#best supplement for insomnia

[wellsailor]

Revive Daily GH is marketed as a comprehensive sleep support supplement designed to help individuals achieve a more profound and rejuvenating sleep experience. The formula addresses common issues such as difficulty falling asleep, frequent wake-ups during the night, and a lack of overall sleep satisfaction.

[healthmonastery]

Top 5 Natural Sleep Remedies for a Restful Night (Without Counting Sheep!)

Hey there, sleep seekers! Do you ever toss and turn all night, wishing for a magical solution to finally drift off to dreamland? We’ve all been there, but before you reach for the sleeping pills, explore these natural sleep remedies that might just be your ticket to a good night’s rest! xr:d:DAFm0XDXS6w:29,j:9074047633692329058,t:24030107 1. Lavender Love: This calming flower isn’t just…

[mybrainco]

Capsules For Sleep

With Capsules For Sleep from myBrainCo, learn the ultimate cure for insomnia. These ground-breaking pills are carefully designed to address sleep disorders and encourage a night of restful sleepwell-being. These capsules, which are stuffed with organic components renowned for their relaxing effects, work in concert to speed up falling asleep, increase the quality of your sleep, and boost your general wellbeing. Experience the change as you get more restful sleep faster and wake up feeling rejuvenated and ready to take on the day. With Capsules For Sleep by myBrainCo, bid goodbye to restless evenings and welcome the peace of restful, revitalizing sleep. Here is where your journey to a rested life begins.

[diejager]

Omfg pervy roommate König!!! And his poor little roommate is none the wiser to how he abuses her poor cunt every night. He does such a good job fucking his load into her that she confides in him as a friend that she’s pregnant and is super shocked!! But that’s okay, he’ll always be there for her. Now she’ll never be able to leave him. <3

Cw: forced pregnancy, NON-CON/CUB-CON, DARKFIC, pervy!önig, perverted behaviour, somnophilia, dacryphilia, breeding kink, possessive behaviour, pregnancy, drugging, tell me if I missed any.

You’re blissfully unaware of his advances, or his nightly excursions into, pumping his cum into your already filled womb and putting a baby into you. He liked how disoriented and confused you look the day after, waking up pantieless, your bedsheets crusty and dried cum sticking to your thighs. You always come to him for advice, wanting to know why you came all over yourself, leaving you covered in your own slick and cheeks burning with shame when you told him, oblivious of his gleeful eyes narrowed down at you with a hidden grin.

It goes on for a while, he feeds sleeping pills - the ones from his prescribed-bottle for his insomnia - breaking half a pill down to a fine powder and spike your bedtime drink, waiting for you to doze off, sleeping so deeply that even an earthquake wouldn’t wake you up, and he fucks you. He, sometimes, takes his time, thrusting slowly, enjoying the slow and romantic pace, feeling you wrapped around him. Other times, he goes feral, pounding and bruising you, hands manhandling you into the prettiest position to let him fuck you deeper, the head of his red, angry cock kissing your cervix brutally.

You don’t take pills or any contraceptives, letting your monthly cycle roll over and deal with the cramps with painkillers. So he’s not surprised when you come crying to him about being pregnant after going to see your doctor about your daily nausea and stomach pains. He expected you to be pregnant after so many nights of filling you up, pushing load after load of fertile cum - he takes supplements to make him more virile - into your young womb, what he didn’t put into account was the long time it took to finally knock you up, the months he spent waiting and biting the skin off his thumb until it bled to have you round and plump with his child.

You had the prettiest face when you cried, eyes puffy and lips pouty, it made his cock stir, throbbing in his pants. It drove him wild, seeing you cry and whine about not being ready to be a mother, still so young and oblivious to who the father was —you didn’t even remember the last time you fucked anyone. König spent the day comforting you, wiping your swollen eyes with high-quality cashmere tissues he bought just for you, whispering sweet lullabies to you until your tears stop - much to his chagrin - and cradled you in his lap, fingers thumbing the soft fat of your thighs, running soothing circles with his calloused thumb.

He’ll wait until the baby’s born to tell you he’s the father, he might not be patient enough to sit around and wait, but he is patient enough to know when he should and when he shouldn’t wait. He’ll care of you until you come to term. He has the money to buy you whatever you need, KorTac is the best paying PMC and he was a colonel in the past, racking up a large sum of money before he signed a contract. Your cravings, your needs, your wants and whatever else you ask, your roommate - your soon-to-be-husband - König will take care of everything.

What a nice roommate you have, no?

Taglist: @hiraya1802 @tess0288 @elichisstuff @emodanoriddler @kenz-ee @bunnyclaire @akenosimp167 @havoc973 @death8match @yourliebling @allicsirp00 @cross-axis @hereforhotbitches @delulu4ghost @monster-in-paradise @nordicvsp @madi0987 @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @223princess @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly @tuttifuckinfruttifriday

[polarisjisung]

MOTORBIKES & MELATONIN

synopsis: sleep doesn't find you in the comfort of your own home or under the covers tucked safely into your bed— sleep finds you in the warmth of park jisung's arms

wc: 1.1k

pairings: jisung × fem!reader, established relationship

genre: fluff

warnings: insomnia + mentions of using sleeping pills/supplement use of the word drug (literally once), speeding (follow the speed limit 🙏)

notes: emosung brainrot is in full swing (though there's not a lot of emosung mentioned) mostly self indulgent so probably not my best work since I was all up in my head but 🤷‍♀️

you're laying on your bed, aimlessly bouncing the soft tennis ball in your hand against the empty space of the wall just above your headboard. sleep never came easy to you and tonight is no different.

you'd tried it all, counting sheep, drinking warm milk, even meditation but nothing ever worked. instead you spent nights tossing and turning restlessly despite being tucked into the warm covers of your bed, chasing sleep.

just as you reach for the purple bottle that lays next to your bed, ready to pour half the jar of supplements into your hand and gulp them down with a glass of water, you hear it.

your perfect form of melatonin and serotonin mixed in one— your drug, your purpose.

the rumble is distinct. it comes with the soft vibration beneath your feet and the deep reverberation in your ears. the roaring of the v twin engine has you shooting up into a seated position as realisation washes over you

there's a dim red glow cast across your room by the break lights as you grab the loose fit leather jacket that rests over the back of your study chair. the woody oriental cologne still lingers through its material as you place it over your shoulders and run out of the front door.

there he is, helmet gripped loosely in his left hand, his right arm open and ready to welcome you into his embrace.

jisung's black hair flows in the wind, his forehead on show— paired with the soft smile he flashes you, you can't help but think he looks perfect.

"didn't even give me a chance to sneak into your room" he sulks taking you in between his arms, giving you a quick spin as he presses a soft kiss to your forehead

"can't blame a girl for wanting to see her boyfriend" you sigh, taking in his warmth with a smile

"yeah?" he pulls back to get a better view of your face, "miss me that much angel?"

"you know it sung"

his laugh is deep yet gentle, eyes sparkling at the sight of you

"well I'm here now"

jisung takes a quick step around you, his touch feather light as he gathers your open hair into a low ponytail, reaching for the hair tie on his wrist to tie it back

"too tight?" he says, voice full of worry and concern— when you shake your head he smiles, placing his helmet over your head

you wonder how people could ever think jisung was anything but the sweet, kind and warm hearted lover you knew, who wouldn't dare let you move an inch to do something he could do for you, like how he gently takes ahold of you in his arms and places you onto the seat of his bike, eventually taking your arms and wrapping them around his waist

"hold on tight" he whispers in that caring tone of his, that's reserved solely for you, ready to whisk you away for the night and you do just that, gripping his waist securely, but not before lifting his visor and pressing a quick kiss to his temple

jisung drives off, wordlessly but with a smile that speaks volumes

there's a warmth that radiates from jisung's body, the only thing keeping you from freezing as the wind rushes past you, blowing with harsh whistles, tyres screeching against the ground as he takes sharp turns through the streets leading towards the countryside

you'd snuck out before, driven way too far over the speed limit, done countless things that would define your reckless youth and yet nothing had your veins coursing with quite so much adrenaline as this, driving way too far, way too fast, with jisung, the person you loved way too much

like always, you find yourself in jisung's lap, god forbid he let you sit on the grass, wet from the fresh morning dew that rests over it, warm hues of orange and light pinks taking over the sky as you hold one another close, the wind still blowing strong gusts your way, your hair blowing in your face until jisung decides to take it between his fingers and hold it back in his palm

"I like this" you whisper, just loud enough that jisung hears it, his lip rising just enough for his teeth to come on show

"I like you" he responds, watching the warm glow of the sun reaching over the horizon through your eyes

"you do?" you smile, wider than you previously had been, it's a smile that reaches your eyes and jisung's unwavering gaze grows brighter at the realisation

"you're my girl, of course I do"

this time it's his turn to press a quick kiss to your forehead, but jisung's greedy, especially so when it comes to you and he can't help but want more, honey brown eyes resting on your lips

"give me a kiss and I think I'll love you forever" you can't help but giggle at the tickling feeling of jisung's hair against your neck as he pouts up at you

"yeah? didn't know my boyfriend needed kisses to do that" you tease with a roll of your eyes

"didn't know your what?" he asks, and you know exactly what jisung's doing, so you whisper the answer with nothing more than a shy smile straight into his ear

"my boyfriend"

"present" jisungs hand is raised and his voice is confident when he looks at you again, it's like he's begging you to tug at his shirt and crash your lips against his, and who were you to say no to him

"you're so cute" you let out between kisses, the bridge of your nose resting against jisung's, who now wears a look of faux offence

"yeah?" he asks, hoping you'll change your mind, though you don't let up, reaching out to ruffle his black hair "only for you"

somewhere between the late hours of the night and the early hours of dawn, between the quietus of your bedroom and the roar of his engine, between gazing up at the stars and watching the sunrise by the harbour— jisung hears your soft snores replace the quiet whispers of awe you once breathed out.

despite it all, jisung's smile remains all the same, radiant, warm and masked by the matte black helmet resting atop his head

[zepskies]

Lost on You - Part 5

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Supe!Reader

Summary: 1983 is a big year for you. You’re finally chosen to join the ranks of Payback, led by the most (in)famous supe in the world: Soldier Boy. He’ll never admit that he’s trying his damndest to figure you out. You’ll never admit that he’s actually growing on you. But the problem with this game is deciding who’s the predator, and who is prey.

