#midnight tuber thought

[187-thirst]

Kabu sitting on the sizzlipede shaped chair while watching TV, but he doesn't really watch the TV, he just fell asleep.

#midnight tuber thought

[thecontumacious]

hi!! hello!! how are you? i hope you're having an amazing day/night :D i just saw that you're taking requests again so i have an idea that has been rotting my brain and because i really like your writing (you have me giggling and kicking my feet but i never said this) i thought it would be a good idea to ask you about it !!

anyways- my request is luxiem finding their s/o (who's usually on the quiet or less energetic side) dancing their heart out in the kitchen at like 3AM :'))

feel free to skip this request if you want to!!

The World All to Yourselves

a/n: I'M BACKKKK and it's summer holidays so i'll be going a bit crazy with reqs >w< god this character text limit thing is such a pain in the ass my hand is all cramped up from having to constantly reformat this TT

DISCLAIMER: concerning what had recently happened with vox and his community, i want to remind you again that this fic, existing fics and future fics are purely fiction and should not be seen as something to be projected irl. it's merely to entertain and also considered fanart. remember, this applies to not only vox. this applies to ALL of nijisanji and considerably, all other fandoms.

your boyfriend was on a business trip to meet up with the rest of the luxiem members for an off collab. and as much as he pleaded that you tag along, you heavy heartedly refused his offer with your work piling up on your shoulders like a mountain. it would take a week, he said, but it felt super long to you both.

you can see why he begged you to come with him. but well, duty calls and you can't exactly have everything you want in life. he would replace missing time with frequent calls when he's not streaming, video calling when possible with the rest of the members.

pain was visible in his eyes as he could only see you through a phone or laptop screen, so you always tell him that it won't be long that you'll reunite again. you keep reassuring him too that he'll have a lot of fun with the other members.

everything finally comes to an end and today is the day your v-tuber boyfriend will arrive home. unfortunately though, the flight he had to catch was scheduled for midnight and out of concern, he specifically asked you not to pick him up for safety reasons.

thus here you were, swirling your drink of choice in your hand as you looked out the kitchen window. the stars above twinkle every now and then as they watched you wait with anticipation for your beloved to come home.

you sigh, putting the glass aside before grabbing your phone. the house is too quiet, definitely because your boyfriend was not present. so, what do you do while waiting?

you open your music app.

Vox Akuma 👹🌹

fun as the off collab was with his beloved co workers, the strain on his shoulders heavily needed attention and tbh, so did his entire being after going so long without your sweet kisses and tight hugs

he really was going to bound you arms and legs next time this happens

an entire week without your adorable self under him

bah, not good :<

so he rushed his way home, thankfully earlier than he anticipated

knowing you, you were probably still awake so he snickered upon coming up with the idea of surprising you

he quietly shoves the key in and pushes the door open, pulling his suitcase with as little sound as possible

vox mostly expected you to be busy clunking around the apartment in your pajamas, watching a movie or a youtube video

not you shaking your ass to 'hope in the dark'

energetically rapping his part nonetheless

vox smirks, realizing he'd just discover the very rare moments of you like this

he knows you don't hide yourself from him, but seeing you truly be yourself with no one around?

it felt like falling in love with you all over again 

the cheeky demon lets go of his luggage near the door and makes himself comfortable by leaning in the kitchen doorway, just enough that you won't notice him immediately

arms crossed and a soft smile plastered on his handsome face, all the while you're still jamming through luca's verse

"throughout the night party time~!" you melodize, spinning around 360.

vox struggles to hold back his erupting laughter as you bop your head wildly to the drop, your feet stomping in sync with the beats

another idea lights up in the demon's head and he tiptoes his way over to you, just in time to get to his part of the song

"hey lady, how do you feel?" he sings

you turn around with a yelp, eyes wide and your heart on the floor

vox smirks, but he doesn't stop. "you can be anyone you want."

he pulls you by the waist until you're up against him. "don't be afraid and live your life."

his hands make it to your face and brings you until you're within a one inch proximity with him. "the world is full of hope."

blood raises to your cheeks and you suddenly don't remember what lyrics are next. but did it really matter at this point?

"hm? not gonna continue singing, love?" he smirks, leaning in so your nose brushes up against his. "you had so much fun."

"h-how long have you been watching, huh??" you hiss, pouting as you looked away. but vox is quick to pull your gaze back onto him by using his fingers

"just enough to see you have all the world to yourself, darling," he sighs, leaning pass your face and into the crook of your neck. "you looked absolutely gorgeous by the way. a shame i don't get to see it often."

you curl your lip, face still bright red from the embarrassment. but all you could do was wrap your arms around vox

"welcome home, love," you whisper, resting your head on his shoulder as you tug onto his coat. "was the trip alright?"

"and you're gonna ignore my words, sweet thing?" vox pulls away and for a moment, you feel weak in the knees with the gaze that rained down upon you

then you feel him push you back until you hit the kitchen counters, his hand snug on the tabletop with you where he exactly wanted you to be

pinned against him, flushed and completely helpless

"v-vox..."

"hm? what is it, my love?" his finger goes to your temple and he gently slides it down your face

"ar-aren't you tired from the jetlag?" you whisper, his face inching closer again within seconds. "co-come on... let's get you to bed."

his hand drops and grabs something behind you, then realizing that he had taken your phone. he scrolled through it, making you raise your eyebrows

before you could ask, 'fly me to the moon' starts playing and somehow, this makes you much redder than when he pinned you against the counter

vox grins cheekily, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you both to the center of the kitchen

"let's dance a bit, darling. i've missed you," he breathes against your ear

you sigh and just follow along, admittedly wanting the exact same from how touch deprived you were this past week

vox grabs your hand and has the other placed on his shoulder before he starts swaying to the music

it was no surprise he knew some moves, being at least 400 years old

nothing else made a sound, nothing but the music and occasional creaking of the floorboards. the world seemed so quiet. like... it belonged to only you and vox.

you sink into his hold more, a smile creeping onto your face

you were at home in this crazy world, in the arms of your demon lover

"i love you," you mumble

you feel the rumble of his chuckle then slowly pulling away, grabbing your face into his hands ever so gently

he leans in for that long awaited kiss, passionate and lingering. "i love you too, darling."

other boys utc!

Mysta Rias 🦊🔶

mysta's body felt like it could collapse at any given moment, his nose stuffing up and the wind hitting his body a little too briskly tonight

"goddammit why do i always gotta be sick after these things??" he hisses to himself, stumbling down the hallway and half assed-ly shoving the key into the apartment

sure, he might feel like shit rn and the jetlag was too much for him to handle, but he's reminded of you once the smell of your apartment reached his nostrils

the tension built on his back dissolves almost immediately and mysta is quick to fantasize about cuddling you until morning

or forever maybe

he's about to call out to you, announcing his arrival when he hears your voice booming throughout the apartment, singing lyrics all too familiar to him

"don't hide what you wanna do, come on dadadadibadoo~" you muse. "get all things i want, i wanna do, wanna do, wanna do!"

mysta lets out a quiet snort, utterly shocked but also very humored by this new side of yours

compared to mysta, he was definitely the chaotic one in the relationship. he'd randomly sing lyrics out loud while you just laughed at his silliness

safe to say it's his turn now

maybe he should arrive unannounced more often...

mysta tiptoes to the source of your voice, the kitchen he thought

when he peeps through the doorway, you are indeed singing 'hope in the dark' like you had no cares for the world, all the while using a wooden spoon as your makeshift microphone

a wide, cheshire cat like grin reaches mysta's face and he can't hold back his laughter

it's only because you're not facing him that you hadn't stopped

"you don't have to say anything, because i can feel your all," you sing again, spinning around

the scene becomes too much for the detective can handle and his hand slips into his pocket, pulling out his phone before discreetly recording you

"throughout the night party time!"

mysta's eyes start to water, both out of amusement and the fact you looked so adorable at this very moment

there's only so much of you mysta gets to actually see on a day to day basis. and he understood that!

call him greedy or selfish though, because this is the side mysta would love to see a lot more

dancing like no one was watching (excluding him ofc) and singing one of your favorite songs, admittedly the one that prompted you to have fun and for once be careless of what the world tells you

at least, that's what 'hope in the dark' had personally taught mysta

unfortunately something pokes inside his nose, nudging his nerves and provoking the desperate need to sneeze

"holy fuck not now--" he hisses, but before he can attempt to hold it back, said sneeze comes and evidently ruins everything. "aChOO!"

you shriek, pointing your absolutely dangerous wooden spoon at the stranger who just sneezed behind you. "mysta??"

"aCHOO!" he wheezes, his nose stuffing up again. "ah dammit"

"could you have at least knocked, you ass? i could've beat you to a pulp with this spoon," you quickly reach over for a tissue, handing it over to your sick boyfriend

mysta giggles sheepishly, graciously taking it and blowing into it to hopefully clear up his sinus infection. "scary, babe."

"terrifying, if anything," you grin. you are about to pull him in for a tight hug when you noticed his phone, turned on and... on the camera recording?

your eyes widen with panic. "MYSTA WERE YOU--"

immediately realizing what you were fretting over, mysta laughs and pulls his phone away from you, raising it up high above so you wouldn't reach it

"ah, ah, ah, nope," he grins, you pouting as he was incredibly tall. "this is for me."

"MYSTA FUCKING RIAS DELETE THAT!!" you flail your arms while jumping, attempting to reach the damned device but to no avail.

you huff, crossing your arms. "fine. don't expect me to take care of that cold."

at that, mysta pauses.

you smirk, "well?"

"awee come on... just this one, please?" now he's the one curling his lip, pleading. you roll your eyes. he sighs, "okay, okay. just do this one thing with me okay?"

you raise your eyebrows as you watch him pocket his phone, walking pass you to reach for your phone on the countertop. he scrolls through your playlist and plays a song familiar to both you and him

"G4L?"

"come on, let me dance with you this once. you dancing around made me wanna do the same," mysta smiles, his empty hand beckoning you to come closer

unlike before there's a soft glimmer in his eye, so you sigh, taking his hand

once the beat got even more erratic, mysta starts bouncing on his feet, bopping his head while his shoulders shook in sync with the music

mysta was many things, being a dancer was not one of them unfortunately

but... somehow, as his terrible movements continued, your grin widened and you had the urge to move with him

you can't lie. mysta's taste in music was fantastic.

after a while, you finally decide to lose yourself in the music, shaking your hips and head to the beat

"yeah!" mysta smiles, taking your hands so you moved together this time. "you're doing good, y/n!"

"can't say the same about you, mysta!"

despite the jab, he laughs wholeheartedly and does not proceed to stop

it felt like a small party between you two, the stars above watching you begin to sweat from the rapid movements. you and him mouth the lyrics too, making it all the more entertaining

when the chorus finally came around, you and mysta completely lose it and danced to your heart's content

you could tell he was genuinely having a good time, his face glowing brightly

and to mysta, he's never felt more at home at this very moment.

he knew that you were the one as you let all inhibitions and insecurities go, showing but your raw and beautiful self

he held your hand and pulled you in, placing a chaste kiss on your lips.

you giggle, pushing him off, "you're sick mysta! don't spread your germs on me!"

"oh shit right," he laughed, sniffling. but all that is forgotten as you and him danced some more that night

that video in his phone staying there for who knows how long :)

Luca Kaneshiro 🦮🔆

when i say he ran, he fucking bolted to your apartment bcs out of all the luxiem members, he's definitely the clingiest

it should be no surprise that he's super excited to see you again (especially after you insisted to him many times that he should save the private jets back home in fear that he'll get too exhausted)

but it was late where you were, thus why luca had decided not to call you upon stepping off the kaneshiro's private jet

he could just imagine you snuggled up with augustus asleep, waiting for him to come home

he might not look like it, but even luca kaneshiro's social battery can start to dwindle a bit

a night in with you in his arms, watching some movies (or his vods) or play some games felt like it could beat anything else

"ahhh thank god i'm finally home," he grins, his hand reaching the knob to the already unlocked door

but luca pauses.

"gonna start the game of love, i wanna shake your body and soul~"

luca turns to his watch: 2:57 AM

"jesus, what are they doing still awake? singing this loud too?" he chuckles to himself, choosing to open the door anyway

he steps inside, you still singing your heart out to 'hope in the dark' in the kitchen

with your back turned towards him, of course you don't immediately notice luca watching you wiggle your butt to his group's song

he crosses his arms, a huge grin on his face

proud almost?

how could he not be? look at you xixixi

"どうしようもなくキミの傍にいたい" you tune out again

luca then quickly steps forward, wrapping his arms around your waist while continuing to sing, especially since it was part of his song

"lonely lady shall we dance? i wanna make your heart smile," he sang along, spinning you around. "throughout the night party time!"

when luca starts dancing to the song, you can't help but be more amused than surprised by his arrival, covering your mouth as he continues to move while still holding you

"come on, hon, dance with me!" luca requests, swinging your hands around in an attempt to have you move too. shy and still quite startled by him coming in, you dance along minimally

"don't be shy, babe. you were dancing a lot more before i came in," he teases, evidently making you limit your movements even more

"sh-shut up, luca! you weren't supposed to see that," you mumble, pouting as you stopped dancing completely

luca sighs, grabbing your hands so that you fall onto his chest. "you were really cute though... i just wanted to have fun with you."

your face wasn't looking at him, but with his tone and his words alone, you knew that he was genuinely a bit disappointed

your heart ached to be honest, but you were also incredibly shy on dancing anymore since he caught you

his hands then make it to your hair, stroking it down all the while his other held onto your waist tightly. it was as though like you'd just slip away

it might've felt like that this entire week to him

ahhh poor baby

in an attempt to comfort his deflated heart, you lean back and press a kiss to his jaw, smiling, "welcome home, luca. i missed you."

you feel him chuckle, his hold onto you tighter. "i missed you more."

your fingers make it to his blonde locks and it was your turn to be combing through them. "i could feel it even from thousands of miles away, love. but i'm glad you're here with me now."

"me too."

luca pulls away from you, his hands now meeting your cheeks. you felt ever so safe in them, even more so that he's been gone this entire week. you melt into his touch.

"man, you look too cute like this," he muses, his lip curling as you laughed. "i knew i should've just packed you in my suitcase."

"maybe you should've, luca."

"i'll hold onto that promise, y/n!"

you giggle away, but then it dies down upon seeing luca intensely gazing at you. you tilt your head, worried, "luca?"

"i know you're shy about this but you know... " he trails off, looking away. "c-can i dance with you? j-just this once, i promise! i won't force you to do it again!"

this man had just traveled half the world for work and the moment he comes back, he doesn't immediately rest. all he wanted at the end of the day was to share a somewhat solitary moment with you, dancing to music you and him favored

were you really going to refuse him?

nope. not when luca is the one asking.

you sigh, wrapping your arms around his neck. "alright, fine..."

and just like that, the familiar light returns to luca's lavender eyes. he's quick to grab your phone again and begins to explore through your playlist, probably looking for a song to dance to

"oh, it just had to be this song, huh luca?" you pout, your heart wrenching at the nostalgic feeling of the chosen song

"i thought 'hope in the dark' was too energetic. sooo i chose something slower! you and i love this song anyway," luca smiles, putting down the device as he pulled you tight against him once more

"i can't argue with you," you smile, starting to sway to the slow music. upon seeing you move under your own initiative, luca grins. happiness overflows from within his heart.

"i never knew you were the someone waiting for me," you softly tune, looking into luca's eyes. "cause we were just kids when we fell in love."

"not knowing what it was," luca continues, following you. "i will not give you up this time."

never. i never will. luca thought to himself.

"luca, why are you crying, baby?"

he blinks and you're right. warm tears fall from his eyes but the smile on his face never leaves.

"you're perfect for me is all. and i'll never ever leave your side, y/n," he rests his forehead onto yours. and what does he see? his future, his love, his world, his everything. all in his arms.

you may be shy, a bit timid and sometimes can't keep up with his wilder nature. but you're strong yet so comforting. the home he had been looking for.

luca leans down to kiss you, all his overflowing happiness sealed in the loving gesture. "i love you, y/n. so, so much."

tears start to prick your own eyes as you smile, "i love you too, luca. so, so much."

Ike Eveland 🖋💙

ike eveland wanted nothing more than to just collapse, preferably in your arms at this very moment

the offcollab was fantastic of course! but there's only so much ike can take so once everything had finally wrapped up, he was ready to hibernate

it didn't help that the airport was so quiet and the sky outside was dark

literally the perfect setting to fall asleep in

he honestly wished you'd come to pick him up, but it was the dead of night (almost morning even). there was no way he was gonna make you get out of bed just to get him

so with what energy he has left from the day, he hails a cab back home

even the sight of the building was enough to motivate him to at least change into pajamas later

ike finally reaches the door to your apartment, turning on the knob and pulling his suitcase in.

usually you'd be near the door to wait for him. but it's because of your absence that it makes ike long for you even more

he kicks off his shoes and is on his way to the bedroom to find you when he hears the familiar tunes to his song

and most importantly, you rapping to his part

"are you gonna go? canvas is still blank. but do it right you're gonna gain or pain. ideal and ambition, white darkness, hope in the dark~"

a chuckle stumbles out of ike's mouth and his once droopy eyes shot open for this moment. he tiptoes around and finds out you're in the kitchen

not only were you rapping, but your legs brought you all over the inches of the kitchen floor, happily dancing to 'hope in the dark' without much thought if you looked terrible

ike leans onto the doorway, crossed his arms as he watched you quietly

"wanna have a chance you will see what i mean, stay real, dance in the dark. make it a showtime it gives you luck. spend your life don't believe the hype!"

and ike doesn't even attempt to stop you

the exhaustion weighing on his back suddenly lifts off and he knows it's because of you

you and your little energetic movements at 3 am, you :<

there's a certain beauty unfolding before him. it didn't matter at all that you were in your old shirt, hair messy and your movements were not world class.

but the way you brought yourself made you look so much more attractive, like you were somehow enchanting him like the first time you met him

ike eveland at this very moment had never felt so happy and admittedly, proud that you agreed to be his. you, this beautiful being that had descended on to the earth just for him.

it's only when the song finishes that ike finally makes his presence known by clapping his hands gently

you shriek, backing onto the kitchen countertops

ike chuckles, "you sure had fun there, sweetheart."

blood rushes to your cheeks and you feel like jumping off a building right now

"we-welcome back, ike!" you smile sheepishly, bringing your hands together to hide the fact you were shaking out of embarrassment. "how was the trip home?"

