is essentially the same: steal the souls of children to extend his own life and to make his candies the most delicious in the world. ———— Artist’s Note: I am very VERY proud w/ how this turned out, especially with all the detailed shading and lighting in this picture. EDIT: Added some additional (but short) info about the Woodswoman above.

#over the garden wall #halloween #spooky #digital art #fanart #cartoon network #over the garden wall fanart #wirt #greg #beatrice #woodsman #the beast #oc #billy & sarah #fan art #halloween art

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redtolime · 5 years ago

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WARNING SPOILERS FOR THE NEW SANDERS SIDES VID

OK SO IVE SEEN A FEW PEOPLE THROW AROUND THAT ROMAN BECOMES THE ORANGE SIDE AND??? THEY MIGHT BE RIGHT. SO,,, ALL THE DARK SIDES NAMES END IN ‘US’ (REMUS, JANUS) AND VIRGIL, A FORMER DARK SIDE, HAS A NAME THAT ENDS IN ‘IL’ SO THERES NO CONSTANT NAME ENDING, RIGHT? WRONG. VIRGIL MIGHT NOT BE HIS FULL NAME. ALL THE DARK SIDES NAMES ARE ROMAN IN ORIGIN, LIKE REMUS BEING ONE OF THE TWO BROTHERS TO FOUND ROME, AND JANUS BEING THE ROMAN GOD OF BEGINNINGS AND DUALITY, AND IS OFTEN DEPICTED WITH TWO FACES. VIRGIL WAS A FAMOUS ROMAN POET WHO WROTE THE AENEID, EXCEPT VIRGIL WASNT HIS ACTUAL NAME, JUST A SHORTENED VERSION. HIS REAL NAME WAS VERGILIUS, WHICH IS ALSO SPELLED AS VIRGILIUS. VIRGIL COULD HAVE CHOPPED OFF THE ‘IUS’ TO GET RID OF THE DARK SIDE AFFILIATION IN HIS NAME, WHICH BRINGS US TO ROMAN, WHOS NAME IS, WELL, ROMAN. IT’S PRETTY SELF EXPLANITORY HOW IT’S ROMAN IN ORIGIN. IF ROMAN BECAME A DARK SIDE, HIS NAME WOULD HAVE TO CHANGE, BUT NOT TOO MUCH, JUST ADDING A ‘US’ AND MAYBE ANOTHER LETTER TO THE END OF IT, RIGHT? AND THIS, MY FRIENDS, IS WHERE I THEORIZE THAT ROMAN’S DARK SIDE NAME IS ROMULUS. ITS ROMAN IN ORIGIN AND ONLY CHANGES AND ADDS A FEW LETTERS, LIKE THE OPPOSITE OF WHAT VIRGIL COULD HAVE DONE TO HIS NAME. ROMAN BEING THE ORANGE SIDE ALSO MAKES SENSE BECAUSE THERE HAS BEEN NO HINTS FROM THE CHARACTERS THEMSELVES, BECAUSE THE ORANGE SIDE DOESN’T EXIST YET. ALSO IN THE THUMBNAIL IN THE VIDEO, IF YOU PUT ROMAN’S ICON INFRONT OF THE BLANK ONE, THEY LINE UP PERFECTLY. THAT IT, THATS MY REASONING, I’M TIRED AND HAVING A STROKE AT THE STROKE OF MIDNIGHT, GOODNIGHT EVERYBODY.

#sanders sides spoilers #sanders sides theory #remus sanders #janus sanders #deceit sanders #virgil sanders #anxiety sanders #roman sanders #creativity sanders #orange side

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spnreactionblogging · 4 years ago

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CARRY ON

spoilers below but I’m very late to the game

here we go!!! there's Some Woman in the thumbnail for this episode and I'm like oh boy did you fuckers turn castiel into a girl to make it Not Gay, I will riot. we're off to a dread-inducing start I'm honestly not even sure I want to watch this? I have not heard anything good but since my options are either keep SPN blacklisted forever but ultimately get spoiled anyway, or use my dwindling remaining time to see it for myself without being told what happens, may as well be on my own terms I am hearing that misha and possibly j2 were not happy with this, whatever this is (?????) yikes I don't understand how you even have another episode after the last one. that seems like a traditional ending. you either beat a dead horse or go ultra meta and it sounds like they dropped the ball, big time but let's see jack's sweet and deserved better. there's a clock but it's NOT heat of the moment playing, damn oh the dog. we love you miracle dog sam's still jogging where's eileen!!!! I like seeing sam cooking I actually enjoy watching them do domestic stuff dean sneaking food to the dog 😭 can this be the whole episode, just them doing chores I meant to catch which book sam was reading I can't tell but it looks like it's old this is extra bonus sad for knowing that they couldn't even like, have a wrap party or anything. extra isolated. :( SPECIAL GUEST STAR JIM BEAVER!!! "Are you sure you're ready for this?" "Oh, I don't have a choice." dean hasn't been this relatable to me in years, this is how I feel watching this lmao akron pie fest dean dies of complications from diabetes god I miss bakeries or restaurants or anything I do love Sad Sam Face "I"'m thinking about Cas, you know? Jack. If they could be here." thank you Sam that pain isn't going away for me either "stop being an eeyore" Sam's the Eeyore of the series, Dean, okay, and same lmao jared fucking slammed that pie into jensen's face and they just filmed it. you can see the actual glee on his face brady??? like sam's old classmate? wasn't that his name? or no some kid. is this just a regular-ass monster of the week. do sam and dean just get killed by like. regular people? are there no monsters anymore. I would actually love that. humanity is truly the worst monster of all. didn't we learn that in season 1 :') in "the benders" are these guys sam and dean? are they just murdering monster families like they did in the holiday episode? what is happening. are those dean's shoes. I could probably recognize how they walk if I really paid attention i guess not. probably. "singer and kripke, FBI" ha fucking clowns lmao poor sam they still have dad's journal, huh. THE LORE evil mimes. vamp-mimes. I guess they kill these dudes? we gonna unmask them or what there we go this guy looks like joseph gordon-levitt oh we love torture on this show this is definitely "dean who's NOT the ultimate killer" amirite "if those kids are dead he's gonna use a spoon" how very walter sullivan of you also I feel like sam would not do this anymore but hey who am I, someone who likes consistent characterization? lol we're back to creepy barns instead of wet pipe factories dean has a fucking shuriken lmao I honestly for real need a machete for the overgrown weeds I don't hate this so far? I'm tired of the constant torture but I guess this feels like early seasons, kind of. idk. lmao sam with the concussions. classic tie them to a chair. it's what we do. i will be disappointed if they are not tied to a chair jenny? cue studio killers. I do not remember whatever episiode this is but it looks very early based on sam's hair oh thanks sam. couldn't get out of this episode without beheading a woman too one of the suggestions for me typing "woman" was a high-heeled shoe emoji. thanks, predictive text...?????? true feminist oh damn he could very well get tetanus from that. that's how trinity dies, man. should've gotten your booster shot, dean. vaccines save lives this is like the plot of signs why don't you guys wear bulletproof shit. your plot armor was holding you together until now. GUYS THIS IS HOW HUNTERS GO OKAY don't ever un-impale someone, guys like "dean we are in a major city, there are ambulances" call fucking 911, someone could be there already "I've always looked up to you" because you're taller than me lmaoooo idefk what to say about this like. we all know this is how hunters die. you fucking leered at jessica is what you did, dean if sam makes it out of this I'll accept it. if sam lives I can be okay. if this is the only way sam gets free of this, I'm okay. CALL 911 AND CALL JACK "always keep fighting" aw :( they're both very good at crying, I will give them that we never think it's gonna be the day. at least you got pie. OH THE WINCHESTER FAMILY MUSIC don't do this to me dean got a way better death than castiel. this actually reminds me a liiiiittle bit of the end of season 2? with how dean holds sam's body. the writing here is overwrought though. jared and jensen do the best they can with the script they're given but like you guys just FOUGHT GOD. they're a bit too up their own ass with this. you can tell that dabb thinks he's very clever. sam... gets a dog again? at least. i guess. the pacing is bad. I don't hate this on principle but it is not executed well. I am having like no emotional response to this except maybe relief for sam in a horrid way. like, you're free! at what cost. it's like the opposite of season 5? sam survives instead of dean. and... sam marries a dog. where do they get all this fucking lumber!!! did sam chop that all himself dude if he woke up to "heat of the moment" i'd lose my shit in the best way. gabriel wins. "gotta keep you on your toes." what had to change in this because of the pandemic? at least sam has a dog to be in scenes with him. the two guns as big and little brothers is an interesting choice of a shot. god the fucking phones. "DHS" "CIA" "dean's 'other other' phone" "state patrol" what's the paperwork on his desk? (512) is an Austin area code I have this on amazon prime and the saddest thing thus far is X-Ray: Jared Padalecki as Sam Winchester, with no other actors at all. meta ways, pandemic related. "this is agent bon jovi" donna's alive??? sam just quit, babe. just quit. or take a day off at least, jesus. didn't you just drive back from ohio are you even gonna go back to the bunker DEAN IN HEAVEN!!! how'd you get here. "well at least I made it to heaven" lmao he said the same thing oh hey bobby!! I love jack god i've missed jim beaver you guys moved on to dream bubbles!!!!! RUFUS how very homestuck + narnia of you, starring sam winchester as susan pevensie so jack just like melded all of these metaphysical spaces, I'm cool with that "so the question is what are you gonna do now, dean?" get a better beer so I can drink and drive with my car that's in heaven, I'm already dead so who cares what I hit TELL ME WHERE IS BALTHAZAR FOR I MUCH DESIRE TO SPEAK WITH HIM break everyone out of the empty I do get the impression this was supposed to be a big cast reunion and the pandemic clobbered that :( oh it's the original license plate on the impala sure do love that cas and jack "helped" to give dean everything he's ever wanted. the only time "carry on my wayward son" has been diegetic I guess sam and the dog had a child I like jared in glasses are we doing a bunch of elderly makeup yeah there he is did they just spray grey temp dye on his hair or what is sam gonna drive into toluca lake!!! buddy please don't just run the engine in a garage, he took off his glasses and that makes me nervous jake gyllenhaal looking dude which cover is this must be nice to have healthcare I so appreciate that sam's wife has zero personality and is merely in the background, of no importance whatsoever compared to his kid named dean are the two impalas gonna meet in heaven????? vancouver is beautiful, or wherever this is at jared looks so cozy in that coat you can tell j2 really do love each other for real the majesty of that forest/that river got me choked up a bit, it's such a lonely thing. like. I can see what they were going for? like dean just... getting sick, falling off a ladder, getting in a car accident, etc etc would've been more potent, I think. the execution was not good. I'm not that unhappy though. it's all right. eh. it's fine. the heartfelt message from the cast (what's left of them....) and the crew was sweet. I want to know what they were intending to do? I feel like you can definitely feel the weight of COVID fucking this up which is genuinely upsetting. sam gets like 50 years of being free of dean I GUESS???? perhaps the only way to break the cycle.

