#like and i mean full on soft blocking and three post vague blocking levels of tantrum

[alongtidesoflight]

.

[bunposting]

House Rabbit Society Bullshit - 5 Years Later

I considered just reblogging the OG post (check it out if you haven't seen it - the Masterpost of House Rabbit Society Bullshit) and adding this to the reblogs, but then it got long enough to be its own post. So! Without further ado...

Thank you to @/threefeline for mentioning this in the tags of the original post! Man, has it really been a whole entire 5 years?!

Well, I got curious and decided to check it out so that you, dear readers, don't have to! (or like. you could go do it yourself anyways. but why give them the clicks?)

Man. On the surface, has a lot changed. In fact, it changed so much that I almost fell into the trap of believing that maybe the organization itself has changed. But let's talk about what I found...

Time for one of my famous rambles! Oh boy! (there will be a TL;DR at the very end lmao)

The organization hasn't changed in any way that really matters. They are still essentially PETA for rabbits specifically, but the website has changed an awful lot (I barely recognized it). And, I have to admit, they made a teeny tiny bit of progress on at least one of their stances.

That tiny bit of progress pertains to diet. On their diet section, they are no longer strictly advocating for a diet of 80% hay, 10% veggies, 5% pellets, and 5% fruit/treats. Thank goodness!!!!! What they have isn't too much better but.... it's progress. Here's the update:

This is the first graphic on the diet page. There's. A lot to unpack here.

First is unlimited hay. That's standard of HRS, we've come to expect that from them. Offering unlimited hay to your rabbits won't kill them (though it might screw up their teeth in the long run, according to some studies), but if you're giving your rabbits a complete feed pellet, you'll probably just end up wasting hay because they won't end up eating a ton of it.

Next is "minimum 2 cups chopped vegetables." UM. THAT'S. DANGEROUSLY VAGUE MY GUYS. At least before they specified it should be leafy greens?????? If I was just the standard civilian looking to adopt a rabbit and I saw this, I might think this includes things like cucumbers, carrots, peppers, etc. Feeding a rabbit 2 cups of vegetables like those per 6 lbs of body weight per day would KILL a rabbit. Holy shit.

After that is 1/4 cup pellets. First of all - 1/4 cup is much more than what they used to advocate for, so I guess that's progress. But uh. Fun fact. The average serving size of a good quality complete feed pellet for a 6 lb rabbit when on a maintenance diet is... get this... just a bit over 1/4 cup (roughly 1/3 cup, but it also depends on breed/activity level/management style/etc.). Mind you - that's for a good quality complete feed pellet. Meaning technically the rabbit doesn't need to eat literally anything else. But HRS in this graphic is saying that a rabbit should be getting almost a full serving of pellets on top of 2 cups of unspecified vegetables on top of unlimited hay per day??????? Again, what a fantastic way to kill a rabbit. If the GI issues don't kill it, the obesity certainly will.

But hey, at least they are now specifying that treats should be given sparingly rather than making up a whole 5% of a rabbit's diet.

What an absolutely insane graphic to start this page with. It gets better, though.

After this graphic, they go into a bit more detail. Of course, they still believe hay helps to file down a rabbit's teeth better than pellets or chew blocks. Lol.

But then we get to the thing about the vegetables and here's where things get really interesting (and also extremely contradictory).

Quote: "Rabbits should get a minimum of three different types of leafy green vegetables daily to help them obtain the vitamins and nutrients they need." Ok, glad to see we're specifying leafy green vegetables now at least. That's cool I guess.

Quote immediately after that: "Eliminate any vegetables that cause your rabbit to have soft stool or diarrhea. Every rabbit is different, and you’ll need to find what foods work best for your rabbit, based on their health and sensitivity to certain foods." Sooooo what you're saying is that fresh vegetables can be risky to feed, considering diarrhea can be a death sentence for a rabbit. Interesting. But I'm supposed to be feeding 2 whole entire cups of this stuff per day, right????

Quote immediately after that: "Take this list along with you the next time you’re out shopping for vegetables to try feeding your rabbit" (list of safe vegetables for rabbits was after this.) Oh! Try feeding vegetables! So it's not a requirement! Thank goodness.

Next sentence: "Leafy vegetables should make up about 75% of the fresh portion of your rabbit’s diet. Non-leafy vegetables should make up no more than about 15% of your rabbit’s diet, or about 1 tablespoon per 2 pounds of body weight per day." 75% of the fresh portion of my rabbit's diet should be leafy greens... ok... so I'm guessing the fresh portion they're talking about is those 2 whole entire cups they mentioned before... which supposedly aren't super required I guess??? I have no idea. But now they're saying that 15% of my rabbit's diet - not 15% of the fresh portion, but 15% of my rabbit's entire diet - should be non-leafy vegetables. That's a lot. And also another really great way to kill your rabbits via GI problems.

The next sentence after that: "Due to the emergence of Rabbit Hemorrhagic Disease Virus Type-2 (RHDV2), House Rabbit Society recommends washing all vegetables for at least two minutes, in a bowl, changing the water several times." MY RABBIT CAN GET RVHD2 FROM EATING VEGETABLES?!?!!?!?!?!??!?!?!? WHY TF WOULD I FEED IT VEGETABLES THEN?!!?!?!??!?!?!?!?

Wow. That was a whole lot of contradictions. I'm all worn out. But let's see what they have to say about pellets. This should be good.

HRS' official current stance on pellets is (*drumroll*): "A good quality pellet should be relatively high in fiber (18% minimum fiber). While nursing mothers and young rabbits need to eat a lot of pellets, it should make up less of their diet as they grow older. Alfalfa-based pellets are fine for young rabbits, but timothy-based ones are preferred for adults."

YIPPEE WAHOOOOOO THEY ACKNOWLEDGE THAT PELLETS ARE GOOD ACTUALLY!!!!!!!!! (*the crowd goes wild*) There's that progress I was talking about!!!! I mean, 18% is low for a pellet feed but I guess if you're feeding mostly hay and giving less in terms of pellets that's fine for maintenance. But like. Why not just take the guesswork out and feed a higher fiber complete feed pellet to begin with. Anyways, nitpicking aside, I actually really like that they aren't vilifying pellets anymore, are acknowledging the importance of pellets for young rabbits and nursing does, and aren't saying that alfalfa-based pellets are going to kill your adult rabbits like they used to. Timothy-based pellets can absolutely be preferred for adult maintenance, that's totally fine, but preferred doesn't mean required. That's a huge win imho.

