michael is my baby okay

WHOO STORY TIME
@connormurphweed read this I crave validation @her-biness too I love you both

Jeremy is in the kitchen at Michael’s house, and he has no idea how he got there.

He’s tired, eyelids slipping down until he opens them again, crossing his eyes and struggling to get them focused again.

He’s standing, legs apart so that his thighs aren’t touching, and he knows he should go back to bed, Michael’s bed, but he can’t move. It’s like he’s in a trance.

He woke up about twenty minutes ago, Michael’s back pressing warmly into his, and he felt blood trickling down his thighs. Shit.

He had gotten up quickly, not wanting to get blood all over Michael’s bed, went to the bathroom, and saw that he would have to quietly go downstairs, because surprise, Michael doesn’t have pads in his personal bathroom. Double shit.

He goes downstairs, changes his pad, then decides to just camp out in the living room until the morning.

He gets a glass of water from Michael’s fridge, where the water is so cold a film of frost ices over the top of the water if he leaves it alone for a bit, and takes a long drink.

It burns his throat going down, but he likes it like that.

He then just sits on the couch, dozing off, until he hears the creaking of steps going downstairs. He startles, pulling a blanket over his head but peeking out.

He sees red pajama bottoms, then a pac-man shirt.

Michael.

He’s rubbing his eyes tiredly, and his hair is a mess, and he doesn’t have his glasses on. Jeremy suddenly feels guilty.

Michael is stumbling over himself, which makes sense because, you know, his glasses aren’t on… his face.

God, Jeremy is more tired than he thought.

Michael is fumbling with his phone, but he looks more awake then Jeremy feels, so there’s that.

Then Michael’s phone flashlight sweeps brightly right into his eyes, and Jeremy resists the impulse to hiss loudly.

He covers his face with the blankets, flushing as he hears Michael walk over to him.

“I know you’re under there, Jeremy,” Michael says. His voice is low and husky, and Jeremy falls in love with him a bit more.

“Sorry,” Jeremy whispers back. “I woke up then I didn’t want to go back upstairs because of my fucked up sleeping schedule and-” He’s rambling, but then Michael pulls back the blanket, and Jeremy shuts up. “Sorry.” He finishes quickly. Michael smiles a little, then pulls him up off the couch and into the kitchen.

“Dance with me,” Michael tells him, and Jeremy nods.

“Okay.”

The night took a turn, but it’s a good one.

Michael clicks on a playlist from YouTube Music that’s labelled Calm Songs For Dates.
‘I Can’t Help Falling In Love With You’ starts to play. Jeremy is standing awkwardly, then jumps a little when Michael turns around and grabs his hand lacing their fingers together. Jeremy’s other hand goes up to rest on Michael’s shoulder, and Michael puts his hand on Jeremy’s hip.

“Dance with me,” Michael says again, then starts to sway with the music. Jeremy sways with him, both embarrassed that he doesn’t really know how to dance, and feeling a bit cliche.

“This is what they do in movies,” Jeremy says. Michael huffs out a laugh.

“Shut up, my favorite part is playing.” Michael starts to hum, then sings quietly in Jeremy’s ear.

“Take my hand,” Michael squeezes their linked hands a little, making Jeremy’s mouth quirk up at the corners, “take my whole life too, for I can’t help falling in love with you.” Jeremy then joins in singing.

“Like a river flows, surely to the sea, Darling, so it goes, some things are meant to be,” Then the two boys sing together, their voices melding together to make a pleasant harmony.

“Take my hand,” this time Jeremy brings their hands together, placing them in between he and Michael’s chests, then leans forward, trapping their hands between them, “Take my whole life, too, for I can’t help falling in love with you, for I can’t help falling in love with you.” The song fades out, leaving the boys to be swaying together, their foreheads touching.

The two then look towards Michael’s phone as ‘Here Comes A Thought’ from Steven Universe starts to play. Jeremy giggles and lets his head plunk against Michael’s shoulder.

“I can’t believe you, Michael.” Michael grumbles and steps on Jeremy’s foot. “Ow!”

“Screw you, it’s a good show, and this song is relaxing!” Michael sounds offended, which only makes Jeremy smile more.

Jeremy starts to softly sing along, stopping Michael from skipping the song from spite.


“Here comes a thought that might alarm you, what someone said and how it harmed you, something you did that failed to be charming,
things that you said are suddenly swarming,” Michael joins in, and Jeremy stops singing to start doing simple footwork that he remembers from dancing in sixth grade.

“And, oh, you’re losing sight, you’re losing touch, all these little things seem to matter so much, that they confuse you, that I might lose you,”

And they go on like that. There’s a part in the song where there’s an tinkling of notes getting higher and higher, and, at that part, Michael tries to pick up and twirl Jeremy.

He isn’t able to do it because Michael has pretty much no muscles whatsoever, but Jeremy appreciates the effort.

Then that song ends, and Michael pauses the track, letting the two stand in silence. It’s nice, Jeremy thinks, it’s nice to be standing in your boyfriend’s kitchen as the sun is rising, holding hands, dancing, and enjoying each other’s company.

Michael then yawns. A squeak comes out of his throat as he does, Jeremy snickering.

“Shut up,” Michael says mock-angrily, swatting Jeremy’s bicep. Jeremy holds back his laughter, his cheeks puffing out.

“Sorry.” He and Michael both laugh together, then Michael starts to lead them both upstairs.

“I’m going back to bed. Join me?”

“I’ve heard worse ideas,” Jeremy teases him. Michael flushes red.

“Shut your face.” Michael mutters as they crawl under the covers. Jeremy smiles widely.

“Okay.”

“Maybe ‘okay’ will be our ‘always.’” Michael says sleepily, rolling on his side and opening his arms so that Jeremy could lay by him.

“I can’t believe you.” Jeremy mutters, but still lets Michael hug him.

“Night. Well, morning.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Maybe-” Jeremy knees him in the calf.

“Go to sleep.”

“O- alright.”


Wow that was cheesy

Whitney Houston at the American Music Awards, 1986

ALSO IS NOLAN OKAY????? my poor baby!!! i know he just fucking unknowingly lured liam corey and mason into a trap but im so fucking pissed gabe beat his ass someone better fucking come to kill all those stupid fucking morons of beacon hills… THEY ALL SHOULD DIE THEY ARENT WORTHY OF BEING SAVED ANYMORE… ungrateful pieces of shit bye

Michael Imagine #1: Interview

“So, Michael! I assume you are aware of the recent pictures that have been leaked of your girlfriend, miss [Y/N], correct? She was seen in a bikini at the beach with a blonde babe. What are your thoughts on this?” The interviewer asked.

“My thoughts? I think you should get your facts straight before making up stupid rumors like that. [Y/N] is with her brother in those pictures while the boys and I are away on tour. She is staying with him for a little while so she can spend more time with him. Don’t make up shit like that until you know the whole story.” Michael declared.

“My apologies, Mr. Clifford. I do hope tha-”

“No. Just go on to the next question. I need to get through this interview so I can call her and make sure my baby girl is okay.” He sighed.

ok but like… where’s calum?? is he okay?? is he eating well?? is he happy?? does he have a full 8 hours of sleep?? is he lost?? has he eaten?? is he clean?? does he have a dog with him?? is his phone charged?? is he well hydrated?? the only form of communication we have is his spotify activity

10

Michael Emerson knowing everything about his Johns.

requested by talking2thesky.