°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

You’re not sure what set it off. Maybe it was the way Marlon’s arms lined with veins, the aggressive tone in his voice when he gets mad at one of his friends, or maybe it was ovulation.

Either way, you needed him and now.

You let out a huff of frustration, standing on your feet. Marlon’s eyes were trained on the violent game, not noticing you walking over. In your head you felt like a lion reaching its prey.

You draped your chest across his back, rubbing on his arms. His familiar scent filled your nose and your eyes practically rolled back. God, you were feral. “You okay, ma?” He asked.

You couldn’t bother to respond, you rather use your energy doing something else. You planted soft kisses on his neck, taking your sweet, precious time.

The warmth in your tummy only got hotter as your tongue lightly trailed against his neck. “Baby…,” he started with a light giggle, shifting his head away from you. “I gotta focus.”

You didn’t stop. You couldn’t. His game was the least of your worries. Your hand trailed down his body, landing on his print. His breath hitched at the sudden pressure.

“I need you.” You whispered in his ear and you felt the small shudder of his body. Marlon felt like he was stuck between a rock and a hard place.

He was in an intense match, almost on the verge of securing victory but his very beautiful girlfriend is begging for him. Before he could come to the final conclusion, you stood up straight.

“Just stay right there, baby.” You told him, walking to his side. He glanced at you quickly, trying to balance his attention between you and the game.

You dropped to your knees, crawling to the middle of his legs and his stomach flipped. He knew exactly what you were about to do, and it is about to be hell for him.

He muted his mic, “Ma, I can’t focus like this.” He told you with a sigh. “Yes you can, you got it.” Your nails glided up his covered thighs, stopping at the waistband of his sweats.

He exhaled out of his nose, feeling the rise of hard-on. You were perched comfortably between his legs, looking up at him as he tried to keep his composure.

You were practically drooling to see his dick, and wasted no time to tug them down. As much as he acted like he didn’t have the time for this, he sure did lift his hips to help.

An airy laugh left your lips seeing his eagerness. His dick finally came into view, and you licked your lips from pure desire.

You wrapped your hand around him and he let out a shaky breath. He felt hot and heavy, excited to feel him inside of you. But you wanted to torture him a little. “Turn your mic on.” You demanded.

A sliver of fear ran through his eyes and your hard stare let him know you were serious. You were extremely stubborn—to the point you were going to get what you want one way or another.

A shaky hand came up to his headset, turning the mic and attempted to lock back in. Your tongue lolled out and you swirled it around his tip.

The screams and laughters from his friends were heard from inside the headphones but Marlon couldn’t even focus on that. You sucked him into your mouth, trying to go as far as you could.

He had to fold his lips inwards to hold back a moan, and his hands stopped. He couldn’t play like this, “yo, Marlon, you good?” One of his friends asked noticing the silence and lack of movement from his character on screen.

“Yea bro, I got distracted.” He mumbled taking a deep breath to start back up. You continued to suck him up, coating him in your spit creating a mess between his thighs.

His eyes blurred from the suction and sloppiness of your mouth. His stomach caved in, and his fingers trembled against his controller. “M-ma,” he whispered, trying to alert his friends.

You took no notice to his words, using your hand to twist the base of his dick while you licked and sucked on the tip. His eyes rolled back, and his palm landed on the back of your locs.

He took his headset off and flung it across the room, overwhelmed from the pleasure to care about the game. His hips rocked into your mouth as he moaned. “Fuckkk, just like that.”

You hummed around his dick, sending vibrations through him. “You gon’ let me nut in your mouth?” He managed to get out. You pulled off of his dick, drool coating your chin and looked up at him with hazy eyes.

Your hand continued to stroke all of him, paying extra attention to the tip creating a slick slimy sound. “I want you in me.” You told him, biting your bottom lip.

You looked like pure sex right now and he needed that so bad. “Shit, get on top of me.” He said. You wasted no time, standing and tugging off your bottoms and panties before situating yourself over his soaking tip.

You both stared down where you two were about to meet anticipating the feeling. You slid yourself down and you both moaned at the feeling. Your warm walls clenched around him while his dick stuffed you full.

“Oh shit,” you mumbled, dropping your head into the crook of his neck. Your legs trembled from his size, and you tried to slow down your breathing but he felt too big and way too good.

You jolted after he laid a smack on your ass, “I thought you needed me, ma, go head and ride that shit.” He continued to palm your ass, one hand gently grasping your locs to bring you into a messy kiss.

