#I've always had an avoiding behavior but the last few years like its bad....

[elialys]

OMG im so 🥺

That i have to talk...I'm in shock !

How can someone like Torv and not follow her teachings? Love others as they are!Yes she always said quote Helen is Anna Torv "I love you just the way you are"it should always be people's motto!

And another quote she left this year EMPATY...OK you Dont like the person but you have to respect.Then its ok leave...why criticize something if we have no comparison?

You don't do anything so so wrong unforgivable to a human and everyone sometimes make mistakes!

I am sometimes surprised and outrageous by people pointing the finger só easily at small things that they perceive differently and be silent or quiet at big problems around them or even looking at themselves! I'm just saying one thing.  Of all of us.... ALL of us, YOU were the one who dedicated the most time YEARS -DECADES, had the most patience (countdown the minutes of the 2 years without premieres? ) and fought for each series, each Anna Torv's work(things like uniting fans, posting videos, talking about her, supporting her unconditionally... Fauxlivia is still your protégé, right?🤭and fighting Helen Dale dont stop )... and for me it is extremely commendable and I admire you immensely for never stopping fighting and share Anna Torv!

Your neurodivergent brain may have flaws...but What brain don't have sometimes a little's error ?

NOBODY is Perfect right? And qualities as a fan fic writer, fan, woman, friend, caring, and empathetic you have and they are huge And guess what...people who prefer to criticize SHES A REALLY TREASURE !

I could list about more than 100 things you did that were important! And if you wanna i can make a list...my nerd brain remembers all good gestures 🥰

And this is for all there fans no fans humans that read...

When they criticize you...choose the other path...which Anna Torv has also advised...

FEEL PROUD OF EVERYTHING YOU HAVE DONE!  😍❤️

Thank you so much for your kind words, Maria ❤️❤️❤️

Honestly, I am genuinely at a lost as to why some people get so mad and unforgiving over honest mistakes, especially when I mean it when I say I never meant any harm, and will listen and change my behavior if it's not appropriate. I have been in this fandom for a very long time, and I've always tried my best to be nice, and to do better when I can do better. And anyone who takes the time to actually get to know me at all, unlike those people who have honestly been very closed-off from the start, knows that I'm the opposite of an asshole, and that my life motto literally is 'let's be kind and show empathy'.

I swear twitter puts a negativity filter on everyone's brain, they expect the worst of everyone. The fact that they thought I'd sent people after them to 'harass' them, when I wasn't even aware of what was going on until my friend reached out to me to tell me about it, at which point said friend had already gotten involved, just baffles me. I'm a 36 year old adult with bad social anxiety, I live my life hoping to avoid drama or situations in which people will get angry at me in any way. The last thing I would ever think to do is have that kind of vindictive behavior, especially about something I knew I could have handled better. But you can't have conversations with the twitter crowd, you just can't. They will assume the worst of you and that's it.

I haven't been on twitter for a couple weeks now, except to post fic links for my followers who care about them, and honestly, I don't know if I'll be back, not when there are a few people who seem to enjoy scrutinizing the things I do or say.

I still want to do the Anna project because I want her to receive love from her fans, but my anxiety about this is too high at the moment, and my brain a bit too unkind.

I'm very thankful for fellow fans like you, Maria, I mean that 😘😘😘

[dzpenumbra]

4/19/23

I have had this thing lately (the past few years) where I will write paragraphs and paragraphs - reddit comments, replies or whatever the fuck they call them on here, shit like that - and... my process, when I'm not doing stream of consciousness like this, is to proofread... and then add more... and then proofread... and then add more. And it turns into a fucking like 3 hour ordeal and like 2.5 pages of commentary. And then... I usually delete it. I usually go... "someone is just going to write one fucking typo riddled autocorrected sentence and pick a fucking fight with me without even reading what I said, its not even goddamn worth it." And, unfortunately, enough goddamn times... that's been correct. Enough for compulsively deleting draft after draft and then never posting anything to become an engrained habit. Thanks a lot, Reddit. Really appreciate it.

I'm typing this because I spent the last hour and a half drafting a reply I was writing on someone else's journal on here. Tumblr limits your reply length, so... I just... kept rewriting and rephrasing, trying to optimize the space and communicate all the thoughts I had. And... I couldn't. And by the end, I was just worried that... I was just worried that me commenting on the journal would just kinda upset her or make her anxious, so I backed off. I feel bad. It's my problem, my anxiety, and I really just wanted to reassure her that like... it's not her fault. I just really wanted to be the reassuring, kind, pat-on-the-back voice for someone that I have needed so many times in identical situations to what she's going through. So, if she's reading this... you didn't do anything wrong. He needs to work with someone to manage his emotions. Therapy would be good, or a good friend. But he needs to seek that out, and he really should be communicating better with you, and it's super not fair that he's blaming your actions for him reliving his past pain. Those two things are tangentially related, not directly, and that is very often confused by a shocking number of people. If an individual chooses to avoid their triggers and not deal with the emotions, that's their own choice to make, but the second they start going around policing the innocent behaviors of others? And blaming their actions for the tangential pain it caused them? That's... that's not fuckin healthy, dogg. That's nooot gooooood.

And... I suck at confrontation and setting boundaries... so... I really don't know how to give advice for that. What I would try if I had a girlfriend who was dealing with this... would be to say: "Look, I know the location brings up bad memories. I would never pressure you to go there yourself. But our friends are insisting I go because it's like... a tradition kinda thing... so how about when I go to that, you do something special for yourself, something fun that you look forward to, special 'you-time' kinda shit. Treat yo self. Then, when I get home, we can do something fun together, or if you need to process and work through any emotions or memories that might've come up and need someone to commiserate on how much of a piece of shit those people were to you and how it still hurts, I've got your back."

That's how I would deal with it. And if they still blamed me after that and told me I was not allowed to go to that location because me going to that location was "causing them pain"... and that meant I was causing them pain? I would strongly consider leaving the relationship. At very least setting a huge bold neon boundary there and let them know that attempting to control my behaviors as a way of avoiding processing their own feelings... is... not on the table.

Sorry for the... bit of a context-less tangent there. It was a very relatable situation for me. From both sides, unfortunately. I have always been intensely emotional, and I have not always been as... skillful... as I am now. It has been years and years and years of grueling, intense work. But I can really say, the work does pay off.

Today, I woke up after 4 hours of sleep. My upstairs neighbor was listening to action movies at a decently high volume at 10AM like right the fuck above my bed. And again, I ran into the same night-shift insomniac quandary I have run into my entire adult life. When you go to bed at 5 AM, regardless of whether it's a work-related, mental health-related or biophysical-related cause for that circadian rhythm... you can reliably expect for people to NOT be compassionate towards your desire for a quiet sleeping environment before noon. I have run into this many times over the past 5 years. Blasting explosions and gunfire and muffled screaming above the bedroom of an insomniac with PTSD - who wakes up wide-eyed, heart racing, still clutching the staff they went to sleep holding for a sense of security - on a Tuesday morning at 10AM is a basic human right. HOWEVER, walking around on creaky floorboards at 4AM is you being an inconsiderate asshole. <sighs>

I have no idea if it's because these people just don't care about keeping quiet? If they're college kids or city folk or just... oblivious or don't give a shit or something? I mean, it's just really hard for me to process the mindset of someone who moans really loud while having sex at like 10PM on a weeknight in an apartment building. Like... you know people are gonna hear you, right? They just don't care, right? The whole mindset is just so... alien to me. How can you care that little about how your actions impact others?

In an odd way, I'm kinda jealous. How liberating that must feel.

My running theory is... maybe it's because they're on the top floor. They don't have an upstairs neighbor. Sound does seem to travel down more than through the walls, and I've rarely heard my downstairs neighbors more than just an occasional loud cough. Maybe they aren't aware of how much sound carries downstairs because they have no one upstairs? I don't know.

Either way... I got some cereal, curled up in the comfy chair, popped in the AirPods with the noise cancelling on and tried to nap. I woke up like 3 or 4 times. But I got some sleep. Yoga was intense today, but I was mostly able to keep up.

Here's the really good news. I got a ton of work done on the desire path project today. A fuckin butt-ton. I got the camera glitches sorted out. I got the video rendered in 3 different shots. A panning intro shot following the paths. A wide shot of the paths growing. A close-up of a diverging desire path forming. All the video came out great. I got it all put into the video editor, I added in the camera shake which really brought more life to it, really glad I figured that out. Then I programmed all the crossfades I needed. I even went and filmed some replacement cinematic shots in Minecraft without any of the HUD shit to show off the shrines. They look real slick with the shaders and everything.

The video is now mostly done... the only pieces left are... About 3 minutes of raw hiking footage, which would be pretty cool as like... a time lapse? Maybe several different trail walks spliced together to keep it interesting? Gonna have to reserve a car and get up early for that. And... this other section where I was talking about the precursor ideas to what I ended up going with... where I was discussing making rudimentary AI and having them explore a topographical map... then replacing the AI with me using a ballpoint pen. And I settled on my way of presenting this being... me illustrating what I'm talking about in the VO as though I'm drawing it on a whiteboard, and animating that. Like I'm drawing it in real-time. And then the whiteboard shit can actually come to life, which is cool.

