#or what if he has a stroke or develops some kind of disease in one of his organs

[vitiateoriginator]

Next week is Klaus' 10th birthday, and I'm in such disbelief. where did the time go

[malleleothreesome]

Leona who is pining after you...

💛 summary: Cohesive blurbs about things Leona would do and what he would be like if he were pining after you. ༶༶༶ 💛 warnings: gender neutral reader, unedited, pretty much just a stream of my thoughts. There is cursing. Very angsty but also has romance. Mentions of depressive thoughts. A very raw look into Leona's mind. There is smut (wet dream) in the middle, marked with 🔞 if you want to skip to the next bullet. ༶༶༶ 💛 word count: 4.7k because I'm delulu

💛 Leona who is pining after you... tries to gaslight himself and cling to any sort of logical explanation he can come up with to try to convince himself that he definitely does not have feelings for you. It was probably just a one-time thing, and he just needs to find a way to get you out of his head. He's never thought about anyone this way before, so it's definitely just an error in his brain chemistry or something. It was only a coincidence that he happened to be thinking about you at that particular time, and if you had never been on his mind at all, his heart wouldn't be beating so fast every time he interacts with you. He would never allow himself to develop feelings for anyone, especially you, so he must not actually have any. It's really that simple. It couldn't possibly be that he's fallen for some weird, magicless human, right? Right?! There has to be something medically wrong with him! He must be crazy to have these kinds of thoughts about a stranger who just randomly poofed into existence at the beginning of the semester. Why did you invade his dreams? It doesn't matter! What the hell is wrong with him?!

It has to be a mistake, because there is no way he would EVER fall for someone as annoying and boring as you are, even if you do seem to have a better understanding of him than the people who have known him his whole life, and you treat him like he actually matters instead of seeing him as the scumbag you probably should have gotten to know better before giving him your time and attention. It's not like he genuinely cares what you think of him, anyway – he’s just grateful that he doesn't have to deal with another person treating him like a failure or a lazy, worthless piece of shit.

The way you look at him like he could be someone worth loving despite his constant tirade of anger is definitely not a key factor in him caring for you. Your smile and laugh makes his chest feel funny, and the fact that he is suddenly hyper-aware of his body when he's around you is probably just a symptom of mental or physical illness. Maybe he’s finally eaten too much red meat and he’s about to succumb to heart disease at the ripe age of 20. Perhaps he simply hasn't rubbed one out in a while and he’s thinking with his dick and not his head? He's definitely not attracted to you, and he's absolutely not thinking about what it would be like to kiss you right now. That would just be insane, and he can't believe he even let himself entertain the thought! He’d rather die than think about what it would be like to wrap his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him as you sit on his lap, looking down at him with that beautiful smile and those cunning eyes of yours, gently stroking his face as you lean down to press your lips against his… oh, god dammit!

💛 Leona who is pining after you… finally lays down in surrender to the fact that, alright, maybe he does have feelings for your dumb ass – against all odds. He convinces himself that he’s only humoring this pathetic little crush because it makes his monotonous, tiresome days a little more riveting. Lions are predators, and the thrill of the hunt is a key part of their nature, after all. Before you, all he had to look forward to was staring at the ceiling in his dark room for most of the day until the stars showed up in the sky, or until he got roped into housewarden drama and became too frustrated to do anything other than restlessly pace around Savanaclaw before eventually confining himself back to the comforting solitude of his room. He tells himself he might as well allow himself the small luxury of thinking about someone who doesn’t entirely annoy the shit out of him, because he could sure as hell use the emotional relief. At least this way, he isn’t actively thinking about how much he hates his life, and how much he hates himself for letting it become this way. Besides, what would be the harm in letting himself entertain the idea that maybe, just maybe – if he was lucky enough – you could be the first person to ever break down the walls he built to keep himself from getting hurt by other people? Plus, if nothing else, you make for such a pretty daydream.

Every moment he spends with you makes him want you to keep sticking around even after everything is said and done. You can actually keep up with his banter, which is probably why he can actually stand being around you in the first place. No one else is capable of keeping up with his quick wit, or of providing him with a good challenge. You aren't scared off by his harsh demeanor, and you're able to stand up to him when he gets a little too overbearing. You don't take his bullshit, but you still care about his well being and treat him with respect. Despite his public struggles, you don’t see him as some sort of charity case. He's never met anyone else who is able to be so firm with him, but gentle at the same time. He didn't know someone could have such a strong presence without even having magic, but you're somehow always able to pull the rug out from under him, showing him that you're much more powerful than he initially gave you credit for. You're a real pain in his ass sometimes, but you're also the only person in years who's made him feel like life might actually be worth living. Maybe these feelings aren't so bad after all…

💛 Leona who is pining after you… starts leaving his room more often and even attending classes again, hoping he'll run into you on campus. If he doesn't see you, that would suck, but he knows if he stays in his room all day, then he'd risk losing the chance to spend the day with you completely. Besides, if there's even the slightest possibility, seeing you could be the highlight of his day and make even his shittiest days seem almost bearable. When you finally show up, he throws a casual greeting and a nonchalant raise of a single brow, pretending like he coincidentally ran into you in the crowd and totally didn't memorize your class schedule. When your face lights up, telling him you were glad to run into him, his pulse races and for a split second, a goofy grin flashes on his face and he desperately starts fighting his tail from swishing eagerly behind him. All he does is mumble in agreement, then shove his hands in his pockets, rolling his eyes like this isn't what he's been waiting for since he woke up. He says he might as well join you in the cafeteria, because he's starving and it's that time anyway, so whatever.

As you enter the lunch line, your face falls in disappointment when you realize your favorite sandwich is sold out. Leona expected something like this would happen, so he asked Ruggie to grab him one of that type of sandwich along with his usual order, on the chance that he would get to spend lunch with you. He looks to his right, glancing at your slumped shoulders as your mood seems to deflate a little as a frown forms on your face. He steps forward and grumbles an off-hand comment that he snagged one earlier for himself, but since you look so pitiful, he'll let you have it, only because he doesn't want to deal with your incessant whining the whole lunch. When you gape up at him, shocked by his thoughtful gesture, his face starts burning red as he quickly turns away, aggressively stuffing a bite of food in his face to make himself look distracted. When he happens to catch your thankful eyes glistening at him, it feels like the air has been punched right out of his lungs, and the small smile and sincere gratitude tugging on the corner of your lips causes his stomach to do backflips. How annoying that his usually stoic demeanor always falls apart in front of you.

💛 Leona who is pining after you... constantly teases you and tries to embarrass you, attempting to make it sound like you're the one pining for him (even if you're not!) just to try to distract you from the truth. He teases you relentlessly, hoping it’ll make it so you won't feel confident calling him out on the little ways he treats you differently than everyone else. He loves seeing you get flustered trying to deny it, but he also uses it as an opportunity to study your reactions, trying to deduce your real feelings for him by the color in your cheeks, the wavering of your voice, how often you avert your eyes, and how quickly you fire back with an argument. The smirk that emerges on his face tells you exactly that he's not convinced, even if you deny everything. He may be subtle about it, but he uses every opportunity he can find to feel you out, to see if there's even the slightest possibility you might feel something for him. He'll never let you know how badly he wants it to be true with every fiber of his being. He’d be absolutely thrilled if you confessed to him, but he’ll never show it, because it's far more comfortable hiding behind sarcasm. His prideful, guarded heart prevents him from expressing genuine positive emotions and potentially opening himself up to any type of mockery.

💛 Leona who is pining after you... slowly becoming more attached to the idea of you falling for him. As the weeks go by and he hears you giggle as you argue with him, his thoughts linger a bit more when they try to calculate why he's not actually feeling burnt out from spending so much time with you. His patience with the rest of the world starts waning, not really bothering to deal with anyone or anything that could distract him from basking in your aura for as long as possible. He even takes a more active role in interacting with you, whether you two are chatting as he sits on a bench in the botanical gardens, or hanging out after-hours in his room, hoping that this could eventually become a common routine. He loves learning about you and the world you come from. When you open up about your background, he enjoys getting a glimpse into your mind. His brain starts rapidly filing away little details about you, creating a catalog of thoughts for each of his favorite things about you, or the little quirks you have that he secretly finds endearing. The memories of conversations where you both held each other's gaze for a fraction of a second longer than normal or the accidental touches that cause his heart to skip a beat come to life with a vibrance never seen in other parts of his memory bank. The time you grabbed his hand because the tree branches kept making “spooky” noises around you and the time you playfully messed up his hair (even daring to cop a feel of his ear in the process!), are some of his favorite memories to revisit.

As you two grow closer and more comfortable with each other, he pretends to be annoyed at you more often, only because he wants to test how well you can read him, and also how far he can push you. He revels in the way he feels a spark in his chest and a faint smile tugs at the corner of his lips whenever your eyes meet. He tries hard to remind himself that the growing heat rising to his face every time you grin at him is all because of the temperature. His playful touches start to become more sensual, his voice dips deeper and more seductive as his hands linger on your skin, his breath fanning against your face and neck with every taunting word spoken. He hates himself for loving the way you bite your lip and blush under his gaze as he continues to run his hand up your arm, causing your eyelids to flutter. He loves the feeling of power your vulnerable, affectionate expression grants him, the rush of endorphins so great he thinks his entire body might collapse. When he pulls his hand back, the stinging absence leaves him in a state of panic, terrified that this might have been the moment you'd realize how he feels about you and finally flee. In an effort to swallow his vulnerability and save face, he'll cover up his aroused desire with aggression. With a bite in his tone, he'll lash out at you, mocking the way you acted so touch-starved and desperate in the heat of the moment, even though the only one truly desperate here is him. He has to force himself to maintain eye contact and an air of dominance with you while he snaps at you, even as he feels his throat tighten, heart slamming against his ribs. He metaphorically shoves you away and leaves before he loses control, before his raw affection for you spills from his lips like a confession.

💛 🔞 Leona who is pining after you... fast asleep as he lies alone in bed, your figure haunting his dreams. Right before he fell asleep, he was having a particularly bad day and he found himself clinging to a fantasy of holding you in his arms, using you as an anchor to help him process the dread of reality. On a typical night, all he has are his regrets and unanswered questions swirling around in his subconscious, but tonight is different – he falls asleep dreaming about being curled up against your warmth, wondering what it would be like for you to stroke his hair, gently reminding him that there's at least one good thing to wake up for, no matter how empty the day may feel.

As he falls deeper into his slumber, his eyelids begin to twitch and his long eyelashes tickle his flushed cheekbones. He finds himself lost within a dreamy state that feels so very real to him as your face fades into focus. You're kneeling beside him in the bed, and his body is covered in the sheets, with your arms wrapped underneath his shoulder. He can barely tell whether or not this is really a dream at this point as you rest your head against his. He can feel his body stirring and his tail twitching, roused by the comforting and blissful affection. The way you smile at him as you run your thumb along the curvature of his sharp jawline stirs a dormant ache in his soul as you lean forward and leave featherlight kisses in the crook of his neck, causing him to whimper under his breath. He buries his nose in the locks of your hair, desperately wrapping his arms around your waist, pushing your face deeper into the space between his neck and shoulder, craving the coziness and comfort of being physically close to the source of his yearning. In his dreams, your lips are able to be as soft and gentle as they are fierce and demanding, as the grip he has on reality grows weaker the longer he lets himself be trapped under the intoxicating spell you cast upon him, rendering him at the mercy of his deepest desires.

His breath becomes more labored and hitched, his temperature rising as a flush spreads across his face. His body starts moving involuntarily and he buries his hips further into his mattress, his aching cock desperate to be touched, throbbing as his precum smears against the sheets. He begins humping the bed, whining from the friction against his bare skin as he pulls you closer in his dream, shamelessly chasing after the erotic thoughts racing through his mind, fueled by the illusion of having you in his possession – ready to be ravished and worshiped by him and him alone. His full lips part as he moans your name. He thrashes around in his bed, a tingling, aching need radiates throughout his groin as his back arches off of the sheets, grinding his cock against the fabric of his blanket. He can almost feel the warmth of your body as he bucks his hips upwards once more, desperate for your heat. His fingers twitch as they clutch tighter onto the fabric, desperately trying to grab onto the illusion of you instead, wishing he could feel the texture of your skin underneath his fingertips. In his hazy state, he bites his lips and runs his fingers down his sculpted abdomen, his hand with a mind of its own, aching to reach lower. With a sigh of pleasure, he teases the tip of his leaking, throbbing erection as the muscles in his legs quiver with anticipation. He pushes his thumb against the slit of his tip, already wet with his excitement. He slowly rubs circles around his cockhead, causing his breath to hitch and his cock jerk at the sensation. In his unconscious mind, it's not his hand gripping his shaft – it's yours.

He wraps his large hand around the length of his dick, letting out a moan of pleasure as he starts to stroke, his pace increasing steadily with each pump, imagining what it would be like to have you kneeling between his spread legs, looking up at him as you jerk him off, begging to be fucked by him. His cock twitches and aches to be inside of you, to see your lewd expression as his dick fills you, his senses overwhelmed by the sight of you under him, sprawled out, sweaty and splayed wide open for the taking, gasping for air in between broken moans. His hips buck into his hand and he lets out a low growl as he feels the pressure building within him, feeling himself getting closer to the edge. He quickens the pace as he squeezes the base of his cock, stroking faster and faster, trying to keep up with the intensity of his dream. He wants to feel your velvety walls squeezing around him, milking every drop of cum from his throbbing cock. He pants heavily as the sensation of ecstasy courses through his body, moaning your name as he orgasms, his back arching off of the bed as he cums all over his hand, shooting thick ropes of hot cum onto his abs. He slows his pace, riding out his orgasm, lazily stroking his cock as it pulsates through his veins, feeling the aftershocks of pleasure tingling down his spine. With a final moan of satisfaction, he collapses on his bed, utterly spent from his activities. The euphoria of his orgasm fades away as he comes back to reality, slowly finding himself coming into consciousness. As he opens his eyes, the first thing he sees is the mess he made. He groans as he rolls out of bed, annoyed that he has to clean up after his wet dream before he can go back to sleep.

💛 Leona who is pining after you... falls into despair when he realizes his stupid feelings for you aren't going away – they're actually getting stronger by the day. You’ve made him feel like the world's not actually so cruel anymore, but he knows that his tiny, fragile castle is sure to crumble at any moment. Nothing good ever stays his way, does it? He's been telling himself that this was all some game. It's not like he actually wanted to be in a relationship with you, right? That would be far too much work. But what if you were actually worth the time? What if he could have someone who knew every aspect of his being and still loved and accepted him? What if he could be the person who's worthy of your beautiful, unrelenting love? Even as he chastises himself for entertaining the possibility of a relationship with anyone – especially a herbivore like you – a desperate, longing ache burrows into his bones, overpowering the cold, empty hollowness within him that had haunted him his whole life. This can't be love that he's feeling, and if it is... he knows now that love is the only strategy game in existence he's terrible at playing. There's no doubt in his mind he'll make the worst decisions imaginable because his entire being is clouded with insecurity. He is painfully aware that if he were to ever open himself up to the possibility of being with you, then his first thought would be of a thousand ways you would hurt him. He tortures himself with worries and fear, letting himself be consumed by anxiety.

The thing that frightens him most is becoming reliant on someone else for his happiness. Having someone whose opinion he actually values not thinking he is good enough for them is his worst nightmare. If there's one thing life has taught him, it's better to not have anyone at all. Besides, he doesn't even deserve you. There isn't a soul in this world who deserves someone like you – someone so selfless, understanding, empathetic, and forgiving. If you were his, you'd suffer. Your light would slowly flicker out from the darkness he would drown you in, just like everything else in his life that ever mattered to him. There is so much beauty to you that would go to waste in his care – why would someone as perfect as you ever settle for someone like him, anyway? There's no way you'd ever return his feelings. And even if you did… could he even be brave enough to allow you in? Does he have the strength to accept a heart freely offered to him? Will the scars and darkness within him allow him to accept such pure and unconditional love? He can't possibly be selfish enough to ask you to take the chance on him. You deserve to be with someone who is strong and complete – someone who can give you their whole being, wholly and unreservedly – not someone who is afraid of showing weakness, for fear of you leaving him broken-hearted. Someone who would actually have the capacity to love you like you should be loved. Not a broken, shattered shell of a Prince that could only ever give you pieces of his heart that are full of cracks.

Why the fuck does his chest hurt just thinking about the fact that you would be better off without him? It feels as if someone were stabbing his heart repeatedly, and no matter what he does, the wounds refuse to close and the blood continues to ooze through the cracks. He stares up at the dark ceiling of his dorm room as a single tear rolls down his cheek for the first time in years as he tries to cope with this excruciating feeling of hopelessness, despondency, and despair. The fear that you will one day be gone from his life grips his soul, his heart pleading with him to simply confess, yet his twisted mind forces him to remind himself of his inadequacy. What a sad, pathetic sight you would see, the once fearsome lion, pitifully pawing at your ankles as his heart poured itself at your feet, praying for the warmth of your love and the validation of your approval.

💛 Leona who is pining after you… hates how obsessed he is with you and your opinion of him. Every day he finds himself trying to be better because you make him want to try harder to make the world a brighter place. Maybe you're right, maybe he doesn't need to be King in order to lead people and do great things. Because of the friendship you two have nourished, he finally feels comfortable opening up to you and talking to you about what he's going through: his past, and how much he truly cares about everyone's safety, success, and overall happiness – a sentiment that's foreign to everyone who's ever known him in the past. Although he still can't bring himself to vocalize his emotions aloud, you now truly understand the message his eyes are always trying to relay, no matter how small the glimpse: even if he was destined for a fate in the shadows, his biggest hope is to someday become the leader he was supposed to be. His newfound vulnerability allows you to slowly chip off the armor that guards his heart and bring him peace, healing his wounded spirit. Because of you, he now understands what it feels like to be valued and treasured by another, and he feels empowered enough to put the effort into doing something to change his future for the better. It scares him how badly he wants to impress you, wanting you to be proud of how he's matured.

Before taking on the daunting task of bettering his Kingdom, he starts with something small – making a positive difference in your life. You actually make him feel useful. He loves the way you look up at him with admiration. He knows now that one of the reasons he fell for you so hard is because you always ask for his advice – knowing damn well he's the smartest person in this godforsaken place – and you actually take it. You listen to him and you value his opinions. Seeing things work out for the better when you take his advice and enact his plans gives him a rush of pride and confidence. It motivates him to keep working hard to have good ideas that benefit the world. He's always enjoyed helping people even though he's bad at putting it into words, or showing his true intentions, instead preferring to keep people guessing while he hides behind his indifference and nonchalant attitude. But now, thanks to you, he finds that the more time he spends caring about helping the people around him, the more understanding and honest he is with himself, the happier he becomes. He's feeling more confident stepping up to the plate, having less fear of letting himself or the other people he cares about down.

