#while drinking gatorade and making rice

[freddie-77-ao3]

travis: what if i made rice with gatorade instead of water so i get my electrolytes that way? cecil, the one actually trying to make dinner (chicken and rice), grabbing a gallon sized bottle of gatorade (where did he get it??) from travis: what if you didn’t.

[vxm1tcxre]

Pvrging harm reduction masterpost (from someone who’s had severe bul1m14 for 3 years, and who wishes they’d gotten this advice)

I get asked a lot and see posts asking for “tips” around pvrging.

I absolutely do not condone it. It’s a horrendously dangerous, unpleasant, and addictive behavior, and often a slippery slope to full-swing bul1m14 (and trust me, that is not something you want, for the sake of your wallet and sanity).

However, I do acknowledge that that doesn’t get in the way of the urge to do it. It certainly didn’t for me. That’s not how 3ds work. Being told how dangerous and horrible something is often is just more enticing. I know people are going to try it regardless. And frankly, I’d much rather focus on tips to stay safe over just telling you “don’t do it” like a Christian parent preaching abstinence. Harm reduction is king, especially on a platform like 3dblr.

So, here is a list of things to help you stay safe.

1. I feel like I should reiterate this again- if you at all can, don’t start. It’s not the c4ls-be-gone magic spell it might seem to be. Starting is what ended my r3str1ct1v3 phase. I thought it’d just be a last resort for when I ate too much. Fast forward to now, it’s been 3 years since my first time and I consume a good 6k+ c4ls every single day, have g4ined a ton of w3ight, feel like shit all the time, have no control around food, am constantly broke, have done things that would make people gag, and have all the risk with no reward. Ultimately, you will not l0se w3ight with pvrging. It gets harder and less effective the longer you do it. While the “you can only get rid of 50%” you often hear is a myth, being bul1m1c destroys your control, and eating maintenance in addition to whatever c4ls you didn’t manage to pvrge will inevitably lead to w3ight gain over time. It simply isn’t worth it.

2. DO NOT USE FOREIGN OBJECTS. It is legitimately so dangerous. Massive choking hazard and generally terrible for your throat. If you can’t get a response with your fingers, don’t do it. I promise, getting rid of some chicken nuggets is not worth getting a plastic fork lodged down your throat and almost dying. (Yes, I am speaking from experience)

3. Some people are simply incapable of inducing v0m1t1ng. It’s more common than is talked about and is completely normal. Frankly, if you have urges to pvrge and find that you can’t do it, consider it a sign.

4. Do not brush your teeth directly after. This is because the bristles of your toothbrush will rub the acid into your enamel, increasing the chances of decay.

5. Baking soda is magic. Swish about a teaspoon with some water in your mouth to neutralize the acid. Swallowing some (significantly less- about 1/4 to 1/2 tsp) is also an easy remedy for acid reflux. Get checked and have your teeth cleaned at the dentist’s regularly- if damage starts occurring, you can catch and mitigate it early.

6. Maintain good dental health as much as you can. Continue to brush and floss regularly. Keep in mind, however, that you can’t avoid tooth decay forever. It’s inevitable with long-term pvrging.

7. One of the biggest risks is electrolyte deficiencies. You often hear of people dying from cardiac arrest. This is because thr0wing up depletes your potassium, which helps with muscle contraction. Your heart is a muscle. If it’s unable to contract, it will fail. After pvrging, replenish your electrolytes. Coconut water, Gatorade, pedialyte, anything that contains the nutrients you just got rid of.

8. Also remember to stay normally hydrated. Even just drinking water is better than nothing. pvrging dehydrates you.

9. DO NOT FLUSH. It’s one of the most dangerous games you can play.

10. Try and eat something safe after the fact, especially if you’re having symptoms of low blood sugar (shaking, dizziness, sweating, a rapid heartbeat). This can be easier said than done but it’s crucial to getting back to normal. Something easy on your stomach with some c4rbs is ideal- toast, rice cakes, crackers, etc.

11. Avoid hot showers or baths or exercising directly after. You will lose more water through sweating. Wash your hands and face- especially around your chin and mouth, pvrge-induced acne is a real thing- and rest for a while.

12. Warm drinks or cold foods like popsicles or ice cream are very soothing on the throat. Throat coat tea and hot chocolate are quite nice. The former may be best if your stomach isn’t feeling well.

13. You will bloat like crazy whenever you eat if you pvrge long term. It’s hell on your digestive tract in general. It’s one of my biggest struggles and pet peeves. Honestly, you can only really wait for it to go away. Remember that it will with time, and do something to distract yourself from it. Some things that in my experience have made it less severe are to eat at a reasonable pace, chew your food thoroughly, and sip drinks rather than chugging them.

14. L4x4t1v3s absolutely aren’t worth it. You don’t really get rid of anything and it’s a fast track to dependency and being horrifically constipated whenever you don’t use them. Stay away. If you must, opt for natural remedies like teas, fiber-rich foods, chia seeds, etc.

15. If you take medication, wait several hours before pvrging. It obviously won’t work if you just get rid of it.

Feel free to reblog this with any advice of your own. I hope this helps some of you; stay safe out there.

[polyamorouspunk]

Hey there. Just wanted to let you know you run one of my favorite blogs. While we're not friends and I certainly can't claim to know you, your posts are always a splash of brightness on my dash. I love all the ask games things you do specially.

I know you're not doing well right now and I know there isn't much I can do to help you with that, but I figured it would be nice to let you know you're appreciated even if I'm just a random stranger half a globe away.

Even if you can't bring yourself to eat something at this time, please consider drinking some water? You deserve to feel better, you deserve care and comfort and filling yummy food and good things coming your way.

I hope tomorrow treats you kindly.

Thank you.

I do feel bad that this year I’ve just been soooo clearly mentally ill, like more than I have been in recent years.

Today I had some Oreo milkshake cookie from Crumbl and my mom bought us a mouse cake slice each!

Been eating a lot of yummy foods lately, especially since I have IBS I try and just enjoy what I can eat when I can eat it.

I’ve def always had weight issues and weight-image issues but even though doctors always want you to “have a better diet to manage symptoms” it’s like. 1. I’m not going to eat only rice and drink only Gatorade to prevent myself from having symptoms 2. If literally anything can make me sick at any time for any reason I might as well eat whatever I want when I’m NOT actively sick, and then when I do get sick is when I start doing some damage control and restricting what I eat to make myself less sick.

And honestly a few of my friends are similar body types to me and I think they’re really hot and it’s made me feel a bit better about myself!

I’m not doing well right now and I’m not really sure how any of it is going to go. I always feel like I’m just like “well I’m in the middle of it and it needs to be resolved but I can’t resolve it right now so I’m just stuck here” but I’ve been able to do some self care like reading, I just finished a book in like? 3 days? Which is pretty good for me nowadays.

I’m managing my anxiety right now by getting some food I just ate, and then I’m going to listen to a podcast while I fall asleep to focus on that instead of my own wandering mind. I have therapy tomorrow morning and I’m not really looking forward to it to be honest but it is what it is.

Every message I get helps. Every person who reaches out helps. I’m so lucky to have the platform I do because if I didn’t I don’t know if I would have been able to make it this far without even more cuts and bruises, both literally and mentally.

[cryptidsurveys]

Sunday, October 6th, 2024.

When did you last drink coffee? I'm drinking coffee right now - with almond milk and pumpkin spice creamer.

When did you last cry? And why, if you feel like sharing. I was about to say that I couldn't recall the last time I full-on cried (I didn't cry over the recent family drama even though it would have been perfectly understandable; I don't think I truly cried over the Alex situation, although there may have been some tears in my eyes…), but then it hit me - Wild Robot had my emotions spilling all over the place. My mom said, "That movie definitely had me choking up," and I was like, "Yeah, I cried like four times!!!" :')

What was the last beach you visited and when? I visited Ocean City while staying with friends of the family in NJ. I think I was around 16 years old. Possibly 17. The other day, my dad and I were trying to figure out when my sibling moved in with my mom, and we ended up going over my whole teenage timeline, trying to figure out when this or that happened, and it made me realize that stage of my life has become a jumbled blur. There are certain events I can pinpoint down to the exact date, but when it comes to other things, I can't even remember the year in which they occurred.

What book do you plan to read next? I would like to read Ecology Of Souls by Joshua Cutchin. I've read all of his other books and that was his latest release. However, I know from experience that they tend to fry my brain (not because they're especially dense or difficult, but because his passion is fizzy and contagious), so I'm just…trying to prepare myself, lmao. At the moment, I'm reading a story by my best friend called M.A.Z.E.

What fictional character/s remind you of yourself? There are plenty of characters I can relate to in one way or another, but none of them really remind me of myself.

What's in your fridge right now? List as many things as you can think of. Mustard, ranch dressing, sriracha sauce, brown sugar & cinnamon cream cheese, Greek yogurt, eggs, chocolate syrup, almond milk, salad greens, cheese, a pistachio & walnut muffin, some cookies, coffee creamers, grapes, some baked goods and bread my dad brought home yesterday afternoon, Gatorade, leftover beans and rice, hamburger and hotdog buns, and a lunch I packed this morning for a trip to the Mountain Park (we ended up not going due to car trouble, boo).

If you could have any artist, living or dead, paint your portrait, who would it be? I'm not sure.

Do you smell anything in particular right now? No.

Do you make enough money to live comfortably? [can be in combination with a spouse] I live with my dad and we share our incomes, and yes, we do have enough to live comfortably.

What is one thing you like about your appearance? Don’t say nothing! I like that working at the animal shelter has made me more toned. It's made the necessary weight gain more tolerable. My skin is looking better, too. I bought a new lotion the last time we went grocery shopping, and it's made a rapid difference. It's Jergens oil infused nourishing honey, and it's just like…where has this been all my life?! I've tried a number of different lotions over the past year or so, but I think this is finally it. The One.

What would you like to tell your father? I already feel like I can tell him anything.

What would you like to tell your mother? I wish I could tell her this on a soul level rather than directly because I don't know how she would react or if she would understand. But basically, I'm sorry if it begins to seem like I'm avoiding you or closing myself off again. I just feel like I'm caught in the middle of an impossible situation, and I don't know how to handle it without feeling like I'm betraying myself or my dad. I never wanted to walk this tight rope, but it is what it is, and I'm doing the best I can to stay true to myself and my own very complicated emotions. I know you're stuck in the middle as well, a sort of mirror or reverse image of my own circumstances, but my loyalties lie where they do and all of us are going to have to forge our own path through this, I guess.

Whose was the last wedding you went to? Steph and Shelly's back in 2014.

What is your greatest fear? Losing my dad.

What is a chronic health issue you deal with, even if it’s minor? Migraines. Also, a level of fatigue that feels abnormal. Maybe I've done more damage to my body than I realized and it's finally taking its toll. Maybe I'm not doing as well or eating as much as I think I am. Or maybe everyone is this exhausted and they're just better at hiding it, but somehow, I doubt that. Physically, I'm capable of more than I thought I was, but I'm still so damn tired.

What was your college major? If applicable. My first failed attempt at community college was with an English major. My second (also failed) attempt was Visual Communications.

What new place have you been to recently? I haven't been anywhere new recently.

What are you a geek about? Paranormal phenomena, the lore behind conspiracies and cryptids, outer space, ancient history/megalithic structures.

What is something you have no patience for? When certain people at the animal shelter get uptight about blanket colors. Like, "Omg, Benjamin is a BOY. Why does he have a PINK blanket?!" Ma'am, Benjamin is a KITTEN. All he cares about is being cozy, safe, and fed. He doesn't care about your weird human gender hangups.

What celebrity would you want to go out for a meal/drinks with? I don't really care about celebrities, but I would love to meet the creators behind some of my favorite podcasts (Belief Hole, Brothers Of The Serpent, Where Did The Road Go? Radio, etc)

Are you happy with your weight? I'm not happy with it, but I can accept it for what it is. I can either weigh less and lose the animal shelter, or weigh what I do and do what I love.

When did you last hold a baby, if ever? Whose? I have no idea.

How many cats do you have? We have three kitties - Esther, Karenna, and Lacy.

How many dogs do you have? Zero.

How many other pets do you have? I don't have any other pets, but we've had a number of cats over the course of my life, as well as fish when I was younger.

How old were you when you got your driver’s license? 20.

What year did you graduate high school? I didn't graduate, but I got my GED in 2006.

What is the first number of your zip code? Eight.

How many of your grandparents are still alive? Zero.

What is your favorite number? I have a strange relationship with the number 19, but as for a favorite number, I don't really have one.

How many kids do you want? I don't want children.

How many apartments have you lived in? One.

What age do people say you look? I told Kristen my age when she first started working at the shelter and she was like, "No way, I thought you were like 25!" Flattering, but I don't think I look 10 years younger than I actually am. :')

Do you feel like your family accepts you for who you are? I feel completely accepted by my dad. My mom accepts the version I present to her, which isn't entirely dishonest, but it is only a small part of who I am. I don't have any contact with my sibling, so I don't really know which aspects they would accept and which ones they wouldn't.

Who is the best doctor you’ve ever had? I'm not sure, but my last doctor connected me with my current therapist (who is the best therapist I've ever had), so I'm eternally grateful for that.

Have you ever been flipped off by a random stranger? Not that I can recall.

Do you have a lot of people blocked on Facebook? I don't use Facebook.

Do you consider yourself spiritual? Yeah. I guess so. Not so much in a woo-woo way (although there is an element of that), but more because my beliefs are a mishmash of multiple religions/practices and not one singular thing.

Do you consider yourself religious? I believe in God and do incorporate certain religious aspects into my life, but like I said above, I'm kind of a melting pot of beliefs.

Are you afraid of spiders? I have apparently become the resident spider rescuer at the animal shelter. Last Thursday was hilarious. Paris sent out a radio asking for anyone who wasn't afraid of spiders, and I was like, "That would be me!" So, I went and saved her from a wolf spider in ISO. A little later, she radioed again, asking for me specifically. Another (smaller) spider in ISO. That guy was fast, so it was a bit of a challenge, but I got it done. Then a third time - a teeny tiny spider on a pillow in the office. Quickly whisked outside. And a fourth time. A BIG'UN in Duke's kennel. Unfortunately, I wasn't allowed to go into the kennel with him even while he was leashed up and restrained, so Iris (manager) went in there and brutally smashed the shit out of it.

Are you afraid of snakes? I would be cautious if they were venomous, perhaps even afraid depending on the circumstances, but for the most part snakes don't bother me at all. I'm much more comfortable with them than I am with spiders, although my fear of spiders has greatly diminished. I've rescued so many from the shelter that it's just become like ho-hum.

Does everyone in your family know your sexual orientation? I'm not even sure how I would classify my sexual orientation. I go with "pansexual" because it's the simplest way to get my point across, but it's more complicated than that.

What is one thing you find offensive? I'm hard to offend when it comes to political and social views. I just don't care what some rando thinks about this or that. I'm more likely to be offended or hurt by something personal.

Do you often post about politics on social media? No. I almost never do anymore.

Would you ever want to go back to school? I would consider going back to school to become a vet tech, but it's not something I'm planning on doing any time soon.

What are three things you are naturally good at? I'm not sure.

What are three things you are NOT naturally good at? Making small talk, math, and makeup.

Is your dream to get married and have kids? I would like to get married one day, but I have no interest in having children.

Where do you hang your towel to dry after showering? On a hook on the wall.

If you were the opposite sex, how would you style your hair? Idk.

Last person you hugged? Nancy. A volunteer at the shelter who does a shit ton of our dirty laundry.

How is the weather right now? 67*F, sunny, and calm.

