#im lucky that my parents can drop off the spare tomorrow

[accidental-giant]

sometimes adult life is difficult because there are so many small things which, on their own would not nearly be as much of an issue but, in their abundance, become an virtual incoming avalanche 

and sometimes it’s because your fucking car key breaks

[jean-does-not-have-a-horseface]

Can I request how did I get so lucky with Levi? Please and thank you!😁

I really wrote hurt/comfort just like that once again i-

I really really loved writing this one, it's very different from a lot of things I've written before, I hope you like it

Warnings: none really, two Kuchels tho but I made sure you won't mix them up

Pairing: Levi/ reader

Tags: Modern au, hurt/comfort, daddy Levi strikes again

Caramel Apple

Levi's foot blocks the sleek vandyke brown door from opening more than a few inches. Your eyes flicker between him and in the interior, begging to get a glimpse of the very reason you find yourself at his door again but his mascular form doesn't allow you to see much, only the shadow of his black leather couch and a few grey and copper tiles from the fireplace. It only makes you sigh in frustration as your anger starts to boil inside of you.

You've always been adamant about never entering his home again and even though you're never about to break the rules you've set for yourself tonight feels like the last straw of your sanity has been pulled. Levi is purposely not offering you to get inside, counting on the fact that you won't ask for permission to enter anyways.

"Levi, seriously, I just want to see Kuchel." Your eyes glint with anger as you speak to him in a steady tone, trying to cover your anger in such a fake way.

His choice of words though never seems to mind your tormenting patience as he lifts the words slip off of the tip of his tongue "None can do for this weekend, I'm sorry!"

"What?" Your eyes widen, your hands slightly shake "Levi I haven't seen my daughter in a week!"

It's only natural of you to demand to see your little girl. For a week now Levi has been calling you back to back, every single night, announcing to you that Kuchel wanted to stay with him, that she misses him and that she won't stop crying at the hearing of having to part ways with her father. And even if the slight rejection of your motherhood by the five year old hurt you to the core you knew much better than to try and part the two. Your break up had indeed tortured her pour little soul; she was lost between having to stay at two different houses she was forced to adjust to two separate lifestyles and her attachment to her after was getting the best of her. She didn't even want to go to school if it wasn't Levi driving her there. You could only comply to her wishes.

"It's not my fault you have dates to go to." He never gives you a chance to reply though as his eyes bore into yours with the faintest tint of mischief. "I have the weekend off so I'm taking Kuchel to Disneyland."

Between wondering whether this was too far fetched and thinking about what clothes to pack for Kuchel, Levi felt panicked. His stoic mask didn't let him show any regards towards your barely visible face, but inside his heart sank to his stomach, leaving him feel numb.

It was the first time in the two years that you had broken up that he had ever done something so selfish to you. So far he had been the perfect co parent, picking up Kuchel almost everyday to drop her at her pre school, always making sure that your days with your daughter were arranged evenly. Overall there has been nothing you could negatively accuse him for and he's so proud of the profile he has kept.

In the last month he's been feeling so conflicted internally that it's become unbearable. He's been through miserable, never ending nights feeling alone and abandoned. You wouldn't bring yourself to understand, he knows that very well, so telling you is off the table. Though there nights he wants you and his daughter by his side, there are mornings he wants to wake up and see the two of you cuddled on the other side of the bed just like once before.

"I'm really going to have to ask you to leave." The sound of his tongue clicking is louder than the words that leave his mouth. As his eyes stare into yours with an unreadable feeling plastered on them you can feel that anger, the one that has been boiling in your stomach for so long, staring to eat away your insides. "Kuchel is asleep and I don't want her sleep disturbe-"

Your jaw drops and your words refuse to let go off your tongue. Any hopes of trying to remain civil tonight have been thrown out of the window because you're simply not having it. There's not much you can do from standing behind his front door though. No begging will ever even convince him to let down his guard and he'd be right. That was part of the reason you wouldn't enter his house amymore nonetheless.

"I miss my baby Levi, you're being so unfair!Doesn't Kou miss me?"

Levi flinches at the nickname. There's a restrain in his heart that won't allow him to speak of anyone in nicknames ever again and you're at fault, because every little thing in his life screams your fucking name and he despises it. Nowadays it's only him and Kuchel that seem to be on the same side.

"Her name is Kuchel."

He's so cynical that you might let out that salty tear -the one your left eye has tried so hard to push back- run down your cheek and stain your face. You can only endure so much refusal to see your baby's face. Her tiny voice in nowhere to be heard, her angelic face nowhere to be seen and you want to breakdown.

Why should Levi care, you're still puzzled as to why. The way you've treated him lately has been so brutal and he doesn't deserve it, you know he doesn't although your demons don't take anyone and anything into consideration. The small bleak of the door is symbolic to you, it's a gesture that he doesn't want to let you in, but he allows you to have a small leak of his grayscale paradise.

You shouldn't be in a place to beg with him since you are in the wrong. Kuchel isn't a doll that the two of you should play with, she's a lovely little girl with very real emotions who's trying to comprehend yours and Levi's bullshit. Your bullshit.

If Levi had it his way, you knew he'd keep Kuchel as far from you as he could and Kuchel would agree without a second thought.

Between his loud growls and your sobbing imitations you manage to wake Kuchel up for her peaceful slumber. Her little raven head peaks from the corner of the leather couch, hair sleek despite her sleeping position. It makes you groan how much she looks like him at every aspect of her life, personality and appearance alike. It is as if he had birthed her out of his womb, not you.

Maybe that is part of the reason you feel so strained away.

Or maybe it iss her unforgiving gaze that is identical to her father's.

She doesn't exactly sparkle when she sees you but you attribute that to her only having just woken up. A little fist rubs on her closed eye lid, sweeping a few eyelashes away. Levi makes sure to pick them up from her cheek when he takes her in his arms.

"Hey mommy!"

Her enthusiasm seems to grow on her as her eyes gradually open. You hadn't seen her face in a long, agonising week, her sight made you week to your knees.

"Hey baby, ready to go home?" You beam, pushing the tears away.

"No!" She pouts "Daddy will take me to Rapunzel's castle tomorrow!"

To her it was such a big deal. The promise to see her favorite princess and her prince, to fight the most evil Gothel with her squeeky little voice, it all excited her way too much. Although you're in no place to ruin their fun -Levi has the right to spend his time with Kuchel however he pleases- but you have to admit it hurts. A lot.

Wanting to go to Disneyland was your most vivid childhood dream. The scenery had always fascinated you, there were so many things you had always wanted to do. And Levi had promised, while he was driving you to the hospital once your water had broke, that he'd take you along with Kuckel.

