#micheal is so ridiculous i love him

[ghosted-draws]

A Mikeon for the ages he watched the backrooms once and made it his whole personality

[eugenedebs1920]

Alright MAGA. Enough is enough! Are you Americans or are you Russians? Do you stand with the Constitution and the freedom & liberty granted to you within it, or do you want to hand this nation over to Putin? To many of us it’s been clear since at least 2015 or prior that Trump had ties to Russia, I would recommend glancing at the Muller report. Micheal Flynn went to prison for collusion with Russia. Could have been a coincidence I suppose. The meddling in the 2016 election by Russia, I guess Trump didn’t ask them supposedly (technically he did with the Hillary emails thing, but). Then there was his first meeting with a foreign government official he had at the White House, that happened to be, you guessed it, a Russian official. In that meeting Trump cleared the room, upon its completion, being the dumbass that he is, inadvertently told reporters he gave sensitive information to them. Then there was the Helsinki meeting. You couldn’t tell if Trump was nervous, excited or if he wanted to blow Putin. Then it comes out, that at the hype of the covid pandemic, when the medical testing supplies were in short supply, Americans were unsure, scared, dying by the thousands, and instead of ensuring these supplies went to Americans, he sent large shipments to Putin. Then, after he knew he had lost the election, he took a plethora of classified documents, war plans, state secrets, and tried to hide them at his various residences. Why? I’ll give you 3 guesses. Putin. Russia. Kremlin. A while later Putin’s buddy Orban makes a stop at maralardo, coincidentally directing after meeting up with Putin. A little after that reporting comes out that Trump has had numerous calls with Putin where he had everyone clear the room for him to talk. Recently, All the sudden, out of nowhere, an unlikely oligarch, who Trump has criticized in the past, Trump has nothing but disdain for electric vehicles, or any renewable energy for that matter, a guy who Steve Bannon, trumps lieutenant, despises and ridicules, Elon Musk, becomes homies with Trump. NOW, it turns out Musk and Putin have been in cahoots for years! Let me spell this out for y’all again. TRUMP IS A RUSSIAN ASSET. It’s Plain as day! So stand with your country. Drop the spite for “woke” and the whole “owning the libs” thing. This is your damn country for Christs sake! Show it some appreciation! What more do you need to understand the Russian threat Trump poses! Do you need a picture of him cuppin the bawls before you’ll believe it?! Be an American, use your head and dump Trump! For the love of god man!

[sl-newsie]

American Woman (Thomas Shelby x American OC) Ch. 44: Season's Greetings

Masterlist: https://www.tumblr.com/sl-newsie/739551758747090944/american-woman-thomas-shelby-x-american-oc?source=share

December 24, 1925

Liverpool Docks

“Ready, Ada?”

Ada wraps her fox fur coat around her shoulders to combat the cold wind. “Are you? It’s been a whole year since you’ve seen Tommy.”

We climb inside the Bently waiting for us. There’s so many nerves bottled up inside I feel like I’m about to burst. My broers’ last words still have me wondering if I’m making the right choice.

“I pray these months haven’t changed him too much.” 

“I’m staying with Polly. Would you like to drive with me to John’s to drop off some presents? I’m checking in on Arthur too.”

I stare through the window at the wandering people. “Actually I’m going straight to the office to settle some questions I have. You can go on ahead. I’ll visit John later.”

Throughout the whole drive to Birmingham Ada and I go back and forth discussing last-minute details from the Boston docks. However, my mind cannot stop drifting to think about seeing Thomas again. Last time I was so close. So close to telling him everything. I know expecting him to wait is completely ridiculous. Maybe that’s why the excitement of coming back is stained by the fear that my absence will have caused him to be forgetful of me.

The car stops outside a new building I’ve never seen before. 

“This must be the new office,” Ada says. “Are you still going to the Christmas party?”

“Yes. I’ll tell John I’ll be there.” 

I grab my trunk and step out into the muddy streets. December in England is so much more wet than in Brooklyn. Where’s the snow? I walk into the first room and spot Lizzie behind a desk. When she sees me her eyes flash the familiar look of hatred.

“Season’s greetings, Lizzie. What should I expect?”

She gives a small huff and returns to checking the records. “He’s isolated himself from the family. ‘S just been him and Charlie.” I walk past her to a staircase and she speaks up again. “Oh, by the way, the only love he’s received is from whores. Thought you should know.”

Sure. She can think I’ll believe that. As much as my heart might fall for Thomas there is still a part of me that dreads to know that he still takes physical pleasures from other women. My only guess is that I have to become as corrupt and defiled as the rest for him to consider me. May might be right. I’m too pure for this.

Michael walks through a door and sees me climbing up. “Oh! Tommy didn’t say you were coming.”

My face brightens. “Michael! I’m so sorry I wasn’t there when you all were pardoned-”

He holds a hand up to stop me and offers to help me with my trunk. “It’s alright, Verena. You’ve helped keep the business flowing smoothly. All’s well in Boston, I hope?”

“Business is booming. How’s Polly?”

Michael’s smile drops. “Not as good. She’s addicted to tablets from the prison. Going off her rocker, to tell you the truth.”

Oh God. That poor woman… Why didn’t Thomas tell me things had gotten this worse? 

“You thought she was religious before,” Micheal says. “Now she claims she sees spirits.”

I’m almost afraid to ask. “Did all of you… change?”

He bites his lip, contemplating if he wants to go any further. “Yes.”

“How bad?”

“You can see for yourself at John’s party.”

Right. The party. “Will the children be there?”

Michael checks his watch and starts walking. “Yes. Arthur’s been excited for you to meet little Billy.”

“My instructions from Thomas have stopped,” I call after him. “Any reason why?”

Michael turns to face me with his mouth pressed in a thin line. “He’s detaching himself from work.” That doesn’t sound like Thomas. “I’ll have more instructions for you after the holidays.”

No. I’m not waiting any longer. I’m going straight to the source. “Is he here?”

Michael points down the hall. “Right through that magical door. He just got done with a meeting.”

I start walking to it. “Please tell Polly I’ll visit as soon as I can. Wish her a ‘Merry Christmas’ for me.”

I push the door open and walk into a dimly lit room. Inside is a long wooden business table. A portrait of the company’s stemma hangs on the wall. At the end of the room Thomas sits at the table, smoking as usual. The thing that sets him apart from last time are the round spectacles on his grimly-carved face. Through the thick smoke I can’t tell if he's just as happy to see me.

“Ah, there are those braids. Did you come over with Ada?”

I don’t know how to respond to this greeting. Commenting my hair braids? Not even a simple hello? 

“Yes,” I answer slowly. “Merry Christmas to you, too. Ada's gone to visit your brothers, then she’s coming to see you.”

He doesn’t seem interested. Instead Thomas gets up and walks closer to look at me. “You’ve changed. Your letters stress more on business instead of pleasure. But you’re still full of spirit.”

So he does read my letters. He just doesn’t bother to respond. Full of spirit, am I? Maybe it’s because I was so desperate to hear from him. Such a contrast to his unaffectionate personality.

“Vader recovered quite well. When he was able to walk I spent the summer helping my brother Eoin and his wife with their four kids so they could take a vacation. You’d change too if you had to learn to wrangle those little schavuits.” 

I walk closer too, dawning a deciphering face that tells him I cannot be so heartless. “In fact… You look different as well. Those glasses…” Is it just me or does Thomas look more tense than before? “I like it. Makes you look… sophisticated. Just like the man everyone in Boston thinks you are.”

Thomas catches on to my cold tone and tries to ignore it. “I see you’re wearing the gift I sent you.”

“Yes I am, thank you very much,” I say gratefully and finger the pendant around my neck. “I love it. I’m surprised you remembered.”

A quaint smile crosses his face. “‘S not every day a girl turns 23.”

True. But what’s happening right now is not about me. I need to redirect him back to the subject at hand.

“You wrote that you wanted me back. Thomas, I’m serious, I am here to help reconnect your family. What plans do you and Charlie have for Christmas?”

Why is he looking at me like that? It’s like he wants to avoid me, glare at me, or hug me. I thought I was conflicted about this visit but I think he beats me. 

“We’re spending Christmas at Arrow House,” Thomas says. “I got him his own horse. A thoroughbred.”

My eyes close and I have to keep from frowning. “Thomas. That’s very sweet, but a horse cannot replace family.”

He takes a puff on his cigarette. “Polly’s seeing spirits. Michael needs cocaine to stay awake. Linda and Esme want to carve my eyes out. Gathering for Christmas is not going to fix this, Verena. Also, Ada tells me you’ve been advertising whiskey on the side.”

I shrug. “Your clients like to drink, my vader makes whiskey. It’s been profitable. Is that so wrong?” He’d be a hypocrite if he disagrees.

Thomas shakes his head and walks over to pour a glass of his own whiskey. “I heard Lizzie mention my recent routines with ladies of the night. Thought you’d have something to say to that, eh? Religious reminders or what not.”

That is it! I’ve had enough!

I clench my fists and make for the door before I punch him in his smug face. “I came here to help your family! Whoever you fuck is not my concern, Thomas. I know I can’t change your mind about it. All you Shelbys ever do is screw around.”

Behind me I hear him hum in surprise. “Still so innocent.”

I spin around and face him with a glare moeder would be proud of. “‘Look like the innocent flower, But be the serpent under ‘t.’ Beware women, Thomas. Their sweet smiles can turn into venomous bites when their motive is strong.” I am not so different.

Thomas raises a brow. “So I shouldn’t trust you either, eh?

I grunt frustratedly and grip my head. “I’m telling you this so you can trust me. Everywhere you send me I’ve seen strong-willed men come undone at a woman’s smile.” My eyes narrow with determination. “I am stronger than that. When a handsome man tries to sway my opinion I know exactly how to correct him.”

Thomas can’t ignore the mention of another man. “And how is that, might I ask?”

I smirk. “A loaded pistol used for a little persuasion never hurts. At least at first.”

Thomas mirrors my grin and raises his glass. “Remind me never to make you mad.”

“You have before. Was I that pleasant?”

His eyes darken. “No.”

I put my hands on my hips. “That’s what I thought.”

Thomas glances at my trunk. “Are you staying in town?”

I grimace at the thought of Ada having to stay with Polly. “I’m stopping by John’s to say hello before the party. I’m planning on going back to Watery Lane so I don’t intrude. People are going to hate me too, Thomas.”

I feel him grab my small hand with his callused one. “Stay at Arrow House for Christmas. There’s more than enough room. Charlie will be happy to see you.”

