I'm not

Dialogue

“I know people use this word way too loosely now a days, but I fucking love you, okay? I don’t want to lose you…”

4

i hate myself part 1 (part 2) (part 3) (part 4)

  • Lena: well I'm 26, a Scorpio, I like long walks on the beach and crying, and I'm a bottom. So jot that down.
  • Kara:
  • Lena:
  • Kara:
  • Lena:
  • Kara: Lena, this is an interview about your new product not a dating profile
  • Lena(crying): It's because I'm a Luthor isn't it

anonymous asked:

Hi so I absolutely adore the fics you've posted so far for bmc. It really brings to light the emotions of the characters and it's so well done. If it grabs your fancy, would you consider writing one where Jeremy becomes so delirious (from getting sick or a headache from the squip or something) that he spills all the self-deprecating things the squip told him to say to Michael? It would make my world if that existed, especially in your style of writing. <3

“Is Jeremy here today?” 

“Jeremy’s always Heere.” Michael says automatically without looking up from his phone. Where he is currently texting Jeremy. He’s almost forgotten that there are people actually around him when someone hits him across the back of his head. “Ow what the hell, Rich!

“Don’t even try, you brought that on yourself,” Rich says and the lisp does nothing to diminish the glare he’s got fixed on Michael. 

“If anything you brought that pun on yourself!” When Rich looks like he’s going to hit Michael again, or possibly punch him in the throat for better reach, Michael decides the safest thing is probably to just tell him what’s up. “Alright, yeah no, Jeremy stayed home today. I texted him this morning and apparently he’s sick. I’m gonna go see if he needs anything after school so if there’s anything you wanna tell him I can pass the message along.”

“Nah, I was just wondering since I hadn’t seen him even though I’d seen you.” When Michael only looks confused Rich continues, “Dude. You’re pretty much attached at the hip as much as two people who aren’t actually attached at the hip can be.” 

“You’re over exaggerating.”

“Oh yeah? Is that right?” 

“Yeah that’s right,” Michael says, looking down at his phone again. 

“Just out of curiosity,” Rich says with a suspicious air of innocence, “who’s that you’ve been texting?” 

“It’s-”

“This entire time since I came up to you-”

“I don’t appreciate-”

“and probably the entire day since you found out he won’t be he- at school?”

“Well I can’t just ignore him when he’s sick and miserable now can I?” 

Rich’s responding smirk tells him he definitely just rose to a very obvious bait and probably should have just kept his mouth shut. 


The thing is, Jeremy doesn’t do well when he’s sick. To start it off, he has no self-awareness or any clue at what warrants a sick day at home so it’s a miracle he actually didn’t come to school only to have Michael drag his sniffling and swaying ass home. Michael just assumes that Mr. Heere most likely was awake and forced Jeremy back to bed before taking off to his brand new job. 

Michael doesn’t bother with ringing the doorbell when he gets to Jeremy’s house. He knows the key is under the doormat out front, despite how many times he’s told Jeremy it’s the dumbest place in the world to put the house key (”Don’t say I didn’t warn you when you literally get murdered”, “Michael nobody even gets robbed this part of town!”, “Well there’s a first for everything!”). He unlocks the door, grumbling about safety and mostly lack thereof the entire time before he makes his way up the stairs to Jeremy’s bedroom. 

He hear the coughing before he’s even half-way up. He knocks on the door and shouts a quick “Don’t be naked,” purely out of curtesy, before barging in. 

“Hey Mich-” Jeremy’s raspy voice is cut-off by wet sounding coughs that tear through his body and forces him to turn over on his side so that he won’t choke. 

“Holy shit dude,” Michael says eloquently as he sits down on the bed next to Jeremy’s form. “I got you some cough drops,” he pauses as Jeremy’s cough takes over the conversation yet again, “but I honestly don’t think any cough drops in the world is gonna do shit for you right now.” 

“Ugh…” Jeremy looks up at Michael with wet eyes, “dad got me somethin’” he says and makes a gesture in the general direction of his bedside table where a bottle of something Michael presumes is medicine is residing. “It’s meant to like,” he makes a questionable gesture with his hand, “loosen up the crap in my throat, so that it doesn’t get stuck. Which is great and all but in turn means tha I’m coughing up slime every minute.” 

“Gross.”

“Tell me about it.” Jeremy says with a sigh and rolls onto his back again. Michael reaches out and puts his hand on Jeremy’s sweaty forehead, just to check. He nearly snatches his hand back after half a second and the only thing that stops him is that Jeremy had closed his eyes the second Michael touched him and is now letting out a sigh as if he’s actually remembering to relax for the first time today. 

