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#also i cut it short which made it much easier and is so convenient and fun too :)
guinevereslancelot · 2 years
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besties i am dying my hair wish me luck
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gracefullysaint · 2 years
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I think it’s really interesting how a lot of things that talk about taking a break from your phone or not being so reliant on your phone don’t talk about replacing the function of phones. Like for example, I recently got a basic wrist watch that was easy to tell the time on for me. When I got that and started wearing it every day, I instantly found it a lot easier to not be on my phone as much. I had gotten used to needing to check my phone to see the time, which often led to me getting distracted on my phone as well.
I’ve also been able to start using my phone less when I started carrying around a small notebook and pen. I like being able to quickly write down my ideas and thoughts, and I used to just pull out my phone and write it in my notes app or text it to someone, but when a pen and paper is just as convenient, I didn’t feel the need to always have my phone on hand in case I wanted to write something down.
I still use my phone more than I would like to, but I want to get a way to listen to music without needing to open my phone, maybe a cassette player or something like that. I found out how to use the Libby app through my library to get a bunch of ebooks to read on my kindle, instead of trying to entertain myself with reading posts or things on my phone.
And it’s just made me think about people who can’t seem to get away from their phones, or young kids having phones. There are certain functions that most people need in order to be functional. People need to be able to check the time, people need to be able to write things down, people like listening to music or podcasts, and communicating with people when they need it. Most people nowadays fill all of those functions with one tool- a phone- but a phone isn’t the only thing that does those things. I really wonder if a lot of phone-reliance could be alleviated by just being aware of what we use our phones for. If you use your phone to listen to music or read things, there are other ways to fulfill that same need. If you use your phone to check the time or write down important info, there are other ways to do that. But if you try to cold Turkey cut yourself off from your phone, even for short amounts of time, without finding alternatives to the tools your phone contains, you’re gonna have a really rough time.
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mad3ofstardust · 3 months
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Powdered Sugar
OPM goes romcom: Christmas innuendo edition. What's with Tatsumaki and cakes?
read on AO3
https://archiveofourown.org/works/52398622
She had decided.
Well, the truth is that she had been partially "convinced" by her sister and inspired by the cheerful and warm aura of the time of the year (and a TV show). With that concern, it had become a compromise now, and Tatsumaki wouldn’t back down from one.
Now she was maxing up her focus while on the last steps of performing a task she once thought unfeasible for her disastrous self. A cake. She, who even with the strongest psychokinetic abilities burned simple eggs (together with the poor frying pan) and raised herself and her sister on frozen microwave food and convenience store meals, had decided to bake a cake.
Not just any cake.
A Christmas cake.
Which she had cheated a bit and bought the premade dough but still, it was a big deal for her, after all, it was her first time. She’d have to mix everything up, whisk some eggs, cut the strawberries, bake, prepare the whipped cream to go inside and outside the entire thing and then assemble it all. Some steps seemed easier and she made sure to buy two baking pans and the best ingredients for a greater outcome, but the most important ingredient of all didn’t have a price and would come from inside herself. As funny and ridiculous as it might sound.
This ingredient was her love.
To Tatsumaki, admitting she was in love with Saitama had been a process as difficult as following the instructions for this cake, given she still shuddered when remembering the moment when realization had hit her. However, everything became a little easier and lighter after that, her social interactions, real personality and overall mental state finally started to flourish. Like the sky clearing up after the rain, he was like therapy to her and she was just…happy. Truly happy, for once. 
But why now?
After their fight, they had a couple of talks and quickly became friends, and recently, they had become even closer. Whenever they met, they had amusing, deep conversations and spent a lot of time together, which made Tatsumaki feel like he was someone she could trust in a different way than she did with her sister. Everything with him felt different, even as a friend. How could someone make her feel grounded and free at the same time? It wasn’t long until she realized the feelings she was harboring for him were indeed romantic. 
Feelings she never felt before started consuming her small self so much it leaked out of her, being noticeable to other people, including, of course, Fubuki. Her sister felt it from her, but also saw how different she looked, the perpetual silly look on her relaxed face and how she seemed to be at peace and more in tune with the world. Having their bond improved recently was a blessing, so they could talk about that, like any normal pair of siblings would, and perhaps by a twist of fate, they happened to have had one of these talks just a week before Christmas. 
...
Fubuki had the epiphany while they finished their dinner at a restaurant. “You know what? Christmas is next week…Why don’t you invite Saitama to do something fun or ask him out?” The abruptness of her affirmation almost made Tatsumaki choke on her drink. She loved the idea. Her heartbeat accelerated with the thought of spending time with him in a cozy restaurant or sitting next to each other by a fire was amusingly inviting, but it was crazy. How could she invite Saitama out on such a romantic occasion while having only ever been on friendly hangouts without it being the most awkward thing ever? Her daydream was cut short with a sad sigh. “Sister, that would be lovely but…I’ve never been in such a situation before…I don’t even know how to start…”
She took a long sip out of her straw. That was hard. Fubuki wanted to help, but to be honest, Saitama was also still a mystery on the matter. He was a little distant and apathetic, only seeming to cheer up in a different way around Tatsumaki, so she had high hopes he wouldn’t reject any invitation coming from her. She thought about something to suggest while unpretentiously fiddling with the restaurant’s menu. “Dinner!” That was it, the most simple suggestion. “Invite him to eat out, that’s it. It doesn’t need to be a commotion, you’ve eaten together before, right?” Tatsumaki blinked, taking the menu herself and flipping the pages. “We did…more than once, but…we were just hungry and ate at random cheap establishments, no big deal.”
“So now you go and invite him to somewhere nice, maybe?” Saitama didn’t seem like the type. Could the promise of warm tasty food in a cozy restaurant just like the one they were in now entice him to the point of being considered romantic? Tatsumaki wasn’t quite sure yet. Fubuki continued, taking another sip of her drink, a mischievous look installed on her eyes. “If you say you’re paying, it can even be considered a gift...Or…” The look in her eyes turned evil, but Tatsumaki wasn’t paying attention, seeming enticed by the desserts section of the menu. “You could be the gift.”
The menu crumpled into a thin line, and several chairs of the restaurant went into the air, along with Tatsumaki’s desire for dessert at that moment. “FUBUKI!!!“ While her face reddened like a candy apple, Fubuki couldn’t stop laughing. “Yeah, just do it. Wrap yourself up and make him unwrap you.” Oh, how she wished they weren’t in a public place right now. Her sister would meet her end. “Stop giggling.” Which only made Fubuki laugh harder, making Tatsumaki hide her face with her hands in embarrassment. “You know what?” She has had enough. “I might just do it.” Fubuki stopped laughing immediately, a dumbfounded expression decorating her obviously tipsy face. “So you better take your girlfriend out on Christmas night. Don’t be home, unless you wanna see a show.” With another idea in mind, she flew, leaving Fubuki to pay for dinner as a punishment.
...
What could be something that could convey how much a person appreciated another other than a handmade gift? After all, actions spoke louder than words. Considering this, Tatsumaki felt like more than an invitation to go out or dinner, a present, made by her own hands, would be more meaningful to him. Even if Saitama, in the end, didn’t interpret it as a romantic action, he’d still like it. They talked about her past before so he knew about her difficulties in some aspects of life, given her traumatic and sad upbringing and that included manufacturing stuff.  She was sure he would appreciate whatever she made. But with a week left and no manual skills whatsoever, what could she learn how to make and be good enough to give him?
Over the course of the week, Tatsumaki researched and evaluated her options, however, it was all too explicitly romantic or seemed unlikely that he’d enjoy, and to make it even worse everything she thought of ended up being too much of a hassle or impossible to learn in such a short term. She was definitely going to value stuff more after seeing how elaborate everything around her seemed to be. From clothing items to ceramics, candles, painting. Crafting and creating things was hard.
Her heart sank a little bit. Tatsumaki slumped on her couch and pouted in annoyance, turning the TV on. If there was a lesson she could learn from all this, it was that she needed better hobbies. So did Saitama apparently. “I can’t believe I’m actually going to have to give him video games, as probably everyone else will…” Her plans seemed to go down the drain and she sure felt drained, impatience consuming her mind. 
The TV seemed to want to mock her even further, with absolutely nothing good on any channel. “Fuck this, I’m just gonna sleep.” Laying down and closing her eyes, she massaged her temples a bit before turning on her side facing the offending device, and to her surprise, she saw cakes. “Oh, something actually interesting on this channel?” She only hoped watching that wouldn’t make her feel like eating cake so late. The show was some kind of competition, with every episode having a different theme and tonight was Christmas.
“Contestants, in light of the holidays, you were asked to prepare our famous Christmas cake! Now, each time has fifteen minutes left to complete and serve to us judges.”
“Remember, the cakes must honor the tradition and contain at least one fruit and three layers! Don’t forget to preheat the oven! We don’t want to eat any raw cake!
“Attention to the recipe, the cakes need to be light and balanced! Let it cool before adding the frosting!”
Whoa. Those judges seemed harsh. She’d never get why people liked to go to these kinds of shows to be tortured like this, it must be all staged or something. 
Even with all the cringe, Tatsumaki ended up not sleeping and watched the entire thing. Watching every team do the steps and putting the cakes together was actually pretty fun and even with being a dessert lover, she never tried baking one. She was just bad at anything kitchen related and didn’t want to risk destroying the kitchen, even when she was younger, and then, being an S-Class gave some privileges so she just bought everything. But now…it seemed like a perfect gift, for some reason. To make it even better, it could be something two people could enjoy together, and she wanted to try.
Even with all the anxiety, the green haired esper slept nicely that night, finally deciding on something. Tomorrow, she’d buy what she needed and then ask him to come over. An innocent get together, nothing else.
...
Somehow it worked.
She managed to bake the thing without burning it, or undercooking. Before her very eyes, a nicely shaped, evenly colored sponge cake stood proud, waiting to be cooled off before getting sliced in half. Seeing this, Tatsumaki couldn’t believe it. Things were indeed different now, then? With watered eyes, she cut a little piece from the side to test the taste and texture, after all, it was too good to be true and if  even if it tasted bad, maybe she could try another time before giving up.
To her wonder and amazement, it tasted good. It was an actual thing she made and ended up okay, who cared if it was premade dough? It was a start, a Christmas miracle, maybe? But the shock was so big the tears fell, and she covered her mouth in awe. This thing, a silly little thing, gave her such fulfillment that if Saitama decided to knock on her door now she might just kiss him. Twirling in the air from excitement, the woman almost forgot about the whipping cream, which she decided not to get the store bought simply because she disliked the texture.
It was okay, she celebrated her first victory and now Tatsumaki had to focus and just stay calm and follow the recipe. First, one cup of heavy cream-
“BEEP!” 
“Fuck!”
It was just a text notification, not the important kind. The monster notification sound was another type of beep anyway. It didn’t stop heavy cream from being sent flying to the ceiling. Good thing she had more. “Breathe. Just focus.”
“BEEP!” What the fuck? “I’m gonna kill whoever is texting me now.”
Except she wouldn’t. It was Saitama. 
Tatsumaki almost fainted. 
>You busy? 
Oh God. Oh Shit. Not now. What did he want? Not now, she wasn’t ready. 
“Okay, okay, okay. Just breathe.” This habit of repeating mantras to herself was also new. It was a good sign he was contacting her, she should be happy considering she planned to give the cake, but still wasn’t sure on how to ask him to visit her. “Compose yourself, Tatsumaki. Seize this opportunity. Start with a little sass”
<Hi. Merry Christmas to you too Baldy🙄  A little busy, why?
The cream fell from the ceiling with a plop on the floor.
>Ah, sorry…New restaurant opened up. They have Christmas discounts and it’s close to your place. Let’s check it out, it’s fried 🐔🍗🍗🍗
Was he…asking her out? Tatsumaki knew Saitama was a little dense, but she was pretty sure he knew what that meant for two people to go out together on such a day. Was the opportunity she wanted just going to be given like that? 
<Sure.
>Gooooood. will send the location, see you in 15. Is that okay?
It was okay, She wanted to scream…it was actually happening, it could only be a dream. The fact the cake was a success and he had been the one to actually call her made Tatsumaki feel more confident about the entire thing. The whipped cream would have to stay for later.
<Perfect, cya.
...
Pulling the hood of her coat on, she flew until spotting the location, then decided to walk until she found Saitama. It would be a little weird to see someone coming flying and recognizing them as a famous hero while in the middle of your Christmas day date. Date . Her brain was still having trouble assimilating it. 
The fried chicken place was crowded and made her nervous, one of the ups and downs of being a public person. She needed to find him before the nervousness overcame her confidence, it should be easy to locate his bald head. 
Saitama was in the line already, and she dashed over to him with a spring in her step, clearly not knowing how to deal with the excess giddiness. He soon spotted her skipping towards him, fluffy hood and booties on, and couldn’t help but smile, she was the cutest thing ever. He also couldn’t stop pulling her into a hug, lifting her a little off the ground, something he always did whenever they met. She was prepared and even longed for it now, but it took her off guard during the first times, her not being used to physical touching at all. Turned out the hero was a super hugger and his hugs were always the highlight of her days.
However, it felt different this time, their surroundings being full of couples doing the same, she quickly realized upon looking around them while hugging him back, arms around his shoulders. “Merry Christmas.” The smile seemed to have been permanently installed on his face. Tatsumaki smiled too, sliding back down so her feet touched the floor. “Ah, now you say it.” She would maintain the sass for as long as she could. Their turn to order finally arrived and to her surprise, Saitama paid for everything. “Well, I was the one who made the invitation.” He argumented, leaving her to pout.
They got their food and drinks and sat down at a bench at the park, chatting and observing the decorations. It was still early to properly enjoy the lights, but they did feel the warmth bubbling from seeing kids playing in the snow and the entire athmosphere, never noticing how close they were sitting, shoulders touching. The fried chicken was good, very crunchy on the outside and moist on the inside, the sauces were also pretty good, still everything was a bit too salty, which made her face twist a little in every bite, to his amusement. Though he also felt it was too much, he finished his pieces anyway. “We’re probably gonna need more to drink with this.” That felt like her cue to tell him about the cake.
“Let’s go back to my place, I have a cake, it should balance all this salt.” And should be warmer too, despite enjoying being cozy with him, she was sure she could feel even cozier at her apartment. “Sounds good.” Saitama looked at her with a different look on his face, one that she couldn’t interpret well, so she just stared back at him, blinking. Oh. Inviting a man to her apartment had some connotations…and night time was approaching. Was he thinking about that? It could turn out very awkward and she would be having none of that so Tatsumaki needed to say something fast. “I made it. The cake.” 
He raised his eyebrows. “You?”
“Yeah!” Why was he looking genuinely so confused?
“But you said you don’t cook. Or bake.” She twirled a strand of hair on her finger, thinking she couldn’t just say what really went on that week and all about giving him a present to confess her feelings. “Well, I bake now. It’s a…new hobby of mine…”
“Good!” He smiled again at her, so pure and charming she almost glitched. “This makes me happy.” She might as well have become snow and melted right now, he was simply so sweet and made her so warm inside…Tatsumaki needed to regain her focus. “I only need to assemble and do the finishing touches…We…Could do it together, what do you think? Could be fun.”
“Ok.”
“Good.”
“Maybe we should go now.” She floated the leftovers and packages over to a nearby trash can, and got up, Saitama following and offering his hand to her.
Her eyes widened, were they gonna hold hands? “Let’s walk?” The darkening sky was  beautiful, and they could appreciate it better by waking. She took his hand and nodded, trying to find words and simply failing at that moment. While they hugged quite often, they never held hands before and it seemed that her suspicions about Saitama actually knowing what such social cues meant were getting confirmed. Had he been actually trying to acknowledge his feelings as well?
His hand’s grip was soft on hers, but firm at the same time, heat seeping through the fabric of the gloves. It was all she needed and she wasn’t sure she’d be able to live without the touch of his hand anymore if anything went wrong.
...
They were finally at her apartment and she had placed the cake on one side at the counter and a dish to make the whipped cream on the other. Saitama looked puzzled, not knowing how to proceed.
“Are you ready to see the magic?” Confused, but interested, he could only nod. Then, she sliced the sponge cake in two perfect halves in less than a second right in front of his eyes. “Yes!” He looked impressed, but she wasn’t finished yet. Too soon to celebrate. Tatsumaki got an additional bowl and took the rest of the ingredients off the fridge, placing them on the counter as well. 
Now it was the time to focus, she couldn’t whisk it too much or it would lose the texture and become butter and with her set of skills should be simple. However, she didn’t plan on having a set of eyes observing her. Taking a deep breath, she started mixing them up, tips from the instructional cooking video replaying in her mind
“Set your mixer to medium high speed.” Except Tatsumaki had no blender or mixer and was using her powers to control the whisker. It should do.
“Don’t take your eyes off the cream.” The entire thing could be overly whipped and go bad in a matter of seconds if she didn’t pay attention.
“Check the consistency and the formation of peaks.” The presence of such peaks would indicate the success of the recipe.
So this was it. She lifted the whisk and saw the peaks. They were perfect. Now the taste…
She lifted a finger and sampled a bit. It was perfect, so delicious she could cry, but she wouldn’t celebrate it yet. Saitama was still looking at the dish intently, eyes sparkling as if watching some kind of dramatic game. “Can I try some?” He looked like a lost puppy, the esper almost gave in. “Not yet” She lifted another finger and some of the strawberries were cut in half. “Whoa…” Sometimes he reacted to her powers like it was the coolest thing he’d ever seen and it was adorable. Well, she did say to Fubuki she’d put on a show.
Now for the final part. Using her powers, she assembled the cake, laid half the sponge, spread half of the cream inside, and threw some sliced strawberries in the white filling. Then, she placed the other half of the sponge cake, topping it all with remaining whipped cream and finished with some of the intact strawberries on top of it all. She wanted to do some sort of decoration, but that would have to do it for tonight. “Et voilá!” She bowed a little reverence and of course, he softly applauded. “That was so cool to watch, Tatsu.” Taking his phone out of his pocket, he took several pics of the cake and some of her holding it. she couldn’t help but pose a little, being so proud of her deed. She herself took some pics before she could finally say it.