"it was alright," he steps forward with the most innocent beam on his face. but don't be fooled. he does not have the purest of intentions now that he's caught you.

"i-ike, don't," you warn him, backing away even more

"don't what?"

"wh-whatever you're going to do!"

"i'm not doing anything!" ike laughs, raising his hands up. "you're being paranoid."

"not when my safety is on the line!" you pout. "now stay back until you can prove you're innocent!"

"sweetheart, i don't know what you're talking about. i am innocent. also, i just came home. all i want to do is just get some rest with you," now he's the one pouting

with that in mind, you groan, crossing your arms. you hesitate, but you open your arms anyway for ike. "alright, fine. come here."

he lets out a giggle as he wrapped himself in your hold, nuzzling into your neck like a bear cub finding refuge in its mother's fur

"thanks, sweetie," he mumbles. "i missed you."

"me too, ike."

...

"can i ask you a favor? just one, y/n."

your heart drops. but you breathe out, "what?"

"dance with me?"

you knew this day would come with this man

ike snickers, "i guess you were right in being paranoid."

"you're lucky i love you, you know?"

the man lets out another amused laugh, reaching for your phone. his finger swipes along your many selections of music, a mixture between yours and his favorite songs

then he settles on one

"awe man, this song? really ike?" you frown, ike placing the device back down

"i've always wanted to ballroom dance to this you know," ike admits, taking one of your hands in his and the other on his shoulder as per how ballroom dancing should be. then he looks you in the eye, joking but somewhat serious, "at our wedding, perhaps?"

"ike!" your cheeks return to being red once again.

"i don't hear any objections," ike ignores you, all the while grinning and pulling you towards the center of the kitchen. "come, älskling."

he's leading you, circling at the appropriate times and helping you step along. you might've stepped on his feet a few times, but honestly, the fact that you were trying for him made ike forget the pain

"ah, sorry!"

"it's alright, y/n."

as you struggle to keep up with ike, all he sees is your focused expression. adorable and absolutely too much for him to handle. he could imagine it, you know?

you and him dancing to the same ghibli song, but with time, he believed you'd be able to get the steps. yours and his hair grey, skin wrinkling with the years, but the same smiles and song.

"ike?"

"hm?" he turns to you.

"you were spacing out."

"oh," ike chuckles, squeezing your hand. "i'm fine. just having the time of my life."

Shu Yamino 🔮✨

(let's pretend that shu made it to their offcollab this time okay ;-;)

there really was nothing like the feeling of finally meeting up with your long distance friends/co workers.

and nothing like the feeling of not being able to interact with you in person for seven days straight.

shu doesn't seem like it, but he's clingy at heart and every time he has to end a video call with you, his finger finds it incredibly hard to actually press the end button

there were enough nights where you two would fall asleep in a video call together and have your phones dead by the morning (an inconvenience for you tbh since you had places to go to)

the other luxiem boys absolutely notice him getting distracted by the smallest of notifications popping up from his phone, ones that weren't even from you

so the moment everyone decided to wrap things up, shu is first to finish packing his things and bidding farewell

back to you

tired as he was the entire trip home, there was not a time he stopped thinking about you

were you asleep? watching a movie? playing on your phone? did you eat enough today? had enough water?

"i'm going crazy because of them," he mumbles to himself, a dazed grin decorating his face as he watched the sky through the airplane window

then, shu is finally in front of the door. luggage in hand and his heart open

he shoves the key in and turns the knob, letting himself in along with his suitcase in tow

"cutie? you awake?" shu calls out, softly at first afraid that you might actually be asleep. but when he expected to hear a 'welcome home, shu' or nothingness because you were asleep, his ears instead catch wind of... you singing to his part in 'hope in the dark'

"you don't have to say anything, because i can feel your all~" you melodize, and even from the sound of your voice, he could tell you were smiling. "throughout the night party time!"

then the sound of feet stomping on the floor in beat with 'hope in the dark'

you were many things

but shu never figured you were this silly

and to be doing this in the literal dead of night just-

the sorcerer lets out a snort, deciding to tiptoe to wherever you were. he needed to see this before he was never given this opportunity ever again

and indeed there you were, stomping your feet according to the song all the while sliding around and your head shaking at the right tempo

also was that a whisk you were using as your microphone...?

"HOPE IN THE DARK~~~"

his heart felt like it was going to burst at any point and time just seeing you so adorable, shaking your head around like it was nobody's business

but most importantly, he was incredibly happy that you could spare yourself some time to simply have fun like this

shu is very well aware himself that time keeps running in this world. the universe won't ever stop for you. but with this in mind, it's very easy to forget to make time for yourself in this crazy place

make time to just forget about things for a bit, forget that your flaws and worries exist

so to see you, one of the most important (if not the most important) person in his life do this...

sigh, he has never felt more glad

and tbh?

he wanted to join in on the fun

shu knocks on the doorway and you immediately freeze up, turning around slowly with a pale face like you'd just hear a ghost creeping up on you

your lover merely chuckles at you, "sorry, is this where the party is supposed to be?"

"sh-shu h-hi!" you look at your whisk and immediately put it behind your back, a very embarrassed smile and cheeks extremely flushed. "welcome back, babe!"

"hi to you too, cutie," shu comes in the kitchen and opens his arms to you. "where's my welcome home kisses and hugs?"

"al-alright you big baby."

you know he's just teasing you, especially with that stupid whisk you just picked up :/ damn sorcerer just wanted to see you put it away awkwardly

so you place it on the countertop behind you and collapse into him, though a bit tense from the fact he literally caught you dancing in a frenzy like that...

"relax, baby."

ah he noticed

you giggle nervously in response, "i-i'm fine..."

shu pulls away slightly so he can properly see you. he sends you a knowing smile, "you're so cute, baby. there's no need to be shy. you seemed to have so much fun too."

he then cups your cheeks, your lips curling up from the mild pressure

"it made me fall in love with you again."

"i--" you look away, escaping his immediate gaze. "you're so cheesy, shu..."

"you like it though," shu tilts his head so that you're forced to look him in his purple eyes again. "oh hey! i have an idea."

he lets go of you and he pauses the music playing from your phone, changing it entirely it seems. his eyes hover over the list of songs and his eyes brighten at the sight of the one he found interesting

"oohh! salamander!!" you smile

"see? i knew you'd like the sound of it," shu chuckles, putting your phone down by the counter again before grabbing your hands and bouncing slightly on his heels. "come on! we haven't listened to this song in a while!"

"shu..."

but before you can protest anymore, shu sends you a quick wink and starts singing along to the energetic song. he absolutely does not forget to shimmy his way through too, making you laugh

this might've been because shu's natural charm or the fact that he's a sorcerer capable of doing otherworldly things, but you follow along

even mouthing the lyrics with him and matching his steps, your heart and laughter forgetting the tensity of your embarrassment from before

in shu's eyes, he's more than glad he got to see you again and this is the first thing he does upon stepping into the apartment

you and him together forgetting about the world. nothing but yourselves, the laughter and the present sleepy hours of the day.

once the song ends, you're out of breath from the dancing and somehow, this makes you look so much more beautiful, especially with the after effect of such euphoric moments

before shu could even realize it, he's pulling you by the wrist and placing his lips on yours, pushed by the moment

ah it's been so long... he thought, detaching from you for just a moment. shu laughs when your face is once again red.

"sorry, you just... looked so pretty. and i missed you so much."

I WILL SAY THIS AGAIN:

DISCLAIMER: concerning what had recently happened with vox and his community, i want to remind you again that this fic, existing fics and future fics are purely fiction and should not be seen as something to be projected irl. it's merely to entertain and also considered fanart. remember, this applies to not only vox. this applies to ALL of nijisanji and considerably, all other fandoms.

Masterlist!

#nijisanji en #nijisanjien #luxiem #luxiem x reader #vox akuma #mysta rias #luca kaneshiro #ike eveland #shu yamino #vox akuma x reader #mysta rias x reader #luca kaneshiro x reader #ike eveland x reader #shu yamino x reader #akurylic #mysart #drawluca #ikenography #yaminoart #author chan’s delivery service ?

[antigonenikk]

do i dare // disturb the universe?

chapter 1/2/?

pairing: john “bucky” egan/eugene sledge

summary: Eugene Sledge and John Egan are both adrift in the wake of the War. They find each other in a small bar in a small corner of Chinatown. And the rest, as they say, is history.

Chapter 2: april is the cruelest month

“April is the cruellest month, breeding

Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing

Memory and desire, stirring

Dull roots with spring rain.

Winter kept us warm, covering

Earth in forgetful snow, feeding

A little life with dried tubers.

Summer surprised us, coming over the Starnbergersee

With a shower of rain; we stopped in the colonnade,

And went on in sunlight, into the Hofgarten,

And drank coffee, and talked for an hour.”

——————————————————————

New York isn’t what he was expecting. He’d never been of course. He’d been to San Diego technically, for all that being stuck inside the barracks for two days before shipping out again to Alabama counter as “being in a city.” But the only real city he’d ever lived in had been Peking. He’d developed an idea subconsciously that New York would be the same. That the streets would smell of wood burning coal and fry-oil, that there would be streets crowded with sprawling marketplaces. That there would be labyrinthian alleyways and war torn buildings and giant palace complexes.

New York was not the same. The people seemed alien to him. Just as alien as the ones back home in Alabama. Their faces looked through him, leaving him a deep sense of panic that he had turned invisible. That he was a ghost. The streets smelled of baking bread and wet asphalt, and the noise of thousands of people all speaking English at once overlapped and brought him back to Pavuvu. When they’d all been living on top of one another, trying to pretend the world wasn’t ending.

It was unfamiliar. But it wasn’t all bad. He’d quickly found a place near Times Square, lured in by the neon lights and the friendly crossdressers prowling for rough trade. It felt liberating, to be here, to be alive and not in hiding. He’d remember what Shelton had told him. About the Red Light District down in New Orleans. How boys would cruise by the dockyards. He hadn’t believed it, not really. But it was true. There were people like him. Hundreds of them.

He didn’t dare touch anybody. Didn’t go out at night with desire on his mind. The wound of waking up cold and alone on that overnight train still stung a bit too deep. And besides, he’d always been a bit of a hopeless romantic at heart. The idea of cruising made him feel uncomfortable. Akin to jumping into the line of fire just to feel something. Instead he spent his days trying to figure out how to spend his unemployment. He had six more months of it left. And then it was pick a college or get a job. The possibility that he would choose wrong. That he’d waste the sum he’d earned through unwilling murder made him sweat. So he distracted himself. Spent hours at the bookstore, wandered the streets of lower Manhattan. Always somehow made his way to Chinatown by nightfall. And wasn’t that a gas. He thought he’d find something familiar there, but instead of Mandarin everyone was speaking Cantonese. And there were no families in sight. Just worn down men like himself. He’d found a bar though. A little place that reminded him of where he, Shelton and Burgie would go when they got Rec Passes. A hole in the wall with cheap beer and soft music. He’d sit in the corner sipping on drink after drink until it hit midnight. Then he’d drift over to the streets, empty as they could be, and try to clear his mind. Replace it with the sound of his feet moving one two three four. Marching easy like at base camp when they got far enough away from the huts. It didn’t seem to matter at night that you were lonely. With the sun gone down there was no one left to see. Almost like it never had happened at all. None of it.

That night he was feeling sorer than usual. He’d been at the butcher’s earlier when a car backfired. And he recalled with humiliation how he’d dropped to the floor like a sack of bricks, hands reaching for a sidearm that wasn’t there anymore. It had felt like eyes were on him. Like the whole store was staring. And so he’d ran out, kept running until his lungs started to ache. And spent the next hour curled in an alleyway for better cover, packing and repacking his pipe, not seeing much of anything at all. Now he was trying to return to normalcy. Beat down the shame. A glass of bitter Tsingtao in front of him. The place was filling up quick for a weeknight. And suddenly it just wasn’t worth it. Didn’t feel right. He wanted to be alone and to wallow and to curse at fucking everything that had led him to this point. He felt the inner lining of his jacket for his little Bible and tried to breathe. Getting up he strode towards the door, going for calm, hand on the book the entire time gripping.

And then his feet were knocked from underneath him and he landed hard onto his palms, hard. Groaning, he felt rage growing quick inside of him, begging for a release. He turned his head and felt himself torn between completely annoyance and unwilling attraction at the blue eyes and smiling face that stared down at him. He settled for an unimpressed scoff.

——————————————————————

New York was….well. It was. In a lot of ways it was like London. The only real city he’d had time to experience. The buildings were just as tall. Although these ones weren’t bombed out. Destroyed by the hand of some dumbass kid playing God, little toy soldiers collapsing into coffins. The buildings in New York were tall, and filled with pomposity. Just like the people. At first he barely noticed it. Off from Port Authority he’d made his way to Manhattan. Everyone was getting hitched and moving to the damn suburbs, so it hadn’t been hard to find a studio in a less than glamorous spot of town. After finally finding a place (a whole fucking week of living in a dirty ass hotel was starting to get to him) he holed up. Bought half a liquor store’s worth of booze, a carton of cigarettes and a month’s worth of canned food and just did nothing. Slept with a blanket on the cold floor, unable to bear the thought of buying a mattress. He checked the taps every few hours to make sure he still had water. He checked the cupboards four times a day to make sure he had enough food. And he let the panic run its course. Let it flood into and through him. He was all on his own now for the first time in five years. It felt alien. To not have someone lying beside you. To have enough to eat and drink. To be able to hear yourself really think. The silence rang heavy and weighed on him. And after two weeks he decided being a hermit wasn’t for him after all. And so he set out on the town. But man, he couldn’t stand most of the people.

He knew people now. Knew of people at least. Knew which bars were cheap, which folks were generous and would let him mooch. Knew the name of the baker and the grocer and the butcher and knew the price of a loaf of bread to the letter. But friends were off the table. It felt like everyone in the city was looking down on him. Looking at his sunken cheeks and his dead eyes and his twitching arm. Couldn’t stand it. So he rode the subway instead. The novelty of it hadn’t warn off. And even though his feet ached like a bitch he’d make a game of picking a random direction and just walking. Up the subway steps and through the alleyways, the long meandering streets. It felt a bit like the March. A bit like home. But that thought made him feel….But he didn’t think about the March, so it was fine. He played darts at bars all over the city. Got drunk as all hell and made a fool of himself. Listened to enough jazz to make his ears bleed. God. The jazz. Really that was the only time he was happy. He’d pick a spot. Any club in town. And fuck were there a lot of them. He’d sit and he’d watch the bands play. Good bands. Bad bands. God awful bands. It didn’t matter. The music sang through him. Made him want to bust up and dance and laugh and cry that he was alive at all. He lived for the nights. Lived for the music. That was reason enough to while away the days. Even if he didn’t have Buck anymore. Even if he was a shell of the man who was once a respected Major, he had the music.

That night he’d made a detour. Figured it would be funny to head down to Chinatown. See if Chinese drink had anything on Irish Whiskey. See if Chinese music had anything on American. He picked a small place, lit up with quaint little red lanterns that reminded him of the fireflies back home in Wisconsin. Except he didn’t think about Wisconsin. So he sat and smoked half a pack of cigarettes. One by one. Sipping on the oddly bitter beer the bartender had handed him, the name of which he couldn’t pronounce.

He could feel himself relaxing finally, a hazy buzz coming over him, when he turned and saw the Little Doll. Didn’t know how else to describe him. The kid, couldn’t be older than twenty one, was hunched over in the corner. His hair gleaming bright red beneath the lights. His face was an unearthly sort of white. The kind of white that reminded him of his sister’s dolls. He used to touch their cheeks when he was little. Amazed at how pure and clean the porcelain looked. Amazed that anything could be so untouched by living. The boy didn’t look untouched by living. His eyes were big and downturned and achingly empty. Cow’s eyes. Doll’s eyes. Sad little things. John heard him talking to another patron briefly and had to do a double take. The kid could actually speak Chinese. After that he tried to not look at all. But the buzz was gone. All that was left was a restless feeling. The need to constantly look over his shoulder and check that the Little Doll was still there. He felt giddy and stupid and old.

He got up to leave, drowning the rest of his piss poor drink in one go, and stumbled on the next step, watching as if in slow motion as the Doll tripped over his foot and went sprawling. Fuck. That had to have hurt. John felt himself grinning for a reason he couldn’t explain. For a moment he was a kid back on the school yard, getting ready to pull at some girl’s pigtails. He cleared his throat and reached his hand out determined to help, maybe. And then Doll turned around and he was met with the nastiest little look he’d ever gotten outside of when he’d dumped a whole bucket of ice-water over Buck’s head their second week into Basic. And he couldn’t help it. Really. He started to laugh.

He felt his hand shoved away with more power than he would have expected as Doll sprung up, glare still fixed to his pretty face, sneering out in a deep southern drawl, “Get outta my way, puhlease.”

He could feel the patented John Egan grin, the one that annoyed Buck to hell and back, making its way across his face as if it belonged there, even though it had been MIA for two years now. There was no way in hell he was about to do that.