Are you missing someone? Yeah.

What do you have handy at your bedside? Nothing really.

What is your dad's middle name? N/a.

What is your mom's middle name? N/a.

First thing you'll save in a fire? My kitties.

[curiousitycollective]

other options for this;

gatorade/poweraid/other electrolyte drinks. they're meant to help athletes replace salts and provide energy so it will help with blood sugar and salt levels

if you have anything with ginger in such as ginger tea or candied ginger have a bit of that, ginger has been shown to be an effective nausea treatment so it will help in both getting food and dealing with nausea

try sucking on a piece of candy or chewing some gum for a while, this helps signal to your body to get ready to eat and gives time for your digestive system to adjust.

apples and bananas are both generally easy on the stomach, low effort to prep, and good for getting something light in you to settle your stomach.

if you can't have bread (shout out to all the other folks with celiac disease out there) rice or boiled/baked/mashed potatoes work too. we generally throw rice in the rice cooker or a potato in the oven and sip on gatorade until its done.

more on the avoiding this happening side, if you're prone to this it helps to have a bunch of snacks throughout your living space so you can easily see food (and remember it exists) and grab something once you realize you are hungry. our house has fruit bowls and jars of granola bars in various rooms to prevent us or roomies from going 18+ hours before remembering food and it helps so much

in general the gross nauseous feeling is often because your blood sugar and/or salt levels have tanked and your bodies thrown off. getting something with a bit of sugar and a bit of salt can help reduce that and give your body time to adjust while you make something more substantial.

also no matter what getting some food is better then no food. if you only have the energy for cereal eat it, if getting mcdonald's from delivery means you eat something for the first time today get the delivery. the first step is always getting something to eat.

suggestions are suggestions because they are helpful but if nothing on here works and something else does do that thing.

-Scarlet/smile

[foodresearchlab]

Sports drinks as functional food

Introduction

Any drink consumed while engaging in sports or exercise, be it while preparing for, during or after exercise for recovery, is called a sports drink. The main objectives of a sports drink are to accelerate rehydration, to provide carbohydrates for use during exercise and to promote recovery. They also replace some electrolytes that may have been lost while engaging in physical activity. A sports beverage or drink usually contains water, a carbohydrate source and electrolytes. Other constituents of sports drinks include vitamins, minerals and choline, and they may or may not be carbonated. The salt and carbohydrate concentration of a sports drink is roughly similar to that of the human body. Sports drink was first formulated by a group of scientists led by Dr Robert Cade at the University of Florida in 1965. It was common for players to be hospitalised due to exhaustion and dehydration, and about twenty-five football players died due to heat-related illness; the first sports drink, Gatorade,  helped improve the performance of the football players. The commercial success of Gatorade gave rise to developments in sports nutrition and functions beyond fluid replacement, such as endurance and muscle growth.

Sports drinks in the present

The beverage industry is exploring alternative natural sweeteners with fewer calories. Stevia is one such example of a potent low-calorie sweetener that was granted Generally Recognised As Safe (GRAS) by the Food and Drug Administration. A primary reason for this shift is consumers’ increasing interest in natural ingredients in food products. Gatorade Endurance and Life AID is an example of a sports drink made entirely of natural flavours and colours. Another development is the combination of fruit juice and energy drinks, known as ‘hybrid’ drinks. An example of one such drink is Free Radical Scavengers (FRS) Healthy Energy. Sports drinks have also become sport-specific; for instance, the Golazo line of beverages is specific to soccer. They contain coconut water as an electrolyte source, while agave syrup provides carbohydrates. Innovations like ready-to-drink protein beverages have been developed for recovery post-exercise. The drinks are also fortified with B vitamins to offer nutrition, thereby increasing its nutritional value and rendering them functional drinks [1].

Future trends

The consumer base for sports beverages has broadened over the years due to increased health awareness. A rising number of fitness clubs have also opened the avenues for sports drink innovation and growth. However, one thing remains clear. Consumers demand transparency in the formulation. Any changes in the formulation, when labelled as ‘no added sugar’ and ‘GMO-free’, serve to increase or retain the consumer base. Additionally, some companies provide a complete ingredient breakdown for increased transparency, using attractive labels to assure consumers that the product they are purchasing is safe [2].

Alternative protein sources are explored and utilised for sports drink formulation, like brown rice and pea, since there are fluctuations in the price of whey, and consumers nowadays prefer plant-based protein. Another trend that could be noticed is that of hybridisation, which enhances the functionality of the drink. For example, supplements, phytochemicals and botanical extracts could be included in sports drinks. In addition, the drinks are also becoming more specific, like age, gender and occasion [1].

Conclusion

Sports drinks were developed with the intention of restoring fluids and electrolytes that have been lost during exercise and aiding recovery. This sector is becoming increasingly diversified to cater to different age groups, gender, and the type of sports the consumer engages in. Beverage formulation centres like the Food Research Lab helps to develope sports drinks using natural ingredients and offer clean labelling that increases consumer acceptability, making the product successful.

[miekasa]

how would the aot babies take care of you/cheer you up when your sick?

Levi makes sure you’ve got everything you need, and then some. The first thing on the list is a shower; he knows you might feel like hell, and it doesn’t have to be a long one if you’ve got a headache, but you need to take one, nonetheless. It’s not a matter of cleanliness, it’s about your mental state. He’ll remind you to take Advil every few hours, get you warm drinks and water, and make sure you rest; all the basics. He’ll set up a humidifier in your room if you’re feeling stuffy, and he’d make food for you, too, so that you’ve got something to eat. Takes care of anything you might need, whether it might be chores, emailing your professor/boss about late work, or running errands for you. Honestly, he’s not the type to really cuddle with you, knowing you probably already feel hot as it is, and it does pose a risk for germs; but he’ll stay in your room with you and read or watch a show; and once you’ve gotten past the worst of it, and are moving around a bit more, if you situate your head in his lap, he won’t move you away. 

Eren might appear hopeless, but he’s actually not that bad. One of the few things he cooks very well is a soup that his mom used to make for him when he got sick as a kid, so his first move is going to the store. He picks up anything else he thinks you need while he’s out because he doesn’t wanna have to leave you to go back to the store. Once he’s done cooking, he’ll sit with you while you eat it, and maybe even have a bowl himself. He’s got a pretty good immune system, so he doesn’t mind forgoing possible infection to lay in bed with you. He actually spends a great deal of time thinking about your symptoms and how it’s affecting your body, and how that relates to his coursework; it sucks that you’re feeling bad, but it’s kinda cool to him that he understands what’s going on with you at a molecular level. His primary goal is to make sure you’re well fed and resting; no studying, or working, or doing anything but taking it easy while he’s around. It’s really just him taking the time to lay with you and cuddle you back to health as best he can. He’d probably even give you his hoodie to stay warm (also because he likes the way you look in it), and wear one himself so you guys can match.

Mikasa’s like Levi, in that she knows exactly what to do to help you feel better, even if you think it might not help. She feels pretty bad that you’re not feeling well, and wants to make sure you’re feeling better as soon as possible. She wouldn’t want to leave you alone for too long either, so she does whatever schoolwork she can from your place, and really only leaves to go to class (after you’ve ensured her that, “I’ll be fine for two hours, Mika. You have a quiz, go.”); and she doesn’t waste time getting back to you when her lecture is over. She also encourages you to take a shower when you feel like you can stand for a bit longer, and she tries to get you out of your room a bit too; even if it’s just migrating to the couch for a few hours, the change of environment can do wonders. Kisses your forehead when you’re drifting off to sleep, and cleans up for you while you nap. 

Jean is a surprisingly good nurse, and almost clinical in how he takes care of you; he keeps track of your temperature, when you ate, and the time you took your meds in a note on his phone (“Tylenol is every 4 hours, but Advil is every 6. You can should more Tylenol now, because you’ll probably be knocked out by midnight when you’re due for more ibuprofen, baby.”) He’s always been this way, even when it came to taking care of himself, his mom, and Connie and Sasha when they’re sick (that’s when he got serious about the meds situation, because if he hadn’t stopped Connie freshman year, that idiot might have murdered his own kidneys with amount of Tylenol he was taking). He’ll cook for you, too, but he is more hesitant about being around you because he can get sick himself, and he’s a miserable thing when he’s sick; but he’s still there to care for you when you need him. He nurses you back to help pretty quickly and efficiently, and is still silently looking over you for a few days after, just to make sure you’re really free of your fever/sickness. 

Connie doesn’t get sick often, which is why he nearly overdosed on Tylenol freshman year when he was sick for the first time in five years, and away from home with no instruction; so, god bless his soul, but he’s not the best help in the medicine department. He does know how to use the internet though, so he’ll look up info if he needs to, and other remedies that might work for you. He might not be the best nurse, but you’re his baby, and he’s not just gonna leave you hanging. He’ll order food for you, watch TV/play games with you, he might even try and do some of your assignments for you bless his heart. He sets a timer after you take your medicine, and it scares the shit out of him when it goes off; he almost forgets what it’s for before he’s springing up and heading over to you with a water bottle in hand, “Babe!! Time to take more medicine!!”

If you’re sick, then there’s an 8/10 chance that Sasha is sick, too, and you both probably caught the same bug when you were out together. It sucks, but at least you’ve got a buddy to be sick with. Because you’re both already down for the count, sick cuddles are a thing, and neither of you are sure if you’re really helping the other, but at least you have each other. It makes it somewhat easier this way; you take turns ordering food, taking your meds at the same time, and you know that if she’s downing a bottle of Gatorade, then you should probably be doing the same. If you’re both really bedridden then, your best bet is to call in Jean or Mikasa for extra reinforcements. Once you’re both feeling better, she treats you to some “real food,” because living off of soup, rice, and vegetables for a week was easily the worst part of it. 

Armin doesn’t like that you’re not feeling well, but he doesn’t want to get sick, either, so he does somewhat limit his interactions with you. Trust that he’s going to care for you however he can, but if he’s going in your room, it’s probably with a mask and gloves on, and for as little time as possible. He doesn’t freak out that you’re sick tho; he understands how colds work and that you’re not on your deathbed, but he is responsible enough to know that it’s not worth getting himself infected (and forcing you to take care of him after) just to sleep next to you for the night. While you’re sick and napping, he’ll definitely take care of your coursework for you; doing whatever assignments he can, and emailing your professors about absences if you’ve missed an assessment. His grandparents probably have some age-old remedies they used on him as a kid, so he’ll call them up and ask for their advice, then do his best for you.

[anotherdayforchaosfay]

After you reach 100% Vitamin C, you urinate the rest out. The idea behind vitamin-c curing Illness stems from sailors and scurvy. A lack of vitamin-c resulted in scurvy. To prevent it, they brought oranges with them (and if memory serves, that's how naval oranges got their name). Because it cured/prevented scurvy, some folks took to believing it can cure virtually every illness.

This is something a couple doctors and nutritionists explained to me.

Stop wasting money on supplements with massive amounts of vitamin-c in them.

Plus, drinking a bunch of orange juice will result in heartburn and a lot of other problems due to how acidic it is.

For nausea, ginger is perfect. Lemon and/or honey will make it taste better and go down more smoothly. Consuming a lot of peppermint can result in heartburn.

Licorice root in tea eases a sore throat, but make sure you don't drink too much of it. It's a medicine, and too much can and will fuck you up in unpleasant ways.

Zinc plays a major role in your immune system. Consuming 100% of your daily need will help boost your immune system, but speak to a doctor about rhis before you start binging on it. Too much zinc can have adverse effects.

Eating unripe bananas will fix diarrhea better than virtually any other medicine or remedy. Diarrhea leads to dehydration, and dehydration will kill you. The average human can survive 10 days without food, but no one can go more than three days without water. The "ripped" loom that's gotten so popular in films is caused by three days of dehydration. Those actors are weak as newborn kittens and on the verge of collapse and death. Staying hydrated while sick is vital to your recovery.

Many people sweat a lot while sick. Increase your salt intake. Don't overdo it! Chicken broth contains a lot of things your body needs when recovery from illness, and salt is one of the ingredients. Soups containing chicken broth are often recommended for this reason.

Eating gentle foods makes a big difference too. When nauseated, eat simple and bland foods, like crackers or rice. You'll be burning a shitload of calories fighting illness and need to replenish them to continue recovering. To do this, you must eat.

You also burn through a lot of electrolytes. This is why Gatorade and similar drinks are recommended while sick. Choose a flavor you don't like because you're gonna be drinking a lot of it, andvery likely associate that flavor with being sick. Don't spoil your love for your favorite flavor.

If uncertain about any of this, talk to a doctor. They'll provide you with necessary information and help you figure out what is safe for you, especially if you have chronic conditions and/or taking medications.some insurance companies have a nurse line you can call, and the person you speak to can provide you with this information.

These are things my doctors (I have chronic conditions and take lots of meds) explained to me. Cocktail OTC cold medicines, like Nyquil, can seriously harm you. I learned this the hard way when I had pneumonia several years ago. It landed me in the ER because of the reaction it had with my seizure medication. The doctors in the ER gave a long lecture on the dangers of those drugs. Don't use them without speaking to a professional, like a pharmacist, who can look up info about drug interactions and risk levels with any medical conditions you have.

[titan-fodder]

Prima Vista Part VIII

[ previous ]

Rating: E (explicit; mdni) Pairing: Mike Zacharias x fem!reader wc: ~13.2k

Warnings: this one fucking hurts, pining, stupid decisions, miscommunications, explicit sexual content (it’s time for something we’ve been waiting for), yet another party, angst A/N: Read this, but before you murder me remember there’s one more after this. Also, this isn’t the big thing you’ve been waiting for, but I know it’s something a lot of people have wanted to see. Enjoy this ouchie. 

Mike doesn’t feel human when he wakes up. He’s nearly positive he no longer is—body taken over by some creature of the bog with toxic breath. Jesus, what the fuck happened last night?

 Blinking hurts. Shifting his leg hurts. His chest is fucking killing him, feels like he bruised his god damn sternum, and when he moves to sit up in a bed that is not his, overwhelming nausea has Mike groaning and covering his mouth with one hand. 

 “He has risen,” a vaguely familiar baritone voice rings through the air, loud enough to make Mike wave his other hand in an attempt to mute it. Erwin chuckles, paying him no attention apparently as he speaks again, “Good timing, too. I just came to drop this off.”

 Mike tries to focus his bleary eyes on the nightstand where his friend sets down a bottle of water, a bigger bottle of Gatorade, and several liquid gel pills. 

 “Chill here for as long as you need. I’m just watching the pledges clean downstairs. Want me to bring the trash can over?” Erwin’s concern can’t entirely hide the amusement in his voice. It’s irritating, but also… Mike needs that trash can.

 “Yeah,” he croaks through his palm. “Thanks.”

 Erwin nods and grabs the little plastic bin, setting it down next to the bed. Mike considers just picking it up and sitting with it in his lap, but he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to stay upright for long enough.

 “I’ll be downstairs. If you need anything, you’ll just have to yell because your phone is definitely sitting in a bag of rice in the kitchen right now.”

 “What?” Mike frowns. How even…

 “It got wet,” Erwin states, like that clarifies anything. “Probably in the shower.”

 “Why was I—”

 “We can talk about it when you’re less…” Erwin gestures to Mike’s face with one finger and grimaces as he finishes, “Green. You didn’t do anything too terrible, though, so you can rest easy.”

 He leaves, and Mike chokes down the pills and a few gulps of water before gently laying back down. He has to retrace metaphorical footsteps to get to the last thing he remembers from the night before, and it’s body shots off some blonde clone. His order of events goes: hanging out with Rhi, talking with you and Erwin, Zeke showing up, catching Eren mid-roofie attempt and throwing him out, getting mad at Nile, and then just a lot of drinking. Too much. Of different kinds. That had been dumb. 