Your tongues explored each other’s mouth as he distracted you from what he was about to do. Before you knew it, he thrusted inside of you causing you to break the kiss with a moan as he brushed against your g-spot.

“Nggh—Marlon,” You placed your hand on his chest as he continued thrusting into you. The force of his hips made you bounce up, dropping right back to the base.

You were about to lose your mind. Noticing your fucked out expression, he grabbed you by your ass, fucking you onto his dick. “You like this dick, mama?” He questioned with a tilt of his head, listening to the wet sounds of your pussy getting pounded into.

“Fuck yes,” you cried. You practically felt him in your stomach. “You want your nut?” He asked and you quickly nodded. “Bounce on it.” He stilled his hips, resting in the gaming chair to let you take control.

You prepared yourself, gripping onto his shoulders, shifting in his lap. You lifted yourself to the tip, slowly moving back down just to get used to it.

Marlon’s heavy lidded gaze made you feel hot, and you finally started to pick up speed. The sound of your ass dropping into his lap made your eyes roll back.

His hand reached down, pressing a thumb to your clit rubbing it in tight circles. “Wet ass pussy. You takin’ that shit so well.” He mumbled.

Your pussy repeatedly clenched around him, and your fingers tightened against his shirt. “You gon’ cum for me?” He asked, leaning in to kiss and suck on your neck.

“Y-yes.”

Marlon decided to help you both and thrust up, matching your pace. The collision made it feel like he was digging in your guts.

“FUCK!” You cried out as you began to cream on him. “Mhm, make a mess on it, mama.” He smacked your ass once again, not stopping his administrations.

“Shit, I’m bout to nut.” He said. Instead of fucking up into you, he stood up making sure to keep you planted on his dick. He carried you to the bed, laying you down to put your legs on his shoulders.

“D-deep.” You whimpered feeling him kiss your cervix with his tip. He pounded into you as he chased your orgasm. “Take that dick, baby, you got it.”

He groaned into your ear, thrusts getting relentlessly fast. The skin slapping filled the room along with your moans and whimpers. “I’m ‘bout to fill up that lil pussy.” He muttered.

“Please, please, please.”

Your pleas went straight to his dick as he spilled inside of you. He continued to pump his cum inside of you making sure none spilled out.

“Damn, girl.” He said, pulling out. Your legs were slightly shaking as you tried to catch your breath.

Your eyes closed, body finally coming from the high. Across the room you heard screaming and laughter from the headphones.

“Mar….did you turn off the mic?” You asked sitting up.

Marlon’s eyes widened, turning his head towards the headset on the floor.

“Oh, shit.”

Tags:

“righttttt, i forgot we’re looking for radioisotope purple,” marlon said, chucking the lilac letter behind him.

“radio what? it’s heliotrope!” michael laughed. “it’s kinda like lilac, but more pinkish, like the flowers.”

marlon rolled his eyes, muttering something under his breath and continued searching, throwing fanmail left and right. “lilac, heliotrope… whatever, man, i’m gettin’ paper cuts all over!”

they had been in australia for days, and the only thing keeping him anchored was the promise of that pale purple letter. he had to find it.

“hold on,” marlon muttered, and michael glanced at him sideways. marlon’s arm dived deep into the canvas bag and he pulled out a crisp purple envelope. “is it this one? looks pinkish.”

michael turned his head, ready to berate him that it was purple, not pink, but his eyes landed on the envelope in his hand. it was a pale purple, with hints of pink. heliotrope! and written on the front in that neat cursive handwriting that he knew better than the back of his hand, was his name.

michael lunged forward, snatching the letter out of marlon’s hand. his face broke out into that wide grin, erasing any trace of exhaustion from his features. he squealed, actually squealed and cradled the letter.

“oooh-hoooo, look at you,” marlon crowed, clapping once and stomping his feet on the ground. something that marlon did whenever he was particularly tickled about something, which was all the time.

michael turned his body away from marlon, attempting to give himself a little privacy as his thumb slipped under the seal, carefully tearing the envelope open. as he pulled the neatly folded pink paper out, a few glossy photographs slipped out, landing right on his denim-clad knee. 

a blurry shot of ben, a palm tree sunset, your sisters.

and you. 

michael’s breath hitched in his throat as he picked up the picture of you. you were at the beach, the california sun shining onto you, covering your hair and skin in a golden glow. your curls were longer now, and you smiled your beautiful, crinkly-eyed smile that made michael’s heart do a violent flip. 

