#Best pain bAlm to get relief from headache

[brawnherbal]

Achoo Ayurvedic pain balm

Ayurvedic pain balm: Your solution to pain relief.

Brawn Herbal introduces Achoo pain relief balm plus, which cures joint, muscle, and body aches. It is also used for migraine and cervical pain. Its herbal ingredients, such as menthol crystal, eucalyptus oil, wintergreen oil, etc make it more effective.

Why should you use pain relief balm? 

Reasons to use pain balm: 

Headache: Eucalyptus oil and wintergreen oil are the main ingredients for severe headaches and migraines. 

Body pain: Ayurvedic pain balm lowers inflammation and provides heat to the body, which will help you get relief from muscle and body pain. 

Backache: Ayurvedic pain balm also cures backache by reducing inflammation, improving blood circulation, and providing soothing relief. 

Quick Relief: It rapidly gets absorbed into your skin and provides instant relief for any kind of headache and body pain. 

What is the best pain balm? 

You will find many pain relief balms in the market and we surely don’t know what is added to those balms. But when we talk about Ayurvedic pain balm plus you will find many herbs in that and those herbs are beneficial for headaches, body aches, migraine, joint pain, and muscle pain. 

[potsmart]

The Skinny on Cannabis Oil: Effects and Benefits

Cannabis oil is a form of extract produced from the Cannabis plant. It’s typically made by extracting the plant’s resins and essential oils using a solvent like alcohol or carbon dioxide. This can be done with either dried or fresh cannabis leaves and buds. The resulting oil is then strained through an additional solvent-free process to ensure purity.

Cannabis oil can be consumed as a tincture or used in cooking. Preclinical evidence shows that cannabis oil has many potential health benefits, including treating autism and providing pain relief. It also has potent anti-inflammatory properties and may ease anxiety and help with sleep issues.

State medical marijuana laws typically allow patients to buy and use cannabis oil. However, patients should always check with a healthcare professional before using any form of cannabis to treat health issues.

In this article, we’ll answer the question: what are the benefits of cannabis oil? We’ll also discuss where to find it and the possible health benefits of cannabis oil and where to find the best cannabis oil in Canada.

What Is Cannabis Oil?

Marijuana oil is a concentrated product obtained from the Cannabis sativa plant. It contains high levels of THC, which is the primary psychoactive component in cannabis. Cannabis oil is made through a process called solvent extraction, where cannabinoids and terpenes are extracted from the plant matter. The resulting oil is then strained and refined to remove any residual solvents. The final product contains high levels of THC and other cannabinoids, as well as terpenes such as limonene, pinene and caryophyllene.

THC oils are a potent form of cannabis concentrates. They contain high levels of THC and low levels of CBD, or no CBD at all. These oils are typically used for recreational purposes, providing a strong psychoactive effect when consumed. THC oils can also be used medicinally, but they’re commonly prescribed in small doses to treat specific health conditions.

It’s important to note that cannabis oil differs from Cannabidiol CBD oil, which contains no THC. Cannabidiol CBD won’t get you high like THC oil, but it can still positively affect your health—especially when taken as an edible product instead of smoked or vaporized.

How Do You Use Cannabis Oil?

The most common way to consume cannabis oil is by taking it orally with a dropper under the tongue. This allows the active compounds in the oil to be absorbed into your bloodstream quickly.

When applied topically, cannabis oil is used as a balm or lotion. This allows it to penetrate deep into the skin and deliver the health benefits of the cannabis plant directly to problem areas —such as sore muscles or aching joints.

Some people choose to smoke or vaporize cannabis oil. This is done by using a vape pen or a dabbing rig. The oil is placed on a piece of metal and heated up with a lighter until it turns into vapour. This method of taking cannabis oil isn’t recommended for first-time users because it can take some practice to get right.

We should mention that when using medical cannabis oil for conditions such as post-traumatic stress disorder, inflammatory and neuropathic pain, multiple sclerosis or muscle spasticity, it’s best to start with small doses and increase them slowly over time as your body adjusts. This is especially important if you use a high-THC product, as it can cause anxiety and paranoia at higher doses.

Benefits…

A lot of lab-tested benefits have been observed when using cannabis oil.

Some of the health benefits of cannabis oil include: 

Cannabis Oil For Chronic Pain

Cannabis oil has been found to help relieve chronic pain. This is one of the most common uses for cannabis oil. It’s said to be an effective remedy for various types of pain, including neuropathic pain, muscle spasms, joint pain, migraines and other types of headaches. It’s thought that this is due to the compounds in cannabis called cannabinoids, which have an analgesic effect on the body. People who have chronic conditions that cause pain often use cannabis oil as an alternative treatment option.

Improved mood and mental health

Cannabis oil has also improved mood, reduced post-traumatic stress disorder, and reduced anxiety. This is partly because it has a relaxing effect on the mind and body. It can also help people with depression or bipolar disorder feel less depressed and anxious. It’s thought that cannabis interacts with the endocannabinoid system through receptors in the brain called cannabinoid receptors, which play a role in regulating mood.

Better brain function and memory

Cannabis oil can help improve memory, concentration and attention span. It may also reduce the risk of developing Alzheimer’s disease or other forms of dementia.

It’s not yet clear how this works, but it’s thought that the compounds in cannabis interact with receptors in the brain called CB1 receptors, which play an essential role in regulating memory, learning and movement.

Improved digestion and appetite control

Cannabis oil may also help improve digestion, which can help with body weight loss and prevent conditions such as irritable bowel syndrome (IBS). It’s also been shown to increase appetite, which could be helpful for those who have trouble eating enough due to illness or other factors.

Cancer-fighting properties

Studies suggest that cannabis oil is a potential anticancer drug. It is used in cancer treatment to ease cancer pain associated with chemotherapy and radiation.

In some studies, the active chemicals in cannabis have been shown to slow the growth of cancer cells. They may also help prevent cancer from spreading. For example, a study found that combining THC, CBD, and other cannabinoids effectively kills cancer cells without affecting healthy cells. Another study found that combining cannabis oil with radiation therapy helped kill glioma brain tumours.

Effects…

Despite the potential uses of medical cannabis oil, it’s important to note that there could be some serious adverse effects. Also, the effects of medical cannabis oil on the body can vary from person to person, so it’s essential to be aware of any changes in mood or behaviour that might indicate an adverse reaction.

Common adverse effects to expect include:

Dizziness

Nausea

Headaches

Dry mouth

Red eyes

In conclusion…

Cannabis oil is a natural remedy for many conditions. For example, Healthline media websites claim that cannabis oil can be used for high blood pressure, cancer treatment, chronic pain, anxiety disorders, Lennox Gastaut Syndrome, tuberous sclerosis complex, and more.

However, despite the potential benefits of cannabis oil and its increasing popularity among patients, further research is needed to ascertain the full impact of this treatment option and whether it can be used in place of other medications.

Where to Buy THC Oil and CBD Oils…

THC and Cannabidiol extracts sold online are often mixed with carrier oil such as coconut oil or hemp seed oil. These oils are typically sold in bottles containing a couple of hundred millilitres of liquid, which can last for weeks or even months, depending on the frequency of use. THC oil is usually sold in smaller bottles that contain anywhere from 5 to 15 millilitres (mL).

Buy cannabis oil online at here. In addition, Potsmart can direct you to a wide variety of cannabis oils and weed edibles available, including CBD oil, THC oil, shatter and more. Browse our selection and buy weed online in Canada today!

By Rico Suave, for Potsmart

[mywoozifeels]

Learn What CBD Balm 2000mg Can Do for You?

CBD balm is a topical product made from a combination of CBD (cannabidiol) oil and waxes, oils, and other ingredients. This balm is specifically formulated to create a barrier between your skin and the environment, so it can help protect, soothe, and moisturize your skin. CBD balm specifically designed to contain a high concentration of CBD such as 2000mg can bring you many health benefits such as relieving inflammation, reducing chronic pain and helping with skin conditions. It penetrates deeply to the dermal cells and encourages healing of dry, damaged skin. It can be used to treat a variety of symptoms and can be an effective alternative to prescription medications. CBD balm is also fast-acting and provides almost instant relief. The effects of this balm are said to be long-lasting, so it is considered an excellent choice for anyone looking for relief from chronic ailments. In addition, its fragrance-free properties make it suitable for people with allergies and sensitive skin. With so many potential benefits, it is no wonder that so many people are turning to this natural and effective product.

Understanding the Basics of CBD Balm 2000mg

CBD balm 2000mg also known as cannabidiol is a naturally-occurring compound found in the cannabis plant. As a product, it is a topical formulation, which can be applied directly to the skin. It has recently gained a lot of attention for its potential therapeutic benefits and is widely available in various concentrations and forms. CBD oil is also readily available but is not as popular due to its higher concentration of active compounds. CBD balm 2000mg is manufactured from cannabidiol that is extracted from hemp, which is a variety of cannabis. Although it has a similar chemical structure to marijuana, it does not contain the psychoactive properties that marijuana does. It is a legal, non-intoxicating herb with wide therapeutic potential such as calming inflammatory processes, reducing chronic pain, and easing anxiety, depression, and insomnia.

Exploring the Benefits of CBD Balm 2000mg

CBD balm 2000mg may offer a range of therapeutic benefits. It is thought to soothe skin, manage inflammation, balance hormones, ease pain and inflammation, and provide antioxidant support. Additionally, CBD balm 2000mg may assist with mental health issues such as anxiety and depression, and may help to reduce stress and promote restful sleep. It may also help to reduce nausea, improve appetite, and help to regulate metabolism. CBD balm 2000mg is non-intoxicating and does not produce a high, meaning it can be used safely by people of all ages.

Examining Potential Side Effects of CBD Balm 2000mg

CBD balm 2000mg is generally well tolerated and does not produce significant side effects. It is important to note, however, that some people may experience mild side effects such as dry mouth, headaches, fatigue, and changes in appetite, as well as alter concentration and reaction time. Additionally, people undergoing cancer treatment or those taking medications should consult a doctor before using CBD balm 2000mg.

Choosing the Right CBD Balm 2000mg for You

There are a variety of CBD balm 2000mg products available in a range of different concentrations. When choosing a CBD balm 2000mg product, it is essential to choose a product of known origin from a reputable manufacturer who has provided clear information about the contents and manufacture of their products. It is also important to ensure that the product is free from contaminants, pesticides, and other chemicals.

Supportive Practices for Maximum Results

It is important to practice supportive practices for optimum benefit and safety when using CBD balm 2000mg. It is recommended to use it in moderation, as overuse may lead to unwanted side effects. Additionally, it is best to apply the balm to clean skin and dilute the oil if needed. The best way to get the most out of CBD balm 2000mg is to use it consistently, as the results are cumulative. Additionally, it may also help to use the balm in conjunction with other healthy practices such as eating a balanced diet, exercising regularly, and managing stress.

Tips and Strategies to Improve Your CBD Balm 2000mg Benefits

The best way to maximize the potential benefits of CBD balm 2000mg is to use it as part of an overall health and wellness routine. This may include eating a healthy diet, exercising regularly, and managing stress. Additionally, it is important to use the balm consistently and apply it directly to the affected area, as opposed to taking it orally. For best results, it is best to use an oil-based balm and to dilute the oil if needed.

CBD Balm 2000mg Usage Guidelines and Considerations

When using CBD balm 2000mg, it is important to follow safety instructions for optimum results and safety. It is important to select a reputable product that is free from contaminants, and it is important to use the balm in moderation. If consuming the balm orally, it is important to dilute the oil, and it is also important to apply the balm to clean skin. Additionally, it is recommended to consult a doctor before using the balm if you are pregnant or have a serious medical condition.

Conclusion

CBD Balm 2000mg may provide many great benefits to its users. It can help reduce inflammation, pain, anxiety, and improve skin health. It can help reduce the effects of aging and improve overall well-being. While more research is needed to further understand the long-term effects of CBD Balm 2000mg, it is safe and effective for those looking to incorporate a natural supplement into their daily routine.

[ajitp123]

zandu roll on,remedies for headache,gout pain relief ,best balm for headache,

Zandu Roll On is a versatile balm that provides relief from headache, gout pain, and other types of discomfort. This easy-to-use roll-on formula provides fast-acting relief, making it the perfect remedy for those who need to get on with their day without being slowed down by pain. Whether you're looking for relief from a headache or gout pain, Zandu Roll On is the best balm to choose for fast and effective relief. zandu also sell ZANDU ORTHO VEDIC OIL,ZANDU BALM, Zandu Ultra Power Balm https://zandupainrelief.com/product/zandu-roll-on/

[achoo-products]

Best Pain Balm for Headache

Get Rid off Headache & Bodyache with ACH...OO Pain Balm

Get relief from Body aches and headache can stuck your everyday activities, get an herbal solution with the power of seven natural ingredients which helps to get instant relief from headache and body aches. Give gentle care of Achoo pain balm to easy your daily routine. A quality product of Brawn Cosmetics and Herbals with natural menthol.

Available at Amazon. Shop Now.

For More Details visit: http://www.brawnlabs.com/herbal-products/achooproducts/achoo-pain-balm

Available at Amazon: https://www.amazon.in/ACHOO-PAIN-BALM-10ML/dp/B07SSZNMT1

Other Achoo Products: http://www.brawnlabs.com/herbal-products/achooproducts

ACH...OO 2 in 1

ACH...OO Rub

ACH...OO Pain Balm

ACH...OO Pain Balm Plus

#ACHOO #AchooPainBalm #InstantRelief #Headache #Bodyache #MuclePain #BrawncosmeticsAndHerbals #NaturakMenthol #SevenNaturalActives #AvailableAtAmazon #ShopNow #BestPainBalm #bestPainBalmInIndia #BestPainBalmAtAmazon #HerbalBalmForHeadache #HerbalSolution

[blue-eyed-cutiepatootie]

The Best Goddamn Soup

Destiel ficlet

wc 1200, established relationship, sick fic, Cas takes care of Dean

also on AO3

Dean wakes in a coughing fit.

He pushes himself up, his head pounding, and fumbles around for the water bottle he now keeps by his bed every night. He brings the straw to his lips and cool water soothes his burning throat. He coughs again and continues drinking.

Suddenly the lamp clicks on and a soft glow fills the room. Even that small amount of light makes Dean groan. He’s still catching his breath as Cas rubs his back.

“Dean? What’s wrong?” Cas rumbles, his voice thick with sleep.

Covering his eyes, Dean turns to his husband. “I’m dying. Can you turn the light off?”

Even with his eyes covered, Dean can hear the eyeroll and the light clicks off.

 The bed dips as Cas gets up. The door creaks open. The hall light turns on. Cas returns and walks over to Dean’s side of the bed. A warm hand covers his forehead, and he groans again.

“Ow! Fuck, Cas that hurts!”

“Dean. All I did was touch your forehead.”

Suddenly the pressure moves to his nose and he can’t breathe.

“My head feels like its going to explode. I need a tissue.”

Cas hands him the tissue box and he tries to blow his nose five times before anything actually moves. The pressure lessens slightly.

“Dean, tell me what’s wrong.” Thank God for Cas’ low voice because anything higher would break his eardrums.

“I think I have a sinus infection.” He usually gets one once or twice a year. Fuck allergies.

“What do you need?”

“There should be decongestant in the medicine cabinet. I’ll need one of those. And can you run the water in the bathroom sink so it gets hot? I usually put a hot washcloth on my face to help with the pain.” Dean doubles over in another coughing fit and Cas hands him his water bottle.

“Anything else?”

“Maybe something warm to drink?”

“Of course, Dean.”

Cas presses a kiss to the top of his head and disappears into their bathroom. He returns with the bottle of decongestant and puts one little pill in Dean’s hand. While Dean takes the pill, Cas starts wringing his hands.

“Should I call our doctor? Or do you need to go to urgent care?” He runs a hand through his already messy hair. “I can’t heal you if you’re dying, Dean.” His voice is getting higher and Dean cannot deal with that right now. He reaches out and catches Cas’ hand before it can run through his hair again.

“Babe, I’m sorry, I’m being dramatic. I’m not dying, my head is just killing me. I just need that washcloth and then quiet to rest in. Light and noise make the headache worse.”

Cas nods, a little frantic. “Ok. But if it gets worse, I’m taking you to urgent care. I’ll go make you tea.”