He started feeling honored to be the housewarden for Savanaclaw again and he actually takes the responsibility seriously, tackling issues and standing his ground with the students and teachers. He wants to set an example for others, making you proud of his actions by raising his standard. When it comes to issues in the school and within his territory, he's calm and diplomatic as he addresses issues – making sure everyone is heard and everyone walks away satisfied. No longer is he plagued by a lack of enthusiasm to make real, significant changes. He now genuinely enjoys himself, striving to go beyond his expectations to overcome his shortcomings, always pushing himself to think outside of the box. It's like the Leona of his past no longer exists, and he doesn't feel any resentment or shame at the thought, simply believing it's for the better that he finally has the strength to make room for a version of himself he can enjoy instead. Because of your guidance and patience with him, he’s slowly learning to no longer fight his introspective nature, instead choosing to work hard every day to embrace all aspects of himself – whether they be negative or positive. Every day is far from perfect, but he's allowing himself the respite of leaning on your shoulder, even though for now, it’s just as a friend and trusted ally, not as a lover. For the first time, he's happy with where his life is going and the person he is becoming. Through this whole experience of falling for you, he learned that there are still things worth fighting for, regardless of if you one day soon reciprocate his feelings or not. At least, that's what he keeps telling himself.

I was nervous to write this because we all know that canon Leona leaves much to be desired when it comes to his story and the complexities of his character. I've spent over a year of loving him, meticulously crafting who I think he is and who I want him to be. Most days, I'm pretty sure Leona Kingscholar is just a character who exists solely inside of my mind, completely separate from the source material. So, if this resonates with you, I am very glad! Thank you for reading. I hope I was able to bring justice to my beloved Leona! If you would like to see this series with another character, please let me know. 💛 Erica Malleleothreesome

[unboundprompts]

Thank you so much for your blog! It's so neatly organized, it's lovely to read. It takes a lot of commitment to do detail every post and still constantly update, and I'm very grateful for you <3

I was wondering if you could write tips+prompts for a paranoid character?

Thank you again 😺

Thank you for the kind words!! That means a lot :)

How to Write a Paranoid Character

-> sources: mind.org , betterhealth.vic.gov

Paranoia is the irrational and persistent feeling that people are "out to get you."

Things that Make Paranoia More Likely:

Having confusing or unsettling experiences or feelings that you can't easily explain.

If you are anxious or worried a lot or have low self-esteem and expect others to criticize or reject you.

If you tend to come to conclusions quickly, believe things very strongly, and don't easily change your mind.

If you are isolated.

If you have experienced trauma in the past.

Things that may Contribute to Paranoid Thoughts:

Life experiences. You are more likely to experience paranoid thoughts when you are in vulnerable, isolated or stressful situations that could lead to you feeling negative about yourself.

Experiences in your childhood may lead you to believe that the world is unsafe or make you mistrustful and suspicious of others. These experiences may also affect your self-esteem and the way you think as an adult.

If you experience anxiety, depression, or low self-esteem, you may be more likely to experience paranoid thoughts.

Paranoia is sometimes a symptom of certain physical illnesses such as Huntington's disease, Parkinson's disease, strokes, Alzheimer's disease and other forms of dementia. Hearing loss can also trigger paranoid thoughts in some people.

Lack of sleep can trigger feelings of insecurity and even unsettling feelings and hallucinations. Fears and worries may develop late at night.

Recreational drugs may trigger paranoia, such as cocaine, cannabis, alcohol, ecstasy, LSD, and amphetamines. This may happen particularly if you're already feeling low, anxious or experiencing other mental health problems.

Research has suggested that genes may affect whether you are more likely to develop paranoia.

Symptoms of Paranoia:

being easily offended

finding it difficult to trust others

not coping with any type of criticism

assigning harmful meanings to other people's remarks

being always on the defensive

being hostile, aggressive, and argumentative

not being able to compromise

finding it difficult (or impossible) to "forgive and forget"

assuming that people are talking ill of them behind their back

being overly suspicious

not being able to confide in anyone

finding relationships difficult

considering the world to be a place of constant threat

feeling persecuted by the world at large

believing in unfounded conspiracy theories

Writing Prompts for a Paranoid Person

-> feel free to edit and adjust pronouns as you see fit.

Everyone was against him. No one liked to see him succeed and so they were doing everything in their power to stop him.

People were talking about her behind her back. They would whisper as she walked by, and their laughter would echo in her ears as she got further from them.

"You never believe me!" They wailed, pointing an accusing finger at their friend. "You wouldn't get it! You don't know what it's like to be hated by everyone!"

He laid in bed, staring at the ceiling and wide awake. It was a nightly routine, at this point. He could never bring himself to close his eyes. There were too many things going on his head, too many things that only made him dread when morning came.

Everything was about to go so wrong so fast, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. The impending doom beat down on her shoulders, reminding her that she was not okay. She was not safe.

They couldn't stop fidgeting with their hands. It used to offer some form of comfort, but not anymore. How could it when the whole world is against you?

They were looking at him. They were watching his every move. He was being tracked. Studied. Something was going to happen. Something bad. Something he wasn't prepared for. What could he do to be prepared?

"You think I'm crazy, but I'm not! You'll see."

If you like what I do and want to support me, please consider buying me a coffee! I also offer editing services and other writing advice on my Ko-fi! Become a member to receive exclusive content, early access, and prioritized writing prompt requests.

[drvijenderkumarjain]

Cerebrovascular Surgery In India By Dr. Vk Jain

Cerebrovascular surgery is a necessary treatment for many people who have problems with their blood vessels in the brain. Blocked blood vessels can cause a stroke, and aneurysms can burst and cause serious damage. Cerebrovascular surgery can repair these problems and help to prevent further damage.

What kind of conditions are commonly treated by cerebrovascular surgery?

Here are some of the conditions that are treated by cerebrovascular surgery:

Ischemic stroke: Ischemic stroke is a common type of stroke that is caused by a blockage in one of the arteries supplying blood to the brain. This can occur as a result of a blood clot, atherosclerosis (hardening of the arteries), or another condition that restricts blood flow.

Hemorrhagic stroke: A hemorrhagic stroke, also called a cerebral hemorrhage, is a form of stroke that results from bleeding within the brain. It occurs when an artery in the brain ruptures and leaks blood into the surrounding tissue. Hemorrhagic strokes are less common than ischemic strokes, but they are often more deadly.

Cavernous malformations: Cavernous malformations are congenital, non-cancerous, blood vessel abnormalities. They can occur anywhere in the body but are most commonly found in the brain and spine.

Cerebral aneurysms: A cerebral aneurysm is a bulge or weak spot in the wall of an artery in the brain. Arteries carry oxygen-rich blood from the heart to all the parts of our body. When an aneurysm ruptures, it can cause a hemorrhage (a type of bleeding), which can lead to death.

Cerebral arteriovenous malformations: A cerebral arteriovenous malformation, or CAVM, is a congenital defect in the brain where blood vessels are abnormally connected. This can cause blood to flow too quickly and lead to a hemorrhage. Symptoms can include seizures, headaches, and vision problems. Treatment options include medication, surgery, or radiation therapy.

Spinal arteriovenous malformations: Spinal arteriovenous malformations (AVMs) are rare lesions that occur when veins and arteries in the spine mix together. This can cause blood to flow abnormally and lead to serious health problems.

Cerebral/spinal dural arteriovenous fistulas: A cerebral spinal dural arteriovenous fistula (CVAF) is a rare and serious type of vascular malformation that develops between the arteries and veins in the dura mater, the outermost membrane surrounding the brain and spinal cord. C

Moyamoya disease: Moyamoya disease is a rare neurological disorder that leads to the abnormal development of blood vessels in the brain. These new blood vessels are thin and can easily rupture, which can lead to a stroke.

Transient ischemic attacks: A transient ischemic attack (TIA), also called a mini-stroke, is a short-term stroke that causes minimal or no permanent damage. TIA symptoms are very similar to those of a full-blown stroke, but they usually last only a few minutes and then disappear.

Trigeminal neuralgia: Trigeminal neuralgia is a chronic, stabbing pain in the face that is caused by damage to or irritation of the trigeminal nerve. The trigeminal nerve is one of the main nerves in the head and controls facial sensations and movement.

Hemifacial spasm: Hemifacial spasm is a disorder that affects the muscles on one side of the face. It causes the muscles to contract uncontrollably, which can lead to facial distortion and difficulty speaking. The cause of hemifacial spasm is unknown, but it may be related to a problem with the blood vessels or nerves in the face.

About Dr. VK Jain

Dr. V K Jain is the Principal Director of Neurosurgery and Spine Surgery at Max Hospitals in Delhi and NCR.

Dr. Vijender Kumar Jain is one of the best neurosurgeons and spine surgeons in India. He is the head of Max Hospitals' Neuro and Spine Department in Delhi and NCR region. He has over 41 years of experience in Neurosurgery. He is the most recommended neurosurgeon in India by patients. He has performed over 16,000 procedures and is recognized for his expertise and skill in the field.

He is known for his surgical precision and his expertise lies in treating tumors, aneurysms, spinal cord injuries, and other conditions related to brain and spine. Patients from all over the world travel to India to seek his expertise in neurosurgery. Dr. Jain's passion for clinical work and his training as well as research allow him to be a standout neurosurgeon in India. He has penned a substantial number of papers in peer-reviewed journals and has been a keynote speaker at several medical conferences. His research and innovative surgical techniques have earned him well-deserved repute in the medical field.

Cerebrovascular Surgery in India

Cerebrovascular surgery is a critical surgical procedure that is used to treat various conditions that affect the blood vessels in the brain. This type of surgery can be very complex, and it is important to find a doctor who is experienced in performing this procedure.There are a few surgeons who offer cerebrovascular surgery in India and Dr. VK Jain is one of them.

Dr. VK Jain is considered as the best neurosurgeon in India for cerebrovascular surgery. He has over 41 years of experience in performing this type of surgery, and he has successfully treated many patients with complex vascular problems. Dr. Jain works at Max Hospital, one of the leading hospitals in India, and he is highly skilled in providing state-of-the-art care for his patients.

Dr. VK Jain is known for his skill in both open and minimally invasive procedures. Patients who have undergone surgery with him have generally had a positive outcome. Contact us today to know the cost of Cerebrovascular Surgery in India.

[neon-junkie]

The Big Bad Wolf

Summary: After a too-close-for-comfort encounter with a wolf, Flaco finds himself in a new form, and he's willing to put all of his new abilities to good use.

Pairing: Flaco Hernández x f!Reader

Word Count: 5254

Rating: NSFW

Tags: Werewolf/Human, Mating, Accidental knotting, Monsters, slight A/B/O, Scents, Praise, Dirty talk, Mating press, Transformation, Smut without a plot.      

Notes: This is ENTIRELY self-indulgent and super horny. I'm not sorry for it at all, not in the slightest.

It was just a scratch. A tiny, little scratch that could have been much worse if Flaco hadn't managed to draw his sawn off shotgun just in time, blowing the wolf's chest open. You fussed him, jabbing back at his protests, insisting that despite it barely bleeding, the wound still needed to be treated; who knows what diseases that wolf was carrying.

Flaco's gloves were ruined, and another scar is soon to join his various collection, dotted across his body. "I'll buy you another pair when I come to see you next," you told him as you patched him up before both of you retired to bed, throwing a few extra logs on the fire to keep the chill out tonight.

Only you wake up sweating, peeling off your clothes, tossing them to the floor in an attempt to cool down. You're no stranger to being naked around Flaco, considering how many times you've found yourself in those kinds of situations with him, but it feels odd, being completely bare and rolling over, your eyes half-lidded, to cuddle up to the thickness of his coat.

But his coat feels thicker than usual; the fur feels longer, cleaner, not matted and slightly rough like the usual, well-worn Bison coat that he wears. You try and not pay much attention to it, wrapping your arm around his waist, attempting to be the big spoon, only to be met with even longer hair as your palm rubs across his chest.

Not only does his coat feel unusual, but he feels big. Well, Flaco's a big man, but this is suspiciously big, as if he's doubled in size. After a few minutes of trying to ignore it, you give up, propping yourself up on an elbow and tapping Flaco awake. The logs from a few hours ago are finally turning into embers, barely lighting the cabin, but still keeping it somewhat warm and lit, not that you need that extra heat right now.

"What?" Flaco grumbles, making no effort to move.

"..." what are you meant to say? that you woke him up because his coat feels weird? "Just roll over," you instruct, and he complies without question.

Flaco's reaching out, attempting to bundle you up in his arms, assuming you just want to cuddle. However, you feel the life suddenly drain from you as you're met with a sight that you can't quite explain. That's not Flaco, or at least, not the Flaco that you know. That's not human, either, but it's still... him...

"Look at me," you order, your voice quiet yet firm, and Flaco laughs at your sternness.

"What? am I cuddling you wrong?" he chuckles. Flaco looks up with a happy smile, warmth in his deep, brown eyes, his ears perking up, and his wet nose wiggling. Your mouth is wide open, stuttering a string of incoherent sounds, and Flaco's smile soon fades away as he realizes that you seem off. "What is it?" he questions, shuffling up the bed and sitting upright, the blankets pooling down over his waist, exposing his thick hairy chest, only this time, he's covered. Literally.

"You're... uh... Flaco, you're a..." you attempt to inform in, but words continue to fail you. Should you laugh? cry? scream? Instead, you scurry out of bed, rushing over to your rucksack and fishing a pocket mirror from it. He laughs when you hand it over, assuming that you're making a fuss over nothing.

"Oh, have I got dirt on my face again? you know, it's not that big of a deal, there's no need to-" Flaco shuts his mouth once his gaze meets his reflection, only for it to fall open again seconds later when he's confirmed that yes, that really is what he looks like right now. "I'm a wolf," Flaco exclaims, and begins grinning at his own reflection, checking out his teeth, or specifically, his fangs.

Of course Flaco is going to be overjoyed about this. Something catches the corner of your eye, quietly thudding in the darkness beside the wall. You pull the blanket from Flaco to be met with his tail, long and fluffy, wagging away joyfully. "Nice," Flaco comments with a laugh, brushing through the fur on his tail with his large paws, as if to confirm that it's really there.

"Nice?!" you yelp. "How is this nice, Flaco? you're not human!"

"Yeah, nice! Now I really am a wolf, huh? it's not a metaphor any more," Flaco laughs, flashing his fangs as he chuckles to himself.

Oh, you know how much Flaco likes to call himself 'the wolf.' He wears his title with pride, like a badge of honour, so much to the point that he often refers to himself in third-person with that nickname. He's a proud man, and even prouder to associate himself with such an animal; and his pride only seems to be doubling in size due to his new form.

Flacos focus is on his reflection again, and you watch as he shuffles out of bed, attempting to stand, only to bonk his head on the roof of his cabin. "Mierda!" Flaco hisses, crouching over and giving the top of his head a rub; he lets out a soft whimper as he settles down by the fire, using its light so he can admire himself in more detail, opening up your pocket mirror once more.

You sit and watch, mouth open, questioning how this has happened. Flaco's reaction really shouldn't be a surprise to you, and you decide to leave him to gussy himself up, whilst you begin trailing into deep through about how this might have happened.

It must have been the wolf from yesterday, the scratch on Flaco's hand. "I think it's a curse," you mutter to yourself as you pull the blanket up over your shoulders, bundling your naked body up, something that for once, Flaco has paid no attention to. The blanket covers most of your frame, your feet sticking out at the bottom, and the rest of you is snugly covered.

"Cursed?" Flaco repeats. "Eh, I don't think it's a curse, but a blessing instead."

"A blessing?!" you yelp, "how?! what if you're stuck like this forever?"

"Well, I guess you'll have to get use to having a big, loving werewolf as a partner then," Flaco laughs. His laughter is deep, coming straight from his chest, as always. However, there's now a soft growl in the mix, his fangs on display as he chuckles away.

"Flaco this isn't the time for jokes!" you pout, standing up and peering down at him with softly furrowed brows. "I'm not joking!" he defends, and attempts to stand yet again. This time, Flaco doesn't hit his head; he's unable to stand up straight, his back arching slightly, his frame standing tall over you in a way that doesn't mean to be dominating, but it is. And for some reason, you don't seem to mind, knowing that this werewolf in front of you is far from a threat... unless this really is a curse, and he begins to change even more.

"You don't like me like this?" Flaco questions, and lets out a soft whine when you don't reply, his ears falling flat. He crouches back down to your level, attempting to meet your height. "C'mon, look how nice and soft my fur is," Flaco states as he moves your hand to stroke over his chest, "and look at how my tail wags whenever I look as you!"

You let out a light laugh, peering behind him to admire the wag of his tail. He knows you're concerned, seeing as you're the logical one in this relationship. "I don't want to start petting you until I know how to get you out of this mess," you explain, moving your hand off his chest to wrap the blanket tighter around your shoulders.

"Okay, chiquita," Flaco nods. "You have a think about it," he encourages. Flaco finally puts your pocket mirror away, slipping it into your rucksack, and watches as you begin pondering on your thoughts.

The wolf from yesterday. The scratch on his hand. A curse. A blessing. You're no stranger to reading about werewolves in books, fictional books, fantasy ones, books that aren't real, or aren't meant to be real. Only there's a werewolf crouched beside you, watching in awe as you begin pacing around the room in thought. Flaco tries not to stare, not wanting to overcrowd you, and continues checking his new form out instead.

He gawks down at his frame, coated in a layer of thick, dark hair. His paw pads are soft, squishy, complimented by his long claws, sharp enough to cause some serious damage. Flaco's tail relaxes behind him, but begins softly wagging as he peers over to you, watching you pace and ponder.

You pull the blankets up higher, the edges brushing against your neck, your arms beneath them, cocooned inside with only your feet and head poking out. Flaco's head tilts as he admires how protective you are over him, so concerned for his safety, his future, and his current form. However, his admiration is paused, and Flaco's nose begins to twitch, picking up a scent he's never noticed before.

Flaco begins sniffing the air, his head perked up at the ceiling, eyes falling shut so he can put more focus into the scent that's caught his attention. It seems he's developed heightened senses, and he's putting them to good use.

