#lil bit of mayo

[macaroni-rascal]

canned tuna in oil >>>>>>>>>>>>>>> canned tuna in water

[reasonsforhope]

When Swiss cardiologist Thomas F. Lüscher attended an international symposium in Turin, Italy, last summer, he encountered an unusual “attendee:” Suzanne, Chat GPT’s medical “assistant.” Suzanne’s developers were eager to demonstrate to the specialists how well their medical chatbot worked, and they asked the cardiologists to test her. 

An Italian cardiology professor told the chatbot about the case of a 27-year-old patient who was taken to his clinic in unstable condition. The patient had a massive fever and drastically increased inflammation markers. Without hesitation, Suzanne diagnosed adult-onset Still’s disease. “I almost fell off my chair because she was right,” Lüscher remembers. “This is a very rare autoinflammatory disease that even seasoned cardiologists don’t always consider.”

Lüscher — director of research, education and development and consultant cardiologist at the Royal Brompton & Harefield Hospital Trust and Imperial College London and director of the Center for Molecular Cardiology at the University of Zürich, Switzerland — is convinced that artificial intelligence is making cardiovascular medicine more accurate and effective. “AI is not only the future, but it is already here,” he says. “AI and machine learning are particularly accurate in image analysis, and imaging plays an outsize role in cardiology. AI is able to see what we don’t see. That’s impressive.” 

At the Royal Brompton Hospital in London, for instance, his team relies on AI to calculate the volume of heart chambers in MRIs, an indication of heart health. “If you calculate this manually, you need about half an hour,” Lüscher says. “AI does it in a second.” 

AI-Assisted Medicine

Few patients are aware of how significantly AI is already determining their health care. The Washington Post tracks the start of the boom of artificial intelligence in health care to 2018. That’s when the Food and Drug Administration approved the IDx-DR, the first independent AI-based diagnostic tool, which is used to screen for diabetic retinopathy. Today, according to the Post, the FDA has approved nearly 700 artificial intelligence and machine learning-enabled medical devices.

The Mayo Clinic in Rochester, Minnesota, is considered the worldwide leader in implementing AI for cardiovascular care, not least because it can train its algorithms with the (anonymized) data of more than seven million electrocardiograms (ECG). “Every time a patient undergoes an ECG, various algorithms that are based on AI show us on the screen which diagnoses to consider and which further tests are recommended,” says Francisco Lopez-Jimenez, director of the Mayo Clinic’s Cardiovascular Health Clinic. “The AI takes into account all the factors known about the patient, whether his potassium is high, etc. For example, we have an AI-based program that calculates the biological age of a person. If the person in front of me is [calculated to have a biological age] 10 years older than his birth age, I can probe further. Are there stressors that burden him?”

Examples where AI makes a sizable difference at the Mayo Clinic include screening ECGs to detect specific heart diseases, such as ventricular dysfunction or atrial fibrillation, earlier and more reliably than the human eye. These conditions are best treated early, but without AI, the symptoms are largely invisible in ECGs until later, when they have already progressed further...

Antioniades’ team at the University of Oxford’s Radcliffe Department of Medicine analyzed data from over 250,000 patients who underwent cardiac CT scans in eight British hospitals. “Eighty-two percent of the patients who presented with chest pain had CT scans that came back as completely normal and were sent home because doctors saw no indication for a heart disease,” Antioniades says. “Yet two-thirds of them had an increased risk to suffer a heart attack within the next 10 years.” In a world-first pilot, his team developed an AI tool that detects inflammatory changes in the fatty tissues surrounding the arteries. These changes are not visible to the human eye. But after training on thousands of CT scans, AI learned to detect them and predict the risk of heart attacks. “We had a phase where specialists read the scans and we compared their diagnosis with the AI’s,” Antioniades explains. “AI was always right.” These results led to doctors changing the treatment plans for hundreds of patients. “The key is that we can treat the inflammatory changes early and prevent heart attacks,” according to Antioniades. 

The British National Health Service (NHS) has approved the AI tool, and it is now used in five public hospitals. “We hope that it will soon be used everywhere because it can help prevent thousands of heart attacks every year,” Antioniades says. A startup at Oxford University offers a service that enables other clinics to send their CT scans in for analysis with Oxford’s AI tool.

Similarly, physician-scientists at the Smidt Heart Institute and the Division of Artificial Intelligence in Medicine at Cedars-Sinai Medical Center in Los Angeles use AI to analyze echograms. They created an algorithm that can effectively identify and distinguish between two life-threatening heart conditions that are easy to overlook: hypertrophic cardiomyopathy and cardiac amyloidosis. “These two heart conditions are challenging for even expert cardiologists to accurately identify, and so patients often go on for years to decades before receiving a correct diagnosis,” David Ouyang, cardiologist at the Smidt Heart Institute, said in a press release. “This is a machine-beats-man situation. AI makes the sonographer work faster and more efficiently, and it doesn’t change the patient experience. It’s a triple win.”

Current Issues with AI Medicine

However, using artificial intelligence in clinical settings has disadvantages, too. “Suzanne has no empathy,” Lüscher says about his experience with Chat GPT. “Her responses have to be verified by a doctor. She even says that after every diagnosis, and has to, for legal reasons.”

Also, an algorithm is only as accurate as the information with which it was trained. Lüscher and his team cured an AI tool of a massive deficit: Women’s risk for heart attacks wasn’t reliably evaluated because the AI had mainly been fed with data from male patients. “For women, heart attacks are more often fatal than for men,” Lüscher says. “Women also usually come to the clinic later. All these factors have implications.” Therefore, his team developed a more realistic AI prognosis that improves the treatment of female patients. “We adapted it with machine learning and it now works for women and men,” Lüscher explains. “You have to make sure the cohorts are large enough and have been evaluated independently so that the algorithms work for different groups of patients and in different countries.” His team made the improved algorithm available online so other hospitals can use it too...

[Lopez-Jimenez at the Mayo Clinic] tells his colleagues and patients that the reliability of AI tools currently lies at 75 to 93 percent, depending on the specific diagnosis. “Compare that with a mammogram that detects breast tumors with an accuracy of 85 percent,” Lopez-Jimenez says. “But because it’s AI, people expect 100 percent. That simply does not exist in medicine.”

And of course, another challenge is that few people have the resources and good fortune to become patients at the world’s most renowned clinics with state-of-the-art technology.

What Comes Next

“One of my main goals is to make this technology available to millions,” Lopez-Jimenez says. He mentions that Mayo is trying out high-tech stethoscopes to interpret heart signals with AI. “The idea is that a doctor in the Global South can use it to diagnose cardiac insufficiency,” Lopez-Jimenez explains. “It is already being tested in Nigeria, the country with the highest rate of genetic cardiac insufficiency in Africa. The results are impressively accurate.” 

The Mayo Clinic is also working with doctors in Brazil to diagnose Chagas disease with the help of AI reliably and early. “New technology is always more expensive at the beginning,” Lopez-Jimenez cautions, “but in a few years, AI will be everywhere and it will make diagnostics cheaper and more accurate.”

And the Children’s National Hospital in Washington developed a portable AI device that is currently being tested to screen children in Uganda for rheumatic heart disease, which kills about 400,000 people a year worldwide. The new tool reportedly has an accuracy of 90 percent. 

Both Lopez-Jimenez and Lüscher are confident that AI tools will continue to improve. “One advantage is that a computer can analyze images at 6 a.m. just as systematically as after midnight,” Lüscher points out. “A computer doesn’t get tired or have a bad day, whereas sometimes radiologists overlook significant symptoms. AI learns something and never forgets it.”

-via Reasons to Be Cheerful, March 1, 2024. Headers added by me.

--

Note:

Okay, so I'm definitely not saying that everything with AI medicine will go right, and there won't be any major issues. That's definitely not the case (the article talks about some of those issues). But regulation around medicines is generally pretty tight, and

And if it goes right, this could be HUGE for disabled people, chronically ill people, and people with any of the unfortunately many marginalizations that make doctors less likely to listen.

This could shave years off of the time it takes people to get the right diagnosis. It could get answers for so many people struggling with unknown diseases and chronic illness. If we compensate correctly, it could significantly reduce the role of bias in medicine. It could also make testing so much faster.

(There's a bunch of other articles about all of the ways that AI diagnoses are proving more sensitive and more accurate than doctors. This really is the sort of thing that AI is actually good at - data evaluation and science, not art and writing.)

This decade really is, for many different reasons, the beginning of the next revolution in medicine. Luckily, medicine is mostly pretty well-regulated - and of course that means very long testing phases. I think we'll begin to really see the fruits of this revolution in the next 10 to 15 years.

[sodastereos]

canned tuna can be so good this is my truth

[sunflawyer]

good mayomorning friends!!! ☀️🌻🧡

another Abby in sunflower field doodle! she's traveling the world!!

say hi to her!! ☀️

[foxsnails]

i got into making my own mayo recently and I'm never going back to regular mayo, only problem is now I cant stop eating sandwiches

[tinythebunni]

🏹perv!rafe peeking up reader’s uniform whenever she’s taking her shift as a waitress. (she’s middle class, but rafey somehow doesn’t care that much when it comes to her) he sits in a booth, always calling her over, pretending to drop something so he can watch her bed over, seeing her pretty lil panties (or those transparent skin colored tights).💐

oh em gosh ur a genius!!!

dis is dedicated 2 u nonnie baby!

🍭🫧🐬

you had noticed him come in. his 6’5 stature always standing out. he tried to b discreet so it didn’t seem like he was trying 2 b a perv but you were very observant! he’d always sit in a booth adjacent to the bar at the restaurant where you worked at.

he would always take his time ordering, as if he didn’t order the same thing everyday. he’d great you with the sweetest smile on his face, his eyes festering with something deeper, something that set a familiar feeling off inside you. he seemed like he came right after golfing, his bag in his truck and his jeans with slight grass stains in them. his thighs seemed to be bursting out of his jeans. the thought of riding them made your thighs clench as he waved you over to take his order.

he rubbed his stubble with hand as he looked over the menu one last time before ordering. he always asked for the same thing every day. an all american burger with no onion or mayo, and extra bacon. he never got any sides, and if he got a drink it was always bourbon or plain water.

you turned around after taking his order when you heard his wallet fall. oh no! you bent over to pick it up, your uniform skirt sliding up just enough to expose the curve of your ass and your pantie clad cunt. you had no idea how much you were teasing him right now. you turned and handed him his wallet with your face on fire.