Before Dean can protest, he’s out the door. Dean shakes his head and slowly makes his way to the bathroom. The water is hot and he fishes a washcloth out of the closet. Once it is fully saturated he covers his face with it, doing his best to inhale the steam. Finally, sweet, sweet relief. He can feel the snot gradually melt. He quickly dries his face and blows his nose again. It feels like his brains are coming out of his nose. He repeats the magic trick until Cas appears in the doorway.

“Dean?”

“Yeah?” Somehow even with less snot in his nose his voice sounds worse. But his head feels less like its going to explode.

“I have your tea. Did the washcloth help?”

Dean dries his face again and takes the tea. “Thanks, Cas.” He inhales the steam and takes a sip. The hot, honeyed liquid is an instant balm on his sore throat. Cas still looks like he’s a second away from calling an ambulance. Dean reaches out and pulls him in so he can kiss his cheek.

“Cas I’m gonna be fine, nothing to worry about. You know me, just being a drama queen.” Cas frowns at the self-deprecating comment. “I’m just gonna finish this tea and go back to sleep for a bit, ok?”

Cas follows him back to the bed. Dean waves him off as he gets settled back under the covers, stealing Cas’ pillow to help prop up his head. Cas worriedly watches him finish the tea, taking it from him when the mug is empty. Dean groans softly and leans his head back, rubbing his temples.

Cas gently smooths his hair back. “There’s a thermos with more tea on the bedside and I refilled your water bottle.” Dean cracks an eye open and gives Cas a smile. “Get some sleep and call me if you feel worse, ok?”

Dean nods and drifts into a fitful sleep.

After what feels like minutes but is really two hours Dean is ripped from a dream about Dr. Sexy. Daylight is streaming through their thin curtains. Why had they decided not to get the blackout curtains? Oh, right the whole point of moving out of the bunker was to enjoy the sun. A decision Dean currently severely regrets.

Dean blows his nose for the umpteenth time and catches a whiff of… is that basil? Squinting, he slowly makes his way downstairs. The sight that greets him when he reaches the kitchen causes him to question whether or not he’s still sleeping.

Cas is standing at the stove stirring something in a soup pot.

“Are you making soup?” says the frog that is currently residing in Dean’s throat.

Cas whirls around, “Oh, you’re up!” He smiles that gummy smile that light’s up Dean’s life and places the lid back on the pot. “How are you feeling.”

“Less like my head is going to explode. Are you making soup?” Dean has taught Cas how to cook a few things, but this is the first time Cas is cooking all on his own.

“I thought, since you’re sick, that it would be nice.”

Dean immediately bursts into tears.

Cas looks horrified, frozen by the stove.

“Um, Dean?”

Now he really can’t breathe. Tears stream down his face and he gasps for breath. Suddenly Cas is in his space holding a tissue over his nose like he’s fucking two, telling Dean to blow. He’s whispering in his ear, something sweet probably but all Dean can think is he’s making soup?

Finally, when he can sort of breathe again, he gasps out, “You’re making me soup?”

Cas’ mouth opens and closes like a fish. “Yes,” he says slowly. “You’re sick so I’m making you soup.”

“You looked up a recipe and you’re making me soup?”

Cas has a death grip on Dean’s shoulders. “Dean you’re scaring me. Yes, I’m making you soup.”

Dean starts to cry again, “No one has ever made me soup before. Not since-“

Understanding dawns on Cas’ face. He pulls Dean into a hug. Dean is a mess, he’s leaking everywhere- tears from his eyes and snot from his nose. “Cas, your shirt-“

“Dean, my shirt doesn’t matter. Are you ready for some soup?” Dean nods against his shoulder. He cleans up his face while Cas dishes out two bowls of chicken and rice soup.

Sitting in his cozy kitchen that he shares with the love of his life, it’s the best goddamn soup he’s ever had.

[softyoongiionly]

chapstick

based on the time Jungkook said he needed someone to scold him so he’d remember to put lip balm on.

Or 

Jungkook’s had a really long day and the only that can make it better, is seeing you. 

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Word Count: 5.8k

Genre: fluff, smut, established relationship, jungkook has a man bun idk what else I could possibly want

Warnings: language, explicit smut (18+ only plz), oral (male receiving)

A/N: Hello yes, I am mess. I wrote this in like four hours and it’s unedited but wow wow wow wow I am GOING THROUGH it for Jungkook. Anywayz, I love u. here u go

Jungkook is in a bad mood today.

He’s been awake since 6am, he hasn’t eaten since mid-morning and, he’s been practicing for over 12 hours.

Worst of all, everyone else seems to be in a good mood.  

It’s not that he hates when his hyung's are happy, it’s just that when you’re in a bad mood-  sometimes the shriek of someone’s laughter can feel intrusive.  

“Alright!” Hoseok’s voice hits the practice mirrors and with Jungkook feeling oversensitive, he cringes at the sound of it, “Let’s go again from the top!”

Jungkook sighs through his nose, stretching his sore back for a moment before getting back into formation.

“Jungkook-ah! Push a little harder in the second half ok?!”  

Hoseok is in dance-mode and therefore he has no idea how loud he’s being.

Jungkook purses his lips and nods, taking a deep breath before shaking out his hands.

“Yah! Jungkook?” Hoseok calls, facing the mirror, his eyes searching for Jungkook at the back of the practice room.

“Yeh.” He grunts, barely looking up from the floor.

“Did you hear me?”

He nods, his hands fumbling around in the pockets of his sweatpants, “Push harder in the second half...”

The rest of the boys seem unphased by his uninterested demeanor. They are no stranger to exhaustion.  

“Alright- let’s go.”

For what feels like the 100th time today, Jungkook moves through the routine as if it were second nature. The movements feel robotic and the muscles in his arms are beginning to turn to Jell-O. The strands of his hair are covered with sweat and, he’s thankful for his newly procured undercut for lessening the amount of heat he’d normally feel after working out this long.  

He feels gross though.  

Normally, he enjoys working this hard but today he isn’t feeling it. In fact, the strain between his brows is getting a little painful as he really tries his best not to frown.

The new choreography is intense and as much he likes the challenge- after the 100th time of running through it, he’s starting to get frustrated.

Panting through his nose, he holds his position at the end of the routine before Hoseok finally calls it.

“Yahhhh! That was a lot better huh? You guys did good.” He praises, clapping his hands, “Now go get some water and then we’ll run it again...”

Jungkook sighs hopelessly, letting his head fall back on his shoulders. He cringes at the feeling of sweat collecting on his skin, wanting nothing more than to make it back home to his shower.

Amongst other things...

Grabbing a bottle of water off of the table, Jungkook has to work very hard not to crush the bottle in his hands as he eagerly gulps down what he can. He finishes the bottle in record time and as he reaches for a second one, he pulls his phone out of his pocket to check it.  

Tweety: hiii I hope you’re having a good day! Do you want to takeout tonight? I got caught up at the school and, I didn’t pull anything out.

Jungkook feels his tight chest loosen up a bit as he sees your text come through.

You made a comment one day that he ‘gives off bugs bunny vibes’ and he responded by comparing you to Tweety bird.  

Needless to say, the nicknames are dumb but you guys think they’re cute.  

Bugs: takeout sounds good. I’ll be there late tonight though :/ I hope you had a good day too. Miss u.

Jungkook has just enough time to respond to you before he is wincing at the sound of Hoseok corralling everyone back to the practice floor.

Again, again, again, again, and again...

He’s so tired by the end of the circuit that he’s starting to feel throbbing in his temples. Headaches are a common side effect of over-exertion and just as he is getting ready to beg to go home, they are calling it.

“Ok ok- good job! You’ve worked hard everyone. Let’s rest for a day and then resume on Sunday.”

Jungkook feels his entire body deflate with relief at the last words parading out of Hoseok’s mouth.  

His day is finally over.

He reminds himself to never wear new boots to rehearsal again because he can’t feel the tips of his toes and his fairly certain there are blisters on the of his ankles.  

“Are you riding with me?” Jimin asks him on the way out of the practice room, his voice decorated with exhaustion.

Jungkook doesn’t fully pay attention to his question, his eyes already trained on his phone.

“No, I’m getting my own car.”

Jimin looks confused for a moment before a small smirk comes over his face.

“Are going to see her?”

Jungkook doesn’t respond quick enough, his mouth parted slightly as he types out his message to you.

“Aren’t you worried what people are going to think? You’re over there a lot...”

Jimin isn’t being judgmental with his questioning and Jungkook knows this. He can hear the genuine concern in his voice and understands that his hyung is merely looking out for him.

“I don’t really care what people think anymore.” He answers honestly, ensuring that he keeps his tone as polite as possible.  

Jungkook’s had to worry about the opinions of others since he was 15. As grateful as he is for his career, he is growing tired of being unable to make his own decisions. His gaze hones in on the tattoos covering his fingers and forearms and remembers a time not too long ago where he was required to hide them. Putting a band aids on his own self-expression didn’t feel good and he sort of promised himself that he wouldn’t allow the expectations of others to stop him from doing what he wanted.  

Or seeing who he wanted...

“You’re getting bolder with age.” Jimin notes, somewhat proudly as his eyes flicker over to him, “You really like her, don’t you?”

Tweety: miss u toooooo. I ordered ramen

Bugs: I just got out. I should be there in 20 minutes. I’m so hungry

Jungkook feels his cheeks heat up at Jimin’s question and rather than answer him, he just kind of shrugs, his mouth turned up in a small smirk.  

“Yah, don’t hold out on me-”Jimin bumps his shoulder, tilting his head in an attempt to get him to look his way, “We’ve known each other for how long?”

Jungkook slips his phone back into his pocket and adjusts his bag on his shoulder.

“I think the answer is obvious hyung.”

Jimin rolls his eyes playfully, “If it’s so obvious then why don’t you just say it.”

The two of them lean against the wall of the lobby, waiting on a notification from their drivers that they are outside.

Jungkook bites his lip, in an attempt to reign in the grin that threatens his face.

“I like her.”

Laughter trickles out of Jimin’s lips as he bumps his shoulder, “Why are you shy all of the sudden? Is there something else I don’t know?”

Yes.

There was something else Jimin didn’t know.  

Jungkook hasn’t told a single soul since it happened.  

He’s so incredibly private and after meeting you, he only has more of an urge to keep things to himself.  

“There’s nothing.” Jungkook mutters, his eyes eagerly looking checking his phone for the driver notification.

“You’re lying to me.” Jimin calls him out, “What is it?”

Jungkook shakes his head, tucking a bit of hair behind his ear. He licks over his lips and immediately regrets the fact that he forgot his Chapstick.

How’s he supposed to kiss you, if his lips are chapped?

“Jungkook-ah, tell me-” Jimin whines, tugging on his sleeve.

He merely snickers finally and shrugs him off, shaking his head, “There’s nothing to tell. Why do you think I’m hiding something from you?”

“Because I’ve known you for almost ten years and I-” Jimin begins before a knowing smirk comes over his face, “Wait- you’ve slept with her haven’t you?”

Jungkook’s eyes widen a bit, taken aback by his bold statement, “Someone’s going to hear you, why are you asking questions like this?”

His hyung giggles, deeply satisfied with his discovery, “You have, haven't you?”

Jungkook feels the threat of a smile come over his face again, “Why do you want to know? It doesn’t matter.”

“It matters-” He shoots him a pointed look, “Because we’re best friends? And I want to know. When did it happen?”

Jungkook is feeling a little bit bolder, unable to help the pride he feels that he was finally able to experience an intimate relationship, “Which time?”

Jimin’s eyes widen before he slaps Jungkook on the arm, “Which time??? You’ve done it more than once?”

“Shhh-” Jungkook whisper yells, his brow furrowing, “We’ve been seeing eachother for 6 months. Why do you look so surprised?”

Jimin chuckles this time, glancing behind him, “I just- I don’t know...it was your first time, wasn’t it? I just thought you’d make a bigger deal of it.”

He shrugs again, a smirk still lingering, “It was a big deal- to us. I thought you guys would just figure it out eventually.”

Ever the nosy one, Jimin slinks a little closer to him, a bit of mischief in his eyes, “It’s fun huh?”

Jungkook just rolls his eyes, brushing him off playfully, “I thought I was supposed to be the youngest.”

Jimin ignores his comment and just looks at him expectantly.

Giving up on holding out, Jungkook finally gives him what he wants and replies.

“It was fun.”

Jimin offers his signature bit of laughter again but before he’s able to interrogate him any further, Jungkook finally gets the notification that his driver is here.

“I’ll see you Sunday, hyung.” Jungkook gives him a short wave before adjusting his bag on his shoulder.

Jimin smirks and flutters his fingers in his direction, “Have fun.”

Jungkook just shakes his head, groaning to himself as he finally leaves the building.

Slumping into his seat, he shuts his eyes for a moment and tries his best not to fall asleep. Thankfully, his desire to eat his weight in ramen paired with his desire to see you keeps him from passing out.  

You and Jungkook have been together for a while now and although the initial nerves surrounding seeing him have lessened slightly, you still want to look good for him. Thankfully for you, when it comes to impressing your boyfriend- less is more.  

Slowly but surely, he has revealed his preferences to you but they have slipped out casually. He doesn’t ever want you to feel like you have to look a certain way for him.  

But you do know he likes black.

And you do know he likes when you wear oversized pieces.

The harsh bit of winter also makes dressing in gigantic hoodies and thick socks a lot easier anyhow.  

So you opt for something along the lines of cute but comfy and tend to your hair the easiest way you know how.  

Jungkook also loves it when you don’t wear any makeup. But he’s never told you directly, you’ve just figured out based on the way he gets all starry eyed every time you wash your face at night.  

The ramen is all set up in the living room and you’ve got one of the Christmas movies the two of you started the other day, ready to play.  

By the time you hear a knock at your door, everything is ready for a cozy Friday night with your boyfriend.

Upon opening your door, you are met with the sight of Jungkook- sweaty, soft and slightly sleepy standing there in all of his glory. He’s dressed in grey sweats and a big white t-shirt, his hair tied up messily atop his head. Along with the smell of sweat, you can faintly make out the remnants of his cologne and it stirs something deep inside of you.  

Jungkook’s eyes scan over you briefly, offering a small smile as he leans in to peck your cheek, “Hiiii...”

He sings the greeting, patting your hips as he quickly steps into your apartment.  

“Hello,” You sing back, giggling a bit, “Did you guys just now finish up practicing? Didn’t you start at like 7?”

Jungkook winces as he begins slipping off his big clunky boots, leaning back against your front door, “Yeah. I really thought they were trying to kill me- I did the new dance so many times, I lost count.”

Pouting your lips, you take his bag off his shoulder and hang it up on your coat rack.  

“I’m so sorry.” You murmur, shaking your head, “Did they give you tomorrow off at least?”

At this, Jungkook grins, nodding as he does, “Yeah, I was going to ask you what you were doing tomorrow cause I thought maybe you’d want to hang out. Our night was supposed to start a lot earlier...”

He looks regretful and even slightly annoyed.

He’s been having this issue a lot lately where his prior obligations and engagements seem to mean nothing to his directors, which never used to be a big deal but, now that he has you in his life- he never wants to let you down.

“I’m free all day-” You reply happily, before narrowing your eyes at him, “I have one condition though-”

Jungkook looks intrigued, cocking his head as he steps forward, “What’s your condition?”

“I need one of these...” Pointing to your lips, you pucker them and make grabby hands at your boyfriend.

He laughs softly, shaking his head as he closes the space between you, “I just got here and you’re already using kisses as collateral now huh?” His voice gets a little lower and before you can reply, his gently places his lips on yours, sighing out through his nose as his flutter shut.

Once he starts kissing you, you aren’t really able to think of a coherent response. Leaning into him, you hum lightly in your throat, tucking your lips between his.  

However, when you attempt to slide your hand up the exposed skin of his arm, he winces and pulls away.

Groaning, you can’t help but giggle, “I know- I know... ‘babe, I’m too sweaty. Let me just shower really quick and then I’ll promise, I'll kiss you so much better’...”

At your attempt to imitate his voice, Jungkook starts laughing- cute nose scrunched up with delight.

He kisses his teeth, “You know me too well. I’ll be right back.”