You open your mouth to speak but words never really come out as you take your defeat in. Your heart's sinking, your knees want to give up on supporting your whole weight but just as you're about to collapse two familiar voices catch your attention.

"Oi runts, what's with the commotion?"

"Kenny! Be a little kinder, hey love!"

Your face suddenly drops lower than it's ever possible. In panic you wonder if staying still will guard you from the sights of Kenny and Kuchel, but you're absurdly reminded that could never be the case.

"Im here to pick Kou up." You whisper, ashamed to look any of the Ackermans in their eyes. They really had you cornered like a rat now.

"Ah, aren't you guys going to Disneyland this weekend?" Kuchel smiles as she greets you with eagerness.

At this point Levi is forced to open the door. It's only rude to keep his family standing in the hallway of his apartment complex because you're in the midst of having a small fight. You're not sure if you want to get in, though, he never allows you to.

"It's only me and Kuchel, mom. What made you think (y/n) was coming?"

Kenny huffs at the words, clicking his tongue in annoyance. "Trouble in paradise?" He rightfully earns a death glare from his sister. His legs shot up on the coffee table, catching Levi's attention. Your little girl mumbles something about the table turning dirty once again and Levi agrees, sparing her the tiniest of smugs.

"Look (y/n)," the ravenette's attention turns to you once again "I think you should go, were flying early tomorrow, I promise I'll make up for this whole week someway."

With gloom in your eyes you turn on your feet, ready to storm off of the hallway, and down to the elevator. If you're not wanted here then it's fine. With a kiss on little Kuchel's forehead, you tuck her strands behind her ear and whisper a soft goodnight to her. Levi's door closes too fast, too sharp, too humiliating to your person and at this, you can't help but finally breakdown. Your legs don't even drag you to the end of his hallway. With your back against the nearest wall you collapse, hit tears making their appearance on the corners of your eyes.

"Don't be a little bitch Levi, your brat is not a doll you two pass to eachother, in case ya didn't notice." Inside the apartment Kenny's words sting like a thousand yellowjackets launching onto Levi's skin, but only because the old man speaks the truth. He keeps the arrogant comment about the language that should be used around his daughter to himself, he's eager to listen what his mother had to say on the situation.

"I still don't even know the reason you're not together anymore."

He doesn't either. He can't bring himself to remember the exact reason you had fallen apart or why you had acted to cold towards him two months ago. In a haze, that's probably only for the worst he pops Kuchel into Kenny's uninviting arms and picks up a shift space with his matching.

If he's surprised by your vulnerable position on the hallway he doesn't ever show. His twitching eyebrows betrays the tint of worry in his expression but your trembling lip doesn't allow you to utter words just yet. It'd only when he swoops to your level, knees touching the cold tiles of the floor while his eyes look directly in your face. His calloused hand comes to bed your cheek in order to provide you some sort of comfort for your exhausted head and to wipe a salty tear with his thumb. He isn't ever really soft like that, but you come to believe it's been so long without him that you've forgotten about his compassionate side.

"How did I get so lucky to be loved by someone like you, and how was I so stupid to make us go through this?"

Your words are hurting you more than you want to admit to. It's unfair, how you want to come undone, how time and space cease to exist in the moment, how you don't feel like you can keep your heart's insides to yourself.

"Im so sorry I left that morning but I was so, so afraid." You continue.

It was no secret. That particular night you had shared two months ago, wrapped in his sheets like old times had sparked so many flames or reconciliation between the two of you. Be it that it was you who showed up at his door or him that took you in, be it that you did this because you missed every tiny aspect of him that it was overwhelming. You can't even pinpoint a reason as to why the two of you were so natural together. But you have thrown your only chance away. And he won't even let you in his home.

"I was too, beats me as to what I would have done if I was in your place." His voice is tinted in melancholy but paradoxically his steel orbs never once fall from yours. "But I've spent so much time being mad at you that I can't even remember why im feeling this way in the first place."

Your hand shoots to his chest, only to grab at his plain gray crewneck in an attempt to pull him closer, close enough that your foreheads collide. Onyx shaggy strands engulf your vision as your heavy breaths mingle and your thoughts are finally able to come through mouth.

"Who are you and what have you done to the Levi I know." A muffled giggle comes out of your cries and a blink-and-you'll-miss-it smug appears on Levi's face. It catches you by surprise, the way his face lots up from only just a second is an image you've tried you convince yourself to forget but your mind always finds a way to come back to it.

His hand comes to rest on your nape, trapping the hair underneath his grip as he leans to give a kiss to your forehead.

"We'll talk about everything with caramel poisoned apples with Kuchel alright?" Your eyes lit up at his statement, glistening tears threatening to fall once again from your eyes. "Tch, don't look at me like that of course I bought three tickets."

You miss the way his eyes widened as you engulf him tightly in your arms, closing the painful space that had been separating you up until a few seconds ago. Maybe you won't kiss just yet, this isn't a lust filled moment. It's a moment of putting a new brick at that wall of trust you had wrecked a few years ago. With that inevitable fate and love that brought you back to eachother no matter what and a lot of patience the two of you are going to make it work. No excuses this time.

Was this short, was this enough? I honestly don't know I enjoyed this one because for once I figured the ending as I went along. Reading your guys comments makes me feel really good so if you want to drop a comment (or a request) don't be shy. Thanks for reading, it means a lot💞

[drkcnry67]

dont let me fall (day 1)

AN: @obxmermaid​ here is day 1: Ice skating!

Fandom Universe: Harry Potter

pairing: Draco Malfoy x reader

tags: having a quiet moment on the ice, fighting to have a forbidden school romance, Draco meeting the reader to the ice rink in a secluded part of school grounds on break during the day and the 2 of them use their school shoes to skate on the ice

25 days of hogwarts list

this was your 5th year at hogwarts, this year was one of great importance, for this was the year of you starting to tutor. you had tutored partially this last year, but it was a strange start to your tutoring career, for you got assigned to tutor one student in particular. 

Draco Malfoy, from a pureblood family his father a death eater and a follower of Voldemort. you were a strong opponent in dueling and now in quidditch. for you made quidditch captain within your first few games. 

He was also unfortunately a quidditch captain except he played for Slytherin. the captains tent for Ravenclaw (your house) was shared with Slytherin (Draco’s house) sadly though this was only for show. 

as always you sent a fire message to Draco asking to meet in the captains tent to discuss the practice schedule, but also the tutoring schedule it was the most private place away from prying eyes to meet. 

For during the summer in the last few days before the train boarded to go to hogwarts you and Draco bumped into each other. It went something like this:

Draco: YN, how are you?

