#I know michael sheen doesn’t owe us anything

[rainbowpopeworld]

I know this is a bit unhinged, but I keep looking at Michael Sheen’s Twitter and feeling like Crowley watching Aziraphale getting into that damn elevator.

Like, when are you coming back? Are you coming back? What are you going to say when you do? 😭😭😓😩😔🕶️

[babyspiderling]

Tiny Dancer p.2

"Just stare into space, picture my face in your hands. Live for each second without hesitation"

"Janet, you can't tell anyone about this." Michael tells her, focused on damage control. Janet fires back without hesitation. "The hell you mean I can't tell anyone? Marlon owes me ten bucks now." I roll my eyes, patting Michael on the back. "Mike,I'm sure your brothers are looking for you. I don't think we want anyone else listening in on this conversation anyways. I'll talk to Jan, ok?" He glances back and forth between his younger sister and I, a concerned look deep in his face. He sighs out an "Ok, fine." and heads back to his dressing room. I turn back to the youngest Jackson. "Listen Jan, I only want what's best for Mike. If it were up to him, and if the circumstances were different, you'd be the first to know on purpose. The world may be changing fast, but we've got a long way to go. The media would flip if word got out that The Michael Jackson was with not only his seamstress, but a white chick at that. Not to mention your father. God, he would kill us if he found out. He'd fire me and i'd never see Michael or any of you again." I deflate in front of her eyes, letting myself show vulnerability to the fifteen year old. "I really do love him Janet. I can't lose him, but I can't just let him risk losing his career over me. I'm the reason we're a secret. Michael is a glass half full person, always trusting and seeking out the positive, but I see what is going to happen if we enter the world of the limelight." When I look into her eyes, her head is cocked to the side, studying me. "Alright, I see where you're coming from. I know Joseph, and you're probably right. Just don't hurt Mike. He's my favorite after all." I nod, relieved that she understood where we are coming from. "I promise to tell you everything you want to know later ok? Maybe at the hotel or while I'm patching up something that the boys unsurprisingly ripped up." Janet giggles, and we make our way back to the rest of the group.

I lay down in the linen sheets of the hotel bed, needing to sleep to be able to get up in the morning to fix a couple of loose buttons and worn knees. I hold a pillow close to myself and let myself float away to dreamland.

The creaking of my door opening stirs me from my slumber. I prop myself up on my elbow, turning on the lamp. "Mike? What's going on?" He's in pajamas, and his hair is mussed. He scratches the back of his neck sheepishly, and murmurs out a "Couldn't sleep." I huff and fall back onto the bed. "Fine, get in here. You said so yourself that you sleep better with someone than alone. We've both got an early morning and it's already... 2 AM." His bare feet shuffle across the hotel carpet and the bed slightly creaks as he climbs in next to me. Once he's gotten comfortable, I lay my head on his chest and wrap an arm around him, succumbing to the exhaustion filling my bones.

I wake up to my alarm, letting myself give in to Michaels grip and the temptation to hit the snooze button and spend an extra few minutes in the warmth and security his arms provide. I snuggle close to him and doze off. Once again the door opens up, but I shrug it off, thinking it to be Janet. Instead of her girlish squeal of embarrassment, I hear a masculine shout of surprise. The sharp cry from Randy shocks us both awake. The second youngest Jackson wears an expression of both surprise and smugness. "I knew it! I knew something was going on between you two! Mike, my man, congrats. I knew you'd get her eventually. Now tell me, when did this all start out?" As Michael and I rubbed the sleep from our eyes, Randy had made himself comfortable on the small couch nearby, his chin in his hands, elbows resting on his knees. Groaning, I pull myself out of the bed, tugging my shirt down so I don't flash Randy. I pat Michaels shoulder and groan out: "You're taking this one. I talked to Janet last night and I have to get ready. Jackie tore his shirt last night and I've got to make him a new one. Who tears their shirt in the middle of their chest like that?" I sit on my heels to grab my things and head to the bathroom to get dressed.

