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hi loves! just wanna say i’ll be on a hiatus for a few weeks to spend time with family and other adulting related things, so i’ll be closing up shop temporarily.

posting will commence again in july and replies in general will be slow.

i love you all!!! stay safe <3

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i can’t stress enough how much i appreciate all of you, all the time. even if you’ve never commented or we’ve never talked im very very very grateful to you all

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NEWLYWED

[honeymooning in the off the wall era] | 1.2k words

WARNINGS: fem!reader, SWEETNESS, first time <3, sexual themes

[1979]

i imagine you’d get married somewhere in california. somewhere outside in a huge garden sort of place because both of your families would be there and you’ll need the room.

it’d be sunny and lovely and bustling with wildlife. birds singing, rabbits slipping in and out of the bushes. the walkway lined with native flowers and their petals.

and there’d be michael, glowing in a white tuxedo at the end of the aisle, waiting for you with his tremendous smile.

(i think you’d both wear white for the youth and whimsy of it all. i think it’d be really sweet)

there would be photographs galore. every step you take would be photographed, from the vows to kissing the bride to cutting the cake. little click click clicks, bulbs of flash everywhere. and the family photos, oh god, they’d take ages to set up. coordinating the in-laws, making sure all the babies are in someone’s lap, needing to get one with everybody on both sides and then getting just yours or just his. it’s a production!

and all poor michael wants to do is get some alone time with you. away from the cameras and without so many people in his face.

but both of you are pulled every which way to dance or accept a gift or take more pictures.

the cake would be delicious as well, but michael wouldn’t eat much of it. he’d probably just fork some off of your plate from time to time.

when it is finally, finally time to wind it down, you both steal away to your convertible which was painted white and dangling with so many ribbons and bows that danced so prettily in the wind.

mr. and mrs. jackson was sprayed on the back in the most elegant lettering, of course.

and you and michael wave to the party behind you, michael at the helm and you riding beside him as his giddy right hand.

michael’s nephews and brothers chase behind the car as it gets to the street, some of your folks too, everyone hooping and hollering at you both with glee.

when the running stops and you’re steering off into the california sunset, your veil moves behind you like a thin white river and michael takes a glance at you, so graceful and stunning in this moment of newness. the beginning of a beautiful life together.

because of michael’s schedule, the honeymoon would have to happen immediately (which neither of you complained about) and while it wouldn’t be very long, he would make sure you had all the time together that you could. he’d maybe even sneak a few extra days.

(his brothers would simply have to understand.)

so when you arrive at your hotel barely on the outskirts of the city, michael nearly forgets himself.

he’d just be so excited for alone time.

his suit jacket is swung over his shoulder and he’s slipping out of the car without thinking twice about anything.

as soon as he can, he’s grabbing your hand and running to check into your room while you laugh and call out to him to slow down, holding up your dress on the front stairs.

and i imagine the hotel room wouldn’t be extravagant, it’d be a more modest and quaint feel. just somewhere to grant you peace and quiet.

and that’s when you’d be able to decompress and talk endlessly about the ceremony. how you felt, how nervous you were, how excited you were, the funny things your family did, how drunk and how silly people got. how your vows were so beautiful and earnest and sweet and how happy you were to be married.

at his bedside, he takes off his watch. something borrowed. places it down.

come here, he tells you gently.

you walk around the bed to him, as steadily as you did when you crossed the threshold of your aisle.

you look at each other, full of love waiting to get out. unsure of what lies ahead or what to do with it all and yet, still wildly excited to give it.

you wrap your arms around each other to keep your love safe. silence holds you, too, for a long time. you just feel his heart against your face. beating like a hummingbird.

married.

his insides churn with a nervous excitement. you can tell. you feel it too.

then he asks oh so coyly, what do you want to do now?

be with you, you answer simply.

and he chuckles and says, well, that’s easy. and he tilts your chin up and says, you’ve got me. forever.

then you welcome him closer, kissing deeply. your hands feeling for him—his face, his curls, his neck.

everything happens so slowly after that.