"Can you smell that?" Flaco questions, but you're too trapped in thought to bother replying. "You smell different," Flaco states, his head now peering down at you, watching as you continue to waddle about his cabin. "Now right now, Flaco," you brush him off, shutting your eyes and rubbing your temples, attempting to find some sort of cure for Flaco's new form. "You smell sweet," he states, and shuffles closer to you, his nose twitching as he presses it to your shoulder. Flaco quickly moves it away, your scent now being covered up by the thick blanket, so he crouches further down, only to be lightly pushed away seconds later. "Flaco," you grumble. His deep eyes meet yours before he dips his head down again. He buries his nuzzle beneath the blanket, and you yelp as a cold, wet nose presses against your knee, swatting him away once more. "You smell slick," Flaco states. There's a huskiness to his voice, a deep and low growl that comes straight from his chest. His eyes meet yours, dark and alluring, peering up at you before disappearing beneath the blanket again. "Flaco!" you grumble again, but Flaco doesn't let you push him away this time. You feel something cold and wet on the inside of your thighs, followed by a gust of wind - Flaco has his nose pressed just below your pussy, and he's inhaling your scent. A large paw wraps itself around your thigh, and Flaco boldly moves his nose up, his wetness now pressed softly on your clit. "You smell like you need me to help you calm down," he states after taking in another deep inhale, before removing himself from under the blanket. Flaco stands tall, his back slightly bent over, gazing down at you with slightly furrowed brows - a natural expression for your partner. The hand on your thigh moves itself to your waist, now pressed over the blanket; his hands have always been big, but this is ridiculous. Flaco could pick you up as if you're nothing, his single paw covering most of your body, making you feel so small and inferior. "I know that tone, Flaco, and I'm not letting you... seduce me right now, not when you're like this," you huff, sending him a glare and gesturing to his body. He laughs. It's deep, a mixture between a growl and a human laugh, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand tall. "C'mon, don't you want to try it?" Flaco questions. "You're just turned into some... dog... and the first thing you want to do is fuck?!" you yelp. "Correction, I've turned into a wolf, a werewolf, and mhmm," he nods. "I do, do you?" Your eyes meet the floor, looking away from the beast towering over you, his thumb now softly stroking over the blanket, attempting to soothe you. You can't deny that you're not curious, but is it wrong? to fuck somebody that's... well, that? He's still Flaco, he's still your partner; only now he's doubled in size, is covered in hair, and has perky ears, a snout, and a tail. "I can sense how curious you are, chiquita. My senses have heightened. I know how you look when you're aroused, but now I can really smell it," Flaco flashes you a toothy grin, dipping his head down to your level as he crouches. He licks your cheek, his rough and damp tongue brushing over your skin, coating most of your face in one stroke. "What was that?!" you cry, and attempt to push his snout away. "A kiss," Flaco states, before licking you again. Ugh, should you be surprised? of course Flaco is going to put all of his new abilities to use. All of them. He moves from your cheek, making his way down to your neck, attempting to kiss the usual spots that you enjoy. "C'mon, we can do doggy style," Flaco urges with a soft laugh, chuckling at his own joke. "You're a menace, you know that, right?" you huff, placing your hands on his large cheeks and moving his head so that he's looking directly at you. "I know," Flaco laughs again. "We can give this a try... but if I say stop, then you stop, alright?" "Oh, come on, you know I'll stop if you tell me to," Flaco shakes his head. He understands that you're after reassurance, concerned with exactly how this is going to go. "Flaco promises he'll take care of you," he says with a wag of his tail. "...and don't start howling," you order. Flaco laughs again, giving you another cheek kiss between his chuckle. "Okay, no howling. Flaco promises," he giggles, and begins urging you over to the bed.

Flaco's gentle as he slips the blanket from your shoulders, letting it fall back onto the bed. He attempts to kiss your neck again, running his tongue over your skin, resisting the urge to attempt giving you a hickey. The last thing that he ever wants to do is hurt you, so he's being extra cautious in his new form; his claws are sharp, his teeth even sharper, not to mention his intimidating size and figure. But his eyes remain soft, a deep brown, the same shade as his 'normal' ones. Those dark eyes meet yours as he climbs on top of you, before shutting them as he nuzzles you. Large paws find their way to your waist, trailing down to your thighs, the rest of his body following after as he shuffles down the bed. The bed is far too small for him, so Flaco pulls you until your legs are dangling over the side, and he settles on the floor, still having to dip his head so that he's in line with your body. His breath is hot, tickling your skin as he dips between your thighs. There's a pause of uncertainty, before Flaco presses his wet nose against your clit. He instantly moves it away, exhaling heavily, and mutters "too much," under his breath. His tail is wagging, thumping against the floor, and you can only assume your scent is making him a little too excited. Flaco dips his head down again, this time letting his tongue fall from his mouth, and licks a firm stripe across your cunt. He peers up to watch your reaction, checking for any signs of discomfort, and since you've shown none he does it again, over and over, both of you getting use to this new sensation. His tongue is rough, but soft, squishy, but firm, the perfect balance between wolf and man. The paws wrapped around your thighs tighten their grip, his claws pressed against your skin, but not digging into you. Over time, Flaco becomes more confident, and begins lapping at your clit, his tongue occasionally slipping into your cunt, making his thick hair tickle the inside of your thighs. He's bigger in every way, his tongue reaching depths that it's never reached before, making you whimper as you finally relax on the bed. Flaco's ears perk up, overhearing your positive reaction, reassuring him that he's doing well. His licks become firmer, longer, wetter, more open mouthed; unintentionally Flaco's fangs begin to trail over your skin, light enough that he's not hurting you, or even realizing what he's doing. However, you're definitely aware; it's a strange sensation, having a set of sharp teeth almost nibble at your lower stomach, often trailing up to your bellybutton whenever Flaco opens his mouth wider, pushing his tongue deeper into your cunt. "F-Flaco, that's..." you stutter, your head still pressed to the bed. "Huh?" Flaco hums. He slips his tongue from you, resting his chin on your stomach, worried that he's accidentally hurt you. "Your teeth, they're..." "Sharp?" "Uh-huh, but they're... it's uh... they feel nice," you manage to stutter. Flaco bites back a laugh. He licks his chops, your taste heavy on his tongue and around his mouth, and dips his head back down to lap at your cunt again. "Oh, so you do like it when this big, bad wolf has his jaws wrapped around you?" Flaco teases, ensuring that his teeth continue to trail over your skin in between kisses. "Yeah..." you shyly confirm, and let out a soft yelp as Flaco dips his tongue into your cunt again. He removes one of his paws from your thighs, going to slip a finger into you, but stops in his tracks. "Mhm," Flaco grumbles, realizing that his claws are far too sharp to be risking that. "Hey, finger yourself for me," Flaco orders, and grins when you readjust your position, reaching down and beginning to work yourself open. You dive straight in with two fingers, seeing as Flaco's thick tongue already counts as one, possibly more. He watches for a few moments, admiring how flustered you look, before dipping his head between your thighs again. You know what's going to happen, but since Flaco is crouched down on the floor, his body bent over, you're unable to see what he looks like. Is his cock... normal? it must be bigger, surely? seeing as he's doubled in size. You decide to prepare yourself for the worst, or the best, you'll just have to wait and see. You begin to scissor yourself, attempting to loosen your cunt up as much as possible. Flaco takes up the opportunity, and dips his tongue into your pussy, slipping it between your fingers, and runs it along your soft, velvet walls. The noise you let out can only be described as a bitch in heat, a whine, calling out for Flaco to come and fill you up. "You can fit another," he urges, and lets out a soft sigh when you slip a third finger in. "Good girl," Flaco praises, and you assume the thumping you can overhear is his tail wagging against the floor again. Yet again, you attempt to scissor yourself, and within time you're certain you could fit a fourth finger in... but what about fitting Flaco? Hm, you'll find out eventually. You're getting there, slowly but surely; Flaco's spit and slobber is slick enough to help stretch you open, and he graces you with even more as he slides his tongue into your pussy again. Flacos hand disappears from your thigh, dipping down between his own legs, and you know he's touching himself. Nervously, you ask an important question "Flaco, how big are you?" "Big," Flaco blankly states, chuckling as he removes his tongue. "D-Do you think it'll fit?" you question. "I guess we'll just have to find out, eh?" he laughs. "Do you think you're ready? you look it," he comments, and moves his head back down to press his wet nose directly on your clit, his ears perking upright and his tail wagging even faster. "You smell it, too," he grins, flashing his fangs. "Yeah... Okay, I'm ready," you nod.

And with that, Flaco's up on his feet, crawling on top of you on the bed. He wolfhandles you, moving you up to the centre, giving himself enough room to join you. Flaco's grinning, and places a soft lick-kiss to your cheek before sitting back on his knees, finally showing you what's between his legs. Liar. There's no way he's going to fit. "What the-" you stutter, sitting upright and reaching out. Your hand alone is nothing compared to his cock, and even as you wrap both hands around it, there's still some untouched space left over. "Flaco, there's no way this is going to fit," you sigh, comparing his cock against your forearm. Flaco laughs. "It will, Flaco promises," he nods. "You've just gotta relax and let me take the lead, okay?" "Okay, but I-" "-Shh," Flaco hushes. "Stop doubting yourself, we both know you can fit me," he reassures, and presses his paw to your chest, lightly pushing you back down against the bed. The paw on your chest moves to your thigh, holding you steady, and his other hovers by his cock. You watch as Flaco spits on his cock- no, he dribbles on it, letting thick strings of spit coat his length, falling from his jaw, and then pumps himself a few times, ensuring he's generously slick. He moves his hand to the bed, just above your head, and uses the other to hold his length steady as he begins pushing into you. You lie there awkwardly, feeling the tip of his thick cock rub against your entrance, unable to slide in. Flaco begins to grumble, his tail no longer wagging, and his brows furrowing. He dribbles again, being far too generous and soaking your cunt, but it's enough to help ease in the head of his cock. You yelp and begin hissing, unintentionally tightening up around the tip of Flaco's cock. He's thick, unbelievably thick, and you're starting to question your life choices. "Relax," Flaco orders. He dips his head down to your level, placing a wet kiss to your cheek, and grumbles "relax," softly against your ear. Deep breaths. It's not that bad, honestly; once you begin untensing and calming down, you realize he's surprisingly snug, stretching your pussy in a way that makes you shiver, and your reaction came from fear, not his size. "Good girl," Flaco says as he licks your cheek again. "You let me know when you're ready for more." You take your time, relaxing your walls, unclenching them around Flaco's length. Finally, you give him a nod, and he begins sliding into you. There's a slight burn as he stretches you out, his cock getting thicker the deeper it goes, and he comes to a halt just past halfway. There's a knot to your stomach, a tight one, and you can feel the tip of his cock hitting your cervix. "How is this? okay?" Flaco double checks, straightening his back and talking down to you. "Y-yeah, it's okay," you nod. Once again, you're struggling to relax, so you calm yourself by rubbing quick circles on your clit, along with taking deep breaths. "Too big for you, eh?" Flaco chuckles. "Of course you're too big, Flaco." "Give it time, you'll warm up to me eventually," he shrugs, cockily grinning as he talks. Flaco's patient, waiting for you to ask for more, and when you do finally ask, he happily delivers it. He continues sliding in slowly, and your eyes go wide once you feel his fur press against your clit. "You fit?" you question, shuffling up on your elbows to peer down between your legs, instantly noticing the bulge to your stomach. "Mhm," Flaco nods, "I told you I would. Now we've just gotta see if you can keep up," he smirks.

Flaco takes a hold of your legs, lifting them up and wrapping them around his waist, your ankles barely crossing over behind his back. He bends forward, his body towering over yours; one paw stays wrapped around your thigh, whilst the holds his weight up, placed above your head. Your knees hit your shoulders, practically bent in half, and you're about to ask why Flaco's wolfhandled you into this position, but he begins thrusting.

His patience has worn thin, and Flaco jumps straight in with a quickened pace, forcing you to yelp beneath him. The new position makes sense, as he's able to really drive his cock deep inside you, smacking your cervix with every thrust, turning both pairs of your cheeks red. "You are tight, aren't you?" Flaco smugly comments, flashing his fangs as he licks your cheek again, his attempt of a kiss.

All you manage to do is nod, unable to process words, let alone thoughts. You begin rubbing your clit again, whining beneath Flaco, whimpering as he fucks you, the sound of skin against skin echoing around the cabin. "You sound like you need me to fill you up," Flaco states. He lets out a deep breath before saying "and it smells like you need it too."

"Y-yeah, I do," you stutter, nodding at the same time.

"All in good time, loba."

Flaco picks up his pace, mercilessly slamming his cock into you; his ears perk up at the sounds you're making, moans and mewls, and Flaco can't help but let out a choked whine, intoxicated by every part of you. He soon begins softly panting, slowly over-working himself from the fast pace, but Flaco's stubborn to the point that he won't slow down, not until you're overflowing with his load.

There's still a slight burn to your cunt, and you'd be lying if you said it didn't feel strangely good. Flaco's knot is threatening to slip inside you; it's wider than the rest of his cock, but only slightly, and you're certain that within time, it'll slip in. How big do those things get? There's only so much that you can, and now that you've taken this much, far more than you ever thought you'd be able to handle, you're uncertain on where your new limit lies.

You tighten your legs around Flaco's waist, feeling your orgasm slowly approaching, your clit rubbing so fast that your wrist is starting to ache. You attempt to grip onto Flaco's arm with your spare hand, but Flaco swats your hand away, and pins it down to the bed, his large paw wrapping around your wrist, feeling so dainty in his grasp.

"You're going to cum for me soon, aren't you?" Flaco questions, speaking directly into your ear.

"Uh-huh," you manage to nod.

"Good girl. Go on, I want to feel how tight you get around me," he orders.

Should you feel this good? being mercilessly fucked by your werewolf partner, whimpering and whining in his grap, your orgasm threatening to hit at any moment. You've always felt small beneath Flaco, but this is taking things to a whole new level; he's towering over you, folding your body in half, your knees pressed firmly against your shoulders. Flaco shifts his weight, planting his feet on the bed and bending his legs, bucking his hips down against yours. He whimpers at the slight change of position, and both of you let out a choked moan as Flaco's knot finally slips into you.

The sensation of being full to the brim - overly full - causes you to cum. Your wrist is burning from being over-worked, and you clench tightly around Flaco's cock, panting and sighing as your body begins to tremble. Your orgasm catches Flaco off guard, letting out a choked moan as you squeeze his cock, milking him for all he's worth as he joins your high. Flaco cums, and he doesn't seem to stop cumming, fucking his load into you, hoards of it over-flowing and spilling from your pussy, dripping down over your ass and onto the bed.

His tail is wagging in the air, your knees are pressed right against your shoulders, and Flaco won't stop thrusting, over-stimulating both of you. Eventually, he's forced to stop, his cock buried deep inside you as his knot begins to flair up. "Mierda," Flaco yelps, tugging on it; he instantly stops when you yelp in pain, and mutters another string of swears under his breath.

"I didn't think it would do that," Flaco confesses. He sits back on his knees, not bothered by his mess on the bed, and gawks down at the sight of his swollen cock buried inside you, a visible bulge to your stomach. "Are you okay? does it hurt?"

"Not really," you shake your head; you're still trembling, catching your breath, barely able to keep your eyes open. There's a slight burn to Flaco's knot, but you've been stretched to a point that your body seemed to be expecting it, and thankfully, it's oddly sensual, similar to whenever you've cock warmed him, only on a larger scale. "It's uh, strange, but it doesn't hurt. Just don't tug on it..."

"Good," he sighs.

Flaco asks you to wrap your arms around his neck, clinging onto him as he shuffles about on the bed, finding a comfortable position for you both. He kicks off the dirty cover after using some salvageable parts to clean both of you up, and thankfully, Flaco's warm, warm enough to keep you cosy throughout the night, and you feel even warmer as he wraps his arm around your waist, your head resting on his chest.

"What did you think of that, huh?" Flaco eventually questions.

"It was... something," you sigh, unable to find the exact words.

"Oh. Did you not enjoy it?" he whines, perking his head up to peer down at you.

"No, no! I enjoyed it... a lot... too much," you sheepishly reply. "And I think you enjoyed it too," you tease, tensing your walls, giving his knotted cock a squeeze.

"Don't do that," Flaco whimpers, his ears falling back, "you'll get me worked up again."

Is that a bad thing?" you raise a brow, and Flaco chuckles at your eagerness.

"Hey, earlier on you were too nervous to try it, and now you're asking for me to fill you up again?" he laughs, trailing his paws tenderly over your back.

"You did spill most if it," you shrug, and Flaco rolls his eyes at your comment.

"How about I wake you up with a morning surprise? once this swelling has gone down. We didn't do doggy, so I think we need to make up for that?" he offers. Flaco smirks when you nod in agreement; if you had a tail, it would also be wagging.

He places another kiss to your cheek, but this time uses his nose rather than his tongue. Flaco's head rolls back onto the bed, his chest rising and falling slowly, his arms wrapped around you, acting as a blanket. His cock is still swollen, but it's strangely soothing; it's practically the same as falling asleep whilst cock warming, something that you two have done many times before.

And you won't be surprised when Flaco wakes you up how he usually does, with slow and deep thrusts, and soft coos of praise and affection.

[noladyme]

La Cuervo - Chapter 22

She is used to the biker-life, having grown into a woman in the familiar embrace of SAMCRO. A bad decision and a gun-shot later, she gets whisked off to Santo Padre, and put under the protection of another club. What is supposed to be a short stint in the Mayan headquarters just north of the border to Mexico, turns into something more; when la quervo begins to develop feelings for el angel - and he seems to return them in kind...

TW: violence, blood, drug use, alcohol, smut, fluff, angst

In the spirit of "The Crown Princess of Charming", this is a story about O.C. Nina and Angel Reyes. It is obviously non-canon, as characters who have passed on, on Mayans M.C., are present in it, and others have been excluded completely. Nina is written as a cis-female, but I have tried to keep her race and looks as ambiguous as possible. Should you find any of this story offensive, please let me know.

22.

They didn’t speak much in the morning. For once, Angel had decided to set an alarm, and more or less jumped out of bed, the moment his phone began buzzing. His mind seemed as focused as professional soldier’s; and he made even the actual veteran – Coco – seem relaxed in comparison. It had rained during the night, and the air smelled fresh; but didn’t lighten Nina’s mood, as she sat smoking a cigarette on the porch, while the two men packed up Coco’s extra guns. EZ showed up in the van, with Letty and Gaby in the passenger seats. Angel helped Nina in to the seat Letty had previously occupied. The teenager got on her dad’s bike with him, before they all began driving down the street.

Gaby looked worriedly at Nina, as she sat between EZ and her. “Are you alright?”, she asked quietly. “Ezekiel told me what happened…”. “I’m… I don’t know”, Nina muttered. She cleared her throat, wanting to think about anything else than the pain currently surging in her leg. “Are youok? Have you gone on lockdown before?”. “No”, Gabriella said. “This is all very new to me”. “How do they do it up north?”, EZ asked Nina. “I don’t think it’s different than here”, Nina said. EZ frowned, making her question his experience with situations like this as well. “You’ve never done this before either, have you…?”. “No…”, EZ admitted. “It’s never been necessary”. “It’ll be fine”, Nina said, trying to convince herself as well as the two lockdown debutants. “We just have to keep our heads low, and the gates locked… Is your pap’ coming?”. “He says he can protect himself…”, EZ muttered. “But he’ll be by later with the meat he was bringing for the party anyway”. “I’ll try to get him to stay”, Nina said. EZ gave her a thankful smile.