 He thinks he spent a little while in the bathroom. Erwin was there. And, Nile came and went. He thinks he may have heard your voice a few times but can’t be sure, and honestly, trying to recall anything from the period of time his brain was literally incapable of processing new memories is a pretty big waste of time.

 Mike spends most of the day in Erwin’s room. He drifts in and out of restless sleep, waking up to drink his water and Gatorade. At some point, one of the kids, Jean, knocks on the door and drops a bowl of soup off, mumbles, “Erwin told me to bring this up here.” Mike hasn’t spent a ton of time around the current pledge class, but Erwin must like Jean if he trusted the kid enough to give him his room code. 

 The soup settles his stomach enough to move around a little more. His headache ebbs into a dull throb, and the sharp ache in his chest fades into that of a bruise. By around five o'clock, Mike is finally able to amble downstairs, give everyone a tired wave, mumble his thanks to Erwin, then drive himself to his apartment. 

 He's still trying to piece together what happened the night before, but he just ends up more confused than before, so he decides to put it behind him and move on. Everyone deserves a wild night every once in a while. 

 *

 Thanksgiving nears. Mike has already made plans to go home to his parents which means he has to turn down the Pike house Friendsgiving offer that Erwin extends to him. 

 He tells Mike that Nile and Hitch will be there, but Marie might show her face, "So, that will be interesting." 

 Some of the brothers who can't make it home will attend. Erwin is bringing Maddie who Mike hasn't heard about in several months, but he's pretty sure that's just to throw him off the scent of whatever Erwin has going on with you. You, who will also be in attendance because apparently your mom opted to go on a girls trip instead of face the family. Mike can't blame her. 

 He thinks maybe he should reach out to you, to ask about the night he blacked out because he has a feeling you can give him some details that others can't, but Erwin assures Mike that you were only in the bathroom with him for a short time. "Just long enough to see you rip your shirt which she seemed a little too happy about."

 Mike doesn't know what he'd say to you anyway. Even after learning that Zeke had blocked his number in your phone. He's still mad that you let the fucker get close enough to do that in the first place, that you had chosen him. It's a wound that just won't heal. Any time he sees you or hears your name, all Mike can think about is why he wasn't good enough. 

 So, he keeps distancing himself. It seems like the most appropriate thing he can do until he decides he'll be able to have a conversation with you without blowing up. 

 Mike's parents are happy to see him when he walks in the door. Scout jumps on him until he picks her up and holds her like the puppy she is not. He isn't surprised when his mom asks about you, if you and Mike sorted things out. The question hurts even if he was expecting it, seems like yesterday you were walking around the house like you'd always been a part of it. 

 Lying is the easiest path to take. He tells his parents that you had to go home for the break, that you couldn't split up your time between two families in just four days, and, of course, they buy it. 

 Thanksgiving day is nice enough. The family travels a couple cities over to Mike's aunt and uncle's house. It's much bigger, has room for the relatives that are able to make it. There are traditional Greek dishes as well as the usual turkey, stuffing, cranberry sauce, etc. A few pictures here and there, entertaining his younger cousins—it's a good time. 

 Until Mike checks his various social media apps and sees the pictures from Friendsgiving.

 They're tame, nothing wildly inappropriate, but they still make Mike scowl as he thumbs through them. 

 One of Nile cutting into the turkey, of Reiner ripping into a drumstick, Connie hoarding all of the cranberry sauce while his best friend, a girl named Sasha, does the same with the deviled eggs. Gelgar looks to be crying with a dot of potato salad in his hair. Marie is indeed there, glaring in the background of a photo where Nile and Hitch are tapping beer bottles together with silly smiles. She looks much happier in the shot of her and Maddie sitting together, laughing over glasses of wine. 

 Mike's heart stutters when he gets to a photo of you aiming to toss food into Reiner's mouth, then of you and Erwin both holding beers in one hand and pointing matching finger guns with the other.

 Thick as fucking thieves. Two peas in a god damn pod. Mike wants to throw his phone out the window of his dad's suburban. 

 There are several more pictures that Mike doesn't bother to look at. He'd like to have a good time with his parents for the remainder of his break, and there's no way he'll be able to do that if he's pissed off. 

 So, he distracts himself. He goes on walks with Scout and plays with her for hours, watches old movies with his mom and dad, calls a couple relatives from overseas to catch up. But, those pictures are seared into the back of his mind, surfacing whenever he has down time. 

 He doesn't have any desire to go back to campus, not if he's gonna see you and Erwin together. His friend can deny it all he wants, but Mike knows something is going on between the two of you, and as he drives back to the college, he finally has the realization that… you might just be a shitty person. 

 Yeah, you have issues, but so does everyone. It doesn't excuse you from—from fucking toying with people, from using them as puppets whenever you need to. Mike wishes he'd never even tempted you to sleep with him that last time. It had felt too good and too right, but apparently you don't feel the same way. You went right back to Zeke once you'd gotten what you wanted, and Mike should have seen that coming. He should have been prepared for it. On some level he knew that's what you'd do, but that never stopped him from hoping that maybe… maybe it would have opened your eyes. 

 Plus, it ruined the entire Jurassic Park franchise for him, so that sucks. 

 He picks up where he left off both in his classes and in his social life. He stays away from PKA as much as he can but still attends meetings when necessary. The lacrosse season is coming to an end, so he tries to make the most of it. Rhi ends up in his bed again, both of them taking what they can from each other. Erwin jokes that he's gonna fall in love with her— "You know what happened the last time you tried to keep it casual," —and Mike nearly decks him in the face. 

 You don't try to talk to him, no texts or calls. When you see each other on campus, you don't spare him more than a sad glance as you pass him. 

 Mike is fine with it. He isn't about to be the one to make the move to talk things out. Honestly, he doesn't know if there's anything to talk out. You dated Zeke, and now you're dating Mike's best friend and trying to hide it. 

 He's mad at both of you, but it's easier to channel that blistering anger toward you rather than Erwin who he has to see on a regular basis. Besides, Erwin has always gotten around. Mike isn't especially surprised that he'd try his hand with you especially after what happened at the ranch house, but fuck, couldn't he have waited until after he and Mike graduated or something? Just disrespectful. That's what it is. 

 *

 "Bro, I do not wanna go to another party," Mike's voice rises in frustration. "Consider me partied the fuck out, okay? I'm tired of 'em."

 "It's not even a party," Erwin tells him. "It's more like a gathering of… like-minded individuals."

 Mike snorts. "Yeah, okay." 

 "I'm not kidding! Like, twelve people at the most. All we're doing is hanging out at the ranch house."

 "Will there be drinking?" Mike questions, moving his head back and forth in a mocking way. 

 Erwin shrugs his shoulders where he sits. "Of course there'll be drinking, but you don't have to partake. I just want you there to chill. Come on, man."

 "Who's going?"

 The blond lists off some of the Friendsgiving group, but he doesn't get to finish because once Erwin utters your name, Mike cuts him off with a loud, "Nope!"

 "Duuuude," Erwin sounds like the frustrated one now, not that he has any right to be. 

 "Don't dude me! Why the fuck would you think I'd have any interest in watching you two giggle and cuddle n' shit."

 "Mike," Erwin groans, rubbing his forehead. "How many times do I have to tell you…"

 "You don't have to tell me anything. I already know what I need to know."

 Standing up, Erwin seems like he's at his wit's end when he barks, "You don't know shit! You're seeing what you want to see without asking either of us! She misses you, dude. I'm just the next best thing."

 "Nice to know your dick game isn't better than mine at least," Mike grumbles. 

 "Jesus Christ, you know what? I don't care. Come to the house, or don't come. Whatever."

 Erwin takes long strides to get to Mike's front door, obviously ready to get away from him. He slams it hard enough to make Mike flinch. 

 He doesn't care how annoyed Erwin is with him. It's partially his fault that Mike doesn't want to go to the gathering, and he should know that. He'll come to understand eventually, and that thought makes it easier for Mike to make his decision. He's not gonna go. He refuses. There's no way. He won't—

 Mike ends up going. 

 After powering through finals and visiting his parents for another few days. He has a mental debate the entire way to the ranch house, swearing to himself, going over the pros and cons. He comes close to turning around more than a few times, but after a couple hours, Mike finally pulls into the large circle drive right behind Levi's black Prius. 

 Erwin is extremely surprised to see him but keeps his mouth closed about it, just tells him, "Room upstairs on the far right is still open."

 Mike drops his stuff off then greets the others—Nile, Gelgar, Reiner, Jean, Marco, and Levi. 

 "Wasn't expecting to see you here," the last states, focused on burning the loose string of his hoodie with a lighter. "Erwin told me you guys had some bullshit argument."

 "Happens sometimes," Mike dismisses as he takes a place on the couch. 

 "I guess. This is why I don't have a lot of friends. Can't put up with stupid shit like that."

 "Oh, is that why?" Mike rolls his eyes. 

 Levi snickers, shaking his head. "Aw man, he was right. You are in a bad mood, aren't ya'? 

 "Man, fuck off."

 They sit in silence for a few minutes. Mike is bouncing his foot where it's thrown over his opposite leg—anxious or angry or some other negative emotion he needs to get rid of. 

 "Party's gonna be a fucking sausage fest," Levi mumbles. 

 Nile passes behind the couch just in time to hear and informs the smaller man, "Not entirely. Maddie, Marie, Hitch, and Mike's little heartbreaker should be getting here soon."

 Mike groans internally but speaks out loud, "This was a mistake. I can't fucking be here if you guys keep talking about her."

 "If you can't handle us talking about her, how're you gonna handle seeing her?" Levi scoffs. 

 Erwin has stocked the bar with craft beer and various wines. Mike considers going ahead and breaking a few bottles open, but he resists—doesn't want a repeat of the forgotten party. 

 They set up a horror video game upstairs and an animated adult series downstairs. Erwin wasn't lying about it being a more relaxed environment than usual, but that doesn't stop Mike's neck from prickling when you arrive with Hitch at around five. Maddie and Marie show up a couple hours later, and Mike can feel the tension that surrounds all four of you. Amusing as it can be, he really doesn't have the patience for cattiness tonight. 

 High quality Chinese food is provided courtesy of Erwin's father's credit card as well as dipped strawberries that Nile keeps feeding Hitch. It gets Marie very heated very quickly, and Maddie has to talk her down in another room. 

 It makes Mike wonder if you would ever let him feed you like that or if you would snort and bat his hand away. What the fuck do you think you're doing, Zacharias? That's couples shit.

 It makes him sigh and slouch on the couch, thankful you're upstairs watching Connie play the most recent Resident Evil. 

 He knows you're not a fan of horror, so the only reason you'd be up there is to avoid Mike. 

 Good. 

 Erwin is the first to open the wine. Maddie won't leave his side, stuck to him like a magnet. The fact that he has to get a drink only furthers Mike's theory that Erwin didn't invite her as a real date. 

 He spends a fair amount of time shooting the shit with Levi. It isn't necessarily the most enjoyable conversation considering Levi's constant smartass comments, but it's better than trudging up to the second floor. 

 Nile fucks Hitch in the bathroom for everyone to hear. Marie starts crying and runs to the porch. This gathering is about as insufferable as Mike assumed it would be. 

 Eventually, you journey downstairs. It was inevitable. You spare Mike a glance and sigh as you make your way to the kitchen to grab a beer—you don't even like beer, so why—

 "Hey, can you grab me one too?" Erwin calls out, and when you hand it to him, he gives you that hundred watt grin Mike knows brings girls to their knees, but while Maddie stares at him with that dreamy look in her eyes, you just snort and gently shove him. 

 "Don't fuckin' look at me like that, Smith."

 Ah, the last name card, the one that you pull to act like you're all aloof when really you're just reeling them in. 

 "Like what?" Erwin asks before taking a sip, still smiling around the rim of the bottle. 

 "You know what."

 Mike chooses then to go upstairs, knowing he steals your attention as he stomps like a toddler throwing a tantrum. 

 Why did he even come here? Was it just to give himself more reason to brood? Solidify that he's valid in being angry? 

 Connie is trembling as his character makes his way through a decrepit house. Jean laughs every few minutes, but he also startles at every jump scare, leaving Reiner to call both of them pussies as he bites into strawberry after strawberry, throwing the stems into a little bowl in his lap. Mike supposes the first years are entertaining enough. He can see why Erwin invited them here. 

 It's close to nine o'clock. Mike is bored out of his mind, can't help venturing back downstairs mostly because he's tired of watching the pledges swear and shout at the video game (including Reiner now) but also out of morbid curiosity. 

 Marie has returned and is sitting in the kitchen with Maddie, both of whom are glaring into the den where you, Erwin, Nile, and Hitch share the couch. Hitch may as well be in Nile's lap, but you're sitting on the back ridge, feet planted on the cushions as you hunch forward and nurse a beer. Your knee is against Erwin's arm, but that's the only point of contact. Still, whenever something funny is said on the TV show, he looks up at you, as if to check that you're laughing, taking it in. Mike can't blame him. You have one of the cutest laughs he's ever heard. 

 Levi and Gelgar are both on plush loveseats on opposite sides of the room, either scrolling or typing on their phones. 

 Again, Mike has to think about how laid back the party is—even if he's a mess. It's so different from the raucous scenes he's used to—blasting music and keg stands and dancing on tables. This would be infinitely preferable if it weren't for the open pit in Mike's stomach. 

 If he could just chill the fuck out, pay absolutely no attention to you and Erwin and the way his fingers slowly wrap around your ankle when you won't stop bouncing your leg. 

 Not together his ass. 

 When Mike gets a text from Rhi, he basically sighs in relief—the perfect opportunity to forget about you for a while. 

 He doesn't bother asking to make sure it's okay with the host, just messages back, what are you doing rn? and immediately asks her to come over, knowing she only lives about an hour away. 

 Naturally, she agrees. One of the only great things about Rhi is that she’s always, always down to fuck. Mike doesn’t know if it has something to do with his size or if she just has a high sex drive. Either way, he’s glad for it.. 

 He meets her on the porch after waiting for what feels like an eternity, just having to sit and watch you kick Erwin’s thigh whenever he says something dumb. He always retaliates by pulling on your little toes which makes you squeak and almost fall off the couch. It’s fucking maddening, makes Mike want to pull his hair out or throw something, just trash the fucking house because Erwin deserves it. 

 But, then Rhi arrives in all her Ugg boot glory, wearing the old, green hoodie that you had given back to Mike a few months ago.

 They walk in, Mike’s hands on her shoulders like he’s pushing her over the threshold. You look up, take the other girl in, then very quickly step off the couch and prance into the kitchen without saying a word.

 Erwin, however, makes up for your silence, wide eyed as he stares at Rhi and utters, “Fuck.”

* You didn’t want to be like Maddie and Marie, jogging to a private place to cry over a fucking boy, but god, you are definitely locked in the bathroom, hunched over the sink sobbing as quietly as you can. Your nose is running, and your eyes are burning, leaking god damn rivers

 It wouldn’t have been so bad if she was just in her normal winter sorority get-up. But the hoodie? The one you wore for months on end, the one Mike would sniff whenever he would lay his head on your stomach, mumbling something about, “Smells good. Might have to take it back.” He didn’t have to say it out loud, but you knew he always felt a little jolt of pride when you’d wear it, like you were advertising how close you were to him.