Yn: Draco, I'm good, yourself!?

You ask casually as though waiting for a miracle. 

Draco: hiding from my family. 

YN: well maybe i can help you hide a bit. 

Draco: what did you have in mind?

YN: we could hide amongst the muggles. 

Draco: you mean hide in plain sight, live like normal people for a few days.

YN: exactly besides then we could actually be a normal couple for once in our almost year together!

Draco: lets go... 

you both went to olivanders and begged him to let you both use his flue travel. he said he would keep your secrets and you would both be safe from the authorities.  that was the start of your first few days as a normal muggle couple. 

after that the start of your 5th year together, you were 16. your 17th birthday would come at the end of your 5th year. draco’s birthday was a month and a bit before yours. 

this made you feel like a normal person the day that Draco first approached you not for quidditch but for tutoring. this was the time when you would now start to build something other than a rivalry with Draco. 

Draco and you had waited a month and a bit before you would meet in the astronomy tower for the tutoring schedule. to have the first tutoring session, plus you would get to greet each other properly... if no one else was around. 

you and draco had your first kiss that final time in the quidditch tent at the end of your 4th year. it was your magical time, it was your own happy ever after. or at least the start of it anyway. 

Draco had slipped you a note on the split off to the dorms. you opened it when you got to your dorm. you made sure no one was around first before opening it. 

Draco’s note: meet me in the tent during spare... i have something to show you... love Draco...

you smiled hiding the note hearing voices approaching. one of them Hermione, the other Harry. both looking at you smiling like a idiot. 

Harry: are you alright YN?

YN: of course why wouldnt i be...

Hermione: why are you smiling ear to ear and why are you giggling.

you had to come up with something believable.

YN: i was talking with the constellations on the ceiling that leo was telling some really good jokes. made me smile. 

Hermione came to sit beside you.

Hermione: your parents again. 

YN: yes they insist on showing me suitor after suitor when i dont want any of those pompus annoying dirtbags, i want someone real and honest and happy to be with me for me. i just want someone of my choosing, not of my parents choice.

you take a breath as a few tears fall.

YN: i just want to be with someone i love and that loves me in return. 

Hermione: dont worry girl, you will find your special person. 

Harry: of course you will trust me its never an easy thing talking to the opposite sex especially if they arent your friend. you just have to make sure that you keep it either within our house or a wizard elsewhere.  

YN: i know but what if my future lies outside of what im supposed to do.  

Hermione: well then we will cross that bridge when we come to it.

You nod as you realize that there is a few moments till charms. then its your spare where Draco wants to meet to give you a surprise. you would be livid if the next hour didnt go by quickly. 

you kept your cool, you didnt show any excitement. though it didnt help that you could feel Draco’s eyes on you the entire time. you were in your own state of mind. you were just thinking about how this entire time your destiny has been right in front of you. 

professor flitwick: alright class who would like to come up here and show us a new charm they learned over the summer! 

You looked back slightly “stretching” your neck Draco nodded slightly to you. you stood up and spoke.

YN: ill demonstrate one professor, but ill need a volunteer... 

meanwhile draco was looking a little bored, he was keeping up his image. 

Professor flitwick: how bout you Mr. Malfoy you look like your kind of bored. come on down, front and center. 

the class watched as draco made his way from his seat to stand before the class. the rivalry between the 2 of you was legendary, well at least among hogwarts anyway. 

Draco: YN

YN: draco

Draco: let me guess the little girl learned some new spells over the summer...lets see this little magic trick...

You pulled out your wand and stood ready. you stare directly at Draco holding his gaze as you speak the spell. 

YN: SILENCIO

the spell was cast. Flitwick was impressed.

Flitwick: impressive YN, very impressive, keep it up and you could possibly take over my class some time. well, Mr Malfoy how do you feel?

Draco’s mouth was now moving but no sound was coming out. the class laughed as the bell rang, people began to get up and gather their stuff, Flitwick waved his wand allowing Draco to speak again. 

Flitwick: don't forget students to speak to YN if you need any help with your studies and work on your wrist movements. there will be a physical spell test before the holiday break.  see you all tomorrow!

the class dismissed, you walked out of the room with Harry, Hermione and Ron. splitting off to go on your spare. which meant dropping your books off at the dorm and then getting ready to meet Draco.  you heard a bunch of merry excitement...

you looked out your window and see a fresh blanket of snow coating the grounds. you decided that your house colors and some winter shoes/jacket would be an appropriate attire. 

you head off for a walk on the grounds in the snow. sticking to the path you take a spin in the snow falling snow. straightening up for the final approach to the tent. you wave your hand silently spelling the tent, to prevent anyone who might hear anything said. 

you enter the tent. Draco’s head turns toward you.

Draco: your early...

YN: no im right on time. sorry about charms class. i was really trying to demonstrate a simple spell that wouldnt get me into deep trouble. i know now that i am happiest when im with you, or reading your little notes, or happily walking through the streets as a normal couple. i know that my future is lucky to have you in it. 

Draco: how could you think that i would be mad over you demonstrating that spell to the class. i was amazed when you cast that. you continue to surprise me every day, and as long as i live i will not let anyone tear us apart. even if i have to give up a part of myself so we can be together. 

YN: now whats your surprise. ive been itching to know. 

Draco: use the same spell thats on the tent on us. we dont want to be heard. 

you do so, Draco takes your hand and smiles as you both walk outside to see the ground now covered in snow. but one thing remained to be seen. an ice rink...

Draco: watch this ive been practicing... call this a demonstration of what you had me study. 

Draco stands beside you wand at the ready pointing it at the snow in front of you. 

Draco: Glacius!

in a few short seconds a rink of ice had been formed before your eyes. you smiled a few moments before moving to hug Draco. 

YN: this is amazing. well done on that spell. but we dont have any skates... 

Draco: we dont need them. come on we just have to smile as we walk gently across the ice. 

Draco takes your hand and both of you walk onto the ice. Your shoes slide a bit, but between the laughter and slipping you got lost in Draco's eyes, that made you loose your balance. You knocked you both into the snow.

The laughter became softer as the gaze you both held now calm expressions of love expressed through soft kisses.

The both of you got up brushed the snow off each other and then heard the curfew warning bell.

Walking halfway back to the school made things easier to say goodbye but it also made things easier to keep up appearances.

One more kiss before you parted ways. You went back inside and Draco waited a full 5 minutes before he followed.

You make it back to your shared dorm and you go sit on the bed, Hermione come in short while later.

Hermione: how was your walk?

Yn: it was amazing! For the fresh snowfall it is really nice out. I went to the quidditch tent and checked the schedule apparently ravenclaw is versing slytherin tomorrow. That means the press will want more draco/ YN rivalry.