AN: We’re going deeper and darker on this one, with an ending you might not expect...

Word Count: 5.5K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. TW: attempted sexual assault (not successful), violence, character death, drug use, and a twist.

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Part 5: Eminence Front

Your last conversation with your mother was on a Sunday morning, in hospice.

You sat at her bedside and held her hand. Chris and your father were downstairs in the hospital food court, ordering sandwiches. You hadn’t had much of an appetite for three days.

“I had your father call the whole family so they could watch the music video with you and Soldier Boy,” your mom said. She wore a proud, if weak smile. “He even recorded a few tapes of it. He sent one to your aunt, another to your cousins, and another to our friends Leah and Stan.”

“Pretty sure that’s illegal piracy, Mom,” you said with a laugh.

“I don’t care. You’re my daughter, and you’ve worked incredibly hard to get here,” she said. Her eyes misted over a bit in memory. “We’ve all worked hard.”

You stilled at that. You didn’t know what memories she had filtering through her head, but you were sure your perspective behind the lens was…different.

In your mind’s eye, you saw yourself at twelve years old. Chris had been pestering you all day, as big brothers were wont to do sometimes. With a slap on his arm, you’d screamed at him to leave you alone.

He didn’t speak to you for a whole month. He didn’t go to your piano recital or your choir concert, where you had the best solo. He didn’t talk to you until you touched him again, grabbing his arm, pleading with him.

"Please, whatever I did, I'm sorry. Just talk to me!"

He startled as if he’d woken up from a dream.

Your parents had shared a look, and they’d known then that their gamble had worked.

You remembered being sat down by your mother and told that they had spent their entire life’s savings to make you a hero. So you were going to spend the rest of your young life training to be one.

“We’re investing in your future, but we’re also investing in ours.”

You remembered sleepover invites rejected and summer plans canceled on your behalf. Your mother used her meager retirement fund to sign you up for vocal lessons from a former opera singer. Your high school football coach father drilled you to condition your body like an athlete.

You never had a moment that wasn’t scheduled. You were always exhausted, taking whatever “supplements” your parents gave you to keep you going. (Often it was Adderall, until it started giving you insomnia, among other delightful side effects.)

You were miserable. Then again, you’d be surprised by what you could get used to.

The end goal was always getting into Payback. It was where you’d garner the most fame and make the most money, and therefore, make the most returns on your parents’ investments.

So your father later took out a loan to get you some basic combat training from an ex-Vought employee. Your parents wanted you to be well-rounded and prepared for anything when you got onto the team—and it was always when.

If was not part of the story.

Any small commercials and modelling gigs you landed throughout middle school and high school helped pay for your family’s bills, and later for college, where you double majored in Vocal Performance and Marketing. You would learn how to become your own brand.

Through it all, you always remembered what your mom had said to you on the set of your first commercial. You were crying because the hours were long and you missed your friends, and even your brother.

“Come on, let’s wipe those tears. You don’t want to smudge your makeup,” she’d said. When you couldn’t be consoled, she guided you over to a quieter corner of the set. “Listen, sweetheart. Don’t let them see you upset. You'll get a reputation for being difficult to work with.”

“I don’t care! I don’t want to do this anymore,” you said, sniffling badly as you scrubbed at your eyes. Your mother sighed sharply.

“You’re just starting out. Of course there are going to be growing pains,” she said. “Showbusiness is a cutthroat world, and yes, you’re so young. Maybe too young.”

She wiped your face with gentler hands, then she laid them on your shoulders and made sure you met her eyes.

“But you’re going to be better prepared than most superheroes. You can literally read men. You know what’s in their hearts, and you can control them. As a woman in this world, do you know how damn powerful that is?” she said.

She squeezed your shoulders.

“That’s why you’ll be smarter than any of them, and you’ll only show the world what you want them to see.”

What you want them to see…

“We don’t have to talk about that right now,” you said at last.

Your mom nodded and stroked your hand. Her eyes fell closed in rest. She looked so small and frail in her bed.

“I’m so, so proud of you,” she said. “Always remember that.”

Your lower lip trembled, and your eyes stung. You couldn’t help but feel hollow. What was there to be proud of? You’d failed. All your hard work was meant to give your family a better life, not…this.

“You’re so beautiful and talented,” she continued. “And you’ll get your father out from under these medical bills I put on him, won’t you?”

Deep in your soul, a painful ache twinged.

You ignored it and nodded in agreement.

“I’ll take care of Dad, don’t worry.”

Your mother died the next morning. You wrote a statement about her passing to explain your absence to your fans. It went through Madelyn Stillwell and Arthur before they released the press release and even had it covered in Vought News. Then you spent the next week entrenched in funeral arrangements with your father and brother.

When you eventually returned to Vought Tower after the funeral, it felt like another part of you had chipped off.

Your room was filled with flowers and gifts from your fans, which managed to make you wide-eyed, and even tearfully touched. So this was the power of fame, then?

But there was one vase filled with beautiful scarlet roses. Attatched was a handwritten note:

Welcome home.

You thought you recognized the scrawl. A small smile graced your lips.

You gave into the desire to venture up to the penthouse floor, and knock on Ben’s door. He opened it himself. He was dressed down for once in the afternoon, in a normal sweater rolled up to his elbows and tucked into his slacks. Once he saw you, he was a little surprised.

You held up the note for his view. “Was this you?”

He smiled slightly, but he didn’t answer you. He just welcomed you inside. You followed him into the living room area and sat heavily on the couch. An album was playing on his record player. You recognized Sinatra’s smooth voice singing “My Way.”

“You want a drink?” Ben asked.

“Whiskey, neat,” you replied. He rose a brow, but he fulfilled your request.

While he was busy, you grabbed his forgotten half a blunt from the ashtray on the coffee table, and you lit up. You didn’t often partake in drugs because you didn’t like being out of your lucid mind. You preferred being in control.

Today was different. You needed a distraction. Maybe that was why you were here to begin with.

You accepted the glass he handed to you and took a generous sip, though you coughed at the burn on the way down. And you took a puff, the smoke irritating your throat even more. You practically coughed up half a lung, until he sat down beside you and reached out his hand. You passed the blunt back to him. You two traded off hits until it was more than halfway down to the roach, and he eventually put it out on the ashtray.

“My offer still stands, you know,” he said.

You turned to him. Even in your “enlightened” state, you could feel his intentions. The way he roamed your body with his eyes was unmistakable, but just then, you had a moment of clarity. You couldn’t be bothered to play this game, or hide your true thoughts for that matter. You smiled to yourself, and you stood.

Ben got up with you, trying to gauge your reaction.

“Thank you,” you said, “for finally showing me who you really are.”

His lips slowly pulled into a frown. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“My mom died,” you said. “I know you knew that, but you couldn’t even muster up a basic ‘I’m sorry for your loss,’ or whatever the fuck.”

You even laughed through the spark of tears. You wiped at your face. “This place is exactly what I thought it would be.”

The man was silent while you finished the drink in one long gulp. You slammed the glass on his counter, and you left his apartment.

It wasn’t the first time Ben watched you walk away from him, but despite his outward stoicism, it was the first time he felt the sting of it.

You knew it would be difficult at Vought, but you were finding it more and more challenging to keep focused as the months went by.

On one mission, Ben threw a man out of a three-story apartment. He lived, by some miracle, but shattered almost every bone in his body.

On another, Black Noir choke-slammed an escaped convict so hard, her esophagus caved in. And it was a good day if the TNT Twins even zapped the right culprit.

You were increasingly wary of the collateral damage and violence you were being complicit in, just by being there. You had to keep reminding yourself of why you were here. You needed to take care of your father, who was still swimming in your mother’s medical bills and funeral costs. You needed to prove to yourself that you could do this, with or without Ben’s help.

Even so, a day you were called to a full team mission made you more anxious than excited.

It was a drug ring that the police had been trying to dismantle for nearly a decade: Los Reyes. They were the "kings of cocaine," and they were brutal in their retaliations, locked in a turf war with one of the Italian mafias. As Stan Edgar had explained, the police were grateful for any help that Payback could provide.

You guys were sent to a warehouse in Hell’s Kitchen. According to law enforcement intel, it was the base of the Reyes gang's operations.

Infiltrating it was the easy part. Countess blasted right through the front doors, revealing your entire team to the group of men huddled around entire tables and crates filled with product.

When a man aimed a gun at you, Ben threw his shield. It hit the man, who then crashed into a support beam and broke his back in half. Your eyes went wide in horror at seeing his lifeless ones. You gaped up at Ben.

“Was that really necessary?” you asked in alarm.

"Would you rather get shot?” he said coolly.

The others picked off a few men in the room, but the rest of the gang scattered into other rooms within the large building. Ben barked commands for who should go in which direction.

“Sirena, you’re with Swatto. Head east towards the alley and cut off any rats,” he commanded.

You wanted to take issue with being partnered with Swatto. You glanced over at him. After how you compelled him a few months ago, he still had a grudge against you as well. But you two knew better than to argue with Soldier Boy on a mission.

You and your partner ducked out the east side into the alley. Sure enough, you saw blood splatters on the wall from a handprint, and drips of blood leading down the concrete path. After sharing a nod, you and Swatto followed the line of blood.

You turned the corner into a dusty construction site, where a new skyscraper was only partially built. Some walls were up along with the foundation, but it was mostly dirt, bare concrete walls, and piles of brick.