 So, to see another girl wearing it—to see Rhi wearing it—it fucking hurts. Your throat is sore from holding back those loud, pained cries. Your stomach is rolling like you ate something spoiled. Your fingers ache from digging into the fancy, granite sink. Everything hurts. 

 It makes you wonder if Mike felt like this when you first told him about Zeke, if he feels like this now that he thinks you’re with Erwin—stupid, stupid, stupid. You shouldn’t have waited so long to talk to him. You should have cleared things up right after the party. Now, it’s too late. 

 There’s a knock on the door that makes you sniff and wipe your nose, but you still tell whoever is on the other side (most likely Hitch or Erwin), “Go away.”

 “It’s me.” Erwin. "Let me in."

 "Literally what did I just say?" 

 "If you don't unlock the door, I'll kick it in. It's my house, so I won't get in trouble for it."

 "Oh my god," you grumble before turning the lock on the knob. "Spoiled fucking brat."

 Erwin steps in and closes the door then takes a good look at your puffy face and red eyes. Sighing, he leans against the wall. "For the record, I didn't invite her. Mike must have—"

 "That doesn't make me feel any better," you say, grabbing some toilet paper to blow your nose. "Actually, it makes me feel even worse."

 "I just wanted to make sure you knew."

 "What, d'you want brownie points or something?" You ask sarcastically, making sure the toilet lid is down before sitting on it, bracing your arms on your knees and looking up at Erwin to find him frowning. "Sorry. I'm being a bitch, I know."

 He waves it off. "It's understandable. I'm not very happy with him either. The perpetual shitty mood is driving me crazy."

 You don't know much about that other than it being entirely your fault, so you apologize, "Yeah, sorry about that."

 "If you guys would have just talked it out like adults—"

 "Well, we didn't, Erwin. And, it seems like it's not even an option any more, so…" you hold your hands out in a clueless fashion, like you're at a loss. "I don't know what you want me to do."

 Your voice is thick, straining against the lump in your throat. Vision going blurry again, you shove your palms against your eyes, repeating, no more crying, no more crying, no more crying. 

 "I'm sorry he's doing this to you," Erwin says quietly. 

 You sniffle, almost laugh when you reply, "Not really different from what I did to him. Like," you have to blow your nose again so it doesn't start running, toss the toilet paper into the waste basket next to you. "I don't know if he's trying to get back at me or legitimately moving on, but I can't exactly hold it against him."

 "Still," Erwin takes a couple steps toward you. "Pulling this kind of shit is fucked up. He had to have known it would hurt you on some level."

 "You don't have to, like, take my side or whatever," you state. "I know we're friends and all, but you don't have to coddle me like this."

 "I'm not trying to coddle you. I'm sympathizing. There's a difference."

 "Whatever it is, it's unnecessary," you mumble.

 "Yeah?" Another step closer so that he's right in front of you. "So, you weren't planning on crying in here for the rest of the night?" 

 "No," you're quick to deny, but your lips quirk upward when you correct, "I was gonna go up to my room and cry in there for the rest of the night."

 Erwin shakes his head then pulls you into a strange embrace, pressing your face to his stomach with one hand while the other settles between your shoulder blades.

 Your first instinct is to shove him away, but his shirt is soft and smells like detergent, and his stomach is firm and grounding against your cheek, and the knuckles rubbing up and down the top of your spine are warm and soothing. 

 So, you stay in the slightly awkward position, shutting your eyes and trying to relax, but all you can think about is Mike walking in with his hands on Rhi and the way she looked in his hoodie. Is she cuter than you? Does she smell better than you? Does she treat him better than you did? 

 Tears well up in your eyes once again, dampening Erwin's shirt as they slip over your waterline, and before you know it, you're clutching the material covering the small of his back and crying against him. 

 And, he lets you—just keeps stroking between your shoulders and shushing you with a quiet, "I know, I know. It'll be okay." 

 Erwin is cocky and bold, takes things a little too far sometimes, but, just as you thought last year after he stole that kiss, he is good. Even if he's broken too many hearts to count and completely disregarded people's feelings, he's a good guy. At the very least, he's good to you, and that's what you need at the moment. 

 "What time is it?" You speak into his shirt. 

 "About eleven thirty."

 You hum and turn so that your forehead is resting just above his hips. It could be a suggestive position, but—

 But nothing. 

 You blink a few times, weighing the situation, everything that unfolded tonight—everything that's unfolded over the past semester and… it would make sense. It's not like you've never thought about it before. You're worked up and need to unwind, need to clear your head, and besides, Mike already believes there's something between you and Erwin, so why not take advantage of that?

 Sucking on your bottom lip, you go through a list of pros and cons. The biggest downside is that Mike will be upset with you. He already is, though, so there’s isn’t much to lose on that front. The upside is that you'll be able to forget about him for a while and possibly get an orgasm out of it. 

 "Hey, Erwin…" You're not entirely sure how to bring it up, but it turns out you don't have to. 

 "Don't fucking ask," he huffs. Perceptive bastard. 

 You push away from his stomach and look up at him. "Okay, why, though?"

 His head is hanging back, gaze trained on the ceiling as he admits, "Because if you ask, I won't say no, and it'll only make things worse."

 Something about that gives you butterflies. That's a good sign, means you might be invested enough to finally let your mind wander from Mike. 

 "Mike already thinks we're fucking, though, so unless you don't actually want to fuck me, I don't see why we shouldn't."

 Erwin walks backward until he hits the cabinets. His full lips are pressed into a tight line, and his blue eyes look like a warning. Don't push me. 

 "Do you honestly think you won't walk away from that feeling guilty?" He questions. "We know we aren't sleeping together, that we aren't actually doing anything wrong even if Mike doesn't believe it. But, to actually go through with it?" Erwin lets out a little chuckle and crosses his arms over his chest. "I probably won't feel bad 'cause I'm kind of an asshole, but you? You will feel awful."

 "I already feel awful," you remind him as you stand. "I already feel guilty. If you think I could feel any fucking worse than I already do, you might be overestimating my—my—I don't know—emotional capacity?"

 Moving forward, you nudge Erwin out of the way to get to the sink, splashing cold water on your face to clean it of dried tears. You cup a hand under the faucet, then toss some water into your mouth, swishing, and spitting, and turning back around. 

 Erwin's gaze is dark and not at all subtle when he eyes you up and down. 

 "I might hurt you, you know," he states in a voice that's considerably deeper than before. 

 You raise your eyebrows, unconvinced. "You don't have to worry about me catching feelings, Smith. Relax."

 Mouth tugging up on one side, Erwin smirks in a way that makes you squirm where you stand. 

 "That's not what I meant."

 It takes you a moment to decipher what he's trying to say, but you breathe an, "Oh," when you realize, then another as it truly sinks in. "Oh."

 That's okay, you want to tell him. I want to be hurt tonight. You only want it if it will hurt. If you confess to that desire, though, Erwin might back out—a disappointment considering the way you're starting to get a little excited. 

 "If I can handle Mike, I can handle you," you say, fully aware that he'll take it as a challenge. If there's one thing you know about men, it's that they thrive off competition. 

 Erwin is no different as he slides in front of you, hands finding your hips and pulling them to his. He's already half hard in his khakis, and you stand on your tip-toes, brushing against him as you do, to tilt your head back and hover just under his mouth as you tease, "Don't tell me you haven't thought about it before."

 "You have no idea how often I've thought about it—how often I think about it."

 You nip at his bottom lip, enjoying the way he licks it afterward. "Have you been holding back since we started hanging out—just the two of us?" 

 His fingers dig into your back, just above the curve of your ass, and you already know there will be small bruises left behind. 

 "Do you want me to paint a picture?" He rumbles, and you nod, pressing a kiss to his throat. "Any time I have you in my room I think about fucking you. On the bed. Over my desk. Up against a wall…" A little gasp makes its way out of him as you bite down on the skin you've been sucking on, and Erwin ruts against you a couple times before continuing, voice a little more strangled than before. 

 "Thought about fucking you downstairs on the couch for the whole frat to see, all spread out, moaning like a porn star. I know what you sound like," he whispers, catching you off guard when he suddenly lifts you to set you on the counter. "I've heard the way you scream for Mike." 

 There's a pang in your chest at the mention of him, but it's gone just as quickly. 

 "And, you'd like it, wouldn't you? Being watched." Erwin trails his lips from your temple to your ear, making you shiver when he speaks into it, "You can pretend all you want, but I know you liked it when I walked in on you and him. You liked being on display."

 He isn't wrong. You replay that instance in your head a little more than you probably should. 

 Hearing the fact stated now, though, right to your face has your body heating, arousal flooding you and making warmth pool between your legs. 

 "You can admit it, it's okay. I've known for a while now."

 One of his hands moves to the inside of your thigh then further up, fingers dancing over your covered pussy. It's your turn to gasp. You clutch his shoulders and spread your legs despite knowing there's no way you'll be satisfied with this, not when thick denim is separating you from his touch. 

 "Don't get too cocky, Smith." You try to sound confident, but it's hard to when your breath keeps hitching. 

 "Why?" He grazes his teeth over the sensitive space below your ear, and it makes you twitch in his grasp. "I have every reason to be."

 He goes on to list every other place he's thought about fucking you—apparently just about every setting you've ever been in with him. Each and every Pike party, the locker room before or after a lacrosse game, his Mustang, Mike's Wrangler.

 "That's fucked up," you somehow manage. 

 Erwin shrugs his shoulders, mumbles, "Can't help it," then slots his lips against yours for the first time (or, the first consensual time). 

 You're reminded of Zeke, the way all you did was compare him, only now with Erwin, you have two men who flash through your mind. He's softer than Zeke but just as bold as he cradles your head and slips his tongue into your mouth—tastes sweeter than Mike (probably from the strawberries), but it's not necessarily a good thing. It isn't bad either. It's just Erwin… Different. 

 His hair doesn't brush your cheeks like Mike's does. He doesn't have glasses to dig into your skin. Clean shaven, no coarse hairs to tickle against you, and he's smack in the middle in terms of height. You have to crane your neck more than you did with Zeke but less than you had to with Mike. 

 It's all a little jarring, but you feel this was always sort of an inevitability, at least once you started spending time with Erwin one on one. You never would have let this happen if you had stayed with Mike—if you had actually taken the next step with him—but that's why you started hanging out with Erwin in the first place. 

 You never noticed the way your back and forth was flirty, mostly just you giving him shit about one thing or another, but apparently others read further into it. And, you've had as good a time as you can. The heartache has put a damper on things, kept Erwin mostly off your radar save for the days you woke up frustrated and desperate, but that's what your vibrator is for. 

 Apparently, while you were busy making sure things stayed friendly between the two of you, Erwin's mind was getting away from him. Every god damn time you hung out, he told you, whether it was at the house or out to lunch, walking with you to classes or out to your car. 

 He did make it a habit of touching you, you can admit, but none of it was inappropriate—a nudge to knock you off balance that would result in you hitting him, a prod in the ribs that would result in you squeaking and hitting him. Sticking a foot out to trip you that would result in you…

 Dude obviously likes to be slapped around. 

 There's also the hugs. Up in his room when you feel extra gloomy, he'd wrap his arms around you and sway back and forth. Sometimes he'd sit and pull you with him, turn on a movie and keep a tight hold around your shoulders. There were afternoons you'd walk into his room while he was studying and just pass out in his bed, up too late the night before from worrying and obsessing, in need of a nap before your evening lecture. He'd set an alarm for you, stay up for a while longer before allowing himself to take a break and crawl under the blankets beside to—

 Oh, god, you've been dating Erwin Smith. 

 You have to break away from him to laugh, lightly hitting your head against his chest so that he chuckles and asks, "What?" 

 "I—" You look back up at him, shaking your head to yourself. "I can't believe I didn't fucking see it."

 "See what?" 

 "You and me—"

 "You and I," he corrects, and you shove him. 

 "You and I have just been doing what Mike and I were doing."

 "Uh, excuse me," he holds a finger up. "We have not been having endless sex, thank you."

 "That's not—" You roll your eyes. "I'm saying we've been dating without actually dating. Like, I get why everyone thinks we're a thing."

 "Oh," Erwin nods, sucking his teeth for a second then adding, "Yeah, I was wondering when you would figure that out."

 "Fucker. Did you do it on purpose? Like, just to prove you could?" 

 He frowns, looking genuinely offended. "Christ, what kind of person do you think I am?" 

 "Not twenty minutes ago you confessed to being an asshole."

 His face softens when he snickers. "Okay, true. But, no. I'm not trying to manipulate Mike or you for that matter. You've been upset, and you've put up with a lot of shit over the last few months, and I just figured you could use a friend."

 Staring up at him, you notice the way his face is turning a little red, and you hold your tongue between your teeth as you smile knowingly. 

 "You caaare about meee."

 He scoffs and looks away

 "Heartbreaker Smith cares about a girl," you tease. "How embarrassing."

 "Laugh it up. You would've been miserable without me."

 "I mean, yeah, but still. What's it like having a platonic girlfriend?" 

 He tilts his head to the side then reaches forward to squeeze your thighs. "Is it really platonic if we're about to have sex?" 

 "Absolutely. Hundred percent."

 "You're not even a little worried that it'll become a regular thing and you'll fall in love?" The arrogance is both astounding and amusing. 

 Cocking your head, you take a deep breath, expression one of false sympathy as you pat his stomach. "I'm positive. Unfortunately, my heart belongs to another."

 Erwin clicks his tongue before moving forward and sliding his hands between the counter and your ass. "I'm a little hurt, honestly. I'm used to fucking a girl and having to hide out for a while afterward—always so clingy."

 You squint, can't tell if he's being serious or overdramatizing to annoy you. 

 "You know what? Nevermind. I don't even want your little playboy ass anymore—"

 Naturally, he turns the charm back on right then, getting too close to your face, blue eyes flicking to your lips before he breathes, "Don't lie," and presses a tiny peck to them. "The tough girl act is only believable for so long."

 "Wow, fuck you."

 "That's the idea," he smirks. 

 "Har fucking har. You're so funny."

 Erwin pulls you closer to the edge of the counter and grinds his hips against yours then prompts, "Your room or mine?" 

 "Mine," you reply. "I'd rather you have to do the walk of shame later."

 "Probably a good idea since you won't be able to once I'm finished with you."

 You actually laugh out loud. It would have worked on you a few minutes ago, but all the joking has you a little giggly at this point. 

 Fuck, he is going to make a great distraction. 

 "Okay, calm down. Don't make promises you can't keep."

 "Sounds like a challenge to me."

 "Men," you sigh. "So predictable."

 After minutes more of unnecessary banter, Erwin finally coaxes you out of the bathroom you've both spent far too much time in. Your face has cleared up, the urge to cry subsiding, though your heart still drops in your chest when you pass behind Mike and Rhi on the couch, green eyes tracking you as you walk up the stairs in front of Erwin. 

 This is not the right way to solve a problem, but it'll probably be fun for a while. It's already fun as Erwin kicks the door closed and walks you back to the bed. He isn't even touching you, just watching you with a hazy blue gaze. He isn't smiling, looks like a predator, and honestly, it's ridiculously attractive. 

 "Stop making that face."

 "What face?" 

 "That—that—"

 You run into the bed, wave your arms to keep your balance, but Erwin presses his fingertips to your chest and just barely pushes to knock you back. 

 "What face, hm?" 

 The hair on your arms and neck is standing on end, anticipation bubbling in your gut as you try to crawl higher on the mattress only for Erwin to grab you by the ankle and tug you back down. 

 Damn. He's good at this. 

 "Stay," he commands, straightening up to take his shirt off. 

 He's tan and toned, light blonde hair sprinkled over his chest and above the waistband of his pants. 