When they arrived at Angel’s place – her place, as Nina reminded herself – the others waited by the vehicles, while she and Angel went inside to gather what they needed. Nina hobbled through the living room, as Angel began closing the windows, after the exterminator visit. Once in the bedroom, Nina began packing some clothes and essentials. She went to get her gun, but remembered that Camille had used it; and that the police probably had taken it for evidence. “Fuck!”, she exclaimed. “What?”, Angel asked, coming running into the bedroom. “My gun… It was the one Camille… It has my prints all over it!”. “EZ told the cops you fought her for it, so the prints shouldn’t be an issue”, Angel said, his voice relieved that he hadn’t found her in trouble. “Is it registered?”. “No, and the serial is filed off… I did grow up with SAMCRO”, Nina grunted. She sighed heavily, and sat down on the bed, to get some weight off her leg. “Is there enough first-aid stuff at the clubhouse?”. “Why?”, Angel asked. Nina shot him a hard look. “You know why”, she replied. “We’re also gonna need a couple of pre-paids in case of emergencies… We’ve got food and drinks, because we were getting ready for the party… I wish there was a proper kitchen, though… And extra guns. Anyone who can shoot should be carrying…”.

Angel crouched in front of her, and took her hands in his own. “Breathe, mami… We got this, ok? You don’t have to worry”. “Well, I am fucking worried!”, Nina growled. “If Bishop had an old lady, it would be her responsibility to keep the people in the clubhouse comfortable. Now I have to…”. “You know what you’re doing… I hear you had a good teacher”, Angel smiled. “Teller’s mom, right? She was good queen…”. “Yeah… most of the time”, Nina muttered. She still felt ambivalent about how Gemma had fulfilled her duties; mainly due to how she’d ended her reign by breaking Jax’s heart, and killing his wife. She’d also been a good friend and surrogate aunt, though; at least in the beginning. “Just do what you always do. We’ll take care of the rest”. “Yeah… You’re gonna go get fucking murdered, while I serve potato-salad to scared hangarounds…”. Angel leaned forward, and caught her lips in a warm kiss. “I’m coming back to you”, he said. “Promise me…”, Nina said. He placed her hand on his chest, just above his heart. “I swear, cuervo…”. He kissed her again, and got to his feet. “I’m gonna go get my extra hardware. Do you remember where I put the Beretta?”. “You can’t remember where you put your guns?”. “Some of them are kinda small… They get lost”, he muttered. Nina rolled her eyes. “Behind the toilet-rolls in the cabinet under the bathroom sink”, she sighed.

Angel left the room, and Nina got to her feet again; leaning against her crutches. “What the fuck?”, Angel yelled. Nina hobbled after him as quickly as she could. “What’s wrong?”, she asked, and tried to look out from behind him, as he stood in the doorway. “What the hell is that?”, Angel said, and pointed at something skinny and furry; cowering in the corner of the shower. Nina gasped, and pushed past him. “Don’t…! It’s just a poor kitty”, she said. Limping slowly forwards, she got to her knees in front of the shaking tabby. “Hey bug…”, she cooed, and stretched out her hand. The cat hissed, before leaning its head forwards to sniff her. “Get the fuck out!”, Angel growled, and took a threatening step forward. “Stop it! You’re scaring it…”, Nina said.

The cat hissed again, but Nina kept her hand out; and after a few moments, it stepped forward, and blinked slowly at her, before pushing its forehead against her hand. It was missing part of its left ear, and from the looks of its pronounced hipbones, it was clear it hadn’t had a proper meal in quite a while. The skin was sagging off it, and bellow its belly. “It’s a stray… Probably has all sorts of diseases”, Angel grunted. “It probably jumped through the window to get out of the rain”, Nina said, ignoring Angel’s displeased tone. “Do we have anything for it to eat?”. “No”, Angel said coldly, and walked over to grab the cat. “I’ll throw it outside. Close the window, so it doesn’t come back in”. Nina looked hard at him. “No!”, she said. “It needs food and care…”. “Nina…”. “You said we could get a cat!”. “Not this one!”, Angel declared. “We can go to a shelter or something. Get a kitten. I’m not taking in some old, ratched…”. His words drowned in Nina’s exclamations of aww, as the tabby once again pressed its head against her hand, and let her scratch it behind its ears. “Angel… Look at him…!”. “How do you know it’s a he?”, Angel grunted. “I’d think you’d recognize a pair of balls when you saw them”, Nina chuckled. The cat stroked its entire body against her thigh. “Such a good bug… That’s your name, isn’t it…? Bug…”.

Angel groaned loudly, and shook his head. “We gotta go”. Nina was lost in cuddling her new friend. “Mami… Nina! We gotta hit the road… Look, we’ll keep the window open. If it’s still here when we come back, we’ll talk about it”. “Please, just put out some food for him…”, Nina pleaded. “But then he’ll stay for sure!”. “Yeah…”. She shot out her lower lip in a pout, and looked pleadingly at Angel. The biker groaned again, and left the bathroom for a few moments, before returning with an open tin of tuna. He dropped it on the floor. “Here… eat, cat”, he grunted. “His name is Bug”, Nina said with a chiding tone. Angel put his arms under hers, and raised her to her feet. “Fine. Bug. Let’s go”, he muttered, and led her out of the bathroom.

At the last second, Nina grabbed Jax’s helmet. She wasn’t planning on riding on the back of any bikes any time soon, due to her leg; but she felt naked without it near her.

EZ met them by the front door, as they were on their way out. “Bro, what took so long?”. “We were adopting a cat”, Angel said. “A cat?”, EZ asked. “His name is Bug…”, Angel replied. “Don’t ask”. Nina smirked, and tugged at his cut, to get him to lean down for a kiss; before they went back to the van.

---

The yard was crowded with bikes when they finally arrived. Bishop and Hank met them on the porch; and Nina was reminded of Taza’s decision to tell the club his secret, the day before. Not seeing him next to the president, made a knot form in her stomach. “What the fuck took you so long?”, Bishop growled. “Cats… bugs…”, Angel muttered. “Don’t ask”, EZ chuckled.

Angel helped Nina up the stairs to the clubhouse. Once inside, they were greeted by the rest of the Mayans, and a few bikers from the Oakland charter. Nina recognized them from SAMCRO parties, but didn’t know any of their names, save Alvarez’s. El Padrino himself gave her a polite nod from his seat by the bar. She scanned the room for Taza, and frowned when she realized he wasn’t inside either. Angel put a hand on her hip. “Go sit down”, he muttered, and went over to talk to Gilly. Chucky pulled out a chair for her, and Nina sat down; soon joined by Letty and Gaby – the latter looking quite uncomfortable with the situation. EZ squeezed her shoulder comfortingly, before going to stand by the wall, behind Bishop. Chucky went outside, to keep an eye on the gate.

Most of the hangarounds Nina knew from around the clubhouse was spread throughout the room. There was a group of women Nina had not met before, stood around a striking middle-aged woman, who looked like Riz. Nina decided she was probably Vicky, and that the women were employees at the brothel. Vicky gave her a curious look, as if challenging her to have a bad opinion of them. Nina simply smiled friendlily; and Vicky’s expression softened, before she nodded in greeting.

Gilly came over to Nina, and handed her a small plastic bag, with white pills. “Oxys”, he muttered. “For your leg”. “Thanks…”, Nina said. Gilly winked at her, and slipped away.

“You know why we’re here”, Bishop said; lifting his voice to catch the attention of the people in the room. “We have a rival club moving in on our territory. Vatos Malditos have been coming for our business, by trying to convince a long-time partner to end our relationship with them; in return for what they claim is a better deal. They even put a rat in our midst; a rat that ended up seriously hurting a member of our family, while trying to kill her”. There was a murmur of curses. Bishop raised his hand to quiet everyone down. “We have to answer this disrespect with force… You’re all here because you’re a part of the family, and because we don’t want anyone else to get hurt. We don’t know that VM won’t send a few guys this way; but as long as you stay within the fences, you’ll be safe”. Hank stepped forward, apparently the de facto VP. “We have the Sons of Anarchy coming down from San Bernadino and Charming. Creeper will stay behind here with a few Sons, for your protection”, he said. Creeper didn’t seem happy about the fact that he wasn’t going with his brothers. He’d probably lost a draw for the post. “If you have any security questions, take it up with him”. “Anything to do with provisions or comfort, you go to our den-mother”, Bishop said, and gestured towards Nina. “Nina isn’t very mobile at the moment, but she can point you in the direction of what you need. She knows this place like her back hand”. Angel shot her a warm smile, and she felt her cheeks burn in embarrassment.

Chucky came running in to the clubhouse. “They’re here”, he grinned. A roar of bikes came from the yard, and soon after, Filip stepped inside, followed by Les Packer. Happy, Rat and Tig came in behind them, and Nina saw a group of SAMDINO Sons waiting outside by the bikes. The room was getting crowded. Foregoing custom, Filip strode over to Nina, and pulled her up into his arms. “We didn’t send you back to get shot, luv’”, he said. “I’m ok”, Nina muttered; then winced, when she accidentally put weight on her bad leg. “Fuck’s sake…”, Filip growled. Angel sprang over to support Nina as she got back to her seat. Happy and Tig stepped over to kiss her forehead and squeeze her shoulder, and Rat gave her a shy smile, before they all went to greet Bishop and Alvarez.

After the obligatory back and forth between the patches, Filip, Alvarez and Bishop went into templo, to speak in private for a few moments. Angel headed over to the bar to grab a drink for himself and Nina. While he was gone, Packer came over to greet Nina. He bent down, and gave her a gentle hug. “How are you doing, Neens?”, he asked, and sat down next to her. “I’m alive”, she shrugged with a half-smile. “This is a new setup for you, sweetcheeks”, Packer said. “You comfortable here?”. “Yeah… why?”. “I dunno… You could have been happy in Berdoo as well”, Packer teased. Angel came back with a mug of coffee for Nina, and a beer for himself. “I like the accommodations here”, she smiled, and looked at Angel. “Yeah, I heard…”, Packer said, and raised a brow at the Mayan. “You’d probably have to deal with less gun-shots though. We’re more careful with who we let in our midst”. “It was a mistake that won’t happen again”, Angel grunted, and gave Packer a hard look. “It better not. This isn’t some random croweater you’ve borrowed from Charming”, Packer said. “No. She’s not”, Angel said. “She’s a Mayan old lady”.

Nina rolled her eyes, and pulled out a cigarette. Both men whipped out a lighter, and raced to light them; before holding them in front of her face. “If you two could stop measuring dicks for a moment, you might notice you’re burning off my eyebrows”, Nina sneered. “Sorry, cuervo”, Angel muttered. Nina gave him a slight smile, and a soft kiss, before letting Packer light her smoke. “You still a crow then?”, the SAMDINO president asked, having noticed Angel’s nickname for her. “I’m still me…”, Nina said. “I’ve just got a bigger family now”. “Good for you”, Packer said, and took her hand; giving it a gentle squeeze. “Jax would be happy for you… after he kicked this guy’s ass for diddling his baby-sis”. Angel chuckled at this. “Like he threatened to do you, if you tried anything?”, Nina said. “I didn’t know you were only seventeen at the time!”, Packer laughed. “Bullshit. You arrived the day before my eighteenth birthday-party; and sat at the clubhouse the whole night, looking at your watch to wait for midnight, so I’d be legal”, Nina smirked. “Guilty”, Packer shrugged. “Didn’t do me much good, though; did it…? Teller was a hardass when it came to you. I didn’t stand a chance with him watching over you like a hawk”. They shared a knowing laugh, before Packer looked at Angel. “You don’t have anything to worry about, Reyes. I know when to back off”, he said. “And she’d probably cut my balls off, before you got a chance to, if I tried anything… You’ve got a special lady here”. Angel smiled, relaxing a bit in his seat. “I know…”, he said, and kissed Nina’s temple.

Bishop came out of templo, and nodded to the other bikers. Mayans and Sons alike got to their feet, and began moving towards the ornate door. Angel put a hand on the back of Nina’s head, and caught her lips in a warm kiss; before joining the others. Packer gave her a sly wink, and followed Angel. “Prospect. You too”, Bishop called after EZ. Gabriella gave him a worried look, and he slipped over to give her a quick peck on the cheek, before walking in to templo, and closing the door, once everyone was inside.

Nina got on her feet, and hobbled over to sit down next to the girl. Gaby was visibly shaking, and Nina took her hand. “I know this is all really scary; but we’ll be ok”, she said. Having SAMCRO, SAMDINO and the Mayans all in the same house made her believe her own words more than she had thought she would. “But, what if he gets hurt?”, Gaby asked. “I didn’t even tell him…”. “Tell him what?”, Nina said. Gabriella met her eyes, and they gave away the words she’d had trouble saying. “Oh… Well, I think he knows already; but it wouldn’t hurt his courage and desire to come back whole, if you said it…”. Gaby smiled softly. “I suppose you’re right”, she said.

Letty came over to join them, carrying a couple of cokes for her and Gaby. “Are you talking about your boyfriends?”, she smirked. “You guys could become sisters-in-law!”. “Whoa! Angel and I just got a cat. We’re not talking diamond rings yet”, Nina said. “Good. I don’t think he can afford one”, Leticia teased.

---

After about an hour, the bikers emerged from templo with somber expressions. Angel strode over to Nina, and took her hand. “We’re meeting Palo by the east tunnel”, he muttered. “What’s gonna happen?”, Nina asked nervously. Angel sighed. “We’re not giving him what he wants, so we’re prepared for a fight”. Nina shuddered. Knowing it was a lost cause, she hadn’t been able to keep from at least hoping that Filip and the others would be able to talk the Mayans out of full-on war. Their own experience with rival groups, made them well aware of the devastation something like that could bring a club. Stories of Abel’s kidnapping and Half-Sack’s death – both by the hands of a disgruntled IRA-member – and Gemma’s rape and beating by right-wing psychos, should have been enough fodder for the Mayans to decide to back down, and try to find another way out of the situation. “Shit…”, she hissed. “But what about what Taza told you? Can’t you just use that…?”. “The prez’ didn’t even mention it”, Angel muttered. “I don’t know… its like he’s pretending the conversation never took place”. “Where is Taza?”, Nina asked. “I don’t know… He went home last night. At least he said he was going home…”. Nina frowned. “It’ll be ok", Angel tried. “I gotta go clear some details with Bish…”. He squeezed her hand, and slipped away to go speak with his president.

Filip, Tig and Happy came over to take turns hugging her tightly. “We’ve been here before, muffin”, Tig said. “Walk in the park”, Happy muttered. “Rat’s staying behind with one of the SAMDINO-guys. You’ll be safe”. Filip made her sit down, and crouched in front of her. “You know the drill”, he said meaningfully. “We’re coming back. But if we don’t…”. “I know who to call, and in what order…”, Nina muttered. “Be careful“. “You just keep this clubhouse in shape, and have the beers ready for our return", Filip smiled. He pulled out a black handgun, with a dark wooden handle. The distinct SOA A was carved in to the wood, just over the initials, JT. “That .38 only seems to bring you trouble…”, Filip said, and put it in her hand. “I thought you were saving this for Abel…”, Nina croaked. “Jackie didn’t want guns in his boys’ hands… He didn’t want them in yours either, but seeing as things have turned out…”. Nina stuck the gun down the back of her waistband. “Thank you…”. Filip pressed a kiss to her forehead, and the three SAMCRO bikers headed towards the door with Packer.

Angel came back over to say goodbye. “I hate this, Angel”, Nina croaked. “I know, querida… But this is the way it’s gotta be”, Angel said. He gathered her into his arms, making her lean against him. Their lips instantly met in a frenzied kiss; hungrily devouring each other. Nina breathed Angel in, as if it was the last kiss, they’d ever share; and in all honestly, she was afraid that it might be. Brushing her tongue against Angel’s lower lip, he let it meet his own; tasting her, and letting her taste him. “I love you”, Nina whispered. “Te amo”, Angel replied. “I’m coming back”. He pressed a last kiss against her lips.

Nina saw Gaby whisper something in EZ's ear, and he smiled happily at her. After EZ had kissed his love, Angel gave the girl a warm hug. “I’ll make sure he comes back too”, he said, trying for a smile. Gaby nodded, and Nina took her hand, holding it tightly. Coco kissed Letty’s forehead, and muttered something in her ear, before handing her over to Nina; who wrapped her free arm around the teenager. The Mayan gave Nina a half hug, and followed Angel out the door. “They’ll be ok”, Nina said. “But we need to get ready”.

Once the door was closed behind the men heading out, she gave Creeper a look, and the Mayan raised his voice. “Listen up, people. Nina’s got work for you!”. Gaby handed Nina her crutches, and she hobbled into the middle of the room. “We need people to take care of food. The back room is full of provisions; do what you can with it. Felipe will be here later with meat for the grills. I wanna see him when he does…”. Creeper nodded, and a few of the women moved towards the back room. Gabriella joined them, much to Nina’s joy. “You’re free to the bar, but remember why we’re here. Getting wasted isn’t a good idea… Does anyone have medical experience?”. One of the women from Vicky’s place raised her hand. “I’m in nursing school”, she said. “Great”, Nina smiled. “I’m not saying we’ll need it, but I’d like you to set up a first-aid station, in case we do; and the guys are unable to cross the border for the doc”. “Ok… yeah!”, the woman smiled; seemingly proud that she could contribute with something important. Vicky gave Nina a warm smile. “The rest of you, chip in wherever you can. We all have a responsibility to make our stay here as comfortable and safe as possible… That means, don’t flirt with the guys on watch”. Creeper chuckled at this, and patted Rat’s shoulder. They had the first shift, and headed for the door.

Nina blew out a deep breath, and sat back down. Vicky came over with a refill for her mug. “Welcome to the family”, she smiled, and winked at her.

---

The hours dragged by. They had no word from the men in the field, and every time the door opened, Nina’s heart jumped; hoping that her loved ones would walk in.

While Nina sat on her chair, her leg throbbing in pain, making her unable to walk around, Letty paced the floor for the both of them. “If he dies, I’m gonna fucking kill him!”, she growled. “Then I’ll bury him next to Celia, in her dick-shaped hole in the desert!”. “Letty, sit down”, Nina said. “Why?”. “Because your pacing is giving me a headache”. Leticia sat down, and Nina noticed tears forming in her eyes. “We just started being a family… And now he might…”. She couldn’t finish the sentence. Nina took her hands. “Coco is a survivor, and he’s gonna do whatever he can to get back to you”, she said. “You think so?”, Letty muttered. “I know so”, Nina smiled. “Your dad loves you, Letty. He’s not gonna leave you”.

Letty wiped her eyes, just in time for Gaby to come over with two plates filled with deliciousness. “I did what I could with what’s here”, she said. “It looks amazing”, Nina said. “But I’m not really hungry”. “You have to eat, if you’re taking pain-medication”, Gaby enthused. “I’m not… I’m trying to keep a level head”. “Just take a fucking pill, Nina”, Letty sighed. “You’re in so much pain, your face is contorted”. “I’m…”, Nina began, before catching the expression on both girls’ faces. “Fine…”, she said, and dug out a pill from the plastic bag in her pocket; downing it with a sip of coffee.