“thanks babydoll. and thanks for the view too.” he said as he manspread in the booth, his gaze making you feel hot all over. you simply nodded, your words getting the best of you, your brain basically turning off.

while you basically having a crisis, rafe was daydreaming about you. the shimmery tights you wore under your pink and white skirt. the white heels with the slight scuff on the bottom. ones he would love to have over his shoulder while fucking you. he didn’t really care about you being a pogue. you were beautiful enough to be a kook, or to be dating one. if anyone said anything about his girl, he would kill them.

you could feel rafe’s pervy gaze on you all the time. he walked you to your apartment when your shift was over. it was silent but a comfortable silence. you couldn’t afford a car and since he was walking you home, you didn’t really need the bus!

once you got there, you looked up at him, batting your eyes and biting your lip. “come inside?” you asked, voice wavering with the slightest hint of hesitance. rafe’s eyes widened a bit before the usual smirk he had on his face appeared. “of course baby.”

[pygmi-says-hi]

writing tips - sick/poisoning fics

so since you guys ate up the injury thing like holy fuck 1.5k notes in 24 hours??? hello?? I thought I'd do a semi-related one about sickness.

disclaimer because you guys thoroughly reminded me of this: medicine is fucking weird and everybody reacts differently. this is blanket statement information, not the mayo clinic. idc that 'oh my cousin had that disease and he didn't have that symptom' okay whatever like sorry but that's not the point of this post. this is just to eliminate egregious mistakes. I'm not looking into every possible way this illness will show up. chill your tits. the comments on the last post were just like. dude. chill.

aurkay so.

poison-related illness.

okay poisoning is such a cool concept and there are literally so many cool effects it can have. Idk why everyone goes with the holy trinity of hallucinations, fainting and nausea. like yeah those are good but there are so many other things???

like internal bleeding. literally the best. I love it. It's slow but hella deadly and sometimes people can't even feel it/don't know what's happening. that's such a great option for whump or some angst. like they didn't know until it was too late. gold.

also - some poisons are not dissolvable in food or drink. Like certain medicines, they lose effectiveness if digested instead of injected intravenously. obviously you don't have to know that but if you wanna get into it, do a lil bit of research. could bring up some intriguing scenarios.

infection or sepsis

yoooo. sepsis is lowkey terrifying. infections are similar to actual illness but are caused because of an unsanitary wound. lots of interesting symptoms to browse here:

fever, cramps, fainting, hallucinations, dehydration, delirium, nausea, sores, sepsis, organ failure and on and on and on.

infection happens so fast too. like forget to change a bandage once and boom it could be infected. (is that a whump opportunity I hear...?)

sepsis is like the point of no return pretty much. Unless you've got crazy medical technology, sepsis is really really bad. basically, it's when the body overreacts and starts to damage its own tissue. leading to organ failure and then eventually death. spooky.

regular illness

this just means like a virus or something. a key point of viruses is an elevated temperature and dehydration; the body's primary responses. burn the bug out and dehydrate it.

depending on the illness, symptoms will vary. respiratory infections or viruses involve congestion, coughing, sore throats, a rattly breathing sound, and productive coughing (phlegm and mucus). Stomach illnesses include cramps, nausea, dehydration, dizziness, low blood sugar, weight loss, and diarrhea. these can overlap but mostly those are the groupings.

with fevers come achy joints and sensitive skin. fever is inflammation, like mild swelling everywhere because of how intense the antibody reaction is.

dehydration sets in really quick. really bad dehydration induces dizziness, nausea, diarrhea, delirium, lethargy, and fainting. great motivation for a whumper to possibly restrict whumpee's water intake...?

just some prompts! kinda low energy today sorry I haven't been posting, xox

[markatoto]

fan of breasts?

chicken breasts? yeah! they are, maybe & arguably, one of the most delicious part of the chicken. well, maybe next to drumsticks (which i personally prefer for things like fried chicken, or soups). in particular, i like to use chicken breasts for making katsu, which, lemme tell ya, i'm no expert cook, but id like to think that i do a pretty good job.

matter of fact, if you want an extremely simple recipe, here's how i personally make chicken katsu (all off the top of my head, so some slight details might be missing, so please bear with me):

you'll need a few ingredients

panko (any sort of breadcrumbs will work, but panko is just the brand i use)

cookin' oil (usually simple vegtable oil will work)

the actual chicken breast, of course

the ol' traditional: salt and pepper

one egg (u dont need any more than one egg, typically)

if u wanna make things extra crunchy, having some corn starch mixed in with garlic powder + onion powder for some extra seasoning. maybe even a scoosh of paprika for that yummy (i personally like using this filipino chicken mixture called "crispy fry", which is usually used for fried chicken, but it works here too. it's usually meant for fried chicken drumstick, but what is katsu but a different kind of fried chicken)

anyways, here's how u wanna do things:

take out your chicken breast, pat it down with a paper towel so that it aint wet on the surface and either: slice it so that the chicken breast is about inch and a quarter (or so) thick OR use a mallet to make it around that thickness. youll want your chicken flat as possible, but not too flat! i think you know what i mean.

salt and peppa that mothafucka, both sides (OPTIONAL STEP 2B: it's at this point id probably mix my chicken breast with the starch mixture/crispy fry. it just gives a lil extra flavour and crunch that i enjoy. but this is just me, u dont really gotta do it)

crack open an egg and put it in a bowl. MIX IT UP

put your flattened (and maybe crispy fry seasoned) chicken in the egg. get it drenched, you want that panko to stick to that shit

what i like to do is i like to put panko in a plastic container with a lid, then i put the chicken in the container, close the lid up and just SHAKE it so that its nice and evenly coated. super simple and fun and WAY cleaner to deal with after the fact LOL

pop your oil in your pan. put in generous amount, enough that your chicken wont necessarily be drowning, but enough that your chicken will be sufficiently fried. heat that up until the oil reaches that perfect temperature of around 350'F (that is THE temp for doing any deep frying)

pop your chicken on the pan and leave it frying on the one side for, id say, approximately 4-5 minutes. youre going to have to keep a close watch on it. make sure that panko is that GOOD crispy brown on each side. over all it should take you like…. 7-9 minutes for your katsu to be done.

BEFORE YOU EAT... make sure the internal temp of the chicken is around 160 - 165'F. if it is, it's good to go. take it out and, what i like to do is get a plate and pop on a paper towel to let the katsu dry off all the excess oil. even though its off the pan, that shit is STILL cookin, so youll want to leave it alone for like… a minute or two. plus if you eat it now you'll totally burn your tongue and that's the WORST feeling in the world

and after all that, your katsu is done! get some jasmine (white) rice, put on some katsu sauce and some japanese mayo with a lil bit of furikake for that slight seaweed flavoring and youll be GOOD to go!!

so yeah, i guess you can say i'm a fan of breasts.

[thelunarbar]

I love this all so much!

For some reason all I could think the first time I watched it was the Polar Express and idk why. Ig bc that movie’s always kinda freaked me out. The animation is weird.

Also despite there being no props or special effects(mostly 😉) I could visualize the scene so well! And I think that speaks volumes about their acting and storytelling abilities!

STRANGE NOISES FROM THE HOLE IN THE WALL HEADCANONS/INTERPRETATIONS UHHH OBVIOUS SPOILERS. CLARISSA CENTRIC CAUSE. HOLY SHIT

clarissa is to locomotion as clara is to the nutcracker. she's the kid who dreamed him into existence hundreds of years ago. i know he says he's older than the devil - i think that's still plausible, he's existed since thought but wasn't attached to the Silver Line or brought into physical existence until clarissa, lonely or in danger or just bored, imagined a world where she could escape from her everyday life and live as a grown-up(? maybe? since benjamin/timothy/billy seemed to age up as soon as he went through the portal?), with freedom and whimsy and eventually a relationship with the friendly driver.

why do i say this? because otherwise im really fucking confused lmao, that first scene where clarissa and loco are introduced is strange in the context of the end of the play. they seem to have known each other for a good while before they get on the train. they act like a young couple who's stumbled upon the silver line as an escape from danger and now they're excited for their new life in a new, safe world. except that loco also says he's been driving the train for years.

(looking back, that very much feels like a scenario from a child's imagination - or perhaps a dream - where of course he's been doing this for years, that's his job, but of course they're glad they've found the train together, this is a new experience for her so it's just an extension of her perspective)

but clara is, she says, a child when she gets on the train. idk how old "little girl" is, but if we run with this headcanon and also assume that the timeline is both linear and literal, she's imagining herself in some form of a sexual relationship with loco at a pretty young age.

i posit that this can be reconciled in several ways (some more disturbing or inappropriate than others), but one thing that could be considered is that the first scene where loco and clarissa are introduced is symbolic of their relationship over the course of the train's history. depending on how old clarissa was when she first dreamt the world into existence, she might not have even been very aware of loco, and spent her time just enjoying the escapism or whatever. after a few years or however long, she starts to get older and decides to learn how she's actually done this, maybe spends a long time trying to understand exactly what's going on. maybe her research leads her to a relationship with loco, i don't know. they do get on the train together, maybe, when they're both young (or, well, relatively speaking) and new to the world, and loco eventually has been driving the train for years and years and clarissa makes it a bit more tolerable with some companionship after a long lonely time. but those things don't happen simultaneously, because i think those things don't really work simultaneously. that scene is a sort of speedrun/amalgamation of how the two of them have interacted over the years. and yeah i guess that means they fucked at one point in there