at least there was no sexual assault in this episode. i have definitely watched way worse episodes of this show. it's like. twee. but I can't be mad at these guys especially with how much I know jared in particular has been struggling with the state of the world this year but jensen talked about it with rosenbaum on his show too. 2020 has been rough. like. at least they filmed it. whatever. I feel like I get what they were trying to do even if circumstances meant it wasn't really pulled off. it seems like they were supposed to have a big cast reunion and the pandemic took the wind completely out of their sails. this feels incredibly tacked on. 15x19 would've been a much better place to stop. I feel like I just read andrew dabb's notes. I get what they were trying to go for but they didn't pull it off. I thought it was gonna be a lot worse tbh in summary: EHHHHHHHHH

#s15e20

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fyeahbecachloe · 6 years ago

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the one where beca doesn’t like dogs (4/4)

Beca/Chloe Rating: T Word Count: 2885 Summary:What looked like an emaciated wolf was currently lying on her floor glaring at her. Eyes wide, Beca stood there frozen afraid it would attack her.

Beca doesn’t like dogs but she’s dating a veterinarian so she’s pretty much screwed.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

READ ON AO3

Weekends used to be days to go out, hang with friends, go to the beach, or have date nights. Now weekends to Beca is lying on the couch doing close to nothing except watch TV and spend as much time with Chloe doing minimal activities. The exhaustion from their week only allowed them to do so much movement. The only strenuous activities they participated in was sex.

Beca was lounging on their couch, watching a Chopped marathon while Chloe cooked them lunch. She was helping earlier until Chloe kicked her out because apparently kitchen knives were not to be played with. MJ was watching her cook and hoping she’d drop a piece of food on the floor. Every once in a while Beca could hear Chloe talking to him.

“Such a good sous-chef!” Chloe praised and MJ barked. “So much better than Beca.”

Beca scoffed and lifted her head to yell at Chloe. “I heard that!” She returned back to watching but could already hear MJ running from the kitchen and into the family room where she was. He quickly jumped onto the couch and laid his entire body on top of Beca’s. His head was lying on her chest and he looked at her expectantly.

The first time he ever did that, Beca nearly pushed him off but now she’s so used to it. MJ has been in their house for about 6 weeks and he has been completely transformed. His fur has fully grown back and he was the appropriate weight. His one paw was no longer red and raw abut covered in his normal white fur. The fur on his damaged ear grew back as much as it could. He’ll always look a little funny with one pointed ear and one half an ear but Chloe said it made him that much more special. He still looked grumpy though but Beca kind of really liked that about him.

“What’s up, dude? You help Chloe cook my lunch? Am I going to be eating mouthfuls of fur?” Beca reached over and scratched behind his ear. MJ let out a little howl that sounded like he was almost talking. Another thing Beca found out while he’s been there. Huskies are talkative.

“Baby, food’s ready!” Chloe called from the kitchen.

MJ jumped off of Beca and quickly ran into the kitchen. Beca followed him, shaking her head, and sat down at the island and watched as Chloe set MJ’s food bowl down on the floor. “You do know I’m ‘baby’ right?” Beca said to MJ as he waited patiently for Chloe to give him his command. “She was telling me food was ready, not you.” But MJ wasn’t paying attention to her because Chloe had given the command and was already wolfing down his food.

Chloe laughed and set hers and Beca’s plate of food on the island. “You are ridiculous, you know that?”

“He’s ridiculous,” Beca muttered and twirled a large quantity of spaghetti on her fork and took a huge bite.

Chloe shook her head in the amusement and began eating her lunch. “So MJ is pretty much ready for adoption.”

Beca swallowed her food and took a sip of her Coke. “Oh yeah?” MJ had already finished his food and was doing his normal sitting/begging for scraps.

“Yup,” Chloe took a bite of her spaghetti before continuing. “We’re going to film one more update at the clinic, finishing the editing, and then post in on our youtube. Then MJ is going to do a little photo shoot for the adoption website. I’m sure he’ll be adopted super quickly.” Chloe grabbed her iPad that was next to her on the island and opened up the notepad that had a long paragraph written on it. “This is what’s going to accompany his adoption post.” She handed the iPad to Beca.

Hi! I’m MJ, a Siberian Husky. My rescuers estimate me to be about 2 years old. I’m 55 lbs of pure fluff. I know I look grumpy but I can assure you, I’m a big love and cuddle bug. I’m already house trained and know all my commands. I’m very good on a leash and love to stick close to my humans. And while I get along with other dogs, I prefer to be the only dog in a house. I’m also good with small humans too! I’m very active so I need daily exercise so a house with a yard would be a perfect furever home. I’m also a good listener even though I only have one ear! Please consider adopting me, I’ll love you furever!

Beca finished reading with a smile on her face. “Did you write this?”

Chloe grinned. “No, MJ did, duh.” The smiled fell from her face as if she was just realizing something. She looked down at MJ sadly. “You ready for your forever home, buddy? We’re going to have to say goodbye soon.” MJ walked over to her side and put his head on her lap and let out a dog sigh.

Even though Chloe was looking down at MJ, Beca could tell that she had tears in her eyes. She put her fork down and slid her plate to the side and turned in her chair so she was facing Chloe fully.

“What if this was his forever home?”

Chloe turned her head so fast she felt the wind from her hair. Sure enough, her eyes were filled with tears. “What?”

Beca smiled and took Chloe’s hand. “I’m saying, what if we adopt him and he becomes our dog?”

Tears were now falling down Chloe’s face. “Beca, are you serious? You want to keep MJ?” Beca nodded now only realizing the tears in her own eyes as Chloe pulled her into a kiss. She could see MJ’s tail wagging from the corner of her eye. Chloe pulled back only to stand up and pull Beca into a full body hug with her face in her neck. MJ jumped on them and started barking wanting to be a part of the hug.

“You hear that, buddy?” Chloe asked, pulling slightly back from Beca while still having one arm around her. “Mama wants to keep you forever!” MJ titled his at head both of them before jumping up to stand on hind legs while his front paws were on Chloe’s leg.

Beca watched the exchange with a tearful smile. She never told Chloe but whenever she heard her talking to MJ, Chloe always referred to Beca as “mama” and herself as “mommy.” At the time, Beca knew that Chloe was already dangerously attached but a part of her really didn’t mind having that title. MJ was practically the dog clone of her. Not that she’d ever admit that to Chloe.

“So what’s next, mommy?” Beca quipped. “When do we sign the adoption papers? Or like do a gender reveal or whatever it is that straight couples do?”

Chloe rolled her eyes. “I’ll fill them out on Monday and I’ll change all the information on his chip. Still gotta film the last update and tell our audience that we decided to keep him.” She looked at Beca curiously. “What changed you mind?”

Beca took a deep breath and looked down at MJ who was still looking at them like something was about to happen. “Partially you, partially this stinky butt. When he’s not annoying the crap out of me, he’s so��” She stopped not really know how to describe a dog she never wanted made her feel. “Warm.” She looked back Chloe who was looking at her like she was the whole world. “Like you. You both feel like home.”

Chloe was crying again as she softly kissed Beca. “I have a confession to make.”

Beca grinned. “What? You knew I would want to keep him the entire time?”

“Actually no, after all these years, you still surprise me.” Beca smiled at that. “No, I wanted to say that I named him at the clinic when we first got him.”

Beca squinted at her not quite sure where she was going with this. “Okay?”

Chloe let out a laugh. “MJ stands for Mitchell Jr., I named him after you.”

If Chloe wasn’t already holding her, Beca would’ve pulled back from shock. Her mouth was open in offense. “You named a mangy dog after me? How very dare you!” MJ let out an annoyed grunt at Beca’s outburst (proving Chloe’s point more) before going back to his spot in the family room.

“Babe, please, you’re exactly the same. First, he looks grumpy as hell. He has blue eyes, (“You have blue eyes!”), he seemed to only like me and not anyone else, he doesn’t really like playing with other dogs, but once you get to know him, he’s the softest, sweetest dog in the world. Just like you.” She finished by tapping Beca on her nose.