“let me see what she wrote!” marlon whined, michael was taking too long to stare at the pictures, and he was getting restless. after all, it was him who found the letter in the first place.

“no way!” michael said, pulling the letter towards his chest protectively.

“come on, you know i don’t got a girlfriend waiting for me at home!” marlon whined again, throwing his hand up in the air. “the least you could do is share a little of the homefront with your favourite brother!”

“she ain’t my girlfriend!” michael defended, almost too quickly. he felt a wave of heat creep up his neck, and the room suddenly felt way too hot. “and you ain’t my favourite brother.”

“man, i literally get ten paper cuts tryna find that letter for you, and this is what i get? not even a thank you?” marlon groaned loudly, dramatically shoving his fingers in michael’s face. he wiggled his fingers to show off his ‘injuries’, even though his skin was perfectly fine and scratch-free.

michael chuckled, swatting marlon’s hands away. he does owe it to marlon for finding your letter.

“thank you marlon,” michael said softly, voice full of gratitude. “really. i appreciate it.”

“yeah, yeah,” marlon waved his hand. “you wanna thank me, you let me read that letter!”

“fine,” michael finally relented, not being able to hide a shy smile. marlon cheered and scooted closer until he was shoulder to shoulder with michael. michael carefully unfolded the pink paper, tracing over your handwriting fondly.

“dear peter pan,” marlon read, his voice contorting into a horrible, high-pitched attempt at imitating your voice.

“be quiet, marlon, or i’m putting it away,” michael warned and marlon simply giggled. michael cleared his throat, straightening the paper a little before reading it out loud.

“dear peter pan,” he began, smiling fondly as he read out the whole letter.

cedarcrest, encino, ca  — late september 1974

by the time the summer of ‘74 came to an end, it officially marked a year and a half since you’ve seen michael.

in the beginning, michael was true to his promise that he would write you all the time. after that first letter from tokyo, he had written to you from perth, puerto rico, montreal, and even from dakar. and then from new york and a last time from spokane. that’s less than ten letters in the span of eighteen months. you couldn’t blame him, of course. but you couldn’t help it, you missed him too much. and you didn’t want him slipping through your fingers.

whenever he called you, you would rush towards the telephone, sprinting down the hallway like your life depended on it. the time he called you from denver, you had slipped on your kitchen floor and twisted your right ankle, resulting in a sprain. you answered the call with tear-stricken cheeks and a concerned indie wrapping up your ankle. 

the worse part of all this was, despite not hearing a word from him in weeks, you still couldn’t escape him. you couldn't go to the grocery store without his bright smile and big eyes mocking you from the glossy covers of right on! magazines by the cash register. 

and the new radio your parents got you for your birthday went to waste. because every time you turned it on, you were met with tunes of their new single, and the DJ launching into the same enthusiastic spiel about the jackson 5 that you’ve involuntarily memorized by this point. you couldn’t even turn on the television without michael, taller and almost unrecognizable, staring straight at you. singing a ballad with his new voice, surrounded by girls who didn’t know what his real laugh sounded like.

hell, you couldn’t even have your morning cereal without michael on the box raving about how his alpha-bits are tasty! it was mocking, really.

michael was everywhere and yet he was nowhere at all.

spinning on your turntable was david bowie’s changes. you’d grown to like david bowie a lot, even having gone to his concert in early september. you remembered that night as clear as day, indie had driven the three of you to the universal amphitheatre, and spent hours getting ready together beforehand. you blew out your hair, making it as fluffy as possible, swiped on lip gloss that you knew you would end up licking off and wore your favourite flared jeans. in your aladdin sane tee, you danced and jumped and sang every word, not getting home until way past midnight. 

it was the best night, and you kept your green ticket stub safe in your drawer. you hung his poster from the concert program on your wall, right next to michael’s. 

with a heavy sigh, you leaned your head back on your mattress. you were sitting on the floor, less reading and more burning a hole into the magazine you were holding. on the cover, michael looked beautiful, draped in bright orange bell bottoms, and his afro was bigger and perfectly picked out. the headline reading; michael tells all! going solo, randy joining j-5 and secret girlfriend? (see page 24)

you knew it was just clickbait, for marketing. but you couldn’t stop the bitter lump from forming in your throat when you turned to page 24, met with a whole spread speculating on michael’s love life. there were pictures of him with his arm casually draped around some pretty girl at some press event, leaning in way too close. your chest tightened and you shut the magazine. 

falling for the media tricks like this, you felt like a fan, when he was supposed to be your best friend. you looked down at your lap, sighing. you were both sixteen now, of course things would be different. you didn’t expect him to stay exactly the same boy from two years ago. 

you glanced up at the clock on your nightstand, realizing it was time to feed ben. sometimes you wondered if you fed ben too often, he always seemed to be growing bigger and bigger everyday. he really was getting fat, maybe you’d put him on a diet soon. 

you winced slightly as you stood up, making sure to not put too much pressure on your right foot. you made your way to the corner in your room where ben’s enclosure sat, reaching for the container of food on the shelf. you closed the little window that you had propped open for some breeze for ben.