Finished with make-up, I tie my hair back in a high ponytail. Combing through my hair, Michael enters to get ready himself. "So, how'd it go?" He shrugs a little and reaches for the extra toothbrushes the hotel offers. "Randy promised to keep it a secret until we tell everybody else. He was a little surprised that we've been together since Destiny. He thought it was a recent development, not a three year old relationship." Securing my hair one last time, I turn and smile at my lover. "Well, at this rate, Randy only has to keep it a secret for another 5 days. Go ahead and schedule out a lunch or something for your mother. I want her to know that I love her son more than anything else, and I don't want to keep him a secret anymore. But you have to promise me that if this whole thing goes wrong, your career comes first. You have worked your entire life for this, you are living your dream life, don't throw away your dream for me." He chuckles a bit, and rests his forehead against mine. "If this whole thing goes wrong, I'll hire you again myself. You'll be my personal costumer/seamstress. And no one will be able to get rid of you." I giggle and give a peck to his mouth. "Alright toothpaste lips, finish up and get back to your room. I'm sure you can't go to sound check in your pajamas. And send Janet and Randy back to me. I need her input on somethings and I'm sure Randy has more questions." He finishes up and goes back to his room, the two youngest Jacksons coming in not too much later.

"Alright guys, I'm gonna work some because that is what I'm here to do, but I can answer your questions at the same time." I lay out the fabric on the round table in the room as the two sat down on the couch. They both started talking at the same time, but stopped soon enough. Janet spoke first. "When did this start? How did this start?" I smile at the fabric and respond. "Even when I was growing up, I thought that Michael was the most handsome boy on the planet. But when I started working with you guys 4 years ago I decided to remain professional. This was my dream career and I would not jeopardize it over a celebrity crush. Michael and I became friends not long after, and I actually pushed him away in the beginning. I was so scared that either of us would get attached and it would risk our professional lives. During the music video for Shake Your Body, I was joking around with Marlon and Michael got all huffy. He ranted a little bit and ended up kissing me. It didn't take long until we started actually dating." I flip the fabrics so that the shirt is inside out and pin it together. I move to my machine, and Randy asks: "Why keep it a secret? It's not like anyone here doesn't like you?" I adjust the needle to where I need it and lower the presser foot. "Well, we as a society may have come a long way, but not everyone is going to agree with the fact that Michael Jackson, global superstar, chose to date his seamstress, and then the fact that it's a biracial relationship will send a whole other group into a frenzy. He worked so hard to be where he is, to live his dream, and I felt that if we released our relationship to the public, it could cause a lot of backlash his way. Plus I'm pretty sure that if Joseph found out about us, he'd see me as a distraction, turning his son against him. He'd fire me in an instant. I'd probably never be able to see any of you again. Now that it's suddenly impossible to keep us a secret anymore, we're going to tell Ms. Kathrine soon. Michael is going to schedule it today, and we'll tell her then." Once the two are done with their questions, Janet turns on the radio and we just have a good time until Randy needs to head to the venue. Janet and I finish up, double checking over everything before we accidentally forget anything at the hotel.