When you turned a corner, you and Swatto stopped short as bullets rained your way.

“Oh, fuck!” Swatto shouted. He pulled out his gun and decided to fly above. You heard more shots and men screaming, and then, it was quiet. You cocked your own gun, though you hoped you didn’t have to use it. The problem with your powers was you needed to be close enough to touch someone to actually compel them, man or woman.

Your last resort was your actual siren song, a power you rarely used. Mainly because it was lethal to any man who heard it. For that reason, it had to be your in case of emergency break glass tactic.

So you crept around the corner to see what Swatto had done. You were surprised to find that he fought well. He managed to kill a few of them, but one large man was still alive. He was on his knees in the dirt with his hands folded behind his head.

“See? Ain’t so fuckin’ tough now, huh?” Swatto taunted. “Get ready to get fucked in the ass in jail, Paco.”

You grimaced in disgust. “All right, that’s enough. Just—”

Before you could realize what was happening, the man raised up from the ground and swept the gun from Swatto’s hands. It flew across the clearing and hit the wall, setting the gun off. A bullet ricocheted and grazed Swatto in the side. 

“Aw, fuck! I’m fucking hit!” he yelled in alarm. His wings expanded from his back, and he raised off the ground in flight. Your eyes widened.

“Where the hell are you going?” you shouted.

“I’m hit! I need a hospital!” His voice grew smaller as he flew away like a fucking coward.

It left you alone with a man twice your size. He seized you up with a smirk.

“Hey, baby,” he said. “You’re the new one, right?”

You raised your gun and fired, but you were too late. He evaded and grabbed the gun from your hands. You held your ground after the first punch, but the second and third made your legs shake. You were more durable than the average human, and you were well trained. Unfortunately, you didn’t have super strength like most of your teammates.

You blocked when you could and gave blows of your own, but this man was large enough that it didn’t slow him for long. He wore a sweatshirt with long sleeves, so you couldn’t easily compel him with a touch.

Okay, this warrants an emergency, you thought in alarm. When you opened your mouth to sing, he shot out a sharp blow to your throat. Maybe he thought you were going to scream for help, but it had its intended effect of choking you into silence.

He grabbed you and proceeded to beat you down, until you felt the sharp breaking of ribs and blood and dirt in your mouth. Every time you tried to slip away or get to your feet and escape, he knocked you back down. He was toying with you, and having fun with it too. You could sense his sick enjoyment.

But then, you felt his intentions shift. Darker, and more carnal. A more intense fear coiled in your stomach, rising up into your throat. A gasp got stuck there as you tried harder to crawl away.

He grabbed your ankle and dragged you back towards him. He took your wrists when you tried to claw at his eyes, or even just touch his face to try and enforce your power over his.

Just a scrap of skin. That’s all you need.

A whimper escaped you as you struggled, but you kneed him hard between the legs. That managed to stop him for a moment as he grunted and cursed. He got a hold of a meaty hand around your neck. Your eyes glowed in desperation.

Suddenly, the man’s weight lifted off you.

You panted for breath and raised yourself up on your elbow. You watched with wide eyes as Ben slammed your attacker’s face into the dirt until he couldn’t breathe. Ben glanced at you, taking in the sight of your bloody face and cut lip, your arm wrapped around your battered ribs.

His frown deepening in displeasure, he bent the man’s arm until it broke in at least two places. His howls of pain echoed into the night. Ben cut it off by twisting the man’s neck, until it released a loud crack.

He threw the body to the ground in disgust. He barely even wiped his gloves before he stood straighter. Then he went back to you.

“You all right?” he asked gruffly.

You stared up at him with tears shining in your eyes. You tried to answer, but it hurt your throat. It was also painful for you to move your body. You tasted blood in your mouth and knew it had dribbled down your chin.

With a rough exhale through his nose, Ben lowered down and slid his hands underneath your body. You cringed and cried out when he moved you, but you were grateful. You were embarrassed. And you were exhausted.

Tears streamed down your cheeks as you folded your arms over your battered middle. You couldn't help but lay your head against his chest.

The rest of the team was waiting at the other end of the clearing, except for Swatto. Even Countess was quiet as she watched Ben carry you out of the construction site.

You spent a couple of days in the hospital. There you were surrounded by Vought security fielding off any journalists or tabloids, and you were accompanied by your dad and brother.

Chris especially was angry for you, not to mention worried, but you tried to hide your pain and reassure them that you would be okay. This was just par for the course when taking down the bad guys.

Yeah, that one sounded hollow, even to you.

You were grateful when you got out of the hospital and were sent back to the Tower. Even so, the doctor had you mostly on bedrest until your ribs healed up. You weren’t proud of it, but you wallowed in your embarrassment and a bit of self-pity while you watched a marathon of Cheers and ate from a box of assorted chocolates. You dug around for your favorites, but you kept getting the weird shitty filling ones.

“Sometimes you wanna go where everybody knows your name, and they’re always glad you came,” sang the TV show theme song. “You wanna be where you can see, our troubles are all the same. You wanna be where everybody knows your name…” 

“Bullshit,” you muttered aloud. Such was your grouchiness that you had half a mind to change the channel. This godforsaken sitcom was too damn cheery, no matter how much you loved Ted Danson’s fine, rugged ass.

God. Maybe I do have a type.

That was when a knock at the door threatened to disrupt your solitude.

“Who is it?”

“It’s me.”

You’d now recognize that smooth, deep voice anywhere. Sighing, you closed the box of chocolates and hid them under your pillow before you turned off the TV.

“Come in,” you said.

Ben stepped into your apartment and soon found you in your room. It was the first time he’d ever been in here, and he took a subtle look around. He wore his suit and tactical gear.

“Just come from a mission?” you asked.

He nodded and approached your bed. He smiled slightly.

“Eating your feelings in Whitman’s, huh?” he teased, tapping his nose. He could probably smell the chocolate.

You blushed and crossed your arms on reflex, but you grimaced when the motion made your ribs twinge sharply. You made a sound of discomfort and lowered your arms back to your sides. You shifted in the bed as slowly as you could. You’d been in this position for a while.

“How’re you holding up?” he asked.

“Oh, I’m peachy,” you groused. When you looked up at him though, you realized that he hadn't needed to come visit you. He was here of his own free will…and there was something you had yet to say to him. You sighed and met him with sincerity.

“Look…thank you, for saving me,” you said.

Ben inclined his head. He lowered down and sat beside you on the edge of your bed.

“You may not like how I run things here, but this is the way of it,” he said, holding your gaze. “This is the real fucking world. If you’re going to stay here, you need to get with that program, or this place is going to chew you up and spit you out.”

That fell between you two for a moment. The more you turned his words over in your mind, the more you realized that he was right, to a point. If you stayed, this was your life. You couldn’t keep handwringing. You had to be smarter.

“I’m sorry, I’m not looking very camera ready,” you said eventually. You meant it to be joking, but your voice was heavy. “I wouldn’t blame you for averting your eyes.”

You half expected him to make a joke about your black eye and torn lip. But to your surprise, Ben picked up your hand with a kind of gentleness. He raised the back of it up to his lips for a kiss. He gave you a reserved smile.

“Rest up,” he said.

He got up and strode out of your apartment. Not for the first time, he left you feeling unbalanced…and this time warm.

It took a few weeks for you to fully heal. You agreed to do an interview with Jason Carver, the anchor of Vought News. It was a bit intimidating being in yet another studio, and this was live.

The cameras aren’t there. This is just a stage like any other. You’re just…having a conversation, you coached yourself. You sat in an uncomfortable leather chair across from Jason at his desk.

When he got the green light from the producer, he kicked off the show by introducing you as his special guest.

“Can I just say, Sirena, we’re all very glad to see you’re all right,” he said, with a very convincing note of sincerity. Your abilities allowed you to read the truth.

Only show them what you want them to see.

You gave him a grateful smile.  

“Thanks, Jason. I appreciate that. It’s just…hazards of the job description, you know?” you said. “But I’m doing much better, and I’m very thankful that my team was there to support me.”

“Yes, the rest of Payback really stepped up to not only apprehend your attacker, but round up the entire Reyes gang. Is that right?” he said.

You nodded, reading the teleprompter. You were meant to go on a mini monologue about how great your team was, and how grateful you were to be a part of it. It was a script approved by Madelyn, and even Stan Edgar.

You paused, glancing over to where Arthur and Madelyn stood in the dark with the rest of the crew. They were both looking at you encouragingly, but expectant.

You took a steadying breath, and you decided to go a bit off-script.

“Well, actually, it was Soldier Boy who saved me,” you said. Jason’s brows rose at your shift in direction, but he reacted with all due interest.

“Really?” he prodded.

“Yes, he did,” you said. The memories of that night filtered through your mind with harrowing detail, including the way Ben stepped in and brutally handled that man. “He didn’t even hesitate. He just threw himself into the fray…and when it was over, he carried me to the hospital himself.”

That part wasn’t exactly true. He’d carried you over to a Vought-owned SUV, and the director of the camera crew drove you over to the hospital. You decided to gloss over that detail, and many others.

“Wow,” Jason said. He shook his head in wonder. “He truly lives up to the legend, doesn’t he?”

You smiled. “He’s more than that. Believe it or not, Soldier Boy was the first one to take me under his wing. He knew I was new to the city, so he guided me all over New York to see the sights like a tourist. Stuff I’m sure he’s seen millions of times, like Top of the Rock and Times Square. Oh, and he was also very gracious when my nephew came to visit. Got me some major brownie points for ‘Best Aunt in the World.’”

That earned you a congenial smile from your host. Your expression faded with a kind of weight in your heart.

“Ever since I got here, he’s been the one to tell it like it is, with that deep, authoritative voice of his,” you said, laughing a little when you tried to imitate Ben’s voice. It got you a laugh, even from those in the studio. “In a way, he’s the one who’s looked out for me the most. I’m very grateful for Soldier Boy, and of course for the rest of my team.”