So... those are the next steps - hike and whiteboard animation. Whiteboard animation will likely be first, because my sleep schedule has been totally fucked. But if I can pick a nice day and just reserve the car and say "no matter how little sleep I get that night, I'm driving 20 minutes over to that national park and filming", I guarantee I will have a great day and it will be worth it. Just have to overcome the anxiety of driving while not 100%, which has been plaguing me for years and years and years. When a friend loses their sister to a car crash like 50 yards from their house, and you lived like... right down the street from that? And drove down that road past that spot every day? It sticks with you, you know?

The rest of the video is just cosmetic shit, like a credits page (which would be just... literally everything made by me...) or like... a little nudge for people to go over to my barren neglected Patreon. It's worth putting in there.

So yeah, that was basically it. I had 2 avocados and 3 baked potatoes with butter, salt, pepper, green onion, sour cream and a mix of pepper jack and habanero jack cheese on em for dinner, and it was great. And I watched a bit of a Red Dead RP stream in the background. And that was the day. And now I'm fucking wiped, so... I'm off to bed! Hopefully I don't get woken up by really loud TV for the 3rd day in a row. You're welcome, downstairs neighbor, for me literally always wearing headphones with my PC and my TV.

[soyezheureux]

i just woke up and suddenly remembered one of my friends from the community service program back in college.

as i recall, twas about a year before the service program started that i first met and got acquainted with her. of course the goal was to get to know all the members better while we were finalizing all the ideas and plans during the program.

the funny thing is, the person i mentioned in this post is from the same faculty as my best friend (who's also a member of my gang and i meet regularly). you could say it's kinda "the world's narrow" (but it's narrow anyway) hahaha.

i remember asking my best friend about this person on a few occasions coz i got the impression that she was cold and seemed fierce. my friend had a similar take. he said she's easily offended, speaks firmly without caring about the feelings of others as long as she's right, and is sometimes quite cruel.

darn! i was a bit worried at first coz we were in the same division. inevitably, i had to interact with her for a longer period of time than the other members. but in the end, i decided to keep it as it was and just try not to upset her HAHAHAHAHAH. just a heads up, i'm a pacifist and try to avoid drama 😎🤘🏻

at last, the service program began. we, 20 students who are basically Javanese islanders (regardless of bloodline or tribe), have to go to one of the islands in eastern Indonesia, Maluku. we were split into two groups: the ship and the plane team. the ship team left almost a week earlier coz yeah... they got to visit more islands in Indonesia (fun fact: the ship and its route are exactly the same as the ship i used during my 2024 new year's vacation trip to Sulawesi hahaha). the girl in this story and i were on the airplane team. we left one day before the ship team's schedule to reach our final destination of Maluku.

at this point, i'm starting to see another side of this girl and it's so lovely! i mean, she's not that bad??? over time, i've also started to feel less worried. but i still don't dare to joke too much with her coz i've to keep my image to look “safe” in her eyes HAHAHAHAHA. remember, i'll still be dealing with her more than i will with the other members.

one day, i got a schedule to teach at one of the elementary schools together with her. i've to admit, i panicked a little and felt like i was in a bit of a "i'm dead!" moment (i'm sorryyyy ✌🏻). but i came to realize that i had made a mistake and gone overboard. bruh.. my teaching partner that day was super excellent!!!

i think she was a different person than the one i had met when we were with other members hahaha. even without her knowing afterwards, i always wished we had the same schedule coz i enjoyed it. we even go out together to walk around, buy food/drinks or look for daily necessities, and we'll just walk aimlessly just to talk to each other personally (honestly it's more like she's confiding in me coz at that time she was annoyed at one of our members hahahaha).

just so you know, my friend's relatively small especially when compared to me. picture a wall clock 🕐: i'm the minute hand, she's the hour hand. i realized this when we walked side by side and gave her a side hug, she was so small. i wondered, is her fierceness a self protection mechanism for her small body? hahaha ✌🏻

OH! one thing i should mention (coz i know there will be people who disagree with this kinda behavior) is that i gave her a side hug coz she looked really sad at the time. i mean, i'm not good at comforting someone with words. so, i just gave her a side hug and a light pat on the shoulder to cheer her up. after all, at that time i still had the girlfriend i loved the most even though our relationship ended a year later 😎 (dang, out of topic!). i've come to realize that i've managed to maintain my image as a "safe zone" for her hehehe

oh, a funny thing happened! this happened when the program was over and i went to her boarding house to complete our responsibility of writing a report. at the time, we were sitting next to each other and she saw that i had just sent her a file via WhatsApp. then i locked my phone and continued writing something on paper. she saw everything clearly and then said, "you know, i was annoyed with you several times coz every time i chatted with you, the information that you were 'online' suddenly disappeared. but strangely, you still replied to my chat. i thought you had just finished it on purpose. read my chat, then replied an hour later coz you still don't wanna discuss this report."

bruuhhhh??? it wasn't my attitude that annoyed her, but that silly WhatsApp feature??? HAHAHAHAHA

and yeah, that's how our friendship started. it's ended once the community service program wrapped up the semester after that. we (i mean, all the members too) focused on our respective theses and graduated from college. sadly, we haven't had any personal contact since then hahahahaha

[haretic]

Present day; 21/06/24 | Present time; 8:48pm ... but whose counting, anyways?

The solstice and connection (again)

I started this post last night, but felt really bad and went to bed. Either way.

I missed the solstice. Had a three hour nap from 5-8pm, had some dinner and tried to start this post, then went back to bed at 9pm. Slept nearly 13 hours. Weird for me, considering my usual sleeping habits. I'm not fussed though, just hoping it doesn't happen again. It'd be a lame summer if it did.

That aside, I was thinking more about the type of connection I crave with someone. I feel like I never really grew out of my "wanting to be saved" phase. I feel like I'll always be that kid, waiting for some knight in shining armor to swoop in and carry me far away, take care of me, love me unconditionally even when I can't do that same to them. I want to be around someone so much and have it feel so natural I won't even realize I've fallen for them. I know thats unhealthy, I know human connection requires two people to put in the effort. I think a lot of it is just wanting someone to love me unconditionally, and to see all the bad parts of me and still choose me again and again until i finally feel safe enough to choose them back. I'm working on it

I have great connections with people now, I have amazing friends, but I'm always worried one day they'll choose someone better over me, or that I'll say the wrong thing and become irredeemable. I always feel like I'm loved on the condition I behave exactly how people want, and I've never really been able to shut that feeling down, so I always just mimic them and mirror their own behaviors, I find out what they want, and what they need out of the relationship and give it to them at risk of my own mental and physical health just so that maybe I'll be likeable a little longer this time. Then, when they ask me out, or confess their love for me, I realize it'll never work out, and I cut them off. I know that I wouldn't be able to keep up that behavior, I wouldn't be able to keep being who they wanted me to be the entire time, so I make sure to not give myself the opportunity.

Now, this could all be avoided if I just was who I am from the beginning, so they'd never form these false relationships with a fake person, but I find that so hard to do. I don't know how to unmask that well, and sometimes it seems to take more effort than actually masking does, so I just don't. I do have friends I can unmask completely around, but its always been after masking for months or years. Its like a cycle. I'll mask around them for ages at a time, they'll form feelings that aren't truly reciprocated because I'm not truly who I say I am, we'll take a break for some months, and then we'll reconnect and I'll be able to unmask around them. But those friends are few and far between, and while I value them so much, I wish I didn't have to go through that process every time I meet someone new. They aren't always guaranteed to want me back after everything I put them through. I want someone who'll let me mask or unmask and love me unconditionally regardless. And who won't care if I need space for a few months, or if I'm uncomfortable expressing emotions. I want someone who'll protect me from everything thats ever hurt me, past and present. But that person just doesn't really seem to exist these days, and every time I think I've found that person, they always just seem to take advantage of me, and part of that feels like my fault.

I think I'm truly doomed when it comes to connection with others. I try to connect, I share my day, my history, my likes and dislikes, and hope for the same from others, but in the end all I get back is dry interactions or ghosted. I try to not connect, not be too clingy and be more clinical about my actions, don't let myself try to connect right away so I don't freak the other person out, but that seems to make me seem like some robotic monster. There just seems to be no winning. All the connections I have currently feel so precariously balanced, I feel like I can't truly truly be myself around them, or they'll get weirded out by how much I am. I don't know what it is about me, I just always seem to be too much much for everyone except a few select people, and even then I'm sure if I showed them how much I can actually be they'd leave all the same.

I don't even think I'm particularly weird. I don't have any wildly weird interests or hobbies or takes. I think I exist on the same baseline as everyone else. But there just seems to be something about me that people either find massively dislikeable or easy to take advantage of, so either way I end up getting hurt.