“Merry Christmas, Baldy. This is your present.” She looked away, cheeks red.
“Oh! For me?” He couldn’t believe it, face softened. To him, it was really special. “Tatsu, that’s…You learned baking…for me?”
Her eyes made contact with him again. “Yeah, I’m not good at making things but I just…I wanted to give you something special, made by me…You can…try it now.” She put a knife, a fork and a plate for him, anxiety levels to the max. Little did she know his heart was speeding up too.
Tatsumaki watched in a daze as he grabbed the knife and cut a perfect slice. The shades of creamy white and beige with specks of red visible in a clear layering, she’s done a really good job. “Wait, this is my present right?”
His voice brought her back to reality. “Yeah, why?” 
“Can you give me another fork?” She complied, handling him the item, but put it back in her hand, his touch almost sending electricity through all of her body. Trapping her hand with both of his now. “So I’m sharing with you, then. Let’s try it together, okay?” She was so warm now it barely seemed like it was still winter. They both shared that first slice, delighting in the soft textures and flavors of such a light cake. Outside, snow kept falling and painting the top of the buildings white.
After eating almost half of it, they sat on her couch, watching the next episode of the cooking competition that inspired her, giggling at the judges' antics while surfing their sugar high. On the show, a contestant had just dropped her dish, causing both Saitama and Tatsumaki to be in distress. “Oh no…What now, can she make another?” The green haired esper brought her feet on the couch, curling her legs.
Saitama, who had his arms open along the backrest of the couch, seemed to be barely paying attention to the TV now. “I don’t think so, she doesn’t have enough time”.
“Ahhh, that’s too bad.” She scooted closer to him, wanting to feel more of his heat. Noticing it, he closed one of his arms around her and looked at her, grinning slightly, hand resting at one of her shoulders. “You have…cream on your face.” With his eyes soft, he brought his opposite hand near her mouth and faintly dragged a finger on her top lip while wiping it. It was so intimate, being basically inside his embrace while he touched her like that, so lightly, like she was made of porcelain he was afraid to break.
Tatsumaki wanted to say something. Confessing was the main reason she had done all of that, but words never came. She could only look into his eyes, lost in this comfort only he seemed to give her. His hand resting on her cheek made her relax, she, at moment, lost all insecurities and anxiety she might have had once about them.
Under the strength of the way he gazed at her, she knew he felt the same.
Slowly, one of her hands came to rest on his cheek as well, and the distance between them, that wasn’t much to begin with, lessened by each second. 
Neither could identify who made the final move, perhaps both moved at the same time, until at last, their whipped cream smeared lips touched. Actions did speak louder than words, so them both saying nothing and instead choosing to act indeed did them some good.
With the sweet taste of the cake they both had prior, the kiss deepened. Saitama’s hand moved to her hair, messing it up, and the other found her waist, moving her closer to him. Her arms brought him even closer by the neck and they kept being captivated by each other, finally able to express their desire, desperate for warmth in that cold night. What had been growing between them finally snapped and in that moment, causing both to feet like they wouldn’t get tired nor out of breath, Love being the only fuel they needed. The kiss continued growing hotter and the sound of muffled puffs of breath and soft whimpers cradled them like a song.
Both of their tongues battled inside the kiss, them half laying on the couch half leaning on each other, her hands traveling up and down, from his chest to his neck while his caressed her back and waist, messed up her green curls, feeling up her in a firmly and  little possessive manner, until Saitama dared to break it for a minute, barely able to open his foggy eyes, filled with adoration. “I’m sorry I didn’t get you anything.” Whispering against her neck before kissing the skin there so very softly. He was really silly to think like this, she chuckled, eyes taking a playful glint, despite the shiver that ran up her spine. She was really enjoying the wetness of his lips and warm breath on her neck “Who said you didn’t get me anything? You’re my gift.” 
Smiling brightly and chuckling at the corniness of the affirmation, he pulled her to him for another kiss and Tatsumaki crawled into his lap, feeling bold. Neither cared much about Christmas before, but that was sure going to be memorized eternally for them. 
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bealex · 2 years
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Hi there! I’m super excited to finally be able to get plotting with everyone! This here is KIM ALEX, a 19 year old studying Dance Performance at K-Arts. He also works two jobs alongside studying (Starbucks barista and convenience store employee), so he’s a pretty busy bee. He’s a very adventurous guy, and thinks life’s too short not to try everything, so naturally he’s a bit of a mess sometimes. You can find his profile here (★), and his history here (★). I’ll leave some general info and  plot ideas under the cut, but if you’d like to plot please like this post and I’ll send you a message! I also have a discord upon request!
—INFO!
Alex was born in Melbourne, Australia and moved to Seoul when he was 15
[ Unbeknownst to Alex ] He has half sibling(s) on his dad’s side, as when Alex was conceived his dad had a pregnant wife back home
He grew up very poor, so now is pretty money conscious—he will treat his friends a lot, but won’t necessarily buy himself something he needs
He lives in Dongdaemun-gu in a two bed apartment with a roommate, however he rarely invites anyone over (unless he’s very close to them) because he’s always too busy to tidy his bedroom and he’s ashamed of it
He went to Korea International School from 2018-2021 to help him transition to life in Korea easier (plus his Korean was pretty rough back then)
His teen years were full of ‘experiences’—he wanted to try it all, which included underage drinking and smoking, staying out late and getting into some mild mischief
Luckily he never got himself into any real trouble but he didn’t do so well grade-wise (unless it was in something artsy or sporty)
He partook in a wide range of extracurriculars in school—sports clubs, dance, choir, learnt the guitar and piano—you name it, he’s done it at one point
He hates to sit still and have too much time to think, that’s when his peppy personality gets sucked up by the vacuum of existential dread surrounding life, career, money and the fact he’s not slept for more than 5 hours a night since he was a child
You’d never really know he was struggling with all that he’s piled onto his plate though, as he’s always very upbeat and positive, and pretty easy-going with most people, plus he doesn’t like to talk about his problems—that is unless you’re a very close friend of his
Currently he’s working, studying, and trying his best to fit in time for friends around all of it (while also keeping an eye out for opportunities that might lead him down the career path he’s aiming for—being an idol)
—CONNECTIONS!
FRIENDS! he’s a huge social butterfly and will befriend anyone—he’s the type to make friends with his friends friends cousins girlfriends dog, so he could really know anyone tbh 
Or enemies! While Alex typically likes most people, he’s got an issue with people who seem to have it all, or have easy lives, and yet still complain about it, or seem ungrateful—money (and those who have a lot of it) is a touchy subject for him
University connections—while he’s in the dance department, he’s 100% got friends in every single department
A roommate! Alex is comfortable money-wise, so he doesn’t live in a dodgy, mouldy apartment, but he does need someone to halve the rent with, so if you’re looking for a generous and considerate roommate, he’s your guy (just don’t look in his room at the end of a busy week pls, he’s not liable for what you may see if you do)
Someone who knew him when he was younger, whether it be a school organised pen pal, a family friend of some kind, or even someone he met online when he finally got access to the scary world of the internet
Romance—someone he had a crush on in the past, or someone who had a crush on him, maybe. Maybe even someone he’s got a trivial crush on right now! Thing is he’s horribly oblivious and even if your muse liked him/liked him back and made a move he’d never know. He’d need it spelled out with a whole ‘promise I’m not joking’ on the end
Someone he used to/still does go drinking with/goes on wild adventures with and gets into rather silly situations with (but creates incredible memories with at the same time)
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thedisneychef · 10 months
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Are Overnight Oats Recipes Healthy and Easy to Make?
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Hey everyone! I'm here to talk about overnight oats recipes. If you're looking for a delicious breakfast that's easy to make and packed with nutrients, then this is the recipe for you. Overnight oats are super convenient as they require little prep time and can be made ahead of time - perfect if you're short on time in the morning. In this article, I'll give an overview of what they are and why they're so great. Let's get started! Maybe You Also Like: - Are Recipe Boxes Worth It? Exploring Meal Subscription Services - Are Recipes Copyrighted Or Patented - Are Recipes For Making Proteins What Are Overnight Oats? I'm sure you've heard of overnight oats by now, but do you know what they are? Well, let me tell you! Overnight oats is a quick and easy breakfast that's made the night before. All you need to do is measure out your favorite rolled oats with some liquid, like milk or yogurt, along with any added ingredients like fruit or nuts. You mix it up and leave it in the fridge overnight so all the flavors can come together for an amazing morning meal. The great thing about overnight oats is that you can customize them however you'd like - just add whatever toppings you love best! Maybe some fresh berries on top or crunchy almonds? The possibilities are endless! And don't worry if you're not sure how much of each ingredient to use — there are plenty of recipes online that will help guide your measuring skills. Overnight oats really make life easier as they require minimal effort while providing maximum flavor and nutrition. So why wait until tomorrow when you could enjoy this delicious breakfast today? Give it a try and see for yourself! Benefits Of Eating Overnight Oats Eating overnight oats is a simple and delicious way to nourish your body and save time. Not only are they easy to prepare, but they’re also nutrient dense. Overnight oats provide you with healthy carbohydrates, fiber, as well as protein and fat for sustained energy throughout the day. The best part about eating overnight oats is that it requires minimal preparation. All you have to do is put all of the ingredients together in a jar or bowl the night before and let them sit overnight so that they can soften up and absorb liquid. In the morning, simply add any additional toppings like fresh fruit, nuts or seeds -- then grab-and-go! This makes it an ideal meal option if you're short on time during busy mornings. Overnight oats offer many health benefits from providing essential nutrients such as vitamins A, B complex, C and E; minerals like calcium, zinc, magnesium and iron; antioxidants; probiotics; omega 3 fatty acids; prebiotic fibers; plus other beneficial compounds like polyphenols which aid digestion. So not only does this tasty breakfast save you time in the morning – it's incredibly nutritious too! Tips For Making Overnight Oats I love making overnight oats for an easy and healthy breakfast! When it comes to choosing ingredients, I always go for rolled oats and some type of dairy-free milk, like almond or coconut milk. Preparing the oats is simple - just mix the oats and milk together in a bowl or jar, and let it sit in the fridge overnight. When it comes to toppings and add-ins, I like to mix in some fresh or frozen fruit, nut butter, chia seeds and a sprinkle of cinnamon for a delicious and nutritious breakfast. There's so many possibilities with overnight oats - have fun and get creative! Choosing Ingredients When it comes to making overnight oats, one of the most important steps is choosing your ingredients. Depending on how much time you have for soaking, there are a few different options to consider when selecting what type and amount of ingredients should be included in your recipe. If you're short on time, quick-cooking steel cut oatmeal will work best as they only require 5 minutes of soaking time; however, if you've got some extra time on your hands then rolled or old fashioned oats can be used instead. In terms of flavor combinations, you really do have endless options here! You could create something sweet by adding fruit such as blueberries and banana slices along with a couple tablespoons of honey or maple syrup; alternatively, if savory is more your style try mixing in an egg, shredded cheese and/or cooked vegetables like spinach. To make sure these flavors don't overpower each other though I would recommend trying out no more than three main components per bowl. To sum it up: when preparing overnight oats always remember that the key is to find balance between flavor profiles so that all the individual ingredients shine through without competing against each other. Preparing Oats Now that you've got your ingredients sorted out, it's time to prepare the oats for soaking overnight. First things first: make sure your oats are stored properly so they stay fresh and retain their texture. The best way to do this is by putting them in an airtight container or zip-lock bag and storing them in a cool, dry place such as a pantry or cupboard. When it comes to actually cooking the oats, there are several techniques you can use depending on what type of consistency and flavor you're aiming for. For example, if you want something creamy then try boiling the oats with milk instead of water. Alternatively, if something more hearty is preferred then consider using a slow cooker to simmer the oats overnight. Whatever technique you decide on just remember that the goal here is to achieve a slightly softened but still chewy oat texture! Toppings And Add-Ins Once you've got the oats ready for soaking overnight, it's time to get creative with your toppings and add-ins! You can choose from a variety of dairy free options such as almond milk, coconut yogurt or even avocado. Or try out some creative combinations like adding fresh fruit, nuts or seeds for an extra boost of flavor. The possibilities are endless just make sure that whatever ingredients you choose don't overpower the taste of the oats themselves! Whichever combination you decide on will be sure to give your breakfast bowl a delicious twist. Variations On The Basic Recipe Ah, overnight oats - such a delicious and versatile breakfast option! With just a few simple ingredients you can whip up this tasty treat in no time. But don't be afraid to get creative with your recipe: there are so many ways to add variations for spice, sweetness, texture, and flavor. Here's how you can take the classic overnight oats recipe to the next level with some unique spice variations and savory toppings. To make the most of spices like cinnamon or nutmeg, try adding them directly into the oat mixture before refrigerating. You could also mix things up by using different types of milk instead of water as your base liquid ingredient; almond milk is particularly creamy and pairs well with these flavors. And if you're looking for something even more intense, consider making chai-spiced overnight oats: simply steep two chai tea bags in warm water before combining it with all other ingredients. The result will be an explosion of rich aroma and subtle warmth that'll have everyone coming back for seconds (or thirds!). Now let’s talk about topping options – because what would overnight oats be without their crowning glory? Try incorporating savory elements like cheese crumbles or bacon bits for extra salty goodness. Or maybe go sweet and crunchy with nuts or dried fruit pieces on top. There really isn't any wrong choice here – just use whatever suits your taste buds best! So why not go ahead and create your own special version today? Serving Suggestions For Overnight Oats I love making overnight oats for breakfast because it's so easy to customize them and make them delicious! Whether you like to keep things simple with just a little bit of sweetness, or spice up your morning routine with some unexpected flavor combinations, there are plenty of possibilities. Here are some ideas for spicing up your overnight oats recipe. When it comes to fruit combinations, the sky is really the limit! You can use all sorts of fresh or frozen fruits, including berries, stone fruits, apples and pears. If you want to add an extra touch of sweetening without adding refined sugar, try using dried fruit such as cranberries or raisins. And if you're feeling adventurous, why not experiment with tropical fruits such as mangoes and papayas? When it comes to spicing options, cinnamon is always a great choice! But there are lots of other spices that work well in overnight oats too - nutmeg, cardamom and ginger are all flavorful additions that pair especially nicely with the creamy texture of cooked oats. Try experimenting by mixing different spices together until you find the perfect combination for your taste buds! Frequently Asked Questions How Long Do Overnight Oats Last In The Refrigerator? Storing overnight oats in the refrigerator can help them last longer. Generally speaking, if you portion your oats correctly and store them properly, they should stay good for up to four days. Be sure to use an airtight container or jar and only make enough for one serving at a time so that you don't have leftovers sitting around for too long. If you do end up with extra portions, it's best to freeze them and enjoy within two weeks of freezing. Can You Freeze Overnight Oats? Yes, you can freeze overnight oats! To do this properly and avoid them becoming hard, it's important to follow the correct storing tips. Firstly, make sure they're in an airtight container when freezing - otherwise, they can easily become dry or take on other flavors. Secondly, be sure to prepare your oat mixture as you normally would before adding into a freezer-safe bag or container. When ready to eat the oats, thaw out at room temperature for a few hours before heating up or eating cold. Can Oats Be Soaked For Longer Than 8 Hours? Yes, you can soak oats for longer than 8 hours. Depending on the soaking temperature, some overnight variations may have a softer texture if soaked for more than 8 hours. Overnight oats are typically made with raw rolled or steel cut oats and left to sit in liquid for anywhere from 4-12 hours depending on your preference. Soaking time will vary based on the type of oats used, however it’s best not to go over 12 hours as they could become too soft and mushy. Is It Safe To Eat Raw Oats? Yes, it is safe to eat raw oats. In fact, many recipes require you to soak oats overnight in order to get the desired texture and flavor. You can also prepare your own raw oat mixture by combining rolled or steel-cut oats with other raw ingredients such as fruits, nuts and seeds for a quick snack or breakfast. Overnight preparation allows all of the flavors to blend together so that you can enjoy a tasty meal without having to cook anything! Are Overnight Oats Suitable For People With Gluten Allergies? If you have a gluten allergy, overnight oats can be a great option for your breakfast. Overnight oats are naturally gluten free and provide an easy-to-make, tasty alternative to traditional oatmeal or other grains that contain gluten. When preparing overnight oats, make sure to check the ingredients list of any add-ins like yogurt, granola, and nuts as some may include wheat or barley products that could trigger allergies. If you're looking for more gluten free alternatives beyond overnight oats, consider adding chia seeds or buckwheat cereal to your diet instead. No matter what you choose though, it's always important to pay attention to the ingredient labels on all food items when trying to manage allergies. Conclusion In conclusion, overnight oats are a nutritious and delicious way to start the day. They can be prepped in advance so they're ready when you wake up, saving you time in the morning rush. Overnight oats should last for three or four days when stored in an airtight container in the fridge. If you want to make them ahead of time, freezing is also an option! However, if your oats have been soaked for longer than 8 hours it's best to discard them as this could lead to food poisoning. Raw oats aren't safe to eat but those with gluten allergies can rest assured that overnight oats are suitable for their dietary needs. With all these benefits, why not give overnight oats a try today? If you're looking for more delicious recipes to try, be sure to check out The Disney Chef's recipe categories! Whether you're in the mood for something sweet like a cake recipe, something savory like a chicken or pork recipe, or something fresh like a vegetable or seafood recipe, there's something for everyone. And if you're a meat-lover, don't forget to check out the beef recipes category for hearty and satisfying meals. With so many options to choose from, you're sure to find a new favorite recipe to add to your collection. Read the full article
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hookcompany · 2 years
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Hey, you once mentioned something about Tom Riddle being a little suicidal. Your new post reminded of that and I wonder why you think that. It’s the complete opposite of what the books want you to think.