When you finished, Jason nodded and clapped along with everyone else in the studio.

“Well, that’s just wonderful. Well said,” he said, and he looked straight into the camera with two fingers poised at his temple. “Soldier Boy, if you’re watching, we all appreciate you. And we salute you.”

Ben watched the clip from his living room with a small, incredulous smile on his face.

He wiped the remnants of white powder from his nose and sneezed. Blinking the bleariness out of his eyes, he refocused on the screen while you talked about him. He knew you had to be playing it up for Jason and the cameras, but you also seemed so sincere.

“He’s more than that.”

After the segment was over, he enjoyed the climax of his high while sitting back on his plush sofa. He tossed up an old baseball from his collection up towards the ceiling, this one signed by Babe Ruth. He caught it when gravity pulled it back down towards his face.

That was how Donna found him when she let herself into his apartment. She was out of her suit and wearing a little red dress, one of his old favorites. She graced him with a sultry smile.

“Busy?” she asked.

“Evidently,” he said.

She pouted, almost like a little girl. She went to him and curled herself under his arm and against his chest, draping a smooth thigh over his.

“I miss you,” she purred.

He smiled wryly and turned off the TV.

“Really now?” he drawled. “Because by my calculations it’s been…what, a few months since we’ve fucked?”

Donna paused, the smile slipping from her face.

“And I’m not counting that hand job a couple weeks back. That shit was pitiful, and a little chafing,” he said.

For the past few months, he’d been wracking his brain to remember what it was that had attracted him to this woman, besides the obvious outer packaging. He knew the difference now.

In the beginning, she idolized him. Worshipped him. Loved him. These days, she only came to him when she wanted something, and he had gotten bored. Bored of her.

As if sensing his shift, Donna moved her leg off his lap and sat up with a frown.

“Well, then let me fix it,” she said, as she slid a hand up his thigh. Suddenly she was all too willing to use those red-painted lips to service him. 

Ben couldn’t help but envision those lips as yours, a sinful red, while your mouth did sinful things. He’d gotten off more than once to the thought of it alone, ever since he shot that goddamn music video with you.

So he grabbed Donna’s wandering hand and looked at her coolly.

“Look, for whatever reason, I know you’re not happy,” he said, waving dismissively with his other hand. “Neither of us are. So let’s just stop wasting time.”

Her eyes widened. “What’re you saying?”

Ben’s brows furrowed. “Am I speaking fucking English? It’s time to call it quits, sweetheart.”

Donna’s jaw worked as she fought to keep herself under control. He had a feeling she’d be angry. She always was a little spitfire.

Her body was coiled like a spring when she withdrew her hand from his and got to her feet. She gave him an icy look.

“This isn’t going to last,” she claimed, with a prideful tilt of her chin. “In a month, a week, you’ll get tired of her. And you’ll remember that I’m the one who looks best by your side.”

Ben huffed in amusement before he laid back again. He continued to toss up his baseball.

“Keep telling yourself that,” he said dismissively. 

Donna let loose an aggravated breath, but she kept most of her reaction inside. She turned on her heel, prideful as ever, and left his apartment.

When her fingers landed on the doorknob, however, she turned back for just a moment. Silence greeted her.

It wasn’t until then that her tears finally bubbled over.

Days later, a knock on your door drew your attention out of pulling on some jeans. You were intending to go on a walk through the city, take some time to get out of the Tower and just be you for a change.

That had better not be Madelyn at the door again. She had chastised you for going off-script at the studio twice already. She made the point that she and Stan had gone over those talking points for weeks, and agreed that framing your rescue as a team effort would cover Swatto as well.

He was still laid up with a broken leg, long after the scrape of the bullet had healed. He was tight-lipped about how he’d broken said leg, but you’d heard from Tommy that he’d shattered it…somehow.

Arthur had smoothed things over about your adlib though. He pointed out that talking positively about Soldier Boy helped the whole team. He was the leader, after all.

So yeah, you hoped this visit wasn’t another passive aggressive dress down from the head of PR. You sighed and went over to get the door. You were thoroughly surprised to see Ben.

And a Ben that was wearing a regular suit, for that matter. He looked like he’d stepped out of a Hugo Boss catalogue, steeped in charcoal gray with a long black coat draped over his arm. Your mouth parted in soft shock, especially when he produced a single rose from behind his back.

You took it with tentative fingers and a blush rising hotly in your cheeks.

“Okay, what—”

“Let me take you out,” he said. “One night. You’ll get to see what it’s like to be with the most famous man in the world.”

What an opening line that was. You sensed he was in full Charm City mode, complete with a suave smile. Yours was more amused, even though you twisted the flower's soft petals lightly on your chin in contemplation.

After a few seconds to think, you gave him a patient look.

“Ben, nothing’s changed for me. I told you, I–”

“Countess and I are done, for real this time,” he said.

Once again, you were taken by surprise—mostly because he was telling the truth. You felt it.

Your brows knitted together in confusion. “When did this happen?”

“Recently,” he shrugged. “But like I said, it hasn’t been working for a while. It was a mutual thing.”

You weren’t so sure about that, but… 

This is what I wanted, you reminded yourself. In fact, it had been half what you’d hoped for when you went off-script. You just couldn’t believe it had worked this well, so soon. As much as you probably shouldn’t, part of you began to feel bad for manipulating him. For lying to him.

But it’ll be good for my career.

“…Okay,” you agreed, glancing down at your plain shirt and jeans. “Just give me some time to change.”

He raised a brow. “How much time?”

You gave him a slightly cheeky smile. “An hour, and I’ll meet you in the lobby.”

He sighed, but he agreed.

“Just don’t keep me waiting all fucking day,” he said.

“Come on. What’s a little delayed gratification?” you teased. Then you gave him a more sincere smile. “I’ll see you later.”

Ben nodded, with some added charm in the look he gave you in return.

You slipped back into your apartment and shut the door. You paused there when a thought struck you.

Shit, now what am I going to wear?

AN: Did you see that one coming?

A lot of darker angst and drama in this one, sorry for that. But I think you may like what's coming up...

Next Time:

You slid your hand over his on the table. You felt him stiffen slightly, his body tensing up at your touch. You frowned when you saw the glint of wariness cross his face.

“I won’t compel you again, Ben. I promise,” you said. As long as you don’t give me a reason to.

Your hand traveled up his arm, soothing along his neck, your palm finally resting against his cheek. His green eyes stared into yours.

Soon enough, his wariness bled away into desire.

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 6

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[pixelyssa]

★彡 reanswering an old ask below:

as a high r3str1cter here’s what i do:

★彡DRY F4ST!NG: 7pm-11am (i have water/meds/gum only if necessary)

It is beneficial when done for 16+ hours. and the best part is we do it in our sleep every night! 

dry means no f00d, no water. since starting this, i’ve noticed less bloating, my “morning sk1nny” lasts longer. i’ve gotten used to my dry f4st times and no longer overe@t at night, which also makes me feel good in the morning. I have acid reflux, and e@ting before bed triggers it. It also triggers, slower met@bolism, difficulty digesting and can disturb your sleep! So even if you aren’t comfortable dry f4sting before bed, atleast not having solid f00ds a couple hours before bed helps, and you will see/feel a difference.

If you tend to get cravings at night, this may be hard at first. here’s how i stopped mine:

(warning, im delulu hehe)

-i always remind myself how i feel after the fact. or the morning after. (guilty, embarrassed, weak) and eventually i was strong enough to let that feeling take over. 

-watch a mukbang or e4ting challenge for the f00d im craving and chugging water until im full lol

-i have insomnia so i have an as needed medication for sleep that knocks me out. if you also struggle to sleep, i def recommend finding ur cure. whether its rain sounds, complete darkness, shutting ur devices off, or melatonin (PRO TIP: do not buy melatonin gummies. Do not consume the 5mg or 10mg or 20mg supplements of melatonin. when our bodies lack melatonin, we only need .5mg MAX, which is sold in pill form or can be prescribed by your doctor! anything higher will just make you immune and it will stop working eventually, it also will make it difficult to get up in the morning.)

★彡COFFEE

-i drink coffee as soon as my dry fast ends. It suppresses my app3t1te for a while and it helps my bowels hehe (i also need the caffeine to get me through the day)

-i HATE black coffee, i prefer brown stevia and a splash of cream/almond milk. but whatever you like!

-i usually have 1-2 cups to start my day. 

-if you don’t like coffee, tea is also good. there are certain types that can do different things for you ofc, i like green tea for the caffeine and metabolism boost (same reason i drink coffee). but i’ve heard good things about ginger tea, mint tea, etc. (if youre a tea person i don’t need to even explain, you know.)

★彡SAVING C4L0RI3S 

-i try save them for the end of the day, that way when its dinner time and i’m hungry, I’m not feeling like i need to find something small to fit the rest of my lim1t. (the coffee helps with this step)

-i stay distracted and i really worked on self discipline to be able to get through this one lol.

★彡CHOOSE FILLING F00DS OVER FILLER F00DS

-for example, 2 oreos and juice is the same amount of c4lories as my chocolate chip pancakes r3cipe. cookies aren’t filling, you’ll just want more. theyre a filler. whereas 3 chocolate chip pancakes with berries and syrup is filling and satisfies the same craving. 

-if you like to use ur c4lories for snacks that’s completely fine, im not judging you <3 it just leads to overe@ting for me.

-i usually have 1 meal and 1-2 snacks throughout the day. I have my google doc link ready to go if anyone 18+ would like to see, comment and let me know youre of age and ill message u it (DONT DM ASKING I WONT SEE IT) <3

★彡M3TABOLISM DAYS

-by now you’ve probably heard the term “meta” or “metab” day. most people will do this once a week, it is basically where you spike your l1mit for the day. constantly lowering your intake will slow your metabolism and eventually you’ll start maintaining, or plateauing. This is to help boost your metab! Its also good for holidays, or days where you have plans involving f00d. It’s hard at first, but if you’ve been stuck at the same w3ight, its good to start doing this. 