I feel like I've come to care less about that these days though. I don't really care when I get hurt anymore, I anticipate it from most things, so I only really care momentarily when it happens, even though I know it does more damage in the long run. I also seem to care a lot less when I'm alone these days. As a kid, it really hurt me how alone I was. I would cry and cry and cry about it. About how much other people seemed to want to hurt me or blamed every bad thing in their life on me. I feel like that's universal when growing up autistic, though, so I've learned to ignore that even though it still happens. I can go a long time without seeing people now, even my own family. Consciously, I don't mind just holing up in my room for days or weeks on end, I don't mind the solitude and the lack of communication, I find things to occupy my time. Subconsciously, though, I think theres an issue. I can tell myself I'm fine on my own and distract myself until my brain is fried, but the minute I get a moment to actually think or let my brain rest, I'm hit with how hard I want this genuine connection with someone.

I want someone who knows my past and experiences my present and wants to be a part of my future.

But I know none of thats guaranteed for me, especially not with the way I've grown up. My therapist and I discussed BPD a few times, if I remember right. It explains a lot of my outbursts and my emotions around abandonment and a lot of the trauma reactions I seem to have. I don't know though, I tell others I have it because it makes the most sense given my behaviour. I worry most about not being able to put a label on it though. Like, what if theres just something really fucked up about me but theres no diagnosis that can explain it, I'm a totally normal person whose just a piece of shit?

Whatever though, I could cry or cut myself about it but I honestly cannot be assed enough to do that right now. I have better things to do with my time. I've got another prom tomorrow with someone I consider a real, true friend and I look forward to that more than anything. It'll be great, I'm sure of it. And it'll mean to distract me from whatever I've got going on in my head, even if its for a little bit.

[mrfoox]

How to stop avoiding things that stress me out until it becomes a problem...

[titan-fodder]

Prima Vista Part VII

[ previous ]

Rating: E (explicit; mdni)

Warnings: dramatics, gaslighting, pining pining pining, drinking, attempted drugging, blacking out, vomiting, Nile and Hitch hook up, did I mention pining, one Greek word (thank you again, @cynnyc .)

It’s nearly ten PM as you climb the steps to the PKA house. The brisk October air makes you pull your jacket tighter around yourself and move toward the door faster. You probably should’ve texted your target first, checked to see if he’s even here, but you’re not about to stand outside and wait for a reply, not when you can just knock and ask a living soul.

 It’s Reiner who answers, looking extremely tired with dark circles under his eyes. You idly wonder if he and the other new kids are being kept awake as another stupid fucking hazing ritual, but you don’t really have the time for small talk. 

 “Erwin here?”

 The blond nods and steps out of the way. “His room. Might already be asleep.”

 Shrugging, you walk inside, mumbling, “Just gonna have to wake his ass up then.”

 Which you do, climbing up to the third story after Reiner tells you which room he’s in now. You knock on the door a couple times and almost feel bad when Erwin answers, clearly rumpled in pajama pants and bedhead. 

 He squints at you, and you snort. “Sleep before ten? You some kinda nerd or somethin’?”

 “What do you want?” He gruffs, voice a little scratchy. 

 You can see part of the room behind him, looks pretty similar to the one from last year. That had been the only time you’d really gotten a close look into his space, and it had not ended well. You hope this time will be different. 

 “I needed to talk to you about something.”

 Erwin scrubs a hand down his face then rests his head against his doorframe. “I’ll take a wild guess and say this is about Mike.”

 You push your lips out in a pout and respond, “Maybe.”

 He lets you into his room, catches you off guard when he asks, “Door open or closed?” 

 “Depends. You gonna come onto me again?”

 He chuckles and shakes his head. “I learned my lesson last time.”

 “You can shut it then.”

 Taking up the chair at his desk, you watch as Erwin just crawls back under his covers and fixes cerulean eyes on you. 

 “Why haven’t you been talking to him?”

 Something in your stomach flips, eyes growing as you splutter, “I haven’t been talking to him? He hasn’t been talking to me!” 

 Erwin frowns. “What? He’s been bitching to me incessantly.”

 “And, I’ve been bitching to Hitch incessantly.”

 Groaning into his pillow, Erwin holds out his hand, and you hear a muffled command, “Give me your phone.”

 You do without hesitation, rattle off the passcode then sit and wait as Erwin scrolls through what you assume to be your settings or contacts. The thought that you should be a little scared crosses your mind—you do have some compromising photos in an unlocked folder—but judging by Erwin’s current mood, he doesn’t seem interested in anything except sleeping. 

 “That motherfucker,” he grunts.

 “What?”

 “You blocked his number.”

 “What?” This time is much louder and panicked. “No, I didn’t! I swear I didn’t.”

 He tosses you the device back and gestures in a ‘see for yourself’ manner. “Someone did.”

 Your blood begins to boil as you stare down at your short list of blocked contacts, Mike’s name right on top.

 “Are you fucking kidding me?” You quickly tap to remedy the problem, hands beginning to shake. “I don’t even know how—”

 “My money’s on the shitty boyfriend,” Erwin mumbles.

 You want to text Mike, but you have no idea what to say. Sorry we haven’t talked in over a month. Zeke figured out my phone password and blocked your number haha. You doubt that would fly.

 If you had just come to Erwin sooner, most of this could have been avoided. You don’t know if you’re more upset at Zeke or at yourself.

 Zeke. Definitely Zeke. That is some wildly possessive behavior. That’s isolation. The idea makes you nauseous. This is just another instance of him showing what you believe to be his true self. Between all the fighting and grudges, you’re at your wit’s end. Just the other day, the two of you had gotten into yet another argument when you happened to get a glance at the Tinder icon in his app list. 

 “Why do you still have that?” You’d asked with a frown. You really hadn’t planned on it turning into an ordeal. 

 “Have what?”

 “Tinder.”

 “What are you talking about?”

 Then, right in front of your eyes, he had deleted the app. You saw it, but that didn’t stop Zeke from looking at you with a straight face and telling you, “I think you’re just confused, babe.”

 That’s when it turned into an ordeal. That’s when you got defensive and incredulous. That’s when he just kept telling you that you were wrong, that you were just seeing things, and after a good thirty minutes once you were nice and high strung, he actually had you halfway convinced. 

 Because he always sounds so sure of himself, always makes it so that his word is law. You had doubted yourself—you’re still doubting yourself. 

 “Jesus, I can’t believe this,” you breathe, leaning back in the rolling chair and staring up at the ceiling. You can believe it, actually, you just hadn’t expected him to sink that low. “What do I even say to Mike?”

 Erwin finally pushes himself into a sitting position and stretches. Seems like he’s just resigning himself to being awake. “Whatever it is, you should probably talk it out in person.”

 “Probably.”

 “Might be a little difficult now, though.”

 Heaving a sigh, you mutter, “Yeah, I assume he's pretty pissed at me.”

 Erwin hums, but his voice comes out a little unsure when he says, “Well, that, but also…”

 You're suddenly sitting straight up. “Also what?”

 Making a face, the man across from you enlightens you to the fact that, “Mike is kind of seeing someone. I think.”

 You blink at him, trying to process what he’s telling you. Mike is… With someone? You feel sick.

 But, you shouldn’t because he’s allowed to branch out. You surely did, and you hurt him in the process. 

 “It, uh… It gets worse.”

 Swallowing, you try to hide the lump in your throat when you rasp, “How?”

 Don’t cry. Do not cry. You have no right to cry. 

 “I’m about ninety-nine percent positive it’s Zeke’s ex.”

 Every muscle in your face suddenly relaxes, but it isn’t in a good way. Instead of frowning, your brow softens into its normal position. You release the tension in your jaw, the teeth that were just clenched falling away from each other as your lips part. Erwin moves in and out of focus as your gaze becomes blurry, hot tears gathering at your waterline, and now you don’t even try to stop them from falling. 

 Fucking Rhi. She had been nothing more than an annoyance before, a peppy little annoyance trying to grab your boyfriend’s attention. But, now… Now, you’re ready to fight. Parking lot brawl, throwing fists and pulling hair, and screeching—you want to destroy her. 

 “Oh.” You sniffle then wipe your nose with the back of your hand. “That’s good. I mean—” a quiet cough, “—that’s good for him. I’m glad.”

 Erwin snorts. “No, you’re not,” his volume rises a bit. “So, don’t pretend like you are. God, why are you guys so bad at this?”

 You let out a humorless laugh and shrug. “‘Cause I have shitty timing, I guess.” You bite your lip and look back to the ceiling, trying not to weep too openly, but your lungs are burning, preventing you from breathing, and your heart is bruising your ribcage, and you think your bones just might shatter inside of your chest. 

 There’s a rustling on the bed, and when you look back at Erwin, you find him laying down again but holding the blankets up in front of him. 

 “Come on.”

 “W-what? Erwin, that is literally the last thing we—”

 “I’m not trying to fuck,” he says, eyes heavy as he stares at you. “You need to relax, and I need to sleep, so just come on."