Jungkook leans in again and kisses you on the cheek before disappearing into your bathroom moments later

After his showering, he comes out in a baggy t-shirt and some sweats, his hair freshly blow dried and piled up on his head in a messy bun.  

He scarfs down his dinner in record time before the two of you settle back against the couch.  

You can feel him looking at you as you giggle at the TV but he doesn’t let his eyes linger very long. He just kind of stares for a moment before simply tightening his grip around your shoulders. He feels so warm beside you that you seriously wonder how long you’ll be able to stay awake with him being the human equivalent of a weighted blanket.  

When your laughter erupts again, Jungkook leans in to pop a kiss on your check, which broadens your smile that much more. It’s only for a moment before he turns back to the TV, seemingly satisfied with his actions. However, you decide to return the favor and smoosh your lips against his face, eliciting a snicker from his throat.  

You snuggle into him more, grabbing his arm that’s resting on the couch beside you and wrapping it around so that his hand is resting your lap. Leaning your head against his chest, you slowly began tracing over the markings on his skin lightly brushing your nails against each unique line. Jungkook’s eyes are trained on the TV and despite his blank expression, you can see the goosebumps forming on his skin.  

Regardless, you just keep going, allowing your fingertips to trace over the letters adorning his hand. Using your nails, you trace between each of his fingers, before interlocking them your own. Once you’re holding hands, Jungkook squeezes slightly, brushing his thumb along your skin which then prompts you to finally to turn to the side and look at him.  

He grins softly, still not glancing your way but choosing to offer a playful comment instead, “You’re not watching the movie...”

You laugh softly, reaching out with your free hand and tilting his face towards you.

“We’ve watched this movie four times-” You retort, “Besides I’m pretty sure I remember you promising me that you’d kiss me properly once you were out of the shower.”

Jungkook’s grin broadens, his doe-eyes alight with defiance, “I’m pretty sure you promised yourself that for me- I don’t remember agreeing to it.”

You scoff in mock offense, “Damn ok. So it’s like that huh? I buy you ramen and yet this is how I’m treated. I’m calling the UN...”

Jungkook laughs a little harder now, the sound a little sharp but intensely endearing, “It’s that serious for you?”

Pouting, you nod, “It is that serious.” You’re about to say something else before you brush your thumb over his lips and notice the dryness there, “Did you remember to bring your chapstick today?”

He immediately sucks his lips between his teeth and given that his ability to speak is no compromsied he simply nods, his eyes wide with false innocence.

“Mhmmm.” He lies

“No you didn’t!” You exclaim, laughing a bit as you press your thumb against the thin line of his mouth, “Babe, it’s so cold outside- your lips are going to start cracking.”

Unfurling his lips, he lets his head fall back on his shoulders, “I know, I know-” He whines playfully before his head snaps back up to yours, the same glint remaining in his gaze, “You have some right?”

You roll your eyes, “You know that I do.”

He snickers, quickly leaning in to kiss your cheek, “Can I have some then?”

Playfully shoving him off, you rise from the couch and shake your head, “I’m giving you one to keep in your rehearsal bag,” You shuffle over to your bathroom, “You better use it!”

He laughs as he hears your demand echo down the hallway before calling back, “Hurry jagi! They are so dry- I can feel them! They are so close to cracking!”

Seconds later, your hurling one of your many lip balms into his lap which he catches just before it hits him.

“Put it on...” You demand pointedly and he shakes his head.

“I don’t think I can-” He sighs dramatically, holding the lip balm out to you, “You have to do it- all of the moisture in my body is slowly fading away...my lips are trying to suck it all up.”

Giggling, you cross your arms, shaking your head, “That makes absolutely no sense.”

“Y/N! Please!” Jungkook chokes out, “Before I waste away...the winter-” His eyes bug out of his head, as his hand clutches his chest, “the winter jagi- it's going to dry me out completely.”

Finally snapping, you grab the Chapstick out of his hands before asserting yourself into his lap. He laughs, resting his head against the couch cushions whilst his hands sneakily find their way to your hips.

“You’re so annoying...” You grumble, still giggling yourself as he puckers his lips dramatically.

“I’m only following your recommendations.” He insists, making kissy noises at you, “Balm me up baby.”

Uncapping the chapstick, you press your chest against his before starting to drag it over his lips. As you get to work on helping him, his mischievous gaze slowly softens until he’s looking up at you with stars in his eyes. Carefully, you make sure every inch of his mouth is covered with balm, paying special attention to the corners and his lower lip. As you finish up, you put the cap back on set on the couch cushion.

He rubs his lips together, humming in satisfaction.

You smirk, “Better?”

Jungkook nods his Adams’ apple bobbing in his throat as he feels you shift on his hips.  

“Make sure.” He murmurs, puckering his lips, his eyes starting to swim with arousal.

You lean in, unable to refuse him before capturing his mouth in a kiss. Rotating your head, you slowly deepen the connection between your lips, drawing a sigh from the boy beneath you. You can feel his thumbs rub ever so gently against the back of your hips as he leans fully back so that your chest is resting on his.

He nudges your nose, allowing his tongue to brush against the bottom of your top lip, requesting entrance into your mouth. You accept him, licking along his tongue, a shiver running up your spine as he sucks slightly on the top of you.  

Jungkook really is a filthy kisser but you’d never guess by just looking at him.  

He’s quite sure his face is growing numb, his only focus on the way you’re making him feel and a somewhat annoying pain on the back of his head. His ponytail is digging against the wall, causing unnecessary discomfort to wash over him. Still kissing you, he reaches behind his head to pull the hair tie out, allowing his hair to fall freely around his face. You take the opportunity to slide your fingers between the strands, scratching gently at his scalp and causing a slightly shaky breath to leave his lips.  

He loves when you play with his hair.  

You use both hands now to tuck it behind his ear before using them to slide down the length of his arms. Finding his hands on your hips, you lace your fingers with his and bring them back up so they are pinned against either side of his head.  

The making out didn’t get him fully hard but as soon as he feels his hands pinned against the head of the couch, he feels his dick twitch almost painfully in his sweatpants.  

Smirking into his mouth, you delight in the sudden halt to his breathing. Subtly, he pushes his hips up a bit when you start kissing your way down his chin and throat. Jungkook summons all the resolve he has and goes perfectly still when you start placing soft kisses along the expanse of his throat. You feel the ache between your legs worsen when you feel his fingers tightening against yours. Jungkook is a very sensitive person, both emotionally and physically. Over the time you’ve become intimate, you’ve slowly uncovered all the little spots that drive him crazy.  

And you’re determined to kiss every single one.  

“You had a hard day huh?” You murmur sweetly, kissing up the right side of his neck.

All he does is nod, his eyes falling shut as he feels your lips getting closer to his earlobe.  

Placing another kiss at his hairline, you slowly kiss along the bottom half of his ear before capturing it between your teeth.

His breath immediately leaves his lips in a shaky mess, his eyes squeezing together as the grip on your hands tightens.

“I think I should help you relax after you’ve worked so hard don’t you?”

He has no idea what you plan to do to him but, he honestly couldn’t give a fuck.  

He’s too hard, too wound up and too into to you to ask any meaningful questions.  

Jungkook merely nods, not trusting his vocal abilities at the moment as he waits for your next move.  

A smirk comes across your face as you suckle lightly on his earlobe, knowing how much he likes it before using your lips to descend back down his neck.  

You lean away from him to get a closer look at his expression. Smoothed out in pure pleasure but also tightening slightly at the discomfort brought on by his throbbing dick.  

His eyes are still closed as you release your grip on his hands and he keeps them that way even as you move to grip the hem of his t-shirt.  

“Are you falling asleep on me?” You tease and he merely grins, shaking his head.

“Then why are your eyes closed?”

He doesn’t open them and instead allows a breathless bit of laughter to leave his lips, sound almost exasperated.

“I feel dizzy.”

His simple responses elicits another desire within you that intensifies your goal to make him feel good.  

“In a good way?” You check, playfully pinching his stomach as you slowly pull up his t-shirt.

He goes back to nodding, his hands coming down to assist you with your task. His hair flops haphazardly as the material of his shirt messes with it. You take a moment to admire how incredibly beautiful he is when he settles back against the couch, your mouth going dry at the sight of him. Flushed face, pouted lips, defined muscles and hardened nipples lay before you, and you are a little unsure of where to put your lips first.

Although it doesn’t really matter, your destination is the same regardless.  

Deciding on another spot that drives him crazy, you allow your fingers to brush along his ribs before leaning in to kiss over his defined chest. Jungkook’s hands are laying limp against the couch but when he feels your lips nearing his nipple, he turns them so they are able to grip the edge of the couch. Sucking his nipple into your mouth, you let you tongue rub against the peak of it. Jungkook sighs loudly from above you and you can’t help but smirk as he still doesn’t allow himself to moan.  

It’s a quirk you’ve noticed and you feel like it’s likely left over from the long-discarded idea that Jungkook has regarding his masculinity. No matter how often you tell him that making noise is perfectly ok (and really hot) he still waits till he can’t help himself.  

And to be honest, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy pushing him towards that point.  

After you finish kissing his chest, you begin trailing your wet lips down the middle of torso, taking a moment to suck over the soft skin of his not so softly defined stomach.

“All those hours in the gym are really paying off-” You mumble against his skin, brushing your fingers over his abs, “You look so strong...”

At your compliment, his lips part, one side of his mouth turning up in a slight smile.

“I wanna look good for you.”

It’s quite a ridiculous statement really.  

Jungkook would look good no matter how many visible abs he had but you know he likes the praise none the less.  

So you shower him with it.

“You always look good for me.” You assure him, kissing along the band of his sweatpants now, “I’m proud of you for working so hard.”

He grins a little more, leaving his eyes mostly close but allowing them to peak open a bit to watch you sink to your knees.  

“Thank you.”

He swallows back the threat of hyperventilation as he feels you spread his legs, his eyes closing completely once again.  

If you weren’t able to make out the sound of his breath picking up, the movement of us chest certainly would have given it away, his pecks heaving a bit as he tries to relax.  

But as you begin gently massaging up his legs, Jungkook realizes relaxing might not be possible.  

At least not at the moment...

He’s stained the seam of his sweatpants with precum which would upset him if it were any other substance but with his dick being so hard, he really can’t find himself to care about anything else.

Tucking your fingers beneath his sweatpants, you begin tugging them off of his hips, relieved that he isn’t wearing any underwear.

Jungkook takes another deep and shaky breath through his nose, tilting his head back again as he tries to center his thinking.

But you’re kind of driving him insane.  

Starting at his knee, you kiss all the way up his inner thigh, taking in the scent of his body- indescribable and mouthwatering, just like him. You stop just before his dick before repeating your actions along the other leg.  

Jungkook’s stomach is caving in at the teasing but he does absolutely nothing to urge you further.  

He likes the torture.  

“Is there anything you want me to do while I'm down here?”  

Jungkook bites his bottom lip at your question, knowing that you’re going to make him ask for it but feeling shy regardless.

“Yes.” He breathes  

You brush your fingertips over his balls, his hips only slightly twitching at the sensation.

He’s trying to stay calm, not wanting to get so ahead of himself he blows his load before you’ve even started.  

“What is it that you want me to do?” You murmur, leaning in to breathe against his length.

You’re expecting him to stall and use every other word to ask for what he wants but instead, he surprises you.

“Suck on it...” He whispers, taking a deep breath before exhaling on the word, “...please.”

Smirking to yourself, you wrap a hand around him- feeling him throb within your grip before kitten licking over the tip of him. After ridding his dick of all the precum, you decide to end his descent into madness and suck him into your mouth.  

You start slow, licking up and down the length of him, your core aching at the taste. Jungkook’s nails are digging into the couch cushions as he feels your movements, his teeth starting to chew on the inside of his bottom lip.

Bringing your hand into the mix, you guide a flexible grip up and down up, using your lips to suck on the tip of him, your tongue tracing the curves of his frenulum.  

Jungkook’s lips part in awe as he feels the combination of moves on his dick, his toes curling against the shag carpet. He knows that his vision will be swimming but he wants to watch you so badly, he decides to finally open his eyes.  

As he predicted, his vision is spotty and the dizziness he felt earlier is nothing compared to the way he feels now.  

It all becomes irrelevant though when he locks eyes with you. Your boyfriends normally innocent gaze is completely glossed over with lust, his mouth hanging open as he stares down at you, the same smirk slowly returning to his lips.  

Sucking off of him, you use your hand to jerk him off as you address him, “Does it feel good?”

He bites his lip, his face and chest decorated with the flush of arousal as he nods.

“Why are you so quiet then?”  

For whatever reason, your question tickles him and drunken giggle bubbles up past his lips,

“’ss too good.” He explains, shaking his head at you, “I don’t know how to say anything...”

Logically, he understands that you aren’t talking about him necessarily saying anything but more so referring to the lack of noise he’s making. However, he knows very well that he’s going to be moaning for you soon, especially when your mouth returns to his dick a second time.  

When he feels you palm his balls, his eyes fall shut again, his hips twitching all over the place when you resume both sucking and jerking him off.  

Jungkook knows he’s biting his lip really hard when he starts to taste a bit of blood but he doesn’t care, the pleasure he’s experiencing overpowering any semblance of pain.  

“Y/N” He whispers, “I’m getting really close.”

His warning makes you swoon because he sounds so desperate and yet he’s being considerate, not wanting to intrude your mouth with the taste of him.  

Despite the fact that, that’s all you want.  

You merely moan against his length, signaling for him to let go whenever he wants, your speed increasing all the while.  

“Fuck...” He whispers again but the word sounds like it got caught in his throat, “Fuck...fuck...fuck.”

Hearing him swear makes the wet disaster in your shorts much worse but you wanna make him cum so badly, you ignore it completely. The sound of him nearing the edge is enough to take him all the way in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you suck him harder.

Finally, he breaks- a whimpering skipping past his lips, one of his hands coming up to cover his mouth. As much as you want him to moan for you, you don’t want to stop your motions long enough to tell him.  

He throws his head back against the headrest, his eyes opening wide as he stares up at the ceiling in amazement. His body jerks as the first wave of his release hits your tongue and rope after rope, you swallow everything he gives you, sucking him through his orgasm and until the sensitivity becomes too much and he starts squirming beneath you.  

You suck off of him, allowing his softening length to rest against his lower stomach, which is now trembling with his heavy breath.

Jungkook pants, still staring him at the ceiling and while he’s coming down, you kiss along his hips, letting him take his time. Whilst you’re kissing up his happy trail, one of his hands reaches out to brush over your face. Its then you notice that it’s clammy and a bit shaky so, you take a moment to press a kiss over his knuckles, trying to encourage him to look at you.

“You’re shaking.” You whisper and before you know it, you can hear that same drunken giggle coming from his lips again.

Your boyfriend looks down at you, a deep sense of amazement in his eyes as he laughs still, a bit delirious.

“Yeah well-” He shakes his head, still trying to get his wits about him, “You should have a talk with your mouth about that...”

You giggle now, resting your chin on your hand as you admire how fucked-out he looks. His hair is a mess and he is covered in a light layer of sweat and if you’re being honest, you really want to jump his bones all over again. But you know he needs a minute.

“I just wanted to help you relax.” You claim innocently to which he just shakes his head, gesturing for you to get on the couch.

“Come here.”

You scramble up towards him, sitting beside his exhausted body and before you know it, he’s pulling in for a kiss, his smile creeping back when he feels your lips.

“You’re amazing.”

He sounds silly but sincere all at once, kissing softly at your lips before nudging your nose.

You smile back into the kiss, mumbling something of the same nature to him.  

The two of you kiss one another for a moment until Jungkook is pulling back, allowing his dark gaze to scan over your face, eyes suddenly full of determination.

“I think it’s time you relax too now, don’t you think?”

[imalreadyhighlol]

🌿💨 ~SMOKABLE HERBS~ 🌿💨

•Chamomile- When infused as a tea, the gold liquid relieves anxiety and is sedative. By smoking chamomile, you will earn the same benefits as of drinking chamomile tea.

By smoking chamomile you inhale the molecules it contains and in that way you consume the healthy properties of the herb. (Same as happens with cannabis)

•Lavender- When smoking lavender, you'll receive a relaxing feeling that can also be described as euphoric. However, you will never feel high when smoking lavender.which is why most mix it with cannabis .