We’re not getting anywhere. “That’s why I’m here, Thomas. For you and your family. Are you still not going to John’s party?”

Thomas’ blue eyes dart all over my face. “They don’t want anything to do with me. I find myself blessed enough to have you back. I’m not bringing them back into this if they don’t want to.”

And I can’t force him into this because he’s too scared to face them. I’ve got my work cut out. Maybe there can be a Christmas miracle.

“Okay, Thomas. I can stay at Arrow House. But you need to promise me that you will at least make an effort to wish them a ‘Merry Christmas.’”

My acceptance of his offer brings a slight smile to Thomas’ face. “Before you go to John’s there’s something I’d like to show you.”

Of all places to find surprises I would not expect a normal-looking warehouse with no one guarding it. I’m led inside and take in the view of a giant room stocked to the brim with bottles of gin. His own distillery! This kind of progress is just what Thomas needs! A hobby that’s not trying to kill him.

“Goodness! When did this happen?”

Thomas brings out a case of bottles. “Your father’s drink inspired me. Now I use dad’s old recipe to make my own. We’ll still buy your brand, of course.”

I’m still gawking in wonder at the place. “Thomas, this is amazing!”

“Try some?” He holds out a sample glass. “Be honest.”

I take a sip and take in the new flavor. Nothing like vader’s but I give him credit. My taste is very specific. “It’s good. Quite impressive. Do you export?”

Thomas nods proudly. “Yeah. Some I send off to Boston. Your lot drink it up like water.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Didn’t want to steal your dad’s business.” Is Thomas Shelby being modest? “Soon enough we’ll produce 200 gallons a week.”

Time to test the waters. “Maybe I can bring some to John? I’m sure he’d like to try some.”

Thomas’ smile fades. “Knowing Esme she’ll spit it on you. You’re really going to play peacemaker, Verena?”

I step closer and feel the same energy from before I left. When I felt like I was where I belonged in the world. He needs to know he’s not traveling this beaten path alone.

“You say I am innocent. Perhaps God is calling me here to spread my positive spirit during this festive season. Your family has seen numerous tragedies, Thomas. You can’t be broken apart. You need to be mended together. That’s why I am here.”

That, and because I love you. Do I go further?

Thomas keeps looking at me as if I’m a mirage. “I can never understand how you still believe we are so righteous and can be saved. That I can be saved. Do you ever want something for yourself?”

Yes. So selfishly yes. But it’s someone I want so selfishly. There are many ways I can answer that.

I spot a clock on the wall. Patience, Steenstra. This cannot be summed up in a few minutes.

“How about we continue this when I get back from John’s tonight? We can catch up properly without any interruptions.”

Thomas wants to keep me here but he knows better than to argue. “We’ll be waiting.”

@meadows5

[whydoiluvcoffee]

alr since @thelonelydreams humbly requested, I'm making MICHEAL HOLDEN HEADCANONS BC MICHEAL HOLDEN SUPREMACY (btw im using the show micheal not book micheal):

He LOVES cheese. will drown his food in cheese. once went on a date with Tori where they had pasta. He just loaded it up with cheese (tori just casually regretting her life choices atm).

Sorta canon but he's a total dog person. just loves them and would keep some when he gets his own place.

Just starts working directly instead of going to college (in solitaire, he mentions that he has no plans of doing college).

Squirts ketchup into his mouth. like at a diner or something where he takes the squeezy bottle and just, squeezes it right into his mouth.

He's a mix of a golden retriever and an orange cat personality-wise.

Has undiagnosed audhd (was totally a gifted kid growing up but then school got hard).

Spends lots of time online on tumblr and fanfiction sites (for sherlock x watson fics)

Writes his own sherlock x watson fics and uploads them onto AO3/wattpad or smth.

The song "Wake Up" by Cheese People is definitely in his playlist.

Has repressed anger most of the time (may have tried to sh to cope with it but didn't work for him so he stopped).

Is that weirdo who loves pineapple pizza (him and tori have opposing pizza tastes).

Has seen "The Perks Of Being A Wallflower" and enjoyed it.

Would be the main character of an indie film (yk those 2000's ones with the whole vibe).

Doesn't bother with taking care of his hair (it has a soul of its own at this point since it's wild).

Didn't know how to tie a tie or his shoelaces until he was 13 or smth.

Tori, Charlie, Nick and Oliver are his found family (and nick's dogs ofc).

Cries when he gets emotional/has an anger outburst.

Climbed trees when he was younger, fell and something happened, next thing yk his eye is now blue (his heterochromia) and that eye is really weak he can't see too well from it.

Is always that one friend whose just, there, in the sidelines, not really included in anything but really wants a band of mates to call his own.

Listens to Glass Animals, Cavetown, Green Day, and just a bunch of indie and 2000's music.

Hates wearing shorts, it's a sensory issue for him tbh.

Is passively suicidal but having Tori in his life reduced that a bit or else according to him, who else would make her feel okay at times?

Becomes a professional speed skater in the future (sorta canon ig?)

Pedro Pascal and Leonardo DiCaprio were his pan awakening. In middle school, he wouldn't mind dating anyone, regardless of gender. Then later on realized that it was an actual thing called being pan and yea just a bunch of questioning before realizing ig.

Doesn't need physical intimacy in a relationship, he's fine with hugs and kisses and that stuff.

Would LOVE carnivals and their games, food, rides etc.

Likes wearing crocs, just ridiculous lime green froggie crocs. Switches them between default and "sports" mode.

hope y'all like it.

[uwu-reading-thing]

Here is a WIP Of the Madeline POV fanfiction I was talking about the other day. I did the episode I was currently on at the time. If anyone points out me spelling Michael as both Micheal and Michael I'll lose it. I know. I promise It will be fixed. 😭🙏 most of the progress I have left on this is fixing verbage or word flow and stuff like that.as well as spelling errors. (So many fucking spelling errors)

It's a great sign when you're correctness score is 54℅ and everything is 80℅ and above. 😭

It's gonna be under the cut cause according to Grammarly it's an 11 minute read. 25 if you're reading it aloud. Its almost 2.8k words. (I did not intend to write that much)

Season 5 episode 15.

I was getting ready for my date with Benny when Micheal decided to call me out of the blue. He said something about needing to tell me something. Didn't let me get a damn word in. If he did I would have told him I had a date tonight which is a lot more important to me than any spy business he needs my help with. I love Micheal. I'd do anything for him but Benny is one of the first guys I've chosen right. He's much better than that fling I had with Sam's buddy a while back. That was sweet but just a fling. He wasn't sustainable in the long run. Not like I'd want him around much longer with how much Michael couldn't mind his own during that whole thing. I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself. I don't need my son doing it for me—Benny's a lot better than Frank too, at least near the end. I loved Frank a lot at one point, oh to be young and in love. Some days I regret him. Some days I dont.

I look in the mirror and do the finishing touches on my hair. Another good thing about Benny, Micheal likes him. Or at least I hope he does. He's done a couple of double dates with him and that must count for something. I do hope Micheal likes him. It's not like I'll stop dating him if he doesn't. But it would be nice to see the boys I care about get along. As I'm putting my last earring in I hear Micheal come in.

"Whatever you're here for, Micheal, it can wait." I start walking towards Micheal trying to finish putting my last earring in. "Benny's on his way" I can't help a smile pass my lips as I think about the night out we have. "He's gonna take me to the movies" I bend over to grab my purse and leave.

"Actually, mom... It's about Benny" I hear the hesitation in his voice. He only speaks like that when there's bad news. My smile slips from my face, a million thoughts rushing through my mind.

"About Benny? What's wrong"

"The man who's blackmailing me, Anson.. He's using Benny to spy on you and us."

"What" I laugh. God this can't be true. I won't let this be true. "Michael, Don't be ridiculous."

"I'm not being ridiculous. It's true, ma. We traced a phone call."

"You're serious" Michael looks away nodding. This can't be true. He has to be lying. This is just like when he kept me away from Sam's friend. "No way. Benny isn't like that. He's not a spy."

"You're right Mom. He's not." Micheal uncrosses his arms and hands me the files. I feel stupid not noticing those in his hands before. "He's not a trained operative. But Anson is teaching him some tricks- how to spot a tail, not parking in the same space twice"

"No- see. I- um. I told Benny a lot of those crazy things that you had me do. That's probably why he's acting like this" This can't be true. Not Benny. Not another person using me for my son. My always hunted son.

"Mom, he's acting like an asset who's being run by a spy" His voice gets firmer. The truth gets harder to deny. "I have to bug his place this afternoon. So keep him at the movies Just act normal." Great. I'm being used again for my son. Except this time I'm deceiving a man I love. A man who's been deceiving me for a long while. Maybe even since the start.

I look back down at the file with photos of the man I love doing incriminating things. "You make it sound so easy."

"It is, Ma"

"It's easy for you." He doesn't get it. He doesn't get how much I care. "Ever occur to you you're wrong"

"Im not wrong" his voice is soft. Almost sorry. I want to say more to fight to argue. To tell him that he is. That Benny couldn't do it. Not the man I love. The doorbell rings before a thought finishes itself to become a sentence to retort at him. "I know this hurts you but you have to trust me on this" His voice is that soft sorry tone still.

"No. Not on this one. I'll find out the truth my own way." I walk away from him to go to the door. To go to Benny "And if you're right. I'll plant the bug myself But if you're wrong-" I open the door.

"Hi." Benny stands outside smiling with flowers.

"Hey. Benny, Hi." he hands me the flowers "Oh they're beautiful"

"For a beautiful woman." He steps inside. I look him in the eyes. An asset? What nonsense. Not my Benny. He kisses me on the cheek.

"Thank you" Micheal walks over smiling. His entire demeanor shifts. Not something I'm not used to. But something that specifically hurts now. How could you be so friendly to the man I love after asking me to betray him?

Benny turns to face him " Hello Micheal"

They shake hands "Good to see you, Benny."

"How you doing? Hey, listen you wanna join us?" I look between Micheal and Benny. Looking for something in either of their faces. Hoping for an answer. Benny just continues. " I'm not normally a fan of romantic movies but I promised your mom I would take-"

"Thanks for the invite" Micheal cuts him off before he can finish. His tone is raised slightly. He does it when he's annoyed. Others might not notice but I do. "But I have to go do something" vague. Classic Micheal.

"Oh, that sounds mysterious. What is it"

"It's me. Always working."

Benny laughs. "Okay." He pats Micheal back as he walks by and out the door.