The next section goes on about treats and fresh fruits. They for some reason still say that fruit can be up to 10% of your rabbit's diet (yikes?????? that's actually even more than what they used to say??? at least they're not requiring it now I guess) but they do specify that it shouldn't be much more than a teaspoon per day, and they acknowledge that hay-based treats are healthier.

OK. Diet section aside, not much else has changed. They still say rabbits should have a ton of room and that wire is "dangerous for rabbits' feet" (lol), they still advocate for spaying and neutering, etc. etc. I will say I'm not seeing anything about needing to have rabbits in bonded pairs anymore, so that's a bit of progress too, I guess.

Initially, I was really impressed that it seemed like they weren't continuing to spout anti-breeder and anti-meat rabbit rhetoric anymore........ until I scrolled down on their "about" section. I'll say, they're hiding it better than they used to, because when you look at the about page at face value, it doesn't look like there's much else to see other than their "how we got here" statement. Then we get to their mission/value statements:

Mission statement, save and improve domesticated rabbit lives, eh. If I was an average person I'd be like yeah ok, typical rescue behavior. Then we get to the vision statement: Improving their legal status certainly raises alarm bells for me. As soon as we get legal status involved, that's when we start venturing out of animal welfare and moving more towards animal rights. But again, average citizen would still be like yeah ok. Cool I guess.

But further down, we get their actual list of values... waaaay past their whole board of directors that no one will want to read and will probably click away from the page immediately after seeing rather than reading further.

Again, all of this is hidden AFTER their board of directors list. Which is interesting.

Their policies, their beliefs, and what they are striving for has not changed whatsoever. A quick glance at their website might have you believing that it has, but no. This proves it has not.

Further down, we finally get to their position statements, which you can only find by clicking a hyperlink at the very bottom of this page - there is no easy way to get to it.

Their statement on meat rabbits is... exactly what you would expect: They are against raising rabbits for consumption by anyone for any reason.

Their statement on fur remains that they are 100% against fur, though they have amended their statement on angora wool to specify that, if someone is spinning wool gained from grooming their pet angora, that is perfectly ok to use in their opinion. That seems like it should be a no-brainer, but I saw someone keeping an angora 100% to HRS standards who posted something they made with the rabbit's wool get absolutely torn to shreds in the comments by HRS supporters for using the wool at all, saying that the wool should have been thrown out because the angora owner was "exploiting" their rabbit. So. Having this be specified hopefully at the very least prevents that from happening again. They are still against angora wool from literally any other circumstance, though. Because of course they are.

Then comes their statement on breeding. They specify multiple times on multiple occasions that they believe all rabbits should be spayed and neutered (again, if that happens, no rabbits would be able to breed, and we would no longer have domestic rabbits), but in their statement on breeding they simply say that they believe breeding rabbits should not happen whatsoever until the "overpopulation crisis" has been solved. I shouldn't have to say what a flawed stance on breeding that is. If there aren't rabbits being bred, if all rabbits are spayed and neutered, then there will be no rabbits left to breed once the "overpopulation crisis" is solved the way they want it to be solved (i.e. by all unhoused rabbits being adopted as pets). They can say all they want that their real goal is to make sure no more rabbits end up in shelters, abandoned outside, or (in their words) as "snake food" (poor snakes), but unless the ultimate end goal is to eliminate all domestic rabbits, the way they are advocating for solving this problem will always hurt more than it helps.

WHOOF. What a journey. Thanks for taking this journey with me, folks. Remember: a reputable breeder who gets their information from experience, from other reputable breeders, and from well-conducted scientific studies will always be one of the best places to learn about rabbits from, NOT a group that can't even create an agenda that won't ultimately harm, kill, or even eliminate domestic rabbits entirely.

TL;DR: No, House Rabbit Society really hasn't changed. They have updated some of their statements for the better, such as changing their stance on pellets from "pellets are trash" to pellets are actually a good feed option, but their positions on rabbits, rabbit meat, and rabbit breeding remain the same albeit even more hidden than they were before.

[ectoentity]

Warped Mirror

Decided to write something based vaguely on the “Spork AU” idea. Instead of Episode 1 Danny meeting Episode 50+ Danny, though, I was curious about a Danny who never became Phantom meeting one who had. This first part is just establishing Human!Danny’s world.

I’ll post it to AO3 when I have the rest of it finished.

---

Three kids stood before a giant machine in the shape of a door. It should have been humming along and glowing green, with a great hole to another world in the middle. Instead, it was cold and silent. 

“They spent years working on it,” Danny explained, “and then nothing. Mom and Dad have been moping in their room all day.”

Tucker looked around at the portal and the hodgepodge of computer parts attached to it. “It’s probably a loose wire somewhere. I’m sure they’ll figure it out.”

“In the meantime, this would make for an awesome picture,” Sam said with a smile. She held up her polaroid camera. 

“Oh no, you’re not getting me anywhere near that,” Tucker immediately walked away from the portal.

“Come on! When they get this thing working we’ll never be allowed near it. Besides, it’s not like it’s going to do anything right now.”

“Then why don’t you get over there and let one of us take the picture?” Tucker asked.

“Because neither of you know anything about lighting or framing a shot. Please?” When she saw that Tucker was not going to budge, she looked over at Danny with wide, pleading eyes. 

He looked anxiously at the portal. So far none of his parents’ inventions had really worked, but that didn’t mean that they weren’t dangerous. Still, Sam was right. It was pretty cool, and getting a picture with the thing could be a good way to keep a memory.

“Yeah, okay, let me put on a jumpsuit in case there’s a live wire or something.”

Ten minutes later he was suited up in the white-and-black safety jumpsuit his parents had made for him. It wasn’t really a hazardous materials outfit - there was no full hood or respirator, or even goggles. It was made of something that was supposed to repel ectoplasm and certain chemicals that his parents used and was insulated against minor shocks, so it would have to do. 

“Oh, no no. I’m not taking your picture while you’re wearing that,” Sam announced. Danny was about to argue, but she reached over and pulled the sticker of his dad’s face off of the suit. “Now you’re good.”

Danny laughed. “Good thinking, Sam. Wouldn’t want to be immortalized in your photos with that on me.” He walked up to the portal. It was a massive piece of machinery, nearly six feet in diameter and deep enough to fit a car. He paused at the entrance. It was hard to imagine it as anything other than a creepy machine in the basement. If it had worked, it would have opened into a whole other world. 

Tucker, meanwhile, was watching while anxiously tapping a foot. He had expected Danny to give in to Sam’s pleas. He was so predictable and utterly clueless. One of these days they would both realize that they were both desperately crushing on each other and they’d-

There was something plugged into the wall. Tucker wasn’t sure what it was, but he had a bad feeling about it. 