#john egan #eugene sledge #fanfiction #im doing actual research for this story its absorbing my life lmao #copious ts eliot quotations i like the poets i like ok whatverr #!! #masters of the air #john bucky egan #the pacific #im a sucker for crossover crack pairings what can i say

[half-a-dozen-roses]

Not sure if I’m having one of those “ageing population of tumblr” moments, or if the younger generation have genuinely reached a new peak of stupid...

For context; I work in a popular budget supermarket in the UK. Within the first hour of my shift today, I was approached by several customers - all of whom either were or had pre-teen/teen kids - asking me if we had any “Prime.” I thought this was something Amazon related, or that maybe I was just mishearing them, or that they had our store confused with another with a very similar sounding name and were looking for something of theirs.

Anyway, I told them all “no” and carried on my day, only slightly curious about this mystery item people wanted. 

Usually, people want the big, middle aisle items. Things we only get seasonally and in limited numbers and which are usually great bargains. Things like heated clothes horses (actually the best thing I’ve ever bought from work) air fryers and of course, the famous carrot plush toys we get every Christmas from the TV ads... I assumed it would be something along these lines.

I was wrong.

On my break, I googled this mystery “Prime” item and discovered that it is actually.... *drumroll*

Juice.

Like, individual, single serve bottles of juice. Not big 2 Litre bottles you can share, but a single serving of juice...

Or rather, a “Hydration drink” (as opposed to???) as described by its creators. The reason it’s in high demand? Said creators are (apparently) famous You tubers (no-one I’ve heard of) and the high demand for the juice they’ve teamed up to create (sorry, “water based hydration drink” - I wish I wasn’t quoting that directly, but here we are) is coming directly from their pre-teen/teen mass followers they have.

Apparently we had a queue outside our store at 5am just for this juice. We had to limit it to 1 bottle per customer. We sold out within minutes.

Am I turning into a grumpy old woman, or is that just totally insane?

I remember the excitement of queuing all night/early morning for cool stuff when I was younger. But that was things that were actually worth the effort. Like when the latest HP books came out and EVERYONE wanted to read them first and nobody wanted to be left behind, or when a big, highly anticipated film came out with midnight screenings (like LOTR) and even things like popular festivals/concert tickets would be worth queuing for.

But this? This seems absurd. It’s literally just JUICE. We sell that every day, this one doesn’t seem all that special. In fact it doesn’t even look nice!

What am I missing? Anything? Have the teens of today gone mad, or am I just doing what the boomers did to us milennials whenever we enjoyed anything????

#rant #kids these days #prime hydration #aldi #literally wtf #ageing population of tumblr.com #gen z vs millenials #i blame tiktok

[daydream-believin]

The Never-Ending Roadtrip (campfire songspell)

Summary: (part 1) Reader has joined Douxie on the quest for Nari’s safety. He’ll need company won’t he?  - (part 3) camping and fun fun crush anxiety   (part 4)

Warnings: swearing, whole fish-eating, mention of blood, i’ve stopped proofreading shit

Word Count: 3678

a/n: don’t worry there’s no more haunted stuff after this. or missouri. Y/n doesn’t smoke she just feels the need to have a way to set fire to things on her person at all times. a pyromaniac, if you will. also they have been roommates this entire time i just forgot to mention it ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Archie was not happy. He couldn’t believe that Douxie would just ditch him like this. It wasn’t like him. Watch the boat, Archie. We’ll be right back, Archie. That was seven hours ago. A rainstorm had come and gone even. He thought for sure that at least Y/n or Nari would have reminded the other two about his situation. But, no, here he was, soaked to the bone and still alone. In Missouri. In misery. As mad as he was though, he was equal parts worried. It wasn’t like Douxie to just forget about him. Something was wrong.

When he finally caught sight of the rest of the party returning to the ship, Arch breathed a sigh of relief. And then got ready to breath fire. Which he quickly put out, after seeing the looks on the kids’ faces once they got close enough. So something was wrong. They looked as if they’d seen a ghost.

“Are you three alright? What happened?”

“Nothing we didn’t survive. Look, we got the tent.” Douxie held up the box to show Archie. He just flicked his tail in response. “It’s already dark, so we’ll tell you all about it while we set up camp. Alright, Arch?”

Archie rolled his eyes. He still thought this camping thing Douxie was pushing was an awful idea. But he’d let his wizard familiar make his own mistakes. He’d been doing a lot of that lately, or, well, more like nine centuries. Tough love. Young wizards cannot learn until they blow up potions in their faces. And this was going to be one of those times. He’d give it till sunrise. Midnight, even. He’d make a bet with himself, if they give up before sunrise, he’d treat himself to some fresh salmon. If they stubbornly don’t give up until after, a can of tuna.

After taking the boat a way into the wooded area they were hiding in, and answering all Archie’s questions, they picked a good place to settle for the night. Or at least Nari did. Douxie and Y/n were still iffy about it. it wasn’t exactly camping spot nirvana, but Nari really took a liking to the spot and its aura or whatever. Eh, she just kind of sniffed the air and told Douxie to stop. She liked the abundance of plant life here. Lots of roots sticking up from the ground, and little berry bushes. Which was going to make for bad ground to bed down on. But that’s alright, they’ll just cushion it with extra blankets. Extra blankets that they did not have. Or even regular blankets. They had no blankets. Fuzzbuckets.

It was going to be ten degrees out later tonight. Well, Douxie guessed they’d have to go back to that ‘huddle together like penguins’ plan. Which wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, now that he’s thinking about it. Cuddling’s pretty nice. A flush spread across Douxie’s freckles. He’d get to embrace Y/n. Pretend like he couldn’t feel how soft her skin was. Pretend like he totally didn’t want to be holding her, but it was essential to their survival so he had to. Archie and Nari would be there too, snuggling with them, so he could pass it off as platonic. But would he want that. Wouldn’t it just hurt when they let go in the morning. After holding onto her for dear life all night, to just get up and act like nothing happened the next day. Would he recover from that? His blush deepened in color. No, they’ll just have to go make another trip to the store. A different store. Hopefully one that’s free of spirits this time.

But he didn’t need to spend time thinking about cuddling his crush. No, he had to set up camp. Y/n was already building the fire. She was half-way through, by the looks of it, and he was just standing here, staring into the tent instructions, blushing away and not comprehending a thing he had read. In fact, he couldn’t seem to read them now that he was focusing. Oh, look at that, they’ve been in Russian this entire time. His blush turned into an embarrassed one. Not only had he been staring off into space, he had been staring into something he couldn’t even pretend like he was reading. Lovely. He hoped no one noticed. Y/n had. Although, she had just assumed he could in fact read the Russian text and didn’t question it. Perks of being a mysterious immortal being. After barely skimming the instructions he could actually understand, Doux took the tent out of the box, to at least make it seem like he had definitely been reading this whole time and he did have the slightest idea of what he was doing.

Douxie checked back to the instructions, careful to make it look like he was just checking back over it, and not reading it for the first time. He added a head nod to make it convincing. Okay, so he needed to spread out the tent. He got down on his knees and rolled out the large bag of nylon in front of him. It took him a minute to get it to where there weren’t any folds and the shape looked right. As right as a saggy boneless tent could look. Alright, now for the poles. Douxie looked around him and found no poles. Where were the poles? Bleeding balroths, did he buy a tent without poles? Oh, no, it appears they were just still in the box. Ain’t that just the way.

Douxie got to work connecting the tent poles. Thankfully, they were connected by some sort of elastic and he didn’t have to figure out which went with which. He found the eyelets they were supposed to go in on the corners and slipped them in. it was a bit tricky, but he managed. He was glad to be able to have something to do with his hands to get his mind off Y/n. The universe did not let him avoid his thoughts for long, however, since now it was time to raise this bloody tent, which required two people, and Archie and Nari were nowhere to be seen. Of course. Y/n was glad to help him raise the tent. She was glad to hold it while he staked it to the ground. She was glad to do anything with Doux. He just felt guilty for asking.

Finally, their new home was up. For the night anyway. Curious, Y/n opened up the zipper door of the tent. It was small, but cozy nonetheless. She poked her head in to get a better look. Doux followed suit. She turned to him, to make some comment about it, but he didn’t hear a word she said. He was too focused on how her face was incredibly close to his face. Her lips, although in the middle of saying something to him, were right next to his. Could she notice he had been looking at her lips? He prayed she couldn’t notice him looking at her lips. She had. Y/n tilted her head in a gesture. She was asking him a question. Quick, response.

“HAAHAHha yes,,” Douxie panicked.

“Oh, ah, okay.” Y/n ducked back out of the tent. Oh Merlin, what did he just say to her.

***

Y/n spent a significant amount of time trying to light the fire, first with her shitty gas station cigarette lighter, then with some spark spells, when Archie came back and lit it with no problem. Damn dragons, always, breathing fire? He wasn’t around while she was struggling either so he couldn’t have helped her sooner. She was sure she had something to be irritated at him about though. He gets to sleep all day and he doesn’t have to pay bills or wear pants. Yeah, there it was. The smell of woodsmoke filled the air. It was fantastic. Y/n took a deep breath. The fire she had built wasn’t exactly a neat log cabin like she had been taught in girl scouts, but it’d work well enough to cook their dinner and keep them warm. Dinner, what were they even eating? Apparently, the answer to that question was trout that Arch caught in the river and some sort of root that Nari dug up. The roots were a bit strange, but Nari had insisted that they were delicious when roasted. Guess it was time to trust the veggie-lady and pray to the stars that they wouldn’t be spending this night poisoned.

The trout was great, although, whole. Y/n wasn’t sure how she felt about how it was looking at her while she ate it. Yeesh Archie, remove the heads? Don’t cats like to decapitate things? But it was a really good trout. Nice smoky flavor from the fire, seasoned with herbs that Nari picked. Douxie liked it, not seeming to mind the still intact head as much. He ate two. Y/n had no idea how he could fit two whole trout in his stomach but he did just that and ate some of Nari’s roasted tubers too. Speaking of which, they actually weren’t that bad. In fact, Y/n found herself eating quite a lot more of them than she expected. A quick google search revealed that they were something called a fairy spud. Y/n made a mental note to go look for some when she got home. If she got home. Maybe home would be different by the time they were safe from the Order. Maybe they’d make a new home. Of course, they’d have to since Douxie fucking burned down the apartment they shared along with their place of business. Her roommate could be a real dummy sometimes, but that was okay, it was entertaining. And cute. His recklessness was very cute. She’d even call it endearing.

The fire cracked loudly, scaring Y/n out of her revelry. Douxie had also jumped beside her. It was a very loud crack indeed. Archie looked smug. Y/n wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was pride for the trout that he had caught himself. Y/n wasn’t about to pretend to know what went on in an ancient cat-dragon’s head. And she had been taught not to meddle in the affairs of dragons, for she would be quite tasty baked into a blood pie.

She wasn’t sure what was hotter, the fire or her face. Y/n supposed that she was lucky for that fire, to blame on for her flushed cheeks. Douxie was not only sitting beside her, but right beside her. They were just sitting on the still-damp ground, there was plenty of space. He had said something about the smoke being too annoying over on the other side, but that didn’t mean he had to sit so close to her. Not that she didn’t want to be sitting right next to him. She’d focus on the fire, she loved fire. Just focus on the flickers and the popping and the smell. And she couldn’t stop thinking about him next to her. It was just, a little much right now. Too romantic. It was like Douxie and the fucking universe were conspiring to take her out. In both senses of the word. Stars, they were practically all alone out here, sitting by the fire, rubbing shoulders, and oh look at that, he’s got a guitar now.

Douxie had gotten a bit bored just staring into the fire, and desperately needed to distract himself from the fact that he just sat so close to Y/n. Why the hell would he do that. She had noticed, he just knew she had noticed. Time to salvage his pride. What better way to fix all those problems than with some good ol’ fashioned campfire songs? Luckily, he always had a great instrument with him now. Transfiguring his staff, he started to play. He’d stay away from the rock and roll for now since it was literally ten o’clock at night and they didn’t need any park rangers showing up. At first, he just played some classics with the volume turned down, then just practiced some riffs for a while, but once he noticed both Y/n and Nari get noticeably sleepy, he switched to a softer, sweeter melody. His fingers expertly plucked at the guitar strings, and also Y/n’s heartstrings in the process. It was such a beautiful lullaby he was playing. She wished she could hear him play it every night.

Nari was the first to head into the tent for the night. She curled up in one of the corners. Y/n would follow her, but Doux was still playing that lullaby, and she didn’t want to miss a note. It was like it was putting, well, a spell on her. She had a really hard time keeping her eyes open despite her will to keep listening to him, but Douxie picked up on it, stopping to her dismay.

“Come on, Love,” He scooped her up as if she were a child, “Let’s get you to bed,”

He carried her to the tent, but stopped dead in his tracks at the entrance. Fuzzbuckets, he forgot about the no-blanket problem. Archie was going to stay awake and keep the fire going through the night, so the cold was no longer a problem, but the ground was going to be hard and lumpy. Their backs were going to be incredibly sore in the morning. Great. He’d let Y/n use his chest as a pillow. No hidden motives here, it was just chivalry. Once they settled into a comfortable and totally not weird position, they began to enjoy a peaceful night sleep to the sounds of nature. Which lasted half an hour before the tent decided that was enough.

It kept shaking, as if someone or something was assaulting it. But whenever one of them got out to fend off the attacker, no one or thing was out there. And Archie was out there, watching it, and he reported nothing unusual. So, maybe the tent they bought from a haunted store was haunted. Who could have predicted that. Oh well, it’s not like it was that endangering, just annoying. They tried their best to ignore it.

But haunted tent did not like being ignored. That lovely woodsmoke smell shifted into, something strange, like, diet blood? The sickly smell of blood but lighter, gentler, and faint. As if the tent wanted to scare them but wasn’t really into it today. Again, not really that endangering as it was annoying so they elected to ignore that also. Nari didn’t seem to be on board with that decision however, and left to go lay by the fire with Archie. Douxie was acutely aware of the head resting on his chest. He was trying his best to control his heart rate and was failing. There was no way Y/n couldn’t feel it. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could do this. Lady Fortune smiled upon Doux. The tent abruptly collapsed in on them.

***

So plan B was to find an inn for the night. After making sure the fire was out, they headed off into town on foot. It was eerily empty, nothing but the occasional car passing through town, but they were in middle-of-nowhere Missouri. The lack of nightlife at could be excused. It was two in the morning; most townies weren’t out partying. The traffic lights reflected off the pavement. It was odd seeing the lights run with nothing there at the intersection, like they were directing invisible traffic. As if there were ghost cars. Maybe they should just get out of this town actually. And they would have, if they weren’t so exhausted that they felt like zombies. Absolutely knackered.

There were exactly three inns in this dinky little town. One that was very fancy, in which they couldn’t even afford to stay in a broom closet at, one that was run-down and cheap, but full, and the last one, their only available option, which was somehow even more run-down and sketchy than the other. Just looking at the outside of it, it was pretty obviously haunted. Or it could be that the people who worked there were really committed to Halloween decoration and got an early start this year. Yeah. The man at the front desk wasn’t exactly a friendly character either. All in all a bit dodgy. Y/n was getting quite antsy, and not only from the creepy vibe. This was the last-resort inn, and with the other one full, there was a good chance that this one might not have the most ideal rooms available. And she had read enough cheesy fanfiction in her life to know exactly where this was headed.

Sure enough, the gentlemen at the front desk informed them that the only room they had left was in fact that famous room with only one bed. She’d snort if this wasn’t killing her inside. She quickly put up a poker face. Douxie balked at the information, but they were desperate, so he quietly accepted his fate and took the room key. Lady Fortune could be kind of a bitch actually. The journey down the hall was awkward as hell. Nari wasn’t sure what was going on, but she didn’t like the atmosphere. She looked up at Y/n and took her hand. Y/n smiled down at the forest child. Nari didn’t return the smile.

They entered the room and took it all in. The first noticeable thing was the smell. Not blood this time thankfully, but stale dust and mothballs. They could work with mothballs. Nari wasn’t visibly repulsed by mothballs. The carpet was sticky. It’d be best not to think about why. There was that cursed full size bed. The only bed left and it’s not even a queen. Douxie and Y/n weren’t even going to be able to have any distance between them. Douxie took a deep breath. There was a shabby little dresser with a tv from the 70’s perched upon it. You know the ones with the rounded screens, big dials, and bunny ear antennas? Y/n wasn’t even going to try turning that on. She got the feeling whatever was on the local channels was not something she’d want to see. She’d not even check the news station for the weather report. Whatever stories were newsworthy in this town was not something she wished to know about either. There was a small armchair in the corner. The floral fabric was torn, revealing that it had been reupholstered recently. Nari took a liking to it and curled up for the night. Archie joined her and got comfortable. Doux cursed under his breath. He had been counting on Archie staying in the bed with them, to make it less awkward.

Y/n was sitting on the edge of the left side of the bed, dragging her fingers through her hair. Douxie put some protective wards around the door. He’d ward up the windows too, but there weren’t any. It added to the suffocating feeling in his chest. Y/n added some purification spells to keep out any less-physical surprise guests. Walking over to the chair, Doux took off his jacket and laid it over Nari and Arch. They looked cozy. He was glad someone would get a good rest out of this. He was sure Y/n would too. It was just him with this bloody problem. He’s the fool who caught feelings here. He must surely be mad. She finished combing out her hair and snuggled under the covers. Guess it’s time for him to get in too now. In the bed. Next to her. All domestic and such.