"Have fun you two." I watch as Micheal closes the door behind him.

"You about ready" Benny places his land on my lower back.

"Yea. I just have to put these in water." He got me very beautiful flowers.

I walk away to go find a vase. He waits by the door checking the clock for time. I love this man. I trust this man. He is not a spy or an asset or whatever Micheal said he was. He's Benny. The man I know. The man I loved. I can't be wrong. I can't keep on being wrong about the men I love. I grab a vase from a cabinet and start filling it with water. How am I going to even figure out if Benny is an 'asset' anyway? I know I said I would but I don't know where to start.

"So have you planned on what movie you're taking me to see" I place the flowers on the vase and walk them to a table. Benny watches me as I do all this. Is Micheal right? Is he just watching me? Or does he love me? Or did I just start a conversation and now he's looking at me? I'm being too paranoid.

"Oh, I don't want to ruin the surprise. Are you ready to go now? We don't want to be late."

"I'm all set." I wrap my arm around Benny's as he leads me outside. He walks me to the passenger side of the car and opens it for me.

I chuckle "Oh you spoil me." I sit myself down in my seat.

"I only do it for the best, Maddie." He smiles as he closes his door and walks around to the other side.

Deep breathes. He's not an asset. He's Benny. He's the man you love. Micheal is just paranoid. And his paranoia has got me all in a tailspin. We're going to watch a movie. We are going to have a great time. He is not using me to spy on Micheal. He loves me.

"Is something wrong Maddie" I look up and see we are already on the move. I don't remember when he got into the car or when we started driving off.

"Oh. I'm just lost in my thoughts. Something Micheal said. You know how it is."

"That son of yours. Always getting more attention than me. Even on dates."

"Well, He's my son Benny. I would do anything for him. He's always my first choice." I keep my head facing forward but let my eyes flicker off to the side to see if I can read anything on his face. I don't know what I'm hoping to see it's not like he's going to say 'Really Maddie? Guess I have to admit I've been using you to get to him then.'

He smiles and then nods "I wouldn't expect anything less from a mother as loving as you. What did he say?" I wince at that question internally. Is he curious because he wants to be there for me? Or is he curious because he's here to spy on me and Micheal?

"Oh, he never gives me details. That boy and making his mother worry. It was something about someone spying on him. I told him he was just paranoid. He always is. He's the type to believe his own shadow is tailing him." I wait for some big reaction. For something I could use to prove to Micheal, that he's not an asset. Anything I could use to prove that to myself. Just a sliver of proof one way or another.

He just chuckles. His sweet caring chuckle. I hope to God Micheal is wrong.

--------

I sit outside Benny's house with a bottle of wine, pecan pie, and salmon in my passenger seat. The perfect excuse to break into my boyfriend's house and search for proof he isn't lying to me. That Micheal is wrong.

He's away from home and he shouldn't be back for a while. I put the cigarette to my lips breathing in. Letting the smoke settle my nerves. Time to prove Micheal wrong. I grab the pecan pie and salmon. Leaving the wine in case I need an excuse for one of us to go run and grab it. Once I'm at his door, I place the food down for a second grabbing the fake rock with the key in it. Once I get inside I make quick work of setting an alibi. The one thing I've learned is, If you're going behind someone's back you better have an excuse for why you're there. I set the table up for two. It's a really sweet gesture if it wasn't a lie.

I walk around the house searching for anywhere that would be a good hiding spot, making sure that anything I touch is back the way I left it. I find a locked drawer. As I grab a bobby pin from my shirt pocket I pray it's nothing. I rifle through planners, pencils, and notepads. Relieved I see nothing until an odd piece of wood on the bottom of the drawer stands out to me. I move it to discover a hole. The drawer has a false bottom. Dread inches its way across my face. No. Please don't be true. I lift it to see a file with photos and photos of Michael with Sam and Fiona. Why did he have to be right? Why did Benny have to do this to me? Why couldn't I choose a good man that doesn't put me and my son in danger?

Keys Jingle from outside. I shove the files back in and close the drawer as fast and as quietly as I can. I stand up and turn towards the door to see Benny getting back home.

"Maddy. What are you doing here?" He looks surprised to see me.

"What do you think I'm doing here? Suprising you" It hurts to lie to him. It hurts to do this.

"Well... How did you get in?" He walks up to me. He's less than a foot away. Moments ago I would have loved him to be so near. But now I'm worried he'll figure out why I am actually here.

I laugh a bit, "Benny. I mean, come on" I let a smile slip across my lips. "I stayed over a few times. That fake rock of yours doesn't fool anybody."

"Well why wouldn't you just-"

I cut him off "Why wouldn't I just make dinner for my boyfriend" I gesture towards the alibi I brought. "Salmon you're favorite. And for dessert pecan pie."

"Pecan pie? You know me too well Madd"

"Better every day, Benny" I feel the pain in the words as I say them. I know him too well now.

"Oh, I left wine in the car. Will you get it? And I'll set the table."

"Ok. You got to remind me to leave the house more often" He leans in for a kiss. As our lips touch I can't keep my eyes off him. Watching for what he's going to do next. Scared he knows something somehow.

Once he leaves the house I grab his landline and place the bug. Micheal was right. My stubborn boy was right once again.

--------

Once again I sit outside my boyfriend's house. At this point former boyfriend. MIcheal in the driver seat with the radio in hand. We both listen to the bastard who betrayed me. I keep flipping through the file of Benny Micheal had given me trying to make sense as to why he would do this.

"Ma, you don't have to do this. I'm fine sitting here by myself."

I put the paper down and cross my arms. "It's Okay, I don't care how long it takes. I planted that bug. I want to hear what he has to say. I want to know if it was all a lie"

"It's never all a lie. It's always more complicated than that" Micheal turns to look at me.

I turn away. "I thought he had feelings for me" I feel my voice quiver.

"Honestly, he probably did" I don't know if that makes me feel better or worse. It's nice to know it wasn't all fake. But heartbreaking to know he would betray me while still liking me.

"Hello" The radio crackles with Benny's voice.

"You haven't been returning my calls" The voice of a man I don't know responds. I'm assuming it's the man Micheal was talking about earlier. Anson? The one blackmailing him.

"That must be Anson on the other end" Micheal looks focused. My guess was right. Lucky me. I get to hear the conversation between the man who betrayed me and the man blackmailing my son.

"I've done everything you've asked of me" Benny's voice comes through the radio again. "When will it be enough?"

"When I say it is. You did take my money after all" Anson's voice responds. So it was for money. I wonder how much money it took to hurt me like this.

"yes. I took your money. And I feel terrible. And I'd take it all back if I could. I hurt this woman."I felt a tidbit of relief at his words. Micheal was right. It wasn't all fake. He cared about me. In some way, he cared about me. "And I'm thinking she's starting to suspect something." Oh.

"Now is not the time to panic. Do you understand"

"I understand"

"Did you get the package I sent you"

"I got the package"

"Package" curiosity fills Michael's voice. I'm guessing he didn't know about this little part of Benny and Anson's deal.

"I don't understand why I need another wireless mic. The one I have works just fine" Benny's voice rings in my ears. A mic? How long has he been micced? On all our dates? The double dates I took him on? When I'm spending the night at his house? When he was at mine. What time in our relationship wasn't under observation for this Anson guy?

Michael gets out of the car and starts running towards Benny's house.

"Mi- Michael! What's happening?"

"Yes, I'm opening it." Benny's voice rings out over the radio again.

"Michael!" I don't get what's happening. But I'm worried. Michael wouldn't leave the car unless it was important. What's with the package? What's going to happen?

*BOOM*

I gasp as Benny's house gets blown up. Benny. Oh no.

Michael turns back to look at me as I stare in horror at the smoke billowing out of his house. The package was a bomb. The man I loved is dead.

[arxxq]

WERE YOU TRYING TO FLIRT WITH ME?

i just realized i have never wrote something about kaiser except for that one headcanon....

but anyways have a micheal kaiser x reader

lowercase intended. mistakes will be corrected soon. gender not specified. 

(also to the people who have sent request stay patient please...)

micheal kaiser, the person you have always loathe. 

lets just say that kaiser, the moment he laid eyes on you chose to get on your bad side that day. so yes every day and every moment you see him you would complain. 

everytime you would always bicker with him, doesn’t matter when and where. some people would think both of you as maniacs for starting a ridiculous fight in the middle of nowhere. 

you hated him so much...but did you really? did you really hate him? most of your friends would keep asking you these question all over again everytime you mention him which of course you would say you hate him but...do you? 

the questions your friends ask always confuse you, especially this one. usually your answers would always be so straightforward and you would always be so confident in answering them. but just a simple question about him leaves you in a stuttering mess. which not only confuse your friends but you as well. 

as for kaiser, no he doesn’t hate you. he just loves to annoy you and see that annoyed expression from your face. well that was what it was as first. as time goes by, he realized that everytime he comes across you he would always try to flirt with you which is incredibly weird. 

it is shocking to him that for a person who is known smart seems so oblivious to topics like flirting. so since you never found out, he decided to continue it. you could say kaiser was lovestruck. 

as each day go by, most people took notice that instead of trying to annoy you, kaiser has been flirting with you all this time. even your friends manage to crack the case but they were so dumbfounded to see that you have been so dense with his actions. until well one day, 

your friend decided to drag you somehwere and where was that? well it was where kaiser and his teammates were practicing. you know that your friend here has a boyfriend who plays as kaiser’s teammate but then again why did she have to drag you here? it seems so pointless. 

as you were reading your book, you notice a certain blonde boy with blue tips was approaching to you direction but of course you chose to ignore him. well what a wrong choice you have made. 

kaiser snatched the book away from you and due to your height difference it was pointless to get it back. “what do you want from me now huh kaiser?” you asked. kaiser gave you his usual cocky grin. “oh nothing, i just didn't think you’d missed me this much that you’d come here,”

you stood up from your seat and sighed. “just give me my book back kaiser..” “hmm what about no..” before you can say another word, kaiser continued his sentence. “well unless you would be nice enough to answer a question of mine,”

“yeah whatever as long as you give me my book back,” you agreed to answer his question but you absolutely did not like the smirk he was giving you. he then leaned down to your ear and whispered in a low but deep voice. “how do you know if you have a crush on someone...?” that questioned stunned you alot and it may made you feel something so odd, as if butterflies were literally in you. you pushed him away from you and you let out a breathe you didn’t notice you have been holding in. 

kaiser tilted his head but grin in amusement. “oh what’s wrong...you look a little flustered dear,” you were really a flustered mess, you covered your mouth trying to process what just happened. “were you trying to flirt with me or something?” you muttered hoping he wouldn’t hear you...but he did. “oh but i have been trying to do that for months now, and it seems like you finally noticed,” 

that was enough to leave you stunned and speechless. “oi kaiser c’mon we gotta get back to practicing remember,” ness which was well kaiser’s friend yelled at him. “here’s your book back, see you tomorrow meine liebe,” 

you stood there dumbfounded of what just happened., and what’s worst was that your friend saw the whole thing happen. you were definitely going to get so many questions. 

im alive people. 

reblogs are highly appreciated 

do not steal or repost on any other platforms w/o permit

[onboardsorasora]

Wanted to do a little holiday post for these idiots in love lmao

Part 1 | Part 30 | Part 32

Part 31

Blake stood by the door, eyes narrowed on the kitchen. He looked over to Mike who was looking just as dubiously. Ok good, so he wasn’t seeing things. Daniel was in the kitchen, in a ridiculous apron and a chef’s hat– where did he even get that?

