Take a Chill Pill - Assorted Be More Chill Stuff

Treasure

Starting with a few new headcanons, because I have some of those.

Jeremy is a cat person. You'd expect him to like any animal, because he's a sweetie and it just seems like he would, but he really doesn't do dogs. Cats are a different story. He'll probably end up being a crazy cat lady.

Michael is allergic to cats. Not badly, but enough that maybe Jeremy won't become a crazy cat lady.

Jeremy's laugh sounds like he's about to cry. It's super contagious, but it really sounds like he might burst into tears.

Jeremy had a flannel phase. Not hipster, but just wearing flannels all the time. It was right after the SQUIP and might've been a way to prove that he wasn't controlled by it anymore.

They both make really bad jokes when high, but Jeremy's are something else. They make absolutely no sense and most of them don't have a punchline. If they do, it's probably random. They both find them hilarious, of course.

Michael eventually assigns everyone in their friend group nicknames based off of nintendo characters. Rich is Bowser, Jake is DK, Chloe is Zelda, Brooke is Princess Toadstool (not Peach, Michael's very adamant about this), Christine is Toadette, Jenna is Navi, and Jeremy's nickname changes almost weekly (it's usually Kirby or Luigi or Samus ("Samus is a girl, Michael." "I know.")). No one is allowed to give Michael a nickname except Jeremy, and they also change, usually to complement whatever nickname Michael has for him that week. Sometimes they bust out really obscure nicknames from games most people have forgotten about by now (they were Goldbob and General White for a solid month (I don't expect anyone to get that, but I love PMTTYD, so I'm writing it anyway)).

Anyway, enjoy the fic.

It started at his fingertips.

    At first, he didn't think anything of it. Maybe the weed was staining his skin. Cigarettes did that. Maybe it was the same thing. Or maybe he ate too many cheetos. Yeah, that was probably it.

    Then it spread. Within a week, his left hand and most of his right fingers were encased in some kind of weird yellow glow. No. Glow was the wrong word, but it was definitely shiny. It didn't hurt, not really, but it was stiff. And cold. And it made texting kinda difficult.

    Then it wound up his arms. It was harder to ignore. He still didn't know what it was. The internet didn't help. That was the weirdest thing to him. The internet always knew. If it didn't, someone on it would. Every time. That was the only way he'd been able to save his best friend from that stupid computer. Someone on the internet knew.

    His best friend...

    Jeremy didn't know yet. He was on a little family trip. His dad was getting married again. It was great, and Michael was happy that the Heere family was being put back together (Jeremy was even getting a stepbrother who was like a year older than them), so he didn't want to scare Jeremy. It was his time to be with his family, not worrying about his friend's weird skin condition. They could worry about it when Jeremy got back. And until then, they could daydream about their own weddings (Michael still held a bit of hope that it would be their wedding) over text while Jeremy sat through rehearsals and vow writing and suit fitting. Michael chuckled to himself at the thought of his friend falling asleep in a folding chair in the chapel and snoring through the actual wedding because he'd seen them practice it so much. His suit, which they'd have to force him into, wrinkling underneath him, the tie crooked, his hair fluffed up, his mouth hanging open slightly, his tiny kitten snores blurring into all the normal wedding noise. Michael's heart fluttered at the image. So what if it was just a fantasy for now? He could daydream, right?