[babybeapplehead]

hiii, i’m yari, 18, black american princess 🜲ྀི

i love michael jackson and this is my space where i admire him! working on writing a bit too!

and let’s be friends guyssss don’t be shy (i’m shy asf.)

🧜🏽‍♀️ masterlist ♡⸝⸝

[mvsticmoony]

issue #1: your friendly neighborhood

summary: Y/N has spent months writing about New York’s favorite masked hero. The only thing she doesn’t know is that every time Spider-Man disappears, her boyfriend is already on his way to her.

content: spider-man!michael jackson x reader. journalist!reader. au. fluff. pictured otw/thriller mj. fluff. proofread but there might be some mistakes.

NYC, 1981

“Look! Look! It’s Spider-Man!” A little boy’s voice echoed across the sidewalk, rapidly drawing the attention of everyone nearby. Conversations died mid-sentence. A businessman stopped checking his watch. A woman carrying grocery bags looked up so quickly she nearly dropped them.

Y/N had been on her way home, struggling with all the papers and files she had been carrying, when she stopped abruptly and followed the kid’s pointing finger toward the skyline.

‘There he is.’ She thought to herself.

A flash of blue and white swinging effortlessly between Manhattan’s buildings, disappearing behind one skyscraper only to reappear from another only a heartbeat later. Graceful and weightless. So smoothly it was almost criminal. Like New York City itself had decided gravity was optional for exactly one person.

A small grin appeared on Y/N’s face as her eyes caught the afternoon sun reflecting off the rhinestones scattered across the single glove Spider-Man wore over his right hand. Nobody knew why only one of his hands sparkled while the other remained hidden beneath the blue fabric of his suit. Rumors ranged from it being good luck to some elaborate superhero technology, but no explanation ever stuck.

It had simply become part of him, you know? The sparkly glove. Whenever the sunlight caught it just right, it flashed across the Manhattan skyline like a shooting star, announcing his arrival before anyone even laid eyes on him.

The crowd collectively gasped and pointed. Some waved. A few children jumped excitedly, convinced he could somehow see them from thirty stories above.

Nobody screamed hysterically anymore, not these days, no.

Spider-Man had become less of a mystery and more of a friendly neighborhood protector. Of course, nobody knew who he was. And nobody seemed particularly interested in ruining the mystery of his identity, There was an unspoken understanding throughout the city that some secrets were meant to stay secrets. And as long as he kept catching muggers before breakfast and dangling purse snatchers from traffic lights, new yorkers were perfectly happy minding their own business.

High above them, Spider-Man released one web and caught another. 

“AOW!” His voice bounced between the buildings.

The little boy burst into laughter. “Oh, he so does that on purpose!” he exclaimed, delighted, pulling at his mother’s elbow for excitement. “Awo!” He mimed in his tiny voice.

Y/N couldn’t help smiling. “He’s such a dork,” she murmured to herself, shaking her head fondly at the familiar figure.

Spider-Man disappeared around another building, only the occasional glimpse of blue between the steel and glass letting the city know he was still somewhere overhead.

She kept watching until he vanished completely into the skyline. A sigh escaped her.

It had become a small routine at this point: whenever she happened to catch a glimpse of him, her day somehow got a little better.

Y/N wasn’t one of those people who collected newspaper clippings or claimed they’d spotted him every other Tuesday. She simply liked the comfort of knowing that somewhere above the city, someone was looking out for it. It made New York feel… safer, in a way.

“One of these days,” she muttered to herself again, adjusting the strap of her tote bag, “Michael will introduce us.”

Her boyfriend, Michael, somehow, possessed the worst timing of any human ever. Which was particularly ironic considering he worked as a photographer for the Daily Bugle.

You see, the two worked for the newspaper, Michael in photography and Y/N writing. Well, now she was starting to call herself 'spider-writer', since their boss and chief editor, J. Jonah Jameson had been making her write solely for one topic and one topic only: your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.