Beca grumbled. “I’m not the dog.” Chloe laughed and pulled her back for another kiss.

“I love you, thanks for letting us keep MJ.”

“I love you too, please don’t tell anyone you named him after me.”

Chloe’s laughter filled the entire house. “I promise.”

Beca was working on a remix at the studio when she got a notification on her phone from youtube. Unlocking her phone, her lock screen was now a picture of Chloe with MJ, she smiled when she saw that Chloe had finally posted MJ’s rescue video. Pausing what she was doing on her mixing program, Beca went to her laptop and opened up a browser to youtube and clicked on her subscription notifications.

The thumbnail on the video was of MJ smiling and Beca couldn’t help her own as she clicked the play button. A black screen with the text WARNING: GRAPHIC WOUND PICURES CONTAINED IN VIDEO. PLEASE ADVISE appeared. Beca frowned because she knew that she’s probably going to be seeing MJ’s damaged ear.

“Hey guys, welcome back to Scrappy Little Pawbuddies, I’m Doctor Chloe.” The video started with Chloe walking outside while filming herself. “I’m here with Xavier.” The camera moved behind Chloe where one of Chloe’s coworkers waved. “We just received a call about an injured husky that’s been frequenting an old shed. The local neighbors are not quite sure how long he’s been there but they have been leaving food for him. We’re here to see if we can get him back to the clinic.

The camera turned so Beca could see where they were walking to. The shed was located on an old lot and she could see MJ coming into view as Chloe and Xavier got closer. “There he is.” Chloe’s voice was a whisper and they stopped about 10 feet from where MJ was. He looked awful laying on the ground like that. He looked just liked when Beca first met him but a lot dirtier and his ear was bleeding. MJ definitely noticed them approaching because he quickly stood up with his tail between his legs. The camera was set on the ground but still had a good shot of the dog and she saw Xavier slowly approaching with a hamburger and a soft snare.

“Hey buddy, you hungry?” Xavier said as he stopped and knelt down a few feet away from MJ but he was already baring his teeth and was growling quietly. Xavier ripped a few pieces off the hamburger and threw it towards MJ. MJ sniffed at them but didn’t eat any pieces. Text appeared on the bottom of the screen. Xavier realized that the dog probably didn’t trust men so we waited a little while before Dr. Chloe tried.

There was an obvious time jump in the video as it cross faded so now Chloe was sitting in front of MJ and was trying to coax him out of the shed.

“Are you sure you don’t want any food? It’s really good.” She too threw some pieces of burger to MJ but this time he ate a few. He very slowly walked out of the shed and approached Chloe. Beca has watched enough of these videos but it still made her worry every single time Chloe would be this close to a stray especially if it was a bigger dog. Chloe had gotten her fair share of bites from scared dogs. But this time, Beca actually knew how this rescue was going to end.

“Good boy!” MJ was completely within in Chloe’s reach now and he licked her hand. She carefully and easily slipped a loose leash around his neck and gently petted him. The video continued showing Chloe and Xavier walking MJ back to the rescue van and he allowed Xavier to lift him into the crate in the back. The video faded again and now they were back in the clinic and Chloe was standing next MJ who was on an exam table. It looked like he was just freshly bathed and his ear was cleaned up. He was trying to lick Chloe as he she spoke to the camera

”Hey guys, we’re back in the clinic and we decided to name him MJ. We ran a few tests on him, gave him a bath, and cleaned out his ear which looks like was bitten by another dog. It had a little infection so he’s now on antibiotics. He was thankfully heartworm negative and surprisingly no fleas or ticks. Main concerns are his paw, ear, and it looked like he had some irritated skin at some point hence the patches of fur missing. It’s thankfully not mange so that hair will grow back soon. He was surprisingly microchipped but unfortunately the phone number was disconnected.”

Another text appeared on the screen explaining to the audience that the previous owner had died.

“We’re going to keep him here for a few days before he goes off to a foster. Well, actually I’m going to foster him until he’s ready for adoption.” Chloe smiled as she tried to keep MJ from trying to lick her during her entire explanation. “He’s actually already very trained so he seems like he’ll be a really good house guest. We’ll keep you updated on his progress.”

The video continued on as Chloe filmed his progress and it was really something to see MJ transform to a healthy dog. Of course Beca was there during the entire thing but to see it happen on a time lapsed video definitely showed the stark difference. Finally it got to the final update which Beca knew was filmed just a few days ago. MJ was wearing a Barden Bella scarf around his neck. Chloe’s idea obviously.

“Hey guys! Back with the final update with MJ and you’ll be happy to know he’s been adopted.” Chloe paused for dramatic effect. “By me! And my girlfriend. Yes, a complete foster fail, right buddy?” MJ licked her face. “We wanted to thank everyone again for watching and donating. If it weren’t for you, these rescues wouldn’t be possible. MJ is now a happy and healthy, very spoiled dog. Thanks for watching this video and we’ll see you again on the next rescue on Scrappy Little Pawbuddies! Say bye, MJ!” Beca let out a laugh when MJ raised his paw a few times and it looked like he was waving. The video faded to a screen with all the information on the rescue and how to adopt and ways to donate.

Beca scrolled through the comments and smiled at all the ones thanking Chloe and the rescue for all they do and the ones saying how cute MJ was. Of course she rolled her eyes on the ones asking about “Dr. Chloe’s girlfriend” and the rest of the comments telling the user that it was Beca. Sometimes she forgot she was actually a little famous.

Her facetime ringtone interrupted her perusing through the comments and her face broke into a smile when she answered Chloe’s call.

“Hey babe!” Chloe’s blurry face came into focus and Beca could see she was in her office. “Did you watch the video?”

“Of course I did, our little stinker is going to be famous.” Beca saw the phone’s camera flip and then she saw MJ’s grumpy face appear on her screen. “What’s up, dude? You’re about to go viral, please don’t let that inflate your ego.” Beca could tell he was a little confused as to where her voice was coming from so he just barked. Chloe turned the camera back to her.

“What time are you expecting to be home tonight? I’m cutting out early because it’s a slower day so I’ll probably be home around 5.”

Beca looked at the remix she was currently working on and saw she only had a few more things to tweak. “I probably could be out by 6 if I’m lucky. Don’t worry about dinner, I’ll get us take out.”

Chloe smiled. “Okay, I’ll let you get back to work so you can home early. MJ! Come say bye to mama.” She flipped the camera again and MJ did his little wave. Beca reflexively waved back. “Bye Beca, love you.”

“Love you, too.”

Beca continued her work with a big smile on her face. The rest of the day flew by as Beca’s mind was filled with thoughts of coming home to her family.

#bechloe #beca x chloe #my fics

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hiyo-silver · 6 years ago

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"What's Up You Guys It's Me, Bdenbrough!" - personal vlog CUTTING MY HAIR OFF

Summary: Bill cuts his hair off finally after some time of feeling uncomfortable about it. Beverly helps him fix it up in the end.

Chapter 1 2 3 4 5 + ao3

Taglist: @hazelash @fuckboykaspbrak @thesquidliesthuman @rachi0964 @beepbeep-losers @bigbilliamdenbro @jalenrose11 @sleepygaybrough @itandstrangerthingsfanfic @boopboopbichie @peachywyatt @aizeninlefox @sockwantstodie @ahoybyeler @yooonbum @coffeekaspbrak

The art video turns out to be a big hit with his viewers, and he decides to keep up with that video style. He pumps out a few more draw with me videos, then jumps onto the Inktober bandwagon later than he wishes he did, but he did due to popular demand, and the drawings do well in his videos and even on his instagram.

He keeps up with his drawing better than with the challenges. He can slowly get better at art, but challenges weren’t getting him anywhere. Now he gets to even improve and gain followers by sharing his own ideas and talent. His hands get less shaky as he goes, and now he’s learned the fact that if he gets popular enough he could gain money from it. He’d love for that, he could get copics, or even a drawing tablet.

Even better, by November he has the best idea he possibly could. His video won’t necessarily be an art video, but it is one that excites him to share. He sets up the camera in his bathroom, leaned against the mirror next to the sink. He clicks the button to start the recording, letting out a deep sigh to try and calm his racing heart.

He’s in basically pajamas, just a t-shirt and some sweatpants, it’s a Friday night and he just wants to do this impulsively. He has a pair of craft scissors in his hand, posing ironically with them before he properly starts filming, he needs a thumbnail of course. “What up y-you guys it’s m-me, bdenbrough, and today’s video is o-one I’ve been p-p-putting off for a long time,” he says truthfully, holding up the scissors before he starts explaining.

“I have a r-really complicated relationship w-with my hair. It’s long and a-annoying and I don’t th-think it looks nice on me. So f-for today’s video, I’m going to be cutting it off. M-myself. It won’t l-look good but! M-maybe Beverly c-can help me save it!” he says with a slight chuckle.

He takes the scissors and pulls out a lock of hair from his shoulder, snipping it ceremoniously at a random place to get himself started, giggling in excitement and feeling empowered with the first cut. Soon it’ll be gone, soon he’ll feel more like himself.

He snips away quietly, the crunch of the scissors going through his thick hair is the only sound in the bathroom except when the heat comes on for about ten minutes. He goes about this slowly. Something to remember, it’s important for him and he wants this moment to last. When he edits he’ll have to speed it up and put some fun and upbeat music in the background, but for now this it time with himself.