•Mugwart- Many ancient cultures smoked mugwort to promote vivid dreams. It also produces a very mild psychotropic effect while you’re awake.

Smoking Qualities: This herb is a light smoke with a pleasant, slightly sweet flavor.

💥💥 note that mugwart can cause issues with pregnancy💥💥

•Blue lotus- The dried flowers of the Blue Lotus plant are smoked or steeped in a tea in order to give the user a sense of peaceful relaxation. Blue Lotus is noted for its calming euphoria, aphrodisiac qualities, and sedation.

•Mullein- Mullein has a long history of use as a lung tonic. It can actually help you stop coughing when you're sick. Smoking Qualities: The smoke is extremely light and mild, almost like smoking air, and virtually flavorless.

•Blue skullcap- Skullcap has a mild calming effect when smoked.

Smoking Qualities: This herb is a medium smoke, with a fairly neutral flavor.

•Red raspberry- Raspberry leaf contains a lot of medicinal compounds such as tannins,flavonoids, ellagic acid,vitamin A, C, potassium, calcium and phosphorus. Raspberry leaf is also useful to overcome various diseases such as diabetes, menstrual disorders, fertility disorders, diarrhea and others. Raspberry is often used as a herbal tea ingredients.

Benefits and effects

* An alternative for those who want to stop smoking

* Neutralize poison that had been caused by the nicotine content in tobacco

* Lowers blood sugar levels

* Reduce pain in childbirth

* Increases the fertility for men and women

* Tighten the skin

* Sedative and muscle relaxant

•Lions ear- The dried foliage of Leonotis - both Wild Dagga and Klip Dagga - can be used as a legal substitute for marijuana (ganja, cannabis, hemp).

* Smoking this dried herb gives an euphoric-like effect and exuberance.

* The flowers are the most potent part and can be smoked or used as a calming tea.

•Mint- Mints are used primarily to impart flavor to smoking blends. There are many varieties worth experimenting with, including spearmint, peppermint, chocolate mint, Close relatives of mint, including lemon balm (lemony flavor) and yerba buena (sweet menthol flavor), are often incorporated in smoking blends, as well.

•Spearmint- Smoking mint leaves improve blood circulation and relax nerves.

•White horehound- Women use white horehound for painful menstrual periods. unique herb native to the Mediterranean, white horehound is a very potent anti-inflammatory, specifically regarding respiratory inflammation.

•Peppermint- Peppermint leaves clears the lungs and respiratory passages and can make breathing easier.

•Angelica- Smoking the leaves of the Angelica plant is said to increase clairvoyance and visions.

•Coltsfoot- Coltsfoot is an expectorant, helping to free phlegm from the lungs.

Smoking Qualities: This herb is a light smoke with a neutral flavor, but can cause harsh coughing if used in a high concentration in smoking blends.

•Bear berry-The smoking blend known as Kinnikinnick is said to increase gifts of vision and prophecy, purify ritual space, and carry prayers to the heavens. Combine equal parts Bearberry and Tobacco leaf. Smoke in a pipe, or burn as incense prior to magickal work.

•St. John’s wart- One of the most common medicinal herbs in the world, St John's Wort is best known as an all-around “feel good” plant. It's a mood stabilizer and enhancer that has been used for centuries to alleviate depression and melancholy. St John's Wort can also reduce symptoms of anxiety and obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD). When smoked, St John's Wort acts as a mood-elevating sedative, erasing signs of tension throughout the body.

•Wormwood- contrary to popular belief, you won't bear witness to any dancing green goblins after ingesting this unique herb. It's a light anesthetic, providing relief to pain and muscle/menstrual cramps. Smoking wormwood releases mild effects that help reduce pain, headaches, and even rheumatism.

How to Make Your Own Herbal Smoking Blend

* Smoking mixtures are largely a matter of personal tastes and preferences – experiment with different herb combinations to see what suits you best – but here are the basics to get you started.

1. Harvest fresh, young leaves, ideally in the morning after the dew has evaporated.

2. Dry the leaves slowly indoors – try hanging them in bundles from the ceiling or spreading them out on a window screen(Don’t dry them fast in an oven, as you want the leaves to retain a bit of moisture for a smoother smoke.)

3. Once dry, crush the leaves by hand into an even consistency.

4. Combine according to the guidelines below:

~General Guidelines~

* Marijuana is the ideal “base” for smoking blends in my humble opinion. It should form about 50 percent of the mixture.

* Then add several other herbs for the “body” of the blend. Mugwort and skullcap create a headier smoke, while uva-ursi gives it more of a tobacco-like quality. Add a bit of coltsfoot if you’re lungs are irritated from frequent tobacco use. Combined, these herbs should constitute about 40 percent of the blend.

* Use flavoring herbs, like mints and sages, for the final 10 percent of the blend.

* If the blend is too harsh when you smoke it, trying spritzing the dried herbs with a spray bottle to reintroduce moisture.

* Store smoking blends in glass jars or resealable plastic pouches.

✨Please research each herb before you smoke it, because there are side effects to each of them especially if you're on other medications.✨

[brawnherbal]

Achoo pain relief balm plus

Achoo pain relief balm plus: Your solution to pain relief.

Brawn Herbal introduces Achoo pain relief balm plus, which cures joint, muscle, and body aches. It is also used for migraine and cervical pain. Its herbal ingredients, such as menthol crystal, eucalyptus oil, wintergreen oil, etc make it more effective.

Why should you use pain balm? 

Reasons to use pain balm: 

Headache: Eucalyptus oil and wintergreen oil are the main ingredients for severe headaches and migraines. 

Body pain: This pain relief balm lowers inflammation and provides heat to the body, which will help you get relief from muscle and body pain. 

Backache: Pain balm also cures backache by reducing inflammation, improving blood circulation, and providing soothing relief. 

Quick Relief: It rapidly gets absorbed into your skin and provides instant relief for any kind of headache and body pain. 

What is the best pain balm? 

You will find many pain relief balms in the market and we surely don’t know what is added to those balms. But when we talk about Achoo pain balm plus you will find many herbs in that and those herbs are beneficial for headaches, body aches, migraine, joint pain, and muscle pain. 

[melodious-madrigals]

the last shred of truth (in the lost myth of true love)

Pairing: wondertrev Rating: T Word Count: 4277 Tags: amnesia!fic, hurt/comfort, happy ending, steve and diana being soft for each other Summary: When Diana wakes up alone in a hospital room with no memory of who she is or how she got there, she panics. But even though she doesn't remember anyone, there's someone who seems fundamentally familiar... AKA: the "i may have amnesia but i trust you implicitly" trope, wondertrev edition

Read it below the cut or on [AO3].

***

Notes: @svgurl410 this fic is Your Fault™ (affectionate) because you posted a thing about the amnesia trope and WHOOPS my hand slipped, so, uh, due to the stars aligning for some very convenient timing, HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!

***

She wakes up in a too-sterile room, white and soundproofed and empty, but for her and her bed and a battery of too-sterile machines, all hooked up to her.

The first thing she takes in is that everything hurts. Ache blooms down her body and her head feels like it’s about to split open.

She tries to lift a hand to knead away the pain, and that’s how she discovers thing number two: she is restrained here, in this strange place, by herself. Strapped to the bed with no recollection of where she is or how she got here.

Or, for that matter, her own name.

Normal hospitals don’t look like this, she thinks. Not that she can remember ever being in one, but she’s got the vague impression that there are usually windows, or people, or doors that look like they don’t require a top-secret clearance to exit through.

She’s in trouble, then; maybe the people tying her down are the reason for her faulty memory. (Retrograde amnesia, supplies a tiny voice in her brain that she doesn’t have time to examine.)

All she knows is that she needs to figure out how to get out. If she can’t remember anything, then she can’t rely on there being anyone who would help her out, which means she needs to rely on herself and only herself.

She struggles against the bindings—they’re tight, well-constructed, but she thinks she feels some give. With a little extra effort, she pulls, and low and behold, yanks the straps straight out of their holdings.

So she’s strong, then. Good to know.

She detaches her legs next, and is partway through unhooking herself from the plethora of machines when two doctors—scientists?—beep themselves into the room.

“Code yellow, she’s awake,” says one of them into a radio.

“Miss, you need to lay back down,” says the other.

“Where am I? What’s going on?”

“You’ve been gravely injured. You need to stay calm.”

The first one is still talking into the radio. “—and the patient is agitated. We need to put her on another macro dose of the sedative,” he adds to his colleague.

“No!” She wants to know what’s going on, not be drugged back into oblivion.

A frenzied swipe of her arm sends the man flying into the padded wall with a crunch that she’d feel bad about if there wasn’t panic rising in her throat.

Three more personnel, all bigger than she is, which is saying something, rush into the room and she leans back into a defensive stance until—

“Wait!” says a new male voice, and a tall, well-dressed man with the remnants of a cut over his eyebrow steps into the room. The orderlies stop their forward motion, but they don’t leave, and she’s scanning them for signs of weakness before she’s even aware she’s doing it.

“Diana, you need to calm down.”

Her attention snaps to the new man, and she eyes him warily. “Who are you? How do you know me? Where am I?”

“You don’t remember me?” He seems hurt when she shakes her head. “You’re at a hospital facility. You took a bad blow to the head, and now you’re in recovery.”

That would make sense, except, wait— “A head wound requires being tied down?”

“It was for your safety and theirs.”

“It seems more the thing you would do to a prisoner.”

“You’re safe here.” The man catches her hand as she tries to sidestep away from his advance. “Diana, you can trust me.”

There’s half a beat as she considers, where he makes eye contact, looks at her imploringly—

—but nothing good ever comes of people telling you to trust them, of this she’s sure, and when his grip tightens almost imperceptibly as he shifts, at the same time that one of the orderlies off to the side flinches forward, she throws him off, breaking his grasp and sending him flying into the hospital bed and related machinery.

The orderlies advance, but she’s properly panicked, now, desperate to get out of here, find something—anything—familiar, and it’s muscle memory that takes over, dodging around them and hurling them to the ground, blows strong enough to make sure they don’t get back up without hurting them too badly.

She’s out in the corridor when an alarm starts blaring, sending loud noises and flashing lights through the hallway that make her already-splitting headache throb as more people rush at her. Most seem to be technicians of some sort, but two are security guards carrying guns.

She doesn’t know how she knows how to fight—can’t even confirm with herself that her name is Diana—but she knows being here is not the answer and sets to work, lashing out at each successive wave of people.

As she’s dispatching with the last of this group, she hears a new set of voices and almost starts to cry—will these people stop at nothing to keep her locked up?

“—has gone crazy!”

“What the hell did you do to her?” At the sound of this newest shouting voice, another man’s, she counterintuitively feels her muscles involuntarily relax a little.

She turns around, dropping the last of her would-be attackers just as the man to whom the voice belongs skids around the corner and comes to a stop in front of her.

He is beautiful: dirty blonde hair and an angular jaw and striking blue eyes that have fixed themselves on her. There is fear in them, and anger, but it is not the same fear or anger of the scientists holding her in this place. She has the sudden, inexplicable thought that it might be for her rather than of her. Indeed, the second their eyes meet, she notices him deflate, relief evident in the lines of his body.

She sees him, and she feels—calm. He is familiar, somehow, even if her mind can’t pull him up.

“Diana,” he says, and the shape of her name in his mouth is a balm, like honey drizzled in tea or a whiff of lavender on the breeze under a hot summer sun.

Time dilates a little, as she drinks in the sight of him, whispers flitting in the corners of her brain that she can’t quite catch.

She takes half a step forward and sees the owner of the first angry voice fling an arm out in front of the man in warning.

“Stay back, Agent Trevor. She’s disoriented and extremely dangerous.”

“You’ve done more than enough already, and I’d thank you to stay out of it.” The man pushes the arm away and steps towards her, slowly, telegraphing the move before it happens. “I’m sorry it took me so long to get here, Angel.”

Like the chiming of midday bells, a dozen discordant memories of him saying Angel like that flicker through her brain before fading back into foggy nothing. She’s moved instinctually, before her brain has time to approve the motion, and then she’s in his arms, holding tight.

Home, her brain supplies, and she feels her cheeks getting damp from silent tears that she does her best to blink away.

“Hey, I’m here,” the man says, pulling back just enough to swipe the moisture away. “I know you must be scared right now, but you’re going to be okay.”

“I don’t know why I’m here or what’s happening,” she admits, whispering into his ear. “I just want to get out of here.”

Before he can reply, another wave of security floods the hallway, and the man reacts accordingly, twisting out of her arms and nudging her behind him.

“Everybody, stand down,” he commands.

The alarm stops, but the personnel don’t move and there are several holding what look like big-game tranquilizer guns.

“They’re technically friendlies,” he says over his shoulder to her, “even though they’re doing a shit job of it right now. Everyone, back off.”

Finally, the woman he appeared with nods, and with a wave of her hand, people start to retreat back down the corridor.

“You could convince her to stay, Agent Trevor,” the woman says, somewhere between imploring and accusatory.  

“Maybe,” the man agrees. “But I won’t.”

“Think of her treatment. Be reasonable—”

“I am.” His voice brooks no refusal, and she’s strangely relieved. “After the way you’ve bungled this, she isn’t going to be comfortable here and I’m not making her stay. She wants to leave, so we’re leaving.”

“Her memory—” The woman’s face is pinched, like she’s swallowed half a lemon.

“Will not be improved by you poking at her. Diana?” He turns to her, offering her his hand, and she slips her own into it without question, letting his guide her down the hallway.

“Oh,” he says, over his shoulder, “and tell Bruce to expect my call.”

The parking lot outside is just asphalt and concrete, but it’s a relief to be out of the building and in the sun.

“I’m taking you to one of our houses,” the man says. “You’ve been there before, and you liked it.”

“Anything’s better than that lab.”

Something in his jaw ticks, and he nods before sliding into the driver’s seat.

“Thank you, Agent Trevor,” says Diana, once they’re speeding away from that awful facility. The way he flinches tells her it’s a mistake, somehow.

Her brow furrows. “Is that not your name? I thought I heard them call you that, but I don’t know your name. I feel like I must know you, but I can’t remember. I’m sorry.”

The man next to her takes a deep breath. “You remember the important things,” he says reassuringly.

“I don’t see how that can possibly be true.” She can’t remember a single name or face, or any of the events that precipitated the memory loss.

He’s quiet for a moment, and then he reaches out and takes her hand, ever so gently, and slow enough that she could pull away. (She finds she doesn’t want to.)

“You remember how I make you feel, otherwise you wouldn’t have come with me,” he says finally. “The name stuff is a bit trivial compared to that.”

“Still,” she says, frustrated.

“Steve,” he relents. “My name is Steve Trevor.”

“Steve.” She turns the name over on her tongue and sees his mouth quirk out of the corner of her eye. Then he sighs.

“We’re about three hours away from the safe house. There’s plenty of time for a nap, and I’m sure you’re exhausted.”

“No, the copilot’s in charge of the music,” Diana says automatically, surprising herself. Beside her, Steve glances her way, a bemused look on his face. In her seat, Diana just sags. “I have no idea why I said that. I’m exhausted.”

“You said that because it’s our road trip rule,” Steve explains gently, “but I think today calls for an exception. Get some sleep.”

She nods and lets her eyes flutter shut. Her eyelids have been heavy since she woke up the first time, but it’s only now she feels comfortable doing something about it. She’s asleep before they hit the next mile-marker.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” she says, leaning in for a kiss that Steve is only too happy to provide.

“The hazards of loving someone who’s constantly saving the world,” Steve jokes.

“Alas, it was only a museum trade agreement this time.”

“As long as no artifacts were harmed in the process.”

“No, none at all,” Diana says, grinning. “What smells so delicious?”

“It’s—”

Her phone, on the Do Not Disturb setting that only Steve and the Justice League line can get through, pings angrily.

“Damn, I have to go.” She hands him her phone so he can read the sitrep from Alfred.

“I’d come with, but I have the meeting with Waller tomorrow.”

“I know,” says Diana ruefully. “It’s not worth an eight-hour flight for you. I should be home by tomorrow evening, anyways. It looks pretty standard.”

“Be careful.”