(im going to be transparent, some of that is a bit of cope/rationalization. i think loco and the conductor are very exes/begrudging coworkers vibes, but i do like clarissa and loco together as well - unsettlingly powerful girl x eldritch being with a soft spot is a very good trope. and im trying to make it work out okay? give me a break lol. you don't have to agree with me on this, but once i see a luke and tom couple with a fun and compelling dynamic i will not let them go even if the ethics get a bit hard to explain later on. sorry, anyways moving on)

additionally, and i probably should have said this earlier, a reason i think this whole nutcracker theory holds up is because clarissa holds a sort of unique power in the world. she's been on the silver line for hundreds of real-years, who knows how many train-years, and still remembers her name and something of her old life. loco isn't hostile to her, even confirming her memory of her name and reminding her of her birthdate. with everyone else (ex. benjamin), he actively discourages them from remembering their lives. despite seemingly being one of the oldest passengers, she doesn't transform for hundreds of years. she obviously has some significance.

you know how that ties in? if this is clarissa's world, if her mind is what created the whole thing, then i think it makes sense to assume it's tied to her. as she begins to question her surroundings, then panic as she realizes she can't leave, her emotional and/or mental state becomes less stable, less utopic, less perfect. the dream begins to turn into a nightmare. and it becomes. well. an ouroboros. the snake eats its own tail and the train goes in circles and the escapist fantasy clarissa once loved becomes a prison of her own design. trapped in the very thing that was supposed to save her.

maybe that's why anthony and benjamin can get out when they do - as clarissa's world decays, as she finally begins to become part of the nightmare, as she melds with the train, the world has to shift a bit. it's reaching the point of no return - once clarissa has been fully sucked in, the train will never stop again. falling into an infinite nothing. but in that moment, there's one final chance for the conductor to stall locomotion, one final leap that could at last pull benjamin and anthony and everyone who's been sucked in by clarissa's black hole of a nightmare out of the portal and back into the real world.

and now, clarissa has lost three hundred years of a life that should never have lasted so long. gained perhaps thousands of years of memories of joy and connection and despair and panic and forever forever forever. and she is once again trapped in a vessel of her own making - her body is that of the child she has not been for lifetimes. her world is dead and gone - not just the world she created, but the world she escaped from as well. what of locomotion, that brief flash of connection? does he even exist anymore? who is she, now? who was she? where can she possibly go from here?

shoutout delirium_undead on discord for going along with the nutcracker theory and helping me flesh this out. your ideas are so galaxy brained and i am forever in your debt

[mamayan]

★MANNERS☆

Shigaraki Tomura x Fem! Reader x Shuichi Iguchi (Spinner)

Tomura and Spinner decide Katsuki’s lil sis needs to learn some manners. Tomura is happy to help.

TW: DARK CONTENT • NONCON (full on) • NSFW • Alcohol consumption • Forced alcohol consumption (anally) • Abuse/Manipulation • Gaslighting • Piss • Forced Enema (using beer) • Oral (M) • PIV • Rough Sex • Degradation/Humiliation • Fem! Reader • Quirkless/College AU • Not proof read!

A/N: Don’t come for me, I had a dream and needed to get it out lol

“Man don’t fuckin’—! Shit! Go left! Go fuckin’ left dammit’! NO! Fuck!” The controller went sailing across the room, hitting drywall and knocking down a corner of a poorly taped up poster near the stairwell.

“Hey dickwad, watch the fuckin’ face,” Dry eyes, bloodshot from staring at the tv all night, looked up.

You looked pissed, hair messy and face and clothing crumpled like you’d just rolled out of bed.

“It three in the morning you shitheads, shut up!” Your screech was akin to a pterodactyl, eyes blazing with fury as you pointed a manicured finger at all of them. “I have class in the morning! Shut this shit off and go to bed.” Like the whirlwind you appeared as, you were gone, stomping loudly up the cheap wooden stairs leading up from the basement smelling of stale beer and weed.

“What a—,”

“Cunt.” Tomura finished, looking at his friend with a roll of his eyes.

“She always such a bitch?” Tomura asks, curiously looking up at your ass as you slam the door shut behind you.

Shuichi looked awkward, “She’s his lil sis, so yeah, kind of always a bitch.”

“No shit? She’s firecracker’s sister?” Tomura looked shocked by the information before scoffing. “Makes sense then,” he’s back to focusing on the game, and the two resume their shouting contest at the tv.

They don’t know they’d be getting redecorated with kitchen condiments when they emerged from downstairs.

“Who the fuck?!” Spinner was nearly in tears, hot sauce directly in his eyes.

Tomura was oddly silent though despite standing slumped with ketchup and mayo dripping down his cheek, glaring balefully beneath his bangs as you snorted and tossed the empty bottle of mustard onto the floor. “I know shit for brains at least pays rent here, but you don’t,” you’re once again pointing a finger at him. “Listen crusty, me and my bro pay most of the mortgage, and then the other half is paid by Touya’s rich daddy and his pocket change.” Shuichi’s glare flattens a bit in fear under your icy stare as you glance at him like a bug beneath your foot. “You come over here all the damn time just to scream at the tv and lose, so do us all a favor, and stop showing your lotion needing ass around anymore.”

You leave just like that, finally feeling free from the incessant noise and nonsense as you get ready for your first class of the day, knowing your lab in the evening would be followed by a good night’s rest, finally.

Or not—

You return in the evening to another house party, furiously wondering which idiot set it up this time. Was it Katsuki or Touya? Shuichi was too much a follower and introvert to set up his own. The entire neighborhood was awake it seemed and eager to get drunk and wild, college students spilling out the seams of your home as you groan and push your way inside. Hands grab at you from all angles, only to feel the prick of your sharp nails in retaliation.

You spotted the spiky blonde hair of your idiot brother, his scowl matching your own as you confront him.

“The fuck dude?”

“Don’t fuck dude me, th’fuck’r doin’ home early?” He’s clearly intoxicated despite his stone faced demeanor, speech slurred as he sways a little. A pretty girl is looking at you with irritation for having interrupted her capture of prey.

“Put the nails away Babezilla, he’s my fuckin’ brother,” you sneer, rolling your eyes as you level him with a new found glare from the depths of hell.

“Everyone better be out before midnight or I’m lighting this shit on fire and claiming the insurance on the house and your body.”

“D’you take out insurance on my fuckin’ life?”

“Fuck around and find out.” With that you leave, Katsuki’s stunned face slowly morphing into one of rage as he screams out after you, held back by the girl half his size holding on to him like a desperate dog owner to their hound who smells blood.

Unbeknownst to you, you’re being watched. Carefully. As you sashay around the dirty house party, despite your terrible attitude, telling people what time to leave.

“I think she needs to learn a lesson in manners.” Shuichi glances over at Tomura, watching the young male scratch as his neck till red begins to pull up and spill. The crimson against his almost grayish skin looks ghastly.

“Y-yeah man…” something about the violent look in those garnet eyes makes him nervous.

“Go tell her I’m trying to take a piss on her bed.”

“Dude what? Why would I do that?” Shuichi looks stunned, making a face of pure confusion and revulsion. “That’s fuckin’ gross.” He receives an eye roll, chuckling beneath his breath.

“Just do it Spinner, remember where her room is?” Tomura points out, cocking a brow as if the purple haired male would catch on. He doesn’t, but Shuichi doesn’t want to admit so, nodding with a look of hesitation. “What exactly are you going to do when she gets up there?”

“Remember? A lesson in manners of course.”

Tomura happily grabs a freely left out six pack of beer, the glass long bottles cool and still dripping perspiration as they heat up in the room filled with liquored up sweaty bodies. The paper handle carefully balancing the weight of each one as he strolls up stairs, finishing his own drink of mixed hard liquors that still haven’t hit his system fully yet. Your room is on the third floor, more of a loft than anything, where you’d had a wall and door built to block out noise and add privacy. You have the most sound proof room in the house, the most secluded room in the house, and the most secure room in the house. Your brother made sure of it, throwing up extra locks as you insisted on getting a house with him near campus. Tomura is happy he found this information out through Shuichi, using his gaming friend to siphon out everything there is to know about you.

Despite your mean attitude, you’re quite the good friend. Well liked and adored on campus, pretty girl with a cute smile when you chose to use it. His own lips crack as they pull up into a grin, easily finding your room and closing the door. A normal bedroom, nothing special, with cute added decorations here and there as well as your books and study supplies left on your desk and bedside table. Tomura leaves the beer on your desk, finishing his drink and throwing the plastic red cup to the floor as he grunts and unzips his pants, freeing his limp chub as he steps up onto your bed.

He wasn’t kidding. He pissed all over your cute stuffed animals, pillows and blankets, releasing his foul pent up urine where you sleep.

“Ah fuck,” he groans, head falling back as he relaxes and fully empties his bladder just as the door slams open and you enter.

“No fuckin’ way— YOU SICK FUCKIN’ ANIMAL! THAT’S DISGUSTING!” Your shriek falls on deaf ears, the party drowning out your screeching perfectly. He doesn’t even turn his body, only his head as he looks down at your seething face with a lopsided grin.

“Aw, decided to join the fun now, Princess?” His scratchy rough voice isn’t slurred in the least, and it doesn’t take a lot to guess he’s mostly sober. Tomura shakes his cock a few times, making sure every drop hit your now soaked bed, before pulling up his boxers alone.

“Lock the door Spin.” He orders casually, and the ever eager Shuichi obeys, eyes wide in shock because Tomura really did it. He’s almost impressed, feeling something in his chest swell to see you so upset. All the times you’d mocked him as a loser who couldn’t afford to pay rent… it was true but that was besides the point.

“The fuck do you think you’re doing shit for brains?!” Shuichi flinched when you reeled on him now, but he held his ground as Tomura hopped to the floor, dropping his pants entirely now and kicking them off. It was comical the look on your face, eyes going wide and a hint of fear tinting your features before you masked it with rage. “You want to die or something? My brother will—,”

“Your brother is getting his cock gobbled like a turkey on Thanksgiving by the bitch I paid to do it. He’s not doing shit else tonight.” Tomura’s smile is vile, white teeth offset by his pale sickly skin as he chuckles, removing his shirt next.

The marks on his body can only be from some sort of self harm, scratch marks everywhere, scabs covering a majority.