 You consider for a while, looking from Erwin to the mattress. You’re really not that close, would barely even call him your friend, but you did come to him tonight. You had chosen to confide in him. He makes some pretty questionable decisions sometimes, but you still believe that ultimately he’s a good person. 

 “Fine, but put a shirt on.”

 “Then, grab one. Second drawer. Make sure it’s soft.”

 You roll your eyes but do as you're told, running your hands over a few t-shirts until you find one that he should be pleased enough with. He tugs it on then collapses back on the bed, and you kick your shoes off then slip out of your jacket and under the covers.

 You’re facing him, trying to keep a few inches between yourself and his chest, but as you think about the position you’re in—why you’re in it, the tears start flowing freely again, and you’re holding back little whimpers, shoulders shaking at the effort. Erwin breathes in deeply then uses the arm he isn’t laying on to pull you to him, shushing you as he rubs the space between your shoulder blades with a warm hand. 

 “We’ll get it sorted out,” he promises, voice quiet as he starts to doze. 

 It’s not how you expected to end the night, but you suppose there are worse ways.

*

 Mike learns a lot of information in a very short amount of time. Nile meets him outside of the fitness center to give him the scoop, trying to look casual as he walks, but Mike can tell he's nervous. 

 He starts by asking if Mike has talked to you at all recently, and no, he has not. So, Nile tells him that you broke things off with Zeke and apparently it got messy. 

 "Something about him being a manipulative bastard," Nile waves a hand. 

 "Doesn’t surprise me. Took her long enough."

 You've been hanging around the Pike house again, sometimes by yourself and sometimes with Hitch—"Who's really fucking cute, by the way." Obviously Nile and Marie are in the 'off' portion of their relationship cycle. "And, you would know all this if you would just start coming around again. It's stupid to pay dues and not actually engage with the frat, dude."

 "I've just been busy with school," Mike tells him. It's only a half lie. His senior courses are kind of kicking his ass, but he's also been busying himself with Rhi who is… tolerable. 

 "Whatever. Halloween party is in, like, a week. If you don't show up, I'm gonna be real pissed."

 "I'll be there, Nile."

 "Okay, then lemme prepare you for one more thing."

 Mike stops walking and looks at the smaller man who inhales deeply then blows air out through his teeth. 

 "So, uh, she's hanging around again, right? And, you're not there, so it seems like she's sort of, uh, latched onto…" He makes a face, and Mike leans back. 

 "Don't fucking tell me."

 Nile cringes. "Yeah. I don't think they're fucking or anything. I haven't heard them in his room like I used to hear the two of you."

 "She goes into his room?" Mike has to flex his hand by his side, but the brick wall of the library they've stopped in front of is looking mighty nice. Break a few bones, bleed a little, it'll feel good. 

 "Yeah, but, like, they're nowhere near as close as you and her."

 "How close we used to be. It's been so fucking long since we've even talked, dude. And, any time I try to catch her on campus, the dickbag is with her—"

 "Well, at least you don't have to worry about that anymore."

 "Yeah, now I just have to worry about her fucking my best friend. Fuck, she just—" Mike growls in his throat, contemplates turning to go back to the gym because he needs to get this energy out somehow. "She drives me fucking crazy."

 "Yeah, I know, man. I just didn't want you to be surprised at the party when you see 'em all buddy-buddy."

 "I'm gonna punch him," Mike states. "Just lay him out in front of everyone."

 "Please don't," Nile sounds genuinely worried. "Maybe use the party as a way to, I don't know, talk to your girl? Like an adult?" 

 "Obviously not my girl, and I've been screwing around with Rhi anyway. Maybe it's just time we went our separate ways or whatever." 

 It physically hurts to even suggest, but he's trying to put on a brave face for his friend—act annoyed rather than fucking crushed, but god, he is aching. His stomach has opened up into nothing, his chest feels void of everything that was once inside, and he knows he's being dramatic, but fuck fuck fuck, first Zeke and now Erwin? What is it that Mike doesn't have? What can't he provide you with that they can? Just tell him, and he'll fucking fix it. 

 "Yeah, I think we both know that's not gonna happen. Plus, you do realize Rhi is probably just using you to make Zeke jealous."

 "I'm not fucking stupid, Nile, of course I know that." But, Mike is really tired of his love life revolving around that asshole, like he has to wait for Zeke to call all the shots. "I'm using her as much as she's using me, so—"

 "As a distraction?" 

 Mike lets his head loll to the side, peering down at Nile from the corner of his eyes. "What do you think?" 

 The other man gives him a light punch to the shoulder and once again suggests, "Talk things out. Just pull her aside at the party." 

 It's easier said than done. When Halloween rolls around, it's a little insane. It's too big and too loud with a flashing strobe that hurts Mike’s eyes. There are all sorts of costumes, making it hard to recognize anyone. The jungle juice is a mystery, one Mike doesn't plan on touching but that many people will. He has a feeling that more than a few party-goers are gonna end up sick, probably passing out in various locations of the house. 

 Mike has opted for an easy costume, the tacky tourist complete with his pink Hawaiian shirt, a straw hat, sunglasses, and a fanny pack. It's so awful, it actually made him laugh, but Rhi, clad in a spandex tiger suit, is not nearly as amused. She probably wanted him to go the sexy cop route or something equally as cringey, but Mike just doesn't have it in him tonight. 

 Nile is a shirtless cowboy, Hitch is a Catholic schoolgirl, Gelgar is Freddy Krueger with a pompadour, Reiner is a werewolf, the list goes on and on. Sexy, bloody nurses, superheroes, Harry Potter, and so on. 

 When his eyes land on you for the first time that night, Mike comes close to drooling his drink. Lola Bunny in her skimpy basketball uniform and a rabbit ear headband. Your face is painted, and you're carrying around one of those foam balls kids use to dunk into Fisher Price hoops, and he has no doubt the prop will be lost by the end of the party. 

 Mike thinks back to Spring Break, to you wincing at his movie choice then trying to sleep through it. You had woken up to him flipping through the photo album, then chose to finally open up to him. 

 So, why this costume? Why "torture" yourself like this? 

 And, speaking of torture, you're sticking to Erwin just like Nile said you would. The blond is in a tailored suit, his face painted like a skull. It's both classy and creepy, and Mike hates him for it. In fact, it calls for another drink. 

 Rhi finds him in the kitchen after making her rounds, taking up her former place on Mike's arm as he uses the counter to pop the lid off a fresh bottle. They watch the game of beer pong playing out in front of them, but Rhi doesn't seem content to just sit. 

 She has to stand on her tip-toes and shout into his ear, "Wanna walk around some?" 

 No. He really doesn't, but he can placate her, especially if it means getting laid later tonight. 

 They trek back to the main room, observing the debauchery taking place. People are grinding and stripping to Monster Mash. Several couples are spread out in the chairs or up against the wall getting pretty close to full on exhibitionism. 

 They stop to talk to "Officer" Marie for a while then move on to Nile and Hitch to whom Rhi spills everything she just heard from the busty redhead. They joke with Gelgar and his catch of the day, some of the pledges—Jean, Reiner, and Eren—who are just trying to survive, and then at last… you and Erwin. 

 Mike sees the way your chest rises with a deep breath, how your fingers tighten around the little basketball. Your eyes flit from Rhi to Mike, flashing when Rhi greets you. 

 Oh, you don't like her. 

 "Love the costume," she tells you. "Who are you supposed to be again?" 

 Mike chokes on his drink, and you suck your teeth before replying, "Lola Bunny. The Loony Toon."

 "Oh, is that, like, Bugs Bunny's girlfriend?"

 "Kind of?" You try. 

 Rhi looks to Erwin who visibly cringes when she asks, "Why aren't you dressed as Bugs then?" 

 Mike wants to turn around, to put as much distance between all of you as possible. 

 Erwin clears his throat. "Because that would be a couple's costume, and we're not…"

 Mike knows his expression is skeptical, cold even, and when he settles it on you, you give him a little shake of your head that he doesn't really believe. 

 "Oh, alright," Rhi concedes only to chime, "'Cause I heard—"

 "Wrong," Erwin cuts her off. "You heard wrong, Rhi." A hard, blue stare lands on Mike, unforgiving when he tells him, "I think it's time you two talked."

 "I don't think that's really—"

 "Oh, fuck," your swear gets everyone's attention, and Mike takes in the shock written all over your face then follows your line of sight to the entry way where Zeke god damn Jaeger is making his way through the crowd. 

 "What the hell is he doing here?" Erwin spits. 

 "You and Nile decided this should be an open party, dumbass," Mike reminds him with a roll of his eyes. 

 "Oh, so we're name-calling now? Jesus Mike, grow up. You're just assuming shit!" As he rants, Erwin takes hold of one of your arms and pulls you behind him, snatching the furry headband from you so the ears don't stick out. 

 For a split second, Mike thinks he's trying to protect you from him, but then he nods to bring Mike's attention to the approaching figure behind him, and Mike understands. 

 He turns his body to face Zeke who's walking over, fragmented by the strobe, his icy eyes piercing straight through his glasses. Mike, despite his anger toward you, feels the primal urge to protect you. 