“Do you need any help mate?” Mike asked hesitantly. Because this wasn’t a normal sight. Daniel’s prowess in the kitchen tended to end at the microwave. He was stood in front of the stove, so sue them for being worried.

“Nah, like I got it mate!” Daniel grinned over at his friends. He looked back to his phone, rereading the instructions again.

“Uhm, what’s even happening here?” Blake leaned on the counter top, concerned. He pointed to the random array of ingredients scattered about the place and the empty pot that was uncomfortably close to start smoking from being on the heat for too long.

“I’m making a turkey lunch for Max.” Daniel smiled proudly, before going back to his phone. They were distracting him!

“Danny, we don’t even celebrate–”

“Yeah but I figured– I just wanna do something nice for Max.” He muttered with a shrug. They were back in LA, only for a little while. Their flight to Dubai was tonight. It was thanksgiving week and well Max had never experienced the American holiday. Neither has Daniel truly, but he had figured it would have been a nice time to celebrate together. 

Blake and Micheal looked at each other before sighing, they wouldn’t fight him for wanting to do something for Max. But maybe they could help him?

“Are you sure you don’t need help?” Blake asked again, more insistently this time.

“I think I got it, mate. I’ll just like follow this recipe.” Daniel didn’t look up from his phone, pinching his fingers on the screen to zoom in. Micheal had a bad feeling.

“...if you’re sure?” They watched as Daniel bobbed his head in a nod. “Ok we’ll be back in time to go.”

The two left, feeling very uneasy about leaving Daniel in the kitchen. Blake shot off a message to Max to keep an eye on him.

Max wandered into the kitchen area with wide eyes. He took everything in, and Daniel’s focus. We was endeared– but worried. The tone of Blake’s text wasn’t encouraging. He sat on the stool by the breakfast bar and rested his cheek in his palm.

“Hey baby!” Daniel greeted with a grin and sparkling eyes.

“Whatchya doin?” Max asked after Daniel leaned over to kiss him.

“I thought I'd make us a big lunch. Since it's like a food holiday here.” Daniel shrugged sheepishly. Max hummed.

“Have you ever like made turkey before?”

“No, but it can't be too hard right?”

Max shrugged back, along for the ride. At least if they got sick, they could push back the flight maybe. He hoped they didn't get sick.

He watched Daniel focus, chattering away when he wasn't paying close attention to his phone. Max also thought it was commendable of him when he said nothing when Daniel looked very panicked.

— - —

Max accepted the paper bag and thanked the delivery person. He plopped it gently on the breakfast bar and tore into the packaging while Daniel dropped the blackened seemingly still smoking turkey into the garbage. His apron was stained and a little charred and they both had learned how to turn off the smoke detector.

The small turkey didn't survive anything. It had burned on the outside and when Daniel tried to cut it to see if it was ok on the inside, they had found out that the bird was still very frozen. They had both collapsed to the floor in laughter. Eyes red and chests heaving. Then in that chaos, the water from the potatoes boiled out and the taters were also scorched. 

The only thing that was salvageable was the salad and they both had agreed that they weren’t going to waste a cheat day on a salad.

“Thank you Maxy.” Daniel called, packing the dishwasher while Max took out their food and plated it in the place Daniel had pre-prepared. Daniel plopped heavily onto the chair just as Max placed his plate down. He smiled at his boyfriend happily. So maybe things didn’t go according to plan, but he was still thankful that Max was in his life.

[bumblepony]

Okay, it's getting colder here and I need warm thoughts. I demand you share with me three Tommy/Maria autumnal headcanons.

(I demand politely with hat in hand). xx

Oh this is a lovely one and strangely enough one I've thought about. I'm actually going to give you six as a bonus. Three Canon verse HC and Three no apocalypse verse HC.

No Apocalypse Verse

1. Tommy is a huge apple cider fan—all things apple cider, the drink, the donuts, the scent. If it's fall, it's apple cider. Maria is a Pumpkin Spice girl. Fall is all things PS all the time. There are wars in the T/M household on what is better. Tommy once spent a week on the couch when he changed out all the candles in the house to apple-scented candles when Maria wasn't looking. Maria once had to buy Tommy two jugs of apple cider when she changed his Starbucks order to a PSL on the app instead of an apple cider macchiato as a joke.

2. They love fall foliage tours. They've been up to the Adirondack every year to take the train ride that goes through the mountains. They are major leaf peepers, and it drives Joel crazy because every year, they try to get him and Tess to go. Joel could care less about the turning of the leaves, and Tess could care less too, honestly, but she loves to fuck with Joel, so she'll set them up to go just to drive him crazy.

3. Once they have their first son Mateo, who just so happens to have been born in the fall, (which was not in any way orchestrated by Maria keeping meticulous track of her cycles so she could make sure when the best moment for conception would be) they do a photoshoot of him in a pumpkin each year. Then, when they have their daughter Tilly (also born in the fall, hmmm, Tommy's starting to ask questions), the tradition continues. By the time little Solana is born also in the fall (okay Maria this is gettin' ridiculous darlin' how did I not notice you were doin' this.) It's a whole thing: baby, toddler, and kid in a pumpkin. It's getting harder and harder to find big enough pumpkins. When the kids are all grown up, they get together to do a joke photoshoot of a reenactment of their first group photo as kids for Tommy and Maria's anniversary gift. Tommy laughs so hard he snots whiskey out of his nose. Maria laughs too but she also gets Teary-Eyed at seeing all her babies so grown up. It goes on the living room wall in a place of honor and never comes down.

Canon Verse

1. Maria is the one doing all the fall activities in Jackson, she loves it, it's one of her favorite times of year. When Tommy comes along he wholeheartedly throws himself in as well. It's actually how they end up falling in love. One late night while Tommy is helping her get the sting lights up for the fall dance, he turns them on and she looks so beautiful in the glowing bulbs that he can't help but tell her and then fate is set.

2. Tommy hates Halloween, always has. Part of it could be the time he snuck down to watch the Halloween movie from the stairs when he was 8 years old, and his big brother, at 13, was watching the movie with his then-friend Shawna, who he very much wanted to be his girlfriend in hopes that she would cuddle close to him during the jump scares. She did, and they were blissfully together for a whole week; Joel even got his first French kiss from it. But all Tommy got was nightmares about Micheal Meyers trying to break into his house on Halloween to kill him and his family. So yeah, Tommy doesn't like Halloween. But every year, he sucks it up and puts on the brave Uncle Tommy face and the goofiest of costumes to make first Sarah happy and then Ellie 20 years later. Because that's what good uncles do. Maria knows, though, and she does everything she can to try and make the holiday as stress-free as she can for him. They have no decorations inside the house, and what they do have outside is the bare minimum, and it's all silly, not scary.

3. Tommy and Maria still love the fall foliage. Their favorite thing to do is to sit outside on their porch in Jackson, Tommy siping his hot apple cider and Maria siping her PS coffee that she makes herself, and they watch the seasons change. Both of them are secretly happy that their little community ended up in a part of the US that has the change of the seasons. On beautiful fall days, Tommy likes to take Maria outside of Jackson into the woods with all the leaves, and they pile them up and dance in them. Ellie lets them borrow her walkmen so they can each put one headphone in one ear each and listen to the music as they sway together.

[nerdthatsiriuslylovesteaxx]

Helpless Part 17 sorry for not posting yesterday

“So, di Angelo."

"I'm hopeless aren't I?"

"I mean there's still hope, you just need to not mess up.”

“I’m not good at that.”

“Luckily for you there’s motivation.”

“What?”

“You can’t lie until you and Nico kiss."

"WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK!"

"Calm down, what are you hiding anyways Solace."

"When I heal people I feel all their pain, I almost killed myself, I'm useless, I'm hopelessly in love with someone who is halfway to death, I glow in the dark, I'm only alive on necter and ambrosia, I would kill every single Demeter kid right now if I could, I pass out really often but I can feel it before hand so I hide in my office when it's about to happen so no one knows. Fuck. Shit." Will ran towards the forest with tears in his eyes but Piper ran after him,

"Wait." Piper charmspoke when they were in the middle of the forest, it was dangerous but neither of them cared in that moment.

"Oh fuck you, leave me alone."

"Will-"

"If you tell anybody a word of what I said I swear to Apollo I will rip you apart limb for limb McLean." Piper shivered, Will couldn't lie...

"Breathe. In and out, I'm going to unpack a bit of what you said alright? If it's too much tell and I'll stop." Will just nodded barely breathing as Piper sat down beside him, "You feel everyone's pain when you heal them?"

"It's a trade off, if people knew they wouldn't let me heal everyone."

"Doesn't that mean you're almost constantly in pain?"

"It's worth it."

"What do you feel right now?"

"Broken rib, last time I healed Nico. I mean I feel other things from a week ago but they all would have healed a bit by now so it's not as bad. I've been on painkillers anyways, practically high on them at this point."

"That's-"

"-not heathly, I'm fully aware but I don't give two fucks."

"Alright, you tried to kill yourself? Why? Are you alright?"

"After the Manhattan battle, Michael and Lee... I was on the bridge but I met someone there. We convinced each other to not jump, I realised I couldn't leave Kay and Austin alone. They lost two older brothers in the war, they wouldn't be losing a third. I still sometimes wish I'd done it, but they can't be alone."

"Will, show me your wrists."

"No, fuck off."

"Will-"

"Don't act like you fvcking care, leave me alone."