-i do one once a week, but i’ve seen people do them in 10 day increments or even twice a month.

-a friend of mine told me metabolism days should be -200 of your bmr (you can calculate your bmr online) that would make my metab day l1mit around 800-900 c@l. (which is 300+ higher than my normal limit, incase you want to just add to your current intake instead of calculating your bmr) it should be a close to a “normal” l1mit. 

-there are chances of g4ining, of course, from metab days. don’t shy away from it if you feel too scared to g4in, this was my mistake and i was stuck at 102 for WAY TOO LONG. metab helped me break 100, and now im almost at my next goal. Metabolism days are for everyone, it’s not just sk1nny people who plateau and demolish their metabolisms. try it out, its a nice treat <3

★彡WATER INTAKE & VITAMINS

we should be drinking over 2L of water a day (you can google and calculate your specific amount needed per day, im just a girl) 

-drink your necessary amount THROUGHOUT THE DAY. it is sm water to have in one sitting so the only possible way to get it all in is to have it all day. tt’ll make you feel better too.

-this is something i struggle with, i just don’t enjoy water. I’m on and off with when i enjoy it and when i can’t get myself to drink it. If anyone else struggles, i’ve realized that ice cold water is easiest for me to drink.

-water gives the illusion of feeling full, it literally keeps you alive, and obviously sm more lol

-i take vitamin d, vitamin c, calcium and a women’s multi vitamin for metabolism every day. the water is important for helping my body absorb these. Look into other vitamins but these are what i take based on my deficiencies. 

-i take gummy vitamins, they have more c4lories than a pill, but its like a sweet treat after my meal so i’ll probably stick to gummies <3 make sure you chew them all the way through if you get these!

★彡IVE BEEN DOING THIS WAY TOO LONG Our b0dies are all different. what works for me might not work for you, and that’s fine, love! I’m sharing what i do because there is a lot of general knowledge in my routines, so i thought i’d share. 

[femmefatalevibe]

Femme Fatale Guide: Best Sleep Hygiene Habits & Tips For Better Sleep

Daytime Habits:

Stop drinking caffeine at least 8 hours before you want to go to sleep

Move daily: A 30-minute walk or a short pilates video is enough if that's all you can manage

Get some fresh air/natural light and/or supplement with vitamin D

Ensure you're getting adequate magnesium and vitamin B12 in your regular diet or through supplements

Nighttime Habits:

Tuck your phone in at its "bedtime": Leave your phone in the charger across the room. Out of sight, out of mind.

Have a physical book beside your bed to start reading at a certain time. Around 30-60 minutes before you actually want to go to bed. Find a book that puts you in a calm mood. A book that's too engaging will be counterproductive.

Have some "sleepytime" tea around 30 minutes before bed (Chamomile tea is a great choice. I love the Yogi Soothing Caramel Bedtime tea).

Limit the lights on for an hour or so before you want to go to bed. Only keep the light on near your bed if possible. Keep your curtains closed if necessary.

Practice deep breathing in bed: You can do a full 5-10 sleep meditation or just do a few sets of belly breaths (one hand on your chest and the other on your diaphragm or upper stomach)

Use meditation or a self-pleasure practice to relax enough to fall asleep.

To get on a proper sleep routine & fight insomnia:

Allow yourself one day to be exhausted, so you go to sleep "on time" and give yourself enough time to get (at least) around 6 hours of sleep. This helps your body "reset," at least for a few days.

When you close your eyes, picture one of your favorite memories and re-experience it without allowing other thoughts to enter your brain. This helps calm your mind, so you more easily drift off to sleep (I've been doing this for around 15-18 years and it's golden)

Have a journal or notebook with a pen by your bed: This allows you to write anything down that you forgot about or need to do, sudden inspiration that arises before you fall asleep, or a place to write out your feelings to help relax before going to sleep. It's better than having your phone and gives you no excuse to go pull it out.

Have a bottle of water by your bed, so you can have a few sips if you can't sleep from being (even a little) dehydrated.

[ellecdc]

The brainrot continues to grow by the minute….so here we are again lovey. After re-reading a lot of your blog last night when the insomnia hit me live laugh love.

I remembered you did a series with poly!moonwater about reader being pregnant and ect. So I was wondering what would be your headcannons for poly wolfstar pregnancy in terms of shy reader/the refugee type character in between gentle yet dominant Remus and loyal, protective, possessive Sirius type vibes.

awwwweeeee yes okay

wolfstar x shy/referee!reader headcanons for their pregnancy

Sirius:

freaks, like, catastrophic level 9 freak out

runs to Effie and Monty sobbing; begging them to help him, begging them to tell him what to do because he can't be like them - he just can't

has to show back up at your shared home a few days later with his tail tucked between his legs at having fled [will explain below in Remus] - sooooo super emotional

spends a lot of time with Effie and Monty - buys a lot of pregnancy, parenting, and baby books

quits his jobs and starts babysitting Harry (wants practice)

becomes a bit of a nuisance for reader; little bit of a coddler, doesn't want reader even walking, won't let her get up to get her own drinks, everyone who comes over has to hand sanitize and show proof that they're healthy ("what do you mean proof!? You want to check my tonsils??" "......yes Prongs, now say ahhh."), starts a sleep schedule for reader - encourages her to take a nap every afternoon

cries a lot lol - both from excitement and nerves

Remus:

he has to become the referee between reader and Sirius

constantly defending Sirius to you when he hovers too much or seems to worried "he just loves you and is trying to do his best, dove", but also has to tell Sirius when he's being too much and to back off "you're going to put her into early labour, Pads."

lets Sirius thinking he's handling everything but really, Remus is the one actually making sure reader is all good and healthy - prenatal vitamins, adds supplements to meals/food for extra nutrients, books all of the OBGYN appointments, tells Sirius that reader "has to walk because it's good for her and baby ffs"

starts visiting his mum and dad for tea more frequently; Hope sends him home every time with more of his old baby clothes, blankets, quilts she's made, his baby pictures, etc etc.

reads baby books as well, but mostly about infant development (wants his baby to be the smartest lol)

plays voice of reason

reader:

far feistier than usual (not her usual shy, placid self)

spends most of her pregnancy handing Sirius' ass to him and he is swooning (might just have to put more babies into her.....)

Remus does take over your role as referee but can't help but admit how much he likes seeing you so passionate

very worried; never saw kids in the cards for these three (Sirius with his family trauma and Remus with his affliction) and I think she'd spend most of her pregnancy sort of waiting for the other shoe to drop......like, maybe today's the day they'll leave? one more emotional breakdown made by her and they're definitely going to pack their bags (which makes her emotional breakdowns worse)

Remus has to take her to the healer for anxiety medication because of it

It makes for a lot of really sweet conversations and moments between the three of them though - the boys reassuring reader and just cuddling for the rest of the day

[mysticheathenn]

What's Missing in Your Life?

Hi, Hexlings!

Remember to take what resonates and leave what does not. This reading does not supplement your need to seek professional help.

Take your time when choosing your pile. Ask yourself the question and choose the picture that you can’t stop looking at. Listen to your intuition.

Patreon Link

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Patreon Extended Reading Includes: (ALL Tiers)

What's missing from your life?

How to change the situation?

Extra Messages

Pile l:

What is your current situation? (Tarot: (All Reversed) Ace of Pentacles, 8 of Pentacles, Quen of Cups, (upright) The Fool, King of Pentacles, 2 of Pentacles)

Right now in your current situation, you lack the discipline that it requires to bring in the things that you want in your life pile 1. For most of you, this is about finances as you have 4 out of 6 pentacle cards. There's something that you keep starting and putting off or not working on altogether some of you may be working on a book, a blog, maybe content creation, freelancing, or even just applying to new jobs but you are only daydreaming about it, and not actually working on those things while others are only doing this sporadically because of lack of balance, discipline, and making nothing but excuses for yourself as to why you either shouldn't do it, don't have the time, or just not having the vision of seeing how instant gratification maybe okay for right now putting in the work to reap the rewards later on is what is going to give you financial stability that you are looking for.

Patreon Extended Reading

Pile ll:

What is your current situation? (Tarot: The Emporer, The World / The Fool (reversed), The Magician, 10 of Wands)

Burnout. You are burned out pile ll. You feel that you have done all that you can...*pauses*...two songs are trying to play in my head at the same time and I see that you are overdoing it. The songs trying to play are "We Fall Down by Donnie McClurkin (Gospel) and Get Up 10 by Cardi B where she discusses how she falls down 9 times but gets up 10. You are trying to work hard on your goals, especially this year. Some of you may have let the past few years go by without putting in the work and now you are on overtime giving me Nanomi from JJK vibes, haha. Some of you may just have it ingrained that you have to work hard to get anything in life "having to work hard to get half of what 'they' have" Maybe even over the past few years people have counted you out and told you that you couldn't do something so you are out to prove everyone who doubted you wrong. It's as if you have reversed FOMO fear of missing out on success. I hate this energy because it reminds me of my days working as a hotel manager making me feel like that scene from Hidden Figures with Taraji where she says "And I work like a dog day and night, living on coffee from a pot none of you want to touch!"

Patreon Extended Reading

Pile lll:

What is your current situation? (Tarot: Ace of Cups, Ace of Swords (reversed), 7 of Swords, King of Wands, 4 of Pentacles.

Indecision, trust, and self-doubt. For whatever reason pile lll your spirit guides are not elaborating on this. It's as if you know what has been causing your emotions to go haywire and what causes you to stay up late at night plagued by insomnia. The things that plague your mind that cause you to self-doubt and be indecisive about what it is in your life and they have had enough of trying to get through or keep reminding you that everything will work out for the best. You know what it is and they don't want to elaborate because a wall is placed as I continue to look at your cards and I'm trying to get something anything from it and nothing just those two words and If you know, you know.