 "The fuck do you want, Jaeger?" 

 "Woah, calm down, bud. Just looking for a brat—about yea high, spreads her legs for any athlete she comes in contact with. You guys seen her?" 

 Mike steps toward him, but he's stopped by a hand that fists in the back of his shirt. 

 "Ah, there she is," Zeke smirks, and Mike looks over his shoulder to see you now in front of Erwin with your fingers clutching the pink material across his back. 

 "He's not worth it, Mike."

 Mike thinks he is, though. He feels like he keeps getting whiplash, going back and forth between who he wants to hit at any given moment because it seems to change by the second.

 He's just been so incredibly frustrated for the past few months. Lacrosse doesn't help, and  the gym doesn't help, and fucking Rhi doesn't help. Mike has just been stewing, letting everything fester during the radio silence between the two of you. He's mad at so many people including himself, and all he wants to do is shove his way out of this stupid fucking party and take off his stupid fucking fanny pack and be alone in his apartment under his dumb fairy lights. 

 He shrugs out of your grip, figures the best thing he can do right now is get away from all of you. Zeke stumbles when Mike shoulders into him forcefully. He's not even a little surprised when Rhi doesn't follow him, choosing to vie for Zeke's attention instead. 

 It doesn't matter. All that matters is that Mike gets another drink in him. 

 He tries not to watch the way the heated conversation turns out, the way you bow up to Zeke and Erwin has to once again put himself in between you and the other blond. He tries not to smile at the fire in your eyes, that blaze he's seen so many times (usually when you're annoyed at him), and yes, there's that pain again, barely overshadowing Mike's anger. 

 You yell something at Zeke. He yells back. Erwin feels the need to add his own opinion, but the music is too loud for Mike to be able to make any of it out. Whatever is shouted makes Zeke huff and walk away. Rhi prances after him, and Mike resigns himself to the fact that he probably will not be fucking her after this shit show. He could always find someone else, but that takes effort (not much, but still), and then they usually get clingy afterward, and he just can't be bothered with all that right now. Mike can't be bothered with anything right now. 

 So he drinks. 

 He keeps an eye on Zeke who doesn't actually leave the party, and he drinks. He stares at you from across the room, bunny ears back in place, and he drinks. Somewhere between Boom and Beer Pong, he loses the fanny pack, looks down at some point and finds that it's just no longer there. All he had in there was a lighter and a couple condoms, so he isn't too broken up about it, but he does wonder—

 Mike isn't sure what makes him look over at the counter where all the different drinks are set out, but he does, and it's just in time to see Eren hunching over the bowl of jungle juice like some shady motherfucker, and when Mike makes his way over, world spinning just a little bit, he sees the younger Jaeger brother emptying a little plastic bag of green pills into the punch. 

 "What the fu—" Mike has him by the collar before he can even finish his own question, tosses the kid away from the counter so that he actually falls to the floor. It causes a few people to hop out of the way, their drinks sloshing and spilling on the tile. "What the fuck are you doing?" 

 Eren looks up at Mike with wide, panicked eyes, like he's scared and waiting for someone to save him. 

 "I—I don't know what you think you saw, man—"

 "I know exactly what I saw, you little creep!" 

 Everyone in the kitchen is looking at the two of them as more people trickle in. 

 "What even was that? You trying to roofie the whole fucking party or something?" 

 "No!" 

 "Just one person, then? That one special girl," Mike hisses.

 He walks back to the counter and grabs the large bowl of juice, carrying it over to Eren who's still on the ground. The kid covers his face just in time for Mike to empty the contents over his head, drenching him so that red drips from his hair and trickles down his arms. 

 "Drink up, bitch," Mike snarls before throwing the bowl so that it bounces off Eren's head. 

 Naturally, a bigger crowd has gathered, and Nile shoves his way through, shouting over the music, "What is happening?" 

 Mike leans over to yell in his ear, "Saw him pouring pills into the punch."

 "Are you serious?" 

 Mike nods but steps away when Eren pushes himself off the wet floor and nearly throws himself at Nile. 

 "I didn't do it! I don't know what the fuck he's talking about!" 

 Nile arm-bars Mike when he tries to move toward the little twerp, lips pulling back from his teeth because it has been a shitty night. A shitty week. Shitty month. And, now his fury has shifted yet again. 

 "Did anyone else see it, Mike?" Nile asks. 

 "Probably not since everyone is fucked up—"

 "Including you."

 Mike looks over at his friend in genuine surprise because it's starting to sound like Nile doesn't believe him. 

 "Why the fuck would I lie about something like this?" 

 "Maybe because he's Zeke's brother," Nile suggests. 

 Mike is heated. He can feel the blood underneath his skin cooking his god damn insides, frying his brain so that all he can think about is throwing a punch or two (or twenty). 

 Jaw sliding, Mike shuts his eyes, takes a deep breath to steady himself, to stop his hands from shaking as he tries to figure out when his friends started looking at him as some unhinged freak. 

 "What are you doing—the fu—dude, stop!"

 Opening his eyes again, Mike sees that Gelgar has inserted himself into the situation and has Eren pinned against the counter as he shoves his hands in every one of his pockets. He's growling something at the younger man, keeps shoving his face down against the linoleum any time Eren squirms, and after about a minute of people watching and gasping and making crude remarks about the position the two are in, Gelgar straightens up with a plastic bag identical to the one Mike saw Eren emptying into the jungle juice. 

 "It's just Adderall, I swear!"

 Gelgar scoffs. "This is definitely not Adderall. Believe me, I'd know." He tosses the pills to Nile who takes a long look at them before glaring at Eren. 

 "Get the fuck out before I call the cops."

 He should call them anyway, Mike thinks, but he understands Nile's hesitance. There's a lot going on at the party—underage drinking, party drugs in various rooms, etc. Eren wouldn't be the only one taken into custody if the police showed up. 

 Another voice rings out, asking the same question everyone else has, "What the hell is going on?" and Mike comes close to hurling the closest bottle at Zeke as he makes his way to his brother. "Why are you…" He gestures nebulously as his eyebrows pull together. Rhi is close behind him, and further still, you and Erwin are peeking into the kitchen. 

 "They think I drugged the jungle juice!" Eren looks at Zeke with puppy eyes that probably worked when he was a kid, might still work judging by the way the blond whirls around to face Mike and Nile. 

 "Have any proof, or are you just trying to—"

 "Pipe down, Jaeger," Nile cuts him off, holding up the bag and explaining, "Mike saw him dropping these in the punch."

 Zeke is silent for a few solid seconds before rounding on his brother again and grabbing him by the shirt right where Mike had previously held him, and everyone watches in rapt attention as he steers Eren through the crowd, shouting at him the entire time. 

 Having both of them leave is a relief, but Mike is a little disappointed that he didn't get to fight either of them. It would have been nice to feel a nose break under his fist, but he supposed it's better this way. 

 "Hey, thanks for catching that, dude," Nile says, slapping Mike's back. 

 It doesn't make him feel good. If anything, it pisses him off. Mike would understand if his friend had been skeptical of one of the pledges or second years making the accusation he had, but Nile is one of his best friends. They were inducted at the same time, were hazed side by side. Mike never would have thought Nile had such a low opinion of him, that he’d believe Mike’s little broken heart would cloud his judgement to the point of slandering someone without cause. 

 "Whatever," he shrugs before grabbing another drink. 

 He should just go back home. He isn't having a good time. He's angry at just about everyone he looks at. When Rhi decides he's worth her time again, Mike actually tells her to fuck off. He's lost the accessories to his costume, and he's about to lose his mind. 

 It's getting late. Mike isn't sure how late because as the night progresses, he gets steadily inebriated. He tries to avoid anyone and everyone in his fraternity, hanging out with people he knows from lacrosse or his classes instead. They play a few drinking games, take body shots off some sorority girls (or maybe it's the same one, he can't tell anymore). The music becomes bearable, and the strobe light stops hurting his head, and eventually, Mike just… forgets. 

 He forgets about Nile's lack of faith. He forgets about the fuckhead Jaeger brothers. He forgets about you and Erwin walking around and laughing together oh, ha ha we're so close now. He is finally spared from all of his negative thoughts. 

 Mostly because somewhere between shot number seven and beer number who knows what, Mike pukes into a plant (maybe?) and blacks out.

 *

 "God dammit. Erwin," you tug on his jacket sleeve and point to the corner that is home to a fake ficus that Mike is currently throwing up in. 

 Erwin groans, "Oh, Jesus Christ," and starts making his way over with you hot on his heels. 

 A few people are making faces as they glance at Mike, moving away as he coughs, straightens, then bends over again. 

 "Mike, come on, buddy," Erwin pats his back, waiting for Mike to pause in his retching so that he can duck under his arm and support him. "Gotta get you to a bathroom."

 "No bath," Mike snorts. "No green there, no…"

 You take a place on his other side, not that you can help much in getting him down the hall and in one of the downstairs restrooms, but you at least support his other arm and steer him in the right direction. 