“Aren’t I always?”

“You are absolutely not. That’s why I’m telling you now.”

She laughs and kisses him. “Don’t forget to buy new basil plants again on the way home from the market.”

He huffs good-naturedly and rolls his eyes. “Diana—”

“Diana.”

She jolts upright, still looking at Steve’s face, but in a different time and place. She tries to hold on to the memory, but it filters away like the tide receding on a beach, out of her grasp before she can catch onto its ephemeral quality. When she tries to chase it, pain stabs through her head.

“Diana, are you okay?”

“Fine,” she says, wincing.

He looks unconvinced but doesn’t press. “We’re here.”

It’s a little cottage in a secluded wooded area, and it feels welcoming even from the outside.

“Is this where I live?” she asks, trying to figure out if this is the type of place she would want to live, as he unlocks the door and ushers her in.

“No, you mostly use this house when you come to the US for long business trips,” Steve replies. “You live in Paris, most of the year.”

Her brain conjures up an image of the Eiffel Tower, but it doesn’t feel like hers, just something clinical that she knows about Paris. She finds she also knows French, though once again, she doesn’t remember learning.

“I figured we could stay here a few days to see if your memory comes back on its own. If not, maybe going home will help.” He pauses. “Is that okay with you?”

“It sounds reasonable. I don’t—I don’t really know how to make my memory come back, though.”

“I don’t think there’s an established protocol for that,” Steve says, cracking a smile. “Except to make yourself comfortable and try not to stress too much.”

They stand there, staring at each other for a moment, and she gets the intense, sudden urge to kiss him. To see if that would help, like some sort of fairy tale. She’s halfway towards working up the nerve to close the distance between them when Steve clears his throat.

“You should take the shower first,” he says. “I know you hate the smell of hospital.”

As soon as he says it, she knows it’s true.

“Will you answer my questions after?”

“As best I can, yeah.”

How long she stands under the pounding hot water, she’s not entirely sure, but it feels good. Her muscles relax, and she closes her eyes, letting the water stream over her body.

A phantom touch on her shoulder, gentle but blazing with heat, and eyes to match, and the sudden feel of cold tile against her back—

—her eyes fly open, and she gasps, scrabbling to chase the feeling, one she’s sure is a memory, but the harder she tries to catch it, the more painful the stabbing sensation in her head becomes, and she’s forced to give up, tired and frustrated.

When she finally emerges from the bathroom, hair still damp and curling, it’s to find Steve finishing a call. Even as he’s occupied on the phone, she sees him gravitate towards her and then consciously stop, hovering a few meters away.

“I have to go. We’ll talk later,” he says tersely, and hangs up. Then to her, “That was Bruce.”

He says it like the name should mean something to her, but it doesn’t, and she shrugs helplessly.

Steve sighs. “Someone you work with,” he explains. “You encountered him earlier. Sent him flying clean across the room.”

She feels a stab of guilt—she’d sent a number of people flying across the room in her desperation, and she hopes that if he’s her colleague, he’s okay and that she’ll be able to properly apologize. Until then, “The one in the pretentious suit?” she clarifies.

It startles a laugh out of Steve—fluttering white curtains and mischievous bright blue eyes and that laugh, warm and infectious, snatched away in a flicker of pain—who just says, “That’s the one.”

She nods once, and then looks around, unsure. “Can you tell me why I’m like this? What happened?”

“Let me put the kettle on,” says Steve. “It might take a while.”

He tells her about the extent of her abilities, surprising in the abstract, and yet not so much when she thinks about the thrum that ignited in her veins when she felt like people were closing in on her. He tells her about the mission she left for, last night, that was pressing but apparently standard enough in scope. He tells her that something went wrong, that something powerful and unidentified was used to deal her a blow to the head, that she was unconscious for eight hours, that he got there as fast as he could but not soon enough because transatlantic flights take time, even when you’re the pilot on a requisitioned jet. He tells her that the explanation that he was given was that she’d been convulsing in her sleep, and really had been restrained only to prevent injury to the attending doctors. He tells her that the doctors—who never really had a chance to examine her, but for a single CT scan while she was unconscious, and who have no precedent since her physiology is so different than any other being on Earth—aren’t sure whether her memories will return or not. (One of them said to give it a few days; the other wasn’t optimistic at all, based on the scans.)

Through it all, he barely references himself, but she can see the contours of him woven in: he has intimate knowledge of the things she can do, and the ways in which she uses them. He was with her when she was called away on the mission; indeed, he is clearly with her often. He speaks about her with delicate care and a small smile on his face, and she can’t help but think that given the chance, she would probably talk about him the same way.

“And you?” she prompts finally, when he’s done, when the tea has long since gone cold and dinner is prepped and in the oven.

“Me?” says Steve. “What about me?”

“You’re clearly important to me. I trust you, somehow. But you’ve said almost nothing about yourself, and I’m not quite sure how you fit in.”

“I guess it wasn’t relevant.”

It’s a bullshit answer, and they both know it.

“I love you.” It’s a question phrased as a statement, but Steve has the uncanny ability of hearing it just as she meant it.

“Yes.”

“And you love me.”

“Yes.”

It confirms everything she heard in the subtext of his words, his tone. They’re something, something powerful, and she’s gone and thrown a wrench in it by forgetting everything about him, about them. The absence plagues her, but she can barely imagine the weight he must feel at the loss of their history, of being the only one to carry it. For the first time, she really contemplates the implications of the gaping holes in her mind.

“What happens if I never get my memories back like the doctors said?”

Steve scuffs a hand over his face, the only overt sign so far that he’s feeling the stress of the situation.

“Well, I’ll go on loving you all the same, and you can decide whether you still love me.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

“You make it sound so simple.”

“Love isn’t simple, Diana, but loving you is the easiest thing in the world. I’ll love you no matter what happens, and no matter what you decide when it does.”

She regards him for a moment. Now that she’s looking, she thinks she can see lines of tension in his body. He’s good at covering it up, but there’s worry there. Then the understanding hits.

“You’d let me go.”

His eyes fall shut, and she thinks maybe it’s so she can’t try to read them. It doesn’t matter: she can already see that he’s pushing down his pain to put her first, a clear character sketch if she ever saw one.

“Yeah.”

That one word, it makes her heart break for him.

“If it’s all the same to you, I think I’d like to.” He looks up at her, confusion dotting his features. “Go on loving you, that is,” she clarifies, and is rewarded by an absolutely incandescent grin.

“Well, that’s neat.”

The sacredness of the moment is shattered by the insistent dinging of the oven timer, signaling that dinner is ready, and Steve ducks his head, breaking eye contact as he gets up to retrieve the food.

They’re not very talkative for the rest of the evening, but even though the mood is heavy, the silence is not uncomfortable. There is an unspoken agreement that they can deal with the ramifications of the day tomorrow since it’s been such a long and stressful day for them both.

The house is small, one bedroom only, and given the conversation they had earlier, she just assumes that they’ll share the bed, but Steve, apparently, does not seem to share that assessment, because when he leaves the bathroom, he picks up the spare blanket off the foot of the bed and heads for the door.

“You could stay,” she says, so soft she’s not sure for a second if he even heard.

“Are you sure?”

“I feel better when you’re close by,” she admits into the darkness, and a moment later, she feels the bed dip next to her as he slips under the covers.

Her hand finds his under the duvet, and she links their fingers together. She wants so badly to remember him properly, but every time she pushes, there’s a searing pain that drives its way through her skull.

“Goodnight, Diana.”

“Goodnight, Steve.”

It takes surprisingly little to drift away on the current of sleep.

The air is acrid, thick with smoke and gunpowder. She’s been here before; she knows this place. It is dark, but there are fires burning all around and the thunder of bombs, lighting up the horizon.

The earth shakes somewhere close by.

Then there’s Steve, in front of her, telling her he loves her, that he wishes they had more time. She doesn’t understand; as far as she can tell, he’s young and healthy. They have time, don’t they?

Time fuzzes and suddenly she’s staring at the sky, and a plane that she knows to be carrying Steve explodes, high above her in the cold dark air.

“NO!”

This can’t be how it ends. He can’t leave her like this. Think, Diana, she tells herself. The pain in her head is unbearable, but it is nothing compared to the one in her heart. If she can only push through, maybe she won’t have to feel this way anymore. Maybe she can change the ending. Maybe they’ll have more time.

…a cerulean ocean, and a diving plane.

…the soft shimmer of snow in lanternlight.

…a plane exploding high overhead.

…the weight of arms, too long gone and miraculously here, enfolding her.

…dancing in the late-night glow of streetlamps on a bridge over the Seine.

A thousand tiny flashes, all swirling together as her past and present unfold before her, and there at the heart—

“Steve!”

Diana sits up with a gasp, struggling for air as her brain tries to sort through the influx of information that it suddenly has access to once more. It’s all out of order and too much at once, but it’s there.

A hand on her shoulder tells her that Steve’s woken up too, and she slumps back against him, relishing the way he rearranges his arm so that she’ll be more comfortable.

“Did you remember the basil plants this time?” Diana asks, exhausted.

He lets out a little huff. “I was a little busy, what with—” She feels him stiffen under her, the whole of his body silently asking the question that his mouth isn’t. “Diana?” he manages, hesitantly.

She twists a little in his arms so that she can see his face. “I’m so sorry I forgot you.”

Everything in him relaxes. “You didn’t; not really.”

“No,” she corrects, “I think it would be impossible to forget you entirely. You’re written in my soul.”

He chokes a little at that, squeezes her closer, shifting just enough so that he can rest his forehead against hers.

“I’m glad you’re back, Angel.”

Diana kisses him softly, feels the dampness on his cheeks. “Oh, my love. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” he insists.

“No, but I ache for what you must have felt, and yet you handled it all so calmly.”

“Shit, Diana, I was terrified,” Steve admits, somehow managing to pull her even closer, like he’s scared she might physically disappear, too. “It was only a day, but it felt like a century. I mean, we’ve had some pretty good times, and I didn’t want to be the only guardian of those memories.”

“That will never happen.”

“You can’t know that,” he says helplessly.  

“I can. We always find our way back to each other, my love. I believe in us.”  

“And you say I’m the one that spouts the romantic lines.”

“You love it.”

“I do.” He kisses her, soft and slow, and any quip she might have had flies directly out of her head in favor of this feeling.

“Don’t forget me between now and tomorrow,” Steve whispers later as they drowse next to each other.

“I wouldn’t even dream of it,” Diana promises, tucking her face back into the juncture between his shoulder and neck, before falling asleep herself.

(She doesn’t—her promises, after all, are unbreakable.)

***

[witchbitchblue420]

🍃 SMOKABLE HERBS💚

Chamomile- When infused as a tea, the gold liquid relieves anxiety and is sedative. By smoking chamomile, you will earn the same benefits as of drinking chamomile tea.

By smoking chamomile you inhale the molecules it contains and in that way you consume the healthy properties of the herb. (Same as happens with cannabis)

•Lavender- When smoking lavender, you'll receive a relaxing feeling that can also be described as euphoric. However, you will never feel high when smoking lavender.which is why most mix it with cannabis .

•Mugwart- Many ancient cultures smoked mugwort to promote vivid dreams. It also produces a very mild psychotropic effect while you’re awake.

Smoking Qualities: This herb is a light smoke with a pleasant, slightly sweet flavor.

💥💥 note that mugwart can cause issues with pregnancy💥💥

•Blue lotus- The dried flowers of the Blue Lotus plant are smoked or steeped in a tea in order to give the user a sense of peaceful relaxation. Blue Lotus is noted for its calming euphoria, aphrodisiac qualities, and sedation.

•Mullein- Mullein has a long history of use as a lung tonic. It can actually help you stop coughing when you're sick. Smoking Qualities: The smoke is extremely light and mild, almost like smoking air, and virtually flavorless.

•Blue skullcap- Skullcap has a mild calming effect when smoked.

Smoking Qualities: This herb is a medium smoke, with a fairly neutral flavor.

•Red raspberry- Raspberry leaf contains a lot of medicinal compounds such as tannins,flavonoids, ellagic acid,vitamin A, C, potassium, calcium and phosphorus. Raspberry leaf is also useful to overcome various diseases such as diabetes, menstrual disorders, fertility disorders, diarrhea and others. Raspberry is often used as a herbal tea ingredients.

Benefits and effects

* An alternative for those who want to stop smoking

* Neutralize poison that had been caused by the nicotine content in tobacco

* Lowers blood sugar levels

* Reduce pain in childbirth

* Increases the fertility for men and women

* Tighten the skin

* Sedative and muscle relaxant

•Lions ear- The dried foliage of Leonotis - both Wild Dagga and Klip Dagga - can be used as a legal substitute for marijuana (ganja, cannabis, hemp).

* Smoking this dried herb gives an euphoric-like effect and exuberance.

* The flowers are the most potent part and can be smoked or used as a calming tea.

•Mint- Mints are used primarily to impart flavor to smoking blends. There are many varieties worth experimenting with, including spearmint, peppermint, chocolate mint, Close relatives of mint, including lemon balm (lemony flavor) and yerba buena (sweet menthol flavor), are often incorporated in smoking blends, as well.

•Spearmint- Smoking mint leaves improve blood circulation and relax nerves.

•White horehound- Women use white horehound for painful menstrual periods. unique herb native to the Mediterranean, white horehound is a very potent anti-inflammatory, specifically regarding respiratory inflammation.

•Peppermint- Peppermint leaves clears the lungs and respiratory passages and can make breathing easier.

•Angelica- Smoking the leaves of the Angelica plant is said to increase clairvoyance and visions.

•Coltsfoot- Coltsfoot is an expectorant, helping to free phlegm from the lungs.

Smoking Qualities: This herb is a light smoke with a neutral flavor, but can cause harsh coughing if used in a high concentration in smoking blends.

•Bear berry-The smoking blend known as Kinnikinnick is said to increase gifts of vision and prophecy, purify ritual space, and carry prayers to the heavens. Combine equal parts Bearberry and Tobacco leaf. Smoke in a pipe, or burn as incense prior to magickal work.

•St. John’s wart- One of the most common medicinal herbs in the world, St John's Wort is best known as an all-around “feel good” plant. It's a mood stabilizer and enhancer that has been used for centuries to alleviate depression and melancholy. St John's Wort can also reduce symptoms of anxiety and obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD). When smoked, St John's Wort acts as a mood-elevating sedative, erasing signs of tension throughout the body.

•Wormwood- contrary to popular belief, you won't bear witness to any dancing green goblins after ingesting this unique herb. It's a light anesthetic, providing relief to pain and muscle/menstrual cramps. Smoking wormwood releases mild effects that help reduce pain, headaches, and even rheumatism.

How to Make Your Own Herbal Smoking Blend

* Smoking mixtures are largely a matter of personal tastes and preferences – experiment with different herb combinations to see what suits you best – but here are the basics to get you started.

    1. Harvest fresh, young leaves, ideally in the morning after the dew has evaporated.

    2. Dry the leaves slowly indoors – try hanging them in bundles from the ceiling or spreading them out on a window screen(Don’t dry them fast in an oven, as you want the leaves to retain a bit of moisture for a smoother smoke.)

    3. Once dry, crush the leaves by hand into an even consistency.

    4. Combine according to the guidelines below:

~General Guidelines~

    * Marijuana is the ideal “base” for smoking blends in my humble opinion. It should form about 50 percent of the mixture.

    * Then add several other herbs for the “body” of the blend. Mugwort and skullcap create a headier smoke, while uva-ursi gives it more of a tobacco-like quality. Add a bit of coltsfoot if you’re lungs are irritated from frequent tobacco use. Combined, these herbs should constitute about 40 percent of the blend.

    * Use flavoring herbs, like mints and sages, for the final 10 percent of the blend.

    * If the blend is too harsh when you smoke it, trying spritzing the dried herbs with a spray bottle to reintroduce moisture.

    * Store smoking blends in glass jars or resealable plastic pouches.