Y/N was starting to get bored, to be honest. People always circled back to the same tedious questions — “WHO IS SPIDER-MAN?” or“HOW DID HE GET HIS POWERS?”. But Y/N had outgrown those wonders—now she had interests in things like why did New York trust him? What was his moral compass? Would he be there whenever needed? Why on earth did he war that bedazzled glove?

At least Jonah allowed her to get into those matters.

Michael, on the other hand, had photographed Spider-Man more than one time. He had sold front-page pictures of him and even claimed the guy was ‘actually really nice’. Meanwhile, Y/N had yet to see Spider-Man do anything more exciting than swing between buildings yelling nonsensical little noises.

He always seemed to catch the interesting parts. She seemed to always miss those spicy bits. It was beginning to feel personal, truly.

What Y/N didn’t know, though—what she couldn’t possibly know— was that she had, in fact, seen Spider-Man every single day face to face. Usually over breakfast, wearing oversized sweaters and apologizing for being more than five minutes late.

🕸️ྀི

“Excuse me!” His voice rang through the air. “Oh, careful there, miss!” He swung from a traffic light to another. “Hee-hee!” He yelled. 

Michael swung through New York as fast as he could, trying to make it to his girlfriend’s apartment before movie night officially became ‘Michael’s late again’ night.

“Oh, shoot!” He cursed as his eye caught the time in a digital watch nearby that hung off a nearby storefront. He looked around for a few seconds and spotted a familiar face shaking their head negatively at him. 

Bill Bray, who Michael considered a friend and was lucky enough to have as father figure, stood with his arms crossed over his chest, a bouquet in one hand and an unmistakable scowl of disapproval on his face, staring at Spider-Man as though he were one of the bad guys.

Michael sighed before dropping directly in front of Bill. The man stood in the street in front of a little flower cart wearing a beige hat, an elderly lady standing behind said cart looking a little taken aback. Her eyes wandered from Bill to Spider-Man a few times before she mimed Bill’s disapproving expression in a very comical way. Spider-Man was truly becoming a regular client nowadays. 

“I know, I know!” Michael complained, voice sounding tired, as he tried to reach for the bouquet. Bill retracted his arm, keeping the flowers out of Michael’s reach. Instead, he reached up and fixed Michael’s blue mask, smoothing it out where it’d shifted. Then he brushed a bit of dust from one shoulder. “Thanks.” Michael said softly. 

And then Bill pointed a sharp finger towards him. “You gotta watch out, kiddo,” He licked his lips. “One day that girl will get tired of these poor excuses of yours!”

Michael sighed again and ran his gloved hand through his face covered by the Spider-Man mask. “She believes me.” He argued. 

“No, no,” Bill cut him off mid sentence. “She loves you! And it’s about damn time you fill her in, and you know it!”

“Yeah, I know, I know.” 

The lady’s eyes darted between Michael and Bill with obvious interest. Then they drifted down to the bouquet. Every week Spider-Man would show up and grab a bouquet. Sometimes it was lilies, sometimes it was sunflowers. This week was sunflowers.

“Does Spider-Man have a special someone?” Curiosity got the best of her and she couldn’t resist in asking.

Spider-Man’s body language changes completely. He scratched the back of his neck and looked away, as if someone could see the blush that crept its way into his cheeks.

Bill rolled his eyes. 

“I, uh—Maybe.” Michael said in a shy tone, a little nervous laugh escaping through his lips.

“Ya know, ‘maybes’ buys flowers every thursday.” The lady mocked, an amused smile crossing her sweet wrinkled face.

“She’s uh,…” He bit his bottom lip underneath the mask. “Ehm, she’s a… a pretty young thing.” You could actually hear his smile.

The florist’s own smile widened. Even Bill fought back a grin.

“Oh?”

“Mhm.”

“And does Pretty Young Thing know she’s dating Spider-Man?”

Michael let out a breathy laugh and shook his head.

“No, she doesn’t and it’ll bite him in the butt!” Bill answered before Michael had the chance. 

“Oh, you must tell her, then!” The lady sided with Bill and Michael (besides recognizing signs of some irritation at their persistence) knew they were right. 