 "Why is he talking about green?" Erwin grumbles as you both lower Mike to the tiled floor in front of the toilet where he promptly pukes again. 

 "The leaves maybe? I don't know, dude. Just…" You cringe as you notice the way Mike's shaggy hair hangs down into the toilet bowl, subject to all kinds of splash back. "Do you have a hair tie on you?" 

 "Literally why in the fuck would I have a hair tie on me?" Erwin asks incredulously, and you laugh because a couple weeks ago, he never would have used that word in this context since it's wrong, but the more you spend time with him, the more he picks up on your vernacular, and that really doesn't matter right now because—

 "Water," Mike croaks, voice echoing off the ceramic. 

 "I don't think you'll be able to drink any right this second, man," Erwin tells him, squatting beside him. 

 Mike shakes his head. "Wanna feel—feel water. Cold."

 "He sounds like a fucking caveman," you snicker. 

 You're really just trying to stay calm, masking the sick feeling in your stomach with amusement, but you've been watching Mike all night as he downed beer after beer, mixing various liquors as he took shots and licked salt off some chick's stomach. You figured he would get sick, but there wasn't really much you could do about it. He had made it pretty clear he isn’t interested in speaking to you. Still, you had purposely remained mostly sober just in case something like this happened (also because you make bad decisions when you get fucked up at frat parties).

 "Yeah, he definitely won't remember any of this."

 "Waterrr," Mike tries again, and you look at the way his arm is dangling over the side of the tub, the faucet on the opposite side, and glance at Erwin at a loss. 

 He shrugs, eyes darting around until he sees the plastic cup upside down on the shower rack. He grabs it, turns the water on and fills the cup, then dumps it over Mike's hand. 

 Mike groans, slowly wriggles his fingers under the stream, and drawls, "Thaaaank."

 You shake your head and motion for the cup, talk loud enough to be heard over the faucet, "I can handle this. You go back outside."

 "What? No."

 "There's no reason both of us have to be in here. He's just gonna puke his guts out for a few hours and then pass out." 

 Erwin doesn't seem sold on the idea. 

 "Come on. You've gotta go back. You're vice president or whatever."

 "So?" 

 "Erwin."

 He stares at you for a while then deflates. "Fine. Do you have your phone on you?" 

 "Always." You gesture to the elastic waistband of your shorts, phone pressed to your hip as it hangs on the inside of the material.

 "Text me if you need help, alright?" 

 "You got it, boss."

 He leaves just in time for Mike to violently retch into the toilet, one hand clutching the bowl as his spine curves. You fill the cup back up, pour it over his hand once again, and repeat the action over… and over… and over.

 His face and hair are gonna be a mess, probably his shirt too which is actually a blessing because you'll finally have a legitimate reason to burn it. Pepto Bismol pink and sketched palm trees stare at you as you sit on the edge of the tub, and all you can think of is the first time you saw Mike wearing the terrible shirt, how that had ended up, how you left with it the following morning. 

 How had the two of you gone from that to this? Sure, you weren't super fond of him at the beginning of it all, but he grew on you. A lot. He's your best fucking friend. Through the last couple months, through this weird fight you're having, he is your best friend. It's why you're here right now taking care of his drunk ass. 

 It'll pass. This phase will pass, and you'll make up, and you'll get your chance to be honest with him, to tell him how you feel about him. It may have taken you a little too long to arrive at your destination, so to speak, but better late than never. Soon, you'll both be able to look back on this and laugh. 

 People knock on the door here and there, and you scream at them to go away, eventually getting tired of it and just clicking the lock into place. 

 Any time you stop pouring water over his hand, Mike whines and attempts to say something, choppy words that don't make a ton of sense. You wonder if you need to call an ambulance, look for the signs of alcohol poisoning, but he doesn't feel cold, his breathing is even between bouts of vomiting, and his arms aren't curling in that tell-tale way. 

 More than likely, he just made himself sick. He knows better, too. He's been partying for a long enough time to be well aware of the mixing rules. Beer before liquor and all that shit. He may have just not cared tonight, though. From what Erwin has told you, Mike has just been in a generally bad mood for a while now (and Erwin has not tried to be subtle about why). He's barely around the Pike house anymore, he keeps getting called for personal fouls in lacrosse, and he's sleeping with Rhi which is nobody's business but is also strange considering her history—some kind of mutualistic symbiotic relationship that nobody is a real fan of. 

 Not my circus, not my monkeys, you think to yourself, emptying another cup from your place on the floor now. The ceramic was starting to hurt your ass, and you know your arm will probably be a little sore tomorrow, or later today since it's nearing three. 

 Fatigue is beginning to set in, and you know Mike is exhausted because he keeps dozing off on the toilet seat so that you have to nudge him back awake. Until he can speak in mostly coherent sentences, he's not allowed to sleep. 

 Sitting in the bathroom gives you ample amount of time to think. You go over some mental flashcards for a while, notes you took with the help of Mike's magic textbook. Then you think about going to your mom's for Thanksgiving and how much you aren't looking forward to it. Then you think about Zeke showing up only to have to escort his shady brother from the house. God, you had not been happy to see him. You'd been a little afraid, if you're being honest. 

 After figuring out that he had, in fact, blocked Mike's number on your phone, you had stomped into his apartment and initiated a screaming match. You got loud, he got louder, called you a stupid bitch and punched a hole in the drywall. You had decided that was a pretty good time to leave, both the apartment and the relationship. He's been lurking on campus around your most frequented spots—the science building, the library, but you've been doing a good job of camouflaging yourself in groups of other students. Even if he can see you, he can't do much about it. 

 You've thought about reporting him to campus police, but you know nothing will come of it. The golden boy can do no wrong. It's why you've been spending so much time at the PKA house again. You know most of them have your back, and you are absolutely not above asking any of them to walk somewhere with you to fend off your angry ex. 

 You can't wrap your head around what his fucking deal is. Surely he didn't treat Rhi like this after they split. There's no way she would still be so infatuated with him if he had. Is it just because you're the one who dumped him? He had to have seen it coming once you started putting the pieces together, the way he constantly tried to make you feel guilty, isolating you from your friends, invading the privacy of your phone to not only block Mike but also to turn your fucking location on so he could track you (you had found that out after that first trip back to the frat house to talk with Erwin. It had not been pretty).

 It's hard to believe you put up with it for as long as you did. It was only five months, but that's still five months too long. 

 Mike is quiet for several minutes, and you sigh when you see that his eyes are closed once again. He makes a noise of displeasure when you use your foot to gently shake him, grumbling, "Sto-o-op."

 "Nope. Gotta stay awake, Miche. Can't have you fallin' into a coma or something'."

 "Nooo. No Miche."

 "Yes, Miche," you laugh. 

 He scrunches his face up, shakes his head, but the motion seems to make him sick again. 

 When he finishes gagging into the toilet, he lets out a deep, "Gu-uuh," then sniffs. "No Miche. Jus' she—she—...Jus' her."

 You can figure out the rest, but you can't decide if you want to smile or cry. Only you can call him that. Well, you and his mom. You miss her. And his dad. And Scout. You hope to see them again. 

 "Okay. Just Mike then."

 He hums in confirmation then shakes his hand in the tub so that you'll douse it once again. 

 "You're a needy drunk, you know that?" 

 Mike doesn't respond to that, just takes a few deep breaths as his eyes close yet again. 

 "Sleep now," he mumbles. 

 "No, no sleep now."

 "Sleep now."

 "Oh my fucking god."

 His mouth drops open a little, and the first thing you think to do is splash him in the face with the cup of water. 

 He spits and splutters but doesn't shift much, still wrapped around the toilet. You try not to look inside when you stand and reach to flush what's already gathered, trying to shield some of Mike's face from any flying droplets. Then you wash your hands and sit back down. You figure you'll be here for at least another couple of hours. The sun will be coming up soon. Thank god it's a Saturday. 

 Both Erwin and Nile knock on the door for an update, and you yell that you're okay. Mike isn't throwing up as often, and when he does, nothing is coming up anymore. He's gonna be in a world of pain when he returns to his normal self. 

 So fucking stupid. He's so fucking stupid. 

 He mutters nonsense on and off. Sometimes you can translate what he's trying to say, but other times not so much. 

 "President… dumb boyyy."

 "Hy-poc-risy an' jealous… Hypocrite… I…"

 "Hand… wanna hold…" but when you grab it, he just gurgles, "Waterrr." 

 There's really no pleasing him. 

 "Why-y-y… dick… Erwin."

 "Volcano books… n' space jam… come an' sam… an'... to the jam."

 You laugh too loudly, and Mike cringes at the noise, but the corner of his mouth still lifts. You don't think he knows what he's doing or saying yet—isn't downloading any new memories—it doesn't matter because you will remember this for the both of you. 

 "You're fucking ridiculous."

 Mike pushes himself back from the toilet to sit against the wall, hissing and clumsily rubbing his chest. His shirt is wet and disgusting, and he must know on some level because he says, "Shower," and starts pulling himself over the tub. 

 "Jesus Christ, Mike."