Alright, it’s time, let’s do this.
My standard disclaimer whenever we venture into the dark pit that is my thoughts on Tom Riddle: I’m going to say a lot of controversial stuff that fandom generally doesn’t agree with, I will say so much of this shit that I simply do not have time to explain it all, I expect 99% of you to disagree with me and the other 1% to be so horrifyingly offended that I dare to contemplate a world in which Tom isn’t always an overly competent psychopath that they leave me notes telling me to take this trash out of their character tags.
We good? Alright.
So, when I say a little suicidal, I mean that he is suicidal.
Not on the level that he’s going to kill himself tomorrow, or even has plans to kill himself, but in that he makes very strange decisions for someone who desperately wants to live.
And yes, I realize I speak blasphemy given that Tom Riddle’s entire m.o. is supposed to be his crippling fear of death.
Oh man, this one’s going to be so long.
So, my reasoning comes down to a few things:
The location of the horcruxes and the nature of their protections.
The events of Deathly Hallows and Tom’s final actions in the novel
The nature of horcruxes and what it means to not only be able to create one but what it does to you (caveat that I am going to headcanon hard here and speak utter blasphemy)
So, let’s start in order this time, because I think the first two are actually far easier for me to explain.
The Location and Nature of the Horcrux Protections and the Trouble with Backdoors in Security
So, first, the horcruxes are all conveniently located in Great Britain. Not even just in Great Britain, all in places that Albus Dumbledore and later Harry Potter can track down with relative ease, all fairly close to each other.
Now, part of this is undoubtedly attributable to Tom’s overly romantic nature. 
Yes, Tom Riddle is a giant romantic, though not necessarily in the traditional sense everyone thinks of. The film “Patton” and its treatment of Patton comes to mind. Tom Riddle is a man enamored by a sense of greatness, of being remembered in this world rather than fading into oblivion, by the significance of places and times in history not only of the world but of himself. He creates an entire, grand, persona for himself because to live an ordinary life for him is to be worthy of nothing.
So, given that, of course Tom places the horcruxes in sentimental locations that have personal meaning to him.
However, it also makes them perilously easy to find and collect.
By itself, this wouldn’t spark my notice.
The ability to destroy horcruxes are not easy to come by. There’s only one basilisk and it’s by chance/Lucius fucking up that Harry gains access to the necessary basilisk venom. Using Fyendfire is an incredibly dangerous thing to do and just as likely to blow up you and the next three towns over as it is to destroy a horcrux. And if there are other means of destroying a horcrux they’re just as hard to come by or just as dangerous.
It’s not quite throwing it into the fires of Mt. Doom from which it was forged but it’s pretty damn close.
So, really, without JKR’s convenient Deus Ex Machina giving both him and Dumbledore the means to actually destroy these things, Tom Riddle’s horcruxes are pretty damn safe no matter where we put them. As we see from the locket, which Regulus manages to collect but Kreacher cannot destroy even after several decades.
However, what does spark my notice, is that the horcruxes can be collected by someone other than Tom Riddle when it appears as if they were never intended to be. What do I mean by this?
From what we see, there’s no benefit to Tom if the original horcruxes are found by anyone. He doesn’t seek them out to restore his original body, they’re just anchor points that should be hidden at all costs. So, he’ll never need a Death Eater to go collect them for him should he be indisposed (indeed, to do so would require a tremendous amount of trust in people he has very little trust in). 
So, why hide them in such a way that others can access them? There are canon based options which would have prevented anyone else from reaching them. Given the existence of age lines, I imagine Tom Riddle could make some arbitrary barrier keyed only to himself. There are mokeskin pouches, such as the one Harry is given in the seventh book, which we know can only be accessed by whoever they’re keyed to. There’s the Fidelius Charm which, true requires a secret keeper which Tom would be very meh on, but options exist.
Tom Riddle could wipe the locations of his horcruxes off the face of the map. He chooses not to. Which leads me to believe that, at least on some unconscious level, he wants the horcruxes to be found.
Then we have the protections.
Specifically, I’m thinking of the locket here.
Yes, the protections are very formidable, but they’re also goddamn weird. 
Rather than make the horcrux simply inaccessible, kill all those intruding, instead the intruder has to go through a very “Saw” like puzzle in which they drown themselves in despair until they finally get the locket, at which point they likely suicide by zombie.
More, there’s no hint that there’s any other way to retrieve the locket. 
Backdoors in security are a very bad idea. What they do is weaken the security as a whole and, if you can take a short cut is, it means that someone who is clever enough and motivated enough can to. Dumbledore is both clever and motivated enough, and I imagine if there was a way to get the horcrux that involved not doing this ridiculous task he would have done it.
More, we’d be back to the land of Tom making sure only he can access the horcrux by requiring a password, keying it to his magical signature, or something so that no one else could get it.
Which means, that’s right, if Tom wants to get the locket he’s drinking the goddamn despair juice just like the rest of us.
What kind of a person would do any of this?
I’ve gone over this before, but I don’t think Tom Riddle’s crazy. Rather, in this case, I think he’s driven by an unbelievable amount of nihilist rage and is also quite depressed.
Tom goes to collect his horcrux, “Ah, it’s time to remember what a miserable life I’ve led and the sheer awfulness of my own existence. Good, I was starting to feel a little too happy. Let’s see if I get eaten by my undead, vengeful, victims today.” 
The Events of Deathly Hallows and Tom Riddle’s Death
I think Tom Riddle’s final death in the books was suicide.
Tom takes over the Wizarding World, finally, and it’s as miserable as ever.
He’s trapped in this sham, barely functional, probably very painful body. His Death Eaters are completely out of control and for all that he wanted society to burn it’s now burning and no one’s even learned anything from this. Children in Hogwarts are being routinely tortured and have now staged a rebellion in which he’s having to slaughter them (I have reasons to believe that this is not what Tom Riddle wanted, at all, but that’s best saved for another post), and then he learns his horcruxes have all been destroyed without him even noticing.
There’s so little left of him, he has accomplished nothing, and there’s Harry Potter back from the dead yet again, gloating at him that love conquers all and Tom Riddle will never understand.
And Harry’s right, Tom Riddle will never understand, the world is meaningless and flat to him now and he finally understand that there’s no point to it. I think Tom Riddle decides he’s done. He’s just done.
He enters in a duel with Harry Potter knowing the weird nature of their wands. Now, it can be assumed he used the Elder Wand, but we know they get locked in Priori Incatatum , and that makes no damn sense with the Elder Wand (well, wandlore in general is silly, but I’m working with what JKR gave me here). So I choose to take JKR at her somewhat established canon and say that, no matter what Harry thought, Voldemort was using his original wand.
He throws out the killing curse, despite having now witnessed Harry resurrecting twice to this thing, and within two seconds it rebounds and kills him.
Voldemort’s death is a lot like this scene from the recent, terrible, 2020 live action Mulan (10/10 do not recommend).  Now, we’re supposed to think that this scene is the witch saving Mulan’s life and thus showing her hope for the next generation. In actuality, the witch literally flies into an arrow she could have easily deflected from Mulan’s path. It’s a suicide that Mulan is too stupid to notice.
Tom chooses suicide in the most ridiculous, flamboyant, and easily written off manner one can and no one even notices. Instead Harry crows that he has personally defeated Voldemort, with the power of love no less, HUZZAH!
And the castle parties.
The Nature of Horcruxes
I almost don’t want to include this because it’s so... well, I’m really drifting far from canon and fandom now.
However, with horcruxes, there’s always an overriding question of why Tom is able to make so many when we don’t see anyone else with these things around (especially as it’s clear that murder doesn’t simply happen for those that now have horcruxes).
Usually, you have fic authors just sort of shrug and go, “Well, he’s that evil, I guess.” Sometimes you have them go, “No one else is crazy enough to keep going, and that’s why Voldemort’s cuckoo bananas.” 
One very good explanation I’ve seen is that it’s because most people, when they murder, feel remorse immediately. The soul split happens, but they’re haunted by the murder for the rest of their life, and thus the horcrux isn’t made. Voldemort, feeling nothing when he kills anyone, is thus able to make them even for when he’s only indirectly associated with the death in question.
However, to me that never really jived philosophically.
Mostly, I simply cannot imagine that tearing apart your very soul is an act of indifference. Here’s how I see it: to do something like that to yourself, you must care, you must care beyond all imagine and human endurance. Your soul literally cannot abide it and saws itself in half, purging what you cannot stand about yourself the most. 
The remorse part is, yes, remorse for the act and the victim but more to the point it is the ability to forgive and reaccept the worst part of yourself. That part of yourself that you purged and destroyed, which is nearly impossible to do and might very well destroy the fabric of who you are). 
In other words, while creating a horcrux is an abominable act of hatred, it is also one of profound self-hatred.
Tom Riddle loathes himself so much that he is able to do this over and over and over again. 
As Tom Riddle goes on he makes himself into less and less and less of himself until he probably doesn’t even know who he is anymore. He just knows, whatever is left of him, he loathes that too. 
And then, of course, he gives up, runs into the nearest flying arrow, and dies.
TL;DR: Tom Riddle’s is a miserable existence that ended in a miserable if unintentionally hilarious manner
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arcane-nari · 3 years
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why are you trying to make nari evil she's the only good one in the arcane order?
(re: this post I’m assuming)
sorry anon you've unlocked my trap card. now i can draw infodumping from my hand and place it face up on the board
tl;dr: Nari isn't evil -- but neither is the arcane order. It's just that nari is the only one of the three who isn't okay with the suffering that would be caused by doing her job of maintaining the balance.
from what i can tell, the order's morality isn't Good or Evil in Tales of Arcadia: Wizards. (I do not see Rise of the Titans. I am not looking.) i've had this blog since wizards first came out, so my interpretation of nari is largely from there, with only some points here and there taken from Nari.
(aside: i feel so vindicated with how she acted in the police station. this bug is feral and i love her)
they're antagonists for sure, and they're rivals, but their morality isn't good. Instead, it's sort of more focussed on the good of the balance between magic and mortals and keeping that in check. there isn't much explanation as to what that means in canon, but I think it's sort of a chaos vs order thing -- too much of one and the world explodes. too much of the other and it's rendered inert.
before the battle of killahead, while each demigod has their own personality, they seem to be of the same mind when it comes to the end goal: protect the balance, no matter how many mortals get hurt along the way. (Mortals, in this case, meaning anyone who is not a primordial wizard.) It's a matter of good of the many (the balance) vs the goods of the few or the one (mortals).
Coupled with their duty to the balance, i have the interpretation that they're simply too disconnected from the world of mortals to understand what pain is -- skrael and bellroc moreso than nari, which i'll get to in a minute. But they're so powerful and ancient that it's easy for them to feel Apart from the mortals, because of how short their lives are and how small their magic is in comparison. Kind of like how most humans view squirrels -- they're creatures living their own lives and having their own drama, but, ultimately, we are far more advanced.
to continue the metaphor -- the world at the time of killahead is something along the lines of a tree that's overgrown the sidewalk and is causing problems, in my mind. Yes, squirrels have made their home in it, but it's causing too much trouble to the humans living in the area, so it has to be cut down. It's not done to cause direct harm to the squirrels. it's just that the action of cutting down the tree will cause direct or indirect harm to the squirrels.
(I've used this metaphor way too often with the order lol)
So they aren't remaking the world because they hate humans specifically. Most definitions of evil is someone who wants explicitly to do other's harm. In my mind, the order doesn't want explicitly to do people harm. They don't care about people. Well -- they don't like them, and perhaps they aren't happy about the amount of people who will die when they remake the world, but it's certainly more than justifiable in their mind considering the ends they're pursuing.
And that takes me to pain. Nari explicitly says she can sense all souls, but it's not clear whether she can sense their pain and suffering. Rather, she seems to be right on board with the order's methods all the way up until she sees Killahead directly. Once she sees the pain -- once it becomes real for her -- she can't dismiss it as a necessary evil that comes with keeping the balance in line. She can't depersonalize it or separate herself from it.
Sure, she's able to occasionally Look into the aether and see souls winking out here and there due to the destruction being caused, but it's different from seeing it up close. And she realizes what they're doing has real and tangible effects and she can't do her duty anymore. It's not that remaking the world is wrong. It's not that the demigods are misguided.
"It's not worth it."
Those are nari's words when she realizes what they've done. The cost is too high. They can't move forward.
I think, were this turned around and the order were to be shown as the protagonists, nari would be written to be a coward. It's all about doing your duty until you face the consequences of your actions, and you can't keep your word. Instead of trying to stop things, she runs. She hides. for nine centuries, she spends her life hidden in a castle away from the world.
We don't see what she does, but I think she learns. I think she asks questions and learns how people work, and how trolls work. I think, once she has the chance to be up close and personal to living people -- even if it's just galahad for the majority of the time -- she falls in love with them. it's hard not to. The way they change and grow and create. The idea of constellations is as much a wonder to her now as it had been the first time she heard about it.
And her desire to protect mortals grow with it. The more she learns, the more her heart becomes entangled with the very world she once wanted to remake. To hell with her orders and her duty -- she's doing what she thinks is right.
By hiding. By doing nothing. We see in Rott that it's probably the only thing for it, considering mind control, but i'm iffy on whether that's something that's canon for me or not. It feels a bit too convenient, considering we've seen such massive power on her end.
She's ancient, but she learns in a few short years what it means to have friends. Her love for humanity is what separates her from the order but, on an objective level, that doesn't make her good, or even Not Evil. Ultimately, it's a human thing to label her as good because her intentions align with protecting us, rather than protecting this vague, enigmatic concept of The Balance that we get so little understanding about. Maybe if we as an audience got more, we would understand why it mattered enough to destroy the entire world to repair it, but we don't, so it's easier to side with the tangible "protect humans at all costs" goal over the intangible "repair the balance at all costs" goal
And the order cares about each other. The way nari teases bellroc and skrael, the way bellroc snaps at skrael -- it feels like a band of siblings. It feels like a family. There's more to them than evil. (And rott did a disservice by trying to make them such. Even at the end, bellroc showed empathy. They could have killed jim when they were certain of their victory, but they told him to go to his family. There's a heart in there, however much it may be of blackened stone.)
(But that's another story entirely.)
There's stories about the fair folk that come to mind, with their strange morals and rules. A lot of stories paint these fairies as evil because their punishments seemed harsher than what humans would expect for certain infractions, while their games often included things that hurt humans. But it's not because they wanted to hurt humans directly. (Okay, a lot of them did, but many of them didn't). It's that what they consider good and bad is so far removed from humanity, because they are not and have never been human. They're simply existing alongside them in the same world.
In conclusion, the order isn't evil. But because their goals don't include the welfare of humans, it's easy to label them as such - and because nari's goals ultimately were protecting humanity, it's easy to label her as good. But the order themselves are too far removed from humanity for me, personally, to label them in terms of explicit morals.
Nari is kind. She is clever, and she's capable of learning, and she's curious. She is herself -- but if we call her good, that's on us, whatever comes of it. She may be capable of change, but she is only ever herself, whatever shape that takes
also veggie lady good character and i love her. grey morality and all.
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rwbyconversations · 3 years
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Penny's arc was tragically worthless in Volume 8
Looking at Penny's arc in V8 just feels like... torture porn. Her and Oscar really got the short end of the stick in just being beat over the head and put through the wringer. But the way her arc went in Volume 8, looking at it from the POV of the season at large... it feels disjointed and haphazard.
I have to assume that Penny's V8 arc was built around the concept of the writing team going "How do we kill Penny and convince the fanbase that it will stick this time, no takebacks from Pietro?", alongside them thinking about how to give the Winter Maiden powers to Winter. And I think as a consequence all the steps in V8 are done to lead to her getting a human body so that Cinder can scrape out a win and Penny sees no other option but having Jaune euthanise to be sure Cinder doesn't get the powers. But the problem was that most people assumed that Penny had at least one more life left in the tank- Pietro pretty much made it clear in V7 that he only had one more burst of Aura left to give her, and it was obvious that Penny couldn't stay the Winter Maiden because she would break the balance of the show in staying. So they couldn't just kill her twice in one season, that would be excessive and feel forced, and only killing her once would lead people to assume Penny 3.0 would appear during Volumes 10 or 11.
So I think that's why we got the Watts virus plot- something that would make Penny kill herself after going to the Staff so that RWBY can use it to make her a new body that is conveniently a lot easier to kill, while also taking Penny out of show for the middle part involving the Atlas Invasion. But in turn, Pietro then had to be taken off the board because if Pietro was around, he'd be able to solve the virus thanks to his omnidisciplinary science skills that already include mastery of the fields of rocket engineering, prosothetics, robots, artifical intelligence and more. So when Amity falls and Penny is first infected with the virus, Pietro and Maria... just leave the show. They're still on Amity, but no one ever thinks to fly out and see where they landed to find Pietro. Which in turn means Pietro has no role to play for the rest of the season, meaning he never gets to find out Penny is a full human and then subsequently be there for her death. I'm sure CRWBY will eventually say "Oh we meant to have a cameo at the end but it got cut for time" like they usually do, but that's gonna feel like an excuse. Likely there was no hypothetical return of Pietro and Maria because they'd served their purpose so no sense bringing them back for the season. It's also a bummer because I think a Pietro/Watts hacker battle would have been cool. Watts was a very interesting character and I would have liked to have seen more explanation of his vendetta against Atlas, especially against the man who one-upped his project.
But the problem is twofold with the writer's plan to kill Penny. First off, Penny's "Real Girl" moment this season just copy pastes the message of her arc in Volume 7- where she again received confirmation that despite her mechanical nature, she had a real soul and was a Real Girl enough to get the Maiden Powers. This was a great way to show the Maiden Powers being used to validate Penny's identity without being too on the nose about Penny being a Pinnochio metaphor. Volume 8's version of this as a consequence feels far cheaper and undermines the intent of the Volume 7 finale. I mean, it literally includes a blue fairy, I think they went beyond on the nose and just punched the viewer with how unsubtle it was.