But the thought of it alone made his stomach tighten. Could you imagine if one of enemies found out she mattered to him? That could go wrong really quickly. All it took was one enemy. One photograph. One wrong person putting two and two together. Suddenly Y/N wouldn’t just be his girlfriend—she’d be a target.

And sweet, caring, love-of-his-life, Y/N deserved something as close to normal as he could possibly offer her. And Michael felt selfish enough to keep her as his girlfriend, even if that meant hiding the truth for as long as he could. She was everything to him. Everything.

He let out another sigh before checking Bill’s wristwatch. “Can I go now?” He asked, softly. Tiredly.

Bill clicked his tongue and let out a huff. He extended the bouquet to Michael and let him grab it. 

“Sunflowers are her favorite.” Michael said with a tiny smile taking over his masked lips. “Thanks, Bill.”

“No problem, kiddo.”

“Thank you, ma'am.” He tapped two fingers against his forehead before pointing them toward her with a boyish smile underneath the blue mask. “See ya!”, then launched himself back into the Manhattan skyline.

The florist watched him disappear, then turned to Bill. “He’s hopelessly in it, isn’t he?”

Bill didn’t bother looking up. “Yup.”

“Sweet boy, though.”

“Too sweet for his own good.”

🕸️ྀི

As Michael swung through the familiar streets and avenues on the way to Y/N’s apartment, something caught his attention, like it usually would: an orange cat was stranded on the fire escape of a six-story apartment building, meowing pitifully while an elderly man leaned out of his window a floor below.

"Oh, Mr Buttons…” He pleaded helplessly, one hand over his chest. "Please, please don't jump."

Michael sighed. "Really?" He looked toward the skyline. Then at the cat. Then toward the skyline again. Then at his wrist, which had no watch. Well, was already late. Might as well, right?

"AOW!” he yelled dramatically to absolutely no one before changing courses. A web caught the side of the building and, seconds later, Spider-Man landed smoothly on the fire escape.

"Oh, thank goodness!" The elderly man sighed with relief at the sight of him. Michael waved politely at the man.

He placed the bouquet under one of his arms, trying and hoping too keep it at least, somewhat, secure.

The cat blinked up at him with its enormous amber eyes.

"...Hi."

It let out one tiny, pitiful meow in response. 

Michael smiled beneath the mask. “M’kay, here we go..." He reached out carefully, scooping the orange fluff into his arms.

The transformation was immediate. Claws, teeth and hisses—all at once, everywhere.

"HISSSSS!"

"Oh my god!”

The kitten twisted like it was possessed, every paw going in a different direction. Michael kept trashing around along with the feline, trying to get ahold of it.

Sharp, tiny claws latched onto his forearm. Then his shoulder. Then— "Dang it!" One particularly offended swipe caught him clean across the cheek, getting a small rip through his mask.

At that Michael nearly lost his footing on the fire escape. "Hey, hey!" he pleaded, desperately trying not to drop the tiny menace. "I'm literally rescuing you! C’mon, don’t make this difficult!” The cat responded by attempting to climb onto his head. "No, no, no—we don't need to be up there!"

It hissed again.

“Now you're just being dramatic."

Another hiss.

Michael sighed, gulped and reached one delicate hand out, trying to pet the cat. “I know you're scared." The kitten bit his gloved index finger.

“Ouch!” He jerked his hand away. “Okay, maybe you're just mean."

The cat somehow managed to hook all four paws into his suit at once, dangling from his chest like an angry orange ornament.

Michael sighed.

“Out of all the dangers in the city, this is what will take me…” Michael complained under his breath, slowly starting to turn towards the old man’s window.

He finally managed to peel the cat off his suit one tiny paw at a time, cradling it firmly enough that it couldn't launch into another attack.

The cat glared up at him. Michael glared right back through the white lenses of his mask.

"We are never doing this again." He warned, pointing a sharp finger at the cat.

It sneezed in his face.

Michael closed his eyes. “Alrighty, then.”

A moment later, he lowered the little orange menace safely into its owner's waiting arms. The transformation was miraculous--It immediately began purring.

Michael stared in complete disbelief. "Oh, so now you behave?"