“ben, you hungry?” you asked, a warm smile on your face. then, you paused.

your eyes scanned the cage once, then twice, and your heart dropped to your stomach. it was completely empty and the water dish was knocked down dramatically, water spilling out. the latch on the cage door was left open, swinging slightly. you gasped.

ben was gone.

you dropped to your hands and knees and began crawling to search for him, ignoring the throbbing in your ankle.

“ben?” you called out, peering into the dark shadows beneath your bedframe. “ben, c’mere, boy…”

nothing. you checked under your desk, every drawer in your dresser, behind your vinyl stack, your bookshelf. you checked every little nook and cranny of your room and there was no sign of ben. you even checked the soundhole of your acoustic guitar, because at this point, ben could be anywhere. it was safe to say that ben was nowhere in your room.

“shit, shit, shit,” you muttered frantically, the panic finally settling in as you rushed downstairs, practically gliding down the steps.

you glanced around your foyer, thinking of where to start, before your eyes landed on the back door that was ajar. your eyes widened and you burst through the screen door, ignoring the throb in your right ankle. if he had escaped out into the yard, he was as good as gone, with the foxes that loved to lurk around. and it didn’t help that your backyard was a whole acre big, it would take you until sunset to cover the whole yard. 

“ben!” you called out, once again dropping to your knees, ignoring the sharp grass on your bare knees. you scanned the bushes, the patio furniture, and considered jumping in the pool, maybe he had drowned?

with tears prickling in your eyes and sweat dripping down your forehead, you took a seat on the steps of the gazebo. the guilt was suffocating. the one thing you had promised michael, the one real piece of his heart that he left in encino, and you lost it. you buried your face in your hands, silent tears taking over. ben was gone, and he was as good as dead. 

squeak.

you lifted your head up, glancing around. was ben contacting you from the afterlife?

another squeak. you noticed the grass moving a little and leaned forward, trying to see what was going on. you squinted your eyes and right there, peeking out from the uncut grass was a familiar little rat. ben waddled towards you, and looked up at you with those unbothered beady eyes. as if you hadn’t just been mourning him.

“ben!” you cried, scooping him up from the ground. “you punk!”

you stared at the rat, the same rat that had you running all over cedarcrest, and potentially spraining your ankle further all while he came out unscathed. you cradled him in your hands and pulled him up to your face. and without thinking twice, you planted a kiss right on the top of his furry little head. ben blinked, wriggling in your hands but you weren’t gonna let go, not this time.

“ew….” you whispered, a grimace crossing your face. michael really had you out here kissing a rat.

cedarcrest, encino, ca  — october 1974

michael still hadn’t called you, or written to you. it’s been a month since you replied to his spokane letter, having written all about the david bowie concert, baby taj and how chubby ben was getting, leaving out the part where you lost him. you were sitting on the couch, idly flipping through a right on! magazine, that without a doubt, featured the jackson 5. you had just returned from a long day of shopping with tara and indie, and the three of you bought some of those mood rings that every teen was raving about.

you stopped being bitter about the magazines and the television shows and your new radio a while ago because you realized you just missed him. it took you a while to admit that, and now, you spent every day missing him.

your mood ring turned into a dark brown, almost black.

you missed how he knew exactly when you were feeling down and exactly how to cheer you up. you missed when it was your shoulder that his arm was casually draped over as you walked down ventura boulevard, heading for the candy store. you missed watching his face light up when you handed him your infamous peach cobbler, something you hadn’t baked since forever. because it felt pointless if michael wasn’t there to eat it. you missed when you didn’t have to share him with a million screaming fans.

not that he was yours to share.

a loud, shrill ring clanged through the living room, interrupting the tunes of it’s too late to change the time by the jackson 5, playing on the turntable.

instinctively, your heart did that little hopeful skip. without thinking twice, you threw yourself off the cushions, shouting an “i got it!”  to no one in particular as you made your way to the telephone. you snatched the receiver out of its cradle, pressing it tightly to your ear.