"Will, I care. I just want to make sure you're okay, don't make me charmspeak you."

"Fine." Will muttered in tears, rolling up the sleeves of his hoodie. His arms were covered in shallow, red, cuts, Piper counted 14 on one arm and 17 on the other. She pulled the crying boy into a hug,

"I'm here for you."

"I feel so useless, I've never been on a quest, I can barely fight, I'm not half as good of a healer as Micheal was. Everyone would be better off without me, the Demeter kids agree."

"Never say that again okay? Almost all of camp would be dead without you."

"I couldn't save them, it's my fault."

"You still saved all those people; you didn't kill anyone Will."

"I didn't help them either, it's my fault they died."

"No it's not, you tried to save them."

"But I didn't."

"You can't save everyone, some people are too close to dying."

"I should have saved them."

"It's impossible to save everyone, some people are too close to death."

"Micheal could have done it."

"People die Will, death is a part of existence. You can't delay every death, it's not your fault."

"It's the only good thing about me, healing people. If I can't do that well enough what's the point of me living?"

"William Andrew Solace listen to me, you can't save everyone. Even then you're worth more than your power, clearly considering I've had twelve people come to me asking how to make you like them. You're cool, funny, loyal, ridiculously smart as in smarter than half the Athena cabin, and you actually genuinely care about everyone."

"It's just, when they die on my watch. I feel like I killed them." A few second's of silence passed,

"When was the last time you cut?" Piper asked with caution not trying to upset Will any more then he already was.

"Two days ago, when I thought Nico might not make it. The thought of him dying, fuck." A tear rolled down his face and he pulled away from the daughter of Aphrodite.

"I'm going to find you a therapist okay? Do you think that'll help?"

"Yes, but I'm too scared to open up to people. Fvcking curse, I really want to punch Lou Ellen right now."

"I'll find someone that can help."

"Thank you."

"Do you want to talk more or is it too much?"

"Too much."

"Alright, just one thing."

"Yeah?"

"Nico's halfway to death?"

"Yes, I want to lock him in the infirmary because I don't know how much longer he'll last with the amount he's eating and drinking."

"Shit."

"Weren't you meant to be giving me advice on how I can get him to like me?" Trying to change the topic, he wasn't exactly meant to be telling people this stuff.

"Oh rightttt that's what I was meant to be doing."

"I'm slightly more hopeful then I was a week ago, at least now I know he's gay."

"Who told you?" Piper asked reaching for her dagger,

"Nico...? We were playing twenty questions and I asked him if he was straight."

"Ohhh okay, so I don't need to kill anyone."

"I don't think so...?"

"Great, so Nico di Angelo, son of Hades. I think... show him you care but don't worry about him too much, honestly just be normal with him, he doesn't get that from most people. The most important thing, give him space but don't let him push you away, he does that a lot."

"Thanks McLean."

"It's my job." Piper said, messing up his hair.

"You said twelve people came to you trying to date me, who exactly were they?"

"Well it's meant to be confidential, but one of them was Leo when he first met you. Don't tell him told you, he will kill me."

"Leo Valdez? That's unexpected."

"The more you know Solace, the more you know. Anyways I should probably go, me and Annabeth are dying Percy's hair red."

"What?!"

"He's the little mermaid so naturally we're kidnapping him and dying his hair red."

"Well I wish you luck and I can't wait to see red-head Percy."

***

[randomfandom-3]

@honeii-puff. The story!!

ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕚𝕔𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕪 

        If you were to walk down the monotone streets this late, there were many things that would stand out as abnormal, the way the breeze almost whispers, the calm, still, icy waters of the barge below the arched bridge, the way even the leaves seem to freeze when in company. The cool night air is stale in the small town of Port Nickiloly, it was a normal cold and quiet night. well, except for the sound of two hollow gunshots ringing through the stale air.

        Around eight (8) am, only an hour after the sun rose the next day, the detective agency’s phone was ringing off the hook with calls from the police station. They were a well known agency, but this was ridiculous. Upon entering the office, Micheal Caddwell was met with a stressed intern, messy dirty blonde hair. Hm, who the- oh the intern. Philip, right? The short one. He wonders before inquiring about the rushed behavior.

      “Where on earth have you been?!” Philip questions angrily, but is met with a nonchalant wave.

       “I was getting coffee.”

        "These cases are stacking up! Your slacking off-”

            “Philip, philip. Calm down. It's not a big deal. Just give me the most important case, I'll head out… After coffee.” Philip thinks he just might punch him.

          Micheal and the case manager arrive at the scene, an uptown three story manor, white paint with trimming on the edges,with small gold accents here and there, it would've been gorgeous if it wasn't for the blue and red lights flashing, or the bright yellow crime scene tape blocking off the gate.

         Micheal makes his way through the crowds of police men taking statements, and the crime scene investigators bagging things. He steps inside the house, cops following him.

        It looked straight out of a movie, high ceilings with fancy lighting, a curved white wood staircase, with a curved banister michael would have loved to slide down had the circumstances been different, the walls were white with gold trimming at the top, and the coffee table of glass, though it had been smashed by what should  have had michaels attention. The body of Mrs.Dima was on top of the pile of glass, eyes glossed over, a pistol shot wound on her forehead, her head against a dark brown grandfather clock, a hole through the face, locking the time at 11:23. Micheal takes one look at the body, his green eyes landing on the wound. He briefly examines the body, taking in the room more than anything. He kneels beside the body, with about two feet away from it, before he picks up a piece of the broken glass from his table, dropping it as he nicks himself on the edge, a dark crimson covering the dull pink scratch.

“What a waste of a good room…” he mumbles briefly before rising to his feet, taking a small step closer, the glass crunching beneath his loafers. It's not hard to tell he has everyones eyes on him, he had a reputation, they knew the case was over. He moves closer to the body, before turning to the nearby investigations division's supervisor.

“Husband shot her. He keeps a pistol in the house, does he not? He shot his wife around 10:00 and later staged a break in, breaking the windows from the outside.”

And so it was. The revolver morphed to a pistol in the evidence bag, the bullet hole alters itself to match the bullets from her husband's pistol, the pistol itself melting away upstairs in the safe, the clock hands moving themselves, 10:00, and even the very thoughts and memories in the witnesses head alter, the husband remembers shooting her from behind the couch,watching her fall onto the table, and placing the gun on the once pristine couch, and going outside, to break the window, and stage a break in.

“And that's how that's done.” he walks out the large white wooden door, trying his hardest to ignore the tangy metallic smell of blood leaking from the room, it was easier that way. The less he noticed the smell, the lifeless eyes, the easier the job.

Micheal makes his way to the slick plain black work issued car, setting himself in the passenger's seat, taking in the smell of the pine wood air freshener, before opening the messy glove box, papers fall, but he ignores them and sifts through the mess and pulls out a small red box, as he opens it the strong smell of rubbing alcohol makes him half gag as he pulls out a small pack of wipes, cleaning the blood on his hand before putting a bandaid on it.

When the case manager  arrived, they left the scene, Michael stared out the window at the busy streets, the entire drive was silent. When he gets back, Philip once again assigns him cases, of course he gets back in at most thirty minutes, spending most of his day out at each house, announcing a cause of death, until the sun sets. He leaves his office as it always is, papers scattered on his desk, a empty mug, and the daft smell of chocolate, and he ends the night as he always does, the click of his office lock, he walks down the creaky oak stairs,  walking through the still hectic lobby, the noises echoing through the sage green walls, ricocheting off the white curved ceiling, and the sound of shoes clacking against the once white tiles.

The next day he returns to work, once again met with rushed and frantic cases from Philip, he sighs and stops to listen to whatever he's ranting about, a bit interested in whatever's got him so worked up, though he wouldn't admit it.

“Right then, it's early,” he motions for Philip to walk with him. “What's this about?” The man follows his pace.

“Well, you have a new case, they need help as soon as possible, and if you had got here on time-” he declares, agitated, before being cut off.

“What makes this case worth my time, my morning time?”

“It's Mr. Johansen. He was shot.”

He's much more alert on the ride to the scene, as they make unfamiliar turns down the smooth paved road, into the gated, and armed, neighborhood.

Mr. Johanson..? How the…? A sniper, I bet. The voice in his head reasons, as they go drive into the neighborhood, he hasnt had to come here, after all it's not everyday the mayor is shot dead in his house.

They arrive at the manor, two stories, modest, the light blue paint peeling, the air smelled of gunpowder and what was almost like burning.

As he steps over the threshold of the house, the smell is stronger, he steps through the living room, though the house belongs to a dead man he still feels he should have wiped his feet at the door, when he saw the white carpeting leading to the kitchen.

The kitchen catches him by surprise, as  he observes the body of the mayor, slumped to the ground against the counter by his sink, he immediately notices why the place had smelt burnt, a small pot left on the stove, blackened food, practically ash. Micheal turns his attention back to the mayor, he could almost believe he was asleep, had it not been for the small trickle of blood from the back of his head. He looks around the room briefly, broken glass from the window behind the table, glistening in the light as the sun begins to rise at last. He turns to the case supervisor, and makes the obvious assumption.

“Hired hit. Sniper from a roof behind him.” as he speaks, the other detective and a cop look at each other before the detective speaks up.

“With all due respect sir, how? The house is more of a diagonal, it wouldn't be possible for him to make a straight bullet through the window." The whole room seems to go silent, the sound of the wall clock ticks heavy and hollow in michaels ears. Impossible. The word rang through his ears, he was never wrong, and he was about to say as such, when his phone started ringing, he picks it up, and is met with a barrage of complaints from philip, michael guesses he found out about the case files hed hid in his desk because he didn't want to do them, though he wasnt mad about the excuse to leave.

“Right well, you get me the weapon, I'll return later. I'm needed at the office.” he leaves the room, motioning for his supervisor to follow. He gets in the passenger seat of the car, per usual, and remains entirely silent throughout the drive back to the agency.

He walks into the lobby, ignoring the loud buzz, and walks past Philip, ignoring the lecture he's giving him, and heading straight to his office.

Has it always been this messy? The air feels stale, I should open a window…  his thoughts are moving almost as much as he is as he moves over the window by his desk, opening it to breathe in the air, but even that felt off. Nothing felt right, the room felt small, the air felt too dry, it felt too moist, it just felt off. He couldn't stop pacing, rubbing small circles into the bone of his wrist with his other thumb.  He snapped out of his jumbled thoughts by a loud knocking on the door, he knew before he even opened the door that it was Philip, probably here to bother him about the cases. He opens it anyway. Philip walks in without a word, setting a pile on the messy desk.