Gaby gave her as bright a smile as she could manage, and pushed the plate of food towards her. Nina took a few bites, when suddenly the door opened, and Felipe stepped inside. He looked around, making it clear it was the first time he’d actually been inside the clubhouse. He frowned slightly, and walked over to Nina. “That guy you call Freak said you wanted to talk to me”, he said. “Creeper”, Nina smiled. “Sure", Felipe said. “Letty, will you help me get the meat?”, Gaby said, and the two girls went out the door. “Please sit. I can’t really stand right now", Nina said. Felipe took the chair just around the corner of the table from her. “I need to get back to the shop…”, he muttered. “You can’t take the day off?”, Nina asked. “The weekend is coming up”, Felipe grunted. “People have family coming for dinner…”. “You’re family”, Nina said. “To these people?”, Felipe asked, and looked at the people in the room. His tone wasn’t disapproving, but he did seem uncomfortable at the view of the scantily clad hangarounds setting up drinks and food; and the nursing student, who was currently preparing bandages, while wearing a barely-there tube top, and a short denim skirt. “To me…”, Nina said, and took Felipe’s hand. “To Gaby…”. They both looked towards Gabriella, who sent them a warm smile, as she came through the door with a container of what looked like steaks.

Felipe sighed deeply. “I told EZ and Angel, I can protect myself”, he said. “Then… stay here and protect us as well”, Nina said. “We don’t know what’s happening out there. It’s dangerous for all of us to be out in the open. Angel and EZ might…”. She chewed her lips and swallowed thickly, trying to suppress tears. “Please stay here with us, suegro”. A smile ghosted Felipe’s lips. “That’s where we’re at, then?”, he said. “You and Angel, I mean”. “I’m… I love him. I really do”. Felipe chuckled. “He’s lucky to have you”, he said. He shot a look at the food prepping station, and rolled his eyes. “Gabriella, lo estás tallando de la manera incorrecta! I told you; follow the bone… Never mind, I’ll show you”. The old butcher got to his feet, and went to take over the carving of the meat. Nina let out a relieved sigh. Felipe was staying.

Needing to get some air, she got to her feet, and used her crutches to move towards the door. A smiling hangaround sprang over to open it for her, and Nina thanked her quietly; before stepping outside. The sky was grey. Apparently, the rain the night before was coming back; she could smell it on the air. She sat down on one of the chairs on the porch, and dug out her cigarettes. Opening the packet, she saw that Coco must have done a reverse pickpocketing when he hugged her; as he’d left her a perfectly rolled joint. She smiled to herself, and considered lighting up; before deciding against it. The oxy was already doing its work, and her leg felt better by the minute. Lighting a cigarette instead, she took a deep huff. The yard was too quiet. The windchimes hung next to the door of the clubhouse, which were usually deafened by the usual sounds of metal screeching and bikes roaring, was all she could hear.

Pulling out Jackson’s gun, she took a deep breath, and closed her eyes. She ran her thumb over the letters he’d carved in to the handle. “I remember when you did this”, she said quietly. “Back when you were still stupid enough to think you were immortal…”.

… “What if you lose it? The police will track you down, dumbass!”, Nina said. “I’ll be fine, darlin’”, Jax said, grinning brightly. “Besides, I gotta leave my mark on this world somehow!”. Nina rolled her eyes at him, and picked her book up. “You’re gonna shoot someone, and they’ll track the gun to you”, she growled. Jax chuckled, and stuck the gun down the front of his waistband. “If you don’t shoot your dick off, first”, she muttered. He frowned, and put the gun in the back of his jeans instead. “What are you reading? Teenage-vampire shit?”, he asked. “Screw you… It’s Hamlet. For school”. “O, what a rogue and peasant slave am I!”, Jax exclaimed. Nina couldn’t help but smile. “Careful with that gun, or you’ll have me saying: Goodnight, sweet prince, and flights of angels sing thee to thy rest…”. Jax got to his feet, and headed towards the ladder going down from the roof. “We’re meeting up with some Mexican guys… They need our help with something”, he said. “Finish your homework, little sister. We gotta keep your ass out of CaraCara”. He stopped dead in his tracks, and walked back to her, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead. “Doubt thou the stars are fire; Doubt that the sun doth move; Doubt truth to be a liar; But never doubt I love”. “I love you too… But you’re still a dumbass”, Nina smiled…

“I wish you were here…”, she whispered. “But where ever you are – if there’s anything you can do to keep him safe… all of them… Please”.

She jolted in her seat, when Creeper appeared next to her, a phone in hand. “It’s for you”, he muttered. Nina took the phone, and put it to her ear. Creeper gave her frowning and confused look, before walking into the clubhouse, leaving her alone. “Hello?”. “Nina?”. “Taza?”. “Yeah, it’s me; sweetheart… Do you wanna help me end this war before it starts?”.

---

If you’ve followed this story this far, thank you! Also; It’s my birthday! Make it an even better one, by leaving a comment.

- no lady

tags: @cole-winchester @doloreschanal

[lem-20]

Frustrations

Summary: Frustrated that Ethan won't let their relationship develop, will MC find some time alone with Bryce too much of a temptation? Rewrite of Bk 1 Ch 11 Bryce scene.

Book/Pairing: Open Heart/Bryce x MC / Ethan x MC (Cecilia Gibson)

Category/Rating: Smut/Explicit

Word Count: 1.7k

Authors notes: I thought I'd try something a bit different for this fic. I had an idea in mind, but I'm not sure if it has come out as I'd hoped 🤣

I have included this weeks @wackydrabbles prompt Hold still

Also inspired by @choicesmonthlychallenge prompt Day 18: Waiting

Characters and some dialogue owned by pixelberry

Cecilia never meant to fall for Ethan Ramsey.

She had always admired his work and had been hugely inspired by him, but a romantic relationship wasn't something that had ever crossed her mind - she hadn't even known what he looked like before her first day at Edenbrook.

When she first met him his condescending behaviour had actually led her to think that he was a bit of an asshole - admittedly she didn't realise it was him at that point, but he definitely hadn't left a good first impression.

It didn't take long for her opinion of him to change though. Working together when Dolores came in and then trying to help Naveen had brought them much closer together than either of them could have imagined. What was blossoming between them certainly wasn't a normal attending/intern relationship.

When they finally kissed in Miami, she'd hoped that it would be the start of something between them. They had got so close to ending up in bed together—something she had been fantasising about for some time—but Ethan had stopped things going any further and she had been feeling frustrated ever since.

A few days after returning from Miami, she had questioned Ethan about what was happening between them.

"Be honest...about us," she said.

"I'm...not sure what you mean," he replied, avoiding her eyes.

"I think you know exactly what I mean."

He turned his back to her and she walked up close behind him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Please Cecilia, this is hard enough already."

"Then why keep fighting it? We both want this. We both feel this. It almost seems inevitable..."

He turned to her, his eyes filled with longing...and pain.

Reaching up, he gently stroked her cheek. "We're doctors, Cecilia. Fighting the inevitable is our job description."

Without another word he walked past her and out of the lab. She hung her head—her heart sinking—as the sound of his footsteps faded away.

She couldn't deny the hurt she felt. Even though part of her understood his reasoning, she couldn't just pretend there wasn't a connection between them.

---

Several nights later Cecilia was at home in her apartment researching Rhodes disease for Mrs Martinez. Her friends had volunteered to help and several hours had passed when her reading was interrupted by snoring. She looked up to see that everyone had fallen asleep, except for Bryce.

"And then there were two," he smiled before looking back down at his research. "Wait a second...Cecilia, come look at this."

"What'd you find?" she asked, taking a seat next to him.

"Wound up on a message board. Looks like a pissed off employee leaked some old R&D memos from Panacea Labs...Check it out. It says a drug used for Huntington's cured some test subjects of Rhodes disease."

"If they've found a cure...why isn't it on the market?"

"This is pretty recent...Human trails can take years before a new drug gets F.D.A approval."

"Bryce, you found the answer!" Overwhelmed with excitement, she threw her arms around him and he hugged her back tightly.

The hug lingered and she feel reluctant to let go of him...

"I dunno about you, but I feel like celebrating," he whispered.

She looked into his eager eyes, knowing exactly how he wanted to celebrate.

If she went along with this she knew she may end up regretting it. Her feelings for Ethan were undeniable and there was definitely more to it than just a sexual attraction. But their interactions over the past few weeks had left her so confused and sexually frustrated that she was seriously considering taking Bryce up on his offer. She didn't know if Ethan would even allow anything to happen between them in the future and she couldn't wait around for him forever.

It wasn't as though Bryce was a random stranger. He was a good guy...kind...sexy. They had already been physical with each other before—after her housewarming party—so she knew he could definitely help release some of her frustrations there and then.

She gave him a smirk as she made her decision.

She grabbed Bryce's hand and led him to the bathroom. They bumped hard into the door as she pulled him in for a passionate kiss.

"Shh, don't wake the others up."

"I'm not the one you're gonna have to worry about," he teased.

He pinned her against the closed bathroom door and kissed her, while she pulled off his shirt.

His strong hands roamed her body, gliding under her clothes, trying to feel every part of her.

"Pent up much?"

"I'm always pent up when I see you," he replied.

She could feel the blush reaching her cheeks.

"Before we go any further, you should know...we have to keep this casual."

She knew this probably didn't need to be said, Bryce was a casual sort of guy, but she didn't need any extra drama in her life right now.

"No strings...fine by me," he grinned, pulling her clothes over her head.

She kissed up his neck and across his smooth jawline as she undid his trousers and pushed them to the ground.

She snapped the band of his underwear with a cheeky smile before sliding her hands beneath the fabric.

"I really don't need to keep those on," he whispered.

She kissed his chest as she slid his underpants down, her fingers brushing against him.

"Agreed..."

The sight of him standing to attention for her was a massive turn on.

She kissed him again as she took hold of him, enjoying the way his breath stopped and started as she pumped his length.

"Who has magic hands now?"

"You're giving me a run for my money," he replied before pulling her bra down and kissing and licking his way across her breasts.

A moan was the only sound she could make as a shiver ran throughout her entire body.

"How 'bout we have some good clean fun," he said pushing her backwards, guiding her toward the shower.

She turned to step in.

"Wait, hold still, "he grabbed her hand to stop her. "Before we get in, I want to get a proper look at you."

He spun her back to face him, before looking her up and down—eyes filled with lust.

"You're gorgeous," he stated while flashing her a grin.

She couldn't help but giggle. "You're quite the charmer Lahela."

Continuing into the shower, Bryce gently pushed her against the shower wall, turning on the tap. Warm water poured down on them as he kissed her, his hands exploring her body.

She returned the favour, running her hands over his slippery muscles.

Bryce reached between her legs and began to move his fingers, slowly but surely. She let out a moan.

"I told you I wasn't the one you had to worry about making noise..."

"I don't think I care anymore..."

She leaned her head against the shower wall and sighed as Bryce's hands worked their magic, circling round her most sensitive part. His lips traced across her collarbone as he dipped a finger inside her.

Her breathing grew heavier as he added another finger.

"Bryce...I need more..."

He gripped her by the back of the thighs and lifted her, pinning her high against the cold tiles.

She sighed with pleasure as she wrapped her legs around his waist and he slid himself inside her.

A whisper of guilt flickered across her mind, but it was too late to take it back now, this was happening and she wanted to enjoy it. It felt too good not to.

She squeezed her eyes shut, forcing any doubts out of her head. Instead concentrating on the sensations, the pleasure.

Bryce moved his lips down her neck, softly sucking and kissing as he went.

For a brief moment her mind took her back to Miami where it was Ethan's lips on her neck, his stubble gently scratching her sensitive skin. She remembered the taste of wine on his tongue as his mouth crashed into hers.

She lifted a hand up and ran it through Bryce's hair, gripping tightly as her pleasure started to build.

He plunged himself deep inside her over and over again and she moved her hand down to his chest, feeling his heart thundering as she neared her climax. Her fingernails clawed into his back as she lost control.

"Yes Eth—, Bryce."

Fuck.

She clung on to him, breathing heavily as he thrust a few more times, until he got his own release.

As she came down from her high she cringed as she recalled the fact she had started calling out Ethan's name while having sex with someone else.

She slowly opened her eyes and looked at Bryce. He smiled at her and kissed her on the lips.

"That was amazing," he said.

"Yeah, it was," she replied through her heavy breathing.

Somehow she seemed to have got away with her slip up. Either he was too wrapped up in the moment to notice or he had decided not to mention it. Either way, she was extremely relieved.

He lowered her back down to the ground and they held each other close for a moment before getting dressed.

Bryce looked at the time, it was 2am.

"I'd better head home if I'm going to get any sleep before work tomorrow."

She grabbed his arm.

"You don't have to go, you could sleep here tonight."

He gave her a little smirk. "I think if I stayed here, you would prove to be way too distracting for either of us to get any sleep."

They both laughed.

"Okay, I'll walk you to the door."

They threw their clothes back on before stepping out into the corridor, where they could talk without waking the others.

"Thank you for tonight Bryce. For the help with the research and the...other thing. I really needed that."

He smiled broadly at her.

"Anytime, Gibson. And I mean it. Any time you need a special release, I'm there. Supply closet, on call room, gym, shower, locker room, your place, my place..."

"Yeah, okay Bryce," she chuckled, playfully pushing him away. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight Sien—, I mean Cecilia."

She tilted her head quizzically and he winked at her before turning to leave. Her eyes widened suddenly with realisation that she hadn't got away with her slip up after all.

Although she felt her face burn with embarrassment, she couldn't help but giggle to herself as she watched him walk down the corridor, before disappearing out of sight.

***

Next part (What is this?)

***

Thank you so much for reading, I really appreciate everyone who takes the time to like, comment and reblog 🥰

***

I only tag those who ask, so please feel free to let me know if you would like to be added to my list 😃

[tigerdrop]

hey uh, any boner potions updates? or potion hcs in general?

i kind of lost interest in it but here ill show u the ~1k words i did before i got gripped by dogboy disease

The thing that one has to understand about Black Mesa is that, as a company, it’s got a plethora of diverse investments. Fingers in a lot of pies. It attracts the brightest minds from a variety of fields, theoretical physics and mixology among them. And, consequently, it falls upon those mixologists’ shoulders to formulate all kinds of new pharmaceuticals to suit those diverse investments. Potions to meet the needs of the modern man: Limb regeneration tinctures. Multi-surface cleaners. Erectile dysfunction treatments. The works, really.

As it happens, Dr. Darnold Pepper’s latest project falls under that last category. Say what you will about it, it’s good work, and there’s a staggering amount of money to be made if Black Mesa can corner the market. So he’s had his nose to the grindstone these past few months, devising experimental formulations and running clinical trials. He takes his job very seriously, and he hasn’t spent all those sleepless nights toiling at the lab for his work to be dismissed as mere boner potions, thank you.

His latest formula seems promising. Animal testing was a marked success, although Darnold has to admit, the last thing anyone wants to see is a horny headcrab. They’ve gotten the clear to move onto the first set of human clinical trials, and, to no one’s surprise, this round has quite a few takers. Part of it stems from the company culture - signs plastered across the Research and Development sector encourage employees to Do Their Part and Contribute To The Team by volunteering as participants in company-sponsored research. On the other hand, the larger part of it isn’t worth discussing in polite company.

This does, unfortunately, make things a bit awkward for him when his latest test subject is none other than one Dr. Tommy Coolatta. Darnold blinks as the man in question walks into his lab, smiling just the same as he always does.

“Ah, hey there, Tommy,” Darnold starts, clearing his throat. “You, uh, you lost? You gotta take a right at that three-way corridor. It can be awful confusing sometimes—”

“Nope! I’m— I’m right where the email told me I should be, I think. Here to do my part for Black Mesa!”

Darnold attempts to straighten the papers he’s got clutched in his hands, but ends up dropping most of them to the floor. He swears as he scrambles to pick them up. “Are you… are you sure you know what you signed up for? The new Powerade flavors were cycled out last week, we’re not running tests for those anymore. There was a— an unexpected side effect, you know, internal blistering, that kind of thing,” he asks from the floor.

“Yeah. I… I heard about that, it seems like a… a real debacle.”

“Huh. And you, uh, you made sure to read all the paperwork before you signed it, right?”

“Uh-huh.” Tommy blinks down at him as he clambers back to his feet.

“Right. Well. Good. You… you go and have a seat over there, alright? Let me get the sample prepared,” Darnold says, gesturing to an examination table. His mouth runs on autopilot, professionalism taking over his higher brain functions. “You’ll be taking 30 mils of our latest formula - about the size of one of those little cups of NyQuil. Now, ah, I can’t make any guarantees about the taste… we’re still refining the formula, though we’re going for a pineapple kind of thing. I’ll be asking for some feedback about the taste and texture.”

He rummages through the mini-fridge at his lab bench, and his hands shake so badly they make the glass vials inside rattle. Why is he even worked up like this? He’s a consummate professional. He’s run these trials time and time again, and managed to maintain a level of clinical distance from every other participant. The fact that Darnold’s, you know, friends with Tommy should have nothing to do with it. Neither should the less-than-professional thoughts he’s entertained about Tommy before. Tamp down those thoughts, he tells himself sternly. He’s done it successfully for the past few years, and he’s not about to compromise his results by thinking about how he’s about to give a medically-induced hard-on to a guy he’s dreamt of holding hands with and stroking the hair of and—

No. No more of that. When Darnold turns back to Tommy, vial in hand, his face is carefully blank. “It’ll take about ten minutes for this to kick in, assuming everything goes as expected. Unlike other drugs of this nature, you shouldn’t need to induce arousal yourself to feel noticeable effects. That’s the edge we’ve got over our competitors,” he rattles off.

“Oh. Neat. Should I, uh, is there anything else I need to do?” Tommy looks at him, clear-eyed and earnest, and Darnold clears his throat.

“Not really. Just sit still so I can observe you and ask some questions. I’ll be monitoring some of your vitals… temperature, blood pressure, that kind of thing.” He doles out Tommy’s dose into a plastic cup and hands it to him. This particular potion’s a murky reddish-purple in color, and it clings to the sides of the glass. The viscosity might be a problem for mass production, but for a batch process, it’s not much of an issue. Darnold makes a note on his clipboard.

Once Tommy downs it, there’s not much to do but sit and wait. Observe. Ask those questions. The flavor’s tangy, almost tart, but doesn’t quite hit those pineapple notes, apparently. Some of the natural flavors must have been degraded in the distillation process. Another note. Texture, “not bad”. Well. Darnold can work with that.

Around the ten-minute mark, Tommy’s face starts to flush, pink high in his cheeks. “Oh,” he starts, uncertain, “I think it’s starting to work!”

“Huh? Oh, good. Great. Right on time. Would you mind describing what you’re feeling right now?”

“It’s, uh, I’m feeling pretty hot under the collar… like it’s a spring morning… in Miami. I could really go for a— a Margarita Monday right now.” He laughs and rubs the back of his neck.

[marvelandimagine]

Tangles

Sentence starter: “Shh, stop fussing. I’m braiding your hair.”