“Hold up!” he shouted. Tucker went over and unplugged the cord from the wall outlet, and checked around for more outlets just in case. When he didn’t find anything else, he called back, “Okay, I think it’s alright now.”

“Good thinking, Tuck,” Danny’s voice echoed in the portal. “Hey, Sam, is this good?”

Sam set up her shot. “Looks great! Just hold there a second.” She counted down before the flash went off. The camera whirred and produced a polaroid. “Lemme take a couple more,” she said before swiftly doing so from slightly different angles. “That should be good!”

Danny started to walk out of the portal. Something caught his foot. He tripped and fell backwards, flailing his arms wildly in hopes that he would catch something. His right hand hit the side of the portal. It stabilized him for a second, but then the wall clicked. Danny stared down at his hand, a chill lancing up his spine. He hadn’t hit the wall. His hand was resting on a button marked “ON.”

“Oh my god,” he blurted.

“Danny? Are you okay?” Sam called. He could hear them both scrambling toward the portal. 

“I’m good! I just tripped!” Danny got out of the portal as fast as he could. “My parents put the on/off buttons on the inside! If Tucker hadn’t unplugged it…” All three teens stared at the portal. Danny could have died, just for tripping over a stupid wire.

Finally Tucker gulped and broke the silence. “Want to see if your parents can get it to work now?”

Danny shook himself out of it. “Yeah! I’ll go ask if they forgot about that.”

They all but ran out of the lab.

---

The Fenton RV sped down the street, ghost alarms blaring. In the back, Danny got his weapons together as quickly as he could with all the jostling and swerving. They’d let Dad drive; time was of the essence.

“A level six!” Jack crowed from the driver’s seat. “Maybe even a seven! How long’s it been since we saw one like that?”

“About four months,” Danny grumbled. He still vividly remembered when the town had been drawn into the Ghost Zone and besieged with an army of skeleton constructs. He was not looking forward to a repeat of that hell. The Fenton Blaster in his hands whined as he attached the power source. 

“We’ll have to be careful, Jack,” Mom cautioned as she always did. “We don’t have the Ecto-Skeleton this time.”

“Are you sure we shouldn’t call in the Guys in White?” Danny asked. They might not be the best ghost hunters, but they did have a lot more firepower.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Danny! I’m sure we can take care of this before they even notice something’s happening. Besides, your mom and I are still dealing with the paperwork from the last time they showed up.”

Danny shuddered. He was extremely glad that he didn’t have to deal with that aspect of ghost hunting. 

His dad pulled up to the mall with a loud honk of the horn and squealing tires. Danny and his mom ran out, blasters held at the ready. Dad backed them up with one of the Fenton Bazookas. 

The mall was already evacuated. Some people milled around outside, anxiously talking amongst themselves. In the year and a half since the ghosts had started attacking the town, people had gotten frustratingly complacent about them. The invasion a few months back had shown most people just how dangerous they could be, but a stubborn few always were more concerned with getting good pictures than their own safety. 

“Make way!” Mom shouted. “We’re here to take care of the ghost!” The crowd at least did part for them. A few people shouted at them. Some of it was words of support. A few tried to describe what they had seen - it was green, it was wearing all white, it was terrifying. Only a few made jokes or jeered at the Fentons as they passed. That was annoying, but it was a hell of a lot better than it had been a year ago. 

The deserted mall was an eerie sight. Everyone had left in a hurry, leaving lights on and store music still echoing through empty halls. The Fentons’ footsteps seemed far too loud. The weirdest part was that everything seemed intact. When the technology ghost raided the mall he usually left trails of rubble and discarded packaging everywhere. The box ghost would leave piles of everything that he dumped out of his beloved boxes. Various other ghosts had attacked the mall in the past, and they almost always left signs of their passing. Why was this one different?

“Come out, ghost!” Dad shouted, his voice easily carrying through the empty mall. “Let’s make this quick!”

“Curious.” The voice was quiet, but had the same unnatural echo of all ghosts. Danny held up his blaster, but he couldn’t tell where the voice had come from. Beside him, his mom turned on her miniature Fenton Finder. It beeped alarmingly quickly. 

“Two o’clock!” Mom shouted as she fired. Danny was only a moment slower, trying to fire a little ahead. The blasts didn’t connect with anything. 

“I mean no harm,” the ghost said. Its voice was way too close for comfort. Danny turned to his right and shot where he thought it was, but he still missed. 

“What do you want?” Danny asked. He didn’t really care. No matter what their obsessions were, ghosts only ever wanted to spread chaos and pain. Still, sometimes he could distract them by talking back. 

The ghost appeared in front of them. It was tall, with dark, green-tinged skin and a lighter beard. Its eyes glowed a soft yellow. A white robe and hood covered most of its body, rippling in a nonexistent breeze. 

A green beam from the Fenton Bazooka blasted towards the ghost. Its torso split apart to allow the beam to go through it. Danny grimaced. It was so gross when they did that. He followed his dad’s lead and started shooting the ghost. The ghost blocked all of his and Mom’s shots with a series of small green shields. 

“This is entirely unnecessary,” the ghost huffed. It had the audacity to look bored. 

“Then why not just go back to the Ghost Zone and leave us alone?” Danny shouted, annoyed. He ran off to the side, flanking the ghost. It finally started dodging the ectoblasts. If anything, though, the ghost just looked amused. 

“Oh, I shall. First, though…” The ghost flung its hand out towards Danny. He winced, anticipating the burn of ectoblasts. He took a step back and his foot sank. With a shout, he fell into the glowing green portal that had opened right behind him.

[jakey-beefed-it]

Had our second session of the new campaign w/ Goblin Squad’s DM (down two members who burned out on D&D, hence the new campaign rather than continuing which is understandable but still I’m very much not over my boy Altanin and will be looking to get him some resolution somehow) and it went well- two of the PCs (my 1/2 drow Hexblade/Rogue Arylla and my sister’s tiefling Bard Rose) are doing well bonding and caring about each other, and we’re gonna drag the other one (my fiancee’s human Paladin, actual name secret, referred to only as ‘The Dark Paladin’ or ‘Deep’ for short) along and annoy her into liking us. 

We blundered into Plot early in the first session, when a badly injured aasimar guy literally collided with my rascal-with-a-heart-of-gold and she was like ‘Well, shit’. He was carrying some sort of Tome sealed through arcane means that a lot of people were after- at least one of the two major religions in the setting, as well as a really spooky one-eyed lady who explicitly warned us to turn it over or else make an enemy we’d come to regret. Like any good D&D party, we chose to make an enemy.