Her final death in turn is another can of worms, not least of which due to her suicide by Jaune which is more a shipping container's worth of worms, but what hurts the most is the idea that Penny is happy to die when she's talking to Winter, all smiles and content that she got to make a choice for once. Putting aside the horrific undertones in relation to Penny's choice to commit suicide (alongside the fact that this is a real thing people with depression have done where they have killed themselves due to feeling it was the one choice they honestly had in their lives), it's also a lot of wasted plot potential for Penny. I didn't like her getting another Real Girl Moment when she already had a great one, but if they were gonna do it then they could at least explore the concept- show Penny being a Real Girl and getting her wish, getting to have a happy ending with Pietro and Ruby. Yes, sometimes people die in media before their arcs resolve because that's realistic or some crap, but RWBY's not that show. Every time someone has died they have been at the conclusion of an arc, not the beginning of a new one.
Instead it just feels like Penny was a "Real Girl" so that both Penny was easier for Cinder to kill, and so someone on CRWBY could get paid to model her feet. And I don't know which of those upsets me more.
I was never a ride or die Penny fan but she always livened up a lot of the seasons she was in. Floating Array goes swish and I go yaaaaaaay. I was even gonna say that Penny's arc, with the exception of the virus subplot, was one of the generally better arcs in Volume 8. But the way they handled her in the final hour just felt miserably cruel, to say nothing of the choice to have the credits song be Penny's first song as a deliberate attempt to emotionally manipulate the fanbase. This death is so cheap and under-handed that now her death in Volume 3- one of the Best Scenes Of The Whole Fucking Show- has been retroactively weaked and stripped of impact. Because all it led to was Penny getting to come back for two seasons and dying right after, and Ruby doesn't even get to be there when she dies again. Or Nora, or Winter, or anyone she had a bond with or a pre-established dynamic. I still can't fathom what choices creatively led to Jaune being her killer given the focus of her bonds with the aforementioned trio, but regardless it was easily the worst call they could have made. Literally anyone else would have made the scene flow better.
You can re-write the Solitas arc in a way where Penny never came back and nothing changes- the exact same circumstances occur across the board for Volumes 7 and 8 except Winter gets the Maiden Powers a bit earlier. That's how little she mattered. Penny feels like she came back just for fanservice like Neo's return in Volume 6- a way to boost ratings and make money off merch for her again. And now in turn, her death just feels like a mix of a ratings stunt and a way to get rid of an OP character. She didn't have to die, and I don't mean in show.
I just mean writing-wise it was pointless torture-porn. What a waste.
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latent-thoughts · 3 years
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Hello lovely, I noticed lot of people on here, the same people who complained about Ragnarok, being mean to the ones who right now cannot accept the series as canon for so many reasons. Why do you think they are acting like that? I thought they should know by now how it feels to be let down by canon
I wish I knew, hon. I wish...
I don't want to make judgements and assumptions about anyone here, unlike those made assumptions about us. (That we don't understand and appreciate the Loki series because of our own trauma, mental health issues and history of abuse. Because obviously everyone has gone through the same experience, and obviously our capacity for critical thinking has been warped by those experiences. Right? Yay for gaslighting and judgment.)
At this point, the most I can say is that perhaps it's all about cognitive dissonance. Perhaps they made the decision to love the series in it's entirety, because unlike Ragnarok, Loki was supposed to be its focus. Any cracks in Loki's characterization, or inconsistencies in the plot, or any misses regarding what was advertised and what was delivered, etc., are being explained away with the help of thermian arguments.
I understand this behaviour on some level, because I too wanted to love the Loki series with all my heart. I still love the first 3 episodes of it. But then the plot began to show inconsistencies, and the characterization got too derailed for me to keep agreeing with it. I had my fair share of cognitive dissonance, but I pulled myself out of it and reassessed the series, both from intra narrative and ultra narrative perspective. And it fell short on both accounts. 🤷
What more, the creators of the series blatantly lied to the audience about what would be covered in the series, which was completely unnecessary from promo standpoint (I made a separate post about this issue, so gonna leave it here).
Lastly, I don't know what's going on in the minds of these fans, but they do seem to have a convenient amnesia about the first 3 Loki movies in the MCU. They've forgotten that Loki has never been after a throne. That he's not a narcissist but a scapegoat in the narrative, that despite his love for his adoptive family, he's been ill-treated by them in different ways. That the NY attack happened because of Thanos, because Loki was off the rails, fresh out of a suicide attempt, indoctrinated, manipulated, twisted enough to accept that fruitless mission so he could feel a semblance of control in his life. That even at his most violent points he chose not to do much damage. That he has immense capacity for empathy and love, despite his sarcasm and cutting wit. That he craved love and respect from others. That he's not inherently malicious. And that his tendency for doing the needful, no matter how hard or scary it may be, is stronger than his tendency to take the easier route ("If it were easy, anyone would do it...").
But I digress...
Lastly, I think this also has a lot to do with shipping and amatonormativity. Something that Ragnarok didn't have beyond whatever was going on with Frostmaster shippers claiming it was canon. The series introduced a romance into the story, so yeah, we all have opinions about it. And nastiness abounds... 🙃
But, as the unspoken rule of fandom goes, despite what anyone says, people are allowed to love a piece of media for whatever reason. The thing is, I'd really appreciate it if the ones who loved the series wouldn't be so judgmental and condescending towards those who didn't like it. We do possess critical thinking, and that has no relationship to whether we're mentally ill or have suffered trauma or abuse.
On a more personal note, I'm presently getting anon hate for criticizing Tom for misleading us in the interviews and not delivering on whatever he had stated therein. On how he portrayed Loki, on how he agreed with the creative and narrative decisions in the series. I've seen my fair share of posts telling us that we cannot criticize it because that's how Tom wants Loki to be, so that's the superior take. I disagree.
I'd say that, as a consumer of the series, I have every right to criticize it, including those who were part of it. I'm not torching Tom's (or anyone's) home, I'm simply expressing my opinion on my own blog. It's my right to criticize and reject whatever I want to. Yes, Tom's headcanon prevailed in the series, and that's that. But I still have a right to reject it, because it's not consistent with the earlier movies. I'm not sending Tom any hate, but I'm not worshiping him either.
Yet, here I am, getting hate for my very valid criticisms, in utter irony. 😃😃😃
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x0401x · 3 years
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Jeweler Richard Fanbook Short Story #26
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Opera-phile
I had a hobby that I couldn’t tell anyone about. People like me were no rare breed.
Amongst the hobbies I had heard about from my friends until now, the one that made me think “this might be a bit hard to tell someone” the most was that keeping ice cream lids when they finished eating it. They said they would write down the date on each lid and store them in one of those clear files sold at 100-yen shops. They could only eat ice cream on special days when they were little, and they still couldn’t get over the habit of that time. The face of the person who had told me about this seemed simply satisfied in some way. Regardless, this may not have been something so difficult to say because it was revealed at a drinking party.
Now. Bringing the topic back to me.
If you were living alone in a foreign land called Sri Lanka, you could do whatever you wanted. I could get up at any time, eat whatever I felt like, study the things I enjoyed and go wherever I wanted with my Three-Wheeler. I didn’t have much, but the prices were cheap. My culinary repertoire was also noticeably increasing. Even if I danced alone in my room, no one would be watching. No, my dear dog ​​Jirou would stare at me with a bit of a strange look, but there were times when he’d eventually jump up and down and start dancing with me. Even if I listened to music at a loud volume, the same went for my neighbors.
Therefore, I was now thinking that maybe my stopper had come off a little.
I had bought the CD in Colombo, the real capital of Sri Lanka. As one would expect of the biggest shop in the country, they sold a lot of things that were unlikely to be available in Kandy.
The jacket featured a black-haired woman with a spellbound face, both of her arms outstretched. It was an opera CD with twelve songs.
I went back and forth in my room, shouting, “ah~, ah~”. What an opera was? No, I did know. It was traditional singing style – something like a musical, in which singers such as tenor, paritone, soprano and alto would perform along with a play. But something about them that diverged a bit from musicals was that the words used were old, the melodies weren’t excitable, and they were mainly either Italian or French, I believed.
I had no choice but admit it at this point. I liked opera.
Nakata Seigi had the words “I’m in love with opera” floating about in his head. I was driven by an urge to scream “gyaaah” and make said words disappear, but on the CD jacket, Maria Callas was making a spellbound face as usual, and that made me happy. I had purchased this CD after much hesitation over buying this or buying that. There was no way I wouldn’t be happy about it. Still...
Somewhere in my head, I recognized this as something embarrassing.
My dear boss was always telling me to think rationally at such times. He told me that whenever I thought my mind was moving in absurd ways, it always happened that there was some sort of timid development in me, which I either hadn’t noticed or, even if I did notice it, I’d ignore it – but once I understood it, it would stop being absurd.
Why would opera be embarrassing in the first place?
How I had come to like opera? The trigger was the radio. When I was staying at a hotel for a while back in Tokyo, I tended to feel down because I had nothing to do other than study, so I’d sometimes listen to the radio broadcast at the hotel while devoting myself to physics and English.
The singing voice I heard at that time was – how should I put it? – tremendously wonderful.
I couldn’t think that it was the voice of someone from the same world as myself. Someone was singing in a place just a few ways away, and as I listened to it, my body felt like my body was airily floating up – it was that kind of voice. I didn’t have any preferences for either male or female, and if anything, I liked both. The title of the song being streamed was written in the hotel’s guidebook, so I went to a video streaming site and searched for the same song by other singers and the songs that came before and after said piece. Faust. Madama Butterfly. Otello. Rigoletto. The Magic Flute. Don Giovanni. Whenever an opera song was used on a TV show, i became able to at least tell which prelude it was from.
And this passion hadn’t cooled down even now that some time had passed since then.
I walked around the room again, shouting, “Uuuh, uuuh”. Jirou energetically followed me from behind. It was almost as if he meant to say, “It’s fun to go a stroll even inside a room, huh, owner?”. Sorry but it’s not like I’m taking you on a walk, I thought, yet Jirou couldn’t care less, letting out a sweet voice as I held him up and rocked him, and then running off to the yard as if he had gotten excited. Just as I felt relieved, thinking about what a cute fella he was, I found myself imagining something. I could see myself at the drinking party, talking about how I liked opera. The reaction I pictured was an explosion of laughter.
“‘Opera’, you say. What’s up with that? It’s that thing where fat people raise their voices like crazy, right? You like that? Why? No way, Nakata, didn’t you just want to have a rich people hobby just ‘cause you’ve well-off these days? Like, those that feel like you’re superior. That’s exactly what opera is. Okay, I get it, but that ain’t very interesting, so how about we change the topic?”
It gave me chills.
I wasn’t creeped out by how people might talk about my hobbies. However, it was painful to have the whole genre of opera, which had saved me back when I was put in a spot like a light reaching out from the sky, be judged by people who didn’t even know the difference between Callas and Pavarotti and not be able to defend them. I had to protect what was important to me. Or else, it would get damaged. I wasn’t referring to the long-standing form of art that had been cultivated for hundreds of years. I meant my own heart. That was painful to me.
Yeah, I was somewhat aware that this wasn’t an “embarrassment”. But I was scared.
I was low-key terrified of having people pointing their fingers at me from behind with words such as “eccentric”, “weirdo” or “pretentious” for having a preference that was different from other people’s – and something that I seriously liked, no less.
With a deep breath, I took the CD’s vinyl cover. Unlike Japanese CDs, there was none of those convenient little ears that made the cover come off when you pulled it. I slowly cut it with a pair of scissors, set it on a nostalgic stereo radio and played it while referring to the table of track numbers on the backside.
Just from the intro, I already knew who was singing and what song it was.
Maria Callas’s “Casta Diva”. It was a song from an opera called “Norma”, and the meaning of it was “chaste goddess”.
What it made me reminisce to was a seriously horrible time, when I had to prepare for my death to a certain extent. Whenever this song played in the hotel’s radio program, which repeated itself over and over, this song would connect me with paradise, telling me that I didn’t need to worry about trivial matters, so I was able to leave it all aside and relax. It was that kind of song. Without a doubt, my biggest and best saver was that beautiful jeweler, but from the sidelines, opera had definitely helped me keep my sanity.
That was amazing.
I was grateful from the bottom of my heart that this form of art, which couldn’t be classified as mainstream at all in Japan and probably overseas as well, had maintained its thread of life across the centuries. It had saved me. Would the CD sales be of any help to it? Thankfully, I had some money to spend and was probably able to buy a set of all-track CDs per month. Would that be a form of repayment of any kind? It would be great if so, I thought wholeheartedly.
“Casta Diva” wasn’t too long a piece. With a voice that sounded like it was vanishing, the song ended. For whatever reason, it made me feel like crying, no matter how many times I had listened to it. It was too beautiful. It was an impossible speculation, but if Richard turned into a song, I felt that his form would change into something very close to this one.
Once I finished listening to the track, the “aaah”s and “uuuh”s had disappeared from my head. I liked opera. Opera turned into my strength. So I wanted to cherish it.
Even if someone ridiculed me for it, the problem was with the person, not with me or with opera. And my precious, beautiful shopkeeper had stated that “no discriminating other people based on their preferences” was one of the main principles of Etranger. What was I going to do by discriminating myself?
I was going to keep buying opera CDs from now on too, I swore proudly to my heart, yet secretly decided not to write about it in my blog or talk to Richard about it. Not because it was embarrassing. But rather because I had the gut feeling that I couldn’t predict what would happen in the end if I told him.
On that day, I was busy with preparations for cooking. First Saul-san, and then Richard would come to Kandy to hear the reports about the progress of my studies. It was also like a test. But I hadn’t studied half-assedly enough to chicken out at that. Above all, thanks to the negotiations in Ratnapura, I was conscious that my eyes were well-trained, if I could say so myself.
If it didn’t go well even with this, that was fine. I was happy to find new challenges. Lots of things became easier once I started feeling that studying was fun.
And since they were coming over, they wouldn’t get angry if I prepared a bit of a feast. More than anything, being able to cook a few people’s share in this house had me overjoyed. After all, I was basically living alone, so just how many times had I found delicious-looking and cheap food but had to tearfully give up because I wasn’t sure if I could eat it all by myself?
Being surrounded by things that made you happy was extremely good for the heart.
Deciding to go for an additional blow, I set the CD in the radio. A long aria began at the end of the first opus of all songs. It was a French opera called “La Fille du Régiment”, and being fond of this one had greatly helped me when I was studying French.
The man who started to sing that he was going to marry the army was a world-renowned tenor.
In the beginning, the man sang that he was going to do meritorious deeds in the army, cheered on by his companions. Since I had been listening to the words ever since back when I could only hear them as katakana spelling, my mouth moved without any reference. Of course, my voice didn’t sound like that of a tenor, but it had the same gist as somehow trying to sing in the range of a singer from some music show. Just that was fun enough.
A fish pie was baking in the oven. There were three types of curry in the smaller pots. My Nakata-style sliced veggies pickled in soy sauce, which were a mixture of chopped coconut sambal and dried fruits, were lined up on a cutting board, and the fresh fruits that I planned to make into mixed juice were all completely ready. The only thing I had left to do was preparing watalappan for dessert. It had to chill in the fridge for a while, so it was necessary to make it in advance. However, since it was my third time making it, I had the procedure memorized. No worries.
The tenor raised his voice amidst joy. The man who sang, “Ah, I’m going, I’m going to marry the army” didn’t like the army in particular, he was just in love with the abandoned girl that all the men from the regiment he was enlisted in were raising together.
The key switched to waltz. The true value of the tenor would ensue from that point onward.
The oven beeped, indicating that the pie had finished baking. With light steps, put on my gloves, took out the whole iron plate with the pie on it and gently slid it into a white porcelain plate.
A series of splendid high Cs. This referred to when the tenor raised their voice a great deal. If the composer was wonderful in reproducing the feelings of happiness into the music so keenly, then so was the singer who sang them so faithfully, I believed. The feeling of excitement turned into the melody just the way it was.
I arranged the dishes on the table and peeled the fruits. The high Cs continued one after another. I opened a can of coconut milk and mixed the contents with nut paste. The song was approaching the end. “What a fate, what a fate,” he sang, sounding merry. The highest note was near.
The song was coming to a close while celebrating happiness with the highest note. The feelings of the singer weren’t recorded in the CD, but I could hear them as comfortably as could be.
It wasn’t nearly high enough, but I sang along at a fairly loud volume.
At the same time as the song finished with a flashy grace note, I lightly kicked the open lid of the oven. It closed up neatly. With this, everything was all set. I was going to put away the CD set before the guests arrived.
Or so I had planned.
After the peak of my excitement, I noticed that someone was standing outside the window. He hadn’t come in from the front door. Hence the chime didn’t ring.
“Bravo, bravissimo.” A beautiful man wearing a white shirt and sunglasses, said glasses charmingly pushed up above his forehead, was smiling while applauding at my stiffened self.
The test was terrible that day. I didn’t think there was any issue with the contents of my answers. However, since I was stuttering so much, Saul, my mentor who was so picky about manner of speech as well as the contents of it, pointed out that I should “act more dignified”. I knew that better than anyone. There was too much noise interference in my head with things such as, “Why did I put opera on in such high spirits? What did he think of me now? As I thought, does he think that this hobby doesn’t suit me? No, that’s definitely impossible when it comes to my teacher, so I have to take control of my self-consciousness”.
And so, this is a story that happened more than half a year after that. Something that took place in Sri Lanka in May.
“Eh?”
“Happy birthday, Seigi. Here is a little present.”
“A bank deposit transfer certificate?”
“Good job reading it. That is from the USA.”