Hermione: well let's rest up, it's a new day tomorrow.

Yn: ya it is. Night cuz!

With that you both went to sleep. Draco had made it back to his dorm room and sent u a little text message saying "good night my sweet love." before he too drifted off.

*to be continued*

[sagemoderocklee]

∞ 🌻

as per my last fill of these prompts, im super sorry i left this sitting in my inbox for a million years :( this one isn’t tied to any greater idea i’ve been mulling over, but it did end up longer than anticipated so i’m breaking it up into two parts because it’s taken me much longer than i expected! i’ll try to get the next part out tomorrow! and i’ll probably polish it up and post it to ao3 since it’s so long lol

originally for:  PUT A “∞” IN MY ASK BOX AND I’LL SHUFFLE MY MUSIC PLAYER AND GIVE YOU MY FAVORITE LYRIC FROM THE SONG THAT COMES UP.

[ao3 // kofi]

---

song: Sunlight by Hozierlyrics: At last can grant a name/’til buried in a burning flame/is love in its decisive pain, oh my/sunlight, sunlight, sunlight

---

There it was again: warmth suffusing him; an awareness of his heart beating, rapid and uncontained, a wild wind in his chest; his eyes rooted to the shape of the Sun, human and solid, standing before him as a man--not divine, yet wholly and inexplicably empyrean. 

It was impious. Not that Gaara was particularly concerned with the superfluous rules of Suna’s religions, but he’d also never had reason before to compare the mundane to the divine. 

Considering Rock Lee mundane felt like more of an insult to the gods than comparing one of their own to Rock Lee. 

He shook the thought--and all other’s relating to Rock Lee and their accompanied feelings--away, forcing his heart to return to its normal rhythm with practiced ease. “Rock Lee.” He greeted Lee with a faint smile and a small nod, exactly the same way he’d done every visit for the last five years. Lee was not the Sun, he was just a man--an extraordinary man, certainly, but a man. 

“Kazekage-sama.” Lee’s radiant smile insisted that Gaara’s summation of Lee was inaccurate--or at the very least lacking. “It is good to see you. I did not expect to see you today.” 

“I had some free time.” He hadn’t. Though he was never behind on work, there was always work to do. He’d simply decided to skip it. 

“That is excellent news!” Lee’s round eyes closed, his smile broad with his joy. 

“I take it your journey was easy,” Gaara said, ignoring Lee’s smile and the warmth that refused to leave his chest. “You made good time.” 

“I did!” Lee agreed with a laugh. “There was a sandstorm just past the boarder, but I had no trouble after that. I was hoping to beat my record, but I think I missed it by a hair.” 

“You came close,” Gaara confirmed. “If you’d been twenty minutes earlier.”

Lee punched the air, his mouth a determined line. “Then I shall just beat it on my return journey!” 

“No self-inflicted punishment for not making it here earlier?” 

Lee shook his head, dropping his fist in defeat. “Unfortunately there is no time. Well, I suppose there is--but I would much rather spend it with you!” 

There it was again, haunting him, hunting him. That feeling bit at his heels, chasing him down, wearing him out. He wanted to curl a fist into the fabric of his robes and yank his wretched heart from his chest. 

“How long before you have to leave?” he asked instead. 

“I only have until tomorrow.” Lee’s shoulders had dropped until he looked like a wilting flower, despondent in the midst of a dry season, wanting for rain where there was none. 

“Perhaps you can spare more time on your return to Konoha,” Gaara offered. 

“Are you sure?” Lee asked, perking up. 

“You’re always welcome here.” They’d done this countless times. Gaara could almost predict this particular exchange. Lee never wanted to impose, never wanted to assume, but he always wanted to stay for as long as Gaara would have him. 

Gaara would have kept him forever if he could. 

The thought--sudden and complete clarity--lodged itself somewhere at the front of his mind, shimmering its truth in front of Gaara, like glass casting rainbows upon a wall. 

He kept his expression neutral, flat, quiet, but the realization had inspired a tempest in his mind. 

“Do you want to grab lunch?” Lee asked, unaware of Gaara’s turmoil, and continuing to cast radiant smile after radiant smile in Gaara’s direction--mocking him, tormenting him, beckoning him.

“I promised Temari I’d eat lunch at home today.” 

Like clockwork, Lee’s smile dimmed, like clouds rolling by to obscure the sun. “Oh, of course. I would hate to interrupt family time.” 

“You know you’re welcome to join us. Temari would be insulted if you didn’t stop by, and Ruri will be happy to see you.” 

Lee’s smile returned, as if on cue, and his eyes filled with tears. “Ruri-chan! I could not leave without saying hello to her! Is she still teething?” 

“Most of her teeth have come in by now,” Gaara said. “There are still some issues, but Temari and Shikamaru manage it well.” 

“I would expect nothing less from them!” Lee declared. “Ruri-chan is lucky to have such devoted parents! And such caring uncles,” he added, glancing to Gaara. “Is Kankurou-san around?” 

Gaara snorted, shaking his head with amusement. “He should be--along with one of his friends.” 

Lee blushed, vibrant and high on his cheeks. “O-oh, I thought he stopped bringing his uh... friends by?” 

“He did,” Gaara confirmed. “But he insists this one is serious.” 

“How is Temari-san handling that?” 

“In stride. I believe she’s hopeful.” 

“And you?” 

“I don’t have any thoughts on the matter. What Kankurou gets up to in the bedroom isn’t my concern, so long as it doesn’t have any impact on Ruri--and as far as Ruri is concerned, he’s in agreement. I think he’s trying with this one, but I’m not an expert on romance--” His stomach dropped, a knot forming in his chest where his heart should have been. He glanced to Lee’s earnest face, his gaze glued to Gaara as he hung on his every word. 

“For Kankurou-san’s sake, I hope he finds someone who truly makes him happy,” Lee said with all the sincerity of a hopeless romantic--which Gaara knew him to be, though he’d never understood it. “Love is a wondrous thing, in all its forms! It would be a shame if he did not find that special someone!” 

Gaara couldn’t help wondering, his stomach curdling, if Lee had found that special someone. “A shame indeed,” was all Gaara could think to say. 

By the time they reached his home, in the south-west section of Suna, built into the walls of the plateau, Gaara and Lee had fallen silent. To Gaara, it felt heavy with unspoken intention, and he worried that Lee would sense what he’d discovered. 

It was an irrational fear--Lee, for all that he was a wonderful man and a skilled shinobi, was not known for his observation skills. 