Pairing: Anatoly Ranskahov x reader

Word count: 930

This prompt was cute and then I made it sad #CLASSIC

You're laying on your stomach in bed, immersed in your latest library rental, when you feel Anatoly shift behind you, moving close enough for his hand to stroke your hair softly. He keeps going for a few more seconds and you sigh at the touch, momentarily drawn away from your book in the lull of his tenderness.

Then, you feel a sharp tug at the top of your head.

“Ow! Tolya, the hell are you doing?”

“Shh, stop fussing, солнышко. I am braiding your hair.”

You laugh, baffled by this new development from the Russian prince of thieves.

“You can braid? Did you need some kind of Boy Scouts badge?” You stop. “Wait, does Russia even have Boy Scouts?”

Anatoly chuckles, dropping down to brush his lips against your hair before continuing to work his hands through it. 

“Funny girl. As you would say, that is a hard no.”

“So where’d you learn how to do this?”

Anatoly continues to braid while he remains silent for a few seconds, his response barely above a murmur:

“We had a sister.”

You try to pivot around to face him but he gently turns you back to your original position, your long tresses still in his hands.

“What ... had?”

Anatoly sighs.

“Katina. Our mother had her early, only a few pounds. She got better after, but her immune system was weak. Years later, there was a sickness that spread through the city. We all had it, but her body was not strong enough to fight.”

Your heart sinks, and you’re flooded with sadness for your boyfriend’s loss, for Vladimir’s, for their sibling being ripped away.

“I’m so sorry. How old were you all?”

“She was seven ... so, I was 11 and Volodya, 13.” His voice is flat, but it grows warmer as he strokes the back of your neck. “All done, go see.”

You sit up and leave the mattress, walking across your room to your full-length mirror. You turn to the side to admire Anatoly’s work, pleasantly surprised by the neat Dutch braid.

You slow clap and you can see him smile in the mirror. You bound back to bed, this time landing in his lap to meet his eager mouth with yours.

“Thank you,” you say, your forehead still on his.

He hums in response and you lean back to meet his gaze, taking his hands in your to run your thumbs over the scarred, tattooed flesh. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

He opens his mouth like he’s about to say something but stops, brow furrowing as he shrugs.

“Was not relevant until now.”

You shake your head, your heart aching once more for this man you love, who you know full well has never had the privilege to process the extent of his pain and trauma and grief. Someone just starting to learn how to accept your comfort in it. Pain just was, a steady pulse of the undercurrent in his life.

“It is relevant because I love you and want to know all of you, Tolya. You had a sister, someone you loved, die as a kid when you were just a kid. That kind of thing leaves an impact.”

His eyes dart away from you, his face setting in a hard line; what you know from experience is how he reacts in not knowing how to respond.

You graze his jaw with your lips, settling yourself onto his chest. His heartbeat echoes in your ear, seemingly matching the pace of the circles he begins tracing on your arm.

“I’m not asking to know everything about your past, Toly. I just want to know about things that mattered. And I know you like learning about my life because you’ve said you do, so how would you feel if I suddenly dropped something on you after all these months together like that my mom died of some rare disease or that I had a twin living in LA?”

“I would say I have wanted to visit LA.”

“Tolya,” you groan, scooching yourself off him to lay on your side so you can fully see the smirk he’s struggling to contain. “Work with me here.”

“I know, I know,” he replies, turning to his side to meet your exasperated gaze. With one hand propping his head up, his free hand shifts to rest on your hip. “You make good point, ангел.”

His eyes close before he exhales deeply, hesitating slightly before the words come pouring out.

“Is not that I want to keep secrets or that I do not trust you, I do. But there is not much I wish to remember from home. And even things I do miss, they are still things I cannot get back. I know I will not see Москва again, so, I do not focus much on it.”

His hand shifts from resting on your hip to cupping your jaw, his rough skin such a contrast to his voice.

“What I have now with you, this is what matters most to me, what I think about. Making sure you are happy and safe and I protect our future. But I will try more to not keep bigger things from you. And I can answer what you ask. хорошо?”

You smile.

“хорошо. And I may not know everything, but I know I’m so glad I met you.”

Anatoly smiles back and presses his lips to yours, drawing back three times in quick succession and making you laugh, each subsequent kiss punctuated briefly:

“Я.”

“тебя.”

“люблю.”

And you know he means it.

[lilrexsoka]

Here you all are! (Three hundred followers has been achieved, as well. Cool.) :)

Tumblr Fic #1- Rexsoka Pregnancy- Part 11- Secrets Lost

“I don’t think you are supposed to be here, Commander.” The Togruta smiled slyly as her mate slipped into her room, quiet despite the layers of his armour.

Rex smirked and quietly closed the door behind him. “Maybe. But it was finally my turn on guard duty.”

Ahsoka’s troops had been spending their past few days in the city of Tophen on Christophsis in the crystalline palace, assisting Senator Gemsai as a stabilizer while major changes came to the planet’s politics. The troops followed to both provide protection to their General, as well as to the Senator and her followers. All this meant was Ahsoka was missing her mate terribly as she was kept from seeing him. “I stayed up to wait for you.”

The clone chuckled and guided her into the provided bed, laying her down and smirking into her beautiful face. “Bad girl. The baby needs sleep too.”

She gasped in mock hurt and tapped him teasingly. “I will. I just sleep better with you.” Ahsoka grinned until her mate smothered it with his lips, melting her as always in his comforting presence and touch.

The Togruta eventually convinced him to give up his guarding duty and strip to his blacks, lending to a much easier sleer for both of them. Ahsoka laid above the covers for a while with her mate pressed against her, his head resting beside her swollen stomach which had stuck out between the gifted silk pyjamas, ear against the stretched skin. She lightly ran her nails over his scalp and through the sun-dyed fuzz, listening contently as he murmured to the growing life inside of her.

“You’re going to be so lucky to have Ahsoka as a mommy.” Rex rubbed her abdomen softly, pressing light kisses in between his whispers. “She’s the smartest, prettiest, bravest and most talented Jedi in the Galaxy. She’s funny, and kind, and possibly the best friend a man could ever have.”

Ahsoka felt tears well up behind her eyes. This man was so amazing. She didn’t know what she would have done without him.

The clone continued, practically the entire right side of his face plastered against her body, as if he was trying to hear the heartbeat again. “You’re going to love her, just like I do.” Suddenly, Rex jerked his head back, his expression flashing with confusion, then wonder.

“What?” His mate sat up further, the markings above her eyes lifting.

Rex chuckled lowly and smoothed his palm over the area of her stomach his head had been resting on. “Didn’t you feel that?”

She giggled nervously. “No?”

The clone pressed his ear back up against her rounded stomach and seemed to wait. Eventually, he gasped, “There! It did it again! The baby is moving!”

His giddiness amused her and she grinned. “Are you sure? It could just be-“

“I’m sure,” Rex insisted. “I felt and heard it bump against your side.” He pressed his lips to her skin, as if attempting to kiss his unborn child. “Are you trying to say hi to mommy and daddy?”

Ahsoka sighed lovingly and stroked her mate’s back with one hand, her belly with the other. She couldn’t express how much she loved him. “I’m sure he’s trying to tell you that he wants to go to sleep.” The Togruta snickered as the clone crawled back up to her and smirked into her face.

“You could have just said so.” He playfully hooked his arms under her back and pulled the sheets around her. Once she was safely tucked under the silk blankets, he slipped under with her.

Ahsoka immediately tucked into his side, squirming around until she found the perfect spot for her distended stomach. Rex curled his arms around her and lay there, hand placed protectively on the spot where their child grew.

This was their routine when they had the chance. By now, it was familiar, but yet still the favourite part of their night.

“Goodnight, Rex. I love you.”

“Goodnight, ‘Soka. I love you so much.” She felt him tap her stomach under the covers. “Goodnight, son- or daughter- of ours.”

The Togruta smiled into his shoulder. He was a good man, and would make an amazing father.

——

“Feels good to be back in the stars, General?” Admiral Tashen asked once Ahsoka and her men walked onto the bridge. The political assistance had helped Christophsis for the better, but now it was finally time to leave Senator Gemsai so they could continue with another mission.

The General nodded deftly. “Of course, Admiral. I’m always glad to return to you.” She winked teasingly and thoroughly enjoyed the laugh she pulled from him.

“So, what’s next on the agenda, Tashen?” Rex asked, stopping beside the General.

The Admiral leaned forward to turn on the holotable. “We will be heading to Joshal next, to assist the refugees that are being driven from their homes by extremists.” He brought up an image of the planet, which was quickly followed by a recording of a human woman, pleading for help in a language that was translated below her face.

“Joshal?” Jesse spoked up, his eyes flaring. “I’ve never heard of it.”

“It’s wild,” both Kix and the Admiral told him at the same time.

Tashen shot him a look but continued. “It’s an under-developed planet, but it’s people are still part of the Republic, and they need our help.” He switched off the projection smoothly. “We’ll be stopping at Arcadis station to resupply before beginning the journey to the Holden System.”

“You can’t go, General Tano,” Kix blurted again, leading every pair of eyes on the bridge to train on him. The clone medic rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

Ahsoka sighed and gestured to him as she slowly strode past, making sure to include her Commander by tapping his pauldron. “Follow me, Kix, and explain why.” She didn’t particularly want to begin an argument in public, and she was ready to sit down. Pregnancy had done terrible things to her back.

“Let me explain,” the medic began once they found the first private room they could find, which just so happened to be one of the medical bays. “I’ve done some research on exotic planets, and Joshal is certainly exotic.” He continued as Ahsoka heaved herself into a chair and listened carefully, Rex watching from a shorter distance away. “There are these insects on this planet that carry a dangerous disease. It doesn’t do anything to most people, but it can affect women who-“ He cut himself off with a ragged cough. “-Who are bitten.”

Ahsoka lifted the markings above her eyes, suspicious. “Uh huh. Well, I’ll try not to get bitten. Thank you, Kix.”

Kix didn’t give up. Instead, he began to grow frantic. “Please, just listen to me, General. I think it will be best if you stay behind this mission, just for your safety.”

“Kix,” the Togruta sighed. “Just tell me the real reason.” She was already guessing his point when she heard footsteps and then, a door sliding open.

“Sorry to eavesdrop,” the man, a young Coruscanti medic, began, “But I have to disagree. I had a grandparent who was from Joshal, and the Tinxes don’t harm healthy women. But they could cause a risk to unborn children.” He shrugged and sipped his cup of caf.

Rex growled. “Trooper. This is a private conversation.”

The young medic’s eyes flared and he took a step back. “Oh, sorry. I hadn’t-“ He cursed under his breath and rapidly backed out.

Ahsoka rolled her eyes, though incompetent shinies wasn’t her biggest concern at the moment. “Enough of this. How did you know, Kix? Was it obvious?”

The Medic groaned and buried his face in his hands, sinking down into his own chair. “Er… a little. Some of the older clones, including I and Jesse, noticed. And… uh… we started betting.”

“Of course you did.” Rex paced closer and stood face to face with his medic, fists curling protectively. “Now, I’d like you to come up with an excuse. Anything that can keep Ahsoka’s secret for a little longer. I want you to stop all betting.” The clones exchanged a long glare, seeming to study each other until Rex eventually broke the silence. “You’re certain, aren’t you? Coric told you.”

Kix shook his head rapidly, but his stuttering gave him away and the gig was up. He sighed heavily. “Yes, but it was necessary! Coric wanted someone who could keep an eye on the General, someone who knew enough about pregnancies!” He winced, as if he was afraid his brother would hit him.

“It’s okay, Rex,” Ahsoka told her mate, gently guiding him away from the medic. I guess this is just the excuse I needed. “Coric was probably right.” She gathered her courage and a deep breath before murmuring, “I think we should tell everyone now anyway.”

Rex sighed, apparently very relieved. “I agree. Since the boys are already speculating. It wouldn’t be long before they figured out the truth.”

“Thank you,” Kix breathed. He laughed nervously. “Takes a lot of stress off of me.”

The Togruta ran her hands down her mate’s arms and inhaled shakily. This was going to be the beginning of what she feared. Before long, more than just her men and her master would know about her pregnancy. “Okay… should we tell them now?” She’d waited long enough.

Rex shrugged, but Kix interrupted him. “It’s up to you. But I wasn’t joking, you probably should not step onto the surface of Joshal. Just to be safe.” He arched his eyebrows and jabbed his thumb at the door behind him. “That shiny was right.”

“I believe you.” Ahsoka touched her stomach through the fabric of her robes as she spoke. “And this time, I’ll listen. For the baby’s safety.” She saw the relieved expressions on both the clone’s faces and decided that she had made the right choice.

Now, all that was left was to reveal their relationship- and their pregnancy- to the clones and natural-borns on the cruiser. This will be fun.

[clydewinter]

Animona Series: Animona Self-Service Console

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17 years ago, a team of scientists led by Dr. Lois Jean successfully developed a cure for Alzheimer’s disease. It was regarded as an astounding medical breakthrough. Over the years, Dr. Lois Jean and her team continued developing the cure to make it more potent yet muchmore affordable to the masses.

During their continuous research and experiments, Dr. Lois Jean accidentally developed a procedure that can extract a specific memory from a person, living or dead, as long as their brains are still intact and transfer it to another living person's brain. The extracted memory is what we know today as Animona.

Animona is a composition of brain cells that is carefully extracted and processed for surgical transplant. Hence, Animonas cannot be copied or duplicated. Once a person undergoes memory extraction to be converted into an Animona, that person loses that specific memory.

The discovery and development of Animona led to another medical breakthrough that cured most neurological conditions such as PTSD, depression, schizophrenia, and many more.

With the success of this medical advancement, an eccentric engineer found an opportunity to make Animona available and affordable to the masses. Thomas BelClement, an engineer and the CEO of BC Industries, believed that Animona is a gift to humanity and should be made accessible to everyone.

Thomas BelClement approached Dr. Lois Jean with a proposal that will make Animona globally accessible and affordable. The two agreed and their agreement led to the establishment of Anima Technologies.

Working together, Thomas BelClement was able to invent the first machine that can extract and install Animona from and to a person without undergoing major brain surgery. The machine is called an Animover.

The product was a huge success and in 6 months since it’s launch, Anima Technologies have already sold an astounding seven million Animovers globally in the service of hospitals, clinics, and rehabilitation centers. This made Anima Technologies the most valuable company in the whole world a year after its conception.

Today, Dr. Lois Jean and Thomas BelClement are still working hard together in developing new ways to make Animona much more accessible and affordable to the masses. Just 5 years ago, Anima Technologies invented a cheaper non-intravenous means to intake Animonas in the form of a capsule. This, however, is limited to shorter memory durations only.

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The Animover is the first invention by Anima Technologies that omitted the requirement of brain surgeries when transferring Animonas between two persons. The procedure only included the person you will extract memories from, the person where the memory will go to, and the assistance of an expert medical practitioner that has undergone training in operating an Animover.

First, the two patients will have to be induced with anaesthesia and fall into a temporary and controlled coma. Then, the medical practitioner will inject a long but very thin needle on both of the patients’ heads. Once successfully injected, the medical practitioner can prompt the Animover to operate.

The medical practitioner will then navigate through the person’s memory through the Animover for extraction. Once confirmed, the brain cells related to that memory are then extracted from the person’s brain and into the Animover. The machine will then process the extracted brain cells and convert it to an Animona. After 15 minutes of processing, the Animona will then be installed into the other person’s brain. During installation, the receiving person will experience the memory like a vivid dream. After the procedure, the person from where the extraction happened will no longer remember the extracted memory. The receiving person will then wake up and have the extracted memory stored in their brain.

Total time to complete the procedure: 30 to 45 mins depending on how far and how long the memory is from the extracting end.

Accuracy: 99.9998% accurate memory.

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Anicaps are an innovative breakthrough in Animona technology. An Anicap is a capsule that has a specially formulated Animona inside. Unlike the Animover, Anicaps does not require a machine to install an Animona to your brain. You only have to orally intake the Anicap and almost instantly, you can experience the memory that is stored in the Animona.

Extraction of the Animona for the Anicap remains the same as the Animover. Only the receiving procedure differs.

However, unlike the Animover procedure, Anicaps are not capable of storing Animonas that have longer memory durations.

Total time to complete the procedure: Almost instantly.

Accuracy: 95.72%.

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Since the founding of Anima Technologies, Animonas have been globally accessible and much more affordable. Animonas are not also limited to medical use. Some people use Animonas for recreational activities. (The legality of recreational use of Animonas varies from local governing bodies. Please check with your local government about using Animonas outside of prescription.)

Recreational use of Animona

You can enjoy the benefits of Animonas from recreational activities. For example, when Animovers first launched commercially, people who had acrophobia (fear of heights) had Animonas of skydiving memories installed to their brains. This helped them experience skydiving without having to actually jump off from a plane.

Paraplegic patients also enjoy the recreational benefits of Animonas. Those who can no longer move their limbs can stimulate muscle motion by installing Animonas that have memories of intense activities like those of athletes.

If you want to relive a memory, that is also made possible, thanks to Animona technology! You can have a specific memory extracted from your brain, process it into Animona, and reinstall it again so you can relive that memory as if it’s happening at this very moment.

Lifestyle

Many people have lived very interesting lives, went on daring adventures, or had one-of-a-kind memories that only they can experience. Thanks to Animona, you can experience those memories, too.

There are auction houses that specialize in Animona bidding. The Animonas that go to auction houses are usually extremely rare memories or memories from very famous people. The most expensive ones are the Animonas that involve memories of dead famous people. Thanks to the people who preserved his brain, Albert Einstein’s memory when he discovered the final formula of his famous Theory of Relativity sold for 2.5 billion ABC (Absolute Currency) just 2 months ago.

Many people consider specific memories inside Animonas as an art form. As such, there's a huge market of collectors aiming to have exotic and rare Animonas as part of their collection.

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Below is the projected timeline from Anima Technologies:

2055 - Release of Animover IX; faster processing, 100% memory accuracy, AI-operation

2057 - Release of Anicaps Ultra; 100% memory accuracy, extended Animona

2063 - Launch of Aniboost; New product, daily maintenance for brain health, development of photographic memory

2075 - Animona’s 50th Year of Discovery, Launch of Anifinity; Constant brain cell regeneration, projected human lifespan to increase up to 185 years old.

2077 - Discovery of extracting memories from DNA; Animona’s exclusive independence from brain cells.

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Performing Advanced CT Scan. This will take a few seconds.

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Scanning.

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Scan complete.

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Advanced CT Scan Results

Name: Marcus Orponta

Age: 34

Occupation: Military Veteran

Brain Health: 16.4%

Detected illnesses: PTSD (Severe), Anxiety (Severe), Insomnia (Severe), Chances of Stroke (Very likely), Dementia (Severe)

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Since your brain health is below the federal government’s approved threshold, your results have been automatically submitted to the nearest hospital. Please proceed to [Dr. Lois Jean Medical Hospital].

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[bcxvi]

Episode IX - Lufenian Eidolith

-

"It's beautiful," I said while one of my paws got gently wet when touching the water of the stream we were navigating on. For the last three days, we had been sailing on the shores of Djose, making the least time we could towards the Moonflow.