the way he gets you out of your dress, pulling the zipper down at the back, carefully slipping your arms from the sleeves. kissing your skin with every slip of the dress until it falls down around your feet and he’s on his knees, kissing your legs like he’s talking to god.

you pull him up to undress him from his shirt. and pants. giving the same treatment to parts of his body. kissing his collar and stomach and hips and thighs.

he jokes about your veil, still fastened to your head. you pull it down and smile at him, rephrasing the moment when he lifted it to kiss you. except now, he just leans in again, his eyes dreamy, and kisses you through it, the fabric melting against his breath and mouth, suddenly so tight on your face it makes you moan.

you kiss that way for a while until he pulls back from it and whispers his love on you.

your eyes were starry as you looked at him, your husband. a title he claimed so eagerly.

i love you, you say. and it’s a promise. a promise you’ll take with you to the grave and beyond.

you both clear the bed of your clothes and bags, eager to make connection again. michael brings you close to him, your bodies flush together, his lips on your neck.

despite the excited flame that burned inside each of you, michael slowed things down again. easing into touch, easing into everything. there was no rush.

he himself shook with nerves and love, wanting this new closeness, hoping the whole thing would come naturally to him. every new sensation, every movement of passion, left the both of you reeling, clinging to each other and gasping

you were like lighthouses guiding each other to shore. you opened yourself for him, the squeeze so blissful, stretching the skin making a glow of red flash behind your eyes. but you just dig your nails in and wait and breathe and he kisses your temple and waits and breaths. and together you eventually find that rhythm. his body rocking against you like the waves kiss the tip of a plunging voyage.

for a long while after, he lays beat on your chest and his thumbs knead your hips while your fingers glide over his back and shoulders. you’re empty and full at once. it’s a magical thing.

if you could, you’d live the day all over again. over. and over. and over. and over. and over and over again.

-

thank you so much for this request it got me in such a lovey mood HEHEH

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DAAAAAAMN marlon was popping out these kids young 😭😭😭😭 im looking at these years like……76……..77……..WHAT

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it’s the way i would let him sleep on me for a long long long long long time

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why tf don’t we talk about man in the mirror? it’s just such a rare thing to see an artist of that magnitude preach about taking accountability for their actions in the world and encouraging their audience to do the same

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Do you have any fic/account recs ?

this is such a lovely question and i’m gonna be so real with yall i actually don’t read full fics and that isn’t even michael specific, ive always been like this HOWEVER i have some wonderful one-shots that came to mind ✨

& also i think these may be well known already (and they are for a reason!!!) but for anyone new to it, i’ll list a couple of favs and their authors so you can devour all they create

TUMBLR

through the keyhole / @michaelsfavgirl DUHHH

the girl is mine / @helloaugustmoon

midnight at club 30 / @plumppies (where did you go💔💔)

seat filler / @anonymouspyt

this fic where mike’s a terrible driver / @writtenbychris

@a-major-love ‘s masterlist but pleaseeeeee get into the time will pass

just michael (🥺🥺🥺) / @cherriesweekend

it’s our anniversary / @starlightz4mj

poetic love / @linaaaa50mj (her work gets me every tiiiiiime)

AO3 (don’t use it for mjfics often but there’s some good stuff on there!!!)

video call / mjsdiiana (who is on tumblr too i believe?)

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1979/off the wall era Michael Jackson on honeymoon with female reader?❤️ If you could do black!reader, that'd be okay too.

it would be so crazy if this isn’t the same person who requested this before bc i’m actually posting this tomorrow LOL

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dark child make a bad song challenge

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YOU NEED LOVE LIKE I DO DON’T YOU⁉️⁉️⁉️

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microdosing the jacksons variety show by only watching clips on reels so that i don’t sob uncontrollably and crash out

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trying to read a mjfic where there are iPhones and social media is such an ick OMGG and idk why like i CANT do it 😭😭

no it’s horrible i don’t find ANY joy in it 😭😭😭

and they always trick me bc it’ll be a pic of thriller mike and then he’s texting her?? i put it down IMMEDIATELY

and i was just thinking abt how i hate when i find out an OC is like a blonde white girl that’s 20 years younger than him

like you’re KIDDING meeeee

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Remember how i sent you some pages of that rabbi shmuley book that had some crazy things that mj said about women?