“Dude, you’re burning up.” He feel slightly concerned now. Jeremy had told him he was sick but this is… a lot more than he had let on while texting. 

“Mm-hm…” Jeremy says, his eyes are still closed and there’s no actual indication that he’s heard Michael at all. Michael strokes his hand across Jeremy’s forehead and ignores the disgusting feeling of sweat clinging to it. It must feel nice to get something cool touching his hot skin. 

“Hey Jeremy,” he says as he strokes his thumb up the bridge of Jeremy’s nose, “I’m gonna go get some damp towels so you can cool down a bit, yeah?” and so he can get rid of some of that gross-ass sweat currently covering Jeremy’s body as far as he can see. Jeremy seems to have tossed his blanket practically across the bedroom at some point to alleviate some of the heat but even in nothing but a tank-top and boxers he looks like he’s going to boil from the inside-out. When he comes back with four smaller towels and a bowl of cold water Jeremy hasn’t opened his eyes and Michael thinks he might’ve fallen asleep. He arranges one of the towels over Jeremy’s eyes and the latter lets out a sigh of immense relief. “Does your head hurt, Jer?”

“Why’re you being so nice…” Jeremy’s voice is weak and it sounds like it hurts to talk. Michael frowns at the words. 

“When am I ever mean to you?” He asks with a scoff.

“You’re just always nice even after what I did.” Michael has to swallow down an automatic feeling of dread. Any reminder of the Squip usually has that affect. 

“We’re past that, Jeremy.” He keeps his voice quiet so he still sounds calm and not at all like his heart is beating out of his chest.

“I still hear him sometimes.” The words are so simple, and said so softly but it still seems like Jeremy is screeching, as though he’s calling out for help. 

“What do you mean?” He desperately tries to keep his voice calm as he sits down next to Jeremy, he wishes he hadn’t put a towel over half of Jeremy’s face now, wishes he could see what’s going on with Jeremy’s facial expression.

“I keep trying to-” Jeremy has to pause for a second as his voice breaks, “I just want to be better than what he said I was.” 

“Jeremy whatever he said it-” Michael’s words are interrupted by Jeremy who seemingly isn’t done. 

“He would always tell me how terrible I was, how I was gross and how everyone else thought so too…” Michael grabs Jeremy’s hand and squeezes it, unsure what else to do. “Fuck he was right. He was always right.” 

“That’s not true…” Michael whispers shifting so that he’s sitting closer to Jeremy, still squeezing his hand tight. 

“I still hear him, and- and sometimes I forget I don’t have to listen anymore!” Jeremy’s voice is shaky and Michael knows he’s crying, “I keep forgetting I don’t have to say it too.”  

“What do you mean?” Michael doesn’t want to know, but if Jeremy needs to talk he’ll listen, he’ll always listen. 

“He’d make me say things-things about myself…” comes the delayed response and this time Michael listens to the urge that’s telling him to remove the towel from Jeremy’s eyes, his headache be damned. He won’t let Jeremy get so caught up in his own thoughts that he doesn’t remember he isn’t alone. Jeremy blinks his eyes open, and Michael notices right away that he was right. Jeremy’s eyes are red and the second the towel is off his eyes start to water and he looks so frightened and so small that Michael wants nothing more than to take all of the bad, horrible things the Squip told him and make them disappear. He knows he can’t though, the best he can do is just sit there, and hold Jeremy’s hand. 

“You don’t have to tell me,” he says softly and brings Jeremy’s hand up to his lips, pressing a kiss to the sweaty palm, “but I’m here, okay? I’m right here, and I’m listening.” Michael can’t be sure if his words do any good as Jeremy only seems to cry harder, but Jeremy needs to know he’s not alone. It takes a few minutes but after a while Jeremy seems to calm down enough to continue.

“Everything about me makes me wanna die.” Jeremy sniffs and fresh tears spring to his eyes and all Michael can do is gather Jeremy up in his arms and hold him close. “He’d make me repeat that…” Jeremy continues, “and I didn’t- I felt it. He just took things I already thought and felt and made me- I want him gone!” Michael’s heart breaks as Jeremy’s ramble ends in a wail, “I want him gone I want him- he’s still- Michael!” Jeremy sobs and grabs at the front of Michael’s shirt. 

“I’m here. It’s gonna be okay. He can’t do shit anymore. He-it’s just a voice and it’s awful and I hate it but that’s all it is. it can’t do shit to you anymore.” Even as he says it he isn’t sure if it’s true. With Jeremy still sobbing in his arms, he feels powerless and wonders silently if the Squip isn’t already doing shit, or if he’s just done enough damage to last Jeremy a lifetime. 

He pushes the thought away and squeezes Jeremy tighter.