✨Please research each herb before you smoke it, because there are side effects to each of them especially if you're on other medications.✨

[ajitp123]

Zandu roll-on, remedies for headaches, gout pain relief, best balm for headaches,

Zandu Roll On is a versatile balm that provides relief from headaches, gout pain, and other types of discomfort. This easy-to-use roll-on formula provides fast-acting relief, making it the perfect remedy for those who need to get on with their day without being slowed down by pain. Whether you're looking for relief from a headache or gout pain, Zandu Roll-On is the best balm to choose for fast and effective relief. Zandu also sells ZANDU ORTHO VEDIC OIL, ZANDU BALM, and Zandu Ultra Power Balm.

[altagraye]

Faith  miniseries (part 1)

**T. W.!!: self harm, suicidal thoughts, self doubt, sad reader.

*this is my first xreader ever so i hope it aint sloppy. 💋

There were very few things that scared the Winchesters but tonight their fear was palpable. Most of the time they were passive and observant. Even Dean didn't want to open that can of worms. Ever since that hunt a few weeks ago, the one no one talked about on the 2 day drive home, something with you has been wrong. Like you got your wires crossed and you haven't been the same since. It has been gradual, like watching someone sinking in quicksand or dying of cancer.  

You weren't stupid, you could tell that they have been distantly observing you as if you had a ticking time bomb strapped to your torso at all times. You noticed the change of mood in the kitchen when you'd finally gotten yourself out of bed to grab a cup of coffee. It's like your presence sucked the life out of a room, much like a Dementor from Harry Potter. You didn't know which hurt more, the deafening silence, the obvious coaxed smiles from Sam, or the steady stares from Dean when your back was turned. Sometimes when you were awake enough, you heard the brothers arguing about something, you'd tricked yourself to overhear certain words in their heated arguments, and convinced yourself they hadn't been arguing about you. But they clearly were.  

Cas, the usual flat faced stoic of the Bunker had twinges of concern in his oceanic orbs. Were you that messed up? That a fuckin' angel was concerned about you? What the hell happened? It started with that hunt. That much you know, right? Maybe it started before that? When it did sink in, you started to spend much more time cooped up in your room. You liked the softness of your bed and the warmth of your bed-covers. Suddenly you didn't want to go...anywhere. You spent your days sleeping and struggling to keep your eyes open enough to hear what Sam had conjured up about a potential case. The nights, those were the worst though. In the night you couldn't get to sleep if you tried. And that was when you felt most alone. You hated being awake, if you were awake you were thinking. And thinking means remembering just how much of a screw up you knew you were.

Team Free Will just came back from a hunt which you had to pull teeth just to get to stay in the confines of the Bunker. It had been a few days. You don't remember the last time you ate. Was it when you ate the second to last slice of apple pie in the middle of the night when your insomnia was at its peak? Or was that this evening when you woke up to a grumbling stomach that you couldn't ignore, so you quelled it with warm chicken broth. You didn't feel deserving enough to eat solid food today. Your lips were cracked and severely chapped even though you knew you kept your lip balm in the bedside table, within reach. Your long hair is disheveled in its bun and you can't stop sneezing because you forgot to take your medicine today, again. What a failure. You can't take care of yourself. It would be so much better if you could just lay down in your bed and sleep. Sleep and dream, forever.  

Face it, the Winchesters are so much better without you. Dean doesn't need you burdening him. He would only have to carry your dead weight around on cases. You can't even muster up the courage to walk up to houses and round up info on the local legends, doing door-to-door sweeps. What in all Hell makes you think Dean could be attracted to someone, some frail little girl trapped in the past? You weren't his type anyhow, a plus-sized book worm didn't turn him on. How could it? You saw his porno-mags. Those girls were, perfection. Miles away from what you were. They were tall, sculpted shades of golden skin. They were the definition of success, confidence, beauty. Qualities you'd convinced yourself you weren't. You saw their type in multiple bartenders that you painfully watched Dean flirt with. From your table at the bar, it stung to see Dean's pearly whites brighten in the lights of the illuminated bar. His expression full of child-like glee, effortless and innocent. Sam was next to you for protection, his face buried in his tablet searching diligently through lore and articles of missing peoples.  

You shuffle your feet audibly into the kitchen. Even though you don't feel like eating, you need to eat at least a sandwich in Dean's presence. The brothers were sipping beer at the table in the kitchen while you fixed yourself a wimpy pb & j. Sitting down at the very edge of the metal table you stared for a long moment at your sandwich. I hate this, it's making me sick to even look at food, you think to yourself. You take a bite and chew slowly, wanting so hard to spit it out. You're too fat already. Why do you eat in the first place? Those thoughts stew in your head as you notice the Winchester brothers are staring at you. You notice someone is talking to you but it doesn't register. You swallow the bite unwillingly, closing your eyes like you had just done something terrible.  

"Y/N? Earth to Y/N?" You recognize the husk in the voice to be Dean's. You flinch and look at him, wishing immediately you hadn't stared into those perfect green orbs. The expression on his face let you know that he knew there was definitely something wrong with you. God you're such a freak. You drag your tongue on your left canine, the one that has always been particularly sharp. Feeling a cold sweat begin to drip down your neck, you start to panic. You drop your sandwich on its plate and rise from your seat. You need the sanctuary of your messy bedroom, the softness of the mattress. You need the coolness of the sheets. Your small feet tap the tile of the floor beneath you but you notice sound behind you that will your body to go faster. They were following after you.  

You'd never been more afraid that they'd find out what was in your head. That Dean would find out how you felt about him and about yourself. That can't be an option. You knew what would be next, what was inevitable. The dreaded talk. You finally reach the knob of your bedroom door, your palm slipping as you fumble with it from sweating. Just as they are about to reach you, you open the door and slam it shut behind you, locking it. You heart is racing against your chest. Locking the door isn't enough. So you barricade the door with your dresser. As you do so, you feel yourself breaking and hot tears flow down your face soaking into your hoodie.  

"Y/N?! C'mon, open the door." Sam says.

"Whatever it is we can talk about it. Y/N. Please?" Dean's tone is almost unlike him. You'd only ever heard him use this kind of tone with children who were in the midst of trauma from an awry hunt. Is that what he thought of you as? A wounded child in need of coddling? Or maybe even worse, a wounded animal.

You don't answer and there is a long pause. You need relief and release in the only way you know how. You rummage through your bedside table drawer and find a thin hunting knife, the one Dean gave you a few years ago. Your first gift from him. You pull down the fleece-like fabric of your sweatpants to reveal scars, left over from self-inflicted pain, years gone by. They were raised and pink lines. They wouldn't understand. You hear thudding from the other side of your door, that can only mean the brothers are getting more desperate, using their bodyweight to try and get inside.  

"Y/N!!" Dean yells for you in between the thudding.  

"GO AWAY!" You yell as you drag the sharpness across your skin. Red bubbles up from the cut and for a few seconds you feel relief. But it doesn't stop the pain. You cry more, sobbing uncontrollably. The salty tears blurring your vision until they spill over staining your cheeks. You need more, so you add more cuts, one by one. Oddly you chuckled at your macabre artwork, thinking you just made your thigh look like a piece of lined paper. You start your work on the opposite thigh, digging in a little deeper with each line.  

You hear someone suck in a breath sharply. Someone was in the room with you. During your release, you never noticed the dresser move or the door opening. Looking up from your bloodied thighs you see Dean staring back at you. His blade still in your hand, red dripping down your skin and slipping into the pure white sheets.  

"Y/N? Hey, that's okay. Put the knife down, alright?" He said to you smiling at you flashing his bright white impeccable teeth, Sam in the background of your bedroom doorway with his hand clasped over his mouth in a blank stare. More tears sear themselves into your eyes and flood over. Your lips are quivering. You drop your knife released from your trembling hand, it thunks itself into the wooden floor below. You don't dare look back at Dean. You curl yourself up as best as possible granted the size of your stomach won't let you pull your knees to your chest.

You collapse onto your bed facing your pillows, you sob into them and hold one tight to your face in a feeble attempt to hide yourself. You feel Dean sit next to you on the bed, and he begins to stroke your back in soothing motions. His effortless acts of kindness make you break more. You feel the onset of a nasty headache forming, from the intensity of your sobbing. You can barely make out Dean telling Sam to bring a first aid kit and water. Dean shushes you and continues to stroke your back and your arm.

"You don't have to tell me anything. Just take deep breaths, 'kay? Here, I'll do it too." He breathes deep in and out, hard enough to be audible. Why was he so nice to me all of a sudden?? You begin to feel numb, and you weren't sure if this was from the emotional break down or the blood loss. Had you cut too deep this time? Sam returns with the first aid kit. You note its metal clink on the bedside table. You unbury your face from your pillow only to get a breath of fresh air. You don't look at Dean or Sam. You couldn't. Dean thanks his younger brother for the glass of water and the kit.  

"Can you give us a minute Sammy?" Dean asks.

"Sure. As long as you need." Sam confirms and you hear the heavy footed thuds of his boots exit your room. Dean does something that you don't expect. He lays down on his side, with you. Spooning up against your form. You mentally whack yourself in the head, he's getting his jeans all bloody, that you're sure of. He continues to stroke your arm softly. He hooks his chin into the nook of your shoulder.

"Whenever you're ready. I'm all ears." He tells you, the gentleness in his tone brings you to tears again. You weep silently. Was this really happening? You don't budge or say a word as sleep takes you over and you feel so amazingly content. You melt into the rhythmic breaths that Dean takes. The act soothes you into dreamland. For the first time in a while you think, I want to wake up to him next to me. And you swear you smile in your slumber.

End part 1.

*criticism is taken constructively.

*comments are golden.

[animemangasoul]

You Are Wanted Obi-Wan Kenobi

Summery: Qui-Gon lives and Mace gets a new Padawan.

[In which Qui-Gon repudiates Obi-Wan and Mace isn't about to let the kid leave the order without a fight.]

Chapter: 4/10

Obi-Wan came to, to a throbbing headache, a flaring pain in his abdominal region and two warm bodies sprawled on top of him on either side. Full awareness had yet to sink in, faint traces of nightmares still clinging to his consciousness; threatening to drag him back under.

 But the painful memories they spun through his mind were not easy to shake off. The warmth of Master Qui-Gon's presence dimming under his desperate hands, his own injuries screaming in agony, the tears, the horror, the force within him, building and building until it burst. Until there was nothing.

 Until he was nothing.

 He remembered it all so vividly. Even weeks later, those excruciating moments clawed at his chest, screamed in his soul, choked his heart.

 It had hurt, Obi-Wan remembered that much. Being stabbed by the Sith had nothing on the pain that came after forcefully healing his Master with everything he had. He'd never been a proficient healer, had never learned nor mastered the art, but fear and desperation had forced his hand and as his Master had begged him to let him go, begged him to not endanger his life, begged him to train the Chosen One, Obi-Wan remembered shaking his head; tears running down his face, remembered how he'd let his emotions rule him.

 How he'd clung to a man ready to join the force. How he'd exhausted himself, holding onto a soul ready to depart as he poured his very essence into his Master, until there was nothing left in him anymore.

 And he remembered, Qui-Gon tears splattering against his hands. Remembered how his Master had tried to heal him in turn, but his body had rejected it. As if the force required penance for his crimes. As if by giving himself fully to bring Qui-Gon back, the force shied away from him.

 It was the last thing he recalled. That face, his Master's face marred in so much pain, so much horror, so much desperation and so much grief.

 It had been the last thing he'd seen. His Master alive and breathing. Obi-Wan had thought then that his time had come and if, he'd wondered as his gaze connected with the pleading eyes of Master Qui-Gon Jinn, if he was to go saving his Master, then there was no greater honour. And so he'd let the darkness take him, consciousness fading to declaration of love and sobbing demands to please wake up.

 'If I die saving you, Master,' he'd thought, wrapping his thinning force presence around the grieving man in comfort. 'Then I'm glad. I'm so very glad.'

 And then, there was nothing.

 A blissful moment of silence. A fleeting moment of peace. Until he was forcefully dragged back,

 Until he opened his eyes and found himself alive.

 Oh and if the reality he woke up too wasn't a nightmare he rather not have laid his eyes on. Even now, his eyes stung thinking about it. The betrayal, the abandonment, the…….

 His Master had repudiated him, hadn't he?

 Clenching his teeth, Obi-Wan blinked frantically to stave away the oncoming wave of tears.

 'No,' he hissed at himself. 'I won't cry anymore. Never again. Not over this.'

 What was done was done. No amount of self-pity and confusion was going to clarify it. And Obi-Wan couldn't linger in the past, not anymore.

 'Here and now, Padawan,' he thought bitterly. 'keep your concentration here and now where it belongs.'

 He gritted his teeth and sighed, feeling exhausted even as it appeared that he had actually gotten a goodnight sleep, going by the bright morning light breaking through the window.

 A soft mumble against his ear snapped him out of his grief and he blinked. Turning ever so slightly as not to disturb the man sleeping next to him he came nose to nose with the peaceful face of Quinlan. His best friend making a little noise at the back of his throat, brows furrowing before he sighed and leaned forward, his forehead coming to rest on Obi-Wan's shoulder.

 Exhaling gently, Obi-Wan ignored the painful twinge of his heart at the action and carefully pressed his cheek atop the crow of the other man's head. Closing his eyes in silent gratitude.

 Leaving the Halls had been such relief, but he'd also dreaded it. Maybe that's why he'd been so cooperative with Master Che; the healer endlessly suspicious of his respectful attitude and his lack of attempts to flee the scene. It was unusual for him after all, to be so obedient. But he hadn't done it out of any sense of respect, not really. Because despite his reckless need to be independent and his bone deep fear of medics, the outside world was so much scarier than the white walls of the Halls.

 To cry out for independence and for it to thrust into his lap in the cruelest way imaginable. It rattled him. And in a way, he found hiding within the Halls of Healing, away from the prying eyes of the public, gave him the only level of dignity he could be afforded.

 Sighing, he allowed himself to drown in the two force presence surrounding him. Little Aayla's force signature still a little unfamiliar to him, but all the more welcoming. The newly minted Padawan had practically shadowed Quinlan for as long as she'd been at the Temple, and while Obi-Wan hadn't had the pleasure to talk to her often, her gentle kindness had been a balm against his burned soul these past couple of weeks.

 Smiling softly at the Twi'lek girl pressed against his side, Obi-Wan fumbled for Quin's hand, squeezing it lightly even as the sudden movement; little as it were, sent a flash of pain across his chest.

 Still, the presence of this particular Master, Padawan duo made the turmoil of his current situation just the tiniest bit more bearable.

 He hadn't wanted anyone to come along when he'd left the Halls, all the attention and broadcasted worry by his friends and new Master, making him uncomfortable. So he'd left them with a grateful goodbye. Master Windu pushing him to their newly shared quarters.

 It had been embarrassing, being fussed over. Master Windu clearly had other more important businesses and order meetings to take care of, but somehow the man had made himself available for his discharge and kept a steady follow of conversation between them as he guided the hoverchair to Obi-Wan's new home. "I can walk, Master," he remembered saying; face ducked into his chest to avoid the curious glances sent his way. "You can go if you want."  And he remembered Master Windu placing a gentle hand atop of his head and patting him gently in response.

 "I know you can kid," he'd huffed. "But there is no need to strain yourself when you don't have to." And that had been the end of it. Somehow the warmth emitting from Master Windu's force presence curling around him in soft comfortable that Obi-Wan didn't quite know why it made him want to cry. So he only flushed deep red and nodded. Content in sharing this little moment with his new Master.

 Rarely had Master Qui-Gon been so open with his worry and concern for him, his action of course spoke louder than words and Obi-Wan vividly recalled his former Master's arms around him as he sobbed into his hair, begging him to hold on. But his mind, his thoughts had always alluded him, so to experience Master Windu's care for him, so openly, so unrestrained, it had been….. Comforting.

 In the end Quin and Aayla had greeted them as soon as they'd arrived at Master Windu's quarters. Grinning at him with little Aayla rushing forward to give him a tentative hug. His weeks in the hospital had brought them closer with Anakin and her forming an adorable friendship and secretly Obi-Wan was thankful. For as sweet as Anakin could be, sometimes being in his presence, remembering how Qui-Gon chose---- sometimes it was difficult to be kind, so Aayla whether she realized it or not had been a force blessing in disguise.

 The Master, Padawan duo had refused to leave of course and with Master Windu backing them--- "It's your first night out of the Halls Obi-Wan, it's best to be careful with your recovery," there was nothing Obi-Wan could do but let them stay.