 You're reminded of the very first Pike party you went to, the first time you slept with Mike (and can't remember), walking downstairs the following morning to find Erwin in the kitchen wearing sweats and drinking his coffee and smirking at you like he could tell the future. 

 Maddening. He's maddening. 

 You rid yourself of your own top then shimmy out of your jeans. Erwin eyes you hungrily, causing your whole body to tingle. It simultaneously makes you want to cover yourself and spread yourself open for him. 

 "I have been waiting way too fucking long for this," Erwin mumbles, raking fingernails down your torso so that you take in a shuddering breath. 

 "It's been, like, a y-year and a half." Your back arches on its own volition, hips bucking as Erwin scratches over the bones before catching your thong and pulling it down. He kneels at the end of the bed, a familiar scene save for the head of shiny, golden hair.

 "A year and a half of having to look but not touch."

 "Poor little—" you gasp when he parts your folds with his thumbs, staring at your pussy then blowing a stream of air over it. 

 "Do you know how many times I've jacked off to the thought of you? How many times I've slept with other girls while imagining it was you?" 

 You want to make another smartass comment, tease him about being a pervert or in his feelings or something, but you can't find your voice as he licks a long, slow stripe up your slit. You stare at the ceiling, not even blinking as too many signals fire in your brain all at once. 

 Erwin is good with his mouth. Like, stupid good. He has a teasing rhythm, flicks your clit with the tip of his tongue until your muscles are coiled then moves to trace the ring of your entrance, taking his time as you turn from human to puddle. 

 He’s better at this than Zeke who would purposely graze his teeth over your sensitive little bud a little too hard on purpose, would suck on it until it hurt. He liked when you whimpered for him, liked leaving raised welts on your ribs and back from where he’d scratched. The intermixed pain and pleasure never failed to make you come, but the climb up to that precipice was usually precarious for lack of a better term.

 Then, there’s Mike (because of course there is). His mood usually determined how he would take you, hard and fast before a game or slow and lazy as you both relaxed in his room. One thing always stayed the same no matter his disposition, and it’s that he fucking worshiped your pussy—even said it on multiple occasions. He would eat you out like a starving man, lapping at your juices like it would quench his thirst. Some days he would overstimulate you to the point of tears, neverending licks lavished over your clit as he pumped thick fingers in and out of your cunt. Other days he would go down on you like it was a fucking hobby—turn on a movie, spread you out on the foot of his bed, and eat you out while only halfway paying attention to the TV. He could pull multiple orgasms from you that way, letting you come around a finger or two before returning to your pulsing clit. Fuck, you used to make such a mess. He’d spend minutes trying to lick you clean, but you always ended up in the shower afterward.

 You shouldn’t be thinking of that right now, though. You should be thinking about Erwin’s clever tongue and the fingertips just barely brushing over sensitive skin. You want them inside of you, want something to clamp down on, but no matter how much you pull his hair or utter a breathy, “Please,” he keeps the same pace, only moving on when he feels like it.

 He’s doing it on purpose, trying to break you before even getting to the point of fucking you, and if you’re being honest, it just might work. He’s gonna make you lose your god damn mind tonight. Exactly like you want to.

 “Fuck, how much p-practice have you had with th-this?”

 Erwin laughs, stilling your wriggling by curling his arms around your thighs. “Too much, probably.”

 You whine when he continues, but when he starts softly sucking on your clit, you’re surprised at how close you suddenly feel, your legs naturally trying to spread further but remaining immobilized in Erwin’s grip. The threat of not being able to move only intensifies the building sensation in your gut, and soon you’re gasping his name, eyes rolling as you try in vain to buck further into his face. 

 You feel more than hear Erwin groan, a deep vibration that pours over your clit and makes you twitch. He gives you a few more long licks, then pulls back and stands, exposing the way his mouth and chin are covered in a glossy sheen. 

 “Feel better yet?” He smirks.

 You wave a lazy hand, don’t want to fluff his ego too much, so you allow him to witness your borderline stoned state while still jeering, “I’ll feel better when I have your cock inside me.”

 Erwin laughs to himself, mutters, “Eager,” then takes his pants off. 

 Pushing yourself up on your elbows, you give his cock a cursory glance and stop. “Hold on,” then slide off the bed and to your knees. 

 If you’re gonna fuck Erwin Smith, you’re at least gonna appreciate it. 

 He inhales sharply as you place your hands on his thighs, eyes traveling over his length. It’s pretty, above average in size, smooth, with a flared tip that’s currently flushing a dark pink. 

 “I really hate to admit this, but you could be, like, a dick model.”

 He chokes on some kind of snort, and you swear his entire chest turns red. “I—thank you?”

 “You’re welcome,” you tell him, promptly taking hold of his cock and guiding it into your mouth.

 “Oh, fuck, fuck—”

 His skin is soft against your tongue, warm as you take him deeper. His girth stretches your jaw, but you’re still pretty used to the feeling, had to get used to it with Mike because he’s a little bigger than—

 That’s not important. 

 Erwin breathes through his teeth as he places a hand on the top of your head, and when you look up at him through your eyelashes, he lets out a disbelieving little laugh. That confident fucking tease is nowhere to be found as you swipe your tongue over the tiny hole leaking pre then surge forward, almost pressing your nose to his pelvis as you run the muscle back and forth under the base of his cock.

 “Shit, let me—let me lean against the bed,” he says, pulling you off him and chuckling, “Gonna make my fucking knees buckle.”

 You turn where you’re kneeling, waiting for him to get better stabilized before resuming your efforts to ruin this annoying, charming frat boy who is always put together. You suck and slurp and trigger your gag reflex a couple times. Erwin’s fingers scratch against your scalp like he’s looking for purchase. He’s careful not to be too brutal as he pushes you down on his cock, raising his hips to meet your rhythm. His head is thrown back, thighs tensing under your hands as his chest rises and falls with short breaths. 

 You have to work up to it, but once you feel loose enough, you press forward and let Erwin slip further into your throat. His voice sounds like honey when he groans a low, “Hoooly fuck,” letting his head hang down as he attempts to stare at you with unfocused eyes. 

 “Okay, okay, okay,” he huffs. “Keep going and we won’t get to the main event.”

 You pull off of him with a lewd pop then raise to your feet. Your knees are a little sore, but it’s nothing some exercise won’t work out. 

 “Want me to wear a condom?”

 “I don’t care. I’m clean and on birth control,” you tell him. “What about you?”

 “Well, I’m clean, but I haven’t gotten my birth control prescription refilled in a wh—”

 You flick his chest, and Erwin laughs as he bats you away. 

 “Alright. Up on the bed with you then,” he motions to the mattress. “Lay on the edge.”

 You do as you're told, spreading your legs for Erwin to stand between, and you bite your lip when you feel him rub the head of his cock between your folds. You’re still wet with slick—probably dripped onto the carpet when you were giving him head—which makes the glide easier as he teases you. 

 “Ready?” He asks, wriggling thick eyebrows until you smile. He doesn’t wait for an actual answer before he starts pushing in, pressing your legs to your chest as he slowly seats himself in your cunt.

 You’re making that face—eyebrows moving toward your hairline as if you’re worried, jaw dropping open as air is pushed from your lungs. Erwin looks focused, licking his lips as he gazes down at the way your pussy stretches around him. 

 He thrusts in and out at a tortuous pace, apparently waiting for you to start trembling around him before he deems you ready to take more. Every one of his movements is measured, slowly pulling out only to push in all at once. The ridge of his cock drags over your g-spot, pressing firmly against it and making you claw at his shoulders. 

 He feels good, satisfying, but he’s not quite as good as Mike who used to hit all your spots without even thinking about it—somehow making you beg like a whore and sing like a little girl in Sunday school all at the same time. 

 Still, you don’t have to lie when Erwin quickens his pace and pants, “Feel good?” 

 “Fuck—yes, yes, Jesus Christ—”

 He’s pulling all manner of crude sounds from your pussy, wet and greedy as it sucks him back in with every rut of his hips. The angle is perfect—his height paired with the bed on stilts has him hitting your spot every time, and you feel the need to warn him, “If you keep—keep fucking me like this—god—m’gonna squirt.”

 “Fuck yes,” he praises, wetting a thumb in his mouth before bringing it down to massage your clit. He only speeds up as your voice rises, body confused like your muscles don’t know if they should be flexed or relaxed. 

 You feel that tell-tale burning, that urge that only gets stronger the more Erwin abuses your g-spot and presses against your clit.

 “Shit, shit, shit—”

 Erwin groans when fluid starts to trickle from you, pushes more and more out of you while quickly swiping two fingers over your clit. The sense of relief is mind-numbing. You can’t even be upset that your sheets are gonna be damp whenever you decide to sleep. 

 He doesn’t slow down, doesn’t lose his rhythm, just sticks his two wet fingers into his mouth and sucks them clean. 

 You see it now—the skill, the appeal, why the girls always come back to him. It makes sense. He’s devastatingly handsome, especially like this, all fucked out and flushed, hair out of place, lips red and swollen from biting them. 

 Yeah, Erwin is fucking hot.

 But, that doesn’t mean he’s your type. 

 Pulling out, he flips you onto your stomach, and you have to stand on your tip-toes as you lean over the bed. The burn in your calves disappears almost entirely when he slides into you from behind, pelvis pressing against your ass as he curls over you, cupping your tits and tweaking your hardened nipples as he gifts you with a series of shallow thrusts. It makes you whimper and teeter forward, unable to balance and squirm at the same time. Face suddenly buried in the mattress, your cries are muffled by the blankets. Erwin’s hands travel back to your hips, rocking you back and forth on his slick cock. He’s getting a little rougher, pressing into you as deeply as he can, and the fact that you’ll be sore from this tomorrow gives you a strange sense of satisfaction. 

 Only way to get over someone is to get on top of someone else, right? Or, underneath in your case. Being a little more in control wouldn’t be the worst thing, though, so…

 “Erwin, Erwin, fuck—Lemme ride you.”

 There is no hesitation. Erwin slips out of you and throws himself onto the bed, grinning crookedly as he watches you climb over him on unsteady limbs. His patience must have worn out some time ago, because he holds his cock with one hand, using the other to line you up with it, then guides you down his length. 

 You have to sit still for a second, or you would like to, but Erwin is still holding your hips, and he rocks you back and forth in his lap like he knows. He probably does. He’s probably fucked enough girls to notice exactly when their eyes pop open, when they shudder and break out in goosebumps because that pressure is hitting exactly where it needs to, and yeah, he knows. 

 Finding it in yourself to move again, you lean over Erwin, planting your hands on the pillows by his head, then start bouncing on his cock. He hisses in a dark, appreciative way, eyes and hands immediately drawn to your chest. He sits up enough to suck one of your nipples into his mouth, licking and pinching then doing the same to the other. 

 He’s so good—feels so good, knows just where to touch, the exact place to bite on your neck that makes you melt, but how—how does he know that? It’s like he has a sixth sense or—

 Or, he just paid attention to the bruises that Mike used to leave on the sides of your throat. That checks out. 

 Fuck, he used to mark you like he wanted everyone to see, especially that last night. It was almost animalistic, like he had been—marking his territory, Zeke’s voice plays in your head. It makes you frown, and you rid yourself of the thought only to replace it with the memory of Mike’s mouth on your skin, his calloused fingertips trailing down your torso, huge hands wrapping around your legs to pull you against him—

 You whine, glad it sounds like a sound of desperation rather than frustration. You just want to stop thinking about him. Just an hour—if you could go a single fucking hour—

 “Hey, look at me,” Erwin commands in a soft voice. 

 You open your eyes, still hovering over him, and expect him to say something, but instead he just reaches up to the back of your head and pulls you into a kiss. 

 He’s helping move you on top of him, forcing you to take his cock over and over, and like this, so close and breathing him in, you don’t even have the room to think about Mike. 

 Both of your bodies are damp with sweat, and Erwin’s hair is a mess, pushed from his flushed face. He bites down on your bottom lip and tugs, only letting go to ask, “Where do you want me?”

 “I don’t care,” you groan, legs and arms and pussy growing sore. You’re not surprised; you’ve been going at it for a while now. 

 Erwin licks your lower lip as if to soothe it after biting it, tells you, “Oh, don’t give me that option. You know where I’ll pick.”

 Smiling, you straighten up then move to fit your feet underneath you so you can bounce more freely. “You can come inside, dude. It feels good to me, too.”

 “I really don’t know how to respond to being called ‘dude’ when I’m balls deep in a girl.”

 You shrug, “Sorry not sorry,” then raise and drop yourself, feeling in charge for the first time tonight. 

 “Fuck—shit—”

 That feeling is short lived as Erwin goes right back to using you the way he wants. You think for about half a second that he’s finally, really losing himself, but the accuracy of his finger on your clit proves that is not the case. He’s clearly having a good time, but he isn’t at that feral stage that Mike falls into sometimes.

 Before you can dwell on it for too long, you hit your peak, moaning Erwin’s name, hips moving uncontrollably as you ride out your orgasm.

 He’s speaking, mumbling praise or pleas or curses, you aren’t so sure, but after about another minute of fucking into you relentlessly, Erwin comes, shooting line after line inside of you until he’s spent and twitching. 

 With your two previous partners, this is usually when you’d fall forward and cuddle, catch your breath and enjoy the feeling of being all plugged up.

 But, it’s Erwin, huffing and blinking up at the ceiling then finally stating, “That was a dumb idea.”

 It makes you laugh for some reason, probably because you agree. 

 The sex was great. There is a reason girls talk about him on campus, about his sexual prowess or whatever, and if you weren’t too busy suffocating in your little pit of heartbreak, thinking about your best friend nonstop, you wouldn’t mind fucking Erwin again. And, again and again.

 That’s not gonna happen, though. The heat of the moment is fading, every mental faculty returning to you, and despite the fact that you’re still seated on his cock, as you look down at him, you feel absolutely no spark.

 He’s ridiculously attractive, pretty fucking brilliant but with a dumb sense of humor, and you love him. You really do. He’s done a lot for you over the last semester, made it at least somewhat bearable, but… This shouldn’t have happened. 

 Hopefully, it quelled his curiosity, though.

 “I told you it would just make you feel shitty,” he mumbles, but he doesn’t look sad. Sympathetic more than anything, resigned that he’s probably going to have to pick up the pieces of another mess. 

 “Yeah,” you drawl. “You were right.” Your joints pop as you stand, towering over Erwin for once and leaking his fucking cum as you hop off the bed. 

 “It’s been known to happen from time to time,” he jokes absentmindedly, wiping a few drops of white off his stomach then reaching for the tissues on the nightstand. 

 You don’t feel awkward or out of place, but you have no idea what else to say. The only thing that comes to mind is, “I’m gonna take a shower,” as you walk toward the bathroom.

 Erwin moves on the bed, stretching a little before grabbing his pants and leaving you to your devices, but you pause before stepping onto the tile, turn back and pace over to him.

 “Hey,” you start, and Erwin glances up from the button of his khakis. “Thanks.”

 He rolls his eyes, a small smile playing at his lips, and once he’s all zipped and buttoned up, he pulls you into a hug. 

 “I would say any time, but we probably shouldn’t do this again.”

 “Yeah, probably not.”

 You breathe into the space under his collarbone, humming as he gently scratches you back, then break away. “Alright, actually gonna shower now.”

 Erwin nods, “You do that,” then slaps your ass as soon as you turn around. 

 You look at him over your shoulder with raised eyebrows, but he just winks and tells you, “I had to. Just once,” which is fair. 