“USA...”
“There was a seat that you would probably like, so I purchased a year’s worth of it.”
“A year”? This wasn’t potato chips or cup noodles. What kind of seat was that? Was there a truck coming to deliver it? While thinking about such things, I continued reading the A4 paper, and when I got to half of it, I roared loudly. I let out a voice that sounded like a crushed frog, I believed.
The seat that Richard had given me was indeed a seat. But at a music theatre in America, which was likely the world’s most famous. It was a one-year membership card.
This was proof that “a seat will be reserved for you”. A seat just for me, for any performance, that I could use whenever I went there.
I felt lightheaded. Just how much had this “seat” cost him? What was he trying to do by giving something like this to someone who sat in swivel chairs sold at mass retailers? I did have such rational retorts in my head, but above that, I was so, so happy that I started jumping up and down. I could go to a theatre that I only knew about from CDs. Anytime, as long as I had the plane tickets. No matter who was singing.
“Can I really have this?!”
“Do you think I’m some sort of boorish lad who’d take back the treasure after making the other person happy?”
“No way! Uoooh, I’m too excited; that’s bad!”
“You are reacting like a dog again...”
“I’m gonna run in the yard for a bit!”
As I, with a messy katakana pronunciation, sang to myself the chorus part of the aria that had just finished while rolling around in the yard, Jirou ran over and mounted on me without restraint. “Owner, we’re going to play here, right? We’re going to play here, right? Come, let’s play,” he seemed to say, energetically wagging his tail. I was so happy that I hugged him and rolled about, but then I could see Richard laughing. The yard was on a slightly lower level than the house, so the house was wholly visible, so I didn’t think I was mistaken. He really was making a happy-looking face. This might have been my first time seeing that man laugh with such a child-like expression.
At that moment, something suddenly came to mind.
When Richard told me for the first time that he “likes pudding”, did he also think for a bit that it was embarrassing or wonder about what I was going to say? This man had thorough knowledge about the so-called “society”. There was no way that he hadn’t considered the possibility.
But he had told me about it.
Did I not say anything weird to him back then? “A man, liking pudding?” or “Why would a foreigner like a Japanese dessert?” It gave me the creeps. Back then, I didn’t have as much care as now regarding how to handle such circumstances. I just had words jumping out of my mouth like knives. This still applies even now, but I wanted to think it had gotten better, even if just a little.
Had I not said anything to him? Had I not hurt him? I didn’t have any way to confirm that now. If I apologized without knowing what I had said, it wouldn’t be a sincere apology.
But right now, Richard was looking at my happy self and smiling.
So I decided to stop thinking about these things. And from now on too, I would keep making heaps upon heaps of the things he liked.
I had to protect what was important to me by myself. But if I happened to notice something that mattered to someone who was dear to me, I wanted to cherish it too. I had no other choice.
After stroking Jirou, I went back to where Richard was and bowed to him again. He reciprocated the bow with a “you are welcome” and seemed about to start laughing again.
“That’s right, I was gonna make pudding. Wait just a bit more.”
“Is there anything I can help with?”
“You already got me a seat at the MET; I can’t go along with that flattery even as a joke. I’d be happy if you played with Jirou, though.”
“Then, I will take you up on those words.”
Rubbing my chest in relief, I went back to my room, patting my whole body to remove the dirt and dog hairs, and after washing my hands with soap, I returned to the kitchen.
By the looks of it, I was going to be able to listen to an opera in person one of these days – at least within a year’s time. Once I watched it live, all the curtains would close, right? For real? Was such a thing possible? Apparently yes. Hard to believe but it was true.
That man who was like an incarnation of the worldwide definition of “beauty”, and above that, who was a genius at pleasing me, was fooling around with my hybrid brown dog in the yard, illuminated by tropical sunshine. It seemed that the preparations for our feast would still take a while.
“What a wonderful day,” I hummed tentatively in French. A gorgeous tenor voice wouldn’t come out of my throat, but the things I liked would firmly support my heart nevertheless. Almost like a backbone for it. And there was someone supporting this backbone. Honestly, what a wonderful day. For now, I’d be making pudding. And share at least a little bit of this feeling.
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Hotspot | Pt.2 (Sheepish)
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Genre: Smut 
Word Count: 2739
Warning: Sub!Yangyang, (Hard)Dom!Reader, Femdom, Degradation, Profanity, Edging, Overstimulation, Humiliation (Slight exhibitionism), Hair pulling, Light face slapping (where reader is being attentive), Spanking, Gagging (Pet muzzle), Vibrating butt plug, Pet play, Leaving marks, Bondage (Pet anchor), Neglect play, Pegging, Fake cum (YY chokes on it askghkdjs), YY cries lol
A/N: Happy sort of belated birthday to our bratty Yangyang! I hope this feeds the painstaking lack of sub!Yangyang smut on this app! Fellow doms (esp if you are a hard one) enjoy!
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  “Now what?” Yangyang grins upon locking the door to your usual playroom, yet despite his cheeky attitude, you can see how his expressions begin to falter as he sees the full-fledged equipment on display on the bed.
  "What? Use your smart ass brain to think yourself, brat." You hiss. "You know what's coming, strip."
  "Why should I?" Yangyang pouts.
  "Don't make me force you. You're smart enough to know that you shouldn't test my patience, hmm?" You coldly demand as you hand him the garments he’s going to wear during the play. “Remember the spankings you owe me?” You tease his chin with the paddle that you know which intimidates him so much as he gulps with somehow anticipation and fear while busy sliding clothes off.
  “O-o-of course.” Yangyang stutters, “But why this?” He motions at the white mesh undershirt you’re handing him, which is decorated with a few white fabric flowers that slightly resemble splotches of wool on it.
  “Aren’t you Mistress’ Slutty Little Lamb?” You smirk knowingly, while helping him slide the mesh over his head. “You need to be well-prepped for the play later that is going to make you hot and bothered like the hotspot you already are…” 
  “Ugghhh.” Yangyang facepalms at the thought of the embarrassing SSID you just made him change and all the humiliation he had just endured. “No way you’re making me feel like that when you’re being this heartlessly cruel on me-”
  “Oh really?” You cock your eyebrow as you’re palming his crotch, making the smart-mouthed boy gasp in response. “Already visibly hard just putting this fabric on, I find it hard to believe that you don’t like what’s coming next.”
  You then insert the white furry tail plug inside him after some profuse lubing, before commanding him to get on his knees, securing the white choker and chain on him and giving it a firm tug.
  “Now you’d better sit and behave like a sheepish little lamb you should be or otherwise there’d be more consequences-”
  “Consequences of what? More spankings? Is that the only type of punishment you can only think of?” Yangyang’s eyes gleams with defiance while he sneers. “Why would you think I would let you boss me around just because now you have me dressed in this stupid attire?”
  You shake your head in disappointment, “I thought I could go easier on you this time, brat. “ You hiss while giving a firm tug from the roots of the boy’s hair. “Guess the humiliation play on the SSID wasn’t enough, huh?”
  “So what exactly is the consequence, huh, O Mistress?” Yangyang still retorts with a smirk despite his wincing from your pull. “Bet you could never come up with a better one other than a spanking- hngghh!”
  Yangyang’s riposte is cut short by a slap across his face, with your other hand cradling the other side of his cheek as a secure, exactly like you two had agreed on. “Now you’ve wasted your chance of winning my gentleness.” You purr menancingly into the boy’s ear while still pulling on the chain. “You want to be a sharp-tongued brat? Go ahead and be one then even with this on.”
  You reach for the pet muzzle and white leather handcuffs hidden under the sheets on the bed, after taking a mental note to thank yourself for hiding it beforehand to win over that bratty boy, you immediately secure them around his snout and wrists, rendering him into a whiny struggling mess, glaring up at you.
  “Well?” You grin as you pull hard on the chain, forcing the boy to crawl forward in a pathetically restrained manner. “Are you satisfied with this little punishment now? My cocky little brat?”
  You then command him to follow your lead, to the silver wall anchor designated for this session and make a quick effort securing the chain to it, before dishing out another pair of handcuffs, cuffing both Yangyang’s hands to his ankles, and looking back to his indignant stare.
  “Aww no use glaring at me like that, you untamed little brat.” You smirk knowingly. Just then a notification popped up on your phone, it’s from your staff team groupchat, and your supervisor has tagged you in it, in order to ask you about the details of upcoming projects of new shootings.
  “What a pleasant surprise,” You simper while waving your phone at Yangyang. “Somehow I need to answer something important, and you’d better wait up-” A jolt goes through Yangyang’s body as he lets out a weak whimper and crumbles back on his knees. “Because I conveniently forgot to remind you, that this fucking plug fucking vibrates.” You smirk while turning the vibrations to the lowest settings via your phone app to tease the boy, before hopping on the bed far enough that the boy can never reach, and going back to your phone to make discussions with your supervisor.
  In just a few minutes, Yangyang is soon trapped in a haze of unfulfilled lust, the vibrator doing vicious tricks to his sweetest spot, yet he can’t fuss with his voice and words as usual to win your attention and make you do something about it. All he can do now is to fuck his dick against the soft mattress-covered side of the bed, his head hanging on the edge of it to stare at your focused form, eyes filled with frustration.
  But you soon noticed his misbehavior with the continuous rocking of the bed. “Stop it, you perverted little brat.” You come down from the bed to make a few more ties of the chain on the anchor to make him unable to reach the bed, obviously annoyed. “You are making me unable to focus on my job.” You icily state as you switch up the vibrator to the medium settings, making the boy arch his back and lower his head, with his cock twitching vulnerably, in response. “Dare to get yourself off without my permission earns more fucked-out rounds for you, understand, you fucking little bratty lamb?”
  You try hard to focus on responding to your supervisor’s demanding questions in time and with ease without the little snorts and pathetic noises Yangyang makes beside you to have any effect on your functioning rationality. Just when waiting for the response from the groupchat, you see the sinful sight of Yangyang fidgeting and pacing on the floor, giving you the most pleading and vulnerable look he’s ever gave you, the look so meek and cute which would’ve granted him sooner release if he’d always been this obedient. Internally giving yourself a gleeful smile of triumph, you originally decide to have your way with the suffering boy underneath. But then another message from your fellow colleague, who is also one of your best friends in the work field, happens to leap onto your screen. most likely complaining about the disparity of distribution of workload, and somehow this gives you another devilish idea to torture the smart-mouthed boy now pitifully leaking and moaning beside you.
  “Want some release, huh naughty boy?” You smirk down at him, as Yangyang fervently yet shakily nods. “If you want to cum, you’d better keep your voice down so you don’t embarrass yourself, brat.” You hiss before turning to voice call your colleague via the messaging app, making Yangyang’s body jump with warning.
  Streams of complaints soon begin to flow from the other side of your phone as you pretend to be fully attentive, yet your hand is drawing circles on the tip of Yangyang’s dripping length viciously slow, as the boy can do nothing but furrow his brows, indulging in the feeling but also refraining hard to not make any form of noise.
  Just when you and your colleague are too centered on picking out the wrongdoings of your supervisor, you can tell from the expressions of your boy that he’s close to his release, so you suddenly slip your hand away from Yangyang’s throbbing cock, making the boy whimper out loud of loss in response. Mortified by the sound he makes, he intends to back away, yet you just scoot even closer to him, simpering at his mishap.
  And of course, that sound didn’t go unnoticed by your friend, as she inquires about the whatabouts of it, while you just leisurely replies it’s just a loud grunt someone makes whist chit-chattering outside your window as if your other hand isn’t stained with your boyfriend’s pre-cum right now.
  The adding humiliation is making Yangyang blushing, sweating and radiating with heat of arousal, yet his inability to speak, move or even whine out is a plus-one to the exhilaration of the whole thing. Just when he thinks he’s going to combust due to the opprobrium, thankfully your friend decides to hang up and leave the playtime for the two of you.
  “Isn’t that fun?” You knowingly grin as you’re pumping his length teasingly slow. "You finally get to pay for trying to fluster me in public so many times?" You mockingly inquire as you lean closer to him. “Say, do you truly want to cum?” 
  The boy pitifully nods again but is soon held back by you grasping on his shoulder and a motion of shush. “Okay okay I get it, but you would’ve looked much more beautiful cumming whilst getting fucked like an animal and punished like a bad little boy…now bend over” You devilishly grin as you reach for the paddle and take out the plug, making the boy whine out at the sense of loss, as you press down on his back, rendering him into an ass-up position.
  “Since you can’t count with your snout secured like that…how about you count out every spank with the movements of your butt? Hmm? Isn’t that a unique kind of punishment, you bratty little lamb?” You sneer as you’re tapping the paddle on his ass, hand still pressing hard down on his back. “Looks like I am able to conjure up with other forms of punishment aside from spanking judging from what you just endured huh? Now count until 40.”
  You then land a loud snap on his rear, as Yangyang, now desperate to end the ordeal, can do nothing but swivel his ass in a vertical movement, as if writing the number 1. “What a good little lamb...” You compliment as you land another smack on him, as your boyfriend soon writes the number 2 with his rear in response, while your hand comes down to soothe his rear that starts to reddishly glow, and plays with his cock from time to time.
  Spank after spank is Yangyang getting tearier and more humiliated, the sense of sting and restraints overwhelming him as you can’t help but kiss away the trickles of salty liquid. Finally reaching the fortieth spank, without much protest from your boyfriend, surprisingly, you decide to give him some physical pleasure he deserves.
  “Finally remorseful for talking back and being a nuisance, huh?” You inquire coquettishly while combing your fingers through his hair to comfort him down, at least a little. “Now, shall I fuck and pleasure your every possible orifice like an insatiable little lamb you are now hmm?”
  You quickly equip yourself with your squirting strap-on before releasing the muzzle off Yangyang’s face, just to immediately slam the dildo into his mouth. “Slick my cock that I am going to fuck you with with that filthy mouth of yours.” You gleefully command. “I’m gonna cleanse that brattiness out of my precious little lamb until he’s sorry and there’s no trace of it…” You smirk in delight as you resume fucking his face.
  Tears threaten to stream down Yangyang’s face again as you are roughing his mouth up while grabbing his head close to you, whilst attentively looking for any signs of distress or the safety gesture Yangyang would use if it’s going too much. After making sure there’s no warning signs from the boy, you decide to press onto the balls on the dildo to release some of the fake cum you had loaded in it beforehand, making the boy messily cough out in response as his mouth is filled with the lewd edible white liquid.
  “Such a filthy yet beautiful sight to see…” You praise the boy as you give him gentle headpats as he’s recovering from the choke. “Now, should I get to fuck the horny ass of my cute little lamb, hmm?”
  Not waiting for your boy to respond, you immediately grab your dark red lipstick with you, putting a generous shade of it on, holding it for later purposes as you begin thrusting into him after some necessary lubing again. Soon slick skin slapping sounds and Yangyang’s moans echo in the room, as you start bending down and kissing him on his sweetest sensitive spots, leaving red marks behind, as if claiming your precious boy yours.
  “Look at you, moaning and melting beneath my thrusts like this, you are truly a slutty little lamb aren’t you?”
  “No-ahh!” Yangyang’s retort is cut short by a harsh slap on his ass again.
  “No? Then I’m afraid this hard thing wouldn’t be granted any release too soon…” You mock disappointment in your voice.
  “Hannhh no… please I’m your little slut okay...your...hahhh,,,your little slutty lamb...mmmphh…” 
  “That’s my precious little lamb…” You compliment again as you toy with the hem of the mesh a couple of times, just to pool it at his shoulders to reveal his bare torso, and then you uncap your dark red lipstick, writing “Mistress’ Slutty Little Lamb” on his body, before leaning down to plant a kiss on his shoulder again and stroking his cock, while resuming pounding into him hard.
  You notice Yangyang is nearing his climax when his breathing accelerates into a ragged pattern. “Beg, my pretty little lamb, beg. Why is my smart-mouthed brat lost of words now?” 
  “Please, Mistress, make me cum...pleeaasseee…”
  “Good boy…” You coo as you fervently give him a few generous pumps, allowing hot spurts of white shoots ejaculating out of his cock. But while Yangyang thinks he’s escaped the ordeal, he doesn’t realize what you still have in store of him until he finds that your hand is still vehemently pumping his cock.
  Pain soon invades his body as his attempts to struggle away from your firm grip are proved futile. “I thought you said you want me to make you cum, isn’t it, my cute little lamb?” You chortle out ruthlessly.
  “Nonononono not like this…” Yangyang stammers out.
  “So you promise you would never talk back to me anymore?”
  “Y-yes for God’s sake!”   “You promise you would never ever try to make lame sexual jokes and attempt to fluster me in public?”
  “Yes p-please stop…” Yangyang practically wails out as he feels his next orgasm mixed with pain is nearing him.
  “You sure you would be my good little slutty pet lamb and only for me to use and play with?”
  “Y-yesss anything! P-pleeasseee!” Yangyang sobs as his whole body quivers at the overwhelming pleasure and affliction, as you finally grant him the second release that shudders through his whole body.
  “Finally, our sharp-tongued brat has learned his lesson, hasn’t he? Hmm? My sweetie boy…” You coo as you give gentle rubs on his head as Yangyang gradually comes down from his high, his breathing dropping back to normal again.
  “Why is my Mistress this cruel…” Yangyang meekly sobs while he leans into your chest, basking into the warmth of it.
  “Yet you love it,” You retort. “and plus you’re being the defiant one first here I’m-”
  “Shhh we’ve already spent most of our time having heated arguments, why should we ruin this perfect afterglow moment with those stupid fights?” Yangyang grins while still nuzzling your chest, making you feel absolutely fulfilled. “Save the bickering for later lol.”
  “Instant recovery, huh?” You can’t help but remark as you savor the moments of bliss where Yangyang is finally being a meek obedient boy nestled on your chest. As you are undoing his restraints, Yangyang asks, “What did you write on my back?”