Patreon Extended Reading That's all I have for everyone. I hope you enjoyed this reading. Until next time, stay safe and blessed.

[samstree]

Secret Ingredient

(obikin hurt/comfort, obi-wan makes pancakes, also on AO3)

The bruises look a lot worse in daylight.

The purple and green span across Anakin’s cheek, reaching the small cut at the corner of his lips. Lesions are all over his throat in the shape of fingers, with more hidden under the collar of his tunics. The half-healed wounds don’t just stop there—four weeks of being captive is enough to accumulate injuries to fill an entire page of the healer’s report. Under Anakin’s clothes, his chest is bound in bandages for the broken ribs, right above the electrical burns, now covered in fresh bacta patches. The separatists are getting creative with their torture devices, lately.

Obi-Wan goes through the list of Anakin’s wounds in his head, calculating which ones need to be redressed on what day. The Coruscanti sun casts long shadows, barely hiding the dark circles under Anakin’s eyes.

Obi-Wan aches to kiss, to soothe until Anakin can sleep them away, finally finding some rest after the month’s ordeal. But there’s more work to be done—the torturers did not pay much attention to feeding their captive. Anakin’ cheeks have sunken, the nightshirt hanging off his thinned shoulders. The constant lack of food has weakened his stomach to the point that he can barely keep anything down. For fear of throwing up yet another meal, what he needs right now is something simple, comforting, but also provides plenty of nourishment.

So, Obi-Wan is making his special pancakes.

They may be his best work yet. After all, those special pancakes were Anakin’s favorite food when he was a child. Obi-Wan still remembers a nine-year-old Anakin, malnourished and underweight when he first came to the temple. Master Che had to prescribe different nutritious powders to go along with his meals, but all Obi-Wan knew was to make them into a porridge. The boy could never swallow more than a third of what he needed.

And then, he had the brilliant idea of making them into pancakes.

The batter is the perfect medium to hide all the supplements. Obi-Wan still remembers the quiet smile Anakin gave him at every breakfast, right after finishing everything on his plate. Obi-Wan kept making them until the healers finally declared his padawan to be an appropriate weight and height for his age.

Now, more than a decade later, it’s time for Obi-Wan to use an old trick again.

Even though it’s early morning, Anakin is exhausted enough from insomnia and pain that he doesn’t notice the supplements being added to the sweet pancake mix. He only waits by the kitchen counter as Obi-Wan works, expression distracted and tired, attention splintered all over the place.

Anticipation rises in Obi-Wan’s chest as the kitchen is filled with the smell of warm, buttery pancakes, almost making him giddy with pride. He hides it well though, under a calm, nonchalant exterior.

“Here. Try this,” Obi-Wan says softly, flipping the last pancake into the plate and drizzling with syrup, before pushing it across the kitchen counter.

“Hmm?” Anakin blinks, just brought out of a stupor, looking down to notice the stack of warm pancakes. “Oh.”

“Your stomach is still weak, so I’m only giving you a small portion. Hopefully, some pancakes will go down better than the standard-issued rations from the Halls of the Healing.” Obi-Wan smiles. “I remember it’s your favorite.”

There has been a haunted look in Anakin’s eyes since the rescue, one that is hard to shake. But upon meeting Obi-Wan’s eyes and seeing his smile, part of that look melts away, giving way to the warmth in those blue eyes.

“My favorite, huh? Let’s see if it’s still the case.” He pokes a small corner off the stack and lifts the fork, an eyebrow raised while putting the pancakes in his mouth. The following pause has Obi-Wan’s heart beating in his throat, hope fluttering like the wings of a hummingbird.

“How is it?” he asks, unable to hide the curiosity any longer as Anakin chews slowly, carefully, as if he needs to channel all the energy he has just to eat. “Well, not to rush you. I know you’ve been having trouble keeping food down, and eating too fast won’t help. I just thought—it’s your favorite, after all. If anything, you could use something comforting, and there’s nothing more comforting than pancakes. I haven’t made them for years. Hopefully, it still tastes the same? If not, I can always make something else. Something you’re missing in the field, perhaps Franikhad—oh, but that’s too spicy for your stomach. There’s nothing like pancakes, truly. So… how is it?”

Obi-Wan knows he’s droning on again, as Anakin was so inclined to call it in his teenage years, but truth be told, he’s too nervous not to.

Watching Anakin struggle to recover has been one of the hardest things in this entire ordeal. They’ve got Anakin back now; he should be getting better, not barely healing because his body doesn’t have enough strength. Cooking is about the only thing Obi-Wan can do to help, and he doesn’t know what to do with himself if he fails even that.

He just… he can’t fail again.

Anakin swallows the bite, licks the syrup on his lower lip. By some miracle, he smiles. It’s a small and quiet thing, but it’s there. Obi-Wan thinks he could be soaring.

“It’s good, master,” he answers. “Tastes exactly like I remember.”

“Yeah?” A weight lifts off of Obi-Wan’s chest. “It’s truly the same?”

“Of course, even the powders are there.”

Obi-Wan pauses, blinking as Anakin takes another bite, making a pleased hum.

“Whatever do you mean?” It’s possible that the kitchen has become very warm from all the cooking. Obi-Wan feels his cheeks heat up. “What powders?”

The syrup coats the fork, so Anakin licks it clean. When he looks up again, a glint of mischief flashes across his eyes.

“Oh come on. Do you think I couldn’t tell? The nutrition powders they prescribed for me when I was still your padawan? The porridge you made was awful, and then the pancakes tasted exactly the same. You weren’t subtle, master. There must have been more supplements than flour in my meal. I noticed right away, of course.”

The pancakes are disappearing steadily from Anakin’s plate, picked apart and dipped in the syrup. Suddenly, they don’t seem like the best idea in the world anymore.

“And you never said anything? Anakin…” Obi-Wan’s heart constricts. “I only wanted you to eat something healthy because you were so malnourished as a child, and I didn’t want to force you. Force knows you had gone through enough already.” He meets Anakin’s eyes, half pleading and half heartbroken for the small boy that he used to be. “Why didn’t you tell me? I could have tried something else.”

Guilt creeps into his chest, in place of the relief he was feeling mere moments ago. Anakin only stares, eyes big and impossibly soft.

“Well, it made you happy,” he answers, as if that is the simplest logic in the world. “So I didn’t mind.”

“Anakin…”

“Has it occurred to you that you were also going through a lot?” Anakin now drops his eyes, having stopped eating. “You had only lost your master, and immediately took on a padawan yourself. Every day you fussed over nutrition and proteins. My meals, my lessons, my health. But you…” he trails off in a whisper. “You were just…sad. All the time.”

“I didn’t know you could tell.”

“I can always tell.”

Obi-Wan opens his mouth and closes it. His fame as the Negotiator is nothing when it’s just him and Anakin. Clever quips and quick thinking are his weapons when the saber is out of reach, but here, he doesn’t need to fight.

“So you just lied? For years?” Obi-Wan asks, after a moment. “Putting up with your old master’s horrible cooking just to spare his feelings?”

“Not the part about pancakes being my favorite though. That is true.” When Obi-Wan raises an eyebrow in question, Anakin continues, “I saw you smile, when I ate all the pancakes. That was the first time you smiled since I became your padawan. It was so beautiful I just decided that I wanted to keep seeing it. And the pancakes were the way to go, obviously. Oh, and—” He laughs to himself quietly, looking entirely too young despite the bruises blossoming across his cheeks. Entirely too young for this wretched war. “—Do you remember the day I was finally, finally, taller than you?”

“You mean when you mercilessly rubbed it in my face.” Obi-Wan cannot hide a laugh himself. “The worst day of my life. It’s not one to forget.”

“You are joking, but do you remember I also stopped mercilessly rubbing it in your face very quickly?”

“Oh? Doesn’t sound like you.”

Anakin tilts his head, a strand of curls falling into his eyes, too endearing for Obi-Wan’s heart to handle.

“You were so proud when you realized,” he says softly. “You looked at me, barely half an inch taller than you, and the Force was singing with pride. I couldn’t keep making fun of you, you see. My old master looked like he was about to cry.”

The lump in Obi-Wan’s throat is simply a reaction to the fond memories. He is not about to cry now.

“I thought I did a half-decent job, when you grew up okay. I only wanted you to—” he swallows, the words difficult to get out. “I—forgive me—”

Obi-Wan looks away to give the turmoil of emotions in his chest to the Force. Fear, guilt, anxiety… they leave with another exhale. He lets go of everything except for love. Only love remains, wrapping around him like the bright Force signature that melds into his own.

Anakin looks at him all-knowingly, with mirth by his lips.

“Obi-Wan.”

“Yes, darling?”

The Force sings with pride again when Anakin straightens his back, puts down his fork, one arm stretched out as an invitation. “Come over here.”

“And why should I come over there?”

“Because you,” Anakin declares with all the conviction in the galaxy, “look like you need a hug.”

“Do I now?” Obi-Wan only thinks of denying it for a split second before rounding the kitchen counter and meeting Anakin’s embrace carefully, gathering him up with a feather-light touch. He maps out all the injuries mentally, hyper-aware of where his hands travel and soothe. Something within him shifts, settles into place, when Anakin is held between his arms. “Hmm, perhaps I do. My young padawan has become wise.”

“Only sometimes,” Anakin huffs.

The way he hugs Obi-Wan back is far less careful, pressing their bodies together. With Anakinsat on the kitchen stool, they are at the perfect height for him to fit right under Obi-Wan’s chin. He squeezes Obi-Wan’s middle, as if to burrow farther into the hug, as if they have not melded into one a long time ago.

He presses a kiss on Anakin’s head, hiding a content smile in his hair.

“Ow.” Anakin hisses in pain.