Inside, the smell of simmering meat and fresh fruit filled the air, and the sounds of a babbling toddler echoed from the kitchen. Beside him, Lee sighed, content and sad all at once. 

“It smells wonderful,” he said, voice light. “It is always so nice being here.” 

“Do I hear Rock Lee?” Temari called. 

“Did you hear that, Ruri-chan?” Shikamaru cooed. “Uncle Lee’s here.” 

The excited squeal that followed told Gaara that Lee was most likely going to spend lunch with a baby in his lap. He smiled to himself, his own contentment purring like a cat in his chest. 

“Ruri-chan!” Lee exclaimed, entering the kitchen, arms thrown wide, just like his smile. “Did you miss me?” 

Ruri babbled excitedly, holding her arms up and waving her hands in Lee’s direction. “Iiiii! Iiii!” She hadn’t quiet figured out all her sounds yet, and Lee’s name was only a series of high-pitched shrieks, which never failed to bring tears to his eyes. 

Lee scooped her up without a moment’s hesitation, and was met with an enthusiastic, slobbery, open-mouthed kiss to the cheek. 

“Careful, she’s got most of her teeth by now.” Shikamaru handed Lee a cloth, smiling up at his daughter from the table. “How was your trip?” 

“Excellent!” Lee declared, wiping at the spittle on his cheek. “I almost beat my record!” 

“He missed it by twenty minutes,” Gaara added. 

“And yet you’ve graced us with your company before a rigorous workout?” Temari asked, the arch notes of her voice belied by the amused smile on her face. “Kankurou’s just finishing up in his workshop--oh, and he has a friend--well, I suppose a girlfriend.”

“Her name’s Kougen,” Shikamaru cut in, coming to his wife’s rescue. “She’s from the Puppet Brigade, so I have to assume he’s serious about her.” 

Lee listened intently, bouncing Ruri on his hip while Shikamaru brought him up to speed on Kankurou’s love life, Ruri’s progress (to which Ruri had much to say), and the general happenings in the village. Gaara watched from the other side of the kitchen, his eyes trained on Lee’s expression and his heart in this throat. 

“Gaara, can you help me?” Temari asked from the pantry, pulling him from his contemplation of Lee. He forced his gaze away from the smile on Lee’s face, and followed Temari’s voice into the pantry. 

“What do you need?” 

Temari snorted a laugh. “Nothing. Just saving you from embarrassing yourself.” She held out a jar of preserved lemons, shaking it at him vigorously. “I know Lee’s not the brightest, but he’s not an idiot--you know should know that by now.” 

“What are you talking about?” Gaara bit off, heat rising in his face. 

Temari thrust the jar of lemons into Gaara’s chest. “Don’t play dumb. First of all, I’m your big sister; second, I am literally your diplomatic liaison.” 

Gaara clutched at the jar, staring into Temari’s amused and exasperated expression. “What--what are you talking about?” 

Temari’s expression softened, her smile slipping. “Gaara, I know how you feel--”

Gaara stepped closer, his eyes going wide. “I--”

Temari held up a hand, cutting him off. “You don’t have to talk about it, and I’m not judging you. I know it’s...complicated,” she said delicately, “but if you ever want to tell him, I’m here for you.” 

Gaara rarely found himself caught off guard or speechless. He swallowed, holding the jar of lemons closer, as if to protect himself as he said, “I...only just realized.” 

Temari opened her mouth, then closed it with a snap. “You’re joking.” 

Gaara gave her a flat, unamused look.

“Winds damn me for opening my big mouth. Gaara, I’m so sorry. I really thought you knew--I mean, all these years of him coming over--he’s practically family!” she whispered frantically. 

“He’s our friend.” 

“Yes, he is. But you also stare at him like the Moon herself sent him here,” she said. “I just thought you weren’t ready.” 

“I wasn’t,” Gaara said. 

“What made you realize?” 

Gaara shook his head, closing his eyes at the memory of his treacherous thoughts. 

“Never mind,” Temari said, allowing him to keep this for himself. “I’m sorry I even brought it up.” She grabbed another jar of spices, shooing him from the pantry. 

“--show coming up,” Kankurou was saying, leaning over the chair Kougen was sitting in, one hand idly playing with a loose strand of her hair. 

“I wish I could see it,” Lee said. “It sounds as though the Genin have put quite a lot of effort into it!” 

“The kids are great,” Kougen said. “I think this is our best group of Genin in a while. Last year, a lot of the new ones weren’t interested in performing.” 

“Kids these days,” Kankurou grumbled, a cheeky grin on his face. “Hey, sis. Hey, Gaara.” 

Kougen jumped up suddenly, bowing in greeting. “Kazekage-sama, Temari-sama.” 

Behind him, Temari sighed. “Kougen, how many times do we have to tell you that’s not necessary?” 

Kougen blushed, returning to her seat. “I’m sorry. Old habits.” 

“Don’t worry ‘bout it, babe,” Kankurou muttered. “Lee still calls Gaara by his title, and they’ve been dancing around each other for years.” 

“Kankurou,” Temari snapped, teeth bared. “Help. Me. Cook.” 

“What? But it’s not my turn--” Catching the look on Temari’s face, Kankurou’s mouth closed with an audible clack. “Right. Helping.” 

At the table, Lee was beet red, staring at a particular spot on the wood, mouth pressed into a thin line. He was so focused, he barely acknowledged Ruri as she tugged on his hair, her tiny hands holding onto the black strands in tight fists. 

“So, Lee,” Kougen said, her voice tight as Gaara found a seat at the table. “I’ve heard a lot about you. I mean, everyone in Suna knows who you are, of course, but rumors are so different from actually knowing someone, aren’t they?” 

“There are rumors about me?” Lee asked, still looking at the table. Ruri gave a decisive tug that did nothing to make Lee move, though he did finally look up. 

“Well, everyone knows about your fight against the Kazekage during the Chuunin exams, and we all know you visit often. You’re a bit of an urban legend. The--oh, what is it they call you in Konoha? The Beast?” 

“The Beautiful Blue Beast,” Lee corrected. His gaze slid from Kougen to Gaara, but he quickly looked away when he met Gaara’s gaze. 

“That’s right!” she said with a slap to the table. “I try not to listen to rumors too much, but you do have an impressive reputation here.” 

The flush in Lee’s cheeks from earlier returned, softer than before, and a pleased smile eased the tight line of his mouth. “Well, I hope it is a positive impression.” 

“Absolutely! Any friend of the Kazekage is welcome in Suna,” Kougen declared. 

They passed the next thirty minutes with idle chatter while Temari berated Kankurou behind them in hushed tones and finished preparing lunch. Once lunch was served, Ruri was returned to her highchair so Lee could properly eat, though she cried for the first five minutes until Lee scooted closer and offered to feed her. 