 You run a hot shower, scrub the shit out of your skin, lather your hair with some fancy shampoo then rinse it off. Once you go through your full routine, you’re happy to change into pajamas and slip into the comfortable bed. You don’t even mind that the comforter is a little damp in various places.

* You don’t stir when the door opens and closes, but you do when the mattress dips. Shifting slightly, you assume it’s just Erwin, falling back into your usual routine by slipping under the covers with you.

 As soon as he lays behind you, though, you know it isn’t Erwin. You recognize that weight, that warmth, that smell, and you are very awake very quickly. 

 “M-Mike?”

 All he offers is a little, “Mm,” to confirm.

 You chew on the inside of your cheek, confused and clueless as to what you’re supposed to do. 

 “Are you drunk again?”

 “No. Little buzzed.”

 Why is he here, then? You want to ask—What is he doing? Why isn’t he with Rhi?

 You start to turn to face him but you're stopped when Mike sets a hand on your back. It's oddly firm, keeping you in place as he grunts, "No, don't."

 "What?" 

 "Don't turn around." His voice is hushed and choppy, like he's gritting out every syllable. 

 "Mike?"

 "I have shit I wanna say to you, and I won't be able to if you're lookin' at me."

 You have no idea how to respond to that, don't know if this is going to be a positive one-sided conversation where Mike confesses deep feelings while actually sober, or if he'll just unload all the baggage you've given him. Either way, you wish you could see his face. Something about having him laying behind you, close enough to feel his body heat, has you feeling very uneasy. 

 But, you nod, "Okay," trying to put on a brave face that he refuses to look at. 

 For a while, he just breathes. You assume it’s because he’s gathering his thoughts or maybe working up the courage to say something, but the suspense is making you shiver under your blankets. You have that terrible feeling in the pit of your stomach, the mix of anticipation and regret you get on the way up to the first drop of a rollercoaster. 

 “Why have you been lying to me?”

 And, there’s that drop. 

 You swallow. “I haven’t been.”

 “Bullshit.”

 “Mike, I haven’t been!” You try to turn again, but his large hand is still right in the middle of your back. 

 “Do you think I’m fucking stupid?” His fingers close around the material of your shirt. You feel it tighten at your chest, making it hard to breathe—harder to breathe. “How are you gonna tell me that right after sleeping with him?” 

 You open your mouth to argue, realize you can’t make a case for yourself, and when you snap your jaw shut again, the sound of your teeth clacking seems to echo in your head.

 Yesterday, you would have been able to talk to him about this and be honest when telling him you weren’t fucking his best friend. Now, though…

 God, that had been such a bad decision. Why hadn’t you just listened to Erwin? Why can’t you fucking listen to anyone?

 “Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Mike mutters. His grip loosens, but you can still feel a light tug at your shirt, the movement of fingers, and you think he might be rubbing over the material he’s still holding. “Pretty sure all of us could hear you guys goin’ at it, so… Thanks for that.”

 You take a deep breath in, squeezing your eyes shut because it sinks in that this is not going to be nice conversation. This isn’t going to result in the two of you apologizing and making love confessions to each other. 

 “I… I’m sorry.”

 Now, you’re grateful for not being able to see his face. You wouldn’t be able to stand looking at him right now, not when you know his expression will be grim—probably angry. 

 “I can’t really do anything with sorry,” Mike sighs. His hand drops from your back, but you make no move to turn over. 

 Your heart is like a hummingbird’s, beating frantically in your chest as that ache rises inside of you again, making your throat constrict and your eyes burn. 

 “Why’d you invite Rhi tonight?” You ask, hoping your sniffle isn’t too noticeable.

 “Why does it matter?”

 You suppose it doesn’t, but you still want to know, “Is it to get back at me, or is it because you’re actually into her?”

 Mike scoffs. “Not that it’s any of your business, but do you think I’d be in your room at three in the fucking morning if I was into her?”

 It’s probably the closest he’ll get to admitting it, but it’s all you need to hear. He’s been going out of his way to hurt you. At least any pain you’ve caused him wasn’t intentional. Until tonight, that is, and even then, you didn’t fuck Erwin to hurt him; you did it to help yourself. 

 Pressing your tongue to the roof of your mouth, you hold back tears and mumble a thick, “Just wanted to know.”

 “Want to make sure I’m still interested? That I’ll keep waiting for you to fucking realize—”

 “I have—” You turn over roughly, pinning Mike’s hand under your ribs as you glare at him, but he manages to put more distance between the two of you when he yanks his arm back and sits up.

 “I can’t do this anymore,” he tells you, and you think you hear his voice waver for a second.  

 The orange light pouring in from the bathroom is the only way you can tell his eyes are wide—worried—and it chills all the blood in your body.

 “Wh-what d’you mean?” 

 “I mean, I can’t fucking do this anymore,” he repeats a little louder, drawing it out like it’ll help you understand. “I cannot deal with you anymore. I can’t keep feeling this way, okay?”

 “Mike…”

 “No,” he stops you, acts like he has something else lined up but bites his tongue and sighs. He sits cross-legged on the bed now, hangs his head as he speaks calmly, “This semester has fucking sucked. I am angry all the time. I can’t focus in class, and I can’t play lacrosse without getting in trouble, and I can’t fuck anyone else without feeling bad—I can’t fucking do anything without thinking of you, and I’m—” he looks at the wall and shakes his head. “I’m exhausted.”

 “I am too,” you tell him, voice cracking as that lump in your throat grows and bubbles, pushing hot tears from your eyes that you quickly wipe away. “Mike, I am too, so can we just—”

 “No,” he cuts you off again. “Whatever it is you’re about to say—move on, pretend it didn’t happen, pick up where we left off, whatever… the answer is no.”

 He seems like he already has his mind made up, came into the room with a plan, and he isn’t gonna let you talk him out of it. 

 So, you stay as silent as you can, sniffing and swallowing and letting the comforter catch every teardrop. 

 “I have been… Right in front of you this whole time. I made myself completely available for a year—was at your beck and fucking call. I was—I mean—I was good to you, right?” He sounds incredulous, like he can barely believe he’s asking. 

 “Yeah,” you manage. “Yeah, you were.”

 “Then, why…? Zeke? And, now Erwin?”

 “Do you want me to try to explain, or do you just wanna rant for a while?”

 Mike glances at you, looks surprised that you’d give him the option. 

 “Honestly, I don’t really wanna hear it. You’ve more than proved your point.”

 Indignation swirls in your stomach alongside your nausea, and you press, “My point being?”

 “That I’m not good enough.”

 Oh, god. No, no, no. You could understand him being angry. You’re okay with him being angry, it’s fine. But, this—this feeling of inferiority? That is so much worse. It makes you sick. This is the last thing you’d ever want Mike to feel. It’s the last thing he should feel because it’s false. He has no reason—he’s too good and too kind and too warm. He’s like… He’s fucking sunshine. He can light up a room, and he doesn’t even know it.

 “Mike, n-no,” your voice breaks, making you sound like a wounded animal. “You are so, so good. You are more than enough, I promise.”

 He snorts in a self-deprecating manner. “Then, why—”

 “Because I’m not good enough. I fucked this up. This is my fault, and I can own that as long as you know that there is absolutely no—nothing wrong with you,” the last part comes out as a squeak as you try not to hyperventilate and cry the way your body is urging you to. Not yet. 

 Mike nods a few times. You can see his mouth moving from the side like he’s biting his lip or sucking his teeth until he agrees, “Yeah,” then adds a quiet, “Whatever you say, babe,” that makes you want to throw up.

 Mike scoots to the edge of the bed and stands. You assume he’s about to leave, let you be alone with your thoughts, so when he rounds the corner to get to your side, you sit up a little straighter. 

 Half of his face is illuminated, casting shadows under his eyes, highlighting the bruise on his neck that Rhi probably left, but your gaze is trained on his as he leans down to you. A finger hooks under your chin, and Mike tilts your face at an angle, kissing you so softly that it’s painful. 

 His lips are warm and familiar, everything you’ve been craving as they cover yours. There’s no tongue, no force, just light pressure as he inhales through his nose.

 You know what this is, what he’s doing, but you can’t prepare yourself because there’s still that tiny string of hope you’re grappling for. He just needs a break. You just need to give him space. That’s all—

 “I love you,” Mike murmurs. His voice is low and honest and slices you open. “I love you so fucking much it hurts, and I just—” He brushes a thumb over your lower lip as he pulls away, and it takes everything in you not to grab his hand and beg him to stay. “It’s like I hate you too.”

 You pull away to wipe your face with the blanket. There’s so much you want to say but have no idea how to articulate it, so all you can do is stare at Mike with wide, watery eyes. He… hates you. He hates you. 

 Straightening, Mike’s expression is suddenly nonchalant, like he just flipped a switch in his brain. “I’m not exactly the social butterfly I used to be, but I wanna have fun my last semester of undergrad—make up for the time I lost fucking brooding over you, so—”

 “I’ll stop going to the Pike house,” you tell him quietly. It’s easier to make the decision yourself rather than have to hear it from his mouth: Don’t come around anymore. I don’t want to see you. 

 “Cool. And, if you, like, see me on campus or anything—”

 You cough, maybe gag, you can’t really tell at this point because wow, this just keeps getting worse. 

 “I won’t bother you.”

 “Cool.” He bends to press another much more patronizing kiss to the crown of your head, then starts walking toward the door. “I’m just gonna try to move on, you know? Start fresh. And, you should do the same. Shouldn’t be too hard for you.” 

 You don’t watch him leave, just listen for the door to click shut behind him before you crawl out of bed, turn the lights on, and start packing your things. 

 You and Hitch drove together, but you have no doubt that she'll be able to get a ride with Nile, and with that thought, you’re out of the ranch house and on the road just as the first rays of the morning sun start shining over the horizon.

 *

 It’s surprisingly easy for Mike to slip back into his old, obnoxious persona, and the remainder of the school year is spent partying, fucking, and cramming for tests he should have studied for weeks in advance.

 But, life is short, and he’s done beating himself up over stupid shit.

 Most of his PKA brothers are happy to have him “back”, and the pledges get the chance to see this of him, but there are times when Mike catches Erwin or Nile shaking their heads at him. He doesn’t mind much. They can both go fuck themselves for all he cares. 

 True to your word, you don’t show your face around the house. There were a few weeks after the holiday get-together where Erwin would disappear for a few hours at a time and come back either tired or angry, sometimes a combination of the two. 

 He attempted to bring you up in a conversation a total of one time, right in the middle of a party where Mike had been eyeing up a sorority girl. He brushed his friend off, easily telling Erwin, “Don’t fuckin’ talk to me about her,” through the crooked grin he was flashing at the little blond across the room. 

 Erwin didn’t bother after that, obviously deeming Mike a lost cause. 

 Mike knows better, though. He isn’t lost anymore. In fact, he’s found himself all over again.

 Every once in a while, he’ll catch a glimpse of you on campus, but whenever that happens, he just turns around and takes a different route to wherever he’s going. He doesn’t want to give you any reason to think you can talk to him—doesn’t want to give you the chance.

 He’s spent too much of his time hung up on you, too much time pining and hurting, and that hasn’t disappeared entirely. Mike can still clearly remember the way you looked at him the last night the two of you spoke, the way your tears twinkled in the dim light. He remembers how strangled you sounded while speaking, remembers the way your shoulders shook as you fought your emotions, remembers the way your lips trembled against his. 

 It wasn’t very satisfying. Mike left the ranch house the following morning sporting a few bruises on the outside thanks to Rhi as well as a few bruises on the inside thanks to you. 

 That entire night had been a clusterfuck—between Maddie and Marie storming off to cry then the little stunt he pulled by inviting Rhi, it had been much too dramatic for a gathering of that size. Mike experienced a wide variety of emotions that night, but the one that stands out the most is the searing rage that threatened to burn him from the inside, the red the clouded his vision as soon as he heard you moan Erwin’s name through the wall. 

 Mike had already been toying with the idea of severing all ties with you, but that’s what pushed him over the edge, watching you put on your little show when Rhi walked in only to turn around and have a grand fucking time with his best friend. 

 It needed to happen. Mike needed to free himself of you. It feels good. Mostly. There are still some days he comes close to giving in, just picking up his phone and calling you, but he resists, and he’s better for it. 

 He gets through his classes, does well on his finals after actually putting in the time to prepare for them, and by the time Mike graduates, he’s already been accepted to the graduate program of his choice and has an internship lined up. The tension between him and Erwin has faded for the most part, which is great since he’s going to grad school in the same area up north. Things look… promising—something he didn’t think possible without you by his side, something he didn’t want to be possible without you by his side. 

 But, now, here he is, unpacking his new apartment with the help of Scout who insists on sniffing absolutely everything. He’s halfway across the country from his parents, away from all he’s ever known, and Mike couldn’t be more thrilled about it. 

 He can go full days without sparing you a thought now, and he hopes—he prays—that one day he’ll think of you for the last time in his life. 

[ next ]

[fighterkimburgess]

58 + Rheese

58. You did spend lot of quality time in my bathroom for what it’s worth.

--

If you asked Sarah how this had happened, she couldn't have told you. She and Connor had bonded over parental disappointments, and gone out for drinks. Which led to seafood. Which led to more drinks. Which led to making out on Sarah's couch, until Connor realised that maybe eating shellfish out of season was a bad idea and spending his night stuck in her bathroom, a bottle of gatorade beside him.

It was a marginally better reaction to the first time she'd kissed someone than the time she kissed Amy Turner in seventh grade, who'd then gone around the school proclaiming "SARAH REESE IS A LESBIAN". Thirteen year olds didn't get bisexuality, evidently. At least this time the humiliation was between the two of them and not the entirety of West Hartford Middle School.

"Sarah, I'm really sorry about last night. I didn't mean for that to happen." Connor was holding his head as he came out of the bathroom, and Sarah held out a glass of water for him.

"It's fine, honestly. You did spend a lot of quality time in my bathroom, for what it's worth."

"That wasn't exactly the b room I was hoping to spend time in. Look, you can completely say no because nursing me through food poisoning isn't exactly something sexy. But I like you. And before the clams decided to yell at me, I wanted to say that I thought last night could have counted as a first date. When I'm a hundred percent can we have a do-over? Without the shellfish?" He had a bashful smile on his face, and it was all Sarah could do not to grin. She'd honestly believed her crush was unrequited, but it wasn't. And he'd just proven it wasn't.

"That sounds really nice. Are you going to make it home? Or do you want to spend the day here while I'm in work? It'll save a cab cleaning fee."

He nodded gratefully at that, squeezing her fingers as she left for her shift. And that night when she got home he had dinner waiting for her, eating hot and sour soup while she had her usual tofu fried rice, curled up on the couch together.

[starlight-writes-stuff]

hi again omg! im getting into the feral boys and i was hoping you could do some headcanons for them with a reader that has their period (but could you make it gender neutral if possible?) - ⚙️ anon

⚙️ anon ! hi ! i can absolutely do this , im sorry it took a long time . i genuinely ended up LOVING these , and i hope you do too ! 

AYO LOOK AT THESE : reader who gets a period , mentions of cramps , usage of tylenol / painkillers of that sort , very very very fluffy feral boys content . i luv them .

reblogs are always appreciated ! <3

dream : 

would be incredibly worried :(

and unbelievably empathetic

he’s such a good fkn person in general ugh

“i don't know how it feels but i would imagine its … not good”

he would just want to keep you comfortable

“stay in bed, baby, i’ll bring [whatever] to you”

would go on pad/tampon runs for you

and wouldn’t be a pussy about it

“what size ? how heavy is your flow ?”

would call you while he was in the aisle to double check

and would get more than one box

“i know it fluctuates”

while he was out he would pick up some little gifts for you

just things to keep you comfortable

a blanket because “it looked soft”

some of your favorite chocolate

“did you know that chocolate produces endorphins ? which can help with cramps ?”

a little teddy bear

and would pick up some junk food for you

he’d move his stream to comfort you all night

“can i hold you ? will you still be comfortable ?”

would end up laying your head in his lap and running his hands through your hair

he’d do small , soothing actions until you fell asleep

and would be so still while you napped on him

clay would die if he woke you up

you’re his number one priority , and you need your rest

george :

sweet gogs would be . so concerned .