“You need to make sure that these-” he notices that Michael is overly fidgety. “Right. What's wrong? Is this about the buzz about this case?” Word had spread fast, they both knew it, though Philip did not understand why it was a big deal.

“I shouldn't have been wrong.” micheal says after a beat. Philip rolls his eyes.

“You had a bad day, everyone does.”

“Not me. I don't.” micheal states, his breath still sort of shaky.

“Okay, this is clearly bothering you,you need to breathe. Inhale exhale.” Michael hates being told what to do, but he obliges, slowing his breathing, when Philip notices he's calmer, he speaks.

“And you might not wanna hear it, but you need to suck it up. You aren't perfect, you aren't  flawless, you made one mistake, you're still the smartest guy I know. Breathe. You just might have to actually think about this one.”

“I tried. It just doesn't make sense.”

“You haven't even got evidence files yet, michael. You're expecting too much of yourself. You can't keep yourself calm long enough to understand you need assistance.” and with that, he leaves, leaving micheal to ponder his words.

The next morning, he has one assignment, to go get the evidence. He thinks about bringing philip. He  walks silently, thinking about whether he should or shouldn't, once he's a few steps past the front desk, he hollers to him.

“You! Hey! You're coming with us.” he walks over, and grabs gently by the cuff of his sleeve, leading him to the car. He sits in the backseat, behind the passenger's seat, gently pushing Philip into the seat beside him, the case supervisor following shortly after.

The rest of the day was uneventful, they arrived at the police station, looked over evidence, micheal making a file of evidence, and philip occasionally calming him.

The next few days go the same, though Michael spends more time in his office,and Philip is taking less calls. Micheal thinks this has to be the best way to work. Occasionally Philip comes up with drinks, snacks, and helps him go over the case, before he has to head back down stairs, though he did learn some things about philip, he's always enjoyed writing, horror usually,he has 2 sisters, and has always wanted to visit paris and that he has green eyes, and that they only seem brown in the dim light. The latter wasn't important, but Michael thought it was neat.

About 5 days into the case, in the middle of silently pondering with Philip, sipping hot chocolate, he sits up a bit straighter and turns to him.

“I know who did it.” The words hung still in the air, but Michael didn't notice, the silence didn't feel awkward, it never did with philip.

He quickly reorganizes the files, before rushing down the stairs, Philip walking behind him.

In 2 weeks time they both sat in the courthouse, for the trial of Ms. Johansen, on trial for the murder of her husband. The trial was over quick, an immense amount of evidence persuaded the jury, they won.

The next day the phone rings off the hook, global calls, global cases, when philip excitedly informs him that his name is known, setting down the pile of files , he grabs a file from the middle of the pile.

“Well, are you up for a trip to paris?”

[nyxnygma]

hi! could you write something with Michael Monroe? possibly with y/n as a metal/rock musician :) thank you 🫶

Love for Music || Micheal Monroe

[michael monroe x gn!reader]

Summary: Micheal supports his partner at their gig

Warnings: Alchol consumption, sought of sexual innuendo

Masterlist

A/N: two months late as usual. This is really bad I’m so so sorry. You can see where I was inspired by motley crue

Michael arrived at the venue along with the rest of his band. Tonight you and your band (Matricide) were preforming in a club where most of the leading English bands in the world started out . The both of you have been almost inseparable ever since Razzle introduced you both.

He separated from his friends to go find you backstage like he usually does.

“I’m glad you made it!” you greet as you spot the blonde enter the fire exit to the backstage room.

He smiled and pulled you into a tight hug, “I’m happy to be here. When do you have to be on?”

“Erm,” you looked across the room to the smashed clock on the wall. You cringed.

“about twenty-five minutes ago,” your lead singer, Pixie, huffed annoyed, “now he’s here can we go?”

Micheal chuckled, “You were waiting for me?”

“Course she was!” Your drummer laughed, obviously already drunk, “she’s in love with you, blondie.”

“Fuck off” you rolled yours eyes. He laughed again before leaning down to kiss you.

“I’ll be in the crowd,” he winked.

Michael approached his friends at the bar to witness the end of what seemed to be Nasty and Razzle making fun of Michael and you.

“Oh Mikey! I love you so much!” Razzle flailed his arms around nasty’s neck. Sami cackled loudly.

“Sä oot ihaninta mitä mulle on tapahtunut,” Nasty flung his head back dramatically. Razzle didn’t know what it meant but he still found it stupidly hilarious.

“You two make a cute couple,” Michael huffed.

“We definitely would,” Nasty twirled a strand of Razzle’s hair whilst fluttering his eyelids. Sami’s drink came out of his nose from laughing so hard and the pair’s antics.

Micheal rolled his eyes, “When have you ever heard me say something like that?”

“Oh please you always talk like that to her,” Andy chuckled.

Before Micheal could say anything else, they heard the cheering of the crowd and turn round to see the band run onto the stage.

“Time to fight to front,” Sami shrugged.

The music was loud as ever as you tap your feet to the beat to stay in rhythm, occasionally head banging and jumping on the flimsy stage. The boys cheered and occasionally sang along in the dancing crowd and you smiled at them every chance you got.

The audience cheered and screamed loudly during your bass solo where Pixie held a bottle of Smirnoff to your mouth as you drank. Just as the singer moved the empty bottle you looked at your boyfriend and winked.

During the ten minute break you quickly ran down the stage and wasted no typed in wrapping your arms around Michael’s neck and pulling him into a deep starving kiss. He moved his hands down to hold your waist to pull you impossibly close to him.

Your lips separated and you admired the man before you’s lipstick smeared lips. When he caught his breath he asked “What was that for?”

“You just looked so beautiful from up there,” you answered with a mischievous grin, “and the vibrations of playing does stuff to me.”

“I love you,” Micheal said to you for the first time.

You smiled even wider and kissed his cheek, “I love you too, pretty boy.”

Andy whistled loudly bringing your attention to Razzle and Nasty making kissy faces. “Awww ain’t this lovely,” Sami teased, “your both too cute.”

Before you could reply to the boys ridiculous jokes you noticed your manager on the steps of the stage. “Ah shit. I gotta get back up there.”

And with that you ran through the audience and up to the rest of the band getting ready to begin the second set.

[daringtiger-creates]

Another GO story idea

So, been watching fairytale movies for old times sake and recently read another Cinderella AU story and just thought “I wonder that I could do”. As it’s been plainly noted, I suck at writing, especially with Crowley and Aziraphale, but I get ideas nonetheless. I’ve already started writing down a skeleton for the story, but I think it’d be kinda fun to write it with someone and bounce more ideas together. Anyhow, here’s just a little teaser of ideas. I’ll post more tomorrow:

- Crowley is a rebellious prince. As a teen, he runs away quite frequently whether just because or he is upset. He does not wish to be king one day. His father, King Lucian, was a fierce but kind ruler in his own way. He loved his 3 children very much, but rarely ever showed it after the queen died after giving birth to Warlock (who was born the same day as Adam. They were switched after the babies were born during an attempted kidnapping, but a story for another time)

- Crowley was a middle child, Beelzebub the oldest and should be the rightful heir to the throne, but ze had fallen ill once and ever since fell ill quite easily, especially during the winter. Until whatever ailment ze fallen into can be cured, Crowley was fated to rule in zer place. King Lucian was harder on Crowley than he was on Beelzebub, sometimes too hard which caused most of the attempted escapes. In all honesty, the king was afraid especially for Crowley. He knew of Crowley’s attraction wasn’t just towards women, but favored men as well. Crowley never admitted to his sexuality nor has ever shown favor to anyone except once. However, the king saw it in the way Crowley admired and looked upon certain beings and he did not want his son to be ridiculed nor shamed.

- Aziraphale is a Dutchess’s son. His father passed away during one of his travels when he was an infant. His mother remarried a man named Sandalphon during one of her own travels.

-His mother passed away from an unknown sickness. Aziraphale’s new step father and step siblings (Micheal and Uriel) had left him alone for a time aside from being removed from his room and shoved into the attic. It wasn’t until Aziraphale became 10 that he was slowly becoming more of a servant and less like young Duke.

- 2 years after his mother’s death, his Uncle Gabriel (Sandalphon’s younger brother) moves in with them and helps ready his step sisters to become young proper ladies. He also helped keep the home afloat. Gabriel mainly ignores Aziraphale, only lecturing him on his gut and his new duties. He only lashed out at the boy after discovering his “fancy” with boys. Gabriel becomes harsher after that.

- Aziraphale was often sent to town with a young delivery boy named Newton who was the closest and only neighbor he had. Newt also slipped Aziraphale information and homework given to him by his old tutor and old family friend, Madame Tracy. She was fired by Sandalphon once his mother died, but she loved the boy too much to stop and did everything she could to help him.

[nerdby]

Hollywood has got to start asking for background checks on actors and hiring on-set mental health professionals cause everything happening with Jonathan Majors and Tenoch Huerta is freaking ridiculous.

I'm tired of seeing this shit and I'm even more tired of hearing about child stars being abused and ending up having complete mental breakdowns like Brittany Spears or Micheal Jackson or the horror stories you Jeannette McCurdy wrote. These stories are more common than you'd think, and it is always always always the kids being villainized. No one stops to ask what their parents were doing that could have contributed to the situation.

And, yes, I am 1000% more concerned with the safety and mental health of child actors than I am with some random who could be lying through their teeth, making false accusations, or is just as abusive as the person they're vilifying just like with Johnny Depp and Amber Herd. I don't agree with anything Johnny did -- I think he's a shit person, but I think Amber Herd is also a shit person who probably provoked him.

They're both shitty human beings and I'm gonna say this again cause I know that if I don't I'll catch hell from the radfems on this app: I am a domestic abuse and rape survivor. Which is absolute fucking bullshit --

I should NOT be forced to relive my trauma just because I refuse to buy into gender essentialism bullshit that women are incapable of being abusers and men are pure evil.

I am so fucking disappointed with Marvel and I just don't give a shit. I don't care if Jonathan Majors gets recast. He is amazing as Kang, but personally I'd be more upset to be Tenoch go and I'm going to be so pissed off if these accusations are true because Namor is one of my favorite lesser known Marvel characters. And if the character gets written out of the MCU because of this shit, I'm gonna scream. Not just cause I love the character but also because I love that they're using Namor to address the issues of colonialism and intersectionality and racial tensions in BIPOC communities. That's cause I'm just really passionate about the Civil Rights Movement.