“I’ve always liked your nails.” He starts, slowly backing you into Shuichi who seems more nervous than you at this point. Your glare is still in place, defiant pretty eyes sparked with emotion he’s dying to extinguish. “You’re wearing makeup today too.” He notes gleefully, and the way his face lights up almost childishly sends chills down your spine. A blaring red alarm is sounding as you realize his intentions aren’t just to vandalize your room.

“Tomura stop this right now—hck!?” It catches everyone but him off guard when he slaps you across the face, sending you to the floor as you gaze dazedly at your carpet for a moment.

“Shut the fuck up,” he sneers, rolling his eyes as you cough and sputter for a second. It’s the only second he needs to grab a fistful of your hair and haul you up, dragging you to your desk and swiping everything off and onto the floor to smash your face to the table. “You always scream and yell. It’s annoying how you always run your mouth slut.”

“Stop—! I’ll really scream! HELP! SOMEO—mhm!” He doesn’t hesitate to lift your head and slam it as hard as he can onto the table, effectively and violently silencing you.

“Holy shit dude—,” Shuichi halts when Tomura levels him with a glare. His eyes drop to you, even more rocked and dazed as a few tears leak down your cheeks.

“Since you like screaming so much…” he’s scratching as his neck with his free hand, cracking his knuckles after and dropping his hand to the waist band of your leggings. Your ears still ring from the blow, allowing him to easily pull your pants and underwear down to expose your lower half. He only pulls it down halfway, exposing your cunt and bare ass.

“Hey man, maybe we should stop…” Shuichi takes another step forward, eyes nervously looking at your exposed skin and limp figure against your desk.

“Nah, this bitch is getting a lesson taught tonight.” Tomura nods for Shuichi to come closer, his friend awkwardly shuffling closer. “Hold her arms behind her back and her face down.” Tomura helps grab both of your wrists, twisting them behind your back and pressing them down. He ignores your whimper, letting Shuichi hold you down now so he could free both hands.

Shuichi simply watches as Tomura grabs a beer, biting the cap off and spitting it on the floor as he saunters closer. Taking a few swigs, he grins and crouches down behind you, laughing as you flinch away from his hand on your ass.

“P-please stop—hii!” He only answers with a sharp slap to your ass and a giggle, deforming the soft doughy flesh with his hand and nails sinking in. Spreading one cheek wide, Tomura brings the lip of the bottle to the tight rosebud of your back entrance.

“Holy shit—,”

“No! No please!”

He ignores you and Shuichi, pressing forward and breaching your ass with the bottle and delighting in the squeal you make, legs going taunt and straight as the desk and Shuichi’s grip prevents you from going anywhere as he sinks about three inches of the bottle neck inside your ass.

“Bottoms up, bitch.” Tomura laughs, tilting the bottle up and watching the liquid begin to bubble and pop, disappearing inside of you as you groan and writhe for freedom, panic and tears painting your face. Keeping the bottle in place as he forces the beer inside you, Tomura leans up and over to lick the smearing mascara running down your cheek. The salt and chalky taste making his cock swell up into a tent in his boxers.

“Fuck man, is this even okay? I-I don’t wanna go to jail or some shit,”

“You won’t. She won’t say a thing.”

“W-why?”

“Look at her cunt.”

It didn’t matter how much you cried or babbled out pleas, the slick literally dripping from your cunt to the floor in a slimy along your thighs was undeniable.

“Get your phone out and record.” They switch places so Shuichi can do as he’s told, Tomura holding you down much more roughly now.

Shuichi finds it hard to swallow as he digs past his own hard cock to grab his phone out, shakily opening up the camera and hitting film. He doesn’t need to be told to set up facing the scene, using a book shelf on the other end of the room as a stand. He takes his position again holding you, Tomura once more free to do as he pleased.

When the bottle is empty, Tomura pulls it free roughly from your stinging ass with an audible pop.

“Looks like you still got room, hm?”

“Oh god, please, Tomura stop,” your sniffling and little whines don’t soften his heart as he bites another cap off, leaning his own face against the desk to keep the contact as he pressed the new bottle inside your ass. The cool glass contrasted against your warming insides, the feeling of being full hard not to focus on as the alcohol slowly heated you. The liquid goes in faster as he tips it up high, forcing you on your tip toes to avoid tearing your poor hole as he gleefully watches the horror and humiliation on your features.

“Little butt chugging bitch likes having her ass played with huh?” Tomura teases, playfully pressing the now empty bottle in and out of your sore hole, enjoying the tiny wail you release.

“Yeah you like it.”

“I-I don’t—!” He doesn’t care to listen as he fucks you with the glass bottle head, sitting up to watch your hole take it as his cock twitches and soaked his boxers with pre-cum.

“S-shit man I’needa’,” Shuichi feels his mind go blank, pressing his denim clothed cock against your outer thigh and rutting his hips against it like a dog. Tomura snickers watching his friend blow his load in his pants, not seeing the hypocrisy when he does the same not a moment later watching you whimper and take another bottle.

He stops as three, yanking his boxers down and pressing his uncut cock-head right up against your tight hole and releasing before he can even enter.

“Shit,” he moans, pressing Shuichi out of the way to pin your body with his own weight as he rubs against your ass with his release coating your skin. “Holding all that liquid must hurt, huh?” He huffs against your neck, sucking on the skin and breaking the capillaries when he bites down hard enough to draw blood.

Your scream echoes around the room, the floor vibrating as the party downstairs rages on without a clue to your plight.

You groan at Tomura wiggles his full weight on you, your lower belly feeling like it may burst any moment, panic settling into your gut.

“I-I need to p-pee…” Tomura moans, rocking his hardening cock against you while you struggle beneath him.

“Pee then,” he grunts, focusing on rubbing against your sloppy pussy, “So fuckin’ wet. You been wantin’ this?”

“Hey man…” Shuichi had decided to join his friend in stripping to his boxers, no longer pretending to have a moral compass as he stroked his own cock to the sight before him.

“Yeah I gotcha,” Tomura easily stands and brings you up, still restrained with his hands as he drags to the bathroom attached to your room. Shuichi follows, stunned when Tomura just drops you to the floor and presses a foot on your lower abdomen.

“S’too much, please,” you writhe like a bug, Shuichi’s eyes watching as you try and get away only to be pinned harder with Tomura’s foot.

The liquid stored inside you has no where else to go but out.

“Fuckin’ nasty bitch, shit,” Tomura watches in fascination as the liquid spills out, only beer coming out as you sob and lay on the tile. Despite his words he works his cock to the sight. “Cheap enema.” He notes, grabbing your wrist and hauling you to the shower. “Turn it on Spin,” dragging your poor figure into the shower and stripping you down naked. The water is freezing at first, your flinches and pathetic pleas as Tomura dumps soap over your head and body ignored. He uses the detachable shower head to wash you like an animal, roughly soaping you up and spraying you off, careless about nearly drowning you as he washes your face a little.

He does a poor job, but you’re somewhat clean, makeup still smeared lightly on your face as your dragged out dripping wet back into your bedroom.

He doesn’t hesitate to throw you on your bed.

“Fuckin’ gross man…” Shuichi frowns, but he doesn’t hesitate to grab you despite the scent of urine turning him off slightly.

You fight now though, wildly flailing limbs struggling as you scream and wail for anyone to hear you. No one does, as Tomura shamelessly climbs into the bed with you, boxers gone and completely naked as he helps Shuichi press you to your hands and knees. Tomura positioned behind you and Shuichi by your face.

“Please… I-I’m sorry…” they pause, your voice so tiny they barely heard it.

“Speak up, whore, we can’t hear you.” Tomura yanks your face up by your hair, your neck twisting painfully back as you sob.

“I’m sorry!”

“For what?!” Tomura sneers, using your head like a joystick and rattling you around.

“F-for saying mean things, a-and throwing food o-on you…”

“That all?” He asks, cock pressed up against the entrance to your cunt threateningly.

“P-please Tomura… Shuichi…”

“Since you’re begging,” Tomura laughs, surging his hips forward and shoving his cock into your warm tight cunt. You release a silent scream this time, choking on air as his cock fills you this time, each thick inch drilling into you as he starts wildly bucking into you with little regard to your pleasure.

“Fuck her face Spin,” Tomura grunts, drawing blood on your ass as his nails bite in, fucking hard up into your pussy, soft mushroom tip unsheathing and kissing up against your cervix.

“R-right…” Shuichi feels guilty seeing your tear streaked face, wet hair clinging to your skin and watery eyes looking at him for mercy. It doesn’t stop him from cupping your jaw and lifting your head up to press his cock against your lips.

Tomura lands a sharp hit to your rear, moaning as you tighten at the bolt of pain it caused. “Better suck him good, or I’ll let him have your ass.” That seems to motivate you, soft lips parting open and accepting Shuichi’s much thicker cock into your mouth. Shuichi unexpectedly had the biggest cock you’d ever seen, the reddish tip and veiny shaft intimidating as you do your best to lick and suck despite the sweaty sour odor clinging to him.

“That’s not how sluts suck cock, is it?” Tomura growls, forcing your head forward on the hesitant Shuichi’s cock and gagging you while the purple haired man moans. “O-oh fuck!” He grips your face from the front while Tomura fucks you rough and hard from behind. “That’s it Princess! Nice and deep!” Tomura cackles, focusing back on railing you senseless while Shuichi finally snaps and face fucks you properly.

“So good—fuck, your mouth is so warm,” he’s nearly in tears himself as he feels his tip slip into your tight throat, eyes rolling back as he works his hips now, watching drool and tears mix around your mouth and drop down onto his balls as they smack your chin. “A-almost done, almost done,” he moans, loving how your oxygen deprived mind slackens your jaw more so he can slip even deeper, your tongue licking at a vein under his shaft every thrust. “So fuckin’ good wh-when you shut up, heh,” he’s delirious on pleasure, loving the submissive look in your eyes as they gaze up pleadingly at him. “Cute when this mouth is used for something productive.” Shuichi laughs breathlessly, balls drawing up tight as he finally spills down your throat. “Fuck! Swallow! Swallow it all—!” His face and body scrunch up, nearly doubling over as he presses your nose against his pelvis and comes down your throat.