  “Of course, your first SSID I made you change.” 
  “Ugghh you bossy...nevermind save that for later.” Yangyang bites back his riposte as he cuddles up close to you on the bed.
  You smile while embracing your now cutesy little lamb, glad that there’s finally a moment of peace and truce between you two. 
╚══════════════╝ 
Tagging: @wildernessuntothemselves​ because she’s Yangyang biased lmao
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A chatty writing update | novels, short fiction, etc!
Hi folks!
It’s been a while since I last wrote an update on this blog! I thought it’d be fun to go back to basics, and just talk about writing. This post chats about: new plans for Feeding Habits, my newest novel, my short story goals & growing collection, along with process reflections.
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(image description: a photo of green leaves with the text “writing update” in a white font written on top. /end image description)
Post starts under the cut!
General taglist (please ask to be added or removed)
@if-one-of-us-falls, @qatarcookie, @chloeswords, @alicewestwater, @laughtracksonata, @shylawrites, @ev–writes, @jaydewritesfiction, @jennawritesstories @eowynandfaramir, @august-iswriting, @aetherwrites, @avakrahn, @maisulli
What have I been up to?
For starters, I finished my second year of my Writing undergrad last week and got two of my final grades back today (A+ baby)! For anyone who has taken online university, y’all already KNOW, but this year was so difficult. Would not recommend! Really proud of myself to have gotten through this absolute rollercoaster of a school term and am excited to get into some writing. That leads us to:
What have I been up to (writing edition)?
2021 started off so fast. By the time January hit, I was so consumed in my new semester that I did not have time to write Feeding Habits (my novel). In the first few days of the term, I managed to write between class, until I could no longer keep up! Essentially, I did not write any of that novel until exam season (last week), where I did manage to get in about 3k words in ~4 days.
Feeding Habits
I’m currently drafting what I believe will be the last chapter of this book (chapter 10: Swan Song). This chapter is so bizarre for a few reasons. It begins the book’s third part and also marks the shift back into Lonan’s head from Harrison’s. I originally thought this part would be much, much longer, with at least another five chapters to go, but quickly realized the book’s content was nearly completed. In my 4 day 3k palooza, I hit 50k in the book (the word count goal), and couldn’t see myself extending past 60k. Since then, I’ve made the loose decision to write this final chapter as a ~novella. Here are a few reasons why:
1. This chapter is structurally very strange.
I unashamedly shift from present to past to present to past past, and so much more every 12 words. I mapped out the timeline on a sheet of paper, and there were over 20 shifts in scenes (the chapter is only about 4400 words at the moment). The fictive past is incredibly important to this chapter, more important than the present, and I thought it would make more sense to not break randomly for a chapter so I could upkeep the consistent inconsistency of the chapter.
2. The chapter is very abstract
This stems from the structural changes, but there are paragraphs in this chapter of the fictive present that are loosely based in reality. They’re more poems than they are factual paragraphs, and keeping them all contained in one place (so a mega chapter/ novella) would reduce the most confusion!
3. There’s not much left to cover
Like I said above, Feeding Habits is on its last leg, lol! I know exactly where the book needs to end up, which is very, very soon from where I’m currently at on the timeline. Swan Song should cover what 2-4 chapters would cover in terms of arcs.
Feeding Habits and I have a really weird relationship, tbh! When I realized a few weeks ago that it’d been over a year since I started the book, I realized I just needed to finish it. Not that I want to rush (because I’ve taken longer than a year to write a book in the past), but that in order to move onto another project, I’d like to put this one behind first. This book has been the hardest thing I’ve ever written, and has reminded me there’s always a time to let go. This sort of scrounges up a conversation about letting this entire series go, which is certainly something I’ve been contemplating doing soon(ish). If this spinoff series gets a third book, that may or may not be the last Fostered book for a very long time (or ever)! There are many complex reasons to move on, but the main one is that I have other projects I’d like to focus on. This is not a definitive decision, but something I’ve certainly been thinking about!
Here are a few excerpts I wrote recently:
(TW: death, gore)
Dying feels like being a trout dangled out of water. Clinging to a hook. Mouth open. Scales iridescent in a final death cry. It’s like blood spurting up the knuckles, drowning out the flesh. It’s that moment on the long fall down when the clouds cup the body. Easy drifting. The sound a skull makes when it cracks is really just the afterthought.
(TW: death, gore)
Kill shot. Death blow. Coup de grace. Right in the heart. He feels it. The blood swelling, slicking his palms. He can do it. Reach into the cavity. Feel for the ribs. Part each bone. Then cup the humming heart. Stay there. Right. It’s never been easier.
Look at this PURE moment of Lonan holding a baby I CANNOT:
The grocery store was a fifteen-minute walk away. With Olivia clinging to his shoulder, Lonan was acutely aware that she could feel his heartbeat. Open valve. Close. Repeat. Hers pulsed right above his, a miniature drumming. The sky had bruised purple, misted with clouds. The evening air nipped his cheeks, so he made sure Olivia was securely fastened between him and his jacket. With wide eyes, she absorbed the drowsy suburbia, all its family cars pulling into driveways, all its couples heading back home after a sunset walk. When Lonan passed a young boy walking two golden retrievers, Olivia giggled, and didn’t stop, even after he’d spent fifty dollars on groceries and nearly the rest on a red Corolla marked with a MUST GO NOW sign outside a convenience store.
Let’s move on!
Mandy and Cora
I said I wouldn’t talk too much about this project, but I just love it so much?? I wanted to share my SUPER early thoughts on drafting a novel, especially one that is SO different from what I’ve been writing recently. I talked about this before in THIS post, but the summary about this project is that it’s a YA contemporary novel! Can’t believe I’m writing YA again, it’s been so long, but I also think it’s going so well. Everything I’ve learned as a literary fiction writer has been a fantastic primer for transferring back to the genre. Admittedly, I have not written much, but I’m having a lot of fun diving back into a lighter project. This is the summary:
Cora and Mandy are identical twins who’ve always done everything together. But when Mandy decides to go to university out of province after graduation and Cora doesn’t, Cora takes this as an opportunity to “test run” life apart from her sister for the first time by spending the summer at her aunt’s house across the country.
I have come up with a few ~things since I last talked about this project, mostly how I’d like to structure it. As of now, I’d like the book to be structured super loosely. I’m really pulling on a lot of inspo from “We Are Okay” by Nina LaCour (which is SO good), particularly how “nothing happens-y” that book is. This project (which I still need a title for!!) will be structured in short chapters that cover something Cora does on her own for the first time (without Mandy). For example, a few ideas are “Flight”, “Lunch”, and “Groceries”. “Flight” is the first “chapter” (they’re really kind of vignettes) where Cora flies to her aunt’s house. I still can’t determine if this book will take place in Canada. On one hand, I feel like there will be a wider audience if it takes place in the US (is that just an assumption??? maybe?? someone let me know!), but also: don’t really care too much about an audience at the moment! It could also take place in Canada (So Ontario and British Columbia). But if it does take place in the US, I think it may take place in NYC and San Francisco. The problem is: I really don’t like researching lol, and while I’ve been to NYC many times, I will definitely write it wrong! Does this really matter on a first draft?? absolutely not lol, but of course I am already overthinking!
But back to structure: I am looking forward to seeing what this looser structure will do. This is a story that is solely around one half of a set of twins learning to be her own person (and ultimately that she doesn’t have to completely forget her sister in order to do that), and as a twin who KNOWS this feeling, I think this structure of her doing things for the first time is SUPER relatable.
I was worried it might sound silly/worrying to others who are not twins that Cora hadn’t done things like “lunch” or “groceries” on her own, but I feel this so much as an identical twin myself! Not that she hasn’t done anything at all by herself, but as a twin, when you do something without your twin for the first few times, at least in my experience, you notice. If any twins are reading this--weigh in!
This story is the most personal thing I’ve ever written. It definitely is an OwnVoices book! Usually, I avoid details that are remotely similar to me because they make me uncomfortable haha, but with this book, it’s all me, lol! The characters are all Guyanese, which is SO fun because I’ve been planning what they eat (my fellow Caribbean peeps know: the FOOD!), which is so fun (yes they have pumpkin and shrimp, yes they have roti, yes they have pera, yes they have mithai). Every time I’ve gone to dabble at this book, or even think about it, I get incredibly emotional for this reason? I don’t exactly know why. I think this is a story I just so want to tell, with the culture I love SO much that I definitely struggled to love as a child. This is reclamation bitchessss!
Not going to lie tho: the prospect of writing ~a book~ is kind of freaky! I’m going to make the minimum word count for this book pretty short (50k) and see where it goes from there. I think I will focus on this project this summer! Originally I was going to write a literary novel this summer, but I think this one’s calling my name!
Here’s a pretty rough excerpt:
Try. I remind myself that’s what I’m doing after the flight attendant fills me a disposable cup of Coca Cola and all I can think of is Mandy and I shoving Mentos into a bottle of the stuff when we were twelve. Just me, wedged in the middle seat between an exchange student heading out for summer break and a middle-aged woman sipping a cocktail, thinking of Mandy and I bursting whole oranges in a blender when we were bored one Winter break as the plane dips through a wave of turbulence. Mandy and I dying our hair neon green with highlighters (didn’t work—our hair is too dark) as the plane lands on the tarmac. Mandy and I arguing so loud last month, we both lost our voices as I lug my carry-on out of the overhead compartment and shuffle off the plane and through the airport, searching for Aunt Vel.
Short Fiction
I’ve written so much short fiction this year! I have a goal to write a short story a month (they can range in length, as long as 1 is “complete”), so my short story brain has seriously been soaking it all up lately. Let’s chat my month to month breakdown so far:
January:
I wrote four stories in January! The first is a flash fiction piece called “Shark Swimming” that follows a young woman who attends a shark swimming class after breaking up with her girlfriend. I wrote this story for a “test” workshop for my fiction class, and it was based off the prompt “think about something you’re afraid to do and make the character do that thing”. I’m not particularly afraid of sharks, but had been wanting to use the title “Shark Swimming” for AGES (literally since 2018).
This story is one of my favourites. It’s only about 900 words, but I think there’s something profound in how mundanely specific it is. The entire story doesn’t even see the narrator swim with sharks once; it actually takes place fully in the sanctuary’s lobby. But I really love this narrator. This is the first story I’ve written in second person in a while, though I felt really connected to the unnamed narrator. She struggles with accepting that she truly is a “boring” person, and there’s something about the final image that really gets me!
I’ve been submitting this around, though it’s been rejected a handful of times. Hoping I can secure it at a magazine one day because I really love it!
The second story is “Joanne, I’ll Pray for You” which is actually a rewrite of one of my very first short stories (the first story I did not write for a class haha), “NYC in Your Apartment”. I LOVE this rewrite a lot, and also learned the original is not a very good short story! Revising this story taught me just how much I’ve learned in the 2 years I’ve been writing short fiction. Seeing the 2019 version versus the 2021 version side by side is fascinating because I essentially “gutted’ the 2019 version of its beginning and end until all that was left was the middle of the story (aka the actual story). AKA: this is the only story I’ve ever written with a hopeful ending and I cut out all the happy bits lol I am SO sorry (that arc is more for a novel or novella). That’s how this went from a 5k word story to an 1800 word story (my Submittable thanks me for this lol). A lot of details and scenes I included were more pertinent to a 3 act structure/novel, which of course short stories don’t often have because of their brevity. I love rambling about writing theory, and seeing that actually pay off is so fascinating!
(TW: trauma)
Like the original, this story follows Joanne, a woman in her early twenties, who spontaneously breaks up with her boyfriend. She claims the poltergeist haunting her drove her to this decision. The original draft focused a lot more on the traumatic events Joanne survives, but this draft really loosens them up. It focuses less so on the events themselves, and more on how Joanne’s life is affected. I found the details of these events were less important, and even sort of contradicted Joanne’s insistence she is being haunted. Instead, the poltergeist really takes more precedence in the new draft as a force Joanne doesn’t understand. That ambiguity, I think, is what the story truly needed.
I also centralized Joanne’s relationship with her boyfriend, Julian, here. Now don’t get me wrong, I really didn’t add anything to this draft. It was a matter of trimming the fat around it to leave the lean “meat” in the centre. But by removing that fat, I was able to emphasize what was most important here, and that was her relationship. Julian always played a really big role in the original draft, but I feel like his role as both a friend and partner to Joanne is much more emphasized since this draft literally is only two scenes now. Because there is less, there is more room for Joanne to reflect, which I’m happy about!
A final change I made was the setting and therefore the title. The original, which was “NYC in Your Apartment,” I couldn’t keep because I shifted the setting to Toronto (this is how I originally saw it, but in 2019 I just?? couldn’t?? write?? canlit??), and “Toronto in Your Apartment” sounded sort of gross LOL. The new title comes from a line in the story which I think is more relevant to the themes!
The next short story I wrote in January was “How to Spell Alpaca.” This one is super fun because I wrote it SO fast (in about 15 minutes or so). THIS is the writing update if you’re interested in learning more. I talked extensively about this one in that update, but some developments are that I dove into an edit a few weeks ago to really understand the core of the story. I’m still not quite there (this is just an intuitive feeling; I know not everything has “clicked), but I am really intrigued by the two mothers in the story, the narrator, and her newfound acquaintance, Violet. Both really struggle to understand their place as mothers (the narrator even declares she isn’t a mother anymore). The narrator, who is in her 50s, sees herself in Violet, who is much younger (~20s), and so she views Violet’s relationship with her daughter in a cautionary, yet mournful way, like she can see it will end up like her own relationship with her daughter, despite wanting the opposite. This is a really subtle story. I feel like if you blink, you’ll miss the message. But I think it’s compelling for that reason. It’s really a portrait of parenting and how to grapple with mistakes you may make that inevitably affect your children. Wow just unlocked the theme writing this lol.
The final story I wrote in January is “The Party,” which may be in my top 3 faves I’ve ever written. This story follows Aida, a recent divorcee in her ~40s. The day her divorce turns official, she moves into a new house and receives a party invitation addressed to the previous homeowner, yet RSVP’s anyway. At this party, she’s hoping to find some sense of noticeability, having struggled with being nondescript her whole life. Things seem quite normal at the party, until it gets bizarre.
I LOVE this story, y’all. Like “How to Spell Alpaca” it really delves into motherhood. Aida, our narrator, is incredibly hurt after her divorce. She now lives farther from her children she struggled to feel connected to in the first place, and doesn’t really know how to reignite her life. This party is a means to do that. This is the first story I’ve written that contains a “twist” which is strange because I really prefer stories that give us as much info as possible upfront, but yes, this one sort of twists.
February
I wrote one story in February, and that was “Protect the Young.” This title is SO changing when I think of a new one because it’s thematically incorrect, haha, but this story follows a woman in her late 40s whose daughter, Lindy, announces she is married the same day all their backyard chickens turn up dead. The discovery of dead chickens prompts our narrator to recall her ex-husband’s murder and the role her daughter may have played in his death.
I love this story so much! I think this would make a great closing for my short story collection. It just has that vibe! I wrote this for my second fiction workshop. I thought I had to hand in the story a week earlier than I had to, so I panicked and wrote this in one sitting! Little did I know, I did not need to do that lol but I’m very happy because this story is so fun. We get to learn more about Arnold (her ex), his relationship with Lindy, and how that translates to Lindy’s relationship with her new husband, Malcolm. I LOVE true crime (I listen to about 3-4 hours of case coverage daily), and this is my first “true crime” story. Because of that, I’m very sus of a few details that probably wouldn’t slide in actual investigatory work, so I’ll also be working on that in a revision. My professor also gave me a great suggestion that may alter the story’s structure a bit, though I look forward to toggling with it in the future.
March
In March, I was really on a Criminal Minds kick lol. I’ve been watching this show since I was seven (oops), and dove into a rewatch since it hit Disney+! This story, “Where to Run When the Lamb Roars,” is very clearly Rachel watching 5 episodes of CM a day. Oops! We follow 14-year-old Astrid as she and her older half brother kidnap a young girl to sacrifice for their yearly ritual.
I knew a few things going into this story, but the main thing was that I did NOT want to show any details of a potential murder (if one even occurs). I really wanted to keep all of those elements off the page because this story is not about those events, but about Astrid’s relationship with her brother. They are a murderous duo, with Astrid actually being the dominant partner. I wanted to explore that. I knew her brother, Fox, was more of a submissive partner in their team, even when he used to do this same thing with his father when he was much younger (chilling!), and so it was a task to explore how this young girl’s desire for violence works. The end actually comes right before the story starts, one could say, but I like it for this reason. It really made me contemplate the story by the time I finished it, and helped me examine what it really was about versus what it appeared to be about.
April
(TW: sexual content, non explicit)
I was so busy this month! Who knows if I’ll write a story last minute, but I did write one story this month called “Five Times Fast.” I wrote this during a “writing sprint” that was being hosted at a flash fiction workshop I recently took with one of my favourite writers ever, K-Ming Chang. I learned so much from this class, and am so happy I came out of it with a draft! This story is just over 300 words, so the shortest flash I’ve ever written, but I’m really happy with it. It was based off the prompt “describe the last time you or your character was naked.” In this case, the narrator has a “friends with benefits” relationship with Ricky who works at a laundromat. This story highlights a moment in this relationship (and also Ricky’s goofy personality lol). I really like it! Hopefully I’ll submit it to some magazines soon.
My short story collection
Very briefly I wanted to touch on my short story collection which I’ve titled “She is Also Dead.” I’ve been meaning to make a blog post on this, so look out for that in the coming months, but this collection is already at around 35k words (about 14 stories so far). The collection also surprisingly has a solid amount of flash fiction which is kind of fun! There’s definitely a range here, which is what I personally love in short story collections.