 Master Windu left shortly after that. Helping him to his bedroom first; quickly snatching up what suspiciously looked like Soresu training leaflets from the covers with fond exasperation and nearly tucked him in if he hadn't caught himself last minute, much to Quinlan's amusement and his own mortification.

 While Quinlan's presence was annoying as ever after that, practically lounging in his bed, taking up more space than required and forcing him to watch stupid holodramas. His and Aayla's company pushed away the dark thoughts clouding his mind and even as he grumbled and frowned at his best friend, Obi-Wan found himself relaxing. And just like that, their laughter and jokes, Aayla's timid little smiles and mischievous tales of her and Anakin's exploits, Quinlan's snarky comments and embarrassing retelling of Obi-Wan's childhood stories, lulled him to sleep. Holodrama forgotten and for the moment, Master Qui-Gon too.

 Now here he was, eyes tracing the ceiling of this unfamiliar bedroom, lingering ever so often on the scorch marks; likely done with a lightsaber and wondering how Master Billaba had gotten away with practicing her lightsaber forms inside her kriffing bedroom. It's the funny mental image of Master Billaba slashing across the walls, while Master Windu frantically begging her to stop, that accompanies him back to sleep. Aayla's fingers curled around the hem of his tunic and Quin's breath fanning warmth across his skin, grounding him as he slipped away into a dreamless rest.

 -----------------------

  When he woke up next, it was to a dull headache, pain bursting through his guts and a distinct lack of bodies clustering around him in his bed.

 He sighed, arm coming up to cover his eyes, teeth digging into his lower lip to keep himself from yelping at the sheer agony that flared up at his action.

 Obi-Wan took his time dragging himself out of bed. Fingers grabbing for the note by his bedside, eyes skimming over Quinlan's chicken scratches and snorting at the hurried explanation for their departing-- "Ay needs to get to class!! Can't believe I slept in!!!! You Obs make a hell of a pillow!" and of course the threats for him to take his medication or else--- "Take those pills man or I'll sic Bant on you. Don't think I won't!!!" With a crude drawing of Bant with a pitchfork.

 Obi-Wan wondered how Quin had found the time to draw the picture if he was in as much of a hurry as he said, shaking his head fondly. Clearly he'd taken his time with it too, going by the erased lines and all the redraws. Snorting in amusement, he threw back two pills, ignoring the warning of eating something first; the pain was borderline on unbearable at this point, and slowly eased himself up and in the direction of the bathroom.

 Every apartment in the Temple were simplistic and almost identical in their designs; the only difference being the size and number of rooms depending on one's status as a Jedi, so Obi-Wan managed to get through his morning routine with relative little difficulty. The shower taking the longest time as he struggled to stand through the hot water cascading down his back. He should have just settled for a sonic, he thought bitterly, but the pelting droplets of water somehow elevated the coldness in his chest and loosened his muscle; unknown tension draining from his figure and even as he pressed his face against the cool glass, legs barely able to hold him up, so he couldn't find it in himself to regret his momentary reprieve. Constantly as it might have been.

 Still, even with the painkillers dulling the pain coursing through his veins, Obi-Wan stumbled out, breath coming in gasps and even drying himself off taking more energy than his body was capable of providing. His bandages had come off around a week ago, the bacta tank having healed the external wound to a degree but Master Che fearing infection, had kept them on for a time. The healers were extra careful in how they treated him, and from the way his stomach and his insides, from the way it all burned, Obi-Wan couldn't fault them for treading lightly.

 Collapsing on the bed; pants all he'd managed to drag on, Obi-Wan scrunched his eyes shut, the trickle of tears sliding down his cheeks joining the splotches of dampness on his covers by his poorly dried hair.

 'Just a minute--' he thought, swallowing down the misery, muscles screaming from unused exhaustion.

 It appeared to be that no amount of physical therapy could make up from weeks suspended in a bacta tank. 'Just a minute.'

 At last he found himself making his way out of his new bedroom and wandering into the living room; a simple tunic the only outer layer he had any strength in pulling on before his body once again bucked against him in protest.

 Fingers clutching at the doorframe, he let his eyes scan the vast space.

 Looked like Masters on the council had much larger living space afforded to them then just being a Master. 'Or maybe it's just the Master of the Order,' Obi-Wan thought, eyes landing on the floor to roof length windows stretching from wall to wall and the meditation space separate from the living room itself and finally the modest sized kitchen down the hall that he couldn't quite see from his position.

 He'd heard rumours that outside of important council meetings, council sessions between select members were often held in Master Windu's quarters for convenience, and from the several chairs surrounding a round table by the far side and the datapads stacked like mountains in the corner, Obi-Wan was inclined to believe the rumours to be true.

 Finally, his gaze landed on the stacked boxes by the wall separating his new bedroom from Master Windu's own and he found that he couldn't quite swallow past the sudden lump in his throat.

 Those were his things.

 He knew Garen had brought them over sometime during the holodrama marathon, even offering to unpack most of it with Quin and Aayla's help; despite Garen having a mission briefing to report to.

 Obi-Wan had flat out turned it down. Firmly telling his friends that no, he didn't need help with every little thing in his life. "I'll unbox them at my own time," he'd said, glaring mulishly at them. "Just because I'm a recently recovered victim of a Sith does not mean I can't take care of myself."

 They'd eventually relented when he'd threatened to kick them all out if they didn't stop; Quin hurriedly shooing Garen out, claiming his favorite episode was coming up and he couldn't afford to be kicked out now, while Aayla just laughed at them all.

 "If you wanna waste time unpacking all this junk, be my guest," was Garen's departing words, saluting them as he went. "Don't come crying to me when you get tired." And his friends had left it at that.

 If only they'd known the real reason why he hadn't wanted their help.

 Sighing, he carefully shuffled over to the boxes, fingers running over the sealed tape, eyes stinging for just a moment at the thought of Master Qui-Gon packing away his things just so he could give his room to his new favorite Padawan. 'No,' Obi-Wan thought, even as his fingers clenched and jealousy spiked in his heart. 'This is not Anakin's fault.'

 Of course it wasn't. He was just an innocent kid, a kid who'd been through hell and now was caught up in the middle of this mess, and yet…..

 What it most have been like for him. To be chosen by Qui-Gon. To be wanted, when Obi-Wan begged and pleaded and cried for even a sliver of that attention.

 Gritting his teeth, he let his arm drop. Having Gar and Quin help him with unpacking his stuff would have been much easier all things considered; especially since Master Windu would be back around noon to check up on him as he'd promised, but…..

 Just the thought of Master Windu's kind smile and understanding eyes froze him in place. Refused to let him even entertain taking the first step in opening those boxes, because…. What if….

 What if Master Windu changed his mind?

 It's not like their partnership had been made official yet. Master Windu hadn't stood in front of the council and declared him his Padawan. Not yet….. Maybe not ever.

 What if, right this very moment, he was thinking his decision over. Realizing a grown adult Padawan was not what he was looking for. What if he was talking with Master Qui-Gon and Master Qui-Gon was telling him about all of Obi-Wan's shortcomings. What if he got back later only to inform Obi-Wan; with that sad tilt of his mouth and calming force presence that this, their partnership wouldn't work out. Because Obi-Wan was too much trouble and no one in their right mind could ever teach him and turn him into a competent Knight.

 What if Master Windu was regretting giving him hope, telling him he wouldn't be sent away and now he was stuck with him and there wouldn't be an easy way to let him down and maybe Qui-Gon had been right all along maybe Obi-Wan had never been cut out to be a Knight because if he was meant to be a Knight, why did Master Qui-Gon throw him away!

 And oh….

 Oh

 He couldn't breathe.

 Slamming a hand against his chest, he tried. His throat tightening up, a wheeze escaping past his lips.

 He couldn't breathe.

 Shutting his eyes, he counted. The silence, the quiet. He drew it to him. Focused on every inhale and exhale. One, two, three. In and out.

 'Breathe,' he told himself, the ghost of Master Qui-Gon's hand pressed between his shoulder blades. 'Breathe Obi-Wan. It's going to be okay.'

 It took him several minutes; of what felt like hours, to get his raging emotions under control, but when he did, a loud gasp pushed through his mouth, finally, and he was breathing again. Shuddering and forcefully fighting against the need to curl into a ball and weep, but breathing nonetheless.

 Obi-Wan stumbled back, using the boxes for support as he blinked away the dark spots that invaded his sight.

 Breathe.

 It's going to be okay.

 Somehow he found within himself the strength to move over to the couch and sit down. Kneels buckling underneath him as he sank into the cushions. Wiping a tired hang across his brows, Obi-Wan gave himself a window just to gather his sense and it was not a moment too soon for a couple of minutes later a knock alerted him to an unknown guest outside Master Windu's quarters.

 "Come in," he called before suddenly realizing that this wasn't actually his old quarters and unlike Master Qui-Gon's not many refused to  use access code. But just as he was about to force himself back on his feet, the door slide open and Master Billaba walked in. Hands carefully balancing a tray of food she most have gotten from the refectory as well as a slim wooden box.

 "Hello, Obi-Wan," she smiled and Obi-Wan smiled back; albeit with much more restraint and politeness.

 "Hello, Master Billaba."

 "Depa," she corrected, eyebrows raised.

 "Master Depa," he said, bowing as best as he could without agitating his recent injury.

 Stepping into the apartment, Master Billaba placed the breakfast tray on the dinner table, before she made her way over to him; wooden box in hand.

 "I don't have much time," she said, sitting down across from him. "I'm expected to be present for the council meeting starting thirty minutes from now so I most be quick." Folding her legs, Master Billaba gave him a calculating look.  "I have something for you."

 Obi-Wan stiffened. He didn't know much about Master Billaba except for her sound reputation and Master Windu's fondness of her.

 What could she possible have for him?

 'Maybe Master Windu sent her to soften the blow,' a traitorous voice whispered into his ear. 'Maybe he couldn't face you when he rejected you too.'

 Swallowing thickly, he schooled his features into serene blankness. "What do you have for me Master Bill---" she gave him a look. "Master Depa," he corrected with an apologetic smile.

 "Well," she said, and strangely enough to Obi-Wan's quiet surprise, she sounded unsure of herself as she fiddled with the cover of the box. "I talked to Mace and--" tearing her eyes from his, she exhaled loudly; her force presence coiling around her as if soothing away her worries, concern? "We talked about your Padawan-braid, Obi-Wan. How Master Jinn removed your marks of achievements when he released you from his care."

 Obi-Wan flinched, fingers immediately coming up to tug at his braid, long as it were, bare as it was. "Yes," he managed to stutter out. "That is correct."

 His pain most have reached her, for Master Billaba sent him a sympathetic smile before carefully removing the lid of the box and looking down at the content. "We both know, that for Padawans, the beads and bands they collect throughout their apprenticeship means more---" she swallowed, blinking slowly. "Means more to them, than any outsider of the Order can ever hope to understand. It signifies our commitment, our devotion, our dedication and---" a pause. "our relationship with our Masters." The last part was but a whisper, as if Master Billaba by speaking softly could somehow spare him the hurtful truth of his repudiation.

 It didn't and it was all Obi-Wan could do not to recoil from her words. "Yes," he whispered back. "Yes."

 This time, Master Billaba's smile was brittle, pained but when she met his eyes it held the calm resolve of the woman who had ha seat in the council, one of the youngest Masters to ever be appointed. He saw Master Depa Billaba of the Jedi Order and her tranquil presence helped him cobble together a modicum of composure to not fall apart right then and there. "I know Master Jinn took your accomplishment with him when he repudiated you," she said. "And what I have here might not make up for that loss, might not hold the same history or importance to you, but I hope it can give you…., a sense of closure and a sense of closeness to those that do care for you."

 Obi-Wan blinked, confused. "What---" he started, but before he could even formulate an appropriate question, Master Billaba stood up and gently placed the open box in his lap and when Obi-Wan looked down he saw beads of several different colours.

 Blue and red and pearl white and, was that Bant's pale green band that Tahl had given her for all those years ago?---- "I don't understand," he mumbled, a single finger running over a diamond shaped bead that distinctly looked like the one he'd seen in Garen's braid just a cycle ago. "I don't….. What is this?"

 Resting a hand on his shoulder, Master Billaba projected warmth, comfort and calmness through to him and Obi-Wan found the tension within his body slowly easing away. "Your apprenticeship is nearly over and I felt that it was wrong for you to have to finish it without all the accomplishment you have achieved with your own merits  on display like every Padawan that came before you and will come after you. Therefore I had an idea--" she squeezed his shoulder slightly. "And so I ran it by Mace and your fellow Jedi and it looks like many of your crèchemates and friends value you dearly Obi-Wan Kenobi. Those beads are either from their former Padawan braids that they have requested from their Masters or from their current braids in the case of Padawan Eerin and Padawan Reeft. Each contributed a single bead or band, to you." Leaning over so she could meet his eyes, Master Billaba smiled, soft, kind, gentle. "You are very loved Obi-Wan, I wished for you to know that."

 "Oh."

 Oh

 For what else could he say.

 Here were all the….. The evidence of how much…..

 He hadn't been the brightest Youngling nor the strongest Initiate and his years as Master Qui-Gon's Padawan were fraught with controversies and infractions, and for the longest time he'd known, in his heart of hearts that he was destined for infinite sadness. That in his path lay nothing but misery and suffering.

 So to see, despite of his current predicament, despite his rejection, despite his bone deep loneliness, this level of kindness. It…..

 Every bead and band gave of  little pulses of familiar force signatures. Without needing to concentrate Obi-Wan could feel them all. He could feel Quin and Bant and Reeft and Gar. And he could feel Master Billaba, Master Windu and Master Plo Koon. His crèchemates and Masters Friends he'd met throughout his years as a Padawan and…..

 Obi-Wan didn't quite know when he started crying, but when the first droplet of water splashed atop of the silk green band, he raised a finger to brush against his cheek.

 'Would you look at that,' he thought, faintly aware of Master Billaba coming to sit next to him. 'I'm crying.'

 "Who's this one from?" He finally managed to whisper after an infinite time of him just staring down at a gift he didn't know quite what to do with. "I don't recognize….the force signature?" Obi-Wan had asked in hopes of distracting himself from his embarrassing display of emotions but holding the green little orb in his hand, the question still held true. This bead was the only one whom its force signature was wholly unfamiliar to him.

 "That one belonged to Feemor," Master Billaba said, eyes far away and lips drawn into a sad frown. "He is an old friend."

 Curiously staring down at the green bead, Obi-Wan wiped away his tears and felt for the gentle force pulsing from it. It was calming. "Could you… thank him for me? All of them I mean. I…. I'm not quite sure how to react, it's….. Thank them for me?"

 Master Billaba squeezed his shoulder again. "Of course," she said and with that was on her feet making her way to the door. "Oh and Obi-Wan," she called back.

 "Yeah?" Fingers digging into the wood, he barely managed to tear his eyes away from it.

 "Mace told me that your Padawan announcement will be held in front of the council tomorrow afternoon and if you're not up for it physically it will be held here, in your quarters."

 "What?"

 Master Billaba's force presence wrapped around him in a hug. "You will officially become my Padawan brother tomorrow, Padawan Kenobi. Congratulations."

 "I…. I don't--"

 What do you say in the face of such overwhelming kindness?

 "Thank you," he said, face probably blotched, nose red and eyes stinging. "I will be ready to go to the council….when I'm called."

 Master Billaba nodded, her fondness all but ruffling his hair and Obi-Wan found himself ducking, blushing at the carefree display of affection. "Take care, Obi-Wan," walking out the door, she nodded at the dinner table. "And eat your breakfast."

 Letting out a watery chuckle, Obi-Wan shook his head. "I will."

 And with that, Master Billaba was gone, vanishing out the door as quickly as she'd walked through it. Leaving behind a new legacy and a new bond.

 Obi-Wan sat on the couch for a long time simply looking at the handful of beads swimming at the bottom of the box, silently wondering how Quin had managed to keep it a secret from him this whole time. It most have taken so much effort. Knights like Gar and Quin having to go back to their former Masters to request a single token from them and they'd done it all, for him.

 Closing the box with a gentle click, Obi-Wan stood up. It was time to unpack his things.

 "One step at a time," he told himself, a tiny smile lurking at the corner of his mouth.