"You should see it at night," said Hezmush, his sweet voice making my ears go into the position of shyness right away. "It's a gorgeous sight, you and Kimahri surely would love to-" He paused, pretending to care about our recent breakup.

During the time of our detour from Djose towards the Moonflow, Hezmush had been giving away tiny flirting signs, all whenever Kimahri wouldn't notice him of course. Whenever Kimahri isolated, Hez would pass by my side minutes later and drop phrases like "If it weren't for Kimahri, I would already be hitting on you sweetie," or "we should hang out one day, you and I." All of these ending with a wink of some sort, one time he even stuck his tongue out. I was aroused.

As for me... I felt something tingling inside me, yet felt an awkward sensation. As if getting to know him better would be something I shouldn't be making.

Kimahri on the other hand had been quiet, he understood that hearing his voice suddenly made my fur stand on its end. At first, he was confused, I could see in his look that this was, perhaps, not the first time he saw my hairs react in such thrill. His usual smile suddenly turned into a saddened face, I felt terrible too... so ashamed of disliking him without reason, I had no balls to address the issue or talk about it.

"We Should be reaching that shaggy old Salamander friend of mine," interrupted Cid, coming out of Hezmush's cabin while buttoning his trousers up. "He tends to move the camp around, but I'm sure he's around here, we paid him a visit just a week ago."

"I hope he can help," replied Kimahri, "I'm eager to hear what he can find out." He turned at me and looked straight at my eyes while finishing his sentence.

A few minutes pass with the three of us in a quiet mood. We left Barrett at Djose to fix the ship for a while, if he succeeded, he would come to pick us up. Cid missed him, we would constantly stumble with him, shamelessly pulling out his erect cock and stroking to it while seeing some recorded clips and photographs on his portable screen device, it usually was Barret's fat ass being fucked by Cid's large dick. Both enjoyed recording their sessions to enjoy them whenever they would be separate or inviting others to join their adventures during business trips.

Kimahri would simply turn the opposite direction and try to give him privacy, but Hez would stay around while doing stuff and pretend not to care about Cid's moans while peeking on him few feet away.

As for me... well, hearing those passionate masturbations of his made me feel odd. I certainly knew that sex was something sacred, I mean, Cid and Barret's love was genuine, they made it clear for me before we boarded Hez's ship. But they had no shame when having 'fun' while doing what couples in love do.

A few times I peeked at him, some while he started, others while he finished and large shots of cum spurted all over, staining the carpets and leaving his clothes smelling of chlorine.

I knew I had lived those experiences as well, the eating of my ass, my manhood being sucked gently until my semen covered up the place and face of someone...

"Ah! I think we are finally here!" yelled Cid, loosely buttoning his crotch and putting away his pornographic comforter. We all exited the cabin, Cid hastily waving towards a rustic campsite. While Yelling "So vneaht, so vneath!"

So vneaht? Was he speaking another language?

To our surprise, a greyish green-skinned colored man came out of the tent, his face was mostly covered in a tangle of gingery dreadlocks. His body was in the nude except for a graceful fundoshi concealing his genitals, he was mostly covered in fascinating tattoos and marks. His bearded chin gave a wide smile, while his large ape-like arms waved us in almost a rhythmic greeting. "Syo dra kutacc Adnu pa fedr oui," he yelled us back, "E famlusa oui so vneahtc."

"It's the AlBhed tongue," whispered Hezmush to my ears, "don't worry, this is a greeting some adepts of Etro developed through the years, we might not need a translator. Relax."

Hezmush gave me a quick rub on my shoulders, ending with a quick pat at the back. Cid couldn't wait to reach the shore, so he jumped out of the boat, swam, and greeted his friend "Amarant!" he yelled, while both kissed each other so passionately... A flash hit my head while watching them both, suddenly it was me and Kimahri, both nude in the wild, against hard cold stone floors and walls.

My vision is interrupted by no other than Kimahri, who accidentally stumbles and trips down towards me. I catch him in my arms. He is so tiny compared to my overall size. Suddenly I smile at him, his eyes shine and he smiles back.

"Well, well, what have we here?" demands Amarant, while hugging so friendly Hezmush, then Kimahri, and finally me. "You should've told me you wanted an orgy Cid!" All start to laugh but I, probably because I didn't catch the joke.

Cid tries to suppress his wild libido and starts explaining to his friend (who he constantly called Salamander), the reason for our visit. Amarant's tent is like a spiritual shrine, full of charms, bells, and decorations that shine with the few Pyreflies and candle lamps he has dimly lit. Nightfall is nearing us, so he pulls out luxurious cushions and blankets in case we want a sleepover.

"We need to know if you can help us identify his Maladie," finished Cid, while pointing in my direction with a nod. Amarant scratches his chin and wets his lips with his tongue. He asks if the situation is urgent, he probably was about to go to sleep soon. Cid answers in a begging manner that the situation cannot wait.

Annoyed, Amarant looks above us, as if trying to find a sign of distress in any of his charms hanging on the ceiling. He gives a soft 'yes' and proceeds to pull down a large claw hanging on a leather string. He gives a soft kiss to the item and proceeds to put it around my furry neck.

"I know you are not used to being touched by strangers," he says to me in a kind voice, somehow he accurately read my thoughts at the moment, yet I believed my corporal language gave me away, "but my ways are effective. Controversial, I must admit... but effective."

I understand his speech. Probably he would have to engage more intimately with me to understand what is the state of my disease. "I accept your methods," I respond without thought. I DO want to know what is the matter with me.

"Good." Amarant gives his commands, he needs me to lie down in the center of the tent, comfortable and without gears on me. I agree without hesitation. We are all boys after all. Although I blush heavily while my gaze crosses with that of Hezmush and Kimahri. I try to understand that maybe the whole party will stay to watch, but after a few minutes, Amarant asks everyone to leave. Perhaps he needs privacy to summon spirits of some kind.

After my company is out, he unties his fundoshi and starts his rituals. At first, I'm nervous, but slowly I can smell an incense so sweet. It makes me feel calm and slightly dizzy. He chants and prays while rubbing delicious oils in my chest, passing through my belly and then all over my genitals. It feels like an erotic massage to me.

He stops his chants. Then sings a soft prayer into my ears, which makes me go into a state of slumber.

At first, everything is dark, then I feel my body wet, floating on the surface of a pond in the middle of the dark.

"Hello?" I whisper, an echo resonating through the area. Somehow I understand this is my unconscious of some kind.

"Hello, my friend," replies Amarant, he is right next to me, yet his voice is all around.

Defying laws of physics I get up on a solid floor, still wet. "Is that you?" I ask. Out of nowhere, a body materializes next to me, it's Amarant.

He grabs my hand and kisses the back of my paw.

"I will be your guide," he explains, "hold my hand and walk along. If we want to find out what happened, we'll have to go through some veils."

"Some veils?" I ask. Suddenly I feel my crotch getting warm and a visible erection pops up. I try to apologize for it, but Amarant says I must not be ashamed of it, he has one as well, yet I only notice it until he points it out.

"To maintain our connection you must enter my body," he explains, "I will not Lie, you feel amazing."

We both let out a low chuckle. I guess I can't help but enjoy the ride.

We keep walking for a couple of minutes. At first, I'm quiet, but he is humming that tune that made me go into stasis again.

"Sometimes I feel that I know him," I say, more comfortable now that he seems to give me time to open up willingly.

"You do?"

"Yes," I continue, "as if Kimahri and I are close somehow, a hunch I feel all over my body, my chest starts to race and I want to hug him madly...! Yet the idea makes me sick..."

"What happened the night you fell into a coma?"

"I have no idea... they say we were asleep...."

"And?" Amarant and I stand face to face, he holds both my hands and we are now floating in the void, yellow and golden hues surround us.

"Someone came into our room," I continue, somehow speaking suppressed memories. "I felt how a dark presence was approaching me, it penetrated my mind and found its way into my dreams." I was questioning how violated I felt when I realized something new, "he could read me completely, found out I was human within but hideous outside."

"That explains why you feel torn," tells Amarant, "probably this intruder tore a half of you, but was unable to touch your human heart." He hesitates and asks, "did you see the face of this creature?"

"Yes." My reply is solid, yet I hesitate. "But I can't see him... not anymore..." I struggle for a second, suddenly I feel my eyes and mouth open wide, a burst of light coming out of them as if I were in a kind of supernatural trance.

I can see myself, my spirit is exiting this body I did for myself within my mind. Amarant is embracing the lights and turns to hug me from behind. I turn towards his direction and see what's going on, somehow the rays flooding out of my cavities are unfolding into visions. As if I were screening the events of that night. I see how a black shadow is on top of my body, pulling out my fundoshi and arousing my genitals with a cold touch.

Kimahri is next to me, but he doesn't notice the intruder. The vision reforms into particles, shaping the shadow and myself, both kissing. I ejaculate and he eats all of my seed. I try hard to see who he is, but when I'm about to unveil the stuff covering his face I wake up.

"STOP!" I roar. Amarant is surrounding my neck with his ape-like arms, hugging me tightly while my cock pops out of his hole, juices oozing out and wetting between us. I come to my senses and realize I'm out of the trance.

"Amarant is panting and damped in sweat, his dreadlocks tied up on a ponytail. I can see his face completely.

Panting he replies "You... are... a bull... honey."

I find myself sitting down, grabbing him by those tiny hips, and realizing I was probably fucking the guts out of his mind while being in our stupor. I imagined I would be still.

Amarant tries to get up but falls to his knees, I figure he took the ride of his life. And I didn't even enjoy it!

"I apologize," he says, while I assist him to stand up and walk him to a nearby couch full of silk sheets and soft pillows. "You must've been the victim of some powerful magycks... and oh goddesses! You are so in love with Kimahri. I felt every inch of it," he made a pause, reluctant to speak, yet he does, "you are a victim of some powerful dark spell... and I don't think there is an easy way to benefit you, at least not from me."

And if it's not you then who? Who is going to help me? I never felt this way, shattered within and feeling sick of someone who makes me taste special feelings... yet tempted to be into an affair with a man I just met.

Amarant tries to regulate his breath, I bring a glass full of freshwater, which our tired guru sips eagerly. Then give him a minute of silence, I tie down my undergarments and put on my belt. Amarant asks me to stay by the door, he says that coming out of the tent without me would not be beneficial for us.

"Usually I don't have a problem with leaving people I connect with right away," he explains, "but the link we accomplish was so strong... I'm worried you might experience... side effects."

After he rubs out the sweat off his body and ties up a fresh piece of cloth around his pubic area, Amarant grabs me by the arm. He is now limping and needs me to help him walk. "It's been a while since somebody forced me to use a cane to help me walk," he chuckles.

The guys are outside, sitting by the shore. Kimahri is the first to see me, he gets up and approaches. Hezmush wants to come too, but Cid holds his arm and gently asks him to leave us be. I happen to see him rubbing his crotch, implying they might jack off each other while the wait is up.

"Oh boy, we have a problem," Amarant speaks right after Kimahri is within hearing range.

"How did it go?" asks Kimahri. I divert my gaze, ashamedly. If only I could explain that I broke Amaran't ass hole.

"We did well," replied Amarant quickly, winking at me, he sat down at a log that had the shape of his buttocks carved in because of all the time he spent sitting on it. "But the news... not good. Are you sure you want to hear them too?" Kimahri nods, he has decided to help me out no matter what.

"There is no impossible for me to handle," he assures.

Amarant explains the situation, "Lufenian Magyck," he says. "Are you familiar with the term? It's one of the most ancient kinds of powers to ever step foot on our world."

Lufenia was a civilization that was so great yet their fall down was inevitable due to the power they harvested. To conceal the practice of Lufeninan magycks the ancient survivors locked down their greatest sources of power into synthetically refined crystals: the Eidoliths.

"But they are legends," replies Kimahri, "midwife stories to scare children. Even as a kid I was told those tales."

"Oh my child, you would be surprised at how many legends end up being true. Many thought Etro was."

"Well, assuming you are right," continues Kimahri, "how can we break a Lufeninan spell?"

Amarant chuckles in shame and explains there is no way. "Kill the caster if you can," he adds, "the spell is locked with an identity veil, something the Eidolith can grant to the one who curses. If you want the strength to break this affliction, you must find a Goldling Lufeninan Crystal."

Kimahri stays in silence, Amarant knows he said something practically impossible to get. If Lufeninan Crystals were the containers used to seal this antique civilization's magycks... it would be obvious that most of them were hidden who knows where, if not already lost.

"There are many tales," adds Amarant, "yet some of them might or might not be where these tales talk about. I would recommend you reach someone who might be accustomed to the lore of Lufenia. I know little and my understanding is limited."

"Would Yuna know about them?" asks Kimahri.

"Probably," replies Amarant, "she doesn't stop being a summoner. Eidoliths hold the power of creatures that are alike Aeons."

"Then it's decided," I say without thinking, Kimahri looks at me with some kind of relief. I try to turn down my voice, but I realize this was something I said from within my soul, so I make up my mind and finish the sentence: "We are to see Yuna. If she knows something, we could find out where the Eidolith might be hidden."

[mrjat396]

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THE MANY HEALTH BENEFITS OF METH

In low, pharmaceutical-grade doses, methamphetamine may actually repair and protect the brain in certain circumstances. But stigma against the drug could be harming patients and holding back research.

TROY FARAHMAY 15, 2019

D-methamphetamine is what generally appears on the street—although it's often cut with other chemicals—whereas l-meth provides a less addictive, shorter-lived high that is less desirable among drug users.

(Photo: Fiona Goodall/Getty Images)

Ask your doctor about methamphetamine. It's not a phrase you'll ever hear on TV or the radio, but here's a secret: Meth is an incredible medicine. Even the Drug Enforcement Administration admits it, and doctors are known to prescribe it for narcolepsy, obesity, and ADHD. Historically, meth has been used to reverse barbiturate overdoses and even raise blood pressure during surgery. Some preliminary research suggests that meth can be neuroprotective against stroke and traumatic brain injury, even stimulating the growth of brain cells.

Yet we're constantly warned never to try meth—"not even once," goes the refrain—or it will instantly cause addiction and ruin your life. Before fentanyl was the demon drug du jour, meth was seen as the worst, most destructive, most evil chemical you could find on the streets. Even of late, if you ask the New York Times or NBC, you'll learn that meth, "the forgotten killer," is back with a "vengeance." Other outlets, from Rolling Stone to CNN to The Daily Beast, have raised the alarm about meth use in the context of the opioid overdose crisis.

Stimulant-related deaths are indeed on the rise in North America—in some regions, meth is even more prevalent than heroin. Surveying drug overdoses in America from 1979 through 2016, researchers wrote in Science in September of 2018 that "Methamphetamine deaths have increased most dramatically in the western and southwestern United States."

Meth poisonings accounted for an estimated 14,845 hospitalizations in 2015, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC), and another 15,808 emergency room visits. In 2016, around 7,500 people died from overdosing on stimulants, including meth. If you ask most people, including policymakers, you'll hear that meth is a scourge that can do no good.

But if you've ever used something like Vicks VapoInhaler, you've experienced the healing benefits of meth firsthand. That's because the over-the-counter nasal decongestant contains levomethamphetamine, the levorotary form—or "mirror image"—of the same stuff from Breaking Bad. Procter & Gamble tries to obscure this fact by spelling the active ingredient "levmetamfetamine." Selegiline, a drug for treating Parkinson's and Alzheimer's diseases, also metabolizes into levomethamphetamine.

There is a significant difference between these two opposing molecules. D-methamphetamine is what generally appears on the street—although it's often cut with other chemicals—whereas l-meth provides a less addictive, shorter-lived high that is less desirable among drug users. But people can and do use it recreationally. Abuse is rare, however, in part because the high is shitty, but also because d-meth is so widely available. It's easier to buy a more powerful form of the drug on the street than it is to try to extract it from over-the-counter medications.

Other Americans are prescribed actual, pure meth by their doctors. It happens less frequently these days, but in ADHD, obesity, or narcolepsy cases where nothing else has worked, a drug called Desoxyn (methamphetamine hydrochloride) can sometimes help. It can even be prescribed to children as young as seven.

It's important to make these distinctions. Meth didn't make a "comeback"; it never left. It can't return with a "vengeance" and it can't be "evil" because we're talking about a chemical compound here. It has no personality, no feelings, no intentions.

Thus it does a disservice to science and to medicine, as well as to the people who use these drugs responsibly, to treat a molecule with dualistic properties purely as a poison. And as recent research has shown, we're still uncovering some of the potential therapeutic benefits of methamphetamine. Confronting the stigma associated with meth and highlighting its benefits can better inform drug policy and addiction treatment.

(Photo: HO/Royal Thai Navy/AFP/Getty Images)

'IT'S JUST A STIMULANT, LIKE ANY OTHER STIMULANT'

For Jordan*, the meth he's prescribed works better against his ADHD with fewer side effects than the Adderall he'd been on for 20 years. About five years ago, Jordan asked his doctor if he could try methamphetamine. The doc said sure.

"The first time I brought it to the pharmacy, the pharmacist actually said to me, 'Oh, your doctor wrote this prescription wrong, this is the stuff that they make in meth labs,'" Jordan tells me by phone. "I told him to type 'Desoxyn' into the computer, and he did. He kind of backtracked, [but] he obviously had no idea."

Jordan, a middle-aged man from North Carolina who works in clinical research, now switches every three months between Adderall and Desoxyn to prevent building a tolerance to either stimulant.

Methamphetamine and amphetamine (one of the active ingredients in Adderall) are almost identical chemicals. The main difference between the two is the addition of a second methyl group to methamphetamine's chemical structure. This addition makes meth more lipid-soluble, allowing for easier access across the blood-brain barrier. Meth is therefore not only more potent, but also longer-lasting.

"The medications have definitely been important for me, to be productive, to be successful, not just at work but also in my personal life," Jordan says. "I've been on the medications for years, but I can take Adderall or methamphetamine and take a nap afterwards. I don't have any noticeable side effects."

Jordan also doesn't feel "high" from the doses he takes—approximately 10 to 15 milligrams of meth per day. Doses at this level are well tolerated by most people. It's very difficult to estimate the typical dosages of illicit meth taken on the street, but they are generally many times higher and taken every couple of hours. Further, the route of administration—typically, users smoke or inject illicit meth—allows for more of the drug to enter the bloodstream than taking a prescription pill.

At high doses, meth gives a rush of euphoria, boosting attention span, zapping fatigue, and decreasing appetite. Intense sexual arousal, talkativeness, and rapid thought patterns are also common. Body temperature and heart rate shoot up, which can cause irregular heartbeat, increasing the risk of seizures. If taken repeatedly over long periods, street meth can be highly neurotoxic, inducing paranoia and psychosis.

But illicit meth is also often used to self-medicate, according to Mark Willenbring, an addiction psychiatrist from St. Paul, Minnesota, with over 30 years of practice treating substance-use disorders. In Willenbring's experience, most of his patients who use illegal meth are treating undiagnosed ADHD.