Kankurou glared at his lunch, mullish over Ruri’s clear favoritism. Though he would never admit it, Kankurou had wanted desperately to be the fun uncle. 

By the end of lunch, Gaara knew he’d pushed his luck and was bound to return to his office and an even larger stack of paper work than when he’d first decided to shirk his duties in favor of seeing Lee. He weighed the consequences of pushing his work til later, knowing Lee only had until the morning, but decided against the obviously irresponsible choice. 

Lee had hardly looked at him since his return from the pantry, and Gaara was sure that he would have time to see Lee on his way back to Konoha. 

“I should return to the office,” Gaara announced, voice low so as not to disturb Ruri, who had passed out in Lee’s arms. 

Lee looked up at him, the sunshine in his smile fading like the sun setting beneath the horizon. “Already?” 

“Unfortunately,” Gaara confirmed. “I’ll be sure to see you off before you leave.” 

“I would like that.” 

Gaara held onto the image of Lee smiling up at him for the rest of the night, keeping it close for warmth in the absence of the Sun. 

[macbookpro-hard-drive]

control [jeremy h. x squipped!reader] pt.4

i arise from my grave to post this

so uhhhh consider............... im a tired college student-

anyway uh

i swear this part is shorter than i intended but i guess i’ll die

warnings: squip. thts it. the squip. manipulation, abuse, everything that kinda comes with writing about the SQUIP. also horror movie mentions but nothing explicit (although a kill is mentioned from one of said horror movies)

             Halloween day finally comes, and thankfully lands on a Saturday to give you maximum time to hang out with Michael and Jeremy (who, upon learning you’d be joining the two of them during a lucky moment between classes, had stared at you for a moment with furrowed brow before commenting he didn’t know that the two of you were friends again). Your nerves were getting the best of you as you flipped through your clothes, slipping into a comfortable pair of black jeans. The entire time, your SQUIP lingered around you, talking you through some game plan. You stripped off the large shirt you used for pajamas and slipped into a plain black t-shirt, before fishing your jean jacket from your bed. 

            Finally, you turned to your SQUIP’s form standing behind you. “Maybe I could, y’know... do this myself?” You suggested, before following it up with a quick, almost apologetic, “I don’t think I should be depending on you for every interaction... right?”

            At first, it didn’t respond. It stared at you, lips pressed into a thin line as it gave you a once-over. After letting out a small hum of approval at your ensemble, it shook it’s head. “I’ve run the numbers and that will result in your failure, [y/n]. It’s best to stick with the original plan,” and then it paused for a moment, “I’m beginning to detect that you don’t trust me.”

            “I do!” You responded quickly, before you nervously pushed past the intangible figure to look in your mirror. Combing your fingers through your hair, you let the question weigh in your mind before you finally looked back to your SQUIP. “Is... Is there any way to get rid of you?” 

            “No.” The response was sharp, quick to shoot down any and every idea you’d been formulating. 

            “Oh. So...” You trailed off, before crossing your room and fishing through your dresser to find a pair of socks, “I’m stuck with you, then.”

            “Stuck implies you no longer want me here, [y/n].”

            “It’s not that I don’t want you here...” You mused aloud, before snagging a pair of shoes and sitting on your bed. “It’s just... I don’t think I want you around when I’m, like, thirty.”

            “Plenty of world leaders would kill to have a SQUIP, [y/n]. Consider yourself lucky.”

            You merely shrugged at the sentiment before your phone chimed with a text from Michael, almost as if on cue to end this awkward moment between you and the voice in your head. Quickly, you finished getting ready and shoved your keys and phone into your pocket, and you raced out to Michael’s car. Jeremy was already in the passenger seat, forcing you to retire into the back - which, you immediately sprawled out and absolutely enjoyed the space as Michael took off, launching into a list of the contenders for the evening. Scream, Halloween, A Nightmare On Elm Street, specifically the remake of Friday The 13th (and, for a moment, you heard Jeremy exhale sharply at the title), Final Destination...

            “And Terrifier-” Michael began, eyes cutting towards Jeremy for a split second. 

            Immediately, Jeremy smacked Michael’s arm. “Dude, I told you I’m not watching Terrifier-” He shifted, “fuck that clown.” 

            You looked between the two of them. “What’s Terrifier?” 

            Michael’s beaming at your question. “Jer. We have to. They don’t-”

            “No!” He retorted, “fuck you, I’m sparing them, then-”

            “C’mon, Jeremy,” Michael teased further, “it’s just one kill-”

            “HE SAWS HER IN HALF, MICHAEL.” Jeremy’s voice went up an octave, and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, “that’s horrifying-”

            You rose a brow in response. “What’s so bad about that-”

            Jeremy turned to face you, “okay.” He shut his eyes for a moment, composing himself, before he opened them once more, “there’s this girl that gets kidnapped, right? She gets... suspended spread eagle, and cut down the middle.”

            “Okay, but-”

            “She’s upside down.” When you winced at the mental image, Jeremy looked back at Michael, “see? Any normal person would find that disgusting-”

           “Alright,” Michael conceded, “no Terrifier. Got it.”

           If there was one thing that became apparent extremely quickly, it was that the Friday The 13th remake was fucking awful. Without Michael’s constant quips (plenty having to do with Mr.Supernatural being in the movie), you weren’t sure how you survived - especially during a sex scene until the poetic line of “you have perfect nipple placement, baby” was spoken and immediately the three of you are choking on laughter - Michael more than happy to mock it. And thank fuck for that, because you’d been uncomfortable watching the scene up until that line - to say nothing of how awkwardly silent Jeremy had gone. The moment the movie was over, Michael began to queue up Netflix with the promise of watching something actually good. The opening moments of Scream had been enough to prove that.

          From beside you, Michael lowered his voice, looking at you and Jeremy, “what’s your favorite scary movie?” 

          You playfully nudged him with your elbow, “fuck, dude, that wasn’t even a good impression-”

          “I think it was great, actually,” Michael looked to Jeremy, “don’t you agree?”

          Looking between the two of you, Jeremy debated for a moment before finally giving his answer, “I, uh, kinda have to side with [y/n]-”

          “Unbelievable. Betrayal.” Michael leaned back into the couch, looking back to the movie, “I let you come into my house, eat my snacks-”

          “-That I helped buy,” Jeremy cut in.

          “That my dear friend Jeremiah helped buy,” Michael smirked a little, “and this is how I’m repaid.”

          “C’mon, Mikey,” you nudged him once more, “Jeremy’s not gonna lie about your shitty impression.”

