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I'd time travel JUST to be apart of a Soul Train dance line 😫💕

Video credits to @mjjshistory on TikTok.

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im sorry but i have to admit...i love carrot cake 😞 I CANT HOLD IT IN ANYMORE IM SORRY

Oh really . . .

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WHY

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March 1st, 1988 • Michael Jackson presents The United Negro College Fund with a $600,000 check at a press conference held by Pepsi in New York, NY

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’The band used to bet on whether Michael was getting excited during the song. Now I say that’s a stretch.’

-Sheryl Crow

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his cuckle

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✞ 666 ✞

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One dance with me, one dance, and she'll be mine.

Vampire in Brooklyn (1995) dir. Wes Craven

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The Martyr of Saint Michael

{10/15/2024}

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I'm totally not emotional over this 🙃

Video credits to @michaelswingss on TikTok.

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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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Michael Jackson - Dirty Diana live (Rome, 1998)

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Love of my life.