Michael Meme Mga Nobela at Kwento

Rayan shivered just a little, pushing the thought away as he continued scrolling. Rayan's internet snooping was interrupted by a familiar hand waving in front of his screen, the colorful woven bracelets being a dead giveaway. He looked up as Michael struck a pose. "Well," Michael ran his fingers through his now vibrant hair, "looks great, right? It ALWAYS turns out better when you come along!" "That came out amazing!" Rayan oogled at the way his friend's hair shifted when he ran his fingers through it. "I paid already, so we're good to go. I'm craving Micky D's sooo bad right now!"

He then, slowly and carefully removed his hand on my wound before standing up. "Damn, Gabriel. I've never thought that you're a fan of Bruno Mars!" Michael said. He still looked worried but he's now smiling a bit so I frowned at what he said. "What do you mean?" I asked and he grinned at me. "Cause he's willing to get a bullet straight to his brain?" he said as he scratched his head and I couldn't help but give him a smack. Everyone laughed aside from Maze and the two kids because it's either they don't get it or they don't think it's funny. Just like me.

“You are ridiculous, bros. He probably has not regained his memories yet. Give him some time, “Drake suggested. “I really wished that was the case, Drake. But one minute I hear he regains part of his memory, the next minute he looses it again” Michael complained bitterly. “I feel your pain to, bro. Why don't we go take coffee?” Drake proposed. “I would prefer we take beer” Michael brought up another idea. “Ohh! Someone wants to rip away the pains they are having. Let's go, I know just the perfect place we should go” Drake recommended. ***

He smirked, his green eyes glistening. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think I remember you.” I said, still trying to put my finger on what exactly was familiar about him. “Oh, it’s okay; you probably remember me with glasses. It's me, Michael, remember? We did the same major back in college. We would study together.” And that’s when it hit me: it was sweet little Michael. Well, he was so little anymore; he got really muscular and had wide, broad shoulders. Does he work out a lot now?

He turned away, sounding very disappointed. "I've heard of M," replied Millie. Michael snorted. "Then do you know M base?" "I do," whispered Millie. He looked at her and snacked while speaking. "Wow! Great that you know. M is the only one who can make me a follower in this life." He crossed his arms, his eyes filled with anticipation. "If M stood in front of me and told me to work for her, I would bow without hesitation and dedicate myself to her cause."

Two seconds later— Buzz. He glanced down. And nearly choked. Vivian had sent him a ridiculous meme of a grumpy-looking cat with the caption: "This is you 24/7." Michael exhaled sharply through his nose, trying to suppress the smirk tugging at his lips. But then she followed up with— “Actually, the cat looks friendlier.” A short laugh escaped him before he could stop it. The room went silent. Every executive in the meeting turned to look at him. The presenter, who had been droning on about projections, froze mid-sentence.

"Why the hell is someone sending me a video? Boring." A second message popped up from another contact—this time, with a comment. [Michael, congrats! You're an internet sensation now. I downloaded your masterpiece and saved it for future viewing. Gonna enjoy it every now and then!] Michael's annoyance spiked. The message was from a guy in his social circle—one notorious for his disturbing, degenerate taste in videos. Michael always found his content repulsive. He mumbled, "My masterpiece? What the hell is he talking about?"

"I love every single part of you, Michael Jackson. I love your wild wolf and your big heart, and I will stay with you forever." Jone leans his male body against his husband on the soft animal skins of the couch later that night, smiling as he sends out a wide mind-link message to all the neighboring packs with two simple words: Jone Jackson. Michael sends out his own loud mind-link right after, sharing a memory of them kissing at the Sacred Gathering Ground. His message is super short but makes Jone's heart go crazy: Mine. Always and forever. Suddenly, lots of happy mind-links start crashing into Jone's head from the Hale Moonfang Pack. All his brothers and sisters-in-law are sending beautif

Victoria shouted. "Yes, Beta Victoria!" the boys chorused happily. Sitting beside me, Michael slumped in his seat, looking extremely stressed. "Sigma Mimi," he groaned. "I'm a future Alpha, for Pete's sake." "We're in disguise, Mimi," I teased. "Just relax." "Oh, crap," he muttered under his breath. Suddenly, a tiny finger poked Michael in the cheek. A cub was staring at him, eyes wide open. "Beta Victoria! Sigma Mimi said, 'Oh crap'!" the cub chirped.

I explained. “Well, it sounds like tomorrow we may need to take a little trip over to this country club and see if they would accept us as new members,” Michael said. “Michael, you have got to be joking,” I said with a laugh. “You are a billionaire and the CEO of your own company. You could become a member of any country club you wanted. As soon as we walk through the door, I bet they’ll be kissing your feet, begging for you to join.” Michael just laughed, eating more of his pizza, his eyes fixated on the television.