          “He would if I was Christine.”

          “That’s because Christine’s talented,” Jeremy looked away, “it wouldn’t have sucked if she did it.”

          For a moment, you faltered. “Yeah,” you halfheartedly said, and pretended not to catch Michael’s concerned glance at your sudden change in behavior, “he’s got a point.”

          The moment Michael went to say anything, your phone began to ding relentlessly. With the intention of turning it to silent, you pulled it from your jacket pocket only to freeze the moment you caught a glimpse of the screen. Tweet after tweet, text after text, all of it came in rapid-fire, whether they were directly to you or not. You pulled yourself off of the couch, ignoring Michael’s call after you as you head upstairs to open up your Twitter.

          Rich set a fire. Jake’s house was burned down. Rich was in the hospital, and so was Jake.

          A hand landed on your shoulder, and you almost jumped as you turned to face Michael. He stared at you for a moment, giving you a once-over before finally speaking, “you okay?”

          You shrugged it off, stumbling as you took a step back, “yeah-”

          Michael’s gaze goes soft as he picked up on the fear that was racing through your blood and shining on your face. “That’s bullshit, [y/n],” he said, “look, I won’t push you to talk, but-”

          Swallowing your nerves, you forced yourself to stand tall and get your emotions under control. “Can you drive me home?”

          He glanced back to the door, where Jeremy had been coming up the steps, “uh, yeah- just let me grab my phone-”

          And then he left you alone with Jeremy as he retreated downstairs. Biting his bottom lip nervously, he tore his eyes away from you, before finally appearing to gather some courage to speak to you. “Is everything okay?”

          You nodded quickly, “yeah, just...” You trailed off, looking down at the floor, “something came up.”

          “What?”

          Immediately, you panicked. Something about saying Rich Goranski is in the hospital and I’m worried felt too heavy to drop at the moment. So you just stayed silent as Michael came back upstairs with his phone.

          The moment you were back in the sanctuary of your room, you found your phone once more. Flipping through tweets, you felt your stomach drop further. He burned the house down because he knew he was gay and couldn’t handle that, that he was dead, that he was high and drunk, that Jake had broken both of his legs while escaping the fire, and you saw a few tweets from some pissed people about how they’d been slightly burned while escaping the fire. But Rich received the worst of it. 

          “But-” You mused aloud, “how did he - why would he-” 

          “Rich lacked the proper coping mechanism. His SQUIP was most likely disabled due to the alcohol he consumed that night,” your SQUIP stepped into existence in front of you, and you lowered your phone as you looked up at it, “and with everything else he’s been dealing with...”

          Your blood ran cold at the implication. “You don’t mean he-”

          “Perhaps it was just an accident.”

          You caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, completely disheveled from your worries. “I should go see him.”

          “He won’t be awake.” Your SQUIP crossed it’s arms as it looked down at you, “besides... he most likely won’t be having visitors yet.”

          “I don’t care-”

          “[y/n]. You need to rest first. You can visit Rich tomorrow...” You finally gave into what it was saying, sitting down on your bed for a moment, “besides.” You looked up, “you did well tonight. You deserve a break.”

         “I... what?”

         “I let you control the conversation. Instead of giving you the correct things to say, I decided to watch. You performed amiably. Congratulations.” Your SQUIP smiled at you, “you’re learning. Of course, we still have more work to do, but it’s progress.”

         “Oh.” You stood, stripping off your jacket, “thank you, then.” You paused for a moment, “I don’t think I’m going to be able to sleep.”

         “Don’t worry. You’ll be fine. Don’t forget,” it said, and you turned to look at it, “you have me.”

         Over the next few days, you’d been relentlessly going to the hospital - borrowing your parents’ cars whenever you could. After several days of trying, you were finally able to get in to see Rich, and your heart sank in your chest when you finally saw him. He wasn’t awake, as your SQUIP had said, but he was alive and that was enough for you in that moment. He was broken and bruised, sure, but the fact his heart monitor provided a steady beat to break the silence in the room was almost like music. You stood at his bedside, looking down on him as he slept. You hugged your arms close to your body - what would have happened to you if you had gone to the party? Would you be here, alongside or instead of Rich? Would you have been able to stop him from... whatever he had been trying to do?

         “Rich,” you finally say aloud, and your tears choke you, “fuck - Rich, I’m sorry-”

         “You have nothing to apologize for,” your SQUIP’s touch grazed your shoulder, “this wasn’t your fault. There was nothing we could have done.”

         “I should have been there, I could have stopped him-”

         “It was for the best that you were with Michael and Jeremy, [y/n].”

         For a moment, you’re quiet and afraid. But you finally asked the question that had begun to weigh down on you: “is this going to happen to me?”

         “Of course not. Now... let’s get back to work,” your SQUIP said, “it’s important you don’t dwell on this for too long. Let’s visit Jake while we’re here.”

         Going along with it’s idea, you’d easily found Jake’s room after a few minutes of searching. The TV had been on with some cooking show displayed, and you were more than glad to see Jake awake and as well as he could be for someone with two broken legs. When you cautiously walked in, he brightened up immediately - and for a moment, you had assumed it was because you weren’t a nurse coming to check on him.

         “[y/n]!” He called out as you walked in, “how are you?”

         Caught off guard by the question, you stammered for a moment, “I’m - uh, I’m fine,” you said, “how are you?”

         “Great!” He said, “I mean - the whole broken legs thing is, y’know, not that great, but I’m glad to see you.”

         “You... you are?”

         “Yeah!” He said, “Rich always talks about you, y’know.” The moment you flushed, Jake chuckled, “he said you’re a lot cooler than you seem.”

         “Oh.” You looked away for a moment, “that’s sweet of him-”

         “Do you still do the art stuff?” He asked, and immediately you looked back at him.

         “How did you know that I-”

         He cut you off, “there was this project back in freshman year that you did with Michael Mell, and, uh, Jeremy-something. You did the art for it, right?”

         Nodding, you slowly remembered the piece you’d been repressing due to how rushed it had been. “Right. Yeah, I still do art stuff,” you smiled at him, “do you know when you’re getting out?”

         “Nah,” he sunk into the bed, “shouldn’t be long, though. We should hang out!”

         “Oh. Uh. Don’t you hang out with Chloe and Brooke...?”

         “Yeah,” he admitted, “but you came to visit me, so... we should still hang.”

         You couldn’t help but smile at that. “Sure,” you said, fiddling with your hair, “that’d be great, Jake.”

         Jake reached out for you, and immediately pulled you into an awkward hug. “Fuck, dude, Rich was right about you.”

         “About me being cool, or...?”