The old man laughed. "Mr Buttons can be... spirited."

"Spirited?" Michael touched the fresh scratch on his cheek, grimacing at the stingy feeling of touching it. “Sir, respectfully, your cat just tried to kill Spider-Man."

The cat blinked innocently.

“Oh, don’t you gimme that look!”

🕸️ྀི

A few moments later he reached the familiar alley he always hid his suit and ‘transformed’ into simply Michael Jackson, the photographer and boyfriend, before going to Y/N’s place.

Michael caught his reflection in the rain puddle at his feet and stared. The suit looked exactly as it always had: royal blue from neck to boots, broken only by crisp white panels sweeping across his shoulders, forearms and sides like the sharp lines of an expensive suit tailored for someone who spent more time in the air than on the ground. A black spider stretched across his chest, its long eight legs blending with the white. The mask's white lenses reflected the city lights back at him, giving away nothing of the tired eyes behind them. His right hand glittered--tons of tiny rhinestones caught even the weakest light, turning the glove into a shooting star whenever he swung between buildings. Most New Yorkers assumed it was part of the costume, some flashy signature, something Spider-Man wore simply because he was Spider-Man.

But in reality, the glove served a purpose: it was stitched with fine grip pads along the fingertips and palm, giving him greater precision whenever he aimed a web or caught the edge of a building at impossible speeds. The rhinestones weren't just decoration: their texture gave his fingers subtle tactile reference points, allowing him to adjust the angle of his wrist without ever taking his eyes off where he was going. The sparkle had simply been Michael's idea.

'If I have to wear it every day,' he'd once reasoned while tailoring the whole suit, 'might as well be pretty.'

He wiggled out of the blue suit before putting it away in a handbag he kept hidden behind a metal trashcan, the rhinestone glove being the last thing he placed inside the bag. He took a deep breath and zipped it shut, placing it hidden and shooting a web at it to keep it secure. You never know, right?

His curls were messy and a few stubborn locks stuck to his sweaty forehaed. Cheeks flushed bright red and the scratch on his left one (curtesy of Mr Buttons) stood out in bloody maroon. He hadn’t notice it, since it had stopped stinging.

Michael jogged with the bouquet in his hand to the familiar building where his girl resided. He finally made his way up to her floor, two steps at a time.

A little disappointed huff left him as he caught sight of the (now ruined) flowers as soon as he reached her door. Couldn’t even get her proper flowers, he thought. Shaking his head, he finally knocked. 

Y/N opened the door about two seconds later, a wondering gaze on her eyes. She was still in her work clothes, dark pants, white shirt and black vest on top. Michael gulped, looking away for a split second. He loved her in those outfits. But then again, he loved her in anything (specially nothing).

She lifted a brow and tilted her head, leaning against the doorway and crossing her arms over her chest. An amused expression crossed her face. “Well, did they fight back, at least?” She asked while nodding towards the wrecked flowers. 

Michael looked down at the bouquet and smiled shyly. “Bravely.” 

Y/N shook her head and reached out for it. She lifted the bouquet up to her nose and took a deep breath, sighing and closing her eyes at the pleasant fragrance. Then, she turned her eyes to Michael’s face, frowning and reaching out delicately for his cheek. She softly crossed her thumb across the bloody scratch. Concern started to kick in.

“Did you get hurt? What happened? Did you get into a fight? Do you need me to-” 

“Baby, baby-” Michael cut her off and took her wrists delicately into his hands. A warm smile appeared on his lips. “I’m okay. Just a scratch, isn't it?” He shook his head, quicly trying to come up wiht a good excuse. “I just, uhm, the camera, you know?”

Y/N narrowed her eyes at his response. “Yeah, right,” She pulled him inside by the arm. “the camera.”

Michael closed the door behind him and pulled Y/N back into him by the wrist, kissing her temple before she made her way to her kitchen, searching for a vase for the flowers. She stopped on her tracks briefly, though, turning around and pecking his lips not once, not twice, but three times. Michael kissed her back, leaning in for more, but was met with nothing but disappointment as she made her way to flower-care.