You black out. Limp figure gurgling on hot spunk spilling down your face as you drop to the soaked bed while Tomura supports your lower half up to keep fucking you. Your eyes barely open as the room spins, cunt clamping down like a vice on Tomura’s cock when he uses one hand to half heartedly rub at your swollen clit.

“Shit, gonna bite my dick off,” he moans despite the almost uncomfortable tightness, working your pussy up further as you spasm and soak his lower half, eyes rolling back. “Ah fuck, that’s it bitch, make a mess!” Tomura nearly whines, hips becoming jerky as you milk him for all he’s worth, his cum finally spilling inside you now.

“Bet you ain’t on birth control huh? Gonna knock you up whore.” He grunts, trying to fuck his spend back into you with his softening cock, overstimulating himself as he moans and whimpers against your back.

When he pulls out, a string of sticky fluids connect his cock to your pussy even when he’s completely out of you. He watches with a grin as his white cum dribbles out of your used hole. “Look at that. You do have some potential after all. At least for a cock sleeve that is.” He snickers, leaving you in a heap on your bed as he and Shuichi start to dress, grabbing the phone and coming back to film the aftermath.

“Say a word and I’ll send this to everyone. Do you hear me?” He doubts you really do, the fucked out look on your face making you appear stupid as you numbly nod a little. “Now say ‘Thank you Tomura and Spinner, for using my slutty holes’.” Tears leak freely as you stutter, “Th-thank you T-Tomura a-and Spinner…for u-using my s-slutty holes…”

“Good girl. I knew we could teach you some manners.” He grins, eyes crinkling around the edges darkly as he stares at your used figure still trembling and dripping cum.

“Let’s go, I’m in the mood to game a lil,” Tomura comments, wiping his cock with your panties and stuffing them in his back pocket as he buttons and zips up his fly. Shuichi follows, nodding as he dresses and fixes his clothes, eyes not leaving you though.

“Don’t worry. We can use her again later. I still got a few more brews.” Tomura chuckles, lifting the half empty pack up.

You wake in a panic, blood pumping fast and heart pounding. Your room is as you left it, eyes scanning your clean and un-pissed in bed and sheets. Your body is clean besides a sheen of sweat coating you, hands trembling as you dip a finger into your panties to find yourself soaking wet.

Did you have a wet dream about those two losers?

As if…

You found sleep was hard to come by as you kept imagining.

Dividers/@cafekitsune

[pinkslaystation]

[Part 3] If I meant something to you.

toxic!Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Here's Part 1 and Part 2 hehehe enjoy ;> Word Count: 5k trigger warning: drugging. viewer discretion is adviced.

Dating Simon reminded you of the British economy, constant fluctuations.

He would stay over at your flat, shower you with wet kisses, and the next day he'd walk right past you as if you didn't exist.

It felt like at times Simon did really love you. He listened you to, he brushed and plaited your hair post sex, but sometimes it's like his brain would switch and his behaviour would mimic that of a ghost.

Though it been nearly 3 months since he'd popped that question in the car, you often found yourself regretting your decision.

"I do like him...but I mean- it's just, he doesn't like me back you know? Sometimes I wake up and he's just staring at me like I've just told him I've killed his dog. I mean, he doesn't have a dog I don't think, but if he did, he'd prefer the dog over me, y'know.

I don't even know why I said yes that day. I mean, he's the first real guy that's actually shown interest in me. Maybe that's why I crave his attention so much. He makes me actually enjoy being with my family, if that's so hard to believ-"

"With all due disrespect, d'ya know you?" Your neighbour answers finally.

You stare back, blood rushing to your face, "I literally live next door to you. I smile at you before I leave for work every morning-"

"So, there's nothing wrong with your face?

"What? You know me- and I'm talking about Simon, he's next door to me too..."

"What?"

"You know skull face..."

"Who?"

"Tall buff dude, y'know."

"Huh?

"Riley-"

"Oh, the guy with the big dick."

You choke on your saliva, "What- How? Um..."

"Military dude yeah? The fit blonde? Yeah, he's big, if you get what I'm saying, virgin."

You furrow your eyebrows, words trailing off, "No I'm not...I'm sorry, how'd you know..."

"Yeah, he's fucked like everyone in this building, girl. Why d'ya think he doesn't come to the flat meetings? 'Cos then he'd be surrounded by all the people he's stuck his dick in, duh." She states like it was the most obvious thing in the world, "Guy comes in, drinks a bit, and runs out."

"...I thought it was because he was nervous to see....me?" At this point, you don't know if you're telling your neighbour or asking her.

"Oh girl don't be delusional, you ain't no Beyonce. Anyway, been a while since I got that dick. Let 'im know next time you see 'im." She winks at you before, hobbling off with her walking stick.

"Yeah...sure...wait- Mrs Brenda, you're like 65... AND MARRIED-"

When the 3rd month anniversary mark finally reached, Simon decided to treat you to an expensive meal at a luxurious restaurant.

And by that I mean, 6 McNuggets at Maccies.

"They're cold, babe." He complains, slouching across you, one leg bent and propped on his seat.

Yes, Simon. Because you spent 15 minutes arguing with the worker for an extra packet of mayo. But you refrained yourself from saying that, in case you'd anger him further.

"So how's the task force?"

You've learnt very little about Simon, one part that stuck out to you was that the people he was closest to was his team in the military, naming his Captain John Price, who seemed to pop up in every conversation the two of you had.

"You got that 'lil mustache on yer face again."

"Excuse me?"

"Nah babe, it's cute. Reminds me of Captain's."

It hurt even more when he showed you a picture of John Price and you're face to face with a middle aged man with a full grown beard, who's being compared to the peach fuzz on your upper lip.

"Team's good." He sighs out of exhaustion. "Soap's engaged now, y'know."

You smile, mind suddenly racing to the thought of Simon proposing to you, but you shake it away, oddly cringing at the thought.

"'Old man's thinking of getting transferred to the States. Finally..."

The thought of Simon being jealous over his Captain was always a hidden theory for you. He'd mention it so frequently, it was as if he was keeping tabs on his superior, bringing it up at every moment at his signs of weakness. And when he'd compare Price to you, it was never in a positive light, rather one where it felt like he was looking down at Price, but through you.

You wondered if Simon had a superiority complex, and maybe that's why he'd chosen a little naive lamb like you, to project all of his insecurities onto you.

I mean, you're not gonna do anything about it are you? Nah, you're gonna take it like the good little girl you are.

I mean you are right now- literally.

His dick is cramped right in your pussy, his rounded tip rapidly kissing at your cervix. His chapped lips crash against yours, but you can't seem to ignore the faint taste of his Big Mac through his mouth.

"Can tell your cunt likes that, 'lil slut." He seethes out, through inconsistent breaths. You can barely hear him, through the sound of your sweaty bodies colliding and the ringing through your head.

You hum uncomfortably. It was gonna be a long night.

The following weekend, you find yourself spending eons getting dolled up for a get together at the base. You decorated your face with a bold smokey eye, paired with a lined red lip, only to be mocked by Simon.

"Red? We're going to base, not the circus."

So you take off the lipstick. And the eye makeup. In fact, even when you changed from a tight black pencil skirt to a matching sweatshirt and joggers combination, you still find yourself being berated by Simon.

"Getting kinda lazy with the clothes huh, love?" He asks, cocking his eyebrows towards you.

Is he for real?

Grunting in response, you look out the window, shoving your headphones in, grateful for the noise cancelling feature so you wouldn't have to sit through Simon's mouth breathing throughout the journey.

The meeting itself was as awkward as imagined. The moment the pair of you entered the room, Simon decided to detach his arm wrapped around your shoulder and immediately brisk walk to the nearest woman possible. If he was trying to fool his team to thinking he was single...boy was he good at it.

Being left out in an unfamiliar space was unfortunately not too foreign for you, and you quickly found solace by the water fountain, sipping on a plastic cup of lukewarm water.

"Bored, eh?"

You jump, having zoned out.

You turn to a man you've seen oh so many times on Simon's phone.

"Captain John Price?" You smile.

"The one and only, lass. My, a pair of sweatpants. Priorising comfort, are we?" He jokes, lightly.

"Were you expecting lingerie?"

"Pretty either way." He chuckles, and you eye the way his eyes squint as he smiles, and the smile lines painting his cheeks. You shouldn't be looking at your boyfriend's competition captain this way.

You're at peace with John. You find yourself opening up about yourself, something you now know you couldn't truly do around Simon. John cared about what you said, reacting to every joke you dropped here and there, unlike Simon, who plays connect the dots with your forehead blemishes as you rant passionately.

John chuckles, "Oh God. Work sounds intense."

You hum, admiring his laughter, which cuts off to the sound of a loud buzzing (buttplug?) coming from his back pocket. He excuses himself from the conversation, but you can't help but eavesdrop.

"John Price speaking. Yes. Uh huh-what? Another soldier? Same substance? Christ's sake...Doctor's got a name? Succiny- Succinylc- what? Okay, okay. I'm coming, gimme 20 minutes-what, now? I'm...busy" He turns to flash you a small smile, "Okay, fine. Dammit."

"You okay, seemed urgent?"

He dramatically sighs, "We both got work problems...There's been a...how do i say this...another one of our soldiers have been getting drugged?" It sounds more of a question than an answer, "We think it's some sort of new drug on the black market, and now that our enemy's have a hold of it, our soldiers...fuck, getting drugged left, right and centr- Sorry, um, unauthorized information..." He trails off, realising he's said too much.

You're ears perk up, "Drugs? What are the um, symptoms?" You can't help but be curious.

John looks around, as if to check if anyone was listening to the conversation, though most people are hammered on hardcore liquor and cigarettes. He lowers his voice, "Starts off with headaches, nausea, then there's seizures...worst case scenario is paralysis. Gotten 4 of our soldiers already, poor men, had to be medically dismissed...."

You hum, silently and unsure of what to reply with. If you were attempting to flirt with John, the mood had definitely dissipated.