 He's too tall, dangling an arm and a leg over the side and sinking lower. 

 "Water, pleeeease."

 He apparently isn't aware of the faucet that is still on. Whoever has to pay these bills… You feel sorry for them. 

 "No, dude. I am not letting you drown."

 Mike fucking giggles, "Lifeguard," then tries to take his shirt off. He doesn't have the motor skills to handle buttons and looks to be confused by them anyway, so his next solution is to just rip the material down the middle. 

 "Yeah, okay, I guess that works."

 The showerhead is turned on, and you sit on the edge of the tub again, shivering when the cool spray blows toward you while keeping an eye on Mike. Reaching over, you turn the temperature up a little, knowing that the alcohol has dropped his body temperature some. You're almost tempted to slide under the water with him, but there's no room, and you're not about to just make yourself comfortable on top of him.

 So, you just sit and stare and think about how tired you are. Physically and mentally and spiritually tired. You just need some time to not exist—just a few days. It feels like this semester has been nothing but drama so far, and it is exhausting. Maybe that's why Mike did this to himself. Maybe he just needed to not exist. 

 He starts to sit up a little in the tub, but his hand falters and sends him sliding back down. "Fuck."

 Not caring about getting wet at this point, you simply stand up between his spread legs, the shower drenching you immediately, and grab his hands to tug him upright. 

 "ευχαριστώ."

 "Come again?"

 "Means thanks," he mumbles, slumping forward. 

 You think of his family again, how he and his mother had just fallen into Greek as soon as you'd stepped into the house, leaving you surprised and impressed and warm in several different ways. 

 Squatting, you tilt your head to catch his half-lidded gaze. 

 "You back with me yet?" It's been nearly four hours—Fuck, why is there music playing still—but he might need more time. 

 "Dunno."

 "Can you tell who I am?" 

 Mike does his best to roll his eyes. "'m drunk, not a amnes—amnesic—"

 "Amnesiac," you supply with a smirk. Smartass.

 "That," he nods, pointing at you with a finger gun. 

 He can actually understand you now, so that's good, don't have to worry about him dying anymore since he's making progress. 

 Opening his mouth, Mike catches some water in it, swishes and spits. You expect him to tell you that you can leave. He can take care of himself, doesn't want to see you, all manner of hurtful things he has every reason to feel. 

 Instead, he blinks at you, extends his arms, and makes grabby hands. 

 "Can I help you?" 

 He doesn't say anything, just keeps reaching for you. He could grab you without issue. His fingers are already brushing your knees, but he either doesn't notice or wants to wait for you. 

 "Mike, I can't get any closer," you laugh. 

 Switching tactics, he pats his chest. 

 "Oh, no. I am but about to put myself in the line of vom just 'cause you wanna cuddle or some shit."

 Truthfully, you would also like to cuddle, to feel Mike's body against yours again, trace your fingers over his skin and listen to his heartbeat, but…

 Not like this. 

 "Please. No more vom. Promise."

 "I don't think you're in a state to make promises like that."

 He says your name followed by one more, "Please," and you give in, letting out a long breath and grunting as you find a way to lay between his legs with your head on the lower part of his sternum. You're curled a little awkwardly, one foot up against the ceramic while the other is curled beneath you. It is not by any means a comfortable position, but it's what Mike wants. 

 A few months ago, laying like this would inevitably lead to other things. Talking and joking would lead to giggling, maybe some well aimed prods to your ribs. You would bite in retaliation, his shoulder or, if the angle was right, his nipple, until he pulled you up further to sit in his lap, hot mouth finding yours, and so on and so forth. 

 This is different on every possible level. Neither of you are speaking. Your hands are unmoving on each other's bodies. There's no heat save for the water that's pouring down on both of you, plastering your silky costume to your skin. 

 Still, it's enough to lull you into a drowsy state, the ache in your eyes urging you to close them, but as soon as you do, Mike speaks. 

 "'m mad at you."

 Your stomach drops. His words don't come as a surprise, but they still sting. 

 "I know," you sigh. "I'm mad at me too."

 Your head moves with his chest, a gentle up and down that could—and has—put you to sleep. 

 "Still love you."

 You bite your lip, fingers lightly digging into Mike's warm skin as you remind yourself that he's drunk, and he hates you, and he probably won't remember any of this when he wakes up anyway. There's no reason to get emotional over it. No reason. 

 "I love you too, Miche."

 Silence closes in around you once more. You drift in and out for about half an hour until a loud knock jolts you awake. 

 You scramble off of Mike and hop to the door, leaving puddles and drops behind you. Both Nile and Erwin look panicked in the hallway, the shorter man nearly shouting, "Is he fucking dead in there?" 

 "Not deeeead," Mike calls from the tub. 

 Erwin peers over your shoulder at him, then at you, then takes on a disappointed expression. "You didn't. Come on, he's so drunk."

 "What do you—" You frown as you piece together his implication, then squawk and shove Erwin with two wet hands. "I didn't fuck him, you perv! What is wrong with you?" 

 He chuckles and bats away your hands. "I never know with you two! You can't blame me!" 

 "You're disgusting."

 "Look who's talking. Have you seen yourself in the mirror?" Erwin raises his eyebrows. "Less bunny and more… I don't know, ghoul?"

 God, you had completely forgotten about the face paint. 

 "Shut up, yours isn't much better." His black and white paint is smeared in several places like someone ran their fingers through it. The collar of his shirt is stained, and his hair is tousled. You can't tell if it's the result of getting frisky or falling asleep. 

 "Stop flirting in front of meeee," Mike whines loudly, sitting up and pushing the shower knob a little too hard to shut the water off. 

 "We're not—" You and Erwin start at the same time.

 Nile interrupts with a drawn out, unconvinced little note and informs both of you, "You guys get a little flirty sometimes. Sorry to break it to you."

 You frown at the blond and he frowns back, then you both frown at Nile who shrugs. "I'm just saying. There's a reason people are thinking things."

 It's not important, and you'd rather not dwell on it because you know the truth, and Erwin knows the truth, and Mike will if he'll just fucking listen, but he's fucked up right now, so that's a problem for another day. 

 "Whatever, we'll work on it, but for now…" You watch as Mike tries and fails to pull himself out of the tub. 

 "He looks like the girl from The Ring," Erwin snorts. 

 "Yeah, if she was giant. And, a guy," you add. 

 Wet hair is hanging over Mike's eyes, still sopping wet and dripping. He's all awkward angles as he hoists himself up, kicking a leg over and swearing. 

 "We should probably help him," Nile says, fighting his own smile. 

 "Probably."

 Between the three of you, you manage to transport Mike from the bathroom to Erwin's room on the third fucking floor which is no easy feat. Nile waits for his friend to be dumped onto the mattress, then announces that Hitch is waiting for him to come back to bed. You don't know how long that will last, but your friend falling into the same frat boy trap you did is mildly hilarious. 

 It leaves you and Erwin to make Mike comfortable. You wrap his head in a towel you found poking out of the hamper, murmur, "Hope this doesn't have anything gross on it," to which Erwin responds with an unamused look. 

 You peel the ruined, tacky shirt from Mike’s shoulders and toss it into a corner but you let Erwin take care of the rest. You've seen everything Mike has to offer, but that doesn't stop you from feeling weird about seeing his dick when he can't really stop you. So, like Mike did last year when he spilled water on your shirt, you turn your back to allow him some privacy. 

 There's some rustling and grunting, but when Erwin tells you it's safe, you look to find Mike in a pair of gym shorts, hair still wrapped, looking more disgruntled than you've ever seen him. 

 "'m still wet."

 "You sure are, big guy," Erwin agrees, slowly guiding him to lay down on his side and explaining, "You need to sleep like this, alright? Otherwise you might choke and die."

 "Erwin!" You throw your hands up in the air. "Why would you even—?"

 "Know how it works, dumb… butt."

 "Oh, dumb butt. That's a good one," Erwin grins. "Very creative."

 "Don't panotrize me!" 

 You have to cover your mouth to keep from cackling, and Erwin shakes his head, corrects, "Patronize, Mike. Patronize."

 "That's what I said!" 

 It takes a while to get him relaxed again. Apparently, Mike's favorite thing to do while drunk is run his mouth to Erwin, so while he's busy dealing with that, you raid Erwin's closet for a shirt and then his dresser for boxers. Once you are mostly dry, you snatch the towel from Mike's hair to wipe your face and toss it away, then step up onto the bed near the pillows, urging Mike to shift so that you can sit against the headboard. 

 He immediately rests his stubbled cheek on one of your thighs, then wraps both arms around the other, his fingers melting into the fat just below your ass as he grunts, "Mine."

 "All yours, buddy," Erwin assures with a grin before glancing at you. "I'm gonna pass out in the chair—" he gestures to the one in the corner of the room, "—if you need me for anything, just wake me up, okay?" 

 "Yeah, thanks." Then, "Hey, Erwin?" He hums in response. "Don't tell him about tonight, like, me staying with him."

 "Why?" 