He looked down in a bummer, but trailed after anyway. That was until something caught his eye. A few papers laid messily around the coffee table in front of her couch, notes scattered and some cut-out newspaper pieces with Spider-Man’s name and pictures. His heart skipped a beat.

Among the scattered newspaper clippings and notes, one hastily written headline immediately caught his eye:

'WHY NEW YORK TRUSTS SPIDER-MAN?'

“Another Spider-Man article?” 

Y/N didn’t bother looking up, concentrated on making the flowers fit the vase. 

“Mhm.” 

“I’m starting to think you have a crush on him.” Michael teased, crossing the living room and placing himself right behind her, arms around her waist and chin resting on top of her head. 

Y/N raised her brows at that, shifting around to face him. Her back was now against the kitchen counter and her front faced Michael. “Well, if anyone has the hots for him, it’s Jonah,” She slipped her arms around his neck, lacing her fingers together behind it. “The man won’t let me write about anything else besides Spidey content. It’s annoying, really.”

“Mhm,” Michael nodded, a teasing smirk on his face. If only she knew how much he enjoyed reading her words on him. “Spidey, huh?” Oh, if only she knew. 

She frowned. “Are you jealous of Spider-Man, Mike?”

“What? No! That’s ridiculous!” He immediately replied.

Y/N burst out laughing at his defensiveness. She shrugged. “Oh, well, at least Spider-Man is pontual!”

Michael let out the most offended little gasp she'd ever heard. “You take that back!”

🕸️ྀི

A few minutes later, they were curled up together on Y/N's couch, wrapped beneath a shared blanket.

Michael managed to keep the bowl of popcorn equilibrated on his stomach as he laid with his head resting on Y/N’s tights. She sat up, a hand playing absentmindedly with his curls. 

About 15 minutes into the movie he fell asleep, little snores coming out of his mouth selling him out.

Y/N was used to it by now and she didn’t mind it—stopped pretended to get upset over it months ago. She carefully reached for the bowl on his stomach, placing it on the table next to her side of the couch before letting her fingers wander back into his hair. She looked down at him and softly ran a finger through the cut in his cheek. 

Before, she meant to clean and take care of it, not wanting him to get it infected or anything. Michael had protested, of course. “It’s barely even a scratch!” He had complained. “It’ll heal on its own.”

Y/N just stared at him looking very unimpressed before cleaning it with antiseptic spray and applying some healing ointment over it.

Michael secretly loved whenever she took care of him. He thanked her afterwards with a kiss.

Now, a warm feeling took over her chest as she stared at him. He was painfully handsome. And Y/N was painfully aware of it. But not only physically beautiful, no. He couldn't walk past someone who needed help without stopping. He remembered everyone's birthday, always gave away more than he kept for himself, and carried the weight of other people's happiness as though it were his own responsibility. Sometimes she worried he cared so deeply about the world that he forgot to leave a little of that kindness for himself.

She brushed another curl away from his forehead, smiling to herself. She loved him. It almost hurt just how much.

Her gaze drifted toward the stack of papers on the coffee table, and her stomach tightened ever so slightly. Jonah had been making her life miserable over the Spider-Man article for days now, despite the fact that the deadline was still a week away.

Her thumb gently brushed another curl away from his eyes. She let her fingertips linger against his cheek, smiling when a tiny snore escaped him. Her thoughts, however, betrayed her once more.

Spider-Man.

Y/N had stopped wondering about his identity long ago. Whoever hid beneath the mask had proven, time and time again, that he loved this city enough to bleed for it. To put strangers before himself. To keep showing up. That was enough for her.

Outside her appartment, the city didn’t sleep.

If you got really quiet, firefighters sirens could be heard several blocks away. Car horns and curses from angry civilians could be heard as well. A police helicopter crossed somewhere above the rooftops. People cursing. Shouting. Laughing. 

All across the city, crime carried on. New York never slept. Neither did danger.

But just for a little while, for just one quiet evening, Spider-Man did. Just for one quiet, rare night off, the mask sat forgotten inside an old handbag hidden in a forgotten alley.