He gets it all up to his shoulders, then to his earlobes, and now he wants to be more careful so it actually looks good. He decides it would just be best to ask Bev to come over, she can sneak out without her parents noticing quite well by now. He pauses his filming to call her over, she doesn’t mind, she’s just a little shocked.

She arrives and he starts the camera again before he even lets her see his hair, making her stand outside his bathroom and knock so he can get a good take of surprising his friend. She gasps quietly and runs her hand through a longer strand by his ear. “Short hair suits you,” she says finally in a small voice. His heart can’t help but swell with joy.

“Now let me help you clean this up, alright?” she asks, waiting for his hesitant nod, looking him in the eye where she sees tears lying at his lower lashline like a sea below the sea of his blue eyes. He’s never looked so elated, Beverly can’t help but smile herself.

She snips at an upward patter to try and make it look natural, like a haircut done professionally. “Kids at school might say stuff, letting you know,” she says just as softly as she’s been, running her hands through Bill’s now short hair to get the trimmed pieces of his head, letting them flutter down to the floor with the rest of it.

“I know. I j-just was really getting t-tired of it long,” he sighs, smiling awkwardly, his lips spread wide apart to try and hold his innocence in the conversation. He looks to the camera again, trying to be mindful of the fact that he’ll have to edit this all to make sense later. Now he thinks he may put in some more emotional music in the sped up parts, he might take Bev’s statements to make it better. Not to capitalize on this, but it would be something he’s more proud of in the end.

“I’m getting tired of mine too. What do you say I trim some of mine off too?” she asks as she finishes making the hair on his head look more presentable. Bill gives a happy nod, he surely doesn’t mind her snipping some off in solidarity. Maybe he won’t be alone in the teasing about his hair being all chopped off if she has new hair too.

Bev takes the scissors and looks in the mirror, leaning over the counter to get closer to it to be sure she can see her hair properly. She goes slowly. She’s also been needing a trim, she’s glad for the opportunity to do it with her close friend. She only chops up to her shoulders, but that is a big change for her regardless due to how long it was previously.

“How do I look?” she asks as she finishes about half of her head, still trying to add layered ends as she talks, only looking over at Bill through his reflection in the mirror. He smiles, his grin full of a sparkling enthusiasm.

“You l-look beautiful B-Bev,” he smiles, his voice quiet but just loud enough for the camera to pick up. He may have to edit that out, he doesn’t want all of his followers to be able to deduce hi crush on her, he doesn’t need that teasing.

They finish up their hair, taking some nice selfies together for the thumbnail and a few for each of their instagrams. He sits down to edit it, looking at himself. He hasn’t filmed his body in a while, it makes him uncomfortable, from that moment on, he decides he’ll wear sports bras. He misses the way his chest looked before these things decided to grow on him.

#it novel #it stephen king #it fanfic #it stephen king fanfic #it stephen king fic #my fics #it bill #bill denbrough #it bill denbrough #stenbrough fic #it movie 2017 #it bev #it beverly #it beverly marsh #it bev marsh #beverly marsh #bev marsh

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perfectirishgifts · 4 years ago

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How Amazon Original Stories Chooses Its “Single Sitting” Reads

New Post has been published on https://perfectirishgifts.com/how-amazon-original-stories-chooses-its-single-sitting-reads/

How Amazon Original Stories Chooses Its “Single Sitting” Reads

Amazon Original Stories, an imprint of Amazon Publishing, launched in November 2017, offering short fiction and nonfiction, built around the idea of works that can be read in a “single sitting.” The imprint’s first titles were Crown Heights, a collaboration with Amazon Studios, and Joyce Carol Oates’s Sign of the Beast.

Since then, the imprint has published close to 150 digital stories, which are available free to Amazon Prime AMZN members and Kindle Unlimited subscribers, with a free audio edition included (those who aren’t part of either program can buy titles for $1.99 each, with the option to add the digital audio for free). The imprint releases roughly 40-50 stories per year in a variety of genres.

I interviewed Julia Sommerfeld, Publisher of Amazon Original Stories, via email, about the trajectory of Amazon Original Stories (AOS), how authors are selected, crafting collections and the most popular types of stories.

Why was Amazon Original Stories started? How is it different from Kindle Singles?

Amazon Original Stories launched with the mission of championing stories, essays, and reporting by the premiere storytellers of our time and expanding readers’ horizons by making these stories free to Prime and Kindle Unlimited members. In addition to full-length novels, memoir and nonfiction, many authors are also writing short, compelling stories and essays and we wanted to provide an imprint that would support their short work and share it with readers.

Are all of them also available on Audible with audiobook versions?

Our stories allow readers to toggle back and forth between reading and audio, so you can start listening to a story on the road and keep reading on your Kindle or the Kindle app on your phone right where you left off. We’re seeing more and more customers switching back and forth between their audio and digital downloads. It’s really encouraging to see that folks are fitting the stories into their lives so seamlessly.

Not only have we partnered with bestselling authors to read their own audio editions—like David Sedaris reading Themes and Variations and Mindy Kaling reading Nothing Like I Imagined (Except for Sometimes)—but we’ve also brought in some venerated celebrity narrators. In September, we released Out of Line, a collection of seven short ‘Fem-Fi’ stories from an all-star lineup of award-winning writers Cheryl Strayed, Roxane Gay, Caroline Kepnes, Lisa Ko, Emma Donoghue, Mary Gaitskill and Kate Atkinson. We matched that with an star-studded lineup of narrators for the audio editions, including Kristen Bell, Samira Wiley, Margo Martindale, Gwendoline Christie and Lea Salonga.

Why did you see a need for stories fitting this “single-sitting” length?

Some of the most powerful, memorable—and satisfying—stories can be told in a single sitting. Just think about the classic short works like Shirley Jackson’s The Lottery or Henry James’ The Turn of the Screw, which haunted generations, or a great episode of your favorite podcast.

Our stories and collections are made to be binged, just like your favorite podcast or television show. But these days, with our attention spans a bit frayed, it can feel less daunting to pick up a shorter work. For some readers, that single sitting might last a 30-minute work break or for others, a whole rainy Sunday. Also, Kindle attracts a pretty voracious readership, so it’s helpful to tide readers over between their favorite author’s books.

How do you go about selecting authors for AOS? Are they all previously published authors?

We start with readers and go from there. We look for authors and content creators of all types that readers are just itching to hear more from, and who have a track record for executing deeply satisfying and memorable storylines.

For fiction, we have an established fiction audience that’s hungry for more in popular categories like mystery and thriller, science fiction and fantasy, historical fiction, etc. For nonfiction, we are drawn to novelistic storytelling—especially memoir and personal essay. We have signed both established autobiographical writers like David Sedaris and Mindy Kaling, while also commissioning bestselling writers in other categories to write about themselves: Jacqueline Woodson, Shea Serrano, Jade Chang and Susan Orlean, for example.

We want to work with writers at the top of their game who will feel like an AOS story adds to their careers. We like to think of AOS as a playground for published authors, storytellers, and emerging voices. Writers have a chance to flex their short story muscles, or to explore outside of the genre they’re most known for. Amor Towles, a star of historic fiction, for instance, turned his storytelling chops to speculative fiction in our Forward collection. Authors are the original world builders, and many of them find inspiration by the chance to do something new. Or, perhaps they can explore something they’ve been thinking about for a long time that doesn’t fit the format of a full-length novel. In some cases, we’ll launch someone new with a unique voice or story, such as debut writer Samantha Allen’s memoir about falling in love while undergoing gender transformation surgery, Love & Estrogen.

AOS has released many collections around a theme, such as love stories in The Real Thing, stories by crime writers in Hush, and climate fiction in Warmer. What do the collections offer that readers may not get with individual stories?

With collections, readers can read something completely original and unexpected from their most beloved authors or be introduced to several new favorite writers, all within a couple of hours.

We love offering readers a real diversity of experience or perspective on the subject or theme, while also giving them the ability to discover new writers. Because the investment is relatively low—both because it’s free with Prime and doesn’t require the time commitment of digesting several full-length books—we see these collections as a gateway to finding the next author you’ll be obsessed with. We take great pride in presenting a sort of Avengers-like super team of writers we think our audience will really love. Hush, for instance, featured top suspense writers Ruth Ware, Laura Lippman, Oyinkan Braithwaite, Jeffery Deaver, Lisa Unger and Alison Gaylin.

Which types of stories have been most popular with readers, and why do you think that is? Is fiction more popular than nonfiction?

So far, both thrillers and memoirs are really topping our list so I wouldn’t say fiction or nonfiction is the determining factor. But readers do seem pretty open to trying different genres as long as the hook is there and the story is really satisfying. We, like our readers, look for a powerful plot.

Do you see a correlation in sales of their previous books when an author releases an AOS title?

We definitely see AOS as helping to raise all boats. We work to grow audiences for our authors, and that means people returning to their previous books or maybe pre-ordering their upcoming release. One of the favorite things I see in customers’ reviews is when they say, Oh, I love this so much, I’m going to check out their other books!

We are also excited that many of the stories are also being spun into TV and film projects. Ken Liu’s The Cleaners, which comes out December 15, is now in TV development with Amazon Studios as is Andrew Barrer’s Young Blood, which started as a single story, and we are now expanding into a trilogy of stories and an Amazon Studios film project.

I saw in another interview you said more people are reading on their phones. How are most people accessing AOS? Has the increase in reading by phone affected how you approach AOS?

People mostly interact with the stories through their phones and the Kindle. Our guiding principle is meeting readers where they are. One example of how this plays out is switching between ebook and audio editions. All our stories use the Whispersync for Voice feature, which allows you to switch from listening to reading and back again without losing your place. So you can go for your daily masked quarantine walk with headphones on, and pull your device out afterward for some armchair reading without missing a beat.