It only took but a few seconds before Y/n was out like a light. All that sleepiness and such. Despite being the sleep deprived one here, he was wide awake unlike her. The moment the receptionist had told him there was only one bed left, it was like he took a double shot of espresso. Nervous energy, straight into his veins. He normally wouldn’t sleep like this, stiff as a board on his back, but he wouldn’t dare move. They were so close. She still smelled like the fireside, a welcome change from the staleness of the air, yet still a reminder of just her close she was. It was so quiet in the room, all Douxie could hear was the faint blowing of the vent and the pounding of the drum in his own chest. And her breathing, Merlin, he could hear her breathing. It was so soft. He unconsciously synchronized his own breath to it. He wondered how she looked right now, all cozy and asleep. Surely, she looked adorable. Maybe her hair was in her face. Perhaps she was even drooling. He dared not look over to see.

Lady Fortune cackled. Y/n turned over in her sleep, and latched onto Douxie. Oh fuzzbuckets, bleeding balroths, by Merlin, Mordrax’s miracles, fuck. She wrapped her arms right around his chest and nuzzled into it. His face was fire engine red. Whatever chill left in the air was now gone. Her soft hair was tickling his face. She was obviously still asleep right now, and thought that she was cuddling a pillow, or stuffed animal, or, or whatever she cuddled. What was he supposed to do about this? What the hell was he supposed to do. Did he cuddle back? He wanted to cuddle back. He couldn’t cuddle back. He took a deep, calming breath. He should just try to get her off. After, several attempts however, he realized that wasn’t going to happen without waking her up. And he did not want to wake her. He accepted his fate once again tonight. He could feel both his willpower and consciousness fading. Might as well enjoy these last few moments while they lasted, too. It could quite possibly be the only time he’d ever get to fall asleep next to her. In her tender arms. Getting to not just listen to but also feel her breathe. Truly a bittersweet thing.

***

a/n 2: ha! here you go, not one but two glorious there’s only one bed moments. my rite of passage as a fanfic writer. stay tuned next time for oh my god they were roommates

#douxie x reader #douxie imagine #hisirdoux casperan x reader #hisirdoux x reader #hisirdoux casperan imagine #douxie casperan x reader #douxie casperan imagine #douxie #hisirdoux casperan #douxie casperan #my writing #the never ending roadtrip

[absynthe--minded]

Headcanon/short fic prompt: domestic russingon (especially cooking/baking!)

(content warning: drunk Findekáno, some sexual innuendo)

this turned into something way bigger than I thought it would, whoops

“Hm,” Maitimo murmured, examining the soup stock dubiously. 

“Hm?” Findekáno asked, glancing up from his entangled fingers. “What’s ‘hm’?”

“‘Hm,’ in this case, means ‘I think I’m going to want more spice in this’,” Maitimo answered, not turning to face his husband. “And pólë, and porocell, and a few roots and tubers once we’re properly making soup.”

“Why couldn’t we make mastarandil?” Findekáno said. “This is - well, it seems like a lot of work.” 

“Because, veru-nînya, mastarandil is more work.”

It was very late, after midnight, and the whole of Himring was slumbering but watchful. Findekáno had been sent to the eastern marches on official business, which meant that he had a royal excuse to spend a few days in Maitimo’s company, and tonight they were awake long past sunset. Their game of cuptalë had gone on for hours, thanks to their mutual enjoyment of a bottle of Maitimo’s nenvalaina, and now rather than sleep they had gone in search of a dinner that might as well have been an early breakfast. 

“Oh,” Findekáno answered, musing on this, his eyes examining the places where the tile gave way to mortar in the anchored table where he sat. “Pass me the bottle?”

“And watch you fall off the stool? Hardly.”

“I’m not that drunk, Russo.” 

“Mhm,” the other nér answered; there was more than a hint of laughter in his voice. 

“What?” Findekáno protested, shifting position forcefully enough that the four-legged stool he was perched on rocked back and forth with him as he moved. “I’m not!” 

“You drank more than I did,” Maitimo said, turning around and pointing to a nearly-empty bottle that made the whole room smell of peaches. “See? Most of that is you.” 

“So what?” Findekáno retorted, drawing himself up in an exaggerated fashion. “I can hold myself well. I’m only a little drunk. Not very.”

“Finno, my love, my dearest most esteemed husband?”

“What?”

“You’re about to fall on your face.”

Findekáno winced, glancing down at himself - he’d slid forward, pushing the stool onto two legs so he could prop his elbows on the table, and his husband was absolutely correct in that the longer he kept up that position the more likely it was that he’d have an unfortunate accident and split his face on the edges of the tile. 

“Right,” he said, awkwardly sitting back and then sliding across the flagstone floor until he was less precariously positioned. “Thank you.”

“Now,” Maitimo continued, returning his attention to the pot on the stovetop, “we need - oh, damn it all.”

“What? What now?”

“I think we’re out of butter,” he said. “At least, out of butter here in this kitchen.”

“So - so go into the other kitchen and get some,” Findekáno said. “What’s the matter with that?”

“I’d be taking someone else’s butter,” Maitimo said. “And besides, Auriel informed me that everything in the main kitchen is reserved for Tarnin Austa next week.”

“You celebrate Tarnin Austa here?” Findekáno asked. “Are there even seasons here except ‘cold’ and ‘more cold’?”

“We have a summer,” Maitimo answered with mock annoyance. “But I suppose it’s kinder in the West where you aren’t staring at what must surely be Moringotto’s exaltation of his own gwî every time you go up to the ramparts.”

Findekáno laughed, far harder than the poor joke deserved; it was a sign of his intoxication. 

“Do you think he considers Thangorodrim sufficient compensation for his lack of girth?” he asked. “Or will we all be subject to some other, far greater tower, demanding Manwë and Varda themselves acknowledge his superior size?” 

“You are drunk,” Maitimo said, but he was chuckling. 

“If being drunk gives me leave to speak thusly, let me be drunk,” Findekáno said, leaning forward again. “Kiss me.” 

This brought a true smile to his husband’s lips, and the taller nér stepped away from the stove to bend down over the table and kiss him. When he drew away, Findekáno reached up with one hand, seizing him by the collar and pulling him back until their lips met twice, thrice more. 

“You taste of peaches,” Maitimo murmured; this time, the amusement in his voice was edged in something raw and smoldering. 

“Do I?” Findekáno asked, looking up at him through dark eyelashes. “Good.” 

They stared at one another, eyes burning and bond sending out shuddering sparks, until Maitimo shook himself and turned back to the soup stock. He was silent, examining it and adding pinches of spice as he stirred, and in lieu of speaking with him his husband settled for admiring the way his shoulders shifted beneath his shirt and the cut of his high-waisted trousers.

“If we still need butter,” Findekáno said at last, “well - isn’t that a churn there in the corner?” He pointed to a tall, narrow vessel made of blue-and-white hyalma with a wooden stick rising out of it.

“Yes,” Maitimo said, “but I’m making the soup, I cannot do that and churn the cream.”

“So let me.” 

Maitimo flinched, and then glanced over his shoulder at his husband. 

“You?”

“Why not?”

“Have you… are you aware of how to churn butter, melindo?” he asked, choosing his words carefully. He could feel his face twisting up on itself in confusion. 

“I’ve seen it done a thousand times at least,” the other nér said. “I know how it’s done.”

“But you’ve never churned butter yourself.”

“How difficult can it be?” he asked, sliding off the stool and nearly knocking it over. “It’s not as if it requires any particular skill.” It was surprisingly difficult to cross the floor and pick up the heavy churn, and Findekáno found himself nearly keeling over more than once, but at last he set the hyalma on the stone with a clank and clambered back up onto his stool. 

“Pass me the cream,” he said, glancing at the bottle of nenvalaina again and debating whether or not he ought to take another drink. “I’m going to take the - lid thing - off of this.” He bent down, his braids spilling over his shoulders as he moved, and fumbled with the top of the churn, sliding it up the stick until it was free and he could set it on the table. Its blue flowers on bone-white glaze contrasted with the warm cream of the tile. Next came the stick, which had an oddly carved ending that was large and resembled nothing so much as a mushroom; this, Findekáno also lay on the table with a loud crack. 

“You could have just lifted the handle up,” Maitimo said. He was watching his husband and obviously trying not to laugh.

“I - what?”

“The handle,” Maitimo repeated, tapping the stick. “The end is bigger than the churn cover. You could have just lifted them both up together.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that before?” Findekáno asked, almost pouting; it was an elaborate and teasing question. 

“Because I’m having fun watching you attempt this while drunk.”

“I’m not very drunk,” Findekáno protested again. “Just a little drunk. Three drunk.”

“Three drunk,” Maitimo said; he very nearly burst out laughing. “And how drunk is ‘three drunk’?”

“Three out of twelve. One-quarter drunk.”

“That implies the existence of three-quarters of you that are sober.”

“How do you think I got this - this - ” He pointed to the tiled table, attempting to be decisive and only flailing. 

“Handle,” Maitimo said. He was grinning as he poured oats and dried vegetables into the soup stock, which was simmering and beginning to smell of spice and fat and savory porocell broth. 

“This handle onto the table?” 

“Three-quarters-sober you would have lifted them both at once, or asked me for help.”

“Shut up,” Findekáno muttered. “It’s not as if you’re helping.” 

“I’m talking to you. Surely that’s accomplishing something.” 

“It is,” he admitted, and when Maitimo looked at him, still smiling, his heart fluttered in his chest, making him even dizzier than before. 

“You ought to kiss me again,” he told his husband, resisting the urge to climb onto the table solely to be closer to the other nér. “It’ll give me motivation to get up and fetch the cream.”

“I ought to kiss you again because you’re three drunk,” Maitimo corrected, turning away from the stovetop and bending over the table again. “And because I want to.”

When Findekáno’s hand went into his hair, pulling them together again, he didn’t bother resisting. 

#replies #anon replies #tolkien #absynthe's fanfiction #RUSSINGON

[vorish-egos]

MASTERLIST

                                                ⊱ ⊱ ⊱፥⊰ ⊰ ⊰

Finally I decided that it would be a good idea to make some sort of index for vorish stories and hcs! Because Tumblr search tool does not work properly or at all and also to keep this place more organized, lol.

Enjoy the stories, headcanons, concepts and ideas!

( hc – headcanon

( ss – short story

( a – ask

( tw: - trigger warning

( fic – vorefic

( q – quote

( m – media, so gif, video, etc.

                                              ⊱ ⊱ ⊱፥⊰ ⊰ ⊰

Mark:

- - Sweater - - (ss)

- - I Didn’t Mean to Eat You! - - (q)

- - Noisy Tum on the Livestream - - (m)

- - When Giant Gives You This Look - - (m)

- - Mark as Pred - - (hc, a)

- - Hot Sauce - - (fic)

︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵

Dark:

- - Don’t Make Him Mad - - (m)

- - New Year’s Wine - - (ss)

- - Dark Teases Other Ego Pred - - (hc)

- - Pred HC - - (hc, tw: mentions of digestion)

- - A ‘Dark’ Fate - - (fic)

- - Unus Annus goes Dark - - (fic)

- - A Song - - (fic)

︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵

Damien:

- - Damien as a Shy Pred - - (ss, a)

- - Ragged Damien and reader - - (Fic) 

︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵

Wilford:

- - Wilford as Switch - - (a)

- - Wilford and Dark’s Mouth - - (m)

- - Belly Rubs for Others - - (a)

- - Anon being nommed by Wil - - (a)

- - Wilfy the Pred- - (hc, a)

︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵

William:

- - Big Tum - - (a)

- - Damien and Mark inside a Colonel - - (a)

︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵

HeeHoo:

- - Headcanon - - (hc)

︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵

Google:

- - Ready to Eat - - (m)

︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵

Unus Annus:*

- - Vorish and GT Moments: - - (m)

︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵

Seán: 

- - What a Tasty Snack - - (m)

- - Jaques Septique - - (m)

- - Sanctuary - - (fic)

- - You Wish You Were Here - - (q)

- - Hibernal Rescue - - (fic)  

- - BB Protects His Dad - - (m)

- - Curiosity - - (fic)

- - Don’t Take Photos of a Sleeping Snake - - (fic)

- - A Friend in Need - - (fic)

- - Giggly Pred - - (m)

︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵

A̡nt͜i̶:

- - Big Gulp - - (m)

- - Chomping - - (a, tw: hard vore)

- - Don’t Test the Glitch - - (fic)

- - Anon wants to be swallowed by Anti - - (a)

- - Successful Escape from Anti - - (ss, a)

- - Possessive Anti - - (hc, a)

- - Pred Anti Concepts - - (hc, a)

- - Hostile/Harsh Anti and His Prey - - (hc, a, tw: mentions of roughplay)

- - Anti’s Reaction on Being a Prey - - (a)

- - Headcanon - - (hc, a)

- - Inside Anti’s Belly - - (m)

︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵

Schneeplestein: 

- - Doctor Henrik Vor(ish) Schneeplestein - - (fic)

- - Schneeplestein Idea and Swallowing Anti Down - - (hc, a)

︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵

Jackie:

- - Hungry Jackie and Thief - - (a)

- - Jackie’s Ability to Control Tum - - (hc, a)

︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵

Robbie:

- - Robbie’s Diet - - (hc, tw: mentions of digestion)

- - Thoughts on Pred Robbie - - (hc, a) 

- - Midnight Snack - - (ss)

︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵

Chase:

- - Chase and His Regenerating Powers - - (hc, tw: mentions of digestion, gun, suicide)

- - Chase Swallowing Tiny!Reader for Goodnight Sleep - - (fic)

︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵

Jameson: 

- - Naga JJ on Naga Anti - - (a)

- - Pred JJ - - (hc, a)

︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵

Septics:

- - Septics Guts - - (hc, a)

- - Septic Sam as Prey - - (hc)

︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵

Y/N and The Septic Egos Series:

- -  Anti: Dealing with the Troublesome Y/N - - (fic)

- - JackieBoy-Man: Protecting [Y/N] - - (fic)

- - Henrik Von Schneeplestein - - (fic)

︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵

All Egos: 

- - Ipliers and Septics Roles - - (hc)

- - Giant!Mer!Tubers x Tiny!Mer! S/O - - (hc, a)

- - Cozy - - (ss)

- - Egos Taste Preferences - - (hc, a)

- - Who’s got the loudest belly? - - (hc, a) 

- - Their Reaction to Sleepy Prey - - (hc, a) 

- - General Headcanons - - (hc)

- - Soothing Noises - - (m) 

︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵

DAGames:

- - Ryan’s Sudden Change - - (ss, a)

︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵

Natemare:

- - Puppet - - (fic)

︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵

Phantom:

- - Phantom HC - - (hc, a)

︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵︵

#v.ore #vo.re #markipliervore #jacksepticeyevore #v/ore

[tortillastar]

Ribs

She drags the shoe across the linoleum tendu à la second. The offending stockinged leg stares back from the mirror. The creased turnout - just shy of 180 - the lemon-peel crease at the crook of her knee, the tumor bulge of her kneecap, and the limp left toes, hung out to dry like Sunday laundry. Slight, like a pimple dotting one’s brow, yet enough to give it the look of a crooked branch.

She shifts her gaze to the leg and gazes detachedly as the flesh constricts, pulling and stretching into the same strange crests and valleys traced by shadow. A heaviness presses upon her knee, a directive to point is lost in translation, and only then did she realize her feet were numb.

A few streaks of light claw the studio floor, slicing her leg like a loaf of brioche. She nudges her phone with the frayed corner of her pointe shoe. 8:10. Two hours she’d been in the empty studio tucked at the end of the hall, only the hawk-eyes and bitter laugh of the mirror for company.

For the past month, she’d taken to running the exam combinations in some pretense of preparing for the winter final. In ballet, no amount of midnight cramming would shuffle the pecking order. Anna would top the list, Svetlana and Maria eating at her heels a few miles removed. She would powder the bottom, placidly hanging on the brink of expulsion as only one who’d lived bare-necked beneath the guillotine for five years and four months could.

She hadn’t gotten past the first set of pas de bourrées, engaged in a staring contest with the knee she’d hammer straight, the bones she’d melt and remold, the feet she’d shape into the neck of a goose.

She peers at the face in the mirror, fixed with a melted and molded smile, like a wax mask worn in the sun. The janitor would be making his rounds soon. He was a stubby hunchback who reeked of greasy bacon and cottage cheese and picked his teeth with the rusted keys on his belt-sized keyring - one she preferred not to cross.

She wobbles over to her bags and collapses by them, a boney addition to the hobo pile. Practiced hands dig out the knot and unravel the ribbons. They leave red tracks crisscrossing her calves - she’d tied them too tight. Her nails absent-mindedly trace the straw-like veins, some purple, some blue along her feet, peeling off millimeter by millimeter each patch and piece of toe-tape. They pull at her skin and reveal the scabs, the welts, the splotches of red. She slips out the studio, leaving a foot-width slit as the teachers did, a silent dusting of her tracks.

The two-minute trek back to the dorms was enough to stain her exposed cheeks crimson and numb the fingertips poking out of holes in her winter gloves. The knob gives too easily.

No Anna, but the heap of dress and stockings, shed like a lizard's skin at the foot of the bed, confirmed her lurking presence.

Stealing food again.

At this, the girl allows herself a haughty flick of the lead eyebrows smeared to the crown of her forehead. The fading desk lamp huffs out a sickly-yellow glow on the knots of hair, specks of dust, bits of paper, and the torn sole of an unwashed stocking poking forth from beneath the bed. They invaded the edges of her vision, rubbing a crude line around the corners.

The girl picks up a corner of the lilac leotard, the sheer purple skirt would clumsily about the waist and noted with a bitter cornrow twist of the lip the xs tag, the letters faded and cracked, but the jeer no quieter. Hers was two sizes bigger - two sizes too big. A fist-sized patch of sweat bloomed at the chest. She smells in its sticky sweetness, browned toast, and poached eggs. Hands bring the damp clothing closer to her hankering nose. She stumbles at the rusty stutter of the doorknob and flings the dress back atop the pile with a flinch.