We got the aasimar guy to some help (mostly at the insistence of my character who has Issues with people dying on her) and took his book and left town, trying to get it to the guy who he was trying to get it to. Got some really vague lore about what it contains- ‘knowledge’ which is apparently sufficient to ‘reshape the world’. Not the sort of thing a trio of level one (two now!) characters can really take advantage of themselves, but two of us also have potential people we can turn it over to in order to fix some of our backstory ‘mistakes’ (which weren’t ethical mistakes, just ‘mistakes’ in the sense that they pissed off powerful people). So naturally we’re discussing the possibility of maybe giving it to the Bard’s ‘patron’ (her father; she’s a noble bastard) to get power and influence, especially since it turns out that the aasimar’s contact is apparently a priest for the other major religion in the setting and none of us is especially keen on empowering an institution we’re not a part of. None of us is religious; Rose was raised among a backstabby royal court and mistrusts everyone to have an Agenda, Arylla had a bunch of tragedy in her life and concluded ‘the gods don’t care about us so why should we care about them?’, and the Dark Paladin specifically is an ex-cultist who now hates every religion.

I think Ryl is the one most motivated by Ethical concerns right now which is kind of hilarious given that she’s also the one who agreed to make a Pact with a Dark and Terrible entity that she knows is Bad News based on the idea that it could at least help her get a Dark and Terrible Revenge on some very nasty people. Rose isn’t immoral, just very practical and keen on recovering her quasi-noble status, and Deep is kinda stuck in full-on Survival Mode at all times, like, not considering the morality of anything so much as ‘is this likely to help or hinder my survival’. She’d absolutely eat us if we died in the wilderness and there weren’t better or easier things to eat. That’s what living among lizardfolk does to ya I guess.

It’s fun playing a party of varying sorts of gremlin- tricksy fast-talk gremlin, sneaky urchin gremlin, and blunt survivalist gremlin. I’m having fun playing a character who is emotionally intense but in a different way from Altanin- she’s got like, alllll my rejection-sensitive dysphoria and is more likely to be the sort to grab the collar of a badly injured party member and yell that they’re not allowed to abandon her die just like her brother. She’s kinda the thematic opposite of Altanin- instead of a larger than life born hero who’s flagrantly soft-hearted and open and loving, she’s a sneaky little urchin who’s secretly soft-hearted and desperately lonely but covers that as best she can. Which isn’t especially well despite her high deception skill because I want her to bond with the other PCs :V

Anyhow I’ll probably post updates about how this campaign is going as it continues to go, even though that’s of interest to probably like negative three of you. As such, if you want to block it, the tag remains ‘Jake plays Dungeons and Dragons’.

[iridescentjin]

Teaser! Full fic coming in December 2020!

Background: Most people know about the eruptions of volcanoes like Mt. Vesuvius, Mt. St. Helen’s, Mount Fuego, and Eyjafjallajökull, but beneath the surface of the earth exist 20 supervolcanoes. The largest regular volcanic eruption in recorded history spewed 50 cubic km of material. Mt. St. Helen’s: .25 km³. In comparison, the last supervolcano eruption exploded with more than 2800 cubic kilometers of material. So what would happen if 3 of the calderas in one of these systems erupted at the same time?

Summary: After the eruption of the Yellowstone, Island Park, and Henry’s Fork calderas, the state of the planet changes completely. Ash blocks out the sun and coats the streets. Millions died upon impact, and millions more from the after effects. The world is plummeted into volcanic winter, and the survivors have to relearn how to live their lives.

After years of staying put in your hometown with your best friend, Taehyung, waiting for your father to return, the two of you decide to make the journey through the Outlands to try to reach his family in New Toronto. All machinery has failed. Phones and radios are useless. Together, the two of you must survive the apocalypse to try to start a new life.

Along the way you encounter new friends, foes, and a mysterious stranger, who joins your gang but is hell-bent on revenge against the marauders who he blames for his sister’s death.

Genre: Science Fiction, Angst, some fluff, smut, post-apocalyptic fiction (just sayin…experts say supervolcanic eruption is the most likely natural cause of human extinction)

General Warnings: Death, Apocalyptic scenarios, smut, abandonment, anxiety

Credits: banner made by the AMAZING @suhdays @suhbanners

a/n: I’m not a scientist or a volcanologist, and also this is science fiction. The science might be tweaked to serve my purposes. But I have done a lot of research about the Yellowstone caldera, supervolcanoes, the end of the world, the end of the human race, other things that people with anxiety might do a lot of reading about. Also there’s more smut in this than I expected. Picked a whole bouquet of oopsie daisies.

🌋

You can’t remember a life before the Wasteland. You try to think back to fuzzy memories of your childhood, but there is nothing there. Some of your companions say they have vague memories of happy childhoods and blue skies, but you secretly think that they’re just repeating what they’ve heard from older folks.

🌋

Closing your eyes, your feet followed the sound. You were slightly wary that it could be a trap or a trick, but the melody was so intoxicating that you couldn’t stop yourself. Your legs carried you into the hall way and up the stairs. When your feet landed on the soft carpet of the corridor upstairs from you, your eyes snapped open. The music was louder here. And standing before you was the reason why. A tall, almost statuesque young man with no shoes and a violin stood before you, eyes closed as the bow dragged across the strings, creating another perfect chord.

“Uh...hi,” you mutter quietly.

His eyes shoot open, and he gasps. The bow drops to the floor, and he backs away from you slowly, never tearing his eyes from your face.

“I don’t have any food or water. Stay away.”

“No, no. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I...I live downstairs. I didn’t know that there was anyone else left in this building,” you say, reaching your hand out gently toward him as if that might provide some sort of comfort to him. Instead, he just withdraws from you further.

“Yeah right, like there was someone else living here without either of us noticing,” he rolls his eyes and stops in front of a door. His eyes dart to the handle, then it seems to dawn on him that he shouldn’t be showing a potential threat where he will be sleeping later.

“You don’t have to fear me. I’ll go back downstairs, and we can talk another time.”

You didn’t see him again for a while, but you did start to become aware of the little sounds that indicated that there was indeed someone living upstairs.

🌋

Standing before you is a figure clad in all black. The first thing you clock is the weapon pointed at you, ready to fire at any moment. Then you take in the appearance of the figure. Thick soled boots, black pants that are dotted with ash, a black hoodie with the hood pulled up, dark hair over dark eyes, and a black respirator covering the bottom half of their face. 

They stand there completely still for a moment while the four of you back away. You instinctively reach for Teahyung’s hand, accepting that after all this time surviving the apocalypse, you were going to die. Then the figure begins to lower the weapon.

“Come with me,” they say in a stern voice.

“So you can murder us?!” Namjoon exclaims, his voice slightly trembling.