“michael!” you exclaim, an excited smile taking over your face, unable to hide how much you had been waiting for this.

there was a brief pause on the other end, and then you heard a soft, amused chuckle that was way too deep to be michael’s.

“...no, sweetheart, it’s jackie,” his smooth, deeper voice sounded through the line.

you swallowed, your face flushing with embarrassment. “oh, jackie! hi! sorry, i just thought–”

“i know, i know, you thought i was mike,” jackie teased, and you embarrassedly pressed your lips together in a tight line. then his tone shifted into something more hushed. “listen, i need a huge favour. but you gotta promise you won’t tell anyone, especially not indie. is she in the room?”

you found yourself nodding and glancing around, making sure indie wasn’t near. “no, she’s still upstairs doing laundry. what’s goin’ on?”

“well, we’re in indianapolis right now, but joseph is letting us make a quick stop to visit the old house back in gary,” he started.

“that’s nice,” you smiled, not without furrowing your eyebrows confusedly. you leaned back against the wall thinking, what did this have to do with indie? 

“yeah. back in gary, i’d always pass by this jewellery store downtown,” jackie explained, his voice softening with nostalgia. “and i’d always see this ring on display, and i remember thinkin’, man, when i find the girl i’m gonna marry, that’s the ring i’m gettin’ her.”

you felt your heart swell and you straightened up from the wall, letting your jaw drop in shock.

“oh my gosh, jackie, are you serious?” you whisper-shouted.

“i am, girl!” he whispered back, matching your excitement. “i know she’s the one. i knew it the moment i first saw her.”

you let out a soft laugh, he really was gonna propose to her, finally. “so, what’s the favour?”

“right,” he said, still smiling. “her ring size, i don’t know it.”

“i know it!” your face lit up. “i know it, jackie! she’s a size six. i know because we were just at sears and we were buying mood rings. i’m a five and she’s a six!” 

jackie let out a loud relieved laugh, slightly amused by your eagerness. “a six, okay. man, you are a lifesaver.” you could hear the sound of muffled laughter and shuffling, signaling his brothers were nearby. “alright, i gotta go now. not a word to indie, you promise?”

“cross my heart and hope to die,” you promised and jackie chuckled, you were just like michael. 

“tell everyone i said hi…. and tell michael i miss him.” you added quietly.

“oh, i will. i’ll tell michael you miss him and you wanna kiss him–”

“jackie!” you yelled, your eyes widening. all you heard was jackie laugh loudly and then a cackle that sounded way too much like marlon’s before the line clicked and went dead.

you slowly lowered the receiver back into its cradle. your face was still burning red from what jackie said, and marlon’s laugh. if marlon was there, that meant michael was there. and if michael was there, that meant he probably heard what jackie had said. 

you turned around, only to find indie standing at the bottom of the staircase, a laundry basket balanced at her hip. she hadn’t even said a word yet, and she probably wasn’t going to, but you completely panicked. 

“nothing!” you squeaked out, your voice an octave higher than usual. you shoved your hands into the pockets of your flared jeans, desperately trying to look casual.

indie slowly raised a suspicious brow at your flushed cheeks and the telephone, “right…” she said, her eyes narrowing in on you. she walked past you, and you offered her a slight smile, watching as she disappeared down the hallway. you let out a breath, shaking your head at your behaviour, she had to know something was up. jackie chose the wrong person to entrust with this secret, you weren’t gonna last even one day!

cedarcrest, encino, ca  — early december 1974

“tara, go get the mail, will you? the mailman just drove past.” you heard your mother call from the kitchen as you and tara sat on the couch, talking about the upcoming winter dance, both sipping a can of diet tab soda. tara was trying to be diet-conscious, and for some reason, that meant you had to be too. indie was away at UCLA, it was finals week.

tara told you about how tommy from algebra had already asked her to the dance, and you told her about how a boy from your history class, andy, had been dropping hints about asking you. he had spent weeks hovering around your locker, walking you to class, and giving you lingering smiles and gazes. he was sweet and he had a nice smile.

by all accounts, you should have been thrilled. you were sixteen now, and you always imagined that at sixteen you would meet a boy and have an ordinary teenage romance.

but every time he smiled at you, you found yourself comparing it to another smile. a smile that was oceans away. andy’s smile was nice, but it was nothing like michael. and andy had curls, but they weren’t as nice as michael’s, they weren’t even the same texture. andy couldn’t sing well, and worst of all, andy didn’t even have a favourite beatle.

tara told you to forget about michael and just go with andy. after all, michael was just your best friend.