Anna slips in, lithe as a cat. She flips the lock shut with a blind hand, balancing in the other a plate piled with the usual - tattered cheese squares and soggy folded between slices of flaking bread heels.

“Back already?” The words are puffy and thick. Two folded sandwiches balloon from her cherry-petal lips; a scrap of ham flags the corner of her mouth. The lilt fills in the rest - given up already?

The girl hums, letting the implication roll off her like a raindrop caught on an umbrella.

Anna flops on her bed, sidestepping the strewn clothes and bunched skirts on impossibly high relevé. A few sandwiches flop open, but no creak of the headboards. A few sticky stabs of the remote control and a projection flickers to life on the far wall, bathing her form in a hazy-blue hue. It flecks her hair, mud brown and unbrushed, but pretty in that careless way only those who didn’t care their appearance seemed capable of. A white collarbone peaks out the collar of her nightshirt, paper-strip legs from the mouth of flared pajama pants. A flat chest and masculine frame suspended her at that blissful age where the body seemed an insatiable black hole, vanishing the food she ate without a trace. The girl stares at the way her kneecaps vanished into the line of her leg, and the natural doming of her foot, even unpointed, and subconsciously shoved her numb toes and bruised legs further beneath her bed.

She was the same once - wolfing down oil-crisp fries and cheese-dripping burgers at the KFC beneath her ballet class, shoving a bag of chips to the tail of the conveyor belt, being chased around the house by her grandmother, begging her to down the last gulp of soup.

It had come about gradually, imperceptibly, like the callouses about her big toe. A few arched eyebrows, a few frowns, and a simple “Katia switch with Sofya” relegated her to the spot by the exit door. The ones who occupied it never stayed long - dismissed, or crushed under the pressure of digging themselves out.

Her fork lingered over the beefsteak, wound an uneasy pirouette, and stabbed into the neighboring mound of greens. That had been easy. The academy canteen didn’t serve much red meat in the first place. Fish was harder, especially the cuts of smoked salmon she slapped on everything from burnt toast to insipid spinach leaves. Eggs went because she forgot to grab one breakfast. Then milk, because the skim milk pitcher had run dry one morning, and if she wasn’t drinking milk anymore why keep up with the yogurt.

She forced down finger-sized carrots, bitter brussels sprouts, and broccoli florets that sunk into her teeth. First with leftover dribbles of salad dressing, then fruit, then nothing at all. She gazed at the squares of beef steak wedged in others’ mouths, trying to taste the greasy, crumbly juices in her raw cucumber slices.

She took to keeping food and water on her person at all times - an orange bulging like a tumor in her clutch, a thermos tucked in the rooster pouch of a holey jumper. It was to avoid starvation, the dull cramp in her stomach that tugged down the corners of her lips and inevitably followed by overeating. She never ate the food but kept bringing it along anyway - on the two-minute walk from her dorm to the academy, the few hundred-step walk from cafeteria to class.

Partly, she derived some warped pride from the fact that she could eat, but would not. Partly, she came to enjoy voicing with a breathy, bogged-down sigh, “I’m too full, anyone want this?” when she spotted a teacher turning the corner, and answering calls of “I’m starving, anyone got a snack?” with granola bars, and too-large apples shoved in her classmates’ faces, smiling an evasive smirk when they accepted.

She scanned barcodes and tallied up the calories, grinning in triumph when she dragged herself through the day at under a thousand - net, of course, she was careful.

“Want one?” She realizes she’d been staring, and by the arch of Anna’s single crow-bar brow, for too long. Without shame, the girl raises her eyes to meet Anna’s pitch-black orbs, poised before an eye-roll she would probably share with her bed lamp.

“No thank you.” Creaks the automatic reply. “I don’t eat bread.” She adds to strengthen her conviction, though nobody would spare a glance at her plate at lunch to check if she’d kept her word.

“Your loss.”

A buoyant, techno tune draws her gaze to the projection. For the night, Anna had passed up the flabby American rom-coms she inhaled under the pretext of learning English. Instead, flappy, armless sleeves, squirming tuber dresses, and pendulum purses paraded down coffee-stained roads, easily avoiding the few puddling gulps dotting the curbs. Towering lampposts, shop signs, wobbly curbstones, each leaf bleached grey. A flap of bat’s wings and the occasional lilting bird whine completes a pretend eeriness ruined by the too-matte paint, the too-smooth roads, the too-new metal benches.

The camera whirled about, favoring a bottom-to-top shot that lent full view to jutting, crooked knees, and bowed legs. The girl frowns at their pastry-thin shoulders, chicken-wing spatula, and pigeon-toed walk. She sees in bed-sheet expressions not aristocratic coolness, but contemptible misery - a silent plea on weighted lips.

“You can become a model if you’re dismissed.” Her smacking lips pork chop the words, her mouth brimmed like her suitcase, its zippered mouth perpetually open in half-hearted surprise. She tears open the final sandwich, nails pressing crescent-moons into the holey bread pockets. The girl lifts a corner of her lip in a wan smile.

The words pick at hardened scabs, no more than a tickle. She’d been suspended on the chopping block from the moment she was accepted, and the sense of urgency had long since worn thin. The studio hours after class was fulfilled out of habit, not any imminent fear of dismissal.

The girl thought it was Anna’s brand of helping - disaster prevention through repeated exposure. They walked the no-man’s-land between friend and stranger on a scaffolding of convenience and pity.

“They have it easy. Just starve themselves, look miserable, parade around clothes slapped with some expensive brand name. And people shower them with praise.” She sucks the tips of her fingers with a pop.

“We have to starve ourselves and look happy doing it.” She stands up with the empty plate. A few dark specks had already seized on the leftover crumbs.

“You’re showering first.” A phrase stranded between question and demand.

The door croaks shut, and her wobbly “Yeah” sinks in the empty room. The bed groans as she stands. She wants to peel off the bark and tear the baseboards but glares dully woodgrains for a few beats before grabbing her shower duffel from the doorway.

The shared bathroom is conspicuously empty. The others had showered after class, she assumed. She twists off her jumper and lets the cold prick at her bare arms, observing each pimpling goosebump. Slowly, she peels off the lilac leotard and rejoices at the wrinkle of fabric bunched beneath the armpits. Cold fingers trace along the ribs, revealed one by one, pressing a chill to each angled, protruding bone. In the mirror - lustrous despite the grimy tiles and cracked sinks, copper wire lips bend into a smile.

#ballet #writing #short story #fiction

[madluluwriting]

Wip Wednesday

Wip wednesday? Well it’s not midnight yet where I am so well... have a wip I guess? It’s the beginning of the next Space dads. Doesn’t have a title yet. I’m doing it for nano camp this April.

Sometimes you gotta jump in with both feet. Alright. No. Well, yes. But only some times. Not, you know, every time. Like maybe now is not the good time to… You see, he’s not sure it’s a good idea?

“Da? Are you mooning?”

“No Luke, I’m not… What would I be mooning about anyway?”

“Uh… I dunno? Buir maybe?”

“Oh, I guess I could but I’m not mooning. I was just thinking.”

“About what? You’re coming with us tomorrow, right? Buir said it was family activity to go all together! Please, come with us? It’s less fun if you stay home.”

Ben sighs, runs a hand through his beard, uncertain.

“I don’t know, dear one. Maybe I shouldn’t. We’re always so careful. I don’t want to ruin all of our efforts.”

“But you have to come! Please, Da! So, I can prove to the others I’m not lying. Everyone is nice at the market and Buir’ll be so happy.”

He nods and the child beams happily, hugging him before going back outside. Well, now he’s still left with everything to pack. He’s really glad they can be almost self-sufficient in terms of food but the amount of excess they produce is a bit baffling at times. And Jango is… Well maybe coming with them at the big market this time will help him understand how Jango always manages to sell everything they bring.

He goes to the daily market of their small community usually, but twice a month Jango takes Luke to the capital to sell the rest of their production. All told, it means they have to pack up everything in crates and, this time, it’s quite the amount. The harvest has been much more productive than last years. It seems after seven years of farming, experimenting with machines, fertilizer and cross breeding, they are getting the hang of it.

He’s up to three crates of varied tubers full and ready when he hears the heavy footfall of his lover behind him. He just leans backward a bit and his back collides with a warm chest. He sighs in contentment when Jango’s arms wrap around his waist.

“Su’cuy cyare,” he greets him. “How is your day?”

“I’m considering the idea of locking the boys up in the barn tomorrow so we can go without them and escape the mound of pranks they’re planning.”

He chuckles, turns his head to kiss his lips. He probably was outside, harvesting the last of the crop for tomorrow, he’s radiating heat, the skin of his nose reddened from the sun.

“It’s not that bad. And I’m pretty sure Luke is barely planning anything when it comes to pranks. He wouldn’t get caught so often if he was.”

“I don’t know what would be more worrying, that he gets caught anyway or that he doesn’t plan at all… I thought I taught him better than this.”

“No plan survives first encounter with an enemy. Better that he learns to adapt to any situation.”

“I don’t want to hear this from you, you’re insane.”

He laughs, turns around and hangs his arms to Jango’s neck to kiss him again. He feels his hands on his low back, sighs in his mouth while he plays with his hair.

“EW! Da, gross!”

He laughs, puts his brow on Jango’s shoulder and glances at Luke across it. He’s on the threshold of the barn, looking at them with a disgusted, grossed out, expression. Jango sniggers and puts a kiss on his head.

“What’s up, ad? Did Boba blow something up again? That’d be a new record for him, I left him with the auto-harvester ten minutes ago.”

“Noooo? But I finished picking the jengas. Can I go and play, now?”

“Yes, but don’t go too far if you’re alone, please.”

“I know, Da!”

The short blonde rolls his eyes and turns tail, running to the fields. He smiles and kisses Jango one last time on the cheek before letting go and taking a step back.

“We should go back to work,” he states without making a move.

“Yes…”

“How many more crates do you need?”

#space dads extraordinaire #fanfic #My writing #star wars #jango fett #Obi-Wan Kenobi #Luke Skywalker #wip #jangobi #Family Fluff #hell yeah i'm in love with that tag #beware this is a wip #any error you see is mine

[professordrarry]

It's an open secret to everyone in the auror department that aurors Malfoy and Potter have it bad for each other, but it all culminates when Ron and Blaise accidentally bond them together. Will Harry and Draco be able to hide their feelings on such close proximity?

Hey, can you believe I’ve never written a bond fic???? Sorry because this is gonna be a  r o u g h ride. Also it’s accidentally 2 k……

“Blaise, do you think we actually have to tell them?” Ron had finally pulled off his robes; Blaise was pretty grateful since they stank like the tubers they’d been bagging up since noon. Grateful, too, for other reasons, even if Ron was married and vanilla and definitely not interested.

“You’re kidding, right?” Blaise crossed his arms to glare at Ron. “Do you honestly think they won’t notice?”

“Well, okay, but see,” Ron insisted. “I’ve been thinking about it since this morning. I’m honestly nor sure they would notice, Zabini! They spend literally all their time flirting and teasing each other anyway. And they’re partners. It’s not like the proximity will be a problem.”

“Yeah, sure,” Blaise scoffed. “Until they try to go home, Weasley!” Ron scowled. He cleared his throat. Blaise sighed; reticent, Weasley was dangerous. It almost always ended up with Blaise doing a shit tonne of paperwork and sitting in front of the Wizengamot.

He didn’t need to tell anyone that the plans were almost always brilliant and worthwhile, as well.

“What’s your brilliant idea, then?” Blaise asked reluctantly.

“We put them on the Maffin case.”

Blaise’s head snapped back to Ron; his brain was working so fast, he barely had time to actually notice the freckles that decorated the man’s chest in a beautiful splatter or the scars that marred the surface in a masterful maze all down his arm.

“That actually is Brilliant,” Blaise murmured, thoughts whirling. “Bloody hell, Ron. How long have you been working on that one.”

“Took me about twenty minutes to get there,” Ron admitted, rubbing the back of his neck and looking extremely uncomfortable. “I’ve just spent the past four hours working up the nerve to suggest it.”

Blaise laughed. “Don’t know why’d you be nervous, mate. We’ve all agreed those two need to get over themselves. This is just…an unfortunately convenient confluence.”

“So wait,” Ron clarified. “We agree. We don’t tell Draco or Harry about the side effects of the plants we confiscated this afternoon?” “Absolutely not.”

“And also, we put them on the unsolvable case that has had the last three Auror teams working on it basically living at the Ministry?”

“I think you may have accidentally become the most brilliant of all Ministry employees, today, Ron. Are we sure that accidental amourous bonding is the only side effect of Matiligha Root?”

“Fuck off,” Ron joked, pulling a shirt on his head and swinging his bag on his shoulder. “I’m going home to shower with soap that doesn’t smell like a very shit hotel. Night, Zabini.”

“Tomorrow, Weasley. I’ll go put in the memo before those idiots try to leave.”

“This is going to be hilarious.”

Draco was exhausted. He hadn’t slept properly in a week. Just like the last three teams that had tried to crack the Maffin ring of illegal potions transfers, he and Potter had decided to just stay in the office so that the alarms they set would actually result in an arrest. So far, they had not only been entirely unsuccessful, but Draco’s back may never again work properly thanks to the ancient cots Harry had found in a dingy closet on the fourth floor. By all rights, he should also be about ready to kill his partner. The fact that he is actually sort of content with the proximity is sort of alarming. More worryingly, he is actually starting to appreciate the gentle midnight snoring and morning coffee shared while sitting cross-legged on their separate beds.

“Morning,” Harry said blearily, returning to the office with large mugs and a tray hovering in front of them. “We’re in luck. Marjorie decided to do her job today and turned up on time to make pastries. These were outside the office door.”

“Oh Merlin, they smell good,” Draco groaned, taking a croissant and a scone, deciding immediately that he didn’t want to choose.

“I hate that you can eat like a twelve-year-old and stay fit,” Harry said with a yawn, handing him a coffee and settling down beside him on Draco’s mattress.

Draco froze. They were very close; his face heated and he shuffled slightly away from Harry, who frowned. Draco knew the problem. He didn’t want to move away. He was actually pretty sure at this point that Harry didn’t want him to move away either, but he had no idea how to handle that in the middle of their office floor. It had become much more noticeable this week; they’d been spending way too much time together. It was getting harder and harder to deal with the gentle teasing tone, the subtle touches on the shoulder instead of saying his name to get his attention, the fact that they frequently side-along Apparated unnecessarily, or the distinct reality that when they landed, they often stayed attached at the arms for a hiccup longer than was strictly required to regain balance.

The more important realisation of Potter being this close, though, was that the gentle hum of the air around them seemed to still and the ache in the back of his skull disappeared the moment Harry sat. It couldn’t be a coincidence.

“Headache again?” Harry asked, brows knitted.

“No, actually,” Draco exclaimed.

“That’s what I was just noticing. First time in days.”

“You should go see a healer,” Harry muttered around a bite of scone, leaning back against the wall and drawing his knees up.

“Nah, I’m sure it’s just stress. We should both go home tonight.” Draco shrugged.

“Yeah, alright,” Harry agreed. “Could use a proper shower and a mattress.”

Draco nodded. Not to mention an actual wank, he let himself think.

The day was uneventful; they did paperwork, managed to convince the uppers that they were making progress, and finally, packed up to go home.

“Night, Malfoy,” Harry said, drawing his coat over his shoulders. “Think maybe tomorrow we should go back up to Scotland to check on that uncle thing again.”

“Yeah, alright,” Draco replied, passing Harry his briefcase.

They nodded to each other and Harry stood on the Apparition spot.

Draco fell immediately to the floor; his head split in two, and there may have been a scream emitting from his mouth, but he passed out before he confirmed it. In the last moment of his consciousness, he managed to punch the badge on his chest until it glowed purple.

When he opened his eyes again, his head was in Harry’s lap, and there was a distinct smell of ozone in the office. “There’s a healer on the way,” Harry said hoarsely. “You’ve been out since I turned back up. Did you see what happened?”

“Nothing happened,” Draco insisted, trying and failing to sit up. He collapsed again and Harry’s hand, he noticed, went back to his hair, stroking it back from his face gently.

“Well, obviously something happened. I left and then—”

“The headache just got really bad,” Draco interrupted.Harry stared at him for a moment, then pushed his glasses up onto the top of his head. He sighed.

“Draco, when did the headaches start?”

“I told you, when we got the Maffin case.”

“Yeah, and do you remember the day of Zabini handing off the Maffin case.”

“Assume that right now, I don’t remember much,” Draco said softly, his head fuzzy and warm in Potter’s lap. He was afraid to shift too much, make Harry aware that he was still there.

“Matiligha Root,” Harry explained. “I haven’t thought about it until now because this case has been so stressful. Of course you’ve had a headache and passed out when I left. We’re bonded.”

Draco’s brow tightened. “No, we can’t be. We’d have noticed. The bond affects…they’re super obvious. Overwhelming attraction. Inability to be apart. Emotional upheaval.”

Harry looked away and Draco knew he was not imagining the extreme blush on his face. “Well, usually, yes,” Harry said gruffly. “Only…”

“What?” Draco demanded, sitting up in alarm despite the spinning it caused him. “Say what you’re thinking. Am I dying? Is this a particularly potent bond? We both know you’re the plant guy around here, so out with it.”

“No, it’s just…” Harry hesitated. “Well, I mean, the root hasn’t been studied on people who are… erm… already…”

Draco suddenly understood. “Oh,” he whispered.

“Yeah,” Harry returned, now the colour of a beetroot. “I think maybe I wouldn’t have noticed. That’s why I didn’t get the headache.”