The popularity of mobile also really informs cover design—the stories need to pop and register as a thumbnail image rather than physical book on shelf. And it informs our editorial strategy in that we want to be urgent and relevant enough for people to spend their pockets of time with these stories, but we also want to help readers escape and carve time away from the constant noise of the headlines.

Why did you want to work with Chimamanda Ngozi Adiche? What can readers expect from her new story Zikora?

She’s just so beloved, and crosses so many audiences, that we’ve always had her at the top of our wish list as a creator who could make just about anybody stop what they are doing to spend a little time in a world she draws.

Zikora is a passion project for her; it’s a really powerful look at becoming a mother, and how the experience of entering parenthood leads you to see your own parents more clearly. Readers can expect a deeply emotional, character-driven short story that puts a human face on urgent issues. Chimamanda has an unparalleled talent for creating characters with such loving specificity, who at the same time illuminate these universal desires and fears that any reader can relate to.

We also worked with the Nigerian-American actress Adepero Oduye (Pariah, 12 Years a Slave) on the audio version of this story, and she really brought an extra layer of emotional resonance to it. I can’t decide if I enjoy reading or listening to this one better.

What’s next for AOS?

Faraway, a collection of fairytale retellings from blockbuster young adult authors Rainbow Rowell, Nic Stone, Soman Chainani, Ken Liu, and Gayle Forman, releases December 15. Looking towards 2021, Oscar award-winning filmmaker and author Guillermo del Toro will release a new collection of dark and fantastical stories in Fall. Dean Koontz is returning with Season 2 of Nameless, which will extend a beloved series that we started in 2019. Plus, we have projects coming from Guillermo del Toro , Susan Orlean, Kiley Reid, Curtis Sittenfeld, Lisa Unger, Jia Tolentino, Justin Torres, Jeff Lemire and many more in the works.

From Media in Perfectirishgifts

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chameleonspell · 8 years ago

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193: shared

For as long as he had known Celegorn, Iriel had known about the Words. That a central part of Cel's daily rituals was the Writing of his Words. That for one blissfully peaceful hour, the Bosmer would retreat to his room, lock the door, and vanish from Ire's consciousness, save for faint scribbling sounds, and occasional screeches for someone to fetch him more paper or pencils. Later, Iriel would hear him emerge, arms laden with paper, heading for the furnace, where he would stuff them all inside. If anyone tried to read them, he would twitch his ears and hiss.