"But hey, listen. You ever need a change of pace, a better job, you can call me." He grabs your hand, and messily writes his phone number with a biro, winking before he leaves.

Maybe you will call him.

As the sky becomes darker and the clock strikes past 9 P.M., you find yourself walking outside the building, searching for Simon.

"...annoying."

Huh? You peer over the corner to overhear the conversation. Was that Simon?

"..follows me around a sad 'lil shit."

Was he talking about you?

You catch a quick glance, confirming that it was indeed a drunk Simon, with who you believe was Soap.

"Her mum's hotter, too. All over me." Simon boasts, whipping out his phone, presumably to show them a picture of your mother, as it sparks a 'milf alert' comment from Soap.

"...nothing compared to her. She's like a doormat."

You look at Simon, and for a second, you swear he made deliberate eye contact with you.

"She's fuckin' spineless."

For a moment, time pauses.

...

Spineless.

You're spineless.

I mean, it may be true. But the truth doesn't always have to come out, no?

After doing so much for this man, you'e still...spineless?

Laying at the comfort of your bed, dragging a tipsy Simon out of the car and him rushing to his flat, you find yourself gazing down at the smudged ink on your palm. Maybe it's time to switch your job.

Who knows who you'll run into...

That night, you rest, dreaming about John Price.

You're in an abyss in your dreams, John's pale muscular arms wrap around your frame, with the faint scent of cigars and whisky wafting around your nose. You blink and you see the bottom of his groomed beard, and small smile resting on his tired face.

You blink once more. But this time, you don't see John Price. This time, you're staring into the sullen eyes of a skeleton-masked man, lifelessly staring straight at you with no emotion. You look down the body of Simon.

The lower half of his body was missing.

By the third blink, you jolt awake and look around, but this time you're on the floor wrapped in your quilt and covered in sweat. Very much alone.

What was this dream trying to tell you?

The jump from retail to cyber-operations was large and challenging. You went from serving customers to quite literally serving the country, from scanning items to defending the weapon's system. But 2 weeks into your new career and you feel like you've actually put your degree to some use.

Your family have been ringing you almost weekly, asking about your new position, although it's mainly your mother interrogating you about Simon.

And to say he was upset with your choice of working with the army, was an understatement, in his words, he felt like you were crowding him in all areas of his life. His home, his workplace, and now his mind.

You'd ask him to drop you off, considering he's going the same way, but he'd come up with unjustified excuses.

"Can't. Need to be there early."

"Nah, gonna distract me, love."

"Can't be seen with you." He mutters the last one, but you're not deaf and Simon can't exactly whisper very well. Sometimes you wonder why you haven't broken up with him.

So you've resorted to the next option.

Public transport. Calling John Price.

"You're not a burden, sweetheart. Who's been tellin' you that?"

You subordinate <3 But you can't say that, so you resort to casually laughing at his question. You can't help but think about the reoccurring dream you've been having, they always start the same.

You're in a abyss, and you're in the arms of John Price, you blink and suddenly face to face with the half-corpse of Simon. You're struggling to work out the deeper message of the visio-

"Love, you there? Went to lala-land or something?"

Think about John Price. Focus on him, why are you still bound to that jerk? You think.

"I'm good. So uh, how's the situation with you? And the um...drugs thing?" You look at him, your words surprising yourself, since when did you have an interest in drugs?

"Oh, uh. We're not allowed to disclose that sweetheart...besides, Simon didn't tell you? Kinda big thing here..."

Of course, Simon wouldn't tell me, why would he? You tell me, John.

You give him your best puppy dog eyes, eyebrows knitting together, "Oh..."

He runs his thick fingers through his brunette hair, adjusting himself in his seat, "Succinylcholine. There's a mixture, but that's the main component. Causes paralysis to the legs and spine...seems like that's what they wanted, to paralyse our soldiers, 7th victim this we..."

Paralysis huh. You turn to look at the passing trees outside the windows. Paralysis to the spine and legs...

By the time you reach work, you're at your computer by your desk, typing away at the lines of code on your programme, once again eavesdropping to the conversations in your vicinity.

"...it's the same location they keep getting deployed, why are they getting deployed there again?"

"Captain Price is going this time..."

"...2nd guy's in a coma now..."

The chatter dies down to the loud slam of the door: Your supervisor.

"People. Come on. Chop chop, we have deadlines to meet. Stop the chatter, fucks sake."

You get back to your screen, but you can't help but shake the unsettling feeling off your mind.

Ding!

11:26 A.M. Si:- Come outside on your break. Need to talk.

I guess you're finally breaking up.

"Getting deployed."

Simon's scarred hands caress yours, gently lifting your ring finger and slotting a shiny silver ring, with a skull stuck in the center. You think back to the times where you told Simon that you preferred gold jewelry over silver, since it complimented your skin tone better. To love is to be seen I guess.

A crowd of soldiers begin whistling at the scene, and Simon retracts his hands almost instantaneously.

"Wanted to give this to you for anniversary...but I ordered it a little late."

You hum, immediately twisting the ring around your ring. It's tight and cramped.

"How's work?" He asks, his eyes roaming around the people behind you, his gaze not falling on you once since the conversation had started.

"Oh it's goo-"

"Cool. So um, here's my key if you need something." He hands you his key, more like shoving it into your chest, before pressing a chaste kiss on your forehead and running off towards the crowd of soldiers that were now practicing drills.

Seems like you've gotten promoted from girlfriend to house-keeper.

By 8 P.M., you and a handful of your colleagues began to go home.

With your 4th cup of caffeine in your hand, you check Simon's text once more.

7:52 P.M. Si:- What time u finish Si:- 8? Si:- Too long to wait, going home

He couldn't wait 8 minutes?

As you trudge past the empty hallway, you're met face to face with the door of the lab, which you notice was half open.

You felt like a character in Alice in Wonderland. Trespassing is a crime, is it not?

A normal person would just inform a staff member and go home right? Definitely wouldn't enter the room. And definitely wouldn't head straight towards the counter that held various labelled test tubes.

Definitely wouldn't snatch a test tube labelled danger, and most definitely stuff it in their bag and run out the door, as if they haven't basically committed a crime.

But it's a good thing you wouldn't consider yourself a normal person.

The wind blows against your skin when you finally make it outside, and it feels like natures punishing you for breaking into the army's laboratory. With your bag clutched tightly against your chest, your mind begins racing - what if someone saw you? What about cameras? What if-

"There you are love. Thought I'd have to come 'n get you myself."

John leans against his range rover, wrapping his large military jacket around your shoulders, and you instantly lean into his towering frame.

"John...didn't you go home?"

He shakes his head. "Saw Simon speeding off the moment we finished, thought you needed a ride, especially at this time."

The wind blows against you again, and your smile falters, remembering the contents of your bag.

"Can we go home now? Please?"

A comforting silence accompanied the drive, with John's palm ghosting your thigh ever so slightly and you had to resist every urge in your body to just lock hands with him.

So you do.

His large hand encompassing yours completely. If his grin could widen anymore, they just did, and you swear you could see faint dimples decorating his cheeks.

But they fall just as quickly, jerking his hand back.

"Nice ring."

You're visibly confused, eyes dragging back to the tight skull band wrapped around your ring finger.

Fuck you, Simon.

When you exit John's car at the entrance of the block of flats, your eyes catch another deep brown pair of menacing eyes, standing at the balcony, hiding behind a black balaclava. You can't see the lower portion of the face, but you'd bet your life that there was a smirk hidden behind the cloth.

You grit your teeth, tossing the ring by the nearest bush as the car drives off. The grip around your bag tightens, and you remember the test tube.

If you're going to ruin my chances of love, I'll ruin your chances of life, Simon Riley.

A week later and the test tube lay aimlessly on your bedside time, alongside a small post card gifted yesterday from your truly. John Price, that is, not Simon.

Leaving soon - If I find something you like, I'll bring it for you :-D - J Price

Even the way he drew his little smiley faces warmed you.

On the other hand, Simon had shot you a single text, ignoring all the spelling mistakes.

Si:- bee home ina mont. by.

When he gets home, you're immediately breaking up with him, assigning yourself mental homework.

But for the meanwhile, you have to decide what to do with the test tube...for now you decide it's too risky to keep it at home, who knows if the wrong people get their hands on it.

So you opt to shoving into deep into your purse.

At work, as you walk back to your team's common room, you hear the commotion coming from the...laboratory?

"Doctor, how careless are you?"

"Sir...I-I-I didn't do anything! The lab was locked, I don't know who would have taken it-"

"And how are we sure you haven't stolen it? I mean for all we know, you might have the drug at home. How do we know you're a traitor and working for the other side. I should have you reported."

"Boss, you've known me for the longest! And why don't you stop shouting me and get these cameras fixed already-"

"Captain Price's gonna flip and fire his entire team when he comes back-"

"If he comes back that is-"

"Boy if you don't shut your mout-"

Scurrying to the common room, you shut the door abruptly. You don't why you stole the drug, but you do know you can't let anyone find out about what you did.

Not Simon.

Not John.

A month had nearly gone by, and a train of gifts has began coming, from small affirmation notes to bags of lego flower bouquets and teddy bears. All of course, accompanied by a small note with the signature smiley face :-D.

Considering the notes weren't hand written, you couldn't tell whether it was from Simon or John, though it was quite obvious. Even though you liked John, you couldn't help but feel some sort of sorrow towards Simon. I mean, who else does he have apart from you?

On a dark Friday evening while you and your team were getting ready to leave, the sound of shouting followed by stampede coursed through the hallway. Screams of terror broke from whom you made out to be doctors and nurses.

"What's happening?" You turn to your coworker.

"More people have gotten drugged, like 7 this time..."

You couldn't help but feel a wave of guilt washing over you, considering a sample of the weapon of the crime was quite literally concealed with your belongings.

"Oh -"

"Apparently, Captain Price and Liutentant Riley were involved."

That was enough to strike a nerve. You don't know which name hit you harder, but before your colleague could even stop you, you began sprinting down the hallway towards the hospital rooms.

By the time you reach though, it's already too late, and the doors have shut, the nurse informing you that surgeries have already begun undergoing. But for who, they didn't disclose.