 "I don't want him to stress out about what he may have said or done. 'Cause I know he will."

 "Whatever you say," Erwin shrugs, collapsing in the chair without even changing or washing his face. All three of you are gonna look like characters from a horror movie whenever you wake up, and the thought makes you smirk as you card your fingers through Mike's damp hair. 

 It's getting longer. He could probably put it up if he wanted to. He's been letting his beard grow a little too. You aren't sure if it's laziness or just trying a slightly different look, but whatever the case, it's hot. 

 He keeps your leg clutched tightly to him like some kind of stuffed animal until he drifts off to sleep. It's nearing five, and you know you probably won't get any quality rest while you're here, so you figure you'll just doze for a while until you can safely extract yourself from Mike's grip. He probably won't appreciate waking up like this anyway. No matter what he's said to you and Erwin—declarations and staked claims—it'll all be worthless in just a few hours. 

 A symphony of snores plays through the room, Erwin splayed out in his chair like he's passed out in a cheap Vegas hotel while Mike drools on your thigh, and if it was anyone else, you'd be disgusted and shove him away, but since it’s Mike, it’s weirdly endearing. He can slobber on you all he wants, it won’t bother you in the slightest. 

 Eventually, the sun shining through the window becomes too bright for you to even fall into a light sleep, so just as you planned, you gently untangle yourself from Mike, pausing when he grunts and frowns, but when he doesn’t stir any more than that, you manage to slip out of the bed. 

 Grabbing your phone and costume, still a little wet and cold because of it, you leave as quietly as you can. Your shoes are still in the downstairs bathroom along with Mike’s shirt, and you have a legitimate mental debate over whether you really should just toss it, but as much as you hate it, you decide against it. 

 You have to step over several bodies to get to the front door, more than usual which is concerning since the punch Eren spiked was thrown out (or really, thrown all over him), but you’re able to make it out without tripping.

 The drive to your dorm feels too long, sun beaming right into your itchy eyes the entire way. You nearly cry in relief when you finally fall onto your mattress, already well aware that most, if not all, of your day will be spent under the covers. You’re more than fine with it, allowing yourself to just not exist for several hours exactly how you wanted to.

[kushami-hime]

❄️ 🎤 😔 for bakugou and izuku

I did these off the top of my head while in the bathroom at work lmao

❄️ Would it be more unusual to see this character sick during the winter or during the summer? Do they typically go down during cold and flu season, or do they usually get summer colds?

Bakugo; It's very normal for explosion boy to get sick during the colder times of the year, especially since the cold is one of his few weaknesses. So definitely, Summer colds are way more rare for Katsuki. I like to think he weaponizes his sweat if he's feeling feverish but the explosions are a lot more unpredictable and out of control, and its used as a last resort. And if its the quirk flu? You better find a bomb shelter cause that's a disaster waiting to happen!

Deku; Since I headcanon Deku with Hayfever in the Spring/Summer, I'd say it's also rare for him to get Summer colds, and seeing a sick, and also allergic Deku in the wild is like seeing a unicorn. He's completely at the mercy of his body and its weaknesses if he gets hit with hayfever AND a cold at once, so much so he can barely keep his composure while he's sneezing his brains out for days at a time. Even activating One for All on accident occasionally if it gets too bad!

🎤 How does their voice change when they’re sick or allergies are bugging them? Does their voice get lower? Scratchy? Raspy? Can you hear any congestion in their voice or do they hide it well? Do they avoid speaking too much because of a sore throat and coughing, or do they try to talk through those things?

Bakugo; I've said this before about Bakubrat, and I'll keep saying it! When he gets a really bad cold or flu that hits him hard in the chest and throat, it's VERY easy for him to lose his voice completely considering how much he yells. He'll be a pitiful, raspy mess and even if he DOES try to talk, you'll barely be able to figure out what he's saying. He had to try and keep his temper in check or else screaming and yelling will only make his throat worse. As for congestion, he hates how it makes his voice sound, from the dulled consonants and the muddled B's and N's, so he usually tries to keep from sounding ridiculous so no one can tell that he's unbearably stuffy.

Deku; He's still a chatterbox regardless of his voice quality, especially when he's super stuffy, he doesn't try to hide it at all since it's nearly impossible. If it's hitting his throat relatively hard, his voice gets very scratchy and a little deeper too.

😔 What are their “tells” when they’re not feeling their best? Do they sleep more or less? Do they become easily irritated, aggressive, snap at little things? Or do they withdraw and become quieter, cry at the drop of a hat, stay in the background? What’s the one surefire way that one of their loved ones would be able to tell that they’re sick?

Bakugo; He's usually already irritable enough as is, but when he's sick, it's dialed down a bit depending on how bad he feels. If he's drained of energy and fatigued it's very noticeable when he's suddenly ignoring dumb comments and whatever else is going on around him without so much as a curse word or screaming response. He can't get much sleep when he's sick so another tell tale sign he's feeling ill is if his sleep clock is off and he's sleeping way later than normal instead of being up at the buttcrack of dawn.

Deku; He'll be his usual self despite feeling and looking like death, but whenever anyone questions him about it he does his best to deflect their questions and claim he feels alright. That's usually if it's only a small ailment. If it's a terrible cold or flu, he becomes sluggish and much more tired than usual, as opposed to the energetic and happy-go-lucky demeanor that he normally has. He can get a little irritable when he has a bad headache from illness or if his body aches from said illness, though he always tries to apologize for his behavior despite not feeling well.

You can definitely tell if Izuku isn't feeling well if he's not smiling or his usual cheery self. And even if he is, it'll feel forced or unnatural. He doesn't wanna make anyone worry about him, of course.

[friendlyadviceuniverse-blog]

Hi! 20 year old girl here. I've dated/ talked to quite a few guys within the last few years, but never had anything super serious or long term. The thing is, I am always the one to get broken up with... and it used to not bother me but lately it has. people always say "he just wasnt the right guy its okay!" and while that may be true i just cant help but feel down about myself. i'm talking to a new guy right now and idk if there's anything i can do to prevent the past from repeating ugh. thanks!

This is a tricky question, and I’ve been sitting on it for a few days.

Whether or not you can prevent the past from repeating depends on a couple things. My initial answer was going to be no because people can choose to break up with someone for their own reasons, and you can’t exactly force somebody to stay in a relationship with you if they don’t want to. Unless you kidnap them, but that’s generally frowned upon, ya know?

However, if there are particular things you are doing that are driving guys away, then you could gain some measure of control over that. That’s only a good idea if those things are actual problems, though….it’s possible things that are just a part of you are driving people away, and you shouldn’t change them because…well…they just weren’t the right guy.

For instance, if you two have no similar interests, or you want to go out every night and he’s more of a stay in kinda guy, those are just compatibility issues. You shouldn’t try to change those things because they aren’t really a problem, more like just a bad fit.

There are other things that will tend to hurt relationships that one or more partner might do that can and should be changed. In no particular order:

Over-Investment: When one partner is way more invested in the relationship than the other. One person is thinking they’re just, “Hanging out and seeing where things go,” and the other one is already on the verge of planning seating charts for the wedding, there’s a major mismatch in what both people want.

Fix It: Have an honest conversation when you start dating about what you’re looking for. Do you just want a casual relationship, or do you want something more long term? Do you just want sex? Even if you don’t know how it’s going to go right then, you should be honest about what you’re looking for in the long run.

Lack of Trust: When one or more partners doesn’t trust the other. This can look like constant checking in on them, wondering where they are, anxiety over whether or not they’re cheating, wondering about micro-cheating (which is not a thing), or not wanting certain people they might be attracted to around them. These behaviors are also common behaviors in abusive relationships.

Fix It: You cannot be in a healthy relationship with someone if you don’t trust them. Learn to let go of your fears and jealousy - if your partner is happy in the relationship, they will probably remain faithful. You can’t control their actions, and if they do cheat, that just means it’s probably time to break up.

Being Too Needy: Everyone has needs, but if you’re expecting your partner to fix all of your problems, manage your life, and constantly be there whenever you need the slightest bit of support, you’re going to be disappointed.

Fix It: Your partner has needs of their own, and nobody can do everything for another person all of the time. It’s best to have multiple sources of support in your life so that you don’t over-rely on a single one.

Bad Communication: Breakdowns in communication are a big deal. Mostly, this means not talking to each other enough and not being honest when you do.

Be honest, use your words, and be open with your partner. Lying to avoid conflict or protect their feelings (or yours) is just going to cause issues down the line.

That’s not an exhaustive list, there are many other things that could go on it, but those are some big ones.

There’s not much I can say except to pay attention to your relationship dynamics, and to be receptive to ways you and your partner can make things better. If it’s not working, breaking up is a good solution, and one that you can also do if you realize you aren’t happy in a relationship and don’t think it’s fixable.

Also, keep in mind that you’re only 20, which is quite young. Many people at that age (I’m assuming you’re dating within your age range) aren’t actually that interested in a long term relationship yet anyway. There are some, but not all, and that could absolutely be a factor here.

Good luck!