I don't know but I'm really upset right now.

[averagejoesolomon]

Hey! Would you guys be interested in this, per chance? A new chapter of Full Circle? Featuring Abby and Matt and a much-needed confession? Yeah? Yes? Here you go! If you're new here, you can read Full Circle from the beginning on ao3.

Chapter Eight

There ain’t many people who can surprise Matt nowadays.

Joe’s the reason Matt learned how to spot a surprise to begin with, because Joe is built from the kind of unpredictability most people never see in a single lifetime. Aside from the overt lessons he passes on, Joe’s also responsible for a subtle series of accidental lessons, each one stacked on top of the last, about what it truly means for Matt to share his life with spies. Loving Joe is an uncertain sort of thing. Loving Joe is a waiting game. For all of the surprises they’ve already lived through together, Matt just knows that Joe has plenty more to come.

Then there’s Abby, whose sole purpose in life seems to be untangling the knot of impulse that sits at the undefined center of her gut. Abby is spontaneity, and instinct, and split-second decisions. Abby is a flight to Paris, just for a fresh croissant. Matt suspects she surprises herself just as much as she surprises him, but he doesn’t mind. It’s the kind of thing that keeps her alive.

On the opposite end of the same spectrum, Rachel’s surprises are quiet, demure acts of depth that he can never anticipate until she’s already got him fully pinned beneath one. She is the master of deliberate, calculated gambits that leave him in absolute awe and to witness Rachel in a moment of fulfilled strategy is to witness an act of God at work.

And now, interestingly, Micheal manages a surprise of his own.

It strikes Matt as clumsy and uncoordinated jab, considering the caliber of surprise he normally stumbles into. There’s too much effort in the words, saturated by a sense of mutilated glee. In Matt’s world, surprises are dangerous, potentially deadly ordeals and his usual company tends to treat them with the appropriate grimness. Not Micheal. There’s a confidence in Michael’s shoulders and a grin at the corner of his mouth, both of which make it all too clear that this world of ridiculous high society picnics is fueled by a twist of shock wielded in just the right way.

The least Matt can do is play along. “Weird,” he says. “It’s just that Rachel never mentioned an engagement. Never mentioned you at all, actually.”

This knocks the grin from Michael’s face, but unfortunately, he regains his composure too quickly for Matt to properly enjoy its loss. “That’s a shame,” he says. “Although it does make sense—she was pretty heartbroken when I called the whole thing off. She always did say she needed me.”

Rachel Cameron has never needed anyone and Matt opens his mouth to say so, but before he can get a word out, there’s another surprise tapping along his shoulder. He turns to find Abby, all done up and beautiful against and early spring evening, and she smiles at him as though she’s not surprised one bit. “I’ve been saving a dance for you,” she says, holding a hand out to him. “This is your chance to ask for it.”

He knows Abby well enough to understand that she knows him right back. She knows his expressions and his gestures. She knows his hometown and his cover legends. Matt has spent years hiding behind piles of phony passports and fabricated paper trails, but even after all of that, Abby can still pull him straight back to the surface of his own skin. There are unspoken words waiting behind her graceful smile and for the first time since Texas, Matt gets the sense that Abby might know him better than he knows himself.

Matt steals one more glance at Michael, but Abby takes his hand in hers. A warm, buzzing excitement stretches through his fingers, his wrist, his arm, and this battle was over before it even began. “Abigail Cameron,” he concedes, “will you dance with me?”

Her shrug is outlined by delight, and a wistful sigh tumbles through her smile. “If you insist,” she says, already starting toward the center of the garden. “I couldn’t stand to disappoint you, Matt.”

This is the kind of confession that comes effortlessly to her, meanwhile Matt’s had the same confession on his mind since that very first day of training and has never been able to dig it out of the stubborn parts of his chest. He adores that about her—adores the way she exists without apprehension or apology. Abigail Cameron might just be the only spy Matt knows who doesn’t have any secrets. Not any that matter, anyway. One look, one conversation, one moment is all it takes to know exactly what she’s about.

She guides him toward a stone dance floor, one earth-eaten paver after another, and Matt gets to thinking about how it’s high time he follow her lead.

The orchestra is well into their set by now, stings warm, and smooth, and easy. With a slow and simple smile, she steadies her stance against his, and after all these years, she’s finally convinced him to dance with her. “If I didn’t know better,” she says, words wrapped in the edge of a whisper, “I’d say you and Micheal were becoming fast friends.”

Her free hand falls to his shoulder, easing it down from a tension he doesn’t recognize until it’s leveraged out of him. He doesn’t remember when his own hands landed along her hips, but he’s there. And she’s there. It’s the two of them, and urgency coils around the core of Matt’s thoughts. “But you do know better.”

She looks up at him with that same smile she always does—a smile he’s always known he would move mountains for. “I know you,” she says. “And from experience, I know what it looks like when you’re about to bash someone’s head into a half-melted ice sculpture.”

He falls into step with her. “That was one time.”

She leads without question. “I remember.”

“My cover was already blown.”

“I remember that, too.”

“I wouldn’t do that here.”

Skepticism is a rare look on Abby. Matt can spot it on Rachel from a mile away, pulled from a constant source of doubt and distrust that sits somewhere inside of her. But Abby ain’t much for doubt and she only wrangles it when she really means it.

Something in Matt’s chest deflates at the certainty of it. “I wouldn’t blow your cover. Not here. Not with these people.” The promise hangs heavier than he intends, because he could have sworn it already went unspoken between them. “I wouldn’t do that.”

Abby just nods, light as ever. “I know you think that.”

She borders on hurtful, now, calling his character into question. He wonders what his pops would have to say about it. What his mama would say. “You really think I would risk your whole life here?”

“I think,” she says, pulling herself closer as the two waltz across flagstone, “that you’ve had a long couple of days, wrapped up in a long couple of weeks, wrapped up in a very long couple of years.” There’s no way Abby could know just how long the past couple of years have been, with missions run in duplicate and triplicate across the globe, tracing down dead end leads and covering every track he’s left behind, from both good guys and bad. But the sisters have always had a way of knowing the things they shouldn’t. “And that you wouldn’t be the first person to lose their cool around Michael.”

They’re in the middle of two dances, now—one set to the sound of strings, and another hiding in the back-and-forth trill of their voices. He’s not sure when he started keeping secrets from Abby. Probably around the same time he started keeping secrets for Joe. Whatever the case, it sends him sidestepping into safer territory. “You’re talking about Rachel?”

She glances up at him, spotting his stumble. “You’re talking about Rachel,” she notices, with that studious glance she usually saves for overseas ambassadors or double-talking senators. “Why are you asking about Michael and Rachel?”

Somehow, this doesn’t seem any safer. “Just business.”

“I see,” she says. “And it doesn’t have anything to do with Micheal mentioning their engagement, does it?”

She really does seem to know everything. “How did you hear that?”

“I didn’t have to,” she says “You just confirmed it.”

Only then does he realize Abby is leading their second dance, too. “One of these days, I’ll stop falling for that trick.”

With two, friendly taps on his shoulder, she cracks a soft smile. “Nice to know it still works on you for now, though.” Then, with a certainty only she could muster, “Don’t waste your time on Michael. He didn’t take anything from the office.”

They’ve made their first full rotation across the floor, and Matt lands right where he started. Over Abby’s shoulder, he can still spot Michael, huffing away at a cigar with a thick, blue ribbon wrapped around its center. “I’m not so sure.”

Abby pops up onto her toes to intercept his eyeline. “Why?” she asks, although it don’t sound like much of a question. “Because you don’t like him?”

He knocks her back town onto her heels. “I like him plenty—I like everyone,” he says. “Why wouldn’t I like him?”

“I can think of at least one reason.”

She lets her hand fall from his shoulder and he’s trained well enough to know that she intends to spin out into the crowd. Matt extends the arm that still holds her, and lets her linger, very briefly, in the beauty of a lavish gown spun into a flourish of fabric. But soon enough, her words catch in his ears, and their two dances finally overlap when he pulls back into his arms. “What do you mean?” he says. “What reason?”

He should already know the answer to this, at least according to the look Abby gives him. She chooses not to dignify his question with an answer, and instead, starts with another all her own. “Why did you tell Rachel you weren’t in Texas?”

It doesn’t seem very fair, that she gets to change the beat, tone, and tempo of their conversation, and all he can do is follow. “Because I wasn’t in Texas.”

“Why are you telling me you weren’t in Texas?

“Because I really, truly, honestly was not in Texas.”

“Really, truly, honestly,” she echoes. “The words of an honest man, if I’ve ever heard them.”

He’s never had this kind of conversation with Abby before, wandering in every direction, looking for a place to land. It used to be that she was safe. It used to be that he could tell her everything, ask her anything, and joke the whole way through. He wonders what must have changed, and then he wonders how he can change it back.

With an effort to settle back into a steady pace, Matt looks down at her and returns to the question at hand. “Why wouldn’t I like Michael?”

Abby allows this, for now. “Because Michael likes Rachel.”

“Why wouldn’t I like people who like Rachel?” he says. “Rachel’s very likable.”

“Lovable, some might even say.”

Something about the words feel less like an observation between friends and more like a trap set for a neighborhood fox, just outside the chicken coop. He keeps his steps cautious when he says, “I reckon some people might, yeah.” When nothing seems to snap shut around his ankle, he goes on. “But what's that got to do with Michael?”

“Not much,” she says, with all the fervor of a foxhound. “But I think it might have everything to do with Rachel.”

And there’s that name again, the only constant throughout the entire conversation. There’s a code a work, and Rachel’s name is the only thing that can decipher it, but he can’t, for the life of him, imagine where Abby wants him to start. He turns this over, and over, and over again in his head, trying to think up some way to work through it before she does, until it becomes plainly obvious that trying to outsmart Abby is never going to work in his favor.

“Alright,” he says instead. “Let’s pretend, just for a second, that I’m a fool from Nebraska who has no idea what you’re talking about.”

She smiles, finally getting her way. “Pretend?” she teases, but she drops this tone in favor of more urgent matters. “I just don’t want you getting distracted by the wrong things, is all—Michael’s harmless. Ever since Daddy got him that job with the NSA, he’s been ridiculously loyal and—”

“Hold on, he works for your dad?”

“He works with my dad,” she corrects, but that hardly seems like an important distinction. “The two of them are together all the time, which is a nightmare for Rachel, but—”

“And he’s in intelligence?”