I feel very professional now that I have a ~collection chart. This is her:
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(image description: A chart with the title “She is Also Dead.” It is broken into four columns: Story, Status, Word Count, and Published. Entry 1 - Story: Slaughter the Animal. Status: Revisions, Word Count, 3982, Published: N/A. Entry 2 - Story: Joanne, I’ll Pray for You, Status: Polished, Word Count: 1809, Published: N/A. Entry 3 - Story: Primary Organs, Status: Published, Word Count: 2342, Published: The Malahat Review. Entry 4 - Story: Faberge, Status, Polished, Word Count: 619, Published: N/A. Entry 5 - Story: The Wolf-Antelope Will Not Come for Us, Status, Polished, Word Count: 1556, Published: filling Station (forthcoming). Entry 6 - Story: How to Spell Alpaca, Status: revisions, Word Count: 1327, Published: N/A. Entry 7 - Story: Blink Twice for Final Judgement, Status: Polished, Word Count: 6572, Published: N/A. Entry 8 - Story: The Species is Dead, Status: Published, Word Count: 1208, Published: Minola Review. Entry 9 - Story: Shark Swimming, Status: Polished, Word Count: 907, Published: N/A. Entry 10 - Story: The Party, Status, Polished, Word Count 2339, Published: N/A. Entry 11 - Story: Fig, Status: Polished, Word Counter: 947, Published: N/A. Entry 12 - Story: Protect the Young, Status: Revisions, Word Count: 4128, Published: N/A. Entry 13 - Story: Where to Run When the Lamb Roars, Status: Revisions, Word Count: 2174, Published: N/A. Entry 14 - Story: Phantom Limbs, Status: Revisions, Word Count: 4844, Published: N/A.) /end image description.
This order is DEFINITELY not permanent (at this point whenever I write a story, I just fit it randomly into this chart lol), and some of the info is outdated (for example, Slaughter the Animal is now polished!!! thank god!!!). But just an idea of what I’m thinking of including.
This is the summary so far:
In SHE IS ALSO DEAD, characters are pushed to act on their gravest impulses. A small town turns murderous when their local invasive species, the Janices, begin dying. A child struggles to understand her mother’s suicide. A college dropout who insists she’s being haunted by a poltergeist unexpectedly breaks up with her boyfriend. A mother acknowledges her daughter’s murderous tendencies after her backyard chickens mysteriously die. A young girl caters the funeral of a girl rumored to be killed by a wolf-antelope. A newly-divorced mother RSVP’s to a bizarre party she was not invited to, and a murderous brother and sister upkeep their yearly tradition of abducting a young girl. These stories follow characters who navigate death, violent desires, womanhood, and loss, both self-imposed and otherwise.
This is also so subject to change as I may pull and add stories to the collection!
I think I’m going to leave this update here for now! I’ve written TONS of poetry too, but I honestly ~hate my poetry right now lol, so! Hope you enjoyed this chill rambly update. Hope writing has going well for you all! All the best!
--Rachel
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pretchatta · 3 years
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swoon june day 13: first kiss
rating: general; kanan jarrus/hera syndulla; 1350 words
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Hera heaved herself over the ledge and sat down heavily on the rocky surface. The slight breeze that reached her up here was pleasantly cool compared to the humid air below. Leaning forwards, she rested her elbows on her knees as she caught her breath, gladly accepting the respite from her relatively short but steep climb. The view wasn’t bad either.
Spread out below her was several miles of greenish-brown swampland that gently steamed in the heat from the single sun, now at its peak in the teal sky. Here and there the waterlogged terrain was punctured by ridges of red rock that jutted towards the sky and were crowned with wisps of low cloud. It was one of these that she now climbed, up to the crest where the Ghost awaited her return.
Another cradled the target of Hera’s mission to this planet amongst its craggy outcrops. The old Republic waystation had been built during the Clone Wars as a convenient refueling location along a well-travelled hyperspace lane, but now the Empire controlled it. The addition of a communications dish turned it into a strategic base to boost transmissions to more distant sectors of the galaxy, but also an irresistible target for the people she worked for.
Hera’s hand felt for the dataspike in her pocket. Chopper had infiltrated the waystation a week ago to install it and it now held a copy of all the data that had passed through the station since. Transport manifests of the ships that had stopped here, communications that had been redirected, transmissions that had been relayed to other divisions of the Imperial fleet – Hera was eager to look through it all. That wasn’t the only reason she was keen to get back to the Ghost quickly, though.
Her journey through the base to recover Chopper’s dataspike had taken her past the refuelling hangar, where she’d spotted something that had wrenched at her heart. A prisoner transport, its hatch open and its hold packed with people in chains.
Twi’lek people. Her people.
Even from a distance, Hera had seen how their shoulders had been slumped in acceptance of their grim situation. They were the Empire’s slaves now, like so many of their people, and there was nothing they could do about it.
Though she knew the data she was extracting would help them locate and liberate many, many ships’ worth of such people, it ripped her apart to leave them behind. All through her trek back through the muddy swamp she had been turning their plight over in her mind, trying to think of how she could help them. Maybe if the Ghost could intercept the transport as it left the planet, they could grab the prisoners and get them to safety...
Her haste meant nothing if all of her crew weren’t back, however, which was why she was allowing herself a break. Kanan would still be behind her, as disabling the internal surveillance would have taken him to the far side of the base so he had further to travel to get back. Neither that fact nor her aching legs stopped her from wanting to keep going.
She settled for pulling out her comm once she had enough breath to speak.
"Kanan? Where are you?"
She absently reached up to wipe the sweat beading on her brow, but grimaced a moment later as she realised she’d smeared mud over her forehead and down one cheek. She felt like she was bringing most of the swamp up with her, caked up her legs almost to her waist.
"Just starting to climb the ridge now,” crackled his reply. With all the moisture in the air the signal wasn’t great. “This mud doesn’t exactly make things easier."
She wholeheartedly agreed with him, but it didn’t make her less impatient. "How fast can you get up here? I got the data but the sooner we leave, the better."
A burst of static sounded like a panting breath. “Couldn’t agree more. I’ll see what I can do.”
There was a pause, and then she heard a grunt of effort through the comm, followed by a soft yelp.
“Kanan?” she asked with concern. “Are you okay?”
There was another grunt before he replied. “Did I mention that I’m covered in mud? Everything’s so slippery.”
“Do not fall off this rock. I don’t think I could carry you if you broke a leg,” she warned him.
“Nah, I think you could. But if you’re sure, I can carry you instead.”
Hera could almost hear the suave grin in his voice. She rolled her eyes.
“And increase your chances of falling? I don’t think so.”
She allowed herself a small smile that Kanan couldn’t see through the comm. She’d never tell him that she secretly liked the flirty banter, or the way he sometimes looked at her. She had to keep their relationship professional for the sake of the cause she fought for, even if sometimes she wanted to do the exact opposite, so all he received in return was firm but gentle resistance.
"This is the same contact that gave us the narglatch job, right?" he asked after a few minutes of silence.
"Yes, why?"
"I don't think we should take jobs from this guy any more. I don’t like them."
"Vizago always has work and always pays fairly,” she explained patiently, “we’re not passing that up. Besides, I'm the captain here, I'll decide whose jobs we-"
She was cut off by the distant sound of a ship's engine. Her heart sank as she watched the prisoner transport from the hangar emerge from the waystation and steadily climb into the upper atmosphere. It disappeared into the clouds with no-one to stop it.
She wasn’t sure how long she’d been staring at the sky for when Kanan’s voice came from beside her.
"Hera?"
"There were twi'lek slaves on that ship,” she said distantly. “I know the ship’s flight path and destination will be in this data, but... I hoped we'd be out fast enough to save them before it left." She could hear the longing and disappointment in her voice.
"Uh, yeah, so about that ship…” Kanan began, and something in his voice made her finally turn around to focus on him. He was shifting his feet nervously and rubbing at the back of his neck with one hand. “I noticed it from the surveillance center. And I might have, uh, stopped by on the way back and… liberated the prisoners. And promised them a ride."
He was looking at her nervously. His mind was stuck on the time she’d told him “you don’t get to invite anyone onto my ship without my permission”. Her mind was stuck on “liberated the prisoners”.
Hera continued to stare at him in amazement as he continued. "They're heading for the other side of the mountain – if we can get the Ghost around there quickly we can meet them before the Imperials realise they're gone. I think one or more of them is sick, but we've still got those black market medical supplies we haven't delivered yet, and I'm sure we can skim something off the top-"
Hera had stopped listening several words ago. The feelings of gratitude, affection and awe had reached a bursting point in her chest and before she could realise what she was doing, her hands found his face and whatever he was saying was cut off as her mouth met his.
For a moment, nothing existed except the press of his lips. His skin was hot under her touch, and despite his surprise, his mouth moved automatically against hers. The gentle brush of his tongue against her lower lip sent sparks shooting through her belly and made her gasp, enough to break the kiss.
Her breathing was heavy again, and she felt slightly dizzy. From the dazed look in Kanan’s eyes, he wasn’t doing much better. It was the mud now smeared over one side of his face that reminded her of their current situation and stopped her from going back for more.
“We need to move fast if we’re going to get to them first. Come on!”
She grabbed his hand and pulled him up the mountain behind her.
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thedisneychef · 10 months
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Are Overnight Oats Recipes Healthy and Easy to Make?
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Hey everyone! I'm here to talk about overnight oats recipes. If you're looking for a delicious breakfast that's easy to make and packed with nutrients, then this is the recipe for you. Overnight oats are super convenient as they require little prep time and can be made ahead of time - perfect if you're short on time in the morning. In this article, I'll give an overview of what they are and why they're so great. Let's get started! Maybe You Also Like: - Are Recipe Boxes Worth It? Exploring Meal Subscription Services - Are Recipes Copyrighted Or Patented - Are Recipes For Making Proteins What Are Overnight Oats? I'm sure you've heard of overnight oats by now, but do you know what they are? Well, let me tell you! Overnight oats is a quick and easy breakfast that's made the night before. All you need to do is measure out your favorite rolled oats with some liquid, like milk or yogurt, along with any added ingredients like fruit or nuts. You mix it up and leave it in the fridge overnight so all the flavors can come together for an amazing morning meal. The great thing about overnight oats is that you can customize them however you'd like - just add whatever toppings you love best! Maybe some fresh berries on top or crunchy almonds? The possibilities are endless! And don't worry if you're not sure how much of each ingredient to use — there are plenty of recipes online that will help guide your measuring skills. Overnight oats really make life easier as they require minimal effort while providing maximum flavor and nutrition. So why wait until tomorrow when you could enjoy this delicious breakfast today? Give it a try and see for yourself! Benefits Of Eating Overnight Oats Eating overnight oats is a simple and delicious way to nourish your body and save time. Not only are they easy to prepare, but they’re also nutrient dense. Overnight oats provide you with healthy carbohydrates, fiber, as well as protein and fat for sustained energy throughout the day. The best part about eating overnight oats is that it requires minimal preparation. All you have to do is put all of the ingredients together in a jar or bowl the night before and let them sit overnight so that they can soften up and absorb liquid. In the morning, simply add any additional toppings like fresh fruit, nuts or seeds -- then grab-and-go! This makes it an ideal meal option if you're short on time during busy mornings. Overnight oats offer many health benefits from providing essential nutrients such as vitamins A, B complex, C and E; minerals like calcium, zinc, magnesium and iron; antioxidants; probiotics; omega 3 fatty acids; prebiotic fibers; plus other beneficial compounds like polyphenols which aid digestion. So not only does this tasty breakfast save you time in the morning – it's incredibly nutritious too! Tips For Making Overnight Oats I love making overnight oats for an easy and healthy breakfast! When it comes to choosing ingredients, I always go for rolled oats and some type of dairy-free milk, like almond or coconut milk. Preparing the oats is simple - just mix the oats and milk together in a bowl or jar, and let it sit in the fridge overnight. When it comes to toppings and add-ins, I like to mix in some fresh or frozen fruit, nut butter, chia seeds and a sprinkle of cinnamon for a delicious and nutritious breakfast. There's so many possibilities with overnight oats - have fun and get creative! Choosing Ingredients When it comes to making overnight oats, one of the most important steps is choosing your ingredients. Depending on how much time you have for soaking, there are a few different options to consider when selecting what type and amount of ingredients should be included in your recipe. If you're short on time, quick-cooking steel cut oatmeal will work best as they only require 5 minutes of soaking time; however, if you've got some extra time on your hands then rolled or old fashioned oats can be used instead. In terms of flavor combinations, you really do have endless options here! You could create something sweet by adding fruit such as blueberries and banana slices along with a couple tablespoons of honey or maple syrup; alternatively, if savory is more your style try mixing in an egg, shredded cheese and/or cooked vegetables like spinach. To make sure these flavors don't overpower each other though I would recommend trying out no more than three main components per bowl. To sum it up: when preparing overnight oats always remember that the key is to find balance between flavor profiles so that all the individual ingredients shine through without competing against each other. Preparing Oats Now that you've got your ingredients sorted out, it's time to prepare the oats for soaking overnight. First things first: make sure your oats are stored properly so they stay fresh and retain their texture. The best way to do this is by putting them in an airtight container or zip-lock bag and storing them in a cool, dry place such as a pantry or cupboard. When it comes to actually cooking the oats, there are several techniques you can use depending on what type of consistency and flavor you're aiming for. For example, if you want something creamy then try boiling the oats with milk instead of water. Alternatively, if something more hearty is preferred then consider using a slow cooker to simmer the oats overnight. Whatever technique you decide on just remember that the goal here is to achieve a slightly softened but still chewy oat texture! Toppings And Add-Ins Once you've got the oats ready for soaking overnight, it's time to get creative with your toppings and add-ins! You can choose from a variety of dairy free options such as almond milk, coconut yogurt or even avocado. Or try out some creative combinations like adding fresh fruit, nuts or seeds for an extra boost of flavor. The possibilities are endless just make sure that whatever ingredients you choose don't overpower the taste of the oats themselves! Whichever combination you decide on will be sure to give your breakfast bowl a delicious twist. Variations On The Basic Recipe Ah, overnight oats - such a delicious and versatile breakfast option! With just a few simple ingredients you can whip up this tasty treat in no time. But don't be afraid to get creative with your recipe: there are so many ways to add variations for spice, sweetness, texture, and flavor. Here's how you can take the classic overnight oats recipe to the next level with some unique spice variations and savory toppings. To make the most of spices like cinnamon or nutmeg, try adding them directly into the oat mixture before refrigerating. You could also mix things up by using different types of milk instead of water as your base liquid ingredient; almond milk is particularly creamy and pairs well with these flavors. And if you're looking for something even more intense, consider making chai-spiced overnight oats: simply steep two chai tea bags in warm water before combining it with all other ingredients. The result will be an explosion of rich aroma and subtle warmth that'll have everyone coming back for seconds (or thirds!). Now let’s talk about topping options – because what would overnight oats be without their crowning glory? Try incorporating savory elements like cheese crumbles or bacon bits for extra salty goodness. Or maybe go sweet and crunchy with nuts or dried fruit pieces on top. There really isn't any wrong choice here – just use whatever suits your taste buds best! So why not go ahead and create your own special version today? Serving Suggestions For Overnight Oats I love making overnight oats for breakfast because it's so easy to customize them and make them delicious! Whether you like to keep things simple with just a little bit of sweetness, or spice up your morning routine with some unexpected flavor combinations, there are plenty of possibilities. Here are some ideas for spicing up your overnight oats recipe. When it comes to fruit combinations, the sky is really the limit! You can use all sorts of fresh or frozen fruits, including berries, stone fruits, apples and pears. If you want to add an extra touch of sweetening without adding refined sugar, try using dried fruit such as cranberries or raisins. And if you're feeling adventurous, why not experiment with tropical fruits such as mangoes and papayas? When it comes to spicing options, cinnamon is always a great choice! But there are lots of other spices that work well in overnight oats too - nutmeg, cardamom and ginger are all flavorful additions that pair especially nicely with the creamy texture of cooked oats. Try experimenting by mixing different spices together until you find the perfect combination for your taste buds! Frequently Asked Questions How Long Do Overnight Oats Last In The Refrigerator? Storing overnight oats in the refrigerator can help them last longer. Generally speaking, if you portion your oats correctly and store them properly, they should stay good for up to four days. Be sure to use an airtight container or jar and only make enough for one serving at a time so that you don't have leftovers sitting around for too long. If you do end up with extra portions, it's best to freeze them and enjoy within two weeks of freezing. Can You Freeze Overnight Oats? Yes, you can freeze overnight oats! To do this properly and avoid them becoming hard, it's important to follow the correct storing tips. Firstly, make sure they're in an airtight container when freezing - otherwise, they can easily become dry or take on other flavors. Secondly, be sure to prepare your oat mixture as you normally would before adding into a freezer-safe bag or container. When ready to eat the oats, thaw out at room temperature for a few hours before heating up or eating cold. Can Oats Be Soaked For Longer Than 8 Hours? Yes, you can soak oats for longer than 8 hours. Depending on the soaking temperature, some overnight variations may have a softer texture if soaked for more than 8 hours. Overnight oats are typically made with raw rolled or steel cut oats and left to sit in liquid for anywhere from 4-12 hours depending on your preference. Soaking time will vary based on the type of oats used, however it’s best not to go over 12 hours as they could become too soft and mushy. Is It Safe To Eat Raw Oats? Yes, it is safe to eat raw oats. In fact, many recipes require you to soak oats overnight in order to get the desired texture and flavor. You can also prepare your own raw oat mixture by combining rolled or steel-cut oats with other raw ingredients such as fruits, nuts and seeds for a quick snack or breakfast. Overnight preparation allows all of the flavors to blend together so that you can enjoy a tasty meal without having to cook anything! Are Overnight Oats Suitable For People With Gluten Allergies? If you have a gluten allergy, overnight oats can be a great option for your breakfast. Overnight oats are naturally gluten free and provide an easy-to-make, tasty alternative to traditional oatmeal or other grains that contain gluten. When preparing overnight oats, make sure to check the ingredients list of any add-ins like yogurt, granola, and nuts as some may include wheat or barley products that could trigger allergies. If you're looking for more gluten free alternatives beyond overnight oats, consider adding chia seeds or buckwheat cereal to your diet instead. No matter what you choose though, it's always important to pay attention to the ingredient labels on all food items when trying to manage allergies. Conclusion In conclusion, overnight oats are a nutritious and delicious way to start the day. They can be prepped in advance so they're ready when you wake up, saving you time in the morning rush. Overnight oats should last for three or four days when stored in an airtight container in the fridge. If you want to make them ahead of time, freezing is also an option! However, if your oats have been soaked for longer than 8 hours it's best to discard them as this could lead to food poisoning. Raw oats aren't safe to eat but those with gluten allergies can rest assured that overnight oats are suitable for their dietary needs. With all these benefits, why not give overnight oats a try today? If you're looking for more delicious recipes to try, be sure to check out The Disney Chef's recipe categories! Whether you're in the mood for something sweet like a cake recipe, something savory like a chicken or pork recipe, or something fresh like a vegetable or seafood recipe, there's something for everyone. And if you're a meat-lover, don't forget to check out the beef recipes category for hearty and satisfying meals. With so many options to choose from, you're sure to find a new favorite recipe to add to your collection. Read the full article
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harryspet · 4 years
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rogue angel [1] bucky barnes
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[Warnings] dark bucky x reader, forced (noncon) age regression, daddy bucky, kidnapping/abduction, drugging, mild violence, hydra reader, post endgame bucky, dd lg dynamic (future ab dl?), wetting, pacifier
A/N: This one has a super taboo dynamic so forewarning! I’m trying something out that I’m into and I want to know if my readers like it too! I’ll continue if I get some good feedback. Reader is 18+ READ AT YOUR OWN RISK
In which Bucky tasks himself with deprogramming you, a former hydra soldier.
series masterlist
word count: 3.3k
You were the Rogue Angel and you were completely unhinged. 