         “He said you’re really fuckin’ nice, since you helped him out with something.” He shrugged, “are you two... not friends?”

         “I, uh - we are, sorta-”

         “Good.” He said, “Rich is a good dude to his friends, y’know.”

         “What about your house?” You asked.

         Jake’s smile fell, “I mean... I think it was an accident. Since, y’know, Rich wouldn’t just burn my house down, right?”

         You nodded. “Right.” Stepping back away from the bed, you smiled once more, “I hope you get out of here soon, Jake.”

         On your way out of the hospital, you stood in the gift shop for far too long, occupied with your own thoughts. So Rich had been talking about you - and, whatever he said aside from you being nice, helpful, and cooler than you seem, it had been enough to make Jake Dillinger think the two of you were friends. You almost smiled at the idea, but the underlying feeling that Rich would wake up and immediately ditch you lingered within the pit of your stomach. Shaking your head, you dismissed the thought as you headed out to your car. You had things to do. 

          After all, you shouldn’t dwell.

        Over a week later, there’s this uneasy feeling that’s stuck with you from the first moment you saw Rich in that hospital bed. Uncertainty? Fear? You weren’t sure - but it dwelled within the pit of your stomach, making you doubt every move no matter whether you or your SQUIP made it. You’d just gotten home from hanging out with Michael and Jeremy at the mall, your backpack swung from your shoulder to the foot of your bed, and you nearly collapse as you sit down. Slowly, you sank your head into your hands, warm against your face before you finally let go and fall back onto your bed. When you uncovered your face, your SQUIP had materialized before you.

        It leaned over you. “Is there a problem? You should be happy since you spent time with Jeremy-”

        “I am, I just-” You paused for a moment, “I just don’t feel like I’m.. me anymore.”

        “You are you, [y/n].”

        You nodded slowly in agreement, before propping yourself up on your elbows. “Right, but... I feel like you’re taking control of everything and I’m - I’m just... fake.”

        It raised a brow at the mere idea. “You’re far from artificial.”

        Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you couldn’t help but feel... off. “But you don’t let me control things-”

        With a heavy sigh, your SQUIP shook it’s head before pacing around your room. “That’s because we’re still in phase B of our plan. Once we get to phase C, you’ll have more control-”

        “And when will that be?”

        It looked back at you, slowing to a stop. “Once we pin down Jeremy’s feelings for you, you can be more yourself.”

        After a moment, you sank back against your bed, shutting your eyes for a moment. “I hope you’re right.”

        “Of course I’m right. After all, relationships are like this...”

        You opened your eyes again. “What?”

        “Faking it until you get it? Revealing yourself when you have them? It’s very common, [y/n].”

        When it said that, you couldn’t help but feel skeptical. But when you tried to remember your last relationship (or, rather, a weak attempt at one), it felt so distant that you were unsure of how it had went. Yet you nod along nonetheless. The feeling of of dread stayed with you.

        And it continued to stay attached to you like a shadow over the next few days. Even when you found yourself sitting on Michael’s bed, a pillow hugged against your chest as he and Jeremy were ecstatically talking about one of Michael’s latest finds from the guy at Spencer’s. You’d zoned out for the time being, thoughts more preoccupied with what was to come. How much longer would it be until you had control over yourself again?

        But your SQUIP’s voice jarred you from your thoughts. “We need to go.”

        As Michael pulled out a bottle of red soda, a slightly faded plastic label reading MOUNTAIN DEW RED crinkling as he did, you held back a frown at your SQUIP. “[y/n],” Michael said with a smile, holding it out, “you want one?”

        “Hell yeah, dude-” You had began as you reached for it, barely getting it within your grasp before a shock rang through your hand, a small hiss of pain emitting from you as the bottle hit the floor. “Shit, sorry, Michael-”

        But a flash of pain cut you off before you could try to explain anything away. Your voice was distant as you heard yourself speak, bullshitting some excuse as you lost control of your body - it moving on it’s own despite your desperate attempts to take back what was yours. You managed to take control back the moment you got outside, knees weak and the following shock was enough to send you crashing onto your knees.

        “What the fuck?!” You snapped, speaking aloud as another shock ran through you. “FUCK-”

        “I told you we need to leave.”

        “I didn’t want to-”

        “[y/n], we-”

        “No!” You snapped once more, “no - this is still my life - I want to-” Your speech devolved as you struggled to word your thoughts, “it was just a soda!” Another shock ran through you. “What the fuck- come on - I just- it was just-”

        And then it all made sense. The panic. The sudden change. How close had you been? How fucking close had you been? When you tried to get back up and turn yourself around, you found yourself fighting for control all over again as your body turned away from Michael’s house, every step forcing you farther and farther from salvation.

         “[y/n]!” Michael’s voice rang clear out across his front lawn, and before you could try to do anything, he was running up to you - catching you by the wrist. “Hey - what the fuck, dude? Are you okay? What just happened-”

         But he stopped, staring at you. You, completely terrified and shaking and fighting for control of your own fucking body. You were, to put it simply, a mess. Disheveled, hands twitchy, breathing labored as you forced yourself to stay planted where you were. You broke through, “get the Mountain Dew Red” slipping past your lips in a hiss before another shock of pain sparks through you, and you’re pulling yourself away from Michael once more. 

         A door slammed. Before you could go anywhere, Michael’s footsteps pound against the pavement as he tackled you to the ground. Your body fought against him. He managed to grab you by the wrists, pinning you down, his knees at your abdomen as you continued to thrash against your will against him.

         “[y/n]-” Michael began, before his nails dug into your skin, “what the literal fuck is going on?”

        Tears streamed down your cheeks as you fought for your voice. “I-” You managed to force past your lips, “I - I took this - pill,” your voice strained, and you kept fighting for control, “I thought Jeremy would like me but - but I fucked - I fucked up, Michael-” You were straight up about to breakdown, voice wavering with every forced syllable, “I’m so sorry, I just - I can’t-”

        “[y/n].” It’s voice cut clearly through your mind, almost afraid for a second. “I promise - I’ll do better for you. We’ll scrap this plan and make a new one. You just have to let me try again. I promise-” 

        The door slammed once more, and Jeremy is rushing over, questioning everything along the way.

        It turned nasty. “You’ll never be the same, [y/n],” it hissed, “think about it - if you keep me, you’ll be normal - you’ll never have to hurt again. If you get rid of me, you’ll never be accepted - you’ll be an outcast all over again, and Jeremy and Michael are guaranteed to hate you-” 

        The last things you remembered were the faintly fruity taste on your lips, a thousand questions flying around you, and an intense pain that seemed to completely split you in two as a scream tore it’s way out of you.

        And then everything went black.