“I won’t kill you unless you’ve harmed my family. I promise.”

“Well, that’s reassuring,” Taehyung snorts under his breath. Luckily, the masks that you have to wear to keep the ash out of your lungs muffle it enough.

The figure raises the weapon again and motions you forward. You all reluctantly following, probably all coming to terms with your inevitable death. The figure leads you into a drainage tunnel that dead ends at a door. The door leads to a small, cottage-esque room that is dimly lit.

You look around at the scant amenities. A small, low table sits next to a cot in one corner of the room. When you look up, standing before you is someone so beautiful that you can’t believe this is the person that stopped you on the road. He hangs his hoodie on the hook next to a leather coat and straightens himself out.

“You know, you brought us back to where you live. That seems like a pretty bad idea, doesn’t it? You don’t know what we could do to you,” Namjoon says in a snarky tone.

He’s not wrong. It’s very rare that people let anyone know where they live anymore for fear of being raided for supplies or living space.

“I’m not worried about you.”

His voice is low and sullen, and you can’t tear your eyes away from his face. His skin is flawless even though it’s the raining bits of volcanic rock and cooled magma from the sky every day. Taehyung must catch you staring because he elbows you hard in the ribs.

“What do you want with us?” you finally pipe up, taking the mask off of your face. “We don’t have anything that you want.”

“Maybe. Maybe not,” he says, dragging his eyes across the three men’s faces to rest upon yours.

He pauses for a moment, takes in your face. His mouth hangs slightly open for just a moment, and you think that you might see him blush. Then he turns his attention to a corner of the room with several pictures taped to the wall. His blushing makes you blush, and Taehyung jabs you in the ribs again.

“Stop it,” you hiss.

“Now, why I brought you here: have any of you seen this girl?” He holds up a photo of himself and a girl who looks remarkably like him just with longer hair. She is smiling in the picture, holding a lily in her hand.

“No. Sorry,” Namjoon replies curtly.

“Look closely at it. Are you sure? Her name is Nari.”

“I looked closely at it. I haven’t seen her. Have any of you?” Namjoon looks at each of us with a pleading look in his eyes.

“No,” you all answer in chorus.

The man begins to cry, dropping to his knees with tears flowing down his cheeks. All four of you gasp a little bit at the sight in front of you and look at each other awkwardly. Finally, you step forward, lowering yourself to his level.

“Hey, it’s going to be okay. It might not feel like it now, but it will,” you coo to him, hoping that you can help him feel a little better. You don’t tell anyone not to cry anymore. Everyone cries a lot more now, just a lot more quietly.

[maya-tl]

Slice of Life

Author's Note: This fic is inspired by @altruistic-skittles and their Slice of Life Sanders Sides AU, which can be found here. All worldbuilding credit goes to them, I only stitched the ideas together in writing.

Author's Note #2: Due to Tumblr restrictions, the story was split into three chapters. Next chapter will be posted on Sunday.

Honorary mentions: Keep your eyes peeled for @themicrosoftnerd and @crofters-jam , who make an appearance in this chapter!

Shoutout to Toby, who is part of the AU but sadly doesn't get a mention in the story.

This work will also be posted to Ao3 in the near future.

Link to my Ao3 profile will be at the end! Tag list will be in the replies! Enjoy!

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3

***

"Virgil~"

It's barely above a whisper, but he groans anyway and sinks into the pillow like dead weight. He swears he hears someone giggle just above him and he feels warmth through his chest.

"Virgil, honey," he feels a hand on his shoulder that gives it more of a gentle nudge than a shake, "get up. You'll miss breakfast."

The prospect of waking up just makes him settle down even deeper under the comfy blankets.

Truth be told his brain had probably kicked into gear a good while ago, but once the dreaded feeling of expectation that his alarm would be blaring into his ears any minute had passed without coming to fruition, he hadn't questioned any of it and simply gone back to sleep.

He doesn't know if he's actually gotten any rest since, but the fact that his mind is a foggy blank space probably alludes to a yes.

The mattress dips beside him and the hand on his shoulder resumes its shaking—definitely a shake this time.

"Viiirgiiil~" they say, stretching the word like it's a song lyric, and he can hear the smile in their voice even through his sleep clouded mind. "Wakey wakey, sleepyhead~"

He groans again—though it comes out more like a whine—and tries to wiggle out of the hand's reach. There's another giggle, and this time he grudgingly opens his eyes just enough to muster a glare, but even that's half-hearted and reduced useless when the offending figure leans down and plants a kiss on the tip of his nose.

He laughs softly, reaches up to rub at his eyes, and the steady warmth in his chest flares when the source of said warmth laughs back, beautiful and genuine and music to his ears even after nearly two decades of hearing it every day.

"Five more minutes?" he tries, raspy with morning voice, but even as he's saying it he's already sitting up and stretching his stiff muscles.

His answer is a peck on the cheek this time, and he can see Patton's entire face break into a smile out the corner of his eye when he leans into the touch.

That reminds him, their anniversary's coming up. He makes a mental note to get something ready in advance, even if that won't be for a few months now.

"What time is it...?" he mumbles and reaches for his phone, effectively draping himself across the bed.

"Kids are already up and about." Patton offers as he rises from the bed and goes to open the curtains.

"Wow, I outlasted Roman's beauty sleep? That's a first." he squints through the sudden flood of light and gapes at his phone screen until he's sure his eyes might roll out of their sockets. "Breakfast?? Pat, it's nearly noon."

Patton gives him a sheepish look, though his smile doesn't falter. "Brunch then? We've all had breakfast except for you and Ro—Lolo and I already had pancakes. Roman thought I batter go wake you before you turned into Sleeping Beauty—"

He snorts, both at the pun and the implication; sounds like his eldest alright.

"—and he wanted to make his own breakfast. I'll go get some leftovers ready for you, yeah?"

"If there are any leftovers..." he mumbles under his breath, before it's silenced by another kiss.

"You know Roman is too worried about his physique for that and Logan doesn't approve of pancakes in the morning. I barely got him to eat his share." Patton smiles, and it's crooked and beautiful and the sunlight beaming through the windows brings out his freckles and Virgil gets this inexplicable urge to kiss every single one of them. "Take your time getting ready, you haven't been sleeping much for the past week and I don't want you falling asleep at the table again."

He chuckles, standing up and stretching some more; he can hear the birds chirping downstairs when Patton opens the door on his way out.

Someone that sounds suspiciously like his son is talking more loudly than is necessary on the phone and he swears it's a habit he only picked up after they moved; he must've stayed up late and gotten friendly with that Remy kid at some point, because Virgil knows his 'beauty sleep' is more of an excuse to sleep in rather than an actual concern with beauty.