We make it to the venue early enough that we make it backstage, and I watch the boys rehearse and just do their thing. Randy meets my eyes from his place behind the bongos, and he sends me a wink. I make my way to the dressing rooms to replace what I fixed for the second night in New York. As I replace the red floral print shirt in Michael's dressing room, my lover walks in. His hair is a little wet from sweat and he has a thin sheen of sweat covering his skin. I giggle as he does his best to freshen up. "I'm glad you don't do sound check in costume. I'd have to make an outfit for every night of the tour, since you guys sweat so much." He sticks his tongue out at me, and then has a mischievous look in his eyes. He turns and creeps towards me, his arms wide to catch me if I tried to escape him. I back away slowly, "Michael, don't do this! I'm a nice person! I just took a shower!" I go to make a break for the door but he catches me and pulls me close, squeezing me tight and rubbing his sweaty face and body all over me. "Michael Joseph Jackson! I'm going to kill you! I'll put you in an outfit from '68!" He just giggles in my ear, enjoying my shrieks and squirms. "No you won't, you love me too much." I push at his arms, trying to get out of his grip. "Not anymore! Randy's my new favorite member!" He bites at my earlobe teasingly, his breath fanning over the shell of my ear, his voice dropping from the usual airy high pitch he speaks in. "Are you sure about that, girl?" I shiver and stutter at the distraction, "Fine, you called my bluff. Now can you please let me go? I need to know when we're telling your mother." Reluctantly, Michael loosens his grip enough for me to grab the towel he used, wiping my own skin down, and I rummage through my purse for my bottle of vanilla. Michael takes a seat and smiles at me. "Girl, you know I get hungry when you wear that stuff. Smelling all sweet and stuff." I chuckle and apply the vanilla to key points. "Tell you what. When we go out to tell your mother I will buy you any dessert you want after." I watch from the mirror as he lifts himself from his seat and slots himself behind me, his mouth close to my neck, and even closer to my ear. He gives a teasing squeeze to my backside and murmurs in my ear: "What if I want you to be my dessert?" I turn in his arms, and deliver a light slap to his shoulder. "Michael! What is with you? You've never been so... forward." He just chuckles and steps away. "Maybe I'm just excited I can finally show you off to everyone. Oh, and we're meeting Mother at lunch tomorrow. I've gotten a reservation for the three of us at Mortimer's. I heard they're really good." I nod and glance down at my wrist watch. "Oh, wow! I've got to make sure Jackie's shirt fits for tonight. Break a leg if I don't see you. And I'm excited to have lunch with your mother. I love you!" I give him a peck on his perfect lips and head out the door. Michael catches my wrist before I can leave and pulls me back to him, giving me a real kiss to make up for my quick peck. I giggle as we break away for oxygen. "Alright love machine, I seriously have to go." I hurry out of his dressing room and down to Jackie.

I've never been so nervous in my life. I have no reason to be nervous. Kathrine doesn't dislike me, in fact she and I have had amazing talks between fittings and shows. But maybe after she finds out that I've stolen her son's heart, her opinion of me will change? If she doesn't approve, will Michael leave me? He is an absolute mommas boy. "Babe, relax. Mother absolutely adores you, and I do too. Everything is going to be absolutely fine. I promise." Michael squeezes my thigh in reassurance, and I take a deep breath to calm myself down.

All three of us are seated at the table and our drinks are ordered. Michael holds my hand under the table, unsure himself how to start. "Mother, I have something to tell you, I am in love with the kindest, most beautiful woman in the world." Kathrine smiles a bit at this and urges her son to continue. "That's amazing honey. Who is it?" Michael and I glance at each other before Michael tells the Jackson Matriarch. "Well, Mother, it's Y/N. She and I have been together for almost 3 years now." There's a mix of emotions on her face, and she opens her mouth, trying to figure out what to say. "Well, Michael, honey, I am so happy you found someone. You deserve to be happy. I just can't understand why you wouldn't tell anyone for all that time." I sigh, opening my mouth. "Ms. Katherine, that's my fault. I wanted to keep our relationship under wraps because Michael has worked so hard to be where he is and I didn't want to be a reason for him to receive backlash. I also knew that Mr. Jackson eliminates any distractions for the boys. I know it sounds selfish, but I would have rather kept him my little secret and not have to give him up than show him off and risk losing not only my job, but the love of my life. I know now that telling you about our relationship is going to make Michael happy, and if his happiness means I am seen as a distraction and the consequences that go with it, so be it. I regret not telling you sooner, and for that I am truly sorry." Katherine listens the entire time with soft eyes, listening to every word I say. Michael grabs my hand on the table and gives it a proud squeeze. Once again Katherine opens her mouth and what she says next almost brings me to tears. "Oh, Y/N. understand. I see you truly care about my son, putting his career before your happiness, and then his happiness over your career. I know that that is not an easy decision, and it really shows just how much you care about him. Now, I won't sugar coat anything, but not everyone will approve of your relationship. A white woman and a black man together won't be the easiest thing for people to accept but you have to remember that it is your happiness, no one else's." I felt like all the weight had been lifted off my shoulders after that. We ate lunch and enjoyed the streets of New York. After Katherine had gotten into her car, I turned to Michael. "Alright, what do you want for dessert?" Pulling me into the back of the car, he placed me in his lap. "Hmm, something sweet, a little spicy... I'll have... you."