Obi-Wan pulls away immediately. “Am I hurting you?”

A pause, and a sheepish look. “…No?”

“Anakin!”

A boyish grin blooms across Anakin’s face. He leans forward to wrap both arms around Obi-Wan’s waist, half to pull him close, half for support. “Can you blame me? You were smiling. You haven’t since I got back.”

“And you are eating something, finally.”

“Must be the pancakes,” Anakin adds cheekily, “with your secret ingredient.”

The corner of Anakin’s mouth is still swollen and dark with a bruise, but he leans into Obi-Wan’s touch. Eyes closed, he lets his weight slump against Obi-Wan’s support and nuzzles into his chest.

He’s holding the most precious thing in his life, Obi-Wan realizes. Right under his palms, trusting and pliant. Even injured, Anakin is still trying to make him smile, and he is. The smile stays on Obi-Wan’s face, making him feel lighter and younger than he has any right to be.

“And now you feel like you need a kiss,” Anakin whispers against his tunics. “You get all quiet and shimmering in the Force when you do.”

“What will you do about that?”

Their breaths mingle when Obi-Wan lowers his head to meet Anakin. The kiss is barely there when both of them are smiling into it, tender and slow, mindful of the healing wound by Anakin’s mouth. Obi-Wan pecks him on the nose one last time before pulling back.

“You should try to eat a little bit more,” he reminds Anakin, pushing the plate closer. “Just a little, and we’ll rest. We’ve both earned it, I believe.”

“Of course,” Anakin answers, the quiet shimmers mirrored back in his Force signature. “They are your special pancakes, after all.”

[nourishandthrive]

Natural Remedies for Common Ailments

Turning to natural remedies for common ailments can provide relief without relying heavily on medications. Here are some effective and easily accessible natural remedies for everyday health issues.

Headaches

Peppermint Oil: Apply a few drops of diluted peppermint oil to your temples and massage gently. The menthol in peppermint can help relax muscles and alleviate headache pain.

Ginger Tea: Brew fresh ginger slices in hot water and drink. Ginger has anti-inflammatory properties that can help reduce headache severity.

Cold and Flu

Honey and Lemon: Mix a tablespoon of honey with the juice of half a lemon in warm water. This soothing drink can help relieve sore throat and boost your immune system.

Elderberry Syrup: Take elderberry syrup to reduce the duration and severity of cold and flu symptoms. Elderberries are rich in antioxidants and vitamins that support immune health.

Digestive Issues

Peppermint Tea: Drink peppermint tea to relieve symptoms of indigestion, bloating, and gas. Peppermint helps relax the digestive tract muscles.

Apple Cider Vinegar: Mix a tablespoon of apple cider vinegar in a glass of water and drink before meals to aid digestion and reduce heartburn.

Insomnia

Chamomile Tea: Drink a cup of chamomile tea before bedtime. Chamomile has mild sedative properties that can help promote sleep.

Lavender Essential Oil: Add a few drops of lavender essential oil to your pillow or diffuse it in your bedroom to create a calming atmosphere conducive to sleep.

Skin Irritations

Aloe Vera Gel: Apply fresh aloe vera gel to soothe and heal minor burns, sunburns, and skin irritations. Aloe vera has anti-inflammatory and cooling properties.

Oatmeal Bath: Add colloidal oatmeal to a warm bath to relieve itching and irritation from conditions like eczema or rashes.

Muscle Pain

Epsom Salt Bath: Soak in a warm bath with Epsom salts. The magnesium in Epsom salts can help relax muscles and reduce pain.

Arnica Gel: Apply arnica gel topically to sore muscles. Arnica has anti-inflammatory properties that can help reduce muscle soreness and bruising.

Nausea

Ginger: Chew on a small piece of fresh ginger or drink ginger tea. Ginger is known for its anti-nausea properties.

Peppermint: Inhale peppermint oil or sip peppermint tea to help alleviate nausea symptoms.

Allergies

Local Honey: Consume a teaspoon of local honey daily to help build immunity against local pollen and reduce allergy symptoms over time.

Neti Pot: Use a neti pot with a saline solution to rinse nasal passages and reduce congestion caused by allergies.

Cough

Thyme Tea: Brew thyme leaves in hot water and drink. Thyme has antimicrobial and expectorant properties that can help soothe a cough.

Marshmallow Root: Drink marshmallow root tea to coat the throat and relieve irritation from coughing.

Stress and Anxiety

Ashwagandha: Take ashwagandha supplements to help reduce stress and anxiety. Ashwagandha is an adaptogen that supports the body's stress response.

Passionflower: Drink passionflower tea or take supplements to promote relaxation and reduce anxiety levels.

Tips for Using Natural Remedies

Consult a Professional: Always consult with a healthcare provider before starting any new remedy, especially if you have underlying health conditions or are taking other medications.

Quality Matters: Use high-quality, organic products to ensure the best results and avoid harmful additives.

Monitor Reactions: Pay attention to how your body responds to natural remedies and discontinue use if you experience any adverse reactions.

Combine with Healthy Lifestyle: Enhance the effectiveness of natural remedies by maintaining a healthy diet, regular exercise, and adequate sleep.

By incorporating these natural remedies into your routine, you can address common ailments effectively and support your overall health and well-being.

Share your favorite natural remedies in the comments below! Let’s exchange tips and support each other in our journey towards a healthier, more natural lifestyle.

[whitherwanderer]

9 // lend an ear

// 970 words. Pyrite is going to get her VueTube account suspended. Again.

For all their provisions and comforts, the architects of Everkeep in all their genius didn’t fully account for such a thing as human as a circadian rhythm. Insomnia was a common malady for which any number of supplements and aids were available for down at the Nexus Arcade or, if one needed the stronger stuff, True Vue.

Pyrite preferred a simpler remedy to ill-timed bouts of fatigue: a warm cup of black coffee.

All the more lucky that her organization was staffed by a not-inconsiderable number of self-professed coffee snobs who made sure they kept the very best in stock, and as such, the small kitchenette behind the Backroom was a popular spot to idle away while catching something on the holo. The backroom behind the Backroom, they jokingly called it.

She dragged herself out of her bunk, shaking off the fog of a nap that wouldn’t stick and shuffled into the kitchenette where a pair of off-duty operatives, a young hyune lad and a shetona woman, sat on a sofa against the wall, chattering away about something she didn’t quite catch.

She gave them a lazy waggle of her fingers as she dove into the cabinets for a cup she could take with her—

“How old do you think he is, then?” “I don’t know, he can’t be older than forty.” “You’re assuming he’s hyune.” “Well, he doesn’t have a Xak Turali accent, so he’s not shetona or tonawawtan. Certainly not a milala. What do you figure he is?” “Eldite.” “Eldite? Rusty Reforger is not eldite.”

Pyrite’s cup clattered onto the counter and the two paused to glance at her. She made a show of sighing to herself and chuckling as she retrieved the cup and walked it over to the dispenser, muttering to them. “Long night on recon.”

She paused. Her head tilted and her brows furrowed at the two of them, but at least her conspicuous smile seemed genuine. “...What’re you two on about, now? New Arcadion fighter?”

The hyune lad immediately brightened. “No, no! He’s a reforger. Records himself climbing, finding things out in the old kingdom, and then he posts all of it to his feed. Fascinating stuff.” “And he’s anonymous. No one knows a thing about him save for his voice,” the shetona woman adds with a shrug of one arm. “Has considerable knowledge of antiquated electrope tech that I find interesting.”

Pyrite filled her cup while she kept head turned to follow their description of this reforger, and when she had her fix, she walked over to lean against the sofa to look at a small display the hyune carried. He held it up for her to take and tapped it to start the replay of one of this Rusty Reforger’s climbs into a crumbling facility somewhere out in the ruins of Archaeo Alexandria.

“Alright. Got pointed here by a friend of a friend, said they’d been scroungin’ in here for scrap when the floor started givin’ up under ‘em. Somethin’ about how that’s right up my alley, seein’ as nobody was gonna dispatch a hovercraft out here…”

Pyrite watched from the reforger’s perspective as an electrope tether was swung in a quick circle with a flick of his wrist, and she huffed a singular laugh.

“Huh. Ain’t that somethin’,” she remarked, handing the display back. The hyune nodded in enthusiastic agreement as he leaned back to enjoy the rest of the video.

“You heading out, Pyre? New op?” he asked her. Pyrite shook her head. “Not ‘til intelligence comes back with security bypasses. I got errands to run, anyway.” “Ahh, shame.” “Get some sleep while you can, too,” the shetona called after her, and she gave an appreciative wave as she made for the door to the Backroom proper with her coffee in hand.

—

Perched high up above the promenades of True Vue, Pyrite sat with her back to a wall and clutched her own small display, coffee still steaming in her opposite hand. She pressed the cup to her lips and tilted it back, her eyes glued to the POV of the Rusty Reforger repelling down an exterior wall with finesse that made it look as easy as walking.

Today’s upload. She almost missed it. Insomnia was good for something, at least.

“I think that does it for this one, folks,” he sighed, satisfaction evident in his tone as he tugged on the electrope tether and let it retract off-screen.

She set down her coffee to flick through the replies from his watchers as he ran through his usual sign-off; mostly effusive praise and questions about unaddressed curiosities in the ruins featured, but one particular reply gave her pause.

this is so stupid he just walks into old buildings and describes what he sees? why do people watch this??

Pyrite sucked her teeth, then drew the display in to furiously tap at it for a few moments.

there’s always some envious little shite who’s upset they don’t have half the skill RRF does.

She tapped the reply button and slid the display away in her coat before she could spend another thought on crafting the most potent vitriol to unleash on this faceless commenter. She could get her blood boiling for hours if she let herself get caught arguing back and forth with some of the Rusty Reforger’s less courteous viewers. Not that the man himself ever seemed bothered by it.