“tara!”, your mothers voice called out again. right, the mail. tara groaned, throwing her head back, and before she could kvetch about always having to do everything, you offered to go instead.

you unlocked the front door, taking a step into the chilly winter winds. you walked down the driveway, headed towards your blue metal mailbox. you opened the hinged lid of it, reaching your hand in and pulling out a stack of mail. bills, your dad’s letters, store circulars, magazines, and a red envelope!

you let out a soft gasp, quickly closing the mailbox and rushed back into the house. tossing the rest of the mail onto the coffee table, you threw yourself on the couch, almost cradling the envelope. tara gasped too, leaning over your shoulder to read what michael had written you.

in the neatest writing that michael could muster, was your name written right in the centre of the envelope. you slipped your thumb underneath the envelope flap, the stone on your mood ring turning a warm shade of amber. inside was a single sheet of thick, lined paper, his messy scribble filling each line with blue ink.

“dear tinkerbell,” you begin, as you always did.

           november 30, 1974 　　　　　　　　　　　　　　 　　 　 　　　　 las vegas, nevada 　　　

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　 　　　　　　 　　　　　　　　 　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　 dear tinkerbell, it’s been too long since i’ve written or called, and i’m so so so sorry. things got so crazy after our last letter, we went all the way to brazil! brazil was beautiful, but there was never enough time. i couldn’t get any pictures for you ˙ᴖ˙ every time i sat down to even think of you, someone was immediately pulling me away. and this vegas residency.. we’re performing every night, but that’s still no excuse. i feel terrible, baby. i hope you’re not too mad at me. i can’t believe you really got to see david bowie in concert! you like david bowie now? that’s so cool! it must’ve been real fun! you gotta tell me all about when i’m back. also ben isn’t chubby! he’s just big boned! ¬_¬ we went back to the old house back in gary! the new owners let us visit, and it felt so small. i can’t even imagine how all of us used to fit in there, and all i could think about was how much has changed since we’ve left. gary felt like a lifetime ago, seriously. and then jackie and tito disappeared downtown for a while, i wonder what that was about.  speaking of, jackie told me that you missed me and  i miss you too, girl. i miss you so much and i miss home so much. i can’t believe it’s already been two years, and we’re both grown up now, aren’t we? but i’ve got some really good news, tinkerbell! ☺︎ can we get some drumroll please! the tour is finally over! for real this time. we’re wrapping up our residency here in vegas, a few more shows and we’re finally coming home for good. joseph said no more shows for a long long time. no more phone calls and letters. hey, don’t you think my spelling has improved since the first time we started writing? tell indie and tara i miss them too. we all miss you guys so much. and don’t write back! i'll be back by christmas and i can’t wait to see you, baby. ♡ thinking of you, peter pan  ♡ P.S. i still have all the pictures you sent me! i keep the one of you smiling at the beach right in my wallet. you looked really pretty in it.

“thinking of you, peter pan,” you pressed the letter against your chest, looking at tara, and letting out a shaky laugh. she laughed too, and took the letter from you, trying to confirm you weren’t tricking her or something.

“they’re actually coming back!” she cheered, dropping the letter. “dude, tell andy to take a hike!”

you caught the letter and let out a laugh, andy had been hiking for a long time now. the stone on your ring had shifted from the warm amber, to a deep royal blue.

michael was coming home.

𝓪/𝓷 — YOOOOO GUESS WHO'S BACK! only for a little while though, it's study week rn, which means i am supposed to be studying... 🤷‍♀️ i kinda got carried away while writing this , so it's kindaaaa messy but i hope you guys like it! 🥹 we'll be going into act II after this hihihihi

btwww i'll put a picture of a mood ring and what each colour means!

also i'm so sorry for being away for so long, i hadn't realized it'd been a whole entire month😭😭 hopefully you haven't forgotten me... 🌝 love you guys soooo much, thank you for all the support 🫶🫶💗

𝓽𝓪𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 ! ˚˖𓍢ִ໋ @unknwnbrii @khxna @58applestall @sugacor3 @freaky1nterlude @blondiezluvbrowniez @aengiexz @heezbbs @bubblybarbs225 @fartsalot12345 @sbluellaaa @neatachillies @sugarysweetooth @noelleeesstuff @soooooooanxious @koiffish