Taglist: @accio-boys​

[ed-edward-blackbeard]

I’m preserving the privacy of the blog and blog-runner that I had this with.  Don’t ask me who it was, I will not say.  Don’t assume you know who it is.  And if you’ve got a problem with it, bring it to me.  Nobody else.  No, I don’t know why I’m feeling so strongly about this, or taking this so intently.  I just am.  We good?

Okay.

I’m actually addressing it like this for two reasons.  The first?

I mean what I goddamn said.  I’m proud of feeling like this.  Am I upset?  I certainly am.  I’m sick and damn tired of Tumblr’s “cancellation culture” or whatever you’re referring to yourselves as nowadays.  

I’m sick and fucking tired of bloviating anons getting their sore assholes licked because well, he’s dating someone MY AGE and that’s just gross even though i’d date him hahahahahaha like, really?  This is going to be your reaction?  

I’ve seen so many anons across so many accounts today that I’m despairing of anyone ever having more than one braincell in their empty fucking skulls.  It’s like that old Windows Logo screensaver.  You know the one, the black screen with the Windows logo bouncing around on it.  

Michael doesn’t owe you, me, or any of us any goddamn thing.  Period.  You don’t like his private life choices?  Hey, too bad!  You don’t get to dictate that!  You want to sulk about it like a teenager?  Hey, knock yourself out.  But you don’t get to do that shit in public and then act all shocked and upset when someone else responds differently.  Keep that shit to yourself.  Wrap yourself in tinfoil or whatever it is you want to do, but keep that shit to yourself.  Don’t inflict that shit on the rest of us.

When you do?  You give the rest of us the right to answer back.  Don’t want to hear me?  Fine.  A, don’t incite me.  B, unfollow my fat ass, and C, block it.  Because I’m going to say it.  

The second?

Michael Sheen is probably the most fan-friendly celebrities I’ve seen in awhile.  Sure, there are actors from other shows who are reaching out to their fanbases (Hi there, Arjun Gupta!  Hale Appleman, nice to see you!  Summer, welcome to the club!) and there are “official” blogs and tumblrs run by “authorized accounts” to cater to fans, but.

Michael Sheen actively promotes fans.  He answers their questions, he laughs at their jokes, he shares fanworks, he encourages fans to create those works, and when someone complains about it, he literally invites them to, and I quote, “very fuck off.”

More than that, he shares with us.  He shares his causes, the things that he feels strongly about, encourages us to learn with him and from him, and openly invites us to support him and the causes in whatever way we can.  

He’s practically invited the world into his living room via his Twitter.  

And then he sees the very people he’s supported and invited along with him actively turning against him.  Saying vile things about him and his partner/girlfriend (I’ve seen critiques of him using the word partner, odds on if he’ll get married or how long it’ll last, whether or not he actually wants the baby, so many criticisms of the age gap I’m ready to vomit, and who this woman is and what she wants out of him.)  

What the hell gives you the right?  Maybe I am shaming in this, maybe I am inflaming, but goddamn, somebody needs to fucking shame you sons of bitches.  Yesterday, literally yesterday, nobody was giving two shits that he had a girlfriend, and we were ALL jumping on his metaphorical cock.  Not even twenty four hours later, there’s a vilification in process that is sickening.  

So many times I’ve seen it happened and I haven’t said anything.  I’ve stayed out of the drama, I haven’t spoken up, and I regret every single minute of that silence.

I can’t stay silent this time.  I won’t.  And you can’t make me.