It didn't matter who it was, you just had a reoccurring thought that if maybe you had left the sample alone, maybe a curve could have already been developed.

Oh God, this is your fault isn't it....?

A person's going to die in your hands, and you're not even a soldier.

With discomfort running through your nerves, you sit by the hospital rooms, your hands feeling heavy under the weight of your head, waiting to hear more from the nurses. But as they rush in and out of the room with urgency, your voice gradually drowns out by the monotonous beeping of the machines inside.

4 hours go by, and you can't tell if it from the lack of sleep or not, but the staff around you shoot you looks of pity as if you're in critical condition. Those hours in the waiting room felt like hell, and you couldn't help but notice the lack security in the building. No cameras again, huh?

"Nurse, is John Price in there?" You ask wearily, the strain in your voice was evident.

The nurse shakes her head, "It's Lieutenant Riley."

Your breath hitches, and unfortunately you can't help but a slight feeling of relief.

"Is he okay? Was he...drugged?"

The nurse clenches her jaw, "That information can't be disclos-"

"He's my boyfriend." You urge, standing up to meet the nurse eye to eye.

The palpable tension in the air was uncomfortable and pervasive, hanging over the room like a heavy fog, and the nurse eventually breaks, slowly opening the door to what looked like a corpse.

"No traces of the drugs were found in his body, but there's no way to really say in the early stages...He is displaying some symptoms however..." She reads off a clipboard.

You nod, though her words aren't really getting to your head, "Like...paralysis?" There's no movement from the bed, just the constant ringing from the machines.

The nurse pauses, "No. Headaches, and muscle pain, just the regular. Bullet shot in the shoulder, but that's been taken care off. We're still monitoring him. I'll be outside if you need anything." With that she leaves, shutting the door behind you. And you find yourself alone with Simon's corpse.

Simon's face looks like broken china, like fine art but damaged externally, yet still holding the essence of its beauty within. His features, usually composed and serene, now bore the cracks of strain and worry. His under eyes were now darker than ever, and you couldn't help but press your now tear soaked lips across his rough cheek, until you stopped.

His neck, though scarred, bore scattered red marks, which you know could be confused with a rash. But it wasn't.

They were hickies.

Fresh hickies.

It's been a month since you've last seen Simon, so you immediately rule out yourself, disregarding the fact that you haven't even been intimate with anyone in a while.

As you sit beside the bed, a surge of anger rises within you, fueled by the betrayal and disappointment coursing through your veins. You want nothing more than to confront Simon, to unleash a torrent of accusatory questions upon him, but you know it would be futile.

His chest rises and falls gently, a stark contrast to the turmoil raging within you.

The situations looks like that particular scene straight from your dreams. Dark room, alone with Simon, him laying there still.

His body is still intact, you think. Intact and littered with marks.

You try to recall what happens in the dreams after this, but you always wake up at the last second.

And you can't help but inch your hand towards your purse., the outline of the test tube screaming at you to finally use it.

Use it for the reason you had originally stolen it for.

Use me.

Drug him. It screams. It's not like he ever loved you? Francesca, remember her? The other women? Your own mother, your own flesh and blood? Think about the times he forgot your anniversary, your birthday, when he insulted you, in front of you, in front of others, hell, even behind your back! You're spineless remember.

I mean you'd be doing the world a favour, getting rid of this from this world, wouldn't you?

Wouldn't you.

John Price would be proud of you wouldn't he?

He finally be with you.

With a steady hand, you reached into your purse and retrieved the test tube, its contents glinting in the dim light of the hospital room. You hesitated for a moment, your heart pounding in your chest, before steeling yourself and uncapping the tube.

The acrid scent of the drug filled the air, its toxic fumes making you gag slightly. But you pushed past the discomfort, focusing all your attention on the task at hand. With precision, you extracted the entire liquid from the tube and carefully poured it into Simon's IV drip, mentally wincing at how effortlessly you had manipulated the situation.

You have to get rid of the drug somehow, and if it means using it against him, then so be it.

The next morning had come and you're awaken by the phone buzzing by your bedside table, the screen lighting up with John's name. You hesitate, your fingers hovering over the screen for a moment before you finally answer, steeling yourself for whatever news awaits you on the other end of the line.

"Hello?" Your voice comes out strained, betraying the anxiety churning within you.

"Hey angel, it's me," John's voice crackles through the phone, the urgency in his tone palpable. "You need to come to the hospital. It's Simon."

Without a word, you hang up the phone and hail a cab, the journey to the hospital passing in a blur of anxious thoughts and racing heartbeat. Did they find out you stole the drugs? No...how could they? The empty test tube is in your bin, at home, not at the hospital and there's no cameras at you recall...

Arriving at the hospital, you're met with a scene of controlled chaos. Doctors and nurses bustle about, their faces tense with worry. You navigate through the maze of corridors, the familiar scent of antiseptic hanging heavy in the air.

Finally, you reach Simon's bedside, and what you see makes your heart drop into the pit of your stomach. Simon manually lies propped up against the pillows, his face pale and drawn, his body racked with violent tremors as he retches into a basin. The sight is enough to make you physically ill, although it slowly dissipates, seeing the now purple marks on his necks darkening.

John appears beside you, and without a word, he takes your hand in his, his grip steady and reassuring, pressing a small kiss at the side of your head. In that fleeting moment, the world falls away, leaving only the two of you suspended in time.

"I'll be outside," he mumbles, leaving with you with Simon.

With a heavy heart, you take a seat beside him. Simon looks up at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of confusion. It takes all your strength to meet his gaze, the truth burning like acid on your tongue.

"Hey." He groans out. He can barely move, as his head painfully cranes to look at you, the effects of the drugs taking effect slowly.

"What happened." But it's more of a demand than a question.

Simon sniffs, "Traces of drugs..."

"No. I meant your neck."

He pauses, like he was trying to carefully choose his words, though he didn't have much of a escape now.

"Don't act like I see you and Price-"

"Don't bring him into this, Simon."

Don't lie to me anymore.

A tear rolls down his cheek, but you can't tell if it's crocodile tears or not.

"They-they... dismissed me."

You hum, a smirk gradually building up on your face.

"Why?"

Simon closes his eyes, "Back. My spine. Can't move it..."

You let out a slow, deep breath, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on you like a heavy stone.

"I know." Your voice is barely above a whisper, but the words hang heavy in the air between you. "I drugged you."

Simon's eyes wince once again, studying your face silently.

"Excuse me?" He begins.

You stand up, placing your purse back on your shoulder.

"What- what do you mean? You he-heard me? Love. Listen to me-"

You walk towards the door.

"WAIT. Wait. What do you mean you knew? You said you knew. What. What did you do. Sweetheart. Come back. Let's talk. You love me don't you? I love you! Where's that ring I gave you?"

You laugh, twisting the door handle.

"Baby, you better not fuckin' leav- THEY'LL FIND OUT-"

"And who's going to believe a damaged, deluded man, Simon Riley? You were out on a mission, I'll pin the blame on the enemies."

Simon shakes in his bed, unable to control any part of his body now. "WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME- HOW FUCKIN' DARE YOU- After that life I gave you-"

"Life? You call that living?"

"I LOVED YOU WHEN NO ONE ELSE DID-" His voice is painfully loud now, you're wondering how no one's running to his room already.

"Love? You don't know one thing about love, you fucker."

"I should have never fucked you, you- YOU BITCH-" He shouts, his body flailing violently, globes of tears racing down his clenched jaw and red cheeks.

"Rot in hell Simon Riley, I guess we're both fucking spineless now."

And that's a wrap for this mini seriesss - thank all of you for sticking around ;D IM AWARE IT TOOK SO LONG- I KEPT WRITING IT AND FOR SOME REASON IT DIDN'T AUTOSAVE LIKE TWICE??? SO I HAD TO REWRITE IT- Quick Notes: Let's all be real. We wanted reader to get with ol' john boy. But let's also be for real, if Reader was an object, she'd be a doormat. Although I've implied John Price x You, the bitch really needs to focus on herself and sort her shit out right now 💀 in the near future they're together for sure. ALSO the reference of drugs is highly inaccurate but let's all switch our imaginations on <3 lemme know you're interested to be tagged in my future posts! tags -> @lilliumrorum, @kxtz3, @poohkie90, @rainlovesyou12 , @restrictionsapply-blog , @lunamoonbby , @nigthmar3moon , @thychuvaluswife , @itsnourm , @bubusi11, @owkittie, @cheomain , @corvusmorte , @k4es , @mandythemint , @copiasratscheese , @yyiikes , @funkyyysho3s

[fluersan4diary]

starting food logs again!!

13/12

- 2 black coffees (0cal)

- 2 oranges (66cal)

- cucumber (16cal)

- boiled eggs (57cal)

- black coffee (0cal)

- cucumber w/ light mayo (52cal)

- green tea (0cal)

... so i just binged (sorta?)

I had measured exactly 40g oats last night and decided to have it with some milk and a banana

here are my stats :

- quick oats (148cal)

- milk (50cal)

- small banana (67cal)

total : 555

I don't mind it one bit since I'm still in my cal budget! thought I'd get real w/ you guys.

starting the cycle again bc my exams end on monday, might eat a lil more in sunday but I'm sick of eating >1000 cals

(not my pics)

[moonshynecybin]

fantasy au vale doing the love confession through the kid… can’t quite make himself say it so he’s like. waving her hand play acting through her like lol you can’t abandon ussssss you are a MOTHERRRRR

STOP YOURE RIGHT just. marc weak and pale still (a lá mayo clinic anesthesia he wakes up clenching a hand around nothing curls flat on the side of his head confused as hell covered in heavy expensive furs asking. where’s my sword ? and vale’s heart SHATTERS with relief and worry…) and vale off to the side with their daughter in his lap (hasn’t let her out of his arms ONCE since marc was dragged back to the palace gates… bezz galloping in voice hoarse from shouting for help and marc lying over the back of his horse covered in blood. vale has nightmares about it for YEARSSSSS) and marc is feeling a lil stronger is sitting up and trying to play with their daughter but he’s still obviously recovering and vale feels all of the unspoken things of the last ten years and all that effort trying to keep marc safe and how he STILL almost DIED condense in his chest and he picks up their daughters pudgy fist… waves it around… spends the next forty five minutes walking marc through an elaborate roundabout play acting bit where he is. using her as a marionette to ask marc to never leave and tell him he actually and for real loves him. clumsily attempting emotional vulnerability but he has to have five layers of self protective comedy on top AND the leverage of their literal daughter to protect him. but marc GETS ITTTTTT and he literally starts crying lol

[immeasurablesaladagere]

haii can u write about lil puppy Wilson who regresses while he's having a panic attack at work and House walks in and gently helps him calm down till he stops shaking

🐶

-----

Word Count: 953

Summery: Wilson sometimes has random panic attacks. This one in particular causes him to regress in his office.