On second thought, knowing Roman, it's probably both.

"Oh! I almost forgot," he hears his husband, who sounds like he's halfway down the stairs, "Thomas told me yesterday that his car broke down!"

Again? He should probably ask Emile for some lucky crystals or whatever he's into these days, their soft-hearted neighbour could sure use it. That man has such a knack for trouble that sometimes Virgil finds himself wondering how he hasn't burned down his house yet.

Would be a shame too, apparently it's been in the family for generations.

"Do you mind if I drive them to the theatre today? Ro agreed to extra practice hours and his whole group of friends wants to come see how the big play's coming along!!"

Of course he did, and of course they do.

"Nah, I'll do it." he says, even though that's the last thing he wants to do today. Not that his other options are much more exciting; he mostly just feels like sleeping the whole day through. "I've got a shift in about three hours anyway, might as well waste a bit of gas."

"You're working? I thought you had weekends free??"

He pulls out some sweats and a simple black T and heads to the bathroom to turn on the shower. His work clothes are already laid out for once, look at him being productive.

"It's just a small shift, Pat, I took it up so I could have less overtime, it's a compromise."

He can hear the underlying tone beneath the innocent question, the silent implication that if his boss is screwing him over Patton can and will physically fight them, because for all his fun loving self he's also dreadfully overprotective.

He knows Patton's not convinced, but he's also learned that Patton still puts a lot more trust in him than he ever expects to receive, and just like that Virgil suddenly feels an overwhelming sense of belonging.

He loves this kind, beautiful, incredible, perfect man that he shares his life with so much he vaguely wonders if he's legally, ethically and morally allowed to marry him again.

Patton laughs again, and so does Virgil when he realizes he's spoken out loud.

How did he ever get so lucky?

***

Patton walks in on the sight of his eldest son pacing a hole into the kitchen floor, a piece of toast in one hand and a bunch of disorderly papers in the other, with his phone squished between his shoulder and his ear.

"Right?! I would make for a brilliant prince!!" he tries to get out between a mouthful of toast and jam, flailing the papers around like they were the ones who didn't give him the part. "Thomas is totally underestimating my incredible acting skills, the audition I gave was practically flawless!!"

"Or perhaps your ego has finally rendered all your other brain functions useless and you are living under the misguided assumption that you are better than anyone at everything you do."

"Nobody asked you to speak, Microsoft Nerd!"

Logan doesn't even lift his eyes from the book he's reading. As a matter of fact he flips the page over, looking utterly and purposefully disinterested in the tantrum of his older brother, who is currently at risk of choking on his food if the fact that his entire face looks like it's gotten sunburn is any indication.

"No, but you are yelling rather loudly and I am trying to enioy a quiet morning lecture." he adds, manoeuvring his cup from its place on the table to take a sip of tea without breaking the narrative he's currently engrossed in. "Not that anyone ever gets any peace and quiet in this household when you're home."

"I beg your pardon?!"

"Play nice, kiddos." Patton chides as he walks in, opening the fridge to take out a rather large stack of pancakes and some orange juice. "And Roman, quit talking with your mouth full."

Roman quietly mutters something like 'gimme a sec Val' before dropping the papers—which Patton assumes are pages of his current script if the neon highlighter marks he catches a glimpse of are anything to go by—into a messy pile on the counter, a tactful distance from the sink.

He even makes a show of swallowing to prove that he's not in any life threatening situation before propping the phone right back to his ear.

"Sorry, my dumb brother interrupted me—"

"I'm not the one actively trying to fail math after the semester's hardly begun." there's suddenly a definite edge to Logan's tone and he's giving his brother a stare so cold it's a wonder his head doesn't turn into a block of ice.

Patton knows that tone; if there's anything his little Lolo is insecure about it's his intelligence, no matter how many times he or Virgil assure him that he's not only the smartest one in the family but also one of the smartest in his school. A work friend of Virgil's they invited over once even called him a prodigy, and that must mean something coming from a therapist.

Unfortunately, Roman's impulse of speaking with absolutely no filter is just as immovable, which means their children have raised the term of sibling rivalry to a whole new level.

Patton decides to stop the argument before it's begun.

"Boys." they clamp their mouths shut immediately, as he knew they would, but he places his hands on his hips just for a little more authority. "What did I just say?"

'Play nice?' Roman more asks than answers at the same time that Logan lets out a tight 'Play nice.'

"Now, what's the right thing to do?"

They sigh in tandem and speak together. "Sorry dad." When he gives them a pointed look they share a glance and give in, both their shoulders dropping the tension simultaneously.

"I'm sorry I called you dumb, I didn't actually mean it..." there's genuine emotion in most of his eldest's apologies, because most of the time he really does blurt out his first thought without considering it and realizes it when his head's in the clear.

"I didn't mean to undermine your creative skills or make you feel inadequate in any way." his youngest is not the most in touch with emotions, but he is smart enough to know when an apology is in order and to differ between a sincere and insincere one.

He gives them a nod of approval and goes back to putting together a late breakfast, plopping the pancakes into the microwave and reaching into a cupboard for a clean glass. Logan likewise resumes his reading as if nothing had happened; Roman is the only one who settles down, picking up his conversation at a more acceptable volume.

As the pancakes are heating up he opens another cupboard door and frowns.

"Have any of you seen the honey?"

"Mhm?" Roman glances over as he chews around another mouthful of toast with too much jam on it. "Oh, it's over there."

Patton turns to the area he'd vaguely gestured to and spots the bee shaped bottle peeking out from behind a very familiar jar of jelly, both items that have long become staples in the kitchen due to Logan's surprising demands. The cap of the jar is undone, and as he swiftly puts it back on his dad reflexes kick in before he can think better of it.

"Who left the jar open?"

The microwave decides to beep at the same moment that Roman abruptly freezes, sticky fingers in his mouth, and he immediately turns to his brother. Logan puts it together in a matter of nanoseconds and practically leaps out of his seat, book tumbling off his lap.

"Is that my Crofter's?!?"

Seeing that not even his acting skills can provide an escape, Roman spreads his arms in a shrug. "Uh, do you own the company?"

It's difficult to get Logan truly riled up, but Roman does have a habit of biting off more than he can chew. Literally this time.

"You know it's family owned—that's not the point, Roman, it's my food!!"

"Oh come on, you have like fifty jars, you can share."

"You didn't even ask me if I'm willing to share!!"

"I was hungry!!!"

"Dad!!!"

Patton manages to suppress a sigh, but only just. He shoves his glasses up and pinches the bridge of his nose for the briefest moments.