You went off the radar when Hydra was destroyed but, without the guidance of your commanders, you lost control. With no orders from the evil organization, your new identity was crumbling around you. You killed when you felt threatened. You robbed and stole to survive and to keep yourself hidden from the agencies tracking you. 
You were only a child when they stole you from your family and reprogrammed you into a super-soldier. They taught you to use your youth and beauty in order to do their bidding. You never had a chance to be innocent. Still, the world wanted you dead for all the deaths you were responsible for but Bucky thought you could be saved. You could learn to be good just like he did. 
Bucky was familiar with being a fugitive. He was risking a lot by going after you especially since he was going behind the governments back once again. 
You had decided to “lay low” in the East End of London, “renting” an apartment sat above a convenience store, and you had little idea that Bucky was watching you. It confirmed his suspicions that you had gone off the rails and it was even interfering with your normal training. Back in the days when he was brainwashed, it would’ve taken him seconds to realize someone was trailing him and a few more seconds to kill them.
As you left the apartment one day, Bucky noted your erratic behavior. You even fumbled with your keys as you locked your door. As soon as you disappeared down the rough streets of the East End, Bucky made his way into your apartment. He didn’t bother with keys, knowing the strength of his arm could push it open easily. 
He forced it open enough just to crack it, then his eyes trailed down to make sure there wasn’t any tripwire. There was and part of him was a little relieved that you weren't completely unprotected. Normally, he wouldn’t doubt that you could protect yourself, but without hydra commands, it worried him.
He maneuvered himself over the wire before shutting the door and carefully dismantling the wire that was attached to an explosive. He wondered who exactly had sold you the parts to build it. Checking for more booby traps, Bucky made his way around the apartment. It reminded him of the time he spent in Bucharest, trying to understand his relationship with Steve and why exactly he had pulled him from the water. 
There was a small mattress in the corner and only a few knick knacks to decorate the barren run-down apartment. He found money shoved into a jar in one of the cabinets, currencies from all over Europe, and a large map tucked away. Bucky quickly noted that you had mapped out a few Hydra locations around the world.
Bucky sighed, folding up the map, realizing you were going to try to find another Hydra factor to join. As far as he knew, they had all been destroyed and you’d only get yourself caught by a government agency going on this scavenger hunt. 
“I’ll blow your head off if you take another step,” Bucky knew you were behind him as soon as he heard your small voice. You were trying your best to deepen your feminine voice but Bucky could tell it was only an act. 
Bucky moved to turn around until you shouted, “Don’t!”
You hadn’t shot him yet which raised Bucky’s suspicions, “I’m putting my hands up,” Bucky decided to test the theory developing in his mind. He slowly raised his hands and you got a glimpse of the gold and black that was his left arm. 
You knew who he was as soon as you got a glimpse of his face. The Winter Soldier. You racked your brain for more information about him but all you could remember was that he had betrayed Hydra. He used to be like you. 
Bucky took in your appearance, the way you skillfully held your pistol, but also the darkness around your eyes, “Who sent you?” He could tell you had recently cut your hair to be shoulder length and, whatever clothes you had purchased, were from the men’s section. 
“No one,” Bucky answered monotonously, “I’m not here to turn you in.”
You were quiet for a moment. Looking over him, you realized that so much had changed since you had last heard about him. His hair was cut short and he even had a new arm. 
“Then you’re from Hydra?”
You sounded … hopeful, “They’ve been destroyed, Y/N.”
You blinked, staring, before gripping your gun tighter, “That’s not my name.”
Bucky took a step forward and you only narrowed your eyes at him, “It is,” Bucky continued, “You were five when Hydra started experimenting on you. Ten when they started using you in the field. They killed your family and then made sure you’d never remember then.”
You faltered and Bucky took a step closer. You closed your eyes, shaking your head, before lunging towards him, “You’re lying!” You lunged towards him but Bucky was too fast as he sidestepped. 
His arms were still raised in defense, “I’m not here to hurt you either, Y/N.”
“Don’t call me that!” Your finger pressed down on the trigger but Bucky’s movement were sudden, pushing your wrist and grabbing a hold of the barrel as he tilted it away. This led to you wrestling for the weapon. You were still strong, capable of superhuman abilities, but you were weaker without Hydra. 
Bucky pinned your to the ground, sliding the gun away, and it hit the wall with a clang. You continued to fight although it was futile against his vibranium hand. He pinned your legs with his own, keeping you from kicking at him. 
There was nothing but anger in your eyes, pure venom, “I’ll kill you, traitor. I’ll kill you and everyone you care about-”
Bucky shushed you, reaching into his pocket to grab a syringe, “Everything’s going to be okay,” Bucky was still learning to be gentle too and he’d get even more practice in the coming days. You flinched away but only exposed your neck more. Bucky took the opportunity to sink the needle into your neck.
Bucky began to loosen some of the pressure he was using to keep you pinned down. He watched as your body began to slump and you tried to blink your eyes in order to keep yourself awake, “You’ll pay … for this,” Her voice trailed off before you quietly whispered, “Winter … Soldier …” 
Bucky’s lips pressed into a thin line as he watched you float away into a dreamless sleep, “I’m sure I will.”
+
You awoke in unfamiliar surroundings. Of course, everything was unfamiliar to you these days, but you had an especially bad feeling this time. You turned your head, your eyelids heavy as you blinked them open. You saw a blue sky and clouds. A supposedly peaceful scene but what was peace to you anyways? You felt nothing. Death and destruction were peaceful to you. 
You turned your head to realize you weren't outside, looking up at the sky. Her eyes met with a tan leather chair and, as you continued to look around, you realized that you were sitting on an airplane. A private one. 
Panic began to set in as you looked down at your body, a soft blanket covering it and keeping you warm. You lifted your arms but they shook, weak from whatever sedative was in your system. It took all your energy to throw that blanket off and everything else you had to crawl out of the chair. Well, it was more so a fall.
You grunted as you collided with the floor and Bucky finally looked up from where he was standing by the cockpit. 
You realized that your legs were completely asleep as you tried to pull your body up. You turned onto your back with a wince, poking at your barren legs. You couldn’t even feel them. 
“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Bucky approached the scene, realizing that you had fallen from your seat. He didn’t expect you to awake this soon or even have enough energy to try to hurt yourself. As soon as you saw him, you tried crawling away, pulling your limp legs with you. Bucky grabbed you by underneath your arms, against your protest, and lifted your back into the leather chair. 
“Don’t,” you moaned, your voice weak too but it was useless. Bucky continued to sit you up, reaching behind you to buckle you into the seat. 
“There, that’s better,” Bucky looked over his work, his hands on his hips, “You shouldn’t try to walk for awhile, Y/N.”
“What did you do?” You asked, barely able to raise your voice higher than a whisper. 
“It’s easier this way,” Bucky said simply. Easier for him to keep you from escaping and for you to start to depend on him as your caregiver. He took a seat in the leather chair in front of you, lifting some mechanism that brought up a small table.
You looked down to see your legs were bare and you trailed your shaking hands up to your stomach to find soft pink fabric. Moving your hand down, you felt the soft white fabric of your panties. He had undressed you and that made you grow even more frustrated. 
Bucky brought out a manila folder, flipping through its content before grabbing pictures and setting them on the table in front of you. You saw a mother and father sitting on a picnic blanket, a baby girl in their hands. The next photo was a young girl with her grandmother. They were cooking some dessert in the kitchen. Something in that little girl's eyes gave you a sense of familiarity. 
“Do you recognize them?”
You shook your head and Bucky started to add even more photos. The girl seemed to get happier with each photo and you continuously shook your head.
“This was your family, Y/N.”
“And I’m … s-supposed to believe m-my . . . kidnapper,” You hated how weak you felt. Sure, you had made thousands of people bend to your will and tortured them until they told you what you wanted. Unlike you, Bucky’s motives seemed personal. 
“Your Daddy,” Bucky corrected, “You’ll refer to me that way from now on.”
Your eyebrows furrowed, “You crazy-”
“I won’t punish you here,” Bucky interrupted, collecting the pictures and putting them back into the confidential file, “But when we’re truly alone … I have a feeling you’ll find out.”
He wanted to be loving and caring with her. To make her feel like finally someone, other than Hydra, is looking out for her. Still, he’d have to train the bad behavior out of her. 
“Where are we going?”
“America,” He was a man of a few words, you noticed. You were hoping for something a little more specific. If you knew then you could track down some former Hydra bases.
“Where’s my weapon?”
He only chuckled, a smile tugging at his lips. 
“Whose plane is this?”
“My friends.”
As you opened your mouth to ask something else, a stewardess approached, carrying a tray in her hand, “Your bourbon, Mr. Barnes,” She set down the alcoholic drink and flashed the woman a thankful smile, “And for you, Ms. Barnes.”
You scowled at her, wondering if she was in on all of this, “I’m not-”
“Thank you, this is her favorite snack. Could you close the curtain for us, doll.”
“How cute,” The stewardess blushed, walking away, “Of course, Mr. Barnes.”
A white curtain was closed, blocking the two of you away from the front of the plane. You looked down at the table to see baby carrots, apple slices, chicken nuggets, and a juice box, “You should eat. We have a lot of time left before we arrive.”
“I’m not a baby,” Bucky took a sip from his glass. 
“I’d have to disagree.”
You opened your mouth to argue, but instead, you slouched back in your seat, “There’s a good amount of time left on the flight,” Bucky continued.
“I’m not hungry,” You lied. 
Bucky only shrugged, knowing that you were dealing with the battle going on in your mind. You wanted to be taken care of, he knew that, but your conditioning wouldn’t allow you to think that way. 
+
You didn't touch the food, as Bucky expected, even as the flight continued for five hours. You’d experienced worst torture before. This was nothing. You could starve yourself to death if you wanted to but Bucky would just end up force-feeding you. 
“Are you sure?” Bucky asked you again.
“I. Don’t. Have. To,” You explained again, though you could feel your bladder was painfully full. 
“I won’t look, I promise.”
You shut your eyes tight and shook your head again.
Bucky sighed, standing from his chair, “Let’s get you dressed then, little one. We’re landing soon,” Your eyes widened as he walked to the chairs across from yours, a baby blue backpack sitting in the chair. It had the first initial of your name sewed into the front. He pulled out a pair of floral printed overalls, frilly socks, and pink Converse. 
He laid out the blanket that was wrapped around you when you awoke. He undid your seatbelt and your struggling commenced as he lifted you into his arms, setting you down on the blanket, He lifted your legs, sliding on the outfit as you landed futile hits against his back, “If you ate your snacks, you might have more energy,” He was baby-talking you, “Maybe your hits would be more effective, little one.”
Little? You weren’t little. You could kill him if you just … just got your strength back. 
He snapped the overalls into place, easily maneuvering your body. Next was the socks and shoes. You were sure you looked like an overgrown barbie doll. He wasn’t finished though as he pulled out another item from the bag. It was blue, leather, and reminded you of a choker. Instead … it had a white binkie built into it. You struggled the most as he forced it into your mouth, locking it around your head. You reached your hand to find the mechanism that closed it but it seemed to be a magnetic lock. 
Bucky admired his work, grinning, as he put you back into your seat. The plane’s descent began shortly after that. 
No one seemed to mind that a grown man was carrying you, a grown woman, like a child. Bucky thanked the pilot and the stewardess as if he was a totally sane person. Despite you pushing at his chest, he wrapped your legs around him and carried you down the steps of the plane. The gag muffled whatever curses you were spewing at him.
The sun was setting now at the private airport and you looked around for any sign of what state you could be in. 
A sleek, black car was parked beside the plane and a blonde woman emerged as you and Bucky made your way to the bottom of the stairs, “You work fast, Barnes,” The woman spoke. She was dressed in a dark pantsuit, her hair straight as a pin. She looked you over, noting how different you looked from all the photos that were in your file. 
You turned your head away from her, your cheeks heating up in embarrassment. You mentally cursed, angry at Bucky for putting you in this situation but you were more upset with yourself than anything. 
“You have to when you’re starting from scratch,” Bucky answered, seeming to be on relatively good terms with the woman, “You have what I asked for?”
Sharon handed Bucky an envelope, “Sam thinks you’ve lost your mind.”
You felt Bucky shrug, “What’s new?”
Maybe this Sam person would help you escape. Bucky opened the back door to the car, setting you inside and buckling your seatbelt for you. As soon as he closed the door, you started fidgeting with the gag in your mouth that was forcing you to suck on a pacifier. 
You were gaining some of your strength back, you could even move your left leg a little, but it wasn’t enough. Bucky was partially right, you probably would be stronger if you’d eaten the food. And now that your bladder was about to explode, you had too many things overwhelming your senses. Bucky got in the passenger seat and soon Sharon was driving them off. 
You tuned yourself out of their conversation, deciding you should map out your surroundings. As you sit up to look out the window, you watch for significant landmarks that would mark your location. Your plan was foolproof except for the fact that it seemed you were completely in the middle of nowhere. You passed no cars on the road and, as the airport went out of sight, both sides of the road were covered by evergreens. 
That meant you were either in the North West or Bucky had lied about even being in America. 
It made your brow furrow. How could he have chosen such a perfect location? You had underestimated him. Clearly, the Winter Soldier used his new resources wisely. If only you had time to get back on your feet after Hydra. 
The car pulled up to a two-story cabin, a red truck sitting outside in the driveway. 
“Welcome home, Y/N,” You realized that you had zoned out when you felt Bucky undoing your seatbelt. He took you into his arms again and you wrapped your arms around his neck, only for balance. 
There wasn’t some big fence or electric wires. It was just a quaint little house. 
“I’ll see you soon, Barnes,” Sharon waved her goodbyes, and Bucky watched as the car backed away. 
When the car was out of sight, he turned to you, “You’d like Daddy to give you a tour, wouldn’t you?”
You only scowled at him, as much as you could with the gag on. Your baby bag on his back and you strapped to his hip, he carried you inside. As he did, you felt another part of your freedom slipping away. 
He carried you around the cozy home, through the living room and dining room, baby-talking you as he explained small items. The walls were a light beige, the floors a dark wood, and there seemed to be bookshelves made into all of the furniture items. 
Bucky had brought you into the kitchen which surprisingly had stainless steel appliances. The thought of eating flooded your mind but you pushed it down. Before, you could completely clear the thoughts from your mind. Now, your mind was a mess of conflicting thoughts.
Suddenly, there was a loud bark, causing Bucky to pause before he smiled a bit. He set you down on the counter, your limp legs hanging down, “Wait for Daddy for one moment.”
You didn’t acknowledge his command, only watched him slip out the backdoor connected to the kitchen. As soon as he disappeared, you slowly started to ease yourself off the counter. It was a far jump, one that he probably wasn’t expecting you to attempt. 
Your whole lower half was still numb but you felt it as one of your shoes touched the floor. You were relieved, holding onto the counter tightly as you tried the next leg. There was still little feeling but, if you took a moment to practice, maybe you could make it. 
“Y/N?” You were so focused on the task that he had startled you. You almost fell but Bucky was there to catch you. In a swift movement, he was holding you as you pressed against the kitchen counter. 
You felt tears stinging in your eyes as Bucky looked down. You felt the warmness running down your leg and pooling by your feet, ruining the new outfit he had put you in. You’d been so frightened that ...
You can’t cry. 
Weak. 
You can’t be weak.
You started to hyperventilate, anger and frustration boiling over.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay, angel. It was just an accident,” Bucky spoke soothingly. You couldn’t even look him in the eyes. He knew you wouldn’t be able to hold it in for so long and he should’ve forced you to go earlier. Still, it gave him an excuse to comfort you, “Daddy’s gonna get you all cleaned up, don’t worry.”
Being without hydra had made him weak, you thought, and it looked like the same thing would happen to you. 
+
Let me know if you’d like to read a second part of this story! I know this type of dynamic isn’t for everybody. Check out my master list for more of my dark marvel fics.
update: both chapter 2 and 3 are posted :)
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