She pauses. Tilts her head to the side. “What are you really asking me, Matt?”

Matt’s asking a lot, and they both know it. Matt’s asking about motives, and opportunities, and all of the elements of espionage he was taught at Camp Peary. Matt’s asking about Michael, and Rachel, and Michael and Rachel. Matt’s asking about the Circle of Cavan, and the NSA, and he’s wondering if maybe this wasn’t a break-in, so much as it was a mole. Maybe the information was passed along, instead of stolen, and maybe Michael isn’t quite as loyal as he seems.

But Matt doesn’t say any of that. Because Matt can’t say any of that. He just holds a dear friend as they dance to an orchestra that shows no regard for covert conversations held on the dance floor. “Nothing.” And when Abby digs into more of her doubt, he doubles down. “I trust you. I’m not asking anything.”

Another pang of longing buries into the back of Matt’s mind. Abby is one of his closest friends. If there’s such a thing as soulmates, then Abby could be his. He sensed it the first moment he saw her, and the want weighs heavy on him now. When did the secrets start to overwhelm them?

Guilt scrapes at his insides, collecting all of the secrets he can’t share into a dense ball at the base of his gut. It leaves him feeling hollow, until he has no choice but to surrender to the secrets he can share. “Hey, listen,” he starts. “I’ve got to tell you something.”

Abby knows Matt. She knows his voice and his patterns. She knows his heart and his soul. When something shatters in her eyes, he understands that she knows this about him too—the deep dark secret that he thought he hid so well. She lets her chin fall. Shakes her head. “Matt, you don’t—”

“Just—” The words stop in his throat out of habit, forced down for so long that he’s not quite sure how to get them up. “I know you already know, but I just need to say it, okay? You’ve gotta let me say it, while I’ve still got the guts to.”

There’s a newfound rigidity to her, as she braces for impact. Years, upon years, upon years of something unspoken, now finally finding its way to the surface. Matt brings a finger to her chin, and lifts it so that her eyes meet his. “I love you.”

And, of course, she says, “I know.”

It doesn’t feel like it should. It doesn’t feel like his world melts and it doesn’t feel like Han and Leia on Cloud City. It doesn’t feel like anything. Nothing changes about Matt and Abby in that moment, because Matt and Abby have always operated under the knowledge that Matt is hopelessly and helplessly enamored by her.

“I planned it that way,” Abby goes on. “I always plan it that way.”

“This could be different,” Matt offers.

But Abby just shakes her head. “I’ve had this conversation with a thousand different guys in a thousand different ways,” she says. “I make people like me, because it’s easier to use them when I need to. I promise, you’re not in love with me.”

“I am.”

“You’re not.”

“Abby,” he says. “I am.”

“No,” she says right back. “You’re really, really not. And I think you’re going to be awfully surprised when you figure out who you are in love with.”

Matt’s not surprised by much, nowadays, so he starts to pull from his own reserves of doubt. For so long, there's been a tension in her presence, radiating from a sense of want—wanting her approval, wanting her adoration, wanting her to notice him in the way no one else does. But in an instant, it all evaporates, and she's gone and thrown another question into the mix.

But before he can ask it, Joe’s in his ear. “Nebraska,” he says, interrupting for the first time all evening. “Our friend is on the move.”

Matt knows Joe. He knows the cadence to his words. He knows the way urgency always sounds like anger. When Matt looks over toward the doors of the mansion, he already knows what he's going to find. With the worst timing in the world, he leaves Abby behind to follow Michael into the mansion.

[vampireninjabunnies-blog]

7 for the OTP ask <3

Sorry this took so long. That word count was stressing me out lol. Never bothered to keep track before.😊

So here it is. Esther gives John a present.

Snippet under the cut

The warm light of the golden afternoon shined through the window of Esther's bedroom bouncing off her hair as she moved. John watched her, smiling contentedly as she buzzed about searching for something. His Yale sweater hung loosely off her shoulder, the hem coming down past her hips. 

He thought she looked very cute with her pigtails and little white socks, his breath hitching slightly whenever she leaned over and he caught a glimpse of her flowered panties. 

"Yes!" She exclaimed pulling a large wrapped box out from under her dresser. Hopping toward him, grinning broadly. 

"I found it. Your birthday present."

He raised a brow at her, his lips turning thin as he frowned. He usually tried to ignore his birthday. Being born on Halloween had hardly been something to celebrate in the Duncan's household. He had purposely made sure to stay in his own apartment for his birthday. Avoiding her.

"I told you I don't celebrate my birthday. Besides it was yesterday. We missed it."

She smiled up at him cocking her head to the side. It made her look a bit like a bird. 

"No we didn't. Your birthday is today not yesterday silly."

"What?" He just stared at her, confused. "I know when my birthday is Esther. The thirty-first was yesterday. You missed it."

Esther shook her head holding the present out to him.

"I know the thirty-first was yesterday but that's not your birthday. Your birthday is today. November first."

He took the present from her, his head cocked to the side.

"No it's not…you can't…just…"

She grinned up at him.

"Sure I can. You hate your birthday. So it's not your birthday anymore. Today is. From now on. So Happy Birthday Hummingbird."

He laughed, he couldn't help it. He started to open the present as Esther turned to her closet to find something to wear.  Listening to her as she regaled him with the details of how she got the gift.

"I was at the fabric store with mama and I saw this there and just thought of you. I knew I could make something out of it."

He hummed a little as he put the box on the bed and lifted the lid, an eyebrow raising.

"Took forever to make, and Micheal got me the leather. Meemaw found the buttons. Daddy helped me with the lining, so it's removable and he helped me waterproof the whole thing"

Esther's voice was cheery and bright. He lifted the coat from the box. Dark, with leather on the shoulders. Buckles at the collar and sleeves. With the most ridiculous airplane print all over it and buttons with scales on them. His first thought was that it was tacky and kinda ugly. The stitching was wonky, and some of the buttons were uneven. And he loved it.

 He was still staring at, a crooked grin on his face when she turned to him finally dressed.

"Do you like it?"

John turned his head to her, she bit her lip and started stammering, her small hands making almost apologetic gestures.

"I know it's probably not as nice as your other clothes and…"

He put the coat down and strode over to her, pulling her close and kissed her, cutting her off mid sentence. Smiling down at her when he broke the kiss. His voice soft, almost like he might cry just a little.

"I love it. No one's ever made me a present before. I'll wear it all the time."

Esther's face lit up like the Fourth of July. Smiling from ear to ear.

"Really. Sarah said it was campy and a little tacky. I was worried you'd hate it."

John just smiles, a smile that reaches his eyes. Broad and real. A smile that has graced his face a lot since he'd met her. The coat was campy, and tacky. But then again so was he sometimes. And he didn't care. It was the most wonderful gift he'd ever received. And she was the most wonderful person he'd ever met. Why she loved him he'd never know.

"It's perfect and I don't deserve it. Just like you."

"Happy birthday hummingbird."

He laughed, surrendering to her change of his birthday and kissed her again. It really was the best birthday of his whole life.

[dev-nxbody-h3re]

i come for more *ominous music*

Micheal? how did you meet every one of the tormentors and what are your thoughts one them?

that is all i asked for *Ascends*

(in case you didn't know, i actually made a video on this exact scenario on my youtube channel :D i haven't uploaded in a bit but i SWEAR im still doing stuff T-T)

Michael: Well, that's actually a bit of a funny story.. it was in 6th.. no, it was 7th grade, so we were about 12 I think. I tried skipping lunch because I thought the school rules were dogshit and I was some kind of pre-bad boy even before I hit highschool. But the hall monitor told me to get the fuck back in there or she'd give me detention- which was bullshit, but whatever.

So I go back into the cafeteria and there's only one table open. I'm thinking, oh fucking great, there's Assholes 1, 2, and 3, I'm gonna be stuck here for the next half-hour. I gotta tell you though, they were the cutest kids. I had a distinctly British, swagless demeanor at the time so I looked constantly dead inside- more than I ended up actually being later. But I digress, I should continue the story. So I'm being mopey and emo about it because I'm 12 and that's the most important thing I have to deal with.

I look away for one moment and these motherfuckers have me surrounded. They've been trying to force me to be their friend for a bit now, and they're about to annoy me into accepting their friendship. Eventually I decide that I'm fighting a losing battle and accept their offer of friendship, thinking that I'll just be their friend for one lunch period and that'll be that.

Yeah.. we ended up being friends for the rest of our lives. And then after, too. Granted, there was like forty years between them dying and then coming back but like, I think it still counts.

My opinion of them? God, you'll be lucky if this response doesn't take up your entire screen. Sorry but- well, I'm not really sorry, because 1, I like talking about my friends, and 2, you actually asked for this. Congratulations, you're getting exactly what you asked for! Yay!

Let's start with James. Now look, okay, I can admit this is going to be ridiculously sappy, so why don't we just pretend that I'm actually saying something deep, and.. and enlightening, or something. Just between us. Okay. Honestly, James is literally just the best. He's always been there for me even when I haven't asked, just- God, I love him so much. There's so much I want to talk about but this would actually be enormous- I don't think either of us really thought this through. Whatever. He's amazing, and funny, and pretty, and I'm very in love with him, 10/10 friend and boyfriend, would recommend. Except I wouldn't, because he's not up for grabs.

Moving on to Matthew.. where do I even start? Let's just get one thing out of the way, he's so cool. Like, if Jeremy is cool in a cool way, Matthew is cool in a loser way. He's just.. a guy. In my house! Sometimes I'll wake up and be sad like usual and then I see Matthew and I'm like "Oh!! A guy!! A funky dude!!" and then everything's good again. Very huggable, my best loser, 10/10 friend, love him very much. I would throw myself into a volcano for him.

And finally, Taylor. God, they're gorgeous. Obviously that's not all, but. Fuck. Taylor is literally the only one of us who has any sort of fashion sense at all, it's insane. Taylor's also smart as fuck, even if they don't think so. They're so insecure about themself I just kinda wanna squeeze them and shake them around a bit until they finally get it inside their head that they're so perfect. Taylor is absolutely the most perfect human on planet Earth and they live with me! I've never been luckier in my life! So incredibly cool in the least straight way possible, I love them more than life itself, 10/10 human ever.

There's your answer. This got a bit out of my control, but in my defense this is what you asked for. I could've gone into so much detail your head would've exploded, but I didn't. And thank god you didn't ask about Jeremy, or Evan, or Elizabeth, or literally anybody else because I have so much to say about them this response would've been so fucking long.

Bye.