Honestly, he loves his children unconditionally, but sometimes, on occasion—and he would never in a million years ever admit this to anyone except maybe Virgil—sometimes he loves them a lot more when they're in separate rooms.

On separate floors.

With their doors closed.

***

My Ao3 profile.

[gallifreyanlibertea]

Freshmen

a/n: http://gallifreyanlibertea.tumblr.com/post/166081033138/a-challenge

“I don’t know why I had a crush on you, freshman year.”

And Arthur glanced up to meet the momentary gaze of a pair of upside-down eyes. It took him a bit of stretching, a bit of tiptoeing to get his head far enough above the kitchen counter to glare at Alfred as Alfred maneuvered his way back upright on the couch, from a position Arthur had told him would drive him dizzy with all the blood rushing to his head. Those blue eyes were trained on his phone.

Alfred then looked back up, brow cocked at Arthur’s position hunched over the kitchen sink. “Or why I’m dating you now either, you freak.”

“Mock my Netipot one more time, I dare you.” Arthur huffed, and it was ridiculous really, the things Alfred would find weird. Arthur’s argument would, in turn, be to ask Alfred if he liked his kisses salty with the remnants of Arthur’s running nose, and Alfred would gag.

Much like he was doing right then. “How the fuck is shoving a pot up your nose your first sickness-priority?”

Arthur ignored him.

Alfred grinned, “I don’t know if you have a right to be uppity after what I just found, anyway.”

And it could have been some of Arthur’s old writing, which frankly, would have been a big enough blow to Arthur’s ego- or it could have been a backread of the texts he’d sent his friend Francis that night, which sported a saccharine-sweet block of text in which Arthur, in his sleepless hours, had droned on about how cute Alfred had looked asleep next to him.

Well, either of those had to have been better than the image Alfred had skipped into the kitchen to shove into Arthur’s face. An Instagram post dated back at least three years, of Arthur dabbing on the corner of where the McDonald’s drive-through ended, hair slightly-gelled, not a single ounce of shame hanging off his jacket-clad shoulders, with its collar all turned up.

“There he is.” Alfred had said with a snort, and Arthur frowned. “There’s that Arthur I fell in love with.”

Arthur supposed it was way back then, the year he’d discovered he was painfully homosexual- The year he’d discovered wanting desperately to be in the same P.E. class as Alfred wasn’t exactly just to have another class with a pal.

Er, well, the photo perhaps dated a few months before that discovery.

“If you look close enough, you can see the denial,” Alfred said with a snicker, as if reading Arthur’s mind.

Arthur put away his pot, rinsing his face. “And if you swipe left or right, I’m sure you’ll find pictures of yourself that ring true for the same thing.”

Alfred pouted, but nevertheless swiped, prodding at Arthur’s shoulder with a sudden hoot, “Babe, look!”

So Arthur was correct.

Before him was a picture of the Alfred that Arthur had fallen in love with. A mere child with a lanky build, flexing arms that at that time, he’d probably thought were the beefiest they were going to get.

Arthur stifled a laugh, “Oh yeah, I fell for a real man.”

Alfred led them back to the couch and Arthur curled into his side, pressing his wet face onto Alfred’s shirt to dry.

It was calming, really. Arthur liked to think of it as a flash to what could easily be the future- staying over at Alfred’s house while both their parents had gone away for a weekend of paired-couples-pampering… it was what it would be like for the two of them to live together, to reminisce about the past as they were doing right then, Arthur’s hand in Alfred’s, with Alfred’s lips placing lingering, innocent kisses on the knuckles.

“Ol’ noodle-arms here skipped P.E. every other day,” Alfred said with a self-deprecating shake of his head and Arthur perked up with a memory that had come hurtling back to him, a grin playing on his lips.

“You’d stay up so late trying to cook up fake-vomit so your parents would keep you at home, remember?”

“With a single piece of corn added for authenticity, how could I forget?”

Arthur pulled away to snatch the phone into his own hands, scrolling through the out-dated feed as Alfred gazed over his shoulder.

“Oh god, Alfred, my skin.”

Freshman year was a vibrant time for the two of them, that was a given. Alfred snickered.

“Remember your skin-care phase?”

Alfred had been a great friend to have put up with Arthur then. A great friend to put up with all the weekends spent traveling high and low in search of an organic aloe vera leaf to soothe his red, blemished skin. A great friend to console Arthur when he- every single time- managed to cut his finger on the single, rather blunt, cactus spike.

A great friend.

“How did we become friends?”

Alfred paused, brows furrowed in thought, “Well… you were the hotshot from England, why wouldn’t I have wanted a piece of that?”

“Because I was strange,” Arthur said with a laugh.

It was true to Alfred as well, it seemed, because Alfred sat upright with a start, eyes wide with the beginning of a joke.

“The capybara!”

Arthur blinked, “What capybara?”

“We-” A chuckle, "Don’t you remember the-?” a pause as those lips spread in a grin, “The day there was a vote for which animal would be our school mascot, and you wanted so badly for it to be a capybara.”

Good God.

Arthur could vaguely remember it now. He remembered having the entire class turn to look at him like he was some sort of zoo animal, he remembered parting his lips for the explanation his teacher had asked of him on his insistence that they submit the capybara as a mascot option. 

“The name means ‘master of the grasses’ and I thought it fitting, since we live in a prairie region… and it’s lifestyle is amphibious, which accurately portrays both our school’s popular football and swim team.”

And Alfred, who had been sitting behind him, had turned to say to his friend, rather loudly, “Is there no easier way to just say ‘I'm a furry’?”

Arthur had been livid. He’d turned around so fast he was dizzy, “I retained my information from doing a project on the Capybara back in England. I doubt you’d be able to recall anything educational, much less what you had for dinner last night.”

It was, as the other thirteen-year-olds called it, a sick burn.

“Well, what of it?” Arthur said now, and Alfred turned to him with a sunny smile.

“It was the day I realized you were enough of a freak to be my friend.”

A pause. A smile in response, spreading on Arthur’s lips. They turned back down towards the phone screen to swipe onto a whole new level of Freshman year.

The homecoming dance.

It was a picture of the two standing as far apart as they could in the frame, because they were just two bros at a school dance, two bros just chumming out, nothing else.

“Oh! Arthur, it- It was at those… the stuff in front of the school. Know those bush-walls?”

“Hedges, love.”

“Yeah, the hedges.” Alfred grinned, throwing an arm around Arthur’s shoulders, a warm squeeze. “I asked you to homecoming there, remember? As you got off your bus?”

“With enough ‘man’s and ‘bro’s sprinkled in to assure me you weren’t being gay.” Arthur mused.