Insomuch as he gave the matter the slightest thought, Iriel had assumed he wrote poetry. Probably the angry, incoherent kind favoured by some of Ire's edgier friends in the Imperial City, involving a lot of swearing and capital letters. Or perhaps political manifestos, which, in Ire's mind, were indistinguishable from the poetry. As it turned out, he'd been wrong. Cel's words were just that. Words. "Sometimes he gets one stuck in his head, yeah?" Bodu informed him, digging an elbow into the yielding armrest of his sand-moulded beach throne. "And then he can't get it out till he writes it enough times. Then it comes out, and he can burn it, he says." Leaning on the outside of the sand-throne, cupping a pipe in his hands, Iriel wrinkled his nose. "Like when you write a word so many times, you start to doubt whether it's really a word, and not just a meaningless jumble of noises and letters?" "Kinda." Bodu extended his jaw, the better to scrape something off his tusk with a thumbnail. "Except kinda the other way around." "What?" "Ah, forget it." Since the Ahemmusa had no paper, and refused to spare him animal hides, Celegorn had been forced to adopt an entirely new paradigm. For the first time, he was making his words public. Now, everyone could share in the Words. "BODU!" Cel's shout echoed up from the shoreline. "How many Bs?" Bodu squinted down the twilit beach, to where Cel had scraped the letters GIB across the damp sand, with a stick. "Two, bro," he called. "Then it's, like, an E, I think?" He slid a glance at Iriel, who nodded. Celegorn's prized Imperial Dictionary of the Tamrielic Language hadn't made it to the Grazelands, but he was making up the deficit with crowdsourcing. "I don't see why it matters how he spells it," Ire muttered to Bodu. "As long as he thinks it looks right, who cares what the dictionary says?" He took a final drag on the kreshweed, and passed the clay pipe to Ulabael on his other side. Bodu yawned. "Nah, pal, he's got to get the letters right, that's part of it." He scratched vaguely at the back of his head. "He says it's somethin' about forcing the sounds back into a normative ontology an' trapping them in a coercive framework of imposed meaning." Ire stared at him, until the smoke burned his lungs, and he broke into an explosive cough. "You two are fucking weird," he choked. Celegorn finished "GIBBET" and started on "SPOONS", his pale form swaying and spinning against the darkening sea. Shani was next to him, hair aflame with the last of the sunset, dancing in and out of the surf on her toes. She claimed not to read, but when Celegorn let her, she would help him copy out the words, imitating the letter-shapes in the sand, until he was satisfied. Doing it this way had been her idea, once she'd understood the purpose. "You can make them," she'd said, "and then let the sea eat them, when the tide comes in. I do it with pictures all the time." "IRIEL!" Ire winced, but flailed an answering hand in Cel's direction. "The fuck d'you want?" "HOW THE FUCK DO YOU SPELL 'CHITINOUS'?" "Wha' the fuck makes you think I know how the fuck to spell 'chitinous'?" "You fucking look like a fucking man who knows how the fuck to spell 'chitinous'!" "Fuck you!" Cel maintained that yurts were fundamentally flawed, in terms of security, and he refused to trust them with his valuables. As a result, some fourteen knives, of various shapes and sizes, hung from his belt. (As did a small pair of shorts, to Ire's infinite relief.) Julan had asked, once, where one of these knives had come from. Cel had beamed at his interest. "This pretty thing," he'd said, "I found buried deeeeeep, six feet deep in the mud at the bottom of the Balmora river!" "What in Oblivion were you doing down there?" Julan had demanded. "Looking for knives!" Julan had ground his jaw. "That... checks out," he'd said, reluctantly. As Cel sprinted up the beach towards him, arms held out, Ire began frantically chanting letters at him like a warding spell. With a gleeful hop, Cel returned to the surf, twirling his stick like a majorette. He no longer had access to moon sugar, but endless space to run around and scream in, coupled with the sea air, and Ulabael's equally endless supply of kreshweed, seemed to be providing some counterbalance. He looked happier than Ire had ever seen him. Bodu passed Iriel the bottle of greef. Ire was about to hand it on without drinking, when the knot of worry in his chest twinged and tightened, changing his mind. He took a long pull, swallowed, almost retched, then spat out a fly. "Here," he told Ulabael, as he passed it to him. "I sieved it for you." Ulabael nodded his thanks from the sand. He lay flat on his back with a serene smile, long black hair fanning out around him like a halo of void. "Ads is far too mature for beach drinking," Ulabael had smirked, when Iriel had asked if his partner Addammus would be joining them. "He is the old and sensible one, and I am the unrespectable youth with the bad habits." Shani was running towards them, now. "Hey!" she shouted at Bodu. "You're in my throne! Get out of my throne!" "Ah, c'mon..." Bodu protested, as she pulled at his arm. "You weren't using it!" "Get out, before I kick you out!" "You'd kick a guy with broken legs out of a chair? That's cold!" "I'll break his arms, too, if he's not careful! Out!" Much giggling and squabbling ensued, Shani forcing her way into the chair, while Bodu tried to sit on her lap, until the entire thing disintegrated into a heap of sand, limbs and howls of laughter. Iriel got up and slouched away, suddenly feeling very old, or at least, like the only adult present. Perhaps he should have stayed in the camp with Minabibi, and helped her chop herbs. Or followed Rakeem's lead, and marched back to camp with a disapproving frown, as soon as Ulabael had produced the liquor from his gather-sack with a flourish. Only slightly unstably, he left the circle of tawny light flickering out from the ramshackle driftwood fire. He wouldn't dream of interrupting Celegorn, so he turned inland instead, towards the point where stones and dry, leggy grasses began to clog the dingy little beach, until it was the Grazelands again. As he climbed a dune, the wind caught the back of his top - the pinkish sleeveless thing he'd found in Gnisis. It billowed out, making him shiver, and regret leaving his scarf on the beach. The day had been so hot, he'd forgotten how fast the temperature could drop, by the sea after dark. It was Last Seed. Late summer, and a full year since he'd arrived in Morrowind. In another moons' turn, everyone said, the camp would move again. East, to where the grazing was worse, but there was more protection from the winds, and they would arrive at Vos in time for the yearly guar trading meet between the clans. Kausi was already grieving over which of his babies he had resolved to part with, changing his mind five times a day. "He's not allowed to come with me to the trade meet any more," Sen had said. "Or he tries to buy them all back in worse deals, as soon as my back's turned. One year, he lost his damn shoes." For now, Ahemmusa camp lay in the distance, the amiable glow of the buglamps and the gently clashing chords of the wind chimes inviting him closer. He was a welcome guest, he knew, had been for over a week, now. He was still uneasy around the elders and some of the more boisterous warriors, but in general, people were polite, or left him alone. Besides, he had friends. All in all, there was no reason for him to stumble around alone in the dark, fretting over things he couldn't control. He caught his foot on a tussock, steadied himself again on a boulder. Yet here we are again. The area around him, between the camp lights and the beach fire, was quickly shadowing into an expanse of black nothing, a hole to lose himself in. He held up a hand: barely visible. Who needs illusion spells? Even now, it's easier here, being hidden, slipping safely into the cracks between real places, solid states. Perhaps it always will be. But... as long as I know I'm here... know who I am, and where I should be... I can keep myself together. Even when I'm alone, I can be enough for myself. But... He looked from the beach to the clustered yurts. Then he wrapped his arms around his chest, and sighed. "Iyaaaa!" came a distant shout, and even with his hair braided back tighter than usual, he knew Julan's silhouette. By the time Iriel reached him, Julan had dropped his pack and shield to the grass, the better to embrace him properly. Ire fell into his arms, beaming and breathless. "You shitbag!" he exclaimed. "It's been three fucking days, I thought you were dead!" "Sorry. Between leaving the cavern with the bones, and taking them to Sinnammu, I went to see Mother. Ended up staying longer than I meant to. We... had a lot to talk about." Iriel didn't just police his tone of voice, he subjected it to military occupation. "Oh?" "Yeah, I..." Julan huffed warm breath into Iriel's neck, kissed his skin then pulled away. "You're gonna hate it, but... I forgave her." His eyes shone dimly in the dark, with a brighter flash as they lifted to meet Ire's. "I don't hate it." Ire wasn't sure if Julan could see him smile, but he did it anyway. "I said I'd support your decision. Anyway, whatever my thoughts about your mother, I'm not going to... project things. True, the only thing I want from my mother now is for her to pretend I don't exist, but... you and your mother aren't me and mine. I do realise that, you know. And I understand you might want different things from yours." Julan shrugged, and made an exhausted gesture. "I don't know about any of that. I only know I want to forgive her. No, not even that. I know I want to be the sort of person who forgives her." He attempted a laugh. "I guess it's pretty selfish." Iriel hugged him again. "Good." "I said she'd have to accept a few things. That I'm not going to be living there with her any more. That I'm an adult, I get to make my own choices, and she can like it or shut up. That one of my choices... is you." "What?" Ire's chest turned to water, shapeless and spilling. "You... told her?" "Ah... yeah. She took it... better than I thought. Eye twitched hard, for a minute, then she pretended like she already knew." Ire's chest was bubbling, now, fizzing into his throat, bursting into a grin. "As long as she keeps to the 'shut up' part of the deal, I don't care." "Actually... I think she likes you. That's a new one. I... really don't know what to do with that." "Oh gods." Ire dropped his forehead onto Julan's shoulder. "You do realise, that's twice as terrifying as her hating me?" At this point, Shani and Celegorn, bored of watching their handiwork get swallowed by the sea, caught sight of them, and for a while, all chance for private conversation was lost. The next few hours were spent around the fire on the beach. Iriel stretched himself out across the sand, head resting on Julan's thighs, while Julan described his journey through the Daedra caves, answering Bodu's eager questions, and parrying Shani's reflexive mockery. Celegorn and Ulabael snored gently, leaving Ire to monopolise the kreshweed pipe. Ahemmusa life began early, however, so it was well before midnight when Bodu whistled for Pasha, and Shani shook the others awake long enough for them all to help each other stagger back across the grasslands to their beds. Technically, Julan no longer being Mamaea's patient, he was still outcast, and should sleep at his mother's camp. For his part, Ire had a borrowed bedroll in the yurt Ulabael shared with Addammus. Ire liked them well enough, but the fire was warm, and now that he and Julan had the beach to themselves, neither was in any hurry to move. Julan had been staring into the flames for some time, jaw sliding slowly back and forth. Ire reached up and poked him. "You OK, n'wah?" he rasped, in gruff imitation. Julan blinked at him, eyes slowly refocusing into the present. "Ah... yeah. I just... thought I'd feel different, you know?" "About what?" "My father. I thought if I found his body, I'd... I dunno... feel some kind of connection. That bringing his spirit home would make me feel like I was really his son, or something. When I was in the cavern, I did feel like he was... close, maybe. Trying to... I'm not sure. But later, when Sinnammu guided his soul through the Waiting Door, she told me he... said things." Ire tried to sift the emotion from Julan's vacant tone, but obtained too little to analyse. "Bad things?" he ventured. "No! No... good things. Things a father should say. That it should make me feel better, to hear, but..." "You think Sinnammu was making it up, to placate you?" "I think... it doesn't matter. That I'm glad I brought him back, for the tribe's sake, but none of it really makes him my father. He's just this man I hardly knew. But... maybe that's all right." His eyebrows jerked upwards. "Anyway," he said, breaking into a grin, "some of my relatives are easier to find. At my mother's, I met Fedura." "Who?" "My grandmother." "Oh! You mean Talammu?" Julan laughed. "Talammu's not her name, that just means 'grandmother'. Although, from what she told me, it's as accurate as any other of her names. Seems like deceiving your children runs in my family." Ire wrinkled his nose. "I thought she was supposed to be some sort of... kidnapped Redoran noblewoman, or something." "I know. So did my mother." Julan was wearing a smirk of indescribable smugness. "Funny story, actually. Turns out, she was never any kind of noblewoman. She was a slave, owned by an Ald'ruhn clothier, whose cart overturned in the Ashlands, leaving her the only survivor. When she saw the Urshilaku coming, she put on the fine clothes they were carrying, in the hope they'd seek a ransom, instead of killing her. By the time the tribe realised no one was coming for her, she'd charmed half the camp, and the ashkhan made her his wife." Ire glared up at him through a haze of kreshweed smoke. "Julan, if anything, that makes