Draco stared at Harry for a moment, taking in the implications of that last phrase; surely, Draco thought, even he was not this clueless? Yet, it seemed that that was what Harry meant. He seemed to be convinced that he was the only one who would not have noticed a sudden influx of flirting, attraction, desire for one’s Auror partner.

Ignoring the dizziness, Draco made a decision; he crawled forward toward Harry and gently took his glasses off his head. He didn’t want to break them. He kept advancing until he was leaning into Harry, then kept going. He slowly backed them both onto the floor and let his weight collapse onto Harry, who didn’t seem to be breathing.

“I have a headache because I can’t bear to be more than a foot away from you,” Draco whispered, pinning Harry to the floor a little less gently. “So which of us do you think would have noticed first?”

He kissed Harry gently. He didn’t want to be gentle; the hum had grown louder, but it was warm and comforting. He wanted to ravage this man right here on the floor, wreck him for all others, possess him until there was no doubt in his mind that Draco felt the same way. He didn’t even really care if it was only the bond that made him feel this way. He managed to restrain himself only because the distant memory of an approaching Healer balanced with sudden irritation. He pulled back and smoothed out Harry’s hair. Harry took a deep breath, likely the result of lack of oxygen.

“You realise, of course, that we have to kill Weasley and Zabini now,” Draco said quietly. Harry grinned. “Do you think they knew?” 

“Draco, not to be indelicate,” Harry replied, drawing his arms around Draco’s waist and pulling him back down to him. “I think that it’s possible everyone knew?” 

#drarry #oneshot #it's too long to be a drabble #auror potter #auror malfoy #bond #plant based bonding? #also there's some accidental side blaise/ron that i may look into later #smirk smirk

[187-thirst]

Is Kabu a Football player or a Baseball player???

I forgot completely how his pokeball throwing animation looks more like a baseball throwing rather than a football throwing...

Imagine how sick it would be if Kabu just randomly kicked the pokeball into the battlefield.

#midnight tuber thought

[nyeusigrube-haven]

Inbox of Diana Smoke: Thanksgiving Drabble

12 pm: Rosemary

Rosemary Marinitch ran her "to-do" list through her mind as she looked around the sprawling kitchen of the Briar Patch farm. Butcher-block counters were piled high with sweet potatoes, beets, carrots, mushrooms, cranberries, and assorted other fruits, vegetables and tubers.

The venison mince pie was almost ready to come out of the oven; the dessert pies and the bread pudding had all been done for hours. The sweets-and-beets could share the oven with the turkeys, Casper and Nixon... both named by Mare's youngest brother, Jay, who had apparently been in a whimsical mood that spring and was now hiding somewhere in the back yard in order to avoid any semblance of "helping." Now headless, plucked and brined, Casper and Nixon were patiently awaiting their apple-pecan cornbread stuffing.

The acorn squash, stuffed mushrooms and au gratin potatoes were all done, ready to be put in the oven and re-warmed shortly before serving...

She paused to take a deep breath.

Since Mare had taken over cooking from her father, Thanksgiving had always been a wonderfully frantic day. Including several local family friends, they normally had about a dozen people, but this year the number would be higher. Most of the Vida family had accepted her invitation, shocking her to the core, and some of them had asked whether it was all right to bring guests. Even her cousin Nathan had promised to show up.

On the other hand, Mare knew all her guests well enough to know that a good half-dozen of them were at risk of cancelling at the last minute.

The doorbell rang.

She took a deep breath and braced herself.

4:00 pm: Sarah Vida

Sarah woke, groggy, at four in the afternoon. Christine was gently shaking her shoulder, and reminding her, "Sarah, you asked me to get you up. It's Thanksgiving."

The reminder probably wouldn't have been sufficient motivation if she hadn't known that the family had pushed Thanksgiving dinner to five in deference to their newly-vampiric niece's solar challenges. In previous years, they had eaten at about one in the afternoon, an hour Sarah suspected she wouldn't comfortably see for quite a while.

People kept saying things like, We'll see. It's different for everyone, when she asked how long it would take her to adjust so she could be awake during the day, but she had figured out that they meant, No one really gets over it, but if you're powerful enough, you can endure.

"Thanks," she said to Christine, as she rolled out of bed and shook out her hair. Being undead had a few- only a few- unexpected advantages. Vampires didn't sweat, or secret oils, or shed skin cells, or perform any other messy mortal processes. This made showers unnecessary unless one spilled something on oneself, or wanted to bathe purely for the comfort value. It also greatly lessened travel time. All that combined, and meant that Sarah had time to get dressed, feed, and make it to dinner in time.

With her feet still bare, she padded downstairs to see who else was around.

She found Nikolas in the dining room, but it wasn't Kristopher seated at the rarely-used formal table with him.

By this point, Sarah was getting used to seeing individuals whose faces she had memorized from pictures in the Vida's collection of targets. She tried to avoid staring, and was almost always able to avoid saying the first thing that came to her mind. Sometimes she chose to be tactful, and just backed away slowly.

In this case, she spoke the instant she thought. "What the fu-"

"Sarah," Nikolas said, rising with enough of a guilty start that she was sure he knew exactly why she was upset. "I'm sorry, our meeting ran late."

"Sarah Vida," the other vampire said, standing with a smile and an offered hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm-"

"I know who you are." There wasn't a cell in her body that wanted to shake that hand, so she ignored it until it lowered. She had spent a month learning to play nice with other vampires, but there were lines. This was a line.

"Excuse us," Nikolas said to his guest, before stepping forward, catching Sarah by the arm, and guiding her to the next room. It wouldn't give them privacy- vampiric hearing was too good. He just wanted to get them out of each other's sights.

"I have been nice to Kendra," Sarah hissed, "and I have been polite to Kaleo. I love you and Kristopher despite what I know of your history, which you have to admit cuts pretty damn close to home. But if you try to convince me to dissemble and shake the hand of one of Midnight's trainers, by the goddess I will do it with a blade in my hand and I don't care what you say about consequences."

Jaguar stepped into the doorway, but wisely chose not to acknowledge Sarah before saying to Nikolas, "I left the documentation on the table. Good luck."

He disappeared. At Sarah's glare, Nikolas said, "He's changed, Sarah."

"I. Don't. Care," she bit out. "He worked for an empire that tried to make my entire species extinct, Nikolas. For centuries, he deliberately tortured and enslaved innocent humans... not to mention shapeshifters and witches whenever he could get them. If he's changed, great. Maybe he can keep walking the Earth. But I will not associate with one of Midnight's power-players. I can't."

She recognized the expression on his face, which meant he was trying to decide between handling her to avoid an argument, or going with tough-love.

She decided first. Nikolas couldn't back out of this argument, but she didn't have time for it now.

"I'm going to feed, then head over to the Briar Patch. I'll see you and Kristopher later tonight."

"Should-"

"Later," she snapped, interrupting him before he could shove his foot further into his mouth.

4:08 pm: Kyla Cobriana-Vida

"Vemke'tasa," Kyla swore, as she raced for the showers. She had overslept. If she didn't seriously hustle, she was going to be late for the first family holiday she had ever been invited to... and it wasn't easy to hustle here.

She had to climb over three other people to get out of the sleeping area and into the common room. It wasn't that they were all normally nocturnal, but they had been up all night working on a particularly tricky intre'marl with Stefan, and then a few hours more partying. They had all crashed sometime around eight in the morning.

Good judgment? Maybe not. Worth it? She hoped so.

Most serpiente didn't celebrate Thanksgiving, so her nest-mates were going about their daily routines like always, which meant the showers were busy at this time of day.

As long as she didn't try to claim a crown, something she had no desire to do, the serpiente didn't care that she wasn't legitimate. The vast majority of serpents weren't. That meant she got all the advantages of cobra blood without any of the responsibilities, which meant people got out of the way and let her duck under one of the shower heads without objecting.

Normally, there was some fooling around here- you couldn't have a communal shower without people playing tricks like hiding each other's clothes- which meant Kyla didn't keep her street clothes in the dressing room. Buck naked except for a towel wrapped around her long black hair, she went back to her cohorts' den. They had been warned about how important this day was to her, and threatened with skinning and dismemberment if they dared do anything that could mess it up.

When she got there, they were all awake. Stefan had her street clothes laid out for her, and Alicia was readying a hair-dryer and clips. Luke was blinking sleep from his eyes, but greeted her with an encouraging smile.

They didn't understand, but that didn't matter. They wanted to help.

The thought brought tears to her eyes- followed immediately by rolling nausea.

I can't do this, she thought.

"Sit down, girl," Alicia commanded, as Kyla froze in the doorway, fighting panic. "We'll get you all primped to go have a fancy dinner with your mother's folks. Just remember, no matter what, you're one of us. You're beautiful, you're talented, you're proud. Got it?"

4:28 pm: Michael Arun

It took Michael Arun quite a while to remember where he was when he woke up.

Patchy carpet under him. Thin blanket half over him. Knife digging into his side- just the handle, thankfully, since it was still sheathed at his waist. No bruises, though he'd had those before going to bed, too.

He was in a slightly run-down motel. He was on the floor because Rant and Rave, two crow shapeshifter sisters whose real names were never uttered, had taken the bed and this rat-trap didn't have a cot or even a couch.

It did have a television, on which he vaguely remembered watching a ten-hour marathon of Supernatural. He was pretty sure there had been a drinking game associated with it, but in the glaring light of day sneaking around the edges of the closed curtains, he couldn't remember what rules they had been following or even what they had been drinking.

He put his head back down.

It had been a good party, anyway, celebrating the conclusion of a multi-day hunt in which they had been stalking a nest of vamps that had managed to make themselves the feudal lords of this tiny town. Vamps were gone now, and the town of wherever-they-were was marginally safer. Michael couldn't wait to see what SingleEarth told the terrified populace.

On second thought, yes he could.

He didn't know what day of the week it was, never mind the date. He considered checking his phone, but if he turned it on he knew he would probably have messages, and he didn't feel like answering any more distress calls yet. He wasn't even sure if it was November or December.

December would be better. November had been the month from hell.

Putting his head back down on a makeshift pillow made of a rolled-up sweatshirt, he closed his eyes again. Another eight hours of sleep seemed like a good idea.

4:30 pm: Nathan Marinitch

Won't be able to make it to dinner this year. Love you all. Happy Thanksgiving. Don't reply.

Nathan Marinitch sent the text to his cousin Mare, and then deleted any evidence of sending it and tucked the ultra-slim phone into the inside pocket of his suit jacket.

A bird fluttered to his side, sharing images of the local landscape. The American kestrel Nathan was honored to have as a companion could see vivid colors that had no words in human language. It refrained from perching on Nathan's shoulder because its talons had a tendency to leave noticeable marks in his suit jackets. He couldn't afford that at the moment.

By the time he approached the stronghold, he knew the exact location of every guard, every gun, every hostage, every door and window and bolt-hold.

He cast Kestrel back into the air. Her fierce cry was silent, purely mental, so it would not draw attention. Nathan focused his power, seeking out threads of energy from every living creature around him.

He checked his watch. He had twenty-seven minutes.

4:39 pm: Zachary Vida

In the past, Zachary had always followed Dominique's lead when it came to holidays, which meant that like her he had put the hunt first. Thanksgiving usually meant camping out with a container of Chinese food and a few other hunters while they discussed the upcoming season.

Some people loved the holidays. Some people dreaded them. Hunters knew that the days between Halloween and Valentine's Day tended to be bloody. Few vampires celebrated the birth of Christ or the triumph of the Maccabees, but they enjoyed revelry and over-indulgence just as much as any human.

This year, Olivia had convinced him to take a break and relax for the holiday- though she had not convinced him to join her and her friends. Instead, he had accepted an invitation to the Briar Patch, the Marinitch family home. The invitation had been extended every year for as long as he could remember; sometimes he had remembered to decline, but just as often he had forgotten. He almost hadn't had the courage to say yes this time.

When he had, though, Rosemary Marinitch hadn't even paused. She had continued the phone conversation as if he had been a figure at their Thanksgiving table every year of her life.

Now he was in the car with Diana Smoke, another witch he had rarely given the time of day previously. Rosemary had arranged for Diana to give him a ride; conspiratorially, she had explained to Zachary, "I know Diana. If she isn't responsible for someone else, she'll get pulled into work and won't get to the house before Christmas." He wondered if she had told Diana the exact same thing. I know Zachary. If he has to drive himself, he'll chicken out half-way here.

She would have been right.

It made for an awkward car ride, however. Their occasional attempts at small-talk failed. Zachary's life might have taken a strange turn a while back, but he still didn't have a lot in common with the woman considered the heart and soul of SingleEarth.

Well, no, there was the fact that they were both trying to hold together the shattered wreckage of everything they had ever cared about. If they had wanted to, they could probably have had a lengthy conversation about that.

It was a long, silent drive.

4:44 pm: Jeremy Francisco

Oh, to be a fly on the wall... and feel like, at any moment, the swatter might come down.

Jeremy Francisco stepped into the Briar Patch feeling like he was on the verge of explosion, or implosion, or something along those lines. He had certainly never been happier not to be a witch, since he knew perfectly well what such powers could do when combined with high emotions.

With his brother's hissing voice still lingering in his mind, he was certainly experiencing high emotions. "It's all about you, isn't it? It always has to be all about Jeremy!"

He had wanted to reply, "Yes, Dave, my wedding is all about me," but he knew better.

SingleEarth had pamphlets titled things like, How do I tell my family? He could vividly recall reading one specific piece of advice, echoed by numerous others: Telling your family about the paranormal probably means challenging a deep-seated world-view. Even in the best of circumstances, you may face anxiety and denial, which can come out as anger.

We advise against announcing your status to a group. Talk to your family members one-on-one, so you can appeal to their reason and offer the support they need to cope with new and often frightening information. Save big holidays for announcements of weddings, graduations and promotions. Announcing that humans are not alone and you are now a shapeshifter at the Christmas dinner table is more likely to make people remember "the year you ruined Christmas" than it is to inspire good will and tolerance.

Jeremy had followed half of that advice.

He had pulled his brother aside an hour or so before the Thanksgiving turkey was due to be served. They hadn't been as close since high school, since they had followed different paths, but at least Dave wasn't a vampire hunter. If Jeremy could win him over, he would be an ally.

It didn't work that way.

"I've proposed and she said yes," went very well.

"There's something I need to tell you..." didn't go quite as well.

Jeremy left before dinner, with Dave's parting shot- "I'll tell Mom you had some kind of emergency at that stupid clinic where you work"- echoing in his ears.

He tried to shake off the strain of the confrontation as he pulled onto the dirt driveway of the Marinitch family home, a large ranch set at the edge of several acres of farmland that had long ago mostly gone fallow. Some had been reclaimed by neighboring woods, and other parts had been deliberately filled with native plants. Only one acre was still cultivated, with a combination of herbs, fruits and vegetables.

4:45 pm: Jay Marinitch

From three acres away, Jay could hear his sister Mare fuming. At this distance, he should have been able to tune her out, but she would have known and that would have made her even angrier.

Nathan had just bailed at the last minute... again. Caryn, who was supposed to be helping Mare cook, was as nervous as a fly on a griddle because Jeremy hadn't arrived yet or called to say how late he would be. Zachary and Diana were supposedly on their way, though Zachary's voice had sounded strained when he had called Mare to say they had hit some traffic. Sarah should be there any moment.

Should he wander in and offer assistance?

Or would that just frustrate her more?

He wasn't much help with-

JAY! I know you're hiding out there!

Strictly speaking, Mare was not telepathic, but she had always had a unique way of communicating clearly within her own family.

Wincing, and wishing he'd had the sense to be out of range, Jay trudged through knee- and waist-high brush and grasses before traveling carefully between rows of actual tended plants and then slipping discretely inside. A glance at the clock he passed revealed it to be 4:49 pm.

"How can I help?" he asked, as he found his sister frantically trying to remain calm as she attempted to add final touches to four different dishes in the vast kitchen.

"You're not dressed," she snapped.

He glanced down. Shirt. Pants. Even shoes. Seemed sufficient. Mare's glare made it clear that this was not acceptable for Thanksgiving, however, so he wordlessly retreated to his room.

"Your cat is sleeping on your clothes," his brother, Vireo, remarked as they passed on the stairs. "Mare left one of those sticky tape rolls in the guest bathroom. Use it before you come back down. And brush your hair!"

And here Jay had been so proud of his forethought in setting out his Thanksgiving clothes ahead of time, to make sure he had all the pieces and they all still fit.

Jerk, he thought to the Canadian lynx, who was indeed curled up on top of Jay's amber-green dress shirt and tie. Both items had been picked out and personally approved by Mare, which meant he couldn't switch them for something else even if he'd had anything else.

Cat's faces were not made for grinning, but Lynx pulled it off somehow anyway.

I'm going to get some turkey, Lynx announced, as he jumped up and rubbed against Jay on his way out the door.

Jay heard the cars and other ruckus downstairs as he dressed and diligently de-furred himself, but there was no way to prepare for this confrontation. He had to force himself to walk downstairs, where he stepped into a fog of anxiety, frustration, and fury concealed behind strained but smiling faces.

Across the room, Vireo met his gaze with his own apologetic one. Why hadn't Jay taken Michael up on his invitation to go hunting this week, instead?

5:45 pm: Rosemary Marinitch

Vidas were nothing if not prompt, but other guests straggled in late, as if five in the evening was an absurdly early hour to have a Thanksgiving dinner. Finally, though, all of them were gathered around the tables... including Jay's Canadian lynx, who had insisted on having his own chair at the table.