 Maybe after all these weeks he could finally move forward. Maybe Master Windu was right, and it would all work out in the end.

 Maybe, just maybe.

The End

Note: In this AU I'm going by the popular headcanon that Feemor had a previous Master who died and Qui-Gon picked up his training and saw him through to knighthood. Half of Feemor's braid is therefore put under his bed with his former Master's belongings and the other half he gave to Qui-Gon and that's how he could also give Obi-Wan his bead. Also it paints an interesting parallel between the qui-gon who helped a padawan who lost his master to knighthood and the jaded qui-gon of today who is the one abandoning a padawan willingly to train the chosen one.

Chapter: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10

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Unwanted

Listened to Logan’s playlist, so naturally, had to write some angst because oh boy does he need some love. I might write a follow up to this, if you guys want one, let me know!

AO3

Next

...

“Logan.” He startles at the voice. He hadn’t heard anyone knock, hadn’t heard the door open, though it must have.

 He's sitting at his desk, papers stacked and sorted neatly, the schedule in front of him, which he is comparing to the calendar on his computer, compiling the two, making sure all birthdays and holidays are listed, all social events and commitments and activities and work sessions are allotted time. Trying to make Thomas's schedule line up with their schedule, so the best suited to handle each potential situation is on hand should they be needed.

 It’s a headache and a nightmare but it’s his job, and he doesn’t mind it, truly. Finds it to be like a complex puzzle, rearranging and reworking the pieces until they snap together with a satisfying click.

 But he finds himself wondering more and more one simple question: why?

 Why keep making a schedule that will inevitably and always be tossed out the window? Why make and arrange plans when they will never be followed through on? Why keep speaking if no one is listening, why keep showing up if nobody cares, why is he needed at all?

 He isn’t, is the simple answer. The logical answer. So why does it hurt, to think of himself as unwanted, unnecessary, unneeded? He doesn’t have emotions. He doesn’t care. He is logic, he is a robot, he has always been a cold amalgamation of science and fact and blunt objectivism.

 A heart can’t break if it doesn’t exist to begin with.

 “Logan-"

“What?” He snaps, not looking up from his work, one hand rubbing his temple, the other tapping a pen against his chin idly in thought. “I have work to do, Deceit.” His eyes are blurring and he doesn’t think he’s actually comprehended what he’s looking at for the past five minutes, but it isn’t a lie. He has work to do.

 “You need rest. It can wait.” Deceit's voice is soft, inviting, but he shakes his head, regretting it as it starts to dully throb.

 “I’ll finish this then go to bed.” He replies, not even sure what he’s saying.

 “Logan, it can wait. You’re going to have to redo it in a few days, anyway.” He knows this. Knows that they will ignore the schedule, then wonder why they’re behind on work, and then he would be blamed and have to remake the schedule to fit everything in at the last minute until it became a hurried scramble to get it all finished and he’d be told to plan better next time. This is a fact.

 So why does Deceit saying it so casually, admitting out loud that his work means nothing, why does it hurt? He slams the planner shut.

 “yes, thank you for enlightening me, Deceit. I already know that my work is extraneous, but I just really needed someone to point out how stupidly useless it is tonight.” He doesn’t know where this angry, heated, bitterness is coming from, but it burns on his tongue and sets his stomach churning as he glares at Deceit, who looks taken aback.

 “if you would like to inform me on the proper use of the word infinitesimal or give me flash cards that I try to use to better relate to the others but only succeed in inducing mockery, that would be greatly appreciated. Otherwise, I am not in the mood for your company." His head is pounding now, and Deceit is looking at him with complete shock, and he can’t stand this anymore.

 “Logan, please-" Deceit reaches out, and he chokes back a bitter laugh, because of course Dee would be the only one who even cared to notice.

 “go.” He says lowly, almost a growl. Deceit hesitates. “Go!” he yells, loud and choked and fierce, and Deceit does, fleeing out the door in the face of his anger, which vanishes as quick as it came.

 He locks the door, sliding down to the floor, instantly overtaken by sobs as he buries his head in his arms, shaking from the force of them, wheezing as each sob only makes his head pound more, his vision blur and spots dance behind his eyelids, which makes him sob harder, which makes the pain grow. A vicious cycle, which he can’t seem to stop.

 Somehow, he manages to crawl his way to the bathroom, making it to the toilet before he throws up, hot tears tracking down his face as he spits the last of the sour bile. His head is resting weakly against the toilet seat, the cool rim balm to his aching, pounding head.

 The light is so bright, but he doesn’t have the strength to move to shut it off, the throbbing behind his eyes pounding in time with his pulse, spots of white jumping through his vision as he groans, throwing an arm over his head to block out what he can.

 Least listened to. Least appreciated. Least needed. Least loved.

 The truths eat at his heart, cloying decay in his chest, acid in his brain because what is the point of even trying? If no one wanted him at his very best, certainly no one would ever want him now.

 His head is heavy as the weight of the sun, swimming with stars and explosions of dark light that popped with agony and sends him gasping as his stomach churns. He barely notices the tears anymore, the exhaustion sweeping through him too much to resist, the emotions swirling through him too loud, and he is all too willing to let his mind shut down, if only for a few hours, so he doesn’t have to feel anymore. He wishes he never had to feel, period.

 “I can do that.” He doesn’t even have the capability of surprise anymore as gray streaked hair and electric green eyes come into view. “I can help.”

 He nods, too tired to do anything else, weakly reaching out a hand. Remus takes it, gently running his thumb over his knuckles, before lifting it to his lips, kissing it tenderly.

 Logan gasps, feeling… nothing, as everything drains from him. All the hurt and doubt and pain and loathing fades to absolutely nothing, leaving him empty and numb and his mind blessedly absently silent.

 “oh, Lolo.” Remus whispers, all the negativity and bad thoughts he’s absorbed from Logan cycling through his mind, and he feels the sting and pain of every one of them as if they were his own, the price of taking them to begin with.

 They make him want to tear out his intestine or jam pencils in his eyes or dig and dig and dig in his ears until he reaches his brain and can pull it out one gooey piece at a time, but he doesn’t. He sits, shaking with the effort of not until it passes, and he can focus on Logan, who had so much negativity in that pretty head of his that there had been no room for anything good, as evidenced by his empty, glassy eyed stare, eyes open and unseeing.

 “come on, Polaris. Let’s get you taken care of.” He murmurs, pushing back Logan's hair, wincing at the heat of his forehead. Carefully, he scoops Logan up in his arms. Logan doesn’t react, doesn’t move, doesn’t make a sound, and that worries him more than anything. “Go to sleep, starry night. Everything'll be better in the morning.” Logan's eyes slip closed without more coaxing, limp in his arms. He presses a soft kiss to Logan's forehead, finally getting a response as Logan lets out a soft sigh, head tilting so it rests in the crook of his elbow.

 ...

 He wakes slowly, head pounding, feeling like it’s stuffed with cotton. He tries to move, but the slightest shift sends nausea flipping through his stomach, and he retches, barely feeling someone help him sit up, holding a pail under him. His stomach is empty, but it still takes his body a few long minutes to realize it and stop its violent upheaval.

 After a long moment, be slumps back into whoever's arms are supporting him, squeezing his eyes shut against the too bright noise of the room, trying to ignore the shaky tears on his face. He still feels numb, mind a bit fuzzed and unfocused, and he shivers despite the warmth he can feel around him, it isn’t enough.

 “Here, starlight. Can you drink something for me?” Someone presses a cup into his shaky hands, helping him raise it to his lips. He manages a few shaky sips before his stomach protests and he shoves the cup away, not wanting another round of pain. He trembles, feeling himself pulled closer to the warmth supporting him. Without thinking, he buries his face against it with a wordless whimper, that movement making his head spin and pulse harder, his hands fisting fabric, squeezing in a futile effort to make the world stop rotating. He feels someone gently running a hand up and down his back, someone crooning softly, gentle pressure as someone rests their head atop his, pressing soft kisses against his hair.

 “remus?” he slurs, finally recognizing that voice now that the world was barely wobbling, the darkness of Remus's shirt against his closed lids a blessed relief from the too loud light.

 “Shhh. I’ve got you, polaris.” His tongue feels thick and dry, but he forces it to work.

 “Polaris?” he hears Remus chuckle softly, a hand brushing back his hair.

 “That’s the north star, isn't it? The guiding light in the oceans and oceans of space?” Logan murmurs an affirmative, barely lucid.

 “Well, that’s what you are, to me. Steady. Dependable. When everything is too much and too loud, you give me balance. You’re my guiding light, Logan. My Polaris.” Remus murmurs gently, not minding the wet spot he can feel growing on his shirt, instead continuing to rub Logan's back, murmur softly, until he falls back into an exhausted sleep.

 Remus looks up as the door quietly opens just enough for Deceit to slip through, closing it quietly behind him.

 “Any better?” he asks lowly, frowning as he sits on the bed beside Remus, Logan curled against him, practically on his lap. Remus shakes his head, eyes clouded with worry.

 “he woke up for just a bit. Hurled again. Fever's holding steady. Isn’t any worse, at least. Got him to drink a bit of water. He knew it was me and didn’t flip out, so I think we’re good on that account.” Deceit nods, running a hand through his curly, disheveled hair for the thousandth time, wincing as he pulls a knot.

 “If we can get some food in him, we could give him a dose of Benadryl, but not on an empty stomach like this, it’d just make it worse. I… gods, what do we do?” he breathes out, tucking another blanket around Logan.

 “This. This is what he needs.” Remus answers, looking down at Logan. “I felt it, dee. There was so much. It’s still rattling around up here.” Remus taps his head, biting his lip. “It still hurts, Dee.” Deceit softens, honey eyes meeting Remus's.

 “I know. Can I?” he asks, holding open his arms. Remus smiles, carefully shifting Logan out of his lap, the soft sound of protest quickly dying as he is settled against Deceit, who cradles him with all six arms, holding him, rubbing his back, teasing through his hair, stroking his cheek. Logan leans into it all, every touch eliciting a small sigh of happiness, a small breath of relief until the logical side has practically melted against him, as if he hasn’t felt touch in years.

 Remus wraps an arm around Dee, holding him as he holds Logan, encasing the two of them in warmth.

 “he feels useless, Dee. Unwanted. Unneeded.”

 “I know. And we will show him otherwise.” Comes the fervent reply, as Logan stirs uneasily in his sleep.

...

 He's not sure he's awake, at first. It’s warm. Cozily warm, and soft and he lets out a small breath as he shifts closer into the warmth, relieved as the world stays stationary, his head barely pounds.

 “Logan?” Deceit, he’s being held by Deceit.

 “I’m sorry. For yelling at you. I didn’t mean to, I-"

 “I know, dearie, it’s ok. Why didn’t you tell anyone you were so sick?” Deceit's hand is carding through his hair, and it feels so good, it’s hard to focus on anything else.

 “It was neither important or relevant.” He hears Deceit hiss.

 “You… Logan, you were nearly unconscious in the bathroom. You were burning up, you’ve been asleep or out of it for two days, how is that not important or relevant?” his voice is incredulous, and Logan looks up, puzzled.

 “it is as you said. Any work I do the others immediately undo, anyways. My purpose is irrelevant. I am irrelevant. Being ill and out of commission for two days is of no consequence. It did not affect Thomas, correct?” he asks, bewildered at the soft horror on Deceit's face.

 “No. That’s not true, Logan. I should know. It’s not nothing, not irrelevant. You scared us half to death. We need you. We love you.” He crumbles at the honesty on Deceit's face, and buries himself back against the side, shaking from the silent sobs.

 “Did they notice? Did they even care? Did... did anyone try and check on me?” He stammers out, knowing the answer from the hesitation in Deceit’s reply. He feels a second pair of arms wrap around him, not Dee’s.

 “I’m gone for five minutes, and you break him!” Remus mutters, practically suffocating him against Deceit’s shirt, but he doesn’t care.

 “not his fault... was already broken.” he chokes out between teary gasps, and Remus hugs him tighter, nestling his head against his neck.

 “You’re perfect. They’re the broken ones, if they can’t see that. If they can’t see how much you care, if they can’t see how hard you work, if they can’t see that you always, always give one hundred percent of yourself in everything that you do. If they don’t care about you as much as you care about them. If they won’t care for you like they should, I’m never letting go of you again. I’m never letting you feel that way again, Logan.” Remus is sniffling too, and Deceit lets out his extra arms, hugging both of them, kissing their heads.

 “Remus is right. You are amazing, Logan. You should be told that more often, be shown that more often. I... you should never think that your existence is meaningless. You mean everything, sweetling.”

 “i want to stay. I want to stay with both of you. I want... I want to be listened to, I want to be heard, I want to be appreciated, I don’t care if it’s selfish to want that, but that’s what I want.” he stammers breathlessly, oddly afraid that they will reject him for speaking his mind. When was the last time he said what he wanted out loud?

 “It’s not selfish to need love and attention. It’s not selfish to work so hard and then want to share it. You can stay, right, Dee? He can stay?” Remus asks, desperation tinging his voice, because he can’t stand it if Logan has to go back and he has to feel all of that all over again.

 “of course he can stay. If you’re sure that’s what you want, Logan. They won’t like it. They may be angry.” He points out. Logan lets out a breathy laugh.

 “If they get angry at me leaving, they should have made it clearer they wanted me so badly. And if they blame you for it, I will quickly dissuade them of that notion. I am sure, Deceit. I know it will change things. I know it will change me. But I am sure.” He feels Deceit smile, pressing his lips to his forehead for a long, endless moment.

 “alright, dearie. I’ll move your room. But later. Right now, you still need rest. I’m not taking a risk with your safety. I don’t know how much it will affect you, and you need to be at full strength before I move it.” His voice is soft and tender, and Remus squeals excitedly, rocking back and forth with Logan on his lap.

 “We can be temporary roomies! I know you probably think I’m a slob, but everything is just as organized as your room! Can’t be storing the spleens with the livers, that just doesn’t work. And, how would I ever tell the blood bags apart if I didn’t sort them properly? I mean, sure, I can taste test, but that’s just a waste of resources if I need to do it every time. And sometimes the positives and negatives are so hard to tell apart, such a nuanced taste.” Remus is surprised as Logan laughs, leaning back against him, looking up at him with teary, happy eyes, a small smile on his lips.

 “I wouldn’t mind that. It does sound like you have some rather fascinating experiments going on. I would love to help you compile your data and take notes. I have a feeling you are more interested in the action than the results.” Remus squeals higher, at a practically inaudible level of joy.

 “HE WANTS TO HELP! DEE, HE DOESN’T THINK I’M GROSS!” Deceit rolls his eyes.

 “So I gathered. I get the feeling you’re going to have a lot of work on your hands, Logan.” He teases gently, Logan’s small smile easing the worry in his chest, untying some of the knots there. He can tell Logan is going to be ok, eventually, now. Remus already adored him, had always loved Logan for never shying away from his thoughts or words, answering all his lewd questions honesty and with thought. Remus would fight tooth and nail to make sure Logan never doubts his worth, never feels unloved. Remus knows well enough how that feels to not wish it on anyone else.

 And he understood Logan, himself. He understood doing hard work and being unappreciated, unwanted, unneeded. He knew how hard it was to bottle that all up, to keep going despite it, to get up day after day when you had no one who cared.

 But they do. And Logan is here now. And Deceit will make sure he is happy and loved and needed and wanted and knows it, no matter what. No matter what Logan does or doesn’t become. He can imagine, what it will be. But he won’t worry now, not when Logan is smiling and happy and snuggling back against his chest, Remus snuggling tight on his other side. He embraces his two boys, gently wiping the tears away from Logan’s face, the side already starting to drift back to sleep, Remus clinging to him, petting his hair as head slumps against Dee’s shoulder.

 “Poor baby, still exhausted. He really needs to eat something, next time he wakes. God knows when the last time he actually slept was.” Deceit murmured, continuing to stroke Logan’s cheek, sensing how badly he needed the contact.

 “He’s coming off it. I think he just needs to sleep off the last of it, and he’ll be alright. He’s already better, Dee. So much better.” Remus answers, and he knows that Remus isn’t just talking about Logan’s illness.

 “Yes. And we will make sure it only continues to get better from here.”