her story even more horrible than it already was! Stop looking so happy about this, just because your mother was lied to!" "Ah, but that's not all." His eyebrows waggled, mysteriously. "I always hated my name, because it wasn't Velothi. All Mother would tell me was that when she named me, she was furious with her own people. She'd been exiled by both the Urshilaku and the Ahemmusa, and she decided she'd name me for Molag Bal before she'd name me for any of them. The only people she still cared about were her mother and sister, and, well, I was a boy. But she remembered her mother used to tell stories about her brother, who'd been a brave and noble warrior, and whose sudden death at a young age broke her heart. So Mother named me for him, instead." "Hold on. Your grandmother was a slave, but she somehow had a noble Redoran brother?" "No. She lied about that, too." "You were named after a lie?" "Not exactly. Julan existed, Fedura told me, but he wasn't her brother, and he wasn't Redoran. Did you never realise, she asked my mother, that Julan isn't a proper Dunmeri name? What do you mean, my mother said, it is city-Dunmeris, it means 'benefit', or 'blessing', like the name of the gah-julan armour style. And my grandmother made this odd face, and said, well yes, technically it means that. But in the cities, the most common usage is something closer to 'servant', or 'helper'. Or 'the help'." Realisation dawned, and Ire's eyes widened. "It's a slave-name." Julan's teeth flashed again in the firelight. "An Argonian slave-name. Mother was horrified." Ire snorted. "Ohhh, I see. So that's why you're happy." "I'm not just happy because Mother got a scrib up her skirt! I'm happy because I never wanted to be named after some fancypants Redoran noble. This is far better. Especially as it means so much to my grandmother. Julan was no warrior, she said, but he was brave, and he did die young, in the cart crash. They'd grown up as slaves together, and she loved him a lot. She was deeply moved that I shared his name, even if it wasn't his real, Argonian one." "I'm happy for you," Iriel told him. "Especially since you'll have plenty of time to become the Ebon Crest, now that you don't have to be Nerevar any more." The joke was out of his mouth before he could stop it, but fortunately for Ire, Julan didn't flinch. He even laughed, weakly, then quietened, a pensive look returning to his face. "I mean... that's over," Iriel prompted, suddenly wary. "Isn't it?" "What is?" "All this prophecy guarshit... everything that's not... not lying in your lap, a little drunk, and a lot high, all under some very pretty stars." Julan didn't reply for a while, his fingers slipping into Iriel's hair and idling across his scalp. Then: "Why would it be over?" he said softly. "Aren't you going to show the Moon-and-Star to the Urshilaku, and--" Iriel's head jerked out of his lap, twisting to stare at him. "Why the fuck would I do that?! Sweetheart, I told you! It's a scam, a piece of empty metal!" "So you say, but... how can you be sure?" "Try it on yourself, if you don't believe me!" "And if you're wrong, and I die? Explode into a big, bloody mess of 'Told you so'?" Ire let his head fall back. "Gods, I wouldn't put it past you, just to spite me. No, I suppose you'd better not try it. That scheming shitbag Azura would zap you herself, purely to teach us a lesson." "Better watch your tongue, or you'll be the one getting cursed." "She can come and do it to my fucking face, then." Iriel narrowed his eyes at the constellations, sprawling out above them in all their wild, deceptive beauty and mindless cosmic machinations. "Fuck prophecies," he said. "Fuck stars, fuck bloodlines. I've changed my mind about a lot of things, you know, but nothing will ever convince me that any of us was born to do anything, or that the circumstances of your birth dictate your existence. And you know what?" He wobbled a finger at Julan "That would still be true, even if one of us was Nerevar reborn. Even if we had his soul, it wouldn't fucking matter, it wouldn't mean we had to do anything! Let alone climb a fucking live volcano and try to kill a diseased demigod!" "OK." Julan stroked his hair in a soothing manner. "Let's say I believe you." "Good." "Let's say you're completely right about everything you just said." "Thank you, I am." "Let's do it anyway." "Exactl-- ...what?" Julan's hand slid down Ire's brow and traced the side of his face. "What if we didn't do it because of a prophecy, or a curse, or Imperial blackmail, or anything like that. What if we did it because it was the right thing to do, and somebody has to?" Iriel looked up at him, transfixed by the flame in his eyes, the steel in his voice. He said nothing, but pressed his own hand over the rough fingers cupping his cheek. "We could do it," Julan was saying. "We've done so much already, climbed so many mountains, what's one more? We've broken into Dwemer vaults, defeated great evils." His voice softened. "There's so much suffering. I know we can't fix everything, but we can't fix anything, unless we try. Don't you want to change things? You said you were too scared, but that's not true. You're the bravest person I know." Iriel's brow contracted in disbelief, but Julan smoothed it with his thumb. "You're scared all the time," he said, "and you do things anyway. So let's do this, Iya. I can be strong when I'm with you, and I know you can, too. Together, we can be strong enough." Ire stared at him a moment longer, then closed his eyes, giggling helplessly. "Gods," he gasped. "You almost had me! With that ridiculous romantic cliché! You just looked so... heroic, there, for a moment!" Julan's mouth pulled into an embarrassed half-smile. "It's funny," he said. "I grew up believing I had to be a hero, but I didn't know how. And now--" "Because real people aren't heroes!" Ire interrupted, a reckless gesture sending his pipe flying out of his hand. "Heroes are symbols, fictional characters! Even the ones based on real people probably bear no relation to who they actually were!" "I think you're wrong. I think it's like what you said about kindness. Being a hero is when you don't have to do something, when it's not your job, or your duty, or your responsibility, but you do it anyway. And even if you’re right, even if heroes are just symbols in stories... maybe Morrowind needs this story. Maybe the Nerevarine needs to be closer to the Ebon Crest than... whoever Indoril Nerevar really was, when he was alive." "I'm too fucking high for this. Or not high enough. What are you suggesting, exactly?" "Neither of us is Nerevar," Julan said slowly. "Because whatever happened to his soul, Nerevar was a certain person, at a certain time. He was unique." "Right, and he's dead! Gone, disappeared, body decayed to ashes and rot, memory dissolved into magic and void! Let him stay dead! Why can nobody be allowed to rest, in this country?" "Iya, just listen. We aren't Nerevar, but we don't need Nerevar. Morrowind needs the Nerevarine. The Nerevarine is a hero, but if you're right, and heroes aren't people, that means the Nerevarine doesn't need to be a person. At least... not one person. It doesn't matter who they are, if the story is what will be remembered. We could... do things that leave the right legend behind. We could create a Nerevarine." Iriel's expression could have tangled wool. "You make us sound like those horrible children in Ebonheart, with a fake corpse in a cart." "Hah! Maybe! I don't think either of us could do it alone. It's going to take both of us to push it." "You're... that's..." Iriel gave up on finding the right words. "Listen, love," he said. "You know I don't say things like this lightly. But you're completely insane." Rolling out of Julan's lap, he went hunting for his pipe, and stonewalled any attempt to return to the topic. As midnight came and went, Iriel lay on his side, watching the pale ash-ghosts of the driftwood crumble, and the embers fade. Julan was behind him, an arm curled around his waist. Without turning to see his face, Ire wasn't sure if he was still awake, but then the arm tightened, and Ire heard: "I brought the things you left at my mother's. We could sleep right here, it's not going to rain." Ire recognised the hidden itch in his voice and grinned. "Why don't I believe this has anything to do with sleeping?" "Well..." Julan pressed against him. "It's been too long. Feels like weeks since--" "Oh, so you've already forgotten about when Mamaea went out for marshmerrow, and I--" "Too long since I did something for you." "Ohhh, I'm so sorry!" Iriel squirmed in his grasp, enough to tease, but not to risk actually breaking free. "I forgot, it's all about yielding, isn't it? So competitive, so martial. You want to be the winner at sex, do you?" "I want you." "Never fuck on a beach, you said. Always a disaster, you said." "I've got a blanket, in my pack--" Julan broke off, laughing. "...not that it ever helps." He yanked Ire's hip towards him, rolling him onto his back. "D'you know how I know it's always a disaster?" He pushed up Ire's shirt and began kissing his belly, scraping teeth along soft skin that tautened as Ire arched his back. "Because," Julan said, indistinctly, "I always end up doing it anyway." Iriel was veering between giggles and moans. "Surely," he gasped, "things can't get too disastrous, with just hands and mouths?" Julan paused, halfway down Ire's buttons. "Say that again when I've got so much grit on my tongue, you feel like I'm sanding you down three sizes." "Don't worry, sweetheart. I'll just... hh... pretend you're a Khajiit." Later, swaddled in the blanket with Julan dozing against his shoulder, Iriel gazed up at the night sky again. "You know," he said dreamily, "some people believe that everyone has a soulmate. One person in all the world that is completely perfect for them, hearts joined in destiny by the stars. Romance novels are full of them." Julan stirred. "Mhmm?" "And... I want you to know, my love..." Iriel twined his fingers in loose strands of Julan's hair, escaping its braids across his collarbone. "...if yours ever shows up for you, I'm going to hit him with a rake. Or her, I won't be sexist about it. They're going to have to fucking fight me." A sleepy chuckle. "Thought you weren't the jealous type." "I'm not! But I am very selfish, and I was here first." "Uh huh. So what happens when yours turns up, then?" "Did I say I was selfish? I meant to say I'm very generous. You can share me." "Thanks. I'll keep that in mind." The night passed. The stars, whatever their qualities and influence, faded away, and the sun rose. Iriel shifted awake. His head was buried deep inside the blanket roll, but when he moved, he felt cold, clammy sand grind against his bare toes. Other things began to percolate. Racer-cries, the smell of woodsmoke, and a soft, scraping, clinking sound he couldn't identify. He sat up, fighting his head and shoulders clear of the blanket, eyes scrunched against the light. "Morning, love." Julan was sitting a short distance away, fully dressed and bent over something. "I dug out the kettle, so there's tea brewing." As his eyes adjusted, Iriel saw Julan had a set of small, redware bowls in front of him. One held water, freshly boiled, judging by the steam. The others were more mysterious. The one in Julan's hand contained a greasy, black paste, which he was stirring with a thin, bone-like implement. "When you're ready," he said, "I'm gonna need you to help me with something." Iriel mashed the heels of his hands into his eye sockets. "Help...?" Julan put down the pot, and took up a small, sharp knife, which had been resting in the water-bowl. "Yeah, I need you to hold my wrist steady for me. Stop the skin moving on this part of my forearm." "What?" Iriel blinked. "What are you doing with that knife? And what the fuck have you got in there?" "Ink! Well, ashes and shalk-oil, but I'm pretty sure this is the right mix." Frowning, Iriel leaned closer. "I thought I heard you discussing ink with Ulabael, last night." "Mm. He dropped by this morning, before he went to check his scrib-traps. Lent me his kit, told me the basics. You mark lines with the dagger, and dots with the awl, then rub ink into the wound, so it binds into the scar. Slowly, so you can't use healing spells." "Sweet Mara." Iriel watched in horrified fascination, as Julan rolled up his left sleeve and skimmed the fine hair off the back of his forearm with the blade. "You're really going to... wh..." Abruptly, he narrowed his eyes at Julan. "Is all this because you're still scared the Urshilaku might want to mark me, and then I'd have tattoos before you? Because I never agreed we were even going back, so--" "No! ...OK, maybe. But only a little. It's almost completely not about that." "I see. So... what are you going to... mark?" Julan picked up the bone-thing Iriel supposed must be the awl, and washed it off in the water. "I was thinking... sort of an arrowhead design. Kind of like a hunt-band mark, representing a bond between people who've fought and killed together. I don't have a hunt-band, but... I have you. I want to mark it." "I don't want you to define our bond by who we've killed together!" Iriel's face was such a picture of distress that Julan almost laughed. "It's not really about that!" he said. "It's more about... I dunno... success and failure. Mistakes, too, and guilt. Shared blood and spilled, and bearing the consequences." "Is that a real Ashlander thing, or did you just make all that up?" "I'm a real Ashlander, so if I made it up, it's a real Ashlander thing." "You don't need to make your own up, now. You'll have proper ones, someday." "I know. That's why I want this one to be first." "Wait, so... shouldn't I have one too?" "Well... only if you want. I know you hate pain, so I wasn't going to--" "Of course I fucking do, stop coddling me." "OK." "I'll scream and cry, but you have to ignore me." "OK." next: 194: dusk previous: 192: living beginning: 1: numb