-----

It always started with shaking.  Ever since his first divorce Wilson had panic attacks every once in a blue moon, for reasons beyond him. Sometimes they had triggers, like a pile-up of paperwork or a particularly heartbreaking case, but more often than not there wasn’t one. At least, not one he’d been able to decipher. He would just be going about his day, and then the shaking would start in his fingers. 

Like right now. He stared down at his hands where his pen was rattling around in his grip. It was as irritating as it was scary, because what reason did he have to have a panic attack? Nothing was even happening. After the shaking always came the lightheadedness, like he was sitting on a rocking boat. The doctor in his brain began to quietly rationalize it, like he had tried a dozen times before. Lightheadedness is caused by a lack of oxygen to the brain during a panic attack. To fix it, he should take deep, slow breathes.

But that was always easier said than done. Medical textbooks and Mayo Clinic articles didn’t give contingencies for when it felt like there was a balloon inflating in your chest, but he tried anyway. In… out. In… out. In, out. In, out.

Breathing exercises were the turning point. If he could just keep his breathing steady, push through it for a few minutes there was a chance the attack would stop. If he couldn’t, then he would lose his breath entirely, and he didn’t know when he’d be able to get it back.

The office clock ticked loudly away in his ears. He tried to concentrate on the sound, time his breathing to the tick-tick-ticks, but he was slowly losing the battle. He drew in a rough, short breath through his teeth and banged his fist against his desk in frustration. Why? Why couldn’t he deal with this?

Another wave of vertigo washed over him and tumbled the room like a wave. Oh, nope. Even sitting in his chair felt too unsteady, like he was going to fall over. He needed to get on the floor. He clumsily slid out of his chair and tucked himself under his desk with his back to the wooden panels. He wasn’t sure why that was where his mind went, everything was too blurry for him to care, but the solid wall behind him made it just slightly easier to breathe.

His breathing was picking up. There was no stopping it now. Something between a whine and a wheeze came out involuntarily as his chest tightened at the world rocked harder. He bit down on the cuff of his lab coat and rocked himself up and down and up and down with the tips of his toes, but it wasn’t enough. He ground the fabric between his teeth. He wanted to rip it to shreds, or break something, do anything to stop his body from shaking so hard. Stop it stop it stop it. 

Wilson knew he was teetering right on the edge of regressing. He could feel his brain clouding over on the edges, begging for him to stop fighting it, just be a little puppy and let his caregiver help him, but no one would. He was alone, and if he let himself drop, everything would feel so much worse. Don’t even think about it. Don’t regress, you’ll be fine, just—

The door to his office flung open. “Oh Wilson!” House’s sing-songed.

Two words from his caregiver was all it took for Wilson’s headspace to crumble instantly. He whined loudly between gasps, hoping he was loud enough to catch House’s attention before he left again. For a long second, the only sound in the room was his raspy breathing. Everything was too spinny, and his chest hurt, and please don’t leave, but then he heard the quick sound of footsteps and a cane coming closer to his hiding spot, and House peeked his head under the desk.

“Right, okay, give me a second…” House grunted as he slowly maneuvered himself to the ground in front of him. “What’s wrong?”

Nothing! This was so stupid! Wilson shook his head aggressively. It made his teeth hurt from biting his sleeve, but he didn’t care.

“Okay. Well, whatever it is, we’re going to calm down now, alright? I need you to drop your sleeve.”

No no no, he didn’t wanna! He made a low, guttural sound that hurt his throat. He needed it, he needed it, he needed it!

“That’s not very nice.” House said calmly. “Fine. I’m going to touch you now.” He warned, before he reached into his hidey place and started to pull him out. He thrashed for a second, then stopped when House squeezed him hard from all sides. “Breathe, boy. In, out.”

Wilson tried his hardest to listen, scraping in two almost-breaths.

“Try again.”

He did, and the second try was easier.

“Good. Good job. Again.”

So Wilson kept breathing, and House kept holding him. First, slowly, his chest stopped hurting, then the world stopped being so spinny, and then, as his fuzzy brain clung to every word of praise and House’s hand in his hair, the shaking stopped. He took one more big, deep breath, and let it out. He felt like jello. Wobbly, but in the bad, tired way. Not the fun jiggly way.

“There you go.” House said gently. “Better?”

Wilson nodded, then just for good measure, made what he hoped was a happy noise.

House chuckled. “Good. Now, you’ve been very brave boy, and if you want I can go get you any treat you want from the cafeteria, but I need you to get off my leg now.”

[menelaiad]

Hi! I know you read the Murder at Mykenai by Catherine Mayo, and I have just read it, so I would like to ask you, what is your opinion about the book? And about Menelaus’ and Agamemnon’s relationship?

Thank you for your answer in advance! :)

hello!

i loved it! i'm not such a hater that, like, any greek myth historical fiction instantly makes me rabid - it's more how the authors market them and the claims they make about their work that makes me .... not happy or keen to read them.

BUT catherine mayo never claimed to be reinventing the wheel. she was just like 'here are some dudes from greek myth and i'm gonna send them on silly little adventures' and that's exactly what she did and i loved it. it's one of those historical fictions that you can just ... enjoy. as a menelaus fan, i'm gonna do my best to read/ingest everything he's in and then form my opinions of it. and with this? i loved it! it was such a fun, easy, no stakes and no drama read. yes ofc there's a plot that has like stakes and drama but like FOR ME? i could just ... read it. and enjoy it for what it was. some famous greek heroes going on shenanigans. from an ACADEMIC perspective there's so much more i could say ... but from a human being who just loves these characters/figures? i loved it. i really enjoyed it.

i enjoyed her portrayals of aga, ody and menelaus as well! menelaus is kinda fumbly, lil awkward but tries his best to be confident and cool and suave ... but he's not whimpering and and weak and overtly pathetic for comedic effect. and i liked the ... kinda strong, serious, gruff aga ... that was revealed to have a heart of gold and such a caring nature through subtle little actions he did and scenes he was in.

it's not a groundbreaking work by any means! it's not gonna change the world and make everyone rethink menelaus and agamemnon and rocket them to the level of adoration that recent fictions have done for the likes of odysseus, say. but it's a good, fun book. and i can see myself rereading it a fair bit to just have fun!

[finniestoncrane]

I submitted one before I knew about the event🫢 Congrats, omg!!! I want to purchase tickets for front row, sci fi, with the ghoul/cooper howard + wine, mayo, and frozen yoghurt. and perhaps cupcake? or rly anything else u think would taste together😉💕 (I submitted a req about innocent!vaultie female reader blurting out that she loves him during sex bc it feels so good she just doesn’t know any better, he thinks it’s real cute😉)

thank you love!! i'm excited for this, because i thought the idea was adorable, and the prompts you picked just added to it!! 💚🩷 cw: confesing feelings, awkward sex, lil bit of roughness on coop's part 🔞minors dni🔞 send a request • masterlist • kofi link • tag: finnie2k (to follow or to block)

The words were out of your mouth without you even noticing. It was hard to focus on anything but pleasure when Cooper was fucking you. There was something almost hypnotic about the way he could work his cock inside you that meant you were in a lust filled haze, no thoughts crossing your mind except for those about Cooper himself or your impending orgasm.

And really, you weren't sure why he had stopped so suddenly anyway. It felt like the right thing to say in the moment, as he thrust himself into you, all care abandoned as he clumsily bucked you around on his lap.

"I love you."

That was always the magical words in any romance novel you had read. It seemed appropriate to offer it to Cooper now in the moment. Especially since you felt that you held a significant amount of affection for him, and you suspected he could return that favour, even if he still insisted on acting cold, pretending that your presence was a burden and not a welcome comfort.

"What did you just say?"

He had stopped so abruptly that you were stunned into silence, unsure of what kind of faux pas you had made. In your naivety, you often slipped up. Lack of experience, Cooper said, making excuses for your sheltered, literally, upbringing.

"I said... I said 'I love you'. Is that... Is that not ok?"

You could feel your cheeks burning, suddenly embarrassed, feeling put on the spot. And Cooper's patronising smile didn't help. He reached for your cheek, stroking it with his thumb, smiling slightly.

"You're lucky you're cute, you know."

"Why?"

"Because that's about the dumbest shit you've said so far. And you've said a lot of dumb shit, darlin'."

You considered it for a moment, beginning to roll your hips slightly, hoping that by reminding him that his cock was deep within your wet, warm cunt that you might mitigate some of the scrutiny, the embarrassment.

"It just feels good, Cooper. And I do care about you..."

"You only love the idea of me, sweetheart. Nothin' more."

It was confusing. Everything was on the surface. Simplicity was a luxury, that was the first lesson you'd learned out there.

"I think I could love more though."

"I would be willing to put money on the contrary, little miss."

"How can you be so certain?"

"Well, let me show you."

Cooper shifted his hips, bucking them into you. His cock was buried up to the hilt, a painful, dull ache that gave way to a shiver of pure pleasure, of brutal ecstacy. The movement shocked you, the tingling, pulsing, throbbing, divine feeling pulling a scream from your lungs.

Cooper laughed, feeling certain that he'd proved to you that it was just lust, and that his cruel disregard for your comfort in favour of getting his dick stroked deep by your cunt was proof that you couldn't love more of him.

It hadn't worked.