At least, Galena never brought it up to her. She wasn’t about to ask him directly either. Like him, she also enjoyed a certain degree of anonymity when it came to his adventures behind the mask. Although he knew she watched his feed, she wasn’t sure he knew that, in the nights they spent apart, his voice was a salve to sleeplessness better than any other the keep could offer.

[sparklecryptid]

Prompto had his share of part-time jobs to supplement whatever money his parents send him while they leave Insomnia for months at time. But his latest one is possibly his favourite! He always liked babysitting little kids and Asteria is super polite for a five-years-old. Her Dad is super nice too, and always gives him a takeaway dinner from his restaurant when he comes home even though Prompto told him he didn't have to, it's enough he gets paid, really.

(For his part, Ace thinks that Prompto's name sounds familiar but for the life of him he can't remember where he's heard it before)

Prompto stares at little Asteria. He stares at little Asteria who is a darling and the daughter of a very kind restaurant owner named Ace who gets grumpy when Prompto mentions how long his parents are gone but never outright tells Prompto that his parents are trash.

Prompto is kind of thankful for that, it allows him to maintain some sort of sanity regarding the whole thing with his parents.

Ace also gives him food and refuses to let Prompto leave without filling his belly full of homemade Galahdian style food first, which makes this one of the best jobs Prompto has ever had if he’s being honest. He’s gets paid, he gets fed, he gets to play with troublemaking magic toddlers who just warped across the room-

Okay, the last thing wasn’t on the list this morning but apparently Asteria has magic which means she is related to Noctis which means that she was making illusions of puppies and stars and flowers throughout Ace’s apartment for the past hour and Prompto has no idea how to DEAL.

So he calls Ignis and Noctis, who bring Gladio and they all decide they can be conflicted over this later.

First they have to catch the warptastic beast know as Asteria.

(Ace comes home to Asteria asleep and sprawled across Noctis and Prompto and as much as Ace would like to give Prompto shit for bringing his friends over Ace’s home reeks of his daughters magic and he is certain he has a good idea of what happened.

He takes a look at how worn out the boys look and has to try not to laugh even as panic wells up in him because there is no way they don’t know.

Best to rip off the bandage then.

“What did she do?” Ace asks.

“Everything,” Noctis answers, “How the hell does she have magic?”

“I have magic,” Ace offers, “Why wouldn’t my daughter?”)

[ms-demeanor]

I don’t duck with predatory schools or cheap unaccredited courses/ capitalism/white washed alternative medicines… but does you beef with alternative practitioners extend to Eastern/ traditional medicinal practices as a whole? Like you don’t think herbalism or acupuncture have healing capabilities?

I am deeply, deeply skeptical of nearly all alternative medicine, but you are unlikely to find anyone who says there are no benefits to most types of alternative medicine. (I'll say it about chiropractic and homeopathy though - there's nothing that a chiropracter can do for you that a physical therapist or massage therapist can't do better and more safely, and homeopathy won't do anything except possibly poison more infants)

However, here's the problem with that:

Acupuncture appears to have fairly reliable effects that are not explained by the placebo effect for things like pain relief, anxiety, and depression, and may also help with disorders relating to those things (insomnia and asthma, for instance). But you should not stop taking your asthma medications because you are being treated for asthma with acupuncture because if you are asthmatic, deciding "oh, my asthma [which treatable, but not curable] is cured!]" and throwing away your rescue inhaler can kill you.

Herbal remedies may be comforting for some people, and may have some effects, but it is dangerous to use, for instance, St. John's Wort to treat depression because it is impossible to standardize a dose of St. John's Wort in something like a tea or an extract, and supplements are not regulated in the US so it is impossible to know *what* dose you're getting in a St. John's Wort supplement.

Many people find chiropractic to be a reasonable means of pain relief, and I'm not going to pretend that their pain isn't reduced from chiropractic treatment, but literally hundreds of studies suggest that for the things that chiropractic has any reliable measurable effect on (musculoskeletal pain) you are going to get better treatment from a massage therapist or a physical therapist.

Ayurvedic medicine has a long history of things like surgeries including cataract surgyery and cauterization to treat bleeding, which do actually work! However ayurvedic medicine also often includes consumption of harmful materials like heavy metals alongside herbs that may have actual medical benefits, or practices like oil pulling, which do absolutely nothing.

Chinese Traditional Medicine may have some useful treatments, but is also associated with things like lead poisoning.

Use of Kava as an herbal alternative pain treatment was linked to a spate of people having liver failure. Kava does work to treat pain, it just also causes liver failure at completely unacceptable rates and at completely unknown doses.

So I don't think that alternative medicines are uniformly awful. Some stuff seems to work okay, and there is some stuff that is very unlikely to cause harm even if it doesn't actually heal.

But, hoo boy, herbalism has *immense* capacity to harm (because it is difficult to ensure accurate dosing, because herbal medications may interfere with allopathic medications, because it is difficult to avoid contaminants and easy to make mistakes with preparations in herbal medicine), which is made worse when people choose herbalism in place of other treatments. There are a thousand horror stories of people using black salve (a caustic substance that is used to treat tumors by chemically burning them off) to treat breast cancer, which is only marginally more horrifying than people who chose to forego cancer treatment in favor of herbalism.

And I'm not particularly in the business of telling people what to do, but I am someone with chronic illnesses who has had alternative treatments proposed to me in place of recognized best practices and I understand that for people with a new or frightening diagnosis it is easy to fall victim to a confident person who is offering 'treatment' at a lower cost and with more hands-on care than an overworked specialist who doesn't take your shitty insurance. Because of that I think that it is often safer to assume that alternative treatments are at best unproven and to start treating medical conditions with allopathic medicine and to use alternative treatments alongside of allopathic medicine (with the full knowledge of your medical team - a lot of "detoxifying" alternative medicines work by making all of your medications ineffective!)

And even if you're going to be using herbalism or acupuncture to treat someone and doing so in conjunction with proven treatments, I still think it's important for the practitioner of alternative medicine to be intellectually curious and scientifically educated enough to recognize when their treatments aren't working; if you have cheerfully taken a course in chiropractic and homeopathy as part of your alternative medicine degree, that does not suggest that you are being given a rigorous, evidence-based education in herbalism or acupuncture by the school that provided the homeopathy class!

It's like if you were getting a degree in engineering and had to take a class on the physics of the time cube in order to graduate. Time Cube Theory 204 cancels out Advanced Fluid Dynamics! Time Cube Theory 204 calls into question the validity of all your other classes! Time Cube Theory 204 is a major alarm bell, and if that didn't chase you out of the building you shouldn't be trusted to build a dam!

[betweenthings2]

“you fell asleep in my arms. it was kind of adorable.”

I think it might kill me but I need it to 😭

Thank you for the ask!! The prompt list is here if anyone else wants to see it =)

Touch-starved prompts- "You fell asleep in my arms. It was kind of adorable."

Matty's insomnia has been getting bad again lately. He has better tools for dealing with it these days, but that doesn't mean he doesn't find it frustrating. He tries a handful of over-the-counter supplements and spends a lot of time laying in bed and staring at the ceiling and when that doesn't work for more than an hour or two at a time, he starts watching films. Sometimes a film lulls him to sleep for a bit, but more than anything he's reached the point that he's just about run out of good things to watch on the streaming services they subscribe to and racked up rental fees on Amazon. Sometimes George tries to stay up too, but Matty usually tells him to go to sleep at a certain point.

Tonight, though, George refuses to listen when Matty insists he go to bed. Instead, he urges Matty pull up his streaming service of choice on the small TV in their bedroom and pulls Matty into his lap while another film plays, casting light through the room.  And Matty tries so hard to fall asleep. He does his best to get comfy, lets George tug the blankets up over their legs, lets George play with his hair. When the film ends and Matty still hasn't fallen asleep, he tries to convince George to go to bed. He refuses, lets Matty chose another film, and continues playing with Matty's hair, gentle and soothing.

Matty won't lie--being unable to sleep isn't quite as bad with George here and the film is more interesting with George here and it's so nice to have George playing with his hair. It's nice and Matty is exhausted and suddenly so very sleepy. He shifts, burrowing a little deeper into George's arms and lets his eyes fall closed. He doesn't really expect to sleep, and if by some chance he does, he doesn't expect to sleep for very long or well, but still, he might as well try.

And then Matty blinks his eyes open their bedroom bathed in mid-morning light. He almost doesn't believe that he's slept for as long as he has or that he feels as well rested as he does. Maybe he's finally beginning to lose his grip on things. Maybe he's gone so long without proper sleep he's beginning to hallucinate. He's still mostly in George's lap though, and George's fingers are still carding through his hair and Matty is pretty sure that his own brain doesn't like him enough to hallucinate something so pleasant.

"George?" Matty murmurs, quiet so as to not disturb the peace.

"G'morning," George answers. "You slept for about nine hours."  

"Really?"

George nods. "Yeah. You fell asleep in my arms. It was kind of adorable."

"I was cozy," Matty responds, half protesting. "And I hadn't really slept."

"I know," George says. "It was adorable. How d'ya feel?"

Matty shifts, answering, "Really good, actually. What kind of magic did you work?"

"Maybe you should've let me stay up with you," George teases.

Matty moves out of George's lap so he can stretch and roll his shoulders and says, "There's no point us both being exhausted all the time." He pauses, then adds, "But I do always appreciate the offer and I appreciate that you staying up last night. It did help."

"I like doing things for you," George reminds. "And if something helps, I'm happy to do it. All you have to do is ask. Or if you don't like asking, then you can just nod when I give you the suggestion you like."

Matty huffs a little laugh, then admits, "I know. I just feel bad asking you to be uncomfortable."

George leans over to press a kiss to Matty's temple and says, "I want you to. I always want you to."

"I know," Matty repeats. "It's just-"

"Don't agonize about it," George interrupts. "Just know, ok?"

Matty nods. "I know. I do."