Two large mice, having been granted a reprieve by Nathan's last-minute cancellation and Kestrel's resultant absence, were now enjoying a feast of carrot greens, apples and cranberries before they were due to be released back into the wild... unless Lynx got bored of turkey before he was as stuffed as Casper. Mare's bond, a female Hanoverian, was keeping company with her father's greyhound; both were happy to avoid the stressed-out crowds of people, and to indulge in their Thanksgiving gifts. Vireo's fox was delightedly pigging out on a mouse-berry pie that Mare had assembled and set out on a mat for the fox, who had no intention of placing himself in a chair. Two barn-cats, though not bonded to any particular witch, had nevertheless also been invited and were happily sharing in scraps.

In deference to the sensibilities of both the people and the poultry, none of the turkeys had been invited.

Except Casper and Nixon, of course.

Mare had given up on socializing with the other people as soon as everyone had been introduced to each other and dinner had been served. Vireo did the work of engaging people in conversation, breaking the ice and the tension both, until Jay finally stopped looking like he was going to faint and actually started to eat.

Now that everyone was talking, occasionally laughing, and smiling in a way that didn't need to be faked, Rosemary's job was done.

At least until the dishes needed to be washed.

#nyeusigrube #tdos #the den of shadows #post-ajg #sarah vida #nikolas ravena #sarah #nikolas #jaguar #rosemary marinitch #jay marinitch #jay #michael arun #diana smoke #Vireo Marinitch #Kyla cobriana vida #zachary vida #zachary #clips/scenes #inbox of diana smoke

[peterstanslizzie]

Re-watching Lizzie Mcguire: Episode 1.25 (Facts of Life)

We should give this trio a group name. I mean, Andi Mack has the ‘Good Hair Crew’, which comprises of Andi, Buffy and Cyrus. So, it’s only fitting that we give this group a name. Any ideas?

- Gordo has too many eggs in one basket; On top of having to finish three book reports and a science project, he decided to burden himself even more by joining glee club. This is so he can diversity his school resume with non-academic activities. 

- Side note: It’s cool that the writers acknowledged that Miranda had joined glee club back in episode 1.14 since it was kinda randomly thrown into that episode. 

- Mr. Escobar clearly isn’t impressed with his students’ singing chops and urges them to practice at home. After their glee club session, Lizzie suggests to her friends they should try out for the ‘Fact-athlon’. They don’t think it’s a great idea since Gordo is already under a lot of stress.

Getting a reward is always good motivation

- But when Lizzie brings up the fact that the winners will get a free trip to Miami, the tone suddenly shifts from nay to yay. Plus. this would be a nice addition to Gordo’s already packed resume. 

Bring it on ‘Fact-athlon’!

Preparation

- Lizzie and Miranda are busy studying and quizzing each other History facts in Lizzie’s living room. Gordo arrives and is supposed to bring donuts for his friends but he ate them on the way. That’s literally me lol. 

- Gordo mentions to them that they need to get a faculty advisor for their team. Lizzie suggests a teacher who has a huge head but apparently, Kate has already snatched him; So I guess Kate’s also competiting in the ‘Fact-athlon’. Luckily, Gordo says they have Mrs. Trimmer as their back-up. 

“What does a cannibal call a phonebook? A menu”. I don’t think jokes are Lizzie’s thing lmao.

- The next day in school, Gordo draws up a study plan that recommends 4 hours of studying each day in preparation for the upcoming competition. I have a lot of respect for those who are willing to put themselves through these kind of things, even if it’s all for a prize. 

- We come to find out that Mrs. Trimmer has left the country (for no stated reason...) and Mr. Dig will be replacing her as their advisor for the ‘Fact-athlon’. I think Mr. Dig is great and all but good luck to them lol. I will still give him the benefit of the doubt though. 

Team Lizzie vs Team Kate

- We come to find out later that ‘Team Kate’ comprises of her, Claire and Larry; Smart strategy to rope in Larry. Team Lizzie is about to start their study session with Mr. Dig and they brought in with them every math book they can get their hands on from the school library. 

- But with Mr. Dig, you can’t expect to have a conventional study session with him; The only study tool he’ll be using to teach math is a deck of cards. This doesn’t sit well with Gordo because he feels that they should be studying from books and not from playing blackjack. Gordo and I share the same sentiment on this. 

- But after getting teased by Miranda for being an “old man at 13″, Gordo decides to go along with Mr. Dig’s creative way of teaching Math, Science, English and History. And we then get to see a montage of him doing just that. 

No shade but Team Lizzie is just clowning around whilst Team Kate is actually doing the proper preparation for the ‘Fact-athlon’. Don’t get me wrong, Mr. Dig’s method of teaching by showing is definitely effective but when it comes to a trivia competition, cramming facts into your brain as much as you can in a short period of time is the best strategy. 

Day of the Fact-athlon

Team Kate is getting down to business but as you can see, 2 of the 3 members are a nervous-wreck

VS

Team Lizzie seems confident but maybe a little too confident

- The competition then kicks off with English History and Team Kate is owning Team Lizzie from the get-go. As expected, Team Lizzie doesn’t know all the black and white facts like the dates and names when it comes to historic events. 

- As Team Lizzie continues to get creamed in the ‘Fact-athlon’, Lizzie comes up with a plan to get out of the competition without forfeiting by telling Gordo to fake being sick and asking Miranda to trigger the water sprinklers. They follow the plan accordingly and manage to get themselves out of the embarrassing situation they were in. If I were them, I would be worried about getting punished for doing all of that lol.

I love how Gordo committed to his fake heart-attack though 

- After the whole fainting and water-sprinklers fiasco, Team Lizzie are sitting on the stairwell suffering from their epic defeat. Team Kate rubs in their faces that they’ve lost so badly that Mr. Dig is quitting as a teacher. Yikes! Now things are getting serious.

- The find Mr. Dig packing his things from the classroom and they plead with him not to quit. They tell him that they’ve learned a lot from him and he has shown them that learning can be fun and how seemingly boring subjects like World History can be interesting. Now that’s the ultimate goal of a teacher; To inspire his/her students.

- Also, it turns out that going to Miami wasn’t the best prize for Team Kate:

Kate got bit by sand fleas, Claire stepped on a sea urchin and Larry got extreme sunburn. Wow, they were really unlucky over there.

B-Plot: Matt and Lanny are Starting A Band

- In the kitchen, Matt asks his parents if they have any musical instruments lying around the house that they can borrow. Sam suggests his old guitar he had used when he was in his own band with his cousin and his friend called “Midnight Sam and the Love Patrol”. Matt, Lanny and even Jo don’t seem impressed with this and they even laughed at the idea that he was in a band. 

The song they were playing in this video was actually pretty good. I wonder if it’s an actual song in real life?

- Before I continue, I have always wondered why isn’t Matt in school for majority of these episodes whilst Lizzie is? I know this is a fictional show but it’s a funny pattern I’ve been noticing for quite some time now. 

- Anyways, they are holding auditions to find a third band member in the backyard and Matt’s parents seem to be okay with the idea; They are such chill parents, I can’t. After viewing a bunch of ‘meh’ performances (well I thought that the oboe player was pretty good), they finally get a good audition...from a grown man by the name of Rick Marotta.

This is an adult who wants to be in a band with a couple of kids....I have questions

- I looked up Rick Marotta and he’s legit a big-time drummer in real life! His credits include playing with Linda Ronstadt, James Taylor, Steely Dan, John Lennon (as mentioned in the show) plus Carly Simon, Stevie Nicks and Randy Newman. Woah, impressive! But anyways, he is the best one so far and he gets the gig! Later, they start playing together for the first time and let’s just say, they don’t sound too good.

- It then escalates to the point where Sam and Jo can’t even stand the sound of them playing anymore. It’s cute how they don’t want to disappoint Matt by telling what he can or can’t do but if I were them, I would definitely put my foot down and ask them to stop the ruckus. Like please.

- We fast forward two days later on Sunday and Matt’s band is holding their first ever live performance and I must say; They look stylin’:

And they gave an incredible performance. Bravo! Of course it’s unrealistic for them to get so good after a short period of time but hey, I can definitely let this slide. 

- In the end, however, Matt and Lanny want to move on to another hobby instead of continuing on with their band *facepalms

Overall Thoughts

- I really enjoyed re-watching this episode. They did a great job making an episode that centers around a ‘Fact-athlon’ quite entertaining. Plus, the writing and the dialog used in this episode was really witty. Kudos to Douglas Tuber & Tim Maile for writing this episode. 

- I also like how they showcased the contrast between traditional ways of studying versus interactive/non-conventional ways of studying. Obviously, the former is more effective when it comes to trivia contests/quizzes but the latter makes students enjoy and really soak up what they’re learning. I also have to give props to Arvie Lowe Jr. for doing a great job as Mr. Dig in this particular episode. I loved seeing the bond between him and Lizzie, Gordo and Miranda. Teachers like him are absolutely gold.

- As for Matt and Lanny’s storyline, it was pretty good. I obviously don’t care about it as much as I do with the A-storyline but I definitely have to give them credit for their performance towards the end of the episode; It was great and I also like how Matt/Lanny didn’t annoy me as much as usual lol. 

#lizzie mcguire #disney plus #hilary duff #disney channel #facts of life #lalaine #adam lamberg #hallie todd #robert carradine #jake thomas #rick marotta #drummer #backyard band #episode recap #episode review #fact athlon #arvie lowe jr #trivia quiz

[drlaurynlax]

How to Prep for a Colonoscopy Naturally?

Preparing for a colonoscopy is no fun task—especially if you want to do it holistically or you follow a Paleo or Autoimmune Protocol (AIP diet). 

If you’re wondering “what to eat” or what to expect the day before a colonoscopy (and how to survive with a holistic colonoscopy prep), here’s all you need to know. 

Standard Colonoscopy Prep Instructions 

In the big scheme of things, colonoscopy prep and procedure really only involves about 48-hours of your time. 

In order for the doctor to be able to fully see clearly into your colon with the scope, all needs to be clear, which means: 

Fasting for about 24 hours prior to the colonoscopy 

Ingesting a large amount of special “poo juice” (i.e. stool softeners and laxative)

And making friends with the toilet for the latter part of the day

Some doctors will suggest you eat a softer foods diet at least 3 days prior to the appointment in order to make things easier to pass and this can be helpful, but may not be 100% necessary to do.

Unfortunately, however, colonoscopy prep ALSO typically includes some non-holistic rituals that can make one who is used to eating a real food, Paleo or AIP-based diet think twice.

Additional (Non-Paleo Friendly) Colonoscopy Prep Recommendations

Non holisitc colonoscopy prep instructions the day before your exam may include:

Drinking Gatorade and Propel to re-hydrate with electrolytes

Sucking on sugary popsicles and candies

Eating Jell-O 

Drinking Kool-Aid and sodas

In other words: Starve. 

You Can Do Anything for a Day

True, your fasting colonoscopy prep diet is really ONLY for a day (you can do anything for a day—even buck your usual “norm”!), but, if you’re NOT used to blood sugar rushes, food dyes and artificial sweeteners, even one day of these things can feel long and agonizing. 

If anything, the MAIN objective of your colonoscopy prep is ONE thing:

Stay hydrated and keep your electrolytes in balance.

—Which is EXACTLY where I personally went wrong. I’ll briefly share with you what I did “wrong” during my Colonoscopy Prep—and how it went down—then give you a play-by-play of steps to take and what to eat in order to have an amazingly easy Colonoscopy.

My Colonoscopy Prep Gone Wrong: What NOT to Do

Long story short: My colonoscopy prep went south QUICKLY because I missed ONE step—I failed to ingest ENOUGH electrolytes during the day!

The result? A midnight trip to the local Emergency Room where I spent 3 hours with  my body in “shock” from dehydration as the ER staff nourished my electrolytes back to balance with an IV pump.

I’ll admit, when I saw the words “Gatorade” + “Miralax” as part of my colonoscopy prep, I did not think TWICE about substituting out water for the Gatorade. 

I don’t remember the last time I drank Gatorade.

However, looking back on it, I understand WHY the docs prescribe the artificially sweetened beverage—electrolytes.

Electrolyte 101

Your body loses a TON of water, sodium and potassium during the Prep do to all the poo you will be doing. If you DON’T have enough of these minerals, then you can bet your bottom dollar that your body will be in shock!

I Went into Shock

Somehow, I managed to make it the whole day, just fine, no real difficulties, minus hating going #2 every 45-60 minutes near the later hours of the day.

However, come 10 pm as I laid my head down on my pillow to rest, it all of a sudden hit me:

Lightheaded and dizzy

Cold sweat on my brow

Heart beating faster

Shortness of breath

I thought I was having a “low blood sugar” dip from not eating all day, so I raced downstairs to try to get some last minute nourishment in before I was restricted from all liquids at midnight for am 7 am procedure. 

Ten-minutes later, I began walking back up the stairs to climb back in bed, and the next thing I knew, I knocked on the door to my mom’s room who was in town to help me out, saying, “Mom, I don’t feel well…” and…

Passing out. On the floor.

To say the least, the event was very traumatic, as I began shaking and convulsing on the floor. 

“Lauryn! Lauryn!” my mom cried, and the next thing I knew, the paramedics and ambulance was there to “save the day.”

The prognosis? Severe dehydration and electrolyte imbalance.

I was rushed to the ER where I was “rehydrated” and nourished with IV fluids, while hunger pains and lightheadedness still continued (I couldn’t wait to eat) and I was encouraged to stick out the procedure—only a few more hours to go. 

I managed to “make it through,” find out some much-needed information about my own gut health that’s been awry for a LONG TIME —and decide I don’t want to go through that for a LONG TIME.

However, looking back on it all, had I followed the following advice I am about to give you here, I would have been just fine!

The Moral of the Story

In short: Bring on the coconut water, sea salt and Ultima powder! (hydration and electrolytes)

The good news? Yup, you (or I) don’t have to turn to just Gatorade to get these electrolytes.

Don’t let my colonoscopy prep story scare you, but INSTEAD use it to encourage you in HOW to prep for your colonoscopy holistically—especially if you are looking for a Paleo or AIP-friendly approach to doing so. 

Holistic Colonoscopy Prep in 3 Steps—Paleo & AIP Friendly

Step 1: Begin Eating Easy-to-Digest Foods 1-3 Days Before Your Prep Day

This step is not ESSENTIAL, but most folks don’t complain when they DO eat with “easy digestion” in mind 1-3 days leading up to the Colonoscopy Prep Day.

Essentially, this means, avoiding some harder to digest foods like: 

Nuts & Seeds

Raw Veggies & Raw Fruits

Breads, Crusts, Crackers & other Grains/Glutenous Foods

Pork (slower digesting protein)

Aim to eat:

Smoothies

Bananas, cooked apples or pears/apple sauce

Cooked, sautéed and steamed veggies (cauliflower mash, steamed broccoli, sautéed greens, etc.) 

Starchy tubers (cooked and cooled)

Shredded and flaky meats and fish

Pastured eggs (if you tolerate eggs)

Healthy fats (avocados, ghee, butter, coconut butter, etc.)

Some directions will tell you to “AVOID” meats, coconut, avocado and leafy greens, but I found by prepping these well, I had no issues personally with keeping to my usual diet.

Step 2: Stock Up on These Goods & Prep Any Foods You Need

Hit the store a day or two before your prep to ensure you’ve got the goods you need.

Grocery List

Coconut Water

Vital Proteins Collagen Protein or Equip Protein Powder  

Cold Pressed Green Juice

Ultima Lemon Electrolyte Powder  

Bone Broth  

Gelatin & Fresh-Squeezed Juice (NO red, blue or purple)—to make “Jell-O” or popsicles

Sea Salt (add liberally to your broths and juices)

Foods you love for your Post-Colonoscopy meals since you’ll be taking it easy that day. Some ideas:

Green Smoothie: Coconut Milk, 1/2 Banana, 1 Scoop Protein, Greens, 1/2 Avocado

Shredded Chicken, Sweet Potato, Greens, Coconut Butter

Canned Wild Salmon, White Sweet Potato with Ghee, Asparagus

Ground Turkey (sausage), Butternut Hash, Steamed Broccoli

Pastured Eggs (scrambled), Mushrooms, Avocado, Spaghetti Squash

Meatloaf Muffin, Cauliflower Mash

AIP Pumpkin Muffin with Coconut Butter, Chicken Apple Sausage

Chicken & Veggie Bone Broth Soup 

After your grocery run, take an hour or so to prep a few goodies to have on hand for your “Prep Day.” Here are some ideas:

Holistic Recipes for Colonoscopy Prep Day 

Easy Paleo Jell-O by Wellness Mama

Homemade Popsicles-AIP, Paleo

Golden Milk Popsicles by My Heart Beets

The Ultimate Coconut Popsicle by Coconut Mama

Bone Broth Soup by Phoenix Helix

Green Juice by Stupid Easy Paleo  

Step 3: Eat & Drink THIS on Colonoscopy Prep Day

Technically, you are told to stick to liquids only on prep day. In my personal experience however, I ate my typical breakfast of turkey sausage, avocado, pan fried greens and roasted carrots before 9 a.m. on my prep day—and am glad I did because I don’t think I would have made it.

The good thing? I was fully clear by that time and prepped for my 7:00 am procedure. 

Here’s a sample idea of what to eat in the 24-hours leading up to the procedure.

8:30 a.m, (20-24 hours before): Eat a balanced real-foods meal 

12 p.m,: 8-12 oz. Coconut Water or Lite Coconut Milk with Collagen/Protein Powder; Green Juice Prep: Take Ducolax Tablets

1 p.m.: Begin Miralax Prep in Water with Ultima Powder. Drink 8 oz. of the prepared prep

mixture every 15 minutes for a total of 32 oz. (HALF OF PREP MIXTURE). Add a pinch of sea salt to your mix.

3 p.m.: 16-20 oz. Bone Broth with Collagen & Sea Salt, Gelatin “Jell-O” or Popsicles (made with Green Juice)

4 p.m.: Take 2 Ducolax Tablets with some Coconut Water & Sea Salt

5 p.m. Prep #2: Drink 8 oz. of the prepared prep mixture in Ultima every 15 minutes until the last 32 oz. are finished. Add a pinch of Sea Salt to your mix. 