“You still thought it was pretty gay, ‘cause you were-” Alfred pointed at the gap in the photo, “You were that far apart from me the whole night.”

A warm flush to Arthur’s cheeks. He let the phone turn off, turning to Alfred with raised brows, “At least, I wasn’t that far apart when you asked me again the next year.”

The poster had said ‘Hoco? (Full Homo)’, and the man holding the poster had been an Alfred- slightly more built than he had been last year, due to his sudden obsession with working out over the summer- sweating tubs and buckets at the thought of losing his best friend.

The Alfred after Arthur had said yes was one with a significantly brighter smile on his features, pulling Arthur into a hug with a force that crushed the poster between their chests.

“Ah, Sophomore-year homecoming.” Alfred mused, kicking back with a dreamy smile. “It was great! The only downside being that I forgot the law was a thing.”

It hadn’t been the first time, for Arthur, seeing Alfred get drunk at an afterparty, but it had definitely been the first time being the boyfriend responsible for hauling Alfred out and sobering him up.

“Thanks to your alcohol breath, we couldn’t properly consummate our first date with a kiss,” Arthur said with a half-hearted huff.

“We definitely could have.” Alfred corrected, “You just didn’t want to.”

“I don’t think you realize just what I mean when I say alcohol breath.”

A pause. A chorus of two soft chuckles, two soft sighs, and Alfred turned to look at Arthur like he was a limited-edition item on some fast food menu, eyes sparkling with adoration.

It was something Arthur would never get tired of.

And when Alfred leaned in to kiss him, Arthur scrambled out of his grasp, “I’m sick, you idiot.”

“I don’t care.” And Alfred kissed him anyway. It was unlike their first kiss- a scrambled press of a pair of lips against another behind a tree in the school courtyard, teeth clashing, noses bumping.

Alfred’s hands cupping Arthur’s face were the same, however, as the ones that fumbled with their video game console as Alfred had struggled to gain an advantage against Arthur in whatever warfare game Arthur had pretended to like as a Freshman.

The smile on Alfred’s lips after coming up for air was the same smile he had tossed Arthur after taking that infernal picture in the corner of where the McDonald’s drive-through ended. And Arthur buried his face in Alfred’s slightly-damp shirt, letting those arms pull him into an embrace not quite as tight as the post-homecoming proposal one had been.

Needless to say, it had been a long while since they were Freshmen. It had been a long while since they’d been so small, since Alfred had been nothing but a child. 

Although, it definitely didn’t feel that way the next week as Arthur held a whining, complaining, sick Alfred in his arms. “Just use the damn Netipot already, love, I swear it helps-”

[vsplusonline]

Reset to sleep: bedtime rituals for the lockdown and after

New Post has been published on https://apzweb.com/reset-to-sleep-bedtime-rituals-for-the-lockdown-and-after/

Reset to sleep: bedtime rituals for the lockdown and after

I write this piece as India completes one week of complete lockdown. As misery sweeps humankind, nature is using this time to heal. In just a week or so, Delhi shows a clear blue sky on the weather app, perhaps for the first time in years. The virus is a reminder that the earth doesn’t belong to us alone. But solitude brings into focus the gaping holes in our lives that we would usually fill with distractions. So, as the country shuts down for another couple of weeks, we have no choice but to look within.

For me self-care means not just masks and candles, but healing at a deeper level. Practically speaking, since focus and concentration have been sacrificed at the altar of social media, perhaps these would be a good place to begin. One ancient practice, called trataka, takes a couple of minutes, but works tremendously to sharpen the mind. You can practise it at dawn or dusk, though dawn may be ambitious after a midnight date with Netflix.

Setting your focus with trataka

Assuming you practise this in the evening, shut down all artificial lights in the room. Face your back towards any natural source of light and place a lit diya or candle about an arm’s length away, at eye level. Keep your gaze still and soft, keep looking at the flame till eyes water, close them for two seconds, open again. Do this for a couple of minutes everyday. When I practise trataka just before meditation, I find that my focus is sharper and my mind doesn’t wander. Over time, it enhances focus and reduces insomnia.

For most of us, anxiety begins in the evening. Last week, I wrote about pranayama, which is most suited for the morning. Today, I will talk about techniques to relax in the evening. I cannot promise that anxiety, depression or insomnia will be eliminated with these methods. However, these tools are more relaxing than chain-swiping stories on Instagram.

Tire yourself out

If you want to use all these as a complete ritual, do so right after your evening walk or a quick pace around the balcony. Practise trataka first, followed by brahmari, either sitting straight or lying down in bed. A 2016 study by the Sri Ramachandra Institute in Chennai found that brahmari, or the buzzing bee breath, improves resting cardiovascular parameters more than breath control. Close your ears with your forefingers and shut your eyes. Then, breathe in and exhale making a soft, humming sound with your mouth closed. The idea is to relax your brain with the vibrations of the sound. Do as many rounds as you feel comfortable.

You can also practise breath-work with extended exhalation, which relaxes the vagus nerve, thereby relieving anxiety. So if you’re inhaling with four counts, exhale with six to eight counts of breath. Make the breath so deep that it reaches and expands the belly. Remember, air has no calories. One visualisation technique I like to practice, especially when I feel a lot of negativity, is imagining my breath as a giant fishnet (vegans can think of an apple basket). As you breathe, imagine this fishnet sweeping up any negative blocks and throwing them out with your exhale. This breathing sequence can also be practised in bed, before you sleep.

Wind down before bedtime

Yoga nidra is another beautiful technique for the evening. If you’re too wired to practice anything yourself, then this guided mediation could help you sleep. There are many videos on YouTube, iTunes and Spotify. Find one with a duration that suits you and a voice that doesn’t grate your nerves. Before you begin, you will be asked to repeat a sankalpa or positive affirmation thrice, with full belief. One of my favourites is, “Every day, in every way, I get better and better.”

Someone mentioned to me that they cannot sleep till 3 am, because they’re not tired enough. In uncertain times like these, you can bring stability to your life with routine. If there was a particular time when you were in transit, use that part of the day to exercise — be it mopping the floor or climbing up and down the stairs. Lightly exercise in the evening again where you’re supposed to be in transit. Get into bed by 10 pm, read a book, follow a guided meditation, but for heaven’s sake keep your fingers off your phone.

Vasudha Rai was beauty director, Harper’s Bazaar, Cosmopolitan and Women’s Health. She blogs at vbeauty.co. She is also a certified yoga teacher and has been teaching at The Yoga Studio in Delhi. Join her @thehinduweekend today (April 4) at 9 pm for a guided session on white light meditation and yoga nidra.

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