“... are you alright , my love ?”

would get pouty because you were irritated 

but would understand

he tries his best to help you in anyway possible

brings you water and tylenol

and would make you a snack to go with it

“you have to take it with food so your body can process it , darling .”

purchases a heating pack to keep at his house

and genuinely just tries to keep you as comfortable as possible

picks you up bridal style

to transfer you from couch to bed

and would be SO upset when you whimpered in pain

“did i hurt you , baby ? are you okay ?”

you’d try to explain that it wasn’t him at all

just your body working against you

but would insist on nursing you 

going as far to lift your water cup to your lips for you

“wanna make sure you’re taken care of , sweet thing .”

would bring you desserts and comfort foods

and would eat half

gogy would try to get you to nap

“your body is working so hard ! you need rest !”

and would be elATED when you fell asleep tucked against him

he’d run a hand up and down your back while you slept

trying to comfort you even in unconsciousness

sapnap :

trying his best

bless his little heart

would be incredibly concerned but very scared

not necessarily of you

but of you

wouldn't want to make you mad in any way , shape , or form

is worried that you’ll rip him to shreds

but is also v soft for you

doesn’t like seeing his s/o in pain :(

so he’d be very careful with you

won't give up his cuddles tho

would jump 10 feet into the air when you said “ow!” after he wrapped an arm around your lower tummy

apologizes incessantly

feels bad for the next week

would make you tea and warm drinks to help

and would diy a heat pack out of rice and a sock 😭

nick would NOT want to leave you alone

so he’d try to cook

and would do pretty well !!

would make you mac and cheese from the box

but it was so good

and would feed you oreos

he’d make you both milkshakes, too

karl : 

nurse karl™ is on the case

he would be the BEST at taking care of you

would have an entire period kit at his place

and would carry tampons/pads in a bag in his backpack just in case

karl knows you inside and out 

and has taken notes on what to do while you're on your cycle

stocks up on all your comfort foods the week before

makes sure you have plenty of supplies

he would make a movie lineup for the two of you to watch together

all cheesy rom coms and disney flicks

he’d sing all the songs to you

would make jokes about being your prince charming

karl would try to make you smile in any way he could

he would make you a comfy spot on the couch

with lots of pillows and blankets

“is it okay if i hold you ?”

would be s o gentle

barely touching you

“baby , i'm not made of glass”

“but i don't want to hurt you !”

would end up spooning

and karl would smother you with kisses

“gotta kiss it better >:(“

he’d keep you clothed in his big hoodies and sweatpants

and would make sure that you always had a warm towel when you got out of the shower

karl would run all the errands you usually did

and would bring flowers back from the store

quackity :

loml big q

god he would be so so so tender with u

he would go completley soft

because seeing you in pain just rips his heart to shreds

has the whole phantom pain thing

because yall are so fkn close w each other

wouldn’t leave you alone like ,,, ever

is so worried that you’re going to lose too much blood

you’ve tried to explain that your body regulates it to an extent

but he doesn’t care

he’d call your mom to ask for tips

and would follow all of them to a t , PLUS everything that he’d picked up on already

would make sure to keep you hydrated

gets gatorade “because you need electrolytes !”

he’d run you warm showers

and get you clean , soft clothes

would give you back and neck rubs to help with your muscles

alex would lay in bed with you all day 

he’d love when you napped on his chest

would set timers on his phone for giving you ibuprofen

“every six hours , my love .”

alex would 100% get midol and be so proud that he found it

finally makes a trip to the store on like ,,,,,, day 3/4

would take a picture the pads/tampons you use so he gets the correct ones

and would buy multiple boxes so you’d never run out

is incredibly comforting

does small tasks for you

brushes your hair and tries his best to braid it back

would make you foods that are high in iron

“you need it , baby , it’s for your blood”

but would follow it up with hot chocolates for the both of you

he’d sing softly to you until you fell asleep in his arms

and would press little kisses to your head

[peachdoxie]

So I decided to go to Walmart today (my first mistake) because I've absolutely been craving white cheddar cheese rice cakes and both Meijer and Kroger are sold out after I bought them all last week, and of course walking an hour both ways in the relatively cool Ohio summer of 77°F and twice that in humidity is the most logical choice. I check to make sure it's not going to rain on the The Weather Channel app, then grab my unintentionally-diluted gatorade and Cubs hat with the pride flag on it and head out.

Now, when I planned to leave it was mostly cloudy and I thought that would be fine, but the sun decided to show its sexy face and I spent most of the 2.6 mile walk limping in the sunshine since my right foot decided it was going to yell at me for putting weight on it, but I persevered and made it to Wallyworld in more or less one piece, albeit exhausted and with a headache building. I get half way to the grocery section before remembering I need a cart (I also want to buy flour) and wander my way to the front, then back to the grocery aisles. I eventually find the location where ideally there should be dozens of bags of white cheddar cheese rice cakes for me to purchase, but, alas—they have all the flavors but white cheddar cheese, and so I have to settle for white cheddar cheese poppéd cörn triangles instead. With my disappointing spoils of war, I hobble to the self-checkout and legally purchase my corn triangles and flour.

At this point I'm really feeling like crap and am totally dreading heading back out in the heat, so I plunk myself and my mostly-empty cart down at the Walmart Sbubby (eet freesh) and play around on my phone, hoping that taking a break off my feet in the aircon will help me stop feeling like crap. After sitting for a bit, I get up, push my cart to the exit, stare outside with a mounting sense of dread, return the cart, and then walk back inside to the Sbubby, wondering how long I can loiter before they kick me out, when my body finally decides to inform me that holy shit you need some more calories girl. Hmm, I think. Maybe this is why I feel like crap.

The problem is that I don't really want Subway—I've mostly forgotten/ignored there's an entire Walmart behind me, as any sane person should—because it's Subway, and also because I was hoping to stop by the Italian restaurant on the way home and get some spaghetti, since eating a Subway sandwich will make me not hungry for the very excellent spaghetti that I don't get the chance to eat since I only go to this area of town when I can justify walking an hour for something, which apparently includes white cheddar cheese rice cakes but not spaghetti. I'm wondering how much the Subway Sandwich Artist™ will judge me if I just get a six inch with nothing but cheese on it when my eyes fall upon what I instantly know will be my savior: a soft pretzel covered in butter and salt.

"One salted pretzel," I say, somehow coherent, "and a regular fountain drink" because I'd also like some soda because why not. The Subway Sandwich Artist™ obligingly gives me my pretzel, which I legally purchase along with the soda. I sit down with my ambrosia and nectar and immediately regret my decision: Hellworld's attempt to cool its firey pits is super loud and I am quickly descending into the sensory overload layer of hell. Luckily, this Subway has a back area where it is 2% quieter into which I can retreat. I do, I wipe off half the salt because I'm not a masochist, and begin consuming the pretzel.

While this is happening, I'm updating my friends on discord as to my situation, and I recall the time my sister passed out while on a hike in Albania because she got overheated and threw off her salt balance, and I think, hmm, this is probably what's happening to me. And sure enough, after eating the pretzel and downing the soda has made me feel better! Yay! I mean, I still feel like crap, but crap that can at least attempt to make the walk home. It's like an hour after I arrived to Walmart at this point and 45 minutes of that has been me in this Subway. I throw out my trash, pack up my things, and head to the exit.

It is now pouring down rain.

Curse you, The Weather Channel! I shake my fist at the sky. Curse you for lying to me! I trusted you! My tears rival the rain.

I am now faced with walking home in the pouring down rain, thus missing out on my spaghetti, or remaining in the Walmart Subway for even more time, despite my health bar being rapidly drained by proximity to the megacorporation's holy temple. I check the The Weather Channel app to see what they say, knowing they are untrustworthy, and see that it's supposed to rain for the next few hours.

Fuck it. I'm going to go buy a rain poncho to protect my flour and just sacrifice my shoes to the puddle gods since the sidewalks here range from "flat" to "expert mountain climbers only" and I know my feet will be soaked within five seconds of leaving the building. First, though, I want to use the toilet, but the one at the front is being cleaned, so I head to the back. Granted, I had to go there anyway since I figured the sporting goods area is the most likely to have a rain poncho.

I cannot find the rain poncho. I've been in this Walmart for over an hour and a half at this point.

I go back to the front in the off chance the seasonal picnic aisles might have one, cringe at the bountiful supply of American Patriotic Equipment, and eventually give up and ask the greeter lady where I can find a rain poncho. Aisle L24, aka one of the camping aisles in the back of the store. I've already searched there but apparently cannot read, because I find them this time, begrudgingly grab the blue since they don't make pink in the adult size, and return, once more, to the front of the store, where I legally purchase the poncho.

In the ten minutes it took me to decide to find the rain poncho and buy it, it's stopped raining and the sun is shining because of course it is.

[simonalkenmayer]

Hey Simon, my 21st birthday is coming up and since I cant go out I'm going to buy a bunch of 50ml bottles to try a whole bunch of different things. I like wine, and peanut butter whisky and do NOT like jack daniels🤢. What should I get so I can experience the most flavors of the most alcohols and also do you have an eggnog recipe?

1. Not a good idea to mix liquors. Humans have difficulty with that. I’d rather you buy two or three smaller bottles of good spirits to get the best

2. I would like you to first order a bottle of NAC or N Acetyl Cysteine on Amazon, and a bottle of blueberry juice. For the week before your birthday, I want you to take one capsule every day along with food and blueberries. This will fortify your liver and make it strong. I’d be even happier if you had liver before hand.

3. Have Gatorade, water, and either V8 or Clamato on hand. If you can manage pickles, cheese, and plain rice, I’ll be even happier.

4. If these demands are met, then you may try different types of alcohols, but I would be very cautious and try only a little of each, until you find one you like. For every shot or drink, drink a small cup of water.

5. I will give you a list of the alcohols I think everyone should know, but first, education (Spirits are distilled. Meaning something is fermented, and then it is boiled. The alcohol vapor rises up into the still and is collected. Then it is altered in many ways, and turned into types of spirits. What a liquor is, depends on what is fermented, how much the pure alcohol has been diluted, what additives are put in, and how it is stored. These four things affect the taste and make each one unique. In the case of some alcohols, even the thing burned to fuel the still matters)

Vodka—true vodka is made from fermented potatoes, and you can buy potato vodka and see what you think. It mixes well with fruit and savory alike. However, most vodka is made with grain, and so is the least interesting alcohol if bought cheap. It’s almost entirely good for nothing except mixing with other things to get “rekt”. This is also a spirit that is good for buying flavored versions of, for making cocktails. I like the marshmallow vodka as an additive to White Russians. I also use a few different ones for other drinks. I also make my own bacon vodka for Bloody Mary’s. Vodka is vaguely seeet and has the classic “this is alcohol” taste.

Gin—gin is essentially vodka that has been laced with many botanicals while passing through the still. The vapor moves through mesh layers on which the botanicals lay. The most dominant flavor is usually juniper berry, which has a lime and pine sort of taste. Gins can be simple or deeply complex. One of my favorites is St George’s distillery “botanivore” which contains 44 botanicals or Silent Pool. This goes very well with tonic water and lime, or sweet vermouth.

Rum— rum is made from cane sugar and has deep caramel and molasses notes. It can be bought quite god damn strong. I have some I use for flambé. It goes well with other seeet things like coke or root beer. But it can be drunk on its own.

Whiskey/whisky/bourbon/scotch—the several involved parties might try to hang me for limping these together as the profiles can be so different, but since the process is similar, I shall. All are made from some ratio of grains, distilled, and then stored in barrels. In the case of bourbon, it is a specific ratio of rye to grain or it cannot be called bourbon, and it must be stored in a brand new white oak barrel that has been toasted on the inside by fire. That is what gives it its color. Scotch used to have thistle in it. Hardly ever does now. Many are very “peated” or smoky and leathery. This comes from peat bricks used to fuel the stills. Jack Daniels is a bourbon, and is on the cheaper end. Most whiskey and bourbon tends to be sweet, caramel, and possibly smoky or hot (burning in the throat which can be good or ba. A “smooth” whiskey makes the burn less pronounced.) These go very well with orange flavors, apple, mint, and so on. Scotch ought to be drunk alone. It’s complexity demands it.

Brandy/cognac—brandy is made from distilling wine. cognac is a sort of high grade version of this. It can be sweet but dry and smooth in the mouth. Also best alone but can be turned into cocktails.

Tequila—made from distilling the blue agave plant. Sweet, an interesting smoky quality that is difficult to define. Goes very well with citrus, particularly lime, and salt. I put it in my fajitas. It has many types, and they range in strength and flavors.

There are other things like cremes: Irish creme, Creme de menthe creme de cacao Kahlúa, and so forth. There’s many many types of wine, liqueur additives with flavor profiles. A cocktail is just a mix of a main spirit, liqueurs, flavoring elements like zest or juice, and served in some special way.

I can give recommendations on all the alcohols here if you like. If I’ve forgotten anything, I’ll come back and edit. 

[sickviking-fr]

This is a long one, fellows. Buckle the fuck up.

Y'all know I only started this job two weeks ago and was all excited but it all went to shit day one. Well I got an offer from Walmart to start at a dollar more and I took it.

So last night was my last night at this grocery chain and I guess the universe knew it. The manager was happy for me so that was good, he'd been super nice and supportive for the few days since I gave him my resignation so I came in deciding I was going to give my all and do the best I could. I shot down four energy drinks because I knew it was going to only be me and one other on the shift and I was determined.

Those energy drinks took an hour to kick in but once they had I was WIRED and Manager appreciated it. About half an hour into the shift, Manager pulls me and the other guy (we will call him Jack for no reason) to the side, clearly high on caffeine himself, to give us the low down. He gives us a huge list of stuff to do and says he's sorry, its ordering night and he's all alone so he can't help us. And like, I get it, shit is the opposite of streamlined and efficient here, as you all know from my bitching, he's got a lot of work ahead of him. Jack and I have to do the work of 6 people and Manager has to do the work of three.

"Time is our enemy tonight, guys, we don't have a minute to spare standing around talking. lets get to it!" he finishes his speech.

Me, being out of my gourd on energy drinks, yell "NO BOSS! WE CAN'T ALLOW TIME TO BE THE ENEMY! LETS GO BOYS, WE'RE MAKING TIME OUR BITCH TONIGHT!" Manager punches me in the shoulder and says "Heck yeah, thats the attitude I wanna hear, why the fuck are you leaving me?!" and with that he's gone.

Now. When I said that, Time looked over at God and said "Hold my flower. No, hold my fucking flower! Who is making who their bitch? We'll see about that!" And God sayeth unto Time "Kick his ass babe, I got yo flower."

So my first task was to stock Gatorade and the energy drinks which I did in record time, taking only a half hour to do about two hours of work, working three pallets and condensing them down to one AND wrapping it up so Manager can swing by with the forklift and haul it off no questions asked. I'm feeling invincible. Next, me and Jack have to go stock water. He's exhausted, was up all day and feeling sluggish so not a whole lot of help tbh. Thats okay I'm running on four energy drinks and the high of imagining the boss begging me to stay, I've got this!