#howtodisappearcompletely #it's the obligatory Beach Episode!!!

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nell85h-blog · 5 years ago

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foodrecipes2019 · 7 years ago

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SPAGHETTI SQUASH WITH BASIL-PARSLEY PESTO AND SAUTÉED SHRIMP

Spaghetti squash with sauteed shrimp and basil-parsley pesto makes for an nutrient-packed low-carb paleo-friendly dinner that happens to also be Whole30 compliant!

Truth: I’ve been roasting winter squash for weeks.

Behind the scenes, there has been a whole lot of preheating to 400, chopping, scooping, roasting, squash in my hair, on my spoon, in my coffee, in, on, around my pancakes and brownies.

Just kidding. I haven’t been making brownies lately.

While I wish summer fruit and veggies were available year-round, I can’t help but feel giddy when butternut, spaghetti, and kabocha squash wriggle their way into the produce section.

I could really just live on it.

I’ve kiiiind of been living on it.

It’s all I’ve eaten for 2 days.

I’ve been sitting on this here recipe for weeks and I just can’t stand it any longer. Spaghetti squash is one of my favorite squaaarshes because it makes me feel like I’m eating pasta, even though I’m not – I’m eating squash.

I whipped up a batch of basil-parsley pesto, sautéed some shrimp, and whamity slamity calamity Jane, what a glorious meal was made.

I know. My spaghetti strands are unimpressive. We can’t win at all the things.

During my squash-roasting fests, I’ve been thinking, “Wow, Julia, it’s an ace move to get a jump-start on winter produce in the ol’ blogisphere.”

Like I’m the oooooonly blogger in the wooooooorld who thought of doing so. Mmmhmm. Take one look at pinterest. #Squashfordays. Pumpkin? Foooogeddaboudit. Our squash love tank is full.

Get a load of this:

Look at that steam shot! I want to live in this bowl.

Preparation and cooking for this meal is a cinch. All it requires is a baking sheet for roasting the squash and one large saute pan. I sauteed the shrimp in my Le Creuset 3-Quart Stainless Steel Saute Pan (which holds sooooo muuuuuch fooooood, GAH I love it!).

Once the shrimps were cooked and the spaghetti squash was spaghettied, I added the pesto squash and the roasted spaghetti squash to the saute pan and heated everything together. I served it all up with fresh squeezed lemon and pine nuts. You can totes grate up some parmesan cheese, too!

Get a jump-start on winter squash season. Put it in all the places. Except your brownies.

Over and out.

SPAGHETTI SQUASH WITH BASIL-PARSLEY PESTO AND SAUTÉED SHRIMP

COURSE: MAIN COURSE

PREP TIME: 15 MINUTES

COOK TIME: 50 MINUTES

TOTAL TIME: 1 HOUR 5 MINUTES

AUTHOR: JULIA

INGREDIENTS

1 (4-pound) spaghetti squash

1 to 2 tablespoons avocado oilsee note*

Salt and pepper

BASIL-PARSLEY PESTO SAUCE:

½ cup tightly packed basil leaves

½ cup tightly packed parsley leaves

2 cloves garlic minced

1/3 cup pine nuts

¼ teaspoon sea salt or to taste

½ cup avoocado oil see note*

FOR THE SHRIMP:

1 pound raw shrimp peeled and deveined

2 tablespoons avocado oil see note*

3 cloves garlic minced

FOR SERVING:

Pine nuts

Lemon wedges

INSTRUCTIONS

ROAST THE SPAGHETTI SQUASH:

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees F.

Chop the tip and the tail off of the spaghetti squash, and stand the squash up-right on a cutting board. Carefully cut the squash in half length-wise - gravity will help you chop from top to bottom.

Use a spoon to scoop the seeds out of each of the halves.

Rub about a tablespoon of olive oil over the flesh of each half. Sprinkle generously with salt and pepper.

Place both halves cut-side down on a baking sheet.

Roast the squash for 45 to 50 minutes or until the flesh is tender. Remove from oven and allow squash to cool about 10 minutes.

When the squash is cool enough to handle, use a fork to gently scrape the flesh, releasing spaghetti-like stands. Do this until both halves of the spaghetti squash are scraped clean and place the “spaghetti” into a large serving bowl and set aside.

PREPARE THE BASIL-PARSLEY PESTO SAUCE:

Add all ingredients for the pesto sauce to a small blender (or food processor) and blend until it reaches desired consistency. I blended mine until smooth.

SAUTÉ THE SHRIMP:

In a large skillet, heat the oil to medium.

Carefully place the shrimp on the hot skillet, and add the garlic.

Allow shrimp to cook until it begins to plump and turn pink, about 1 to 2 minutes.

Flip shrimp to the other side and allow it to cook an additional 1 to 2 minutes, or until cooked through.

Lower the heat to medium-low, and add the pesto sauce and prepared spaghetti squash. Fold everything together and cook until everything is hot.

Serve heaping portions with pine nuts, fresh lemon wedges, and grated parmesan cheese.

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robertkstone · 7 years ago

Text

Subaru Crosstrek 2.0i Limited First Test

There’s long been a warm honesty to Subaru vehicles. They’re not flashy and not always pretty, but they will nevertheless quietly and convincingly take you places few other crossovers can manage and will keep taking you there year after year. The 2018 Subaru Crosstrek is no exception.

Built on the global platform that also underpins the latest Impreza, Subaru claims 90 percent of the new Crosstrek is all-new, though much seems instantly familiar. Slide in behind the wheel, thumb the starter button—or twist the old-school key if you’re in one of the entry-level models—and the engine thrums into life, quickly setting down into that distinctive throbby idle. Yep, it’s a Subaru …

Under the hood is, of course, a flat-four engine that, naturally, drives all four wheels all the time. The 2018 Crosstrek’s exterior has been totally redesigned but in a way that has kept the essential character of the previous model, albeit with a touch more flair and sophistication. Same with the revamped interior, which is remarkable for the amount of rear-seat legroom in a vehicle that has essentially the same footprint as a VW Golf or Ford Focus.

The 2.0i Limited is the top of the Crosstrek line. Base price is $26,295, and for that you get a CVT transmission with a seven-speed manual mode and paddle shifters, leather trimmed seats, automatic climate control, a six-way power driver’s seat, 18-inch alloys with 225/55 all-season tires, and Subaru’s suite of Starlink multimedia and connected services, including Apple Carplay. Our tester was equipped with $3,445 worth of options, most notably Subaru’s Eyesight system, which bundles together adaptive cruise control, lane keeping assist, and precollision braking and throttle control. Other options fitted included a moonroof, sat-nav, and a Harmon Kardon audio system.

For just $30,655, the fully loaded Crosstrek 2.0i Limited looks like a helluva value. Feels it, too, the moment you take it out of your driveway.

It might have 8.7 inches of ground clearance and the off-road chops to embarrass all but Jeeps and Land Rovers and the occasional Toyota, but the little Subaru rolls down the road with the quiet comfort and dignified composure of a mini luxury car. The ride is exceptional for a vehicle this size, the long travel suspension calmly damping body motions while ably suppressing impact harshness where the rubber meets the road.

More importantly, though, it doesn’t all turn to mush when you point the Crosstrek down a winding two lane, though the Falken Ziex tires on the 18-inch rims don’t deliver the same consistency of feel through the steering as the Yokohama Geolanders fitted to cars with 17-inch wheels. Understand that the tires will run out of grip before the chassis runs out of talent, and the Crosstrek can be hustled from A to B with surprising pace. Well, as long as you’re driving downhill …

The reason? A chronic lack of torque. The revamped naturally aspirated 2.0-liter boxer-four now features direct injection and makes 152 hp at 6,000 rpm. But peak torque is just 145 lb-ft, and it only arrives at a buzzy 4,000 rpm. Although a smooth and willing worker, the engine simply doesn’t deliver the grunt the Crosstrek needs. Although quicker to 60 mph than the previous model, the new Crosstrek’s performance in real world, everyday driving—up hills and while merging on to freeways in particular—is, frankly, marginal.

What’s more, as our road test editor Chris Walton discovered during back-to-back track testing of both manual and CVT equipped Crosstreks, opting for the six-speed stick shift doesn’t really solve the problem. “The gaps between the ratios in the manual transmission do the Crosstrek no favors,” he says. “The only reason it’s quicker to 60 mph than the CVT is because I found 0.7 second in the launch, and that lead quickly diminishes to 0.2 second over the quarter mile.” Walton actually preferred the CVT for its ability to better distribute what precious power and torque was available and for its smoothness and responsiveness when used with the paddle shifters.

As you’d expect of a Subaru, the Crosstrek feels right at home off the tarmac. It lopes along bumpy dirt roads, and all that ground clearance is useful when crawling across the rougher stuff. The X-mode feature, which sets the front/rear torque split to 50/50 and activates a screen that shows information such as steering angle and an inclinometer, delivers an intuitive hill-descent control mode that allows you to adjust downhill crawl speeds with the throttle. And the system automatically disengages above 25 mph.

Subaru’s twin-camera Eyesight system offers good functionality, especially at the price. With the adaptive cruise control and lane keeping assist engaged, graphics on the upper center stack show you what the system. Two caveats: The lack of torque and the CVT transmission flummox the cruise control at times, even on uphill stretches, where overcompensating for engine speed and transmission response means the Crosstrek will exceed the set speed. And the lane keep assist isn’t as smooth as some systems.

The 2018 Subaru Crosstrek 2.0i Limited is capable and dependable, ready to go wherever you want to go, to enable you to do whatever you want to do—your BFF on wheels. It’s an endearing little crossover that’s just a few lb-ft away from greatness.

2018 Subaru Crosstrek 2.0i (Limited) BASE PRICE/TESTED PRICE $27,210/$30,655 DRIVETRAIN Front-engine, AWD, 5-pass, 4-door SUV ENGINE 2.0L/152-hp/145-lb-ft DOHC 16-valve flat-4 TRANSMISSION Cont variable auto CURB WEIGHT (F/R DIST) 3,284 lb (59/41%) WHEELBASE 104.9 in LENGTH x WIDTH x HEIGHT 175.8 x 71.0 x 62.6 in 0-60 MPH 9.0 sec QUARTER MILE 16.9 sec @ 80.8 mph BRAKING, 60-0 MPH 131 ft LATERAL ACCELERATION 0.80 g (avg) MT FIGURE EIGHT 28.4 sec @ 0.58 g (avg) EPA CITY/HWY/COMB FUEL ECON 27/33/29 mpg ENERGY CONS, CITY/HWY 125/102 kW-hrs/100 miles CO2 EMISSIONS, COMB 0.66 lb/mile

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