"There's a high degree of comorbidity between substance-use disorders and ADD," Willenbring says. "They used meth for years in a controlled way, they never over-used it, they just used enough to get an effect, and then they stopped. One misconception is that it's always very addictive."

With most people who are addicted to meth, Willenbring says, you can't tell it just by looking at them. Carl Hart, a neuroscientist in Columbia University's Department of Psychology, agrees that the image of a snarling meth addict with bad teeth is a false stereotype. The dental damage so prevalent in anti-drug propaganda, he says, is more likely due to poor nutrition and lack of sleep—not to the drug. "There is no empirical evidence to support the claim that methamphetamine causes physical deformities," Hart wrote in a 2014 co-authored report.

"It's just a stimulant, like any other stimulant," Willenbring says. "It's a marketing issue."

Part of the reason Jordan asked to try Desoxyn in the first place was to see if he'd develop any of the "stereotypical meth addict problems," as he puts it. He hasn't.

"Those of us that know the reality have a responsibility to say, 'Hey, not that shooting up meth isn't bad, but the chemical itself isn't bad,'" Jordan says. "It's just misuse of the chemical that's bad."

For Joan*, a 66-year-old grandmother living off the grid in northern Georgia, Desoxyn makes her feel normal. "Not high, not hyped up, just normal," she tells me. She's been taking prescription meth since 2006, but first tried many other ADHD meds, such as Ritalin and Concerta, with poor results. But Desoxyn has not only helped her socialize, manage bills, and finish her master's degree in social work; it's also helped with Joan's depression and self-esteem.

"The only downside is the cost," she says. "It's one of the oldest drugs on the market, but even generic, it is outrageously expensive."

Still, meth isn't for everyone, of course. Kevin*, a 31-year-old artist from the Midwest, was first prescribed Desoxyn at age 15 to treat extreme fatigue and trouble focusing. But misdiagnosed mental-health issues—his doctors thought he had bipolar disorder, when in fact he had post-traumatic stress from childhood abuse—led to worsening symptoms.

"Being able to just take a bunch of pills that made the exhaustion go away for a while felt like a blessing, but it was just a Band-Aid on the problem," Kevin says. "I became completely dependent upon Desoxyn to function, and any lapse in taking my dose would result in a terrible energy crash."

"In retrospect, my neurologist at the time would have done well to consider the effects of intense stimulants on someone already prone to mania, insomnia, and hallucinations," he says. "I think Desoxyn has its merits as part of a treatment plan for attentive disorders, but that's the thing—it needs to be part of a larger understanding of how and why it might have a negative impact upon the patient's overall health, and should remain closely monitored throughout."

"Stigma is the lens [through] which we see all drug issues. It keeps us from making the best decisions. It is fear-based, not rational, not creative. Because of stigma, we have not fully addressed the opioid crisis."

(Photo: Guillermo Arias/AFP/Getty Images)

HOW METH CAN TREAT BRAIN INJURY—AND MUCH MORE

Street doses of meth can be extremely damaging to your health. The purity of such drugs is often unknown, and repeated, high doses of meth have been proven to be neurotoxic. But in low, pharmaceutical-grade doses, meth may actually repair and protect the brain in certain circumstances.

This was first discovered in 2008, when researchers at Queen's Medical Center Neuroscience Institute in Honolulu, Hawaii, analyzed five years of data on traumatic head injuries. They unexpectedly found that patients who tested positive for methamphetamine were significantly less likely to die from the injuries. The authors suggested that meth could have neuroprotective benefits.

To learn more, in 2011, a different team from the University of Montana applied meth to slices of rat brain that had been damaged to resemble the brains of stroke victims. Then they induced strokes in living rats, using a method called embolic MCAO, and injected them with methamphetamine. At low doses, the meth gave better behavioral outcomes and even reduced brain-cell death. At high doses, the meth made outcomes worse.

Because meth stimulates the flow of important neurotransmitters—dopamine, serotonin, and norepinephrine—the Montana researchers theorized that methamphetamine may provide neuroprotection through multiple pathways. David Poulsen, one of the researchers involved, says this was a "serendipitous discovery."

"So we decided, well, if it worked in stroke, it's probably going to work really well in traumatic brain injury," says Poulsen, now a neurosurgeon at the University of Buffalo who specializes in treatments for protecting the brain after severe damage.

Traumatic brain injury, or TBI, occurs after a violent smash to the skull. Its consequences include concussions on the mild end and coma or death on the severe end. TBI kills around 50,000 Americans annually, according to the CDC, while about 2.8 million of us visit the emergency room for TBI-related injuries every year. There is currently no Food and Drug Administration-approved treatment for TBI.

So, Paulson and his team reasoned, if meth can already be prescribed for children, why not to adults with TBI?

To test the proposition, Poulsen and colleagues gave TBI to rats. Giving an animal brain trauma isn't easy, but for more than two decades, there's been a trick called the rat lateral fluid percussion injury model: Simply cut a hole in the skull of a rat and apply water pressure to the brain.

About half the rodents—19 male Wistar rats—were given this treatment, and eight of these were then given meth. The rats given meth performed better at a task called the Morris water maze, a widely used experiment that involves plopping a rat into a pool of water with a hidden platform. By tracking how long it takes the rodent to find the platform, scientists can measure many different aspects of cognitive function.

"By the third day of training, there were no statistically significant differences between the uninjured control rats and the injured rats that had been treated with methamphetamine," Poulsen and his colleagues wrote.

But the team also found that low doses of meth were protecting immature neurons, while also promoting the birth of new brain cells that are important for learning and memory. The same was also true for rats that were given meth, but not injured.

"We see not just little, but very significant improvements in cognition and behavior," Poulsen says. "Their memories improved, functional behavior is improved.... It's not a trivial difference."

"In light of the fact that low-dose methamphetamine is FDA-approved for use in juveniles and adults, we see no valid reason why it cannot be utilized in human clinical trials for stroke and TBI," Poulsen and colleagues concluded in 2016.

But those clinical trials, considered the gold standard for testing medication, have yet to materialize, even while a 2018 retrospective study found similar results to the Hawaiian neuroscience report: Out of 304 patients with TBI, those who also tested positive for meth had better recovery results than those who did not. "The potential neuroprotective role of meth and other similar substances cannot be ignored," the authors wrote in Clinical Neurology and Neurosurgery last July.

There are limited conclusions that we can draw about these rodent and retrospective studies, and it's probably unlikely that nurses will soon start giving meth to people who have cracked their skulls. Still, a wide variety of stimulant therapies for TBI is being explored, with positive results. These include trials with modafinil, a narcolepsy drug; amantadine, a Parkinson's drug; and dextroamphetamine, one of the components of Adderall. But there's still no indication of a single clinical trial for methamphetamine for TBI registered with the National Institutes of Health.

Methylphenidate, also known as Ritalin, seems to be the stimulant most popular in these trials. For example, in 2004, researchers at Drucker Brain Injury Center at MossRehab Hospital in Pennsylvania gave methylphenidate, better known as Ritalin, to 34 patients with moderate to severe TBI. They reported significant improvements in information processing and attention.

Twelve years later, in Gothenburg, Sweden, another 30 patients suffering from prolonged fatigue following TBI were given methylphenidate and observed for six months. They also showed improved cognitive function and reduced fatigue. But a 2016 meta-analysis of 10 controlled trials found the main benefit of giving methylphenidate for TBI was increased attention, "whereas no notable benefit was observed in the facilitation of memory or processing speed," the authors wrote. They encouraged more research into appropriate dosages and length of prescription.

Birgitta Johansson, a neuroscientist at the University of Gothenburg and lead author of the Swedish study, suggests caution whenever treating someone with a brain injury. "With methylphenidate, it is important to be aware about possible side effects, [such] as increased blood pressure and heart rate and also risk of anxiety," she says. "It is always very important to prescribe medication with care and follow the patient carefully."

But the reason meth isn't studied more rigorously—for TBI, for Alzheimer's and Parkinson's, for stroke—could also come down to money. Methamphetamine is off-patent, meaning there may be less financial incentive for pharmaceutical companies to explore the drug's potential uses. Consider Vyvanse, a drug first marketed in 2007, with a new formulation introduced in 2017, that racked up $2.1 billion in sales in 2017. Desoxyn, which is sold by three companies, only earned about $9.3 million in 2009.

While Methamphetamine may not be widely recognized as medicine, it clearly has potential to heal as well as harm. Recognizing the duality of meth is arguably all the more essential in the face of a rising stimulant overdose crisis.

"Stigma regarding any substance use or substance use disorder is counterproductive," says Dan Ciccarone, professor of family medicine at the University of California–San Francisco. He says the overdose crisis is shifting from opioids to stimulants and that we are not prepared for the next wave. "Stigma is the lens [through] which we see all drug issues. It keeps us from making the best decisions. It is fear-based, not rational, not creative. Because of stigma, we have not fully addressed the opioid crisis."

That stigma remains a major hurdle, and until doctors and public-health officials counteract this kind of messaging, it seems unlikely that a multinational pharmaceutical company would risk marketing a substance only believed to be toxic and deadly.

"Everything will kill you, if you take enough of it," Poulsen says. "Some things don't require a lot to do that. Meth is one of those things. But just like any drug, the difference between a poison and a cure is the dose."

*These names have been changed.

TAGSALZHEIMER'SADDERALLTRAUMATIC BRAIN INJURIESFEATURES & INVESTIGATIONSMETHAMPHETAMINEMETHTOPIC: HEALTH CARE

BY TROY FARAH

Troy Farah is an independent journalist and photographer in California. His reporting on science, health, and narcotics has appeared in Wired, Ars Technica, Smithsonian, Discover, Vice, and elsewhere. He co-hosts the drug policy podcast Narcotica. 

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[sagemoderocklee]

Hello! For the meta asks, would you do 1, 5, 8, and 17?

you did not come to play, lilac! thanks for all these questions! <3

1. Tell us about your current project(s)  –   what’s it about, how’s progress, what do you love most about it?

oh lord. that’s a... question. i have. so many current projects, i don’t even know where to start. this is gonna be long so please bear with me lol i’ll probably give more detail for some fics over others, and i’ll only go over fics I’ve got documents for because otherwise we’d be here forever.

The Art of Love: so this one is obvious because it’s been in progress for the last 2ish years? no i think it’s three now. I won’t go into detail with this because the fic is roughly halfway through, so there’s plenty of content for that up! I’d say the progress with that fic is actually going really well, though. Unlike Alliance, which took 8 years--five years of writing, three of editing--TAoL has been up for way less time, and is already about to hit the halfway mark! I really need to get back to it, tbh because it’s been way too long since my last update.

Honor Bound (sequel to Alliance): so this is.... kind of on pause. I’ve got the first three chapters written, but my focus has been more on TAoL when it comes to my more complicated, long running stories, so HB has taken a backseat. I think I won’t get back to working on the Allied Nations Saga until after TAoL is done, in all honesty.

Find Me: this is my HS AU, which has been on the back burner forever and I feel terrible because I think it may honestly be my most popular fic. Unfortunately, AUs/slice of life stuff is difficult for me because I’m more interested in politics, so I lost momentum on this fic. It is about halfway done. I have a good chunk of chapter six written, but not enough that I could say I’m close to finishing it.

It Eats Your Heart: obviously I just started this one, and it’s a horror fic. I’ve really gotta sit down and do some major plotting on it because I only have some very vague ideas currently.

Pearl-Filled Lungs: this is one of like three ningyo AUs I have--the other are pirate/ningyo AUs (and ones actually a selkie not a ningyo). I started it last year for the GaaLee fest, and it’s been sitting unfinished for far too long. I finally sat down recently and plotted the whole thing out, so I’m hoping to get back to working on it soon! It’s only 5 chapters in total, so I don’t think it’ll take me super long to get through once I sit down and do it.

Who Dares to Love Forever: This is a working title, and I may change it. This is a fic idea I’ve had for a couple years, inspired by the song Who Wants to Live Forever by Queen. This particular fic is a vehicle for my sage mode!rock lee headcanon, and explores just how effective Chiyo giving Gaara her life would have been given she was an old biddy. So the idea for this fic is that Gaara’s running out of time because Chiyo only had so much to offer.

Absolution: this is another fic that I’ve had on the back burner for years. it was initially inspired by art by @brianadoesotherjunk but quickly spiraled into something much bigger because of course it did. This particular fic is one I’m extremely excited about. I need to go back over the first part, because I feel like it’s not quite right, but I do technically have the first part done. This fic follows Gaara struggling with bouts of narcolepsy that trigger nightmares induced by trauma and guilt from his childhood. These nightmares are incredibly dangerous for obvious reasons, but even more so because Temari’s baby is on the way. Temari and Shikamaru are married, living in the Kazekage estate, and with their baby coming and both needing/wanting to get back to work, they also need a nanny. Unbeknownst to Gaara, the year prior to the events of the fic, Maito Gai died, succumbing to the 8th Gate finally, and Lee has since been spiraling. His depression has become so self-destructive that he’s been taken off active duty. Shikamaru, along with the rest of the Konoha 12 (minus Neji and Sasuke), get together and discuss what to do. Tenten believes that Lee being a nanny would be the perfect thing. And so Rock Lee is sent to Suna, hired by Shikamaru and Temari as their live-in nanny...

We Need Not Be Yellow Tulips in a Garden of Gardenia’s, Yet We Go the Way of the Red Camellia: true to form, I decided that a hanahaki fic was something I had to do, and I was not going to pass up the chance at being as Extra As Possible with the flowery language, ergo the ridiculous title. I’ve gotten part way through the first chapter of this fic, but the whole thing is roughly plotted out and each chapter title is just as extra as the whole fic’s title.

Thirteen Strokes: so this is a fic I have--once again--had on my mind for ages, and--once again, because I am nothing if not a caricature of myself--inspired by a Florence+the Machine song, All This and Heaven Too. I started writing this the other night, as I wanna use it for GaaLee bingo. It’ll be 13 chapters, as per the 13 strokes that it takes to make the character for love, ai, in Japanese. The fic is from Gaara’s PoV, and follows his journey with and his relationship to love, with lots of worldbuilding and politics because it wouldn’t be an Eeri Original without those things.

Scarification: this is another idea for bingo based around the prompt shinshoubyou, which is a fictional disease where your emotions cause physical marks on you

Fill in the [  ]: another bingo idea, based around the prompt bouaishoukoigun, the fictional disease where you forget the person you love if it’s unrequited.

The Eagle’s Augury: an idea that allows me to play around with more worldbuilding and focus on Karura. In this fic, the curse (mentioned briefly on the Naruto wikia) that has led to every single Kazekage being assassinated, is coming for Gaara, and Karura is trying to warn him from beyond the grave. At the same time, Temari and Shikamaru’s marriage is approaching, and their ceremony is being held in Suna, with all the fan fair a marriage for someone from the Kazekage line should see. Again, another fic inspired by Miss Florence+the Machine, the song is Mother

Pomegranate Sun: this is a fic that I am... so excited about. Another fic that was originally inspired by a Queen song, Under Pressure, and has of course taken on a life of its own. This fic, I am actually going to be writing with @ghoste-catte! It’s an arranged marriage trope, and I’m super pumped for it! We’ve only got a little bit started, and it has obviously not taken priority for either of us since we both have a lot of fics on our plates.

The Ballad of the Dragon and the Phoenix: this is a fic I’m really excited but is going to take a LOT of research to get off the ground. I had this idea sometime last year, I wanna say? This fic is another self-indulgent headcanon about Lee’s origins, his family, etc. This fic starts when Gaara shows up on Lee’s doorstep, asking him to accompany him to another country for reasons Lee cannot understand. Gaara has been in talks with Phoenix Kingdom, hoping to forge a new relationship only to find that the Emperor wants to use shinobi for militaristic purposes. Lee doesn’t understand what help he could possibly offer the Kazekage, but he can’t very well turn him down.

okay, i’m gonna stop there. these are the ones I have titles and documents for, and honestly that’s probably way more than you wanted to know about lol

5. What character that you’re writing do you most identify with? 

Despite the fact that most of my fics end up from Gaara’s PoV, I actually identify with Lee the most!

8. Is what you like to write the same as what you like to read?

Yes! Which is hard to find, tbh, because I am a sucker for political dramas with slow burn romances, but I don’t see a lot of that in the GaaLee fandom. I’m not as into like slice of life or short stories where the characters get together quick, I’m really not into established relationship fics unless it’s a sequel, so I tend to avoid those. I like AUs but it really depends on the AU, because I ultimately prefer the canon and I love seeing the way people write the shinobi world and all its rules and cultures and things. I’m just a big fan of worldbuilding, politics, and slow slow burns. Not this 25k SLOW BURN! crap because that is NOT a slow burn. I wanna see a fic that’s 200k words in and they still haven’t even figured out they’re in love! I like stories I can really sink my teeth into, ya know?

17. Do you think readers perceive your work - or you - differently to you? What do you think would surprise your readers about your writing or your motivations?

Oh gosh. I generally don’t think too much about it except like hoping people don’t think I’m like a stuck up asshole because of how I talk about my writing, writing in general, my hcs, etc. I mean, obviously I don’t expect everyone in this fandom to like me--and there are ppl I’ve gone out of my way to be vocally against because they do nasty shit--but largely I feel like I come across as too intense, so even the general population of GaaLee fans that I do want to interact with I’m always a lil nervous that people secretly don’t like me and basically are like “oh god this bitch again” when they see me in the tags. But I just get really excited and invested in my ideas, and honestly for the longest time this fandom was SO small and there weren’t a lot of people putting out content regularly so it was like a handful of us so I think it made me more emphatic about GaaLee lol I think I always like assume people aren’t as excited about my writing as I am or that people are like “too much politic, i need more romance”.

I’m always surprised when people really love my AUs, like Kado or Find Me have had such fantastic reception, and it’s like people just eat that shit up so much. And then I look at like Alliance or Art of Love and get kind of confused because I think by comparison those are more interesting and more developed than my AUs. I put a shit ton of work into everything I write, especially anything that requires research, so it’s not to say that I do less work per say, just that I feel like TAoL and things like it are more interesting and more developed, and the relationship feels.... somehow more to me there than in an AU.

a lot of my motivation really just comes from the lack of content this fandom had for so many years, and the fact that Naruto could have been a much more interesting series and I love worldbuilding so much. I think my motivation for each fic is different though. Like Alliance was started because I wanted to write something different from what was mainly in the fandom at the time because mind you I started that in 2010. But my motivation for TAoL is more wanting to tell a beautiful story with a complex narrative that looks at the failings of the shinobi world. Whereas like any slice of life fic is really just meant to be a fun break. And sometimes I write something literally just because I wanted to fulfill that trope for the GaaLee fandom--again, a lot of my ideas have been sitting for years and years and years (TAoL was an idea I had literally right after starting Alliance, but I didn’t get to it until 2017), so a lot of ideas that are old are because at the time that trope hadn’t been fulfilled yet in the fandom though that’s changing a lot with the recent GaaLee Renaissance of the last couple years.