There's several pallets of various types of water container on the floor to be organized and stocked, and I'm on it like a fly on dogshit. In only fifteen minutes I put up a full pallet worth of gallons (Probably about 60-70 gallon jugs) before Time makes her move.

I don't know where Jack is, I'd sent him to move another pallet a while ago and he's not back yet. I move on to the 2.5 gallon jugs with spigots (Different brand but this same jug tbh) get about twenty up, only have four or five more that can fit on the shelf. Both hands are full of these heavy ass jugs, I lift one up onto the shelf and the spigot comes off. It just pops the fuck off. I drop the second in surprise and its spigot pops off. There's water pouring everywhere, I'm now soaked and panicking trying to gather up these jugs and get them turned in a way so they aren't pouring water everywhere and I am swearing profusely this whole time.

The wooden shelf is soaked, I'm treading water and Jack comes around the corner to see if I'm okay, sees me juggling water and starts laughing his ass off. We double team taking down all the water I just put up so I can mop the floor and the shelf. It takes the two of us over half an hour to dry everything and get the water back on the shelf.

Jack starts in on the 2 gallon bottles while I finish cleaning up. As I come back from throwing the broken containers in Claims, I see Manager has arrived with a fresh 5.5 foot high pallet of these 2 gallon waters (Its also vital to note that these come wrapped in plastic in packs of 6, which we are separating to sell individually), both are laughing, Jack is facing away from me doubled over with laughter.

"All I hear" He says "Is suddenly 'SHIT...SHIT SHIT! FUCK-SHIT FUCK!' and then just 'squeak squeak squeak'. His shoes sounded like Spongebobs boots!!" And at this point I realize my shoes are squeaking in the water but their shoes are not (I still do not know why...) As soon as Manager hears my squeaking shoes coming towards them, he also becomes consumed by giggles. Ha-ha, okay y'all shut up so we can carry on. I'm still trying to be impressive here! But I guess we are opening the water packs too slowly for Manager because he takes his special plastic cutting cutter and starts slicing open packs so we can just grab the jugs and throw them up.

EXCEPT HE'S NOT PAYING FUCKING ATTENTION! He cuts this one pack thats on the edge of the stack, three of the waters immediately start to fall over dragging the whole pack with it and now six, two gallon jugs come crashing onto my foot and also suddenly I'm wet again. Manager doesn't realize it hit my foot, but I shout and he says "Don't worry, its plastic they wont break." This phrase gets repeated ad nauseum the rest of the night to mock him.

"Well that would be great except they all fucking exploded!" he just looked at me stupid, then started swearing too. My foots fine, thanks for asking. Actually its not, my ankle is killing me as I'm writing this but whatever.

All six jugs broke open at the bottom seam and are now spewing fresh spring water onto my newly mopped floor, under the pallet and soaking into my shoes. Again. I'm running around trying to gather as much of these jugs as I can as fast as I can and get them to the sink. Again. Meanwhile my shoes are squeaking anew. Again. Jack cannot stay standing, what between laughing at Manager for busting open six gallons, repeating "It'S pLaStIc! iT wOnT bReAk!" and laughing at my squeaking footsteps running all around the two of them.

Manager has us leave the spilled water and stock, then when we are done he moves the pallet and sends the janitor over with the zamboni to clean up the water while sending us to fill up a display of cases of 24 bottled water other-where. Jack is now awake and still melting into fits of giggles every few minutes, and with his newfound energy he's tossing the cases up onto the display and then punching them into place instead of just putting them there. Toss a case, punch-punch-punch, flex, repeat. (Did I mention Jack is 18? What is it with teen boys constantly wanting to show off? Like bro who are you showing off to? Its literally just me and Manager here.) I keep telling him to knock it off but eventually, you guessed it, he pops a couple bottles.

Its already the four hour mark by the time we clean up all the water and get the rest of the packs all on the display. Smooth sailing from here on out, yeah? We're done with water, everything that needs to be on a shelf is on a shelf. It has to be easy from here. We think so anyway. It can't possibly get worse, we've still got shit to do! Innocently, we go to lunch and I chug down another energy drink. Okay so we are done stocking, its now time to face the shelves(AKA make them look nice). Manager sends me and Jack to the opposite ends of one isle, Jack arranging pickles and vinegar and I'm freshening up condiments. Suddenly I hear Jack yelling and cursing.

For several days, theres been a mystery bottle of vinegar by the Huntz that no one knows where it came from but also no one has bothered messing with. We've just been nudging it to look nice lined up with everything else and if someone buys it good if not, well it seems happy there. Its kinda shaped like this but plastic and not quite a gallon. It's filled full to the lid.

Jack decides to remove it today. He grabs it, lifts it about three inches, and the neck comes off. Just comes the fuck off. Its a perfectly clean separation at that seam where the neck connects to the body. The entire contents are now soaking into Jacks clothes from mid-chest to his shoes and puddled all over the floor. I rush over to see that he's okay and then go to get the mop for him. I can smell the vinegar from four isles away. It takes nearly another thirty minutes for him to get that properly cleaned up and then he has to take a break to change into his spare shirt because the smell is giving him a headache.

By the time he comes back, I've finished that isle and moved on to the cereal + juice isle and the store is now open. I tell him that he must have felt left out that Manager and I both made bigger messes than him with the water so he had to one-up us. This seems to make him feel better. Jack starts working juice while I'm tidying up the snacks and gummy candies. An older couple come up to me to ask about Rice Krispy Treats. I don't know where they are other than the ones I'm holding so I go to ask Jack. Poor Jack. I call out to him as he's kneeling in front of orange juice with both arms shoulder deep in the shelf and as he looks at me, for some fucking reason he squeezes his arms together in a hugging motion around maybe 8 jugs of juice.

Several fall into his lap and a customer must have gotten thirsty yesterday because someone took the cap off one jug and just left it there. Jack is now soaked chin to toes in orange juice. There is a looooot of swearing as I run over to check on him and then run off to get the mop and bucket from the back.

At some point the janitor had taken the mop from where we left it by vinegar and used it to mop up milk that the Dairy folks had spilled (so the bad luck wasn't just towards our crew, Time was taking her frustrations out on everyone). Anyway, the bucket is full of maybe four gallons of milk water and also the vinegar from earlier so it stinks but I don't have time to put fresh water in it because there are customers in the store now and the juice is a major slip hazard.

I'm pushing the bucket through the isles and I run over a drain like I do every day and thousands before me have done, except the drain cover decides TODAY IS THE DAY, NOW IS MY TIME. It kamikaze pops off and the bucket wheel goes straight in the hole, tipping the bucket over and spilling four gallons of stanky milk water every-fucking-where. Also, apparently this POS building wasn't built so that the floor sloped towards drains so the water is just flowing further and further out in every direction. Now I'm panicking trying to push as much of this water into the drain asap so I can get the bucket over to Jack so he can mop up the OJ. And I see the older couple are still waiting, toe tapping and pointing at their watches as soon as they see me. And then get all pissy that we didn't have any smaller packs of Rice Krispy Treats in yet.

Jack fucks off to the bathroom to dry as much as he can of himself while I do my best to hunt down the Janitor to send him and the Zamboni down juice, vinegar and the main pathway where the vinegar-milk-water spilled and is still stinking up the joint. Jack didn't come back for probably 40 minutes, I was honestly surprised he came back at all, I didn't think he was going to.

Manager has no idea any of this shit has happened because he's been darting off everywhere like a squirrel on coke doing his own thing. He's got the rest of those 2 gallon bottles from earlier on the fork lift and has us follow him to the frozen section. He wants us to add what's left to a display over there where we are selling the full 6-pack cases. He drops off the pallet and is gone before we can say anything. Jack, understandably, is beside himself pissed and starts literally throwing the water up onto the display and then punching them into position. Like, he's full force punching these things like gym equipment and chanting "It'S! pLaStIc! iT! wOnT! bReAk!". And of course, he pops two bottles. We still have 2 more hours of our shift left, plus 2 hours of mandatory overtime.

THANKFULLY, once we cleaned up that water the rest of the shift was uneventful, but it took forever because we were exhausted physically and mentally and pissed

[abyssaldyke]

Ollie really is the best person in the world and they make me feel loved every day but here are some highlights:

- I once had a very heavy box accidentally delivered to my old address and they went and got it without me even asking so I wouldn't have to Lyft out there after work

- we used to go to the movies a lot but we cant now bc of the pandemic so they decked out our apartment like a movie theater and bought a dvd of my favorite old rom com and made movie theater nachos and snacks and everything and I came home from a long day and just cried on the floor bc i was so surprised and happy.

-our apartment is on the fifth floor and our building has an awful cage elevator that won't go if the door is open and someone left it open on the sixth floor so when they got home before me, they climbed 6 flights of stairs to close the door so I would have the elevator when I got home.

-I got The Flu in college (before we were dating) and couldn't really eat or sit up for like 4 days and they exhausted their meal plan to bring me plain white rice and saltines and Gatorade and sat next to my bed to read to me even though I was like, delirious and stupid contagious

- last night, while I was drinking like a monster, they said 'I'm going to say I told you so when you get sick later' and then when I was sick later NOT ONLY did they not say I told you so but they PICKED UP my dumbass deadweight drunk body (I'm skinny but sort of tall and p much all limbs), pulled the covers back, picked me up AGAIN and tucked me in because I was shivering

I dont know guys, I've been obsessed with love my entire life but I never thought I'd find it or that it would feel like this. Every time I look at them I'm like it's you. There you are. I can do anything as long as you're there.

[befitnesshub1]

How Long Does It Take To Get Food Poisoning?

You get food poisoning from poisoned or polluted food eating or drinking with pathogenic viruses, bacteria, parasites, poisonous chemicals or toxins.  It doesn’t surely come from rotten or spoiled food.  It might come from the delicious food that was just improperly handled or cooked.

What is food poisoning?

We think of food poisoning or illness; it’s a broad term that includes more than 250 kinds of disease-causing bacteria, germs, including Salmonella, E. coli and rotavirus. Those germs can cause diverse degrees of nausea, diarrhea and vomiting, depending on several factors.

Infectious germs or their toxins can spoil food at any point of processing. The food is contaminated by bacteria that can also occur at home if food is incorrectly controlled or cooked.

What are the symptoms of food poisoning?

When you consume contaminated food and first experience symptoms, it could be anywhere from under one hour to one week.  Food poisoning symptoms depends upon the cause of the contamination.

As an example, symptoms of a bacterial disease linked to undercooked pork (Yersiniosis), can appear between four to seven days after eating the contaminated food.

Food poisoning symptoms vary that usually arise within one to two days of eating spoiled food. However, they may start between a few hours and several weeks later with the source of infection.

This mainly includes one or more of the following signs and symptoms:

Feeling Sick (Nausea)

Abdominal pain and cramps

Vomiting

High fever

Lack of energy and weakness

Loss of taste

Diarrhea

These sickness symptoms will last for a few days, and you will make a full recovery. Food poisoning usually affects the digestive tract and throat.

Types of food poisoning

Escherichia coli (E. coli):

E.coli is the leading cause of bacterial spread on beef. It poisoned the meat with feces during slaughter and spread mainly by undercooked beef. Other causes include unpasteurized milk and apple cider, alfalfa sprouts, and polluted water.

Enteritis:

Intestinal infection (enteritis) is an extremely common illness. You’ll need to avoid food for a while and start taking plenty of fluids. In most cases, the illness will pass in one to three weeks. If the symptoms come on suddenly, you should contact your doctor immediately.

Clostridium botulinum:

Botulinum spread on homemade foods with low acidity, improperly managed commercial foods, smoked or salted fish, potatoes baked in aluminum foil, and other foods kept at warm temperatures for too long. Clostridium perfringens commonly spread when serving dishes like soups and sauces don’t keep hot enough or chilled too slowly.

Anaphylactic Shock:

If you’re allergic to a particular food, you may develop a rough reaction after eating that food. Sometimes, you won’t even notice the problem to consider as mild food poisoning symptoms. You will have to tell that you’re allergic to any particular food before eating to avoid getting an attack.

You can minimize your exposure by staying away from that food as much as possible. That’s better than suffering an embarrassing reaction right in front of everyone at the party.

Related Article: Causes of Depression | Symptoms | Treatment and More

How long does food poisoning last?

As we told, more than 250 types of food poisoning. While the symptoms may be similar, the length of time it takes to get better differs. Depending on: what substance caused the contamination and how much of it you ingested?

Food poisoning recovery time depends on many factors. These factors include the amount of food ingested, your general health, severity of the problem, and your symptoms’ seriousness.

If you suffer only minor symptoms, you may be able to recover in a day or two. If you have severe symptoms, you may need a week or two. Sometimes, people recover within a day or two without needing medical attention.

You may be out of work for a couple of days. You may experience some discomfort after the initial signs of food poisoning. But, over time, you should be back to your old self.

However, in some cases where the illness is severe enough, the symptoms don’t go away for a few days. The best thing how to know if you have food poisoning, is to consult your doctor for more advice. Some medicines can help you recover faster.

How to prevent food poisoning?

You can avoid food poisoning by following the basics of food safety in your home:

Be sure to protect yourself if you will drink any water from rivers, streams or lakes.

Make habit to wash your hands after treating raw meats, using the toilet, or being around ill people.

Wash fruit and vegetables, even if you’re going to uncover them.

Don’t share a plate of uncooked meat, poultry, and fish with different foods.

Use separate cutting boards and knives for meat, poultry, and eggs.

Don’t use food that has passed its expiry date.

A bacterium multiplies fast between the temperatures of 40 ͦF (4 ͦC) and 140 ͦF (60 ͦC). So, you need to preserve food above or below that temperature range.

Use a meat thermometer for cooking. Meat, fish, and poultry should be cooked to at least the recommended temperature.

After marinating meat, please don’t use the remaining marinade without boiling it.

Refrigerate or freeze perishable food inside at least two hours. Frozen food should be melted in the microwave, or under hot water.

Keep yourself, hydrated! And, remember to throw away leftover food.

What does food poisoning feel like?

Viral gastroenteritis is also known as a stomach bug. It spread through viruses that most frequently include norovirus, rotavirus, and adenovirus.

The norovirus affects around 21 million cases of the stomach bug in the USA each year.  Other viruses such as astroviruses may also cause this condition. Stomach bug caused by a rotavirus or norovirus disease is extremely contagious.

In the United States, the infection most commonly occurs between October and April.  The most common way to spread this by knives or an infected food handler. You can also get the virus from contact with something somebody infected has touched that contains raw or contaminated meat, poultry, milk, or egg yolks having faeces, saliva, or vomit substance with the virus in it.

Diarrhea, intestinal cramps, nausea and vomiting, are the main symptoms of stomach bug.

Do you get a fever with food poisoning?

Viral or bacterial food poisoning can seldom cause fever. It’s best to focus on balance and high energy diet.  That would be rice, bread, rice pudding, applesauce, toast, bananas and chicken noodle soup.

You want to drink a lot of fluids, rather than just water.  Water is isotonic. Suppose you’re ill and you are losing plenty of water or having sweating and get a fever with food poisoning.

In that case, the best supplement is not exactly water.  It really should be a not-isotonic fluid.  That would be something with sugar, salt or electrolytes inside, such as Gatorade, broth, ginger ale or juice.  When you consume that sort of fluid, you usually keep it in your body to recover from fever. It’s less likely just to run off or go straight to your kidneys where you’ll urinate it out, or you have diarrhea.

It would be best if you stayed away from food that is harder to your digestive tract to digest, such as greasy, fried or spicy foods.