If I were to do it on mjtwt I think they would find my house and send me to Michael Jackson himself

YES 😭 you’d black out and wake up to HEEHEE

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IN A SENTIMENTAL MOOD

[a sultry jazz club vignette] | 400+ words

WARNINGS: fem!reader, super cute pda & flirting hehehehehe….

with your finger, you trace his hand, its bends and points and veins, turning it over like an artifact you’d dreamt to find. beneath the lamplight his skin shines gold against the red cloth while the rest of him, his face and body, the details on his precious suit, is doused in shade and lingering whispers of club smoke.

“i can read palms, y’know.” you peer up at him, his eyes heavy-lidded, bare lips amused. the shadows strike his visage so well it beguiles even you. your eyes cast down at the map of his hand, doing your best to keep yourself calm beneath your evening shield; a, near obsolete, centimeter of nylon.

cuddling closer, he surrenders his fate to your deftness. your fingers brush over his palm. fingertips glide with a feather-lightness over the dips and lines. you feel his wrist jerk as he giggles into his other hand.

“you’re tickling me!”

“michael!” your laugh is bright and drunken as you tug him back into you. “alright.” you clear your throat, arching your brow in a sternness that broke as quickly as bending a twig over backward. he gives you his undivided attention.

“i see…a life full of success and stardom…you’ll be loved forever and ever and ever…married; a beautiful family…and…you’re entangled with a most gorgeous soul. who happens to be overjoyed to take you home tonight.”

the saxophone goes wild. the crowd erupts in a delighted rapture then settles as the trumpet, sweetly, comes over it, adds its sentiment. the pianist, their forgotten voyeur, tickles the keys lovingly as the ice in your glass begins to melt, the tall body sweating on the tablecloth.

michael seems to forget where he is. that fortunate hand of his comes down and shivers its fingers against that faithful nylon.

“you can see all that?”

he ignites a heat in you like it was simply a label he could find on a dial. his face so close to yours.

“yes…”

a couple on the other side of the booth clink their rims together. another gets up to leave, chairs grinding against the hardwood.

michael, finally, finds your mouth with measured affection. barely allowing himself the pleasure to love on your lips entirely before the musty air of the club was all yours again.

from a glance out into the sea of chairs, a few heads caught your display and stared at you in honest disbelief. captured at the fork of a mesmerized envy, unable to turn away.

he comes in again, hesitating as your smile brushes his kiss.

“they’re watching us…”you mumble against him with semi-caution, but mostly just to state fact. your tone was light with giddiness from his affections, and perhaps the warmth of your since disregarded drink. any semblance of care had long fizzled out in the safety of michael’s embrace—like the band’s long, drawn-out tune.

“let them,” he insists, bringing your focus to him entirely. he was too proud, too in love to notice.

—

for @urdeftonesgrrrl (THANK YOU QUEEN)

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Its just very hivemind like over there, like you have to think and feel the same way about him and practically treat him like an omniscient perfect being who couldn't do no wrong. Like when you point out his flaws, like say how he was in relationships, you get skinned alive because a lot of fans can be self righteous yet hypocritical

that sounds about right 🙄 i feel bad for people who get stuck in environments like that like yall please THINK

his humanness won’t kill you, he won’t be taken away from you i promise 😭

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Well to break it down, one account got exposed as a guilter, one account posted some "tea" from LSA and got ppl mad, then they also joked about flushing his pain medicine down the toilet. More Lisa and Mj discourse, some ppl being racists, it just a lot going on. There's never a day of peace

joking about flushing his pain meds………………omfg

DAMN. no no no i couldn’t do it

like im way too sensitive i can barely even look at accounts on here sometimes im not even gonna lie

also what’s LSA im so sorry 😭