6 or 7 p.m.: 16-20 oz. Bone Broth with Collagen & Sea Salt, “Jell-O” or Popsicles

9:30 or 10 p.m.:Ultima Powder in Water or more Jell-O or Bone Broth if “hungry”

Aim to “eat” every 2-3 hours, and drink liquids with electrolytes throughout the day. You will be “liquid full,” but to keep hunger at bay, incorporate collagen and protein via broth or powder in the day. 

Bonus: Day of the Colonoscopy 

You can’t eat or drink anything (except maybe suck on some ice chips), the day OF the colonoscopy (at least 2-4 hours before the procedure) so your food doesn’t mess with the anesthesia. 

That said, I KNEW I was pretty hungry going into my colonoscopy, so went ahead an prepared my post-procedure meal—one of my faves:

Post-Colonoscopy Meal

Ground Turkey Patty with smashed Avocado

Roasted Rainbow Carrots

Pan-Sauteed Greens in Coconut Oil

—My doc said I could go back to eating regular foods as tolerated, and I was able to tolerate this just fine. 

As a back up, I kept a Banana with Coconut Butter, Green Juice and simple Beef Isolate Protein Powder to mix up on hand IN CASE I couldn’t stomach food…but I was golden (and never as happy to eat again as I was after everything was said and done).

The End

Voila! 

Before you know it, your colonoscopy will come and go, and you’ll be back to your norm—doing what you love to do. 

My GREATEST colonoscopy “mishap” was NOT drinking enough electrolytes during the day (since I thought water could replace Gatorade). Had I ensured I got my electrolytes in through coconut water and more holistic powders (like Ultima), I believe my experience would have been a breeze!

After the procedure, I slept for about 2-3 hours on the couch at home after eating—so thankful to be well-fed—and then popped up, ready to start the day!

While I did take the day off from my usual routine (driving, gym, etc.), I did go to town with spring cleaning my apartment, stretching at home with my own yoga practice and working on my latest book outside in the beautiful spring sunshine. 

You will be JUST FINE and live to tell about it…just don’t forget to hydrate 🙂 

The post How to Prep for a Colonoscopy Naturally? appeared first on Meet Dr. Lauryn.

Source/Repost=> https://drlauryn.com/hormones-metabolism/how-to-prep-for-a-colonoscopy-naturally/ ** Dr. Lauryn Lax __Nutrition. Therapy. Functional Medicine ** https://drlauryn.com/

#Holistic #Nutrition #Therapy #Recovery #Functional #Medicine #Dr. Lauryn Lax #Dr.Lauryn

[rosethornewrites]

Tuesday T & G reading

The usual

Finished

Tumblr:

Fem!wwx/lwj childhood friends, by @stiltonbasket

ljy is the son of nmj and lxc, by @stiltonbasket

lwj/wwx drabble, by @floreswrites

MingLi, by @guqin-and-flute

Teen:

aftereffect, by justdoityoufucker

When the dust settles, when Jin Rulan is officially granted the title of leader of Lanling-Jin and Nie Huaisang has taken the mantle of Chief Cultivator, Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji receive an urgent letter. Cutting their travels short, they head south-east from Shangqiu and arrive back in the Cloud Recesses of Gusu-Lan a month before a conference is to be held in the Unclean Realm. A conference to discuss the fate of one Jin Guangyao.

-

Or, the one after it all.

Insanity, by feline_somnambulist (2nd in a series)

He’d just meant to visit his friend after being left home alone unexpectedly. Only to find himself moved, part and parcel, into an apartment in Qinghe. With Nie Huaisang as his new roommate and a surprisingly happy outlook on his new life.

Nie Mingjue, who had been brought in to the plan, and Lan Xichen, who had not, lured Jiang Fengmian to Gusu during the time the cursed graduation party should have been taking place. They did so under the guise of consolidating business interests to better withstand Wen and Jin encroachment into their markets. Jiang Fengmian couldn’t miss the opportunity.

The party date was thus moved back by two weeks.

General:

A Crane in a Flock of Chickens, by neolith

With decades passing, the reputation of the Yiling Patriarch has taken on life of its own, branching off into a great variety on extravagant tales. Wei Wuxian decides to have some fun with it (and with his husband).

Lanes in Libraries, by neolith

Lan Wangji is teaching seven-year-old Lan Yuan to write, when the boy has other ideas. An unbidden trip down memory lane ensues.

I don't like your boyfriend (I think you need a new one), by lazulisong

Lan Zhan is late, which is completely unlike him. Lan Huan pulls out his phone, with a mental apology to his uncle, who would stroke out if he saw one of them using a phone in a restaurant. The phone rings once - twice - and just when Lan Huan is getting genuinely concerned, his brother answers the line. "This is Lan Wangji."

"It's me," says Lan Huan. "Are you on your way?"

There's a bare second of extremely shifty silence before his brother says, "I've been delayed."

at the midnight hour, by yukla

As he has been for the past two hours, Lan Zhan is standing across the room, shoulders tense, very determinedly not acknowledging Wei Wuxian.

Wei Wuxian stares at the sweep of his hair, the slight flush of his neck, and something twinges in his chest. Look at me, he thinks. Look at me, just once.

Wei Wuxian spends his New Year's Eve longing for Lan Wangji.

Colourless in Your Absence, by Keysmashed

Lan Wangji bent down again to replant yet another lotus tuber into the wet soil of the pond outside the Jingshi. Lotus was known to be strong and resilient but sometimes, even the strongest flower could not escape the wrath of nature, losing all its splendour until all that was left of it were memories of how beautifully it once blossomed.

Just like Wei Ying, Lan Wangji thought.

Frappuccino, by Latigra

Lan Zhan has a meet cute at the Starbucks. Or a second meet cute. The anxious version of that.

我的蓮花 (My Lotus), by Mischief0managed

Wei Ying plans to build a lotus pond in the backyard of the Jingshi, and has revelations.

Or,

Lan Zhan is totally enamoured of his husband and calls him cute endearments.

the brightest of envies, by doyeorem (pomellogranate)

“Zhangfu," he says quietly, teasing. "Welcome home."

or

Airen, Airen, Airen - important things must be said three times!

Unfinished

Teen:

Love Song In Reverse, by timetoboldlygo

Wei Wuxian gasps back into life without a single memory left. His friends, his siblings, his home — all lost to the fog in his head, nothing more than a mystery slipping through his fingers. What else was there to do but carry himself around in bits and parts, trying to become whole, a letter waiting to be written? He is – he is Mo Xuanyu, isn’t he? In this body, with these people. This family. He has to be Mo Xuanyu, he didn’t know anything else, even if the name sounded wrong. That was all he had.

Well, that and Hanguang-jun.

Lan Wangji, for his part, has had his taste of love and lost it. In all his grieving and searching, he didn’t expect to find another.

-

Wei Wuxian gets resurrected, loses his memories, and falls in love.

General:

Been There, Done That, by FlautistsandPeonies

By some trick of fate, Wei WuXian is sent back to the beginning of the Sunshot Campaign at his time of death. Determined to save not only himself but also his family from the cultivation world’s mechanisms, he will have to throw himself into a world of lies, deceit, and politics once more. But first, he must win a war.

#the untamed #mo dao zu shi #untamed fanfiction #mdzs #cql #chen qing ling

[ambivalentangst]

Hold Me Tight Under the Moonlight

This is my work for @voltronexchange , for @happygaytrain / @jinkoroll featuring Keith and Lance as childhood friends, with faery!lance. Surprise! I hope you enjoy it, it’s been a pleasure to create for this event!

   Keith had never exactly been an ideal child. He was too thin, too haggard and shrewd in a way that made his foster parents constantly check to be sure their wallets were as they left them. Keith was small too, a wisp of a creature that was more versed in landing a good kick in someone’s teeth then spreading his arms for a hug. He never made friends, not with the way his hair hung in his face to cast an ominous silhouette over his eyes. Keith was scary, and that was that. Then, naturally, Lance came along. Keith found him one day in the forest, hanging upside down from a branch by his knees that somehow seemed to blend in with the bark.

   “Who are you?” Lance had snarked with crossed arms and an upturn to his nose that was dismissive enough to make Keith want to sock him in it.

   “Who are you?” Keith fired back. Lance lifted his chin contrarily.

   “I asked first, fleshy.” Keith, at eight years old, could not argue with that logic.

   “I’m Keith.”

   “I’m Lance.”

   As there would often be in future squabbles as well, there was silence for several lingering moments. Then Lance asked if Keith had washed his hair recently and so he spat in his eye. Lance smacked him and then they rolled into a nearby brook in the fight that followed. Keith returned to his foster family sopping wet, pissed as hell, and swore vengeance the next day.

   Lance and Keith grew to be fast friends in the process of carving slingshots and chasing each other with mud stolen from the banks of the stream. Keith never asked why Lance wasn’t at his school, or why when he looked at him out of the corner of his eye he could see a creature that was not at all human. In return, Lance called him fleshy less and started clipping him on the shoulder instead of the back of the neck with various ammunition he sent flying with eery accuracy from those slingshots he was so very good at making. At nine, Keith had run to the forest he was sure to find Lance in with angry tears on his cheeks. Lance sat with him in terse pause while he waited for Keith to explain. Keith didn’t notice the way Lance’s shoulder brushing his felt more like a mass of thorns then skin and bone.

   “I don’t get it,” he muttered, his voice pulled taut with fury. “Why are they so mean, Lance? I just want to play with them. Not always, not even every day. Just enough so that recess doesn’t feel so lonely.” Keith hated the way the gum in his hair stuck to the back of his neck, hated the brown grit spread all over his face and shirt because they’d shoved him into a rain puddle and he’d gotten a worm stuck to his cheek. Lance gripped his hand, and when Keith stared at he could swear it pulsed and shimmered with golden light, and that where Lance’s fingers normally were there was instead dark oak, wound through with the deep emerald of vines. His voice was not so boyish, not so human when he spoke.

   “Keith, I will always let you stay with me,” he promised with a sound like the gales that assaulted Keith’s house in particularly brutal storms, and Keith shed more searing tears that Lance dutifully wiped away. Lance said nothing more, and Keith turned his face into his familiar embrace to cry in the shadows cast by the foliage

   The next day it rained hard, and within a recess that was only permitted with a wary glance cast towards the sky in its moment of reprieve, Keith saw the boys who had pushed him down get their ankles scratched by thorns that had somehow grown overnight. He knew it wasn’t very nice, but when he walked into the forest that day after school a smile was back on his face.

   Lance was a constant, growing as he did with his ivy touch and eyes that sometimes seemed more like knots of tubers and jewels then muscle. Keith could come crying to him with anything and everything, and the next day he’d be happy again by some miracle or another. He finally had a foster family that stuck, though they didn’t understand why Keith so devotedly ran off to the woods every day. It was when they were older, after an afternoon spent bemoaning school work while Lance complained of his older sister that Keith was prepositioned for a dance. Lance was a flushed, nervous mess as he suggested that he come to where they were currently later that night, and that he would be waiting. Keith was wary, naturally.

   “You’re not going to kill me and dump my body in the creek, right?” Lance was indignant.

   “It pains me to think you think so low of me. You, my dearest fleshy, deserve much better then a hasty midnight murder.” They’d both laughed, but then a calm had settled over Lance. “Keith,” he began very slowly, very carefully, in that voice of his that sounded so very strange.

   “Tonight, you might see something you don’t like, okay? A-And if you really don’t like it, you can leave. I won’t mind. All I want, all I ask, really, is just one dance.” Keith had only snickered, and shoved Lance into the water. By the time he’d come back up with a glare that could kill, Keith was laying back on a rock with his tongue stuck out at his chain of sloppily strung together expletives.

   “It’s just you, Lance. No matter what you do, I’ll never think of you any differently.” Keith was too busy clinging to his rock in an attempt to stay dry to make note of the adoring relief on Lance’s face at his words.

   That night, Keith slipped out of the window of his home and past his sleeping foster parents as well as the fluffy bundle of hatred they called a cat, to the forest. It was different without the light of day. Patches of moonlight were his only guide, stepping nimbly down the path he knew by heart. In the clearing he normally found Lance in, there was something odd. At first he thought it was a rock, or perhaps a tree. It was tall, dark, and foreign in the night. It made Keith’s skin pucker, but he took a hesitant step forward.

   “Lance?” he asked carefully, cautiously. He didn’t want to be the white person in every badly done horror movie, but Lance had promised he’d be there and he never let him down. Besides, it was their forest. It wasn’t dangerous. Keith listened to his voice echo before dying out, and then the thing moved.

    Keith was a scrappy kid. He had no problem punching someone, enjoyed it, even. Fighting was fun, but when the seven foot tall beast of unknown origin stirred there was a certain fear he had never felt before that gripped him tight with unyielding force. His feet felt like they were encased in cinder blocks, trapped in place. An embarrassing whimper escaped him, his amethyst eyes blown wide. The thing was enormous, with limbs that hung loose and gangly from their misshapen sockets. In what Keith barely recognized as a face there was nothing but a tangle of roots, with two sapphires pulsing deeply somewhere inside. There was no nose, but there was a mouth. Spindly, finely sharpened teeth were shoved inside, about as inviting as the jagged stab of rocky mountains piercing the sky. Keith could swear that in the moment they appeared to be tinged red.

   Keith screamed, and then the creature lunged. Suddenly there was a hand, bark and leaf all at once clapping over his mouth with brutal power that still managed to remain gentle. Keith could not even have blinked in the time it took.

   “It’s okay,” the monster cooed, and Keith stared at it in wonder and no small amount of fear because he knew that voice. It whistled like wind through the treetops, comforted him when he cried about things it never understood. That was Lance’s voice.

   “I-I-” Keith stuttered, and Lance drew back with what might’ve been a wince. He was draped in a rotted conglomeration of honey comb and ivy, a cloying smell wafting unpleasantly into Keith’s nose.

   “I’m sorry,” he told him. “You can leave if you want. I just needed you to know the truth,” he admitted softly, looking at the moon. Keith stared at him, at how long and strong his limbs were, acting faster then anything natural should be able. When he looked back to Keith he thought Lance looked scared. Even without the features he knew so well there was a certain set to his jaw and waver in his stare that made him recognize such insecurity. Keith did not run, despite that his body screamed at him to do so. He mustered the frankness that often left Lance sputtering excuses and shoving him to the floor for a good wrestling match, the latter more so when they were younger.

   “I always knew you looked weird,” he teased, and just like that the tension melted away. Lance laughed, and Keith ignored that it sounded more like a woodpecker chipping away at a tree then a human sound.

   “Shut up, fleshy,” he snapped, but his tone was arch and Keith paid it no mind. He settled in next to him, forcing himself not to flinch at the broad, solid expanse of timber that had replaced his skin.

   “What are you, anyways?” he demanded to know. Lance’s enormous head swiveled, and Keith couldn’t help but to swallow thickly under such a gaze.

   “A faery, you heathen. You’re telling me you didn’t have any idea?” Keith scoffed, looking away with a roll of his eyes.

   “You don’t have wings,” he protested, and Lance made an offended squawk that rumbled in the back of his throat.

   “Most of us don’t. That’s a myth, by the way. Wings are completely impractical, if you really think about it. Trying to lift yourself up into the air when you can already do pretty much anything more quickly than the eye can register? Dumb.” Keith spread his hands in a placating motion, already regretting his words, or more accurately, that they’d incensed the ever opinionated Lance.

   “I get it, I get it,” he was quick to tell him, and Lance stilled. The moon had lowered a little, but they still had time. There was a quiet again, and Keith squirmed under the weight of Lance’s jeweled stare.

   “I asked you for a dance,” Lance reminded him, and Keith nodded.

   “Yeah. You did.” The words were flat and lacked verve, presented awkwardly with dead weight. Lance chuckled nervously, that same inhuman sound.

   “A dance is important to us, Keith. It’s, well-” Lance broke off, and had he looked human Keith would guess he’d be blushing “-it’s like a claim. If you dance with a faery once, you have to come back to dance again. That way the cycle keeps repeating, and we never lose those we love.” Keith stared at Lance incredulously.

   “You want me to keep coming back?” Lance looked away and twiddled his thumbs, which was an interesting look coupled with his current appearance. Keith could care less, and felt a telltale wetness at the corners of his eyes.

   “I don’t want you to ever leave, Keith.” Again, a hush, and then Lance offered a lengthy, wooden limb to him. Keith was proud to say his hand only trembled a little as he took it, and had Lance pull him into his vine ridden chest. They twirled under the light of the moon, swaying and bowing with the wind. Keith liked the moss damp on Lance’s palms, the softness there that couldn’t be found in the version of him he’d more commonly known. He thought they’d had an unspoken agreement to not mention the tears leaving fat tracks on Keith’s cheeks, but then Lance had to clear his throat and open his mouth

   “Are you crying?”

   “No!”

   There was a beat of dead space, and then the faint sound of Keith bashfully placing his forehead on Lance’s chest to hide the heat to his cheeks.

   “A little.” Lance tossed his head back to laugh in his own unorthodox way, and though he was more alien and more different and more dangerous then Keith had ever known, he still found comfort in his happiness. When he glanced at his arms he could see the faint outline of flesh and blood, but he didn’t mind knowing the truth of what laid underneath either. It wasn’t perfect and Keith still had plenty of questions but Lance was still Lance, and Keith wouldn’t want him any other way.

#voltronexchange2k17 #keith #lance #klance #voltron: legendary defender #can be interpreted as platonic or romantic #there's love there regardless #this got quite a bit longer than I intended but it's fine and I like the end product #ambivalentlangst #ambi exchanges