The webs could wait. So could the city. Just for a little bit.

For a moment, Spider-Man allowed himself to be simply Michael Jackson. A shy photographer who was always running late; a hopeless romantic who bought wrinkled flowers every tuesday and who fell asleep on his girlfriend’s lap over movies.

Y/N smiled down at him one last time before closing her own eyes, still hoping Michael would introduce her to Spider-Man, someday. 

And somewhere in the coffee table, an unfinished articled asked:

'WHO IS SPIDER-MAN?'

The answer? Slept quietly in her lap.

Taglist:

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[babybeapplehead]

next era i write shall be the jackson’s late 70’s era mikey. pretty much michael when he was about my age! n we both gonna have afros n be cute hehehe

[babybeapplehead]

michael and his young(er) clothing designer wife who just started a youtube channel for funzies

ur daughter is ‘🐣’ ! (reader doesn’t have a face ofc, i just put the pics for vibes <3. pics from pinterest)

https/www.youtube.com

an unsuccessful attempt at making clothing !! ♡

uploaded march 8, 2011

[VIDEO START]

YOU: okay, how do i… ew not that angle..

you’re fighting with the camera, fixing your hair when you finally place it down in front of where you sit.

YOU: um hello, today i’m a bit busy but i wanted to give you all a little peek into-

🐣: MOOOOMMYYY LOOK AT MY PICTURE I MADE!!!

a tiny hand holding construction paper covered in glitter glue comes up into frame. michael is adamant on not putting the kids’ faces online, so thankfully that’s all that’s visible.

🐣: look! look! look! it’s a present for daddy.

you move back as your daughter completely shoves it in to your face for you to see.

YOU: yes i see it baby! it looks so beautiful! daddy’s gonna love it.

🐣: thank you, i go make more now!!!

little footsteps can be heard running away as you put your hands together and sigh at the camera.

YOU: where was i? … right!

you look around before leaning in as if you’re spilling a secret, and not posting this to the worldwide web…

YOU: okay, don’t tell anyone, but i was thinking of selling some new pieces, something like this?

you point your sketchbook at the camera, the silhouettes showing through the grainy quality. until you’re interrupted by a knock at the door.

MICHAEL: hey mama, what’re you up to?

michael bends down into frame, taking your face into his gentle hands as he gives you a sweet kiss. it makes you blush and smile at the camera as if you were caught in real time.

YOU: babeee! i was making a video…. i need to edit that somehow… i should probably just start over at this point

he makes eye contact with the camera, eyebrows raised before laughing softly.

MICHAEL: ah no no, sorry love i don’t mean to interrupt. just wanna see what my lady‘s been doing. look at all this…

you grab the camera to pan over fabric samples and color swatches. michael’s hands are grazing over them, feeling at the different textures.

YOU: exactly what i was going to show next! the materials im debating on using.

your manicured finger can be seen pointing as you try and explain.

YOU: so i was thinking this one on the skirt, and-

your husband reaches over you, nearly bumping the camera out of your grip.

MICHAEL: lemme see.. this one’s real pretty. and pink. i’ve never seen so much glitter before.

you laugh at how much he’s over exaggerating.

YOU: ….. you literally wore glitter jeans and shoes yesterday, babe! and can you move your big ass hands please? why don’t you go see what your daughter is doing!?

you give up trying to hold the camera steady and just place it back in position. but he’s still sifting through the pile, a shiny gold patch catching his eye.

MICHAEL: wait a minute.. i like this one here.

he picks it up, twirling it in his fingers for a second.

MICHAEL: y’know what you can make outta this?

YOU: what?

michael grins at you.

MICHAEL: an armband!

he holds it up against his arm, modeling it for you. noticing you just staring at him, he gives a breathy laugh.

MICHAEL: what? im serious. wouldn’t it go nice?

he’s looking at his own reflection in the camera now, hitting as many different outrageous poses as possible before getting shy.

MICHAEL: please, make one just for me, baby? i’m puttin’ in a custom order.

his suggestion had nothing to do with the task at hand, but he’s so cute that you can’t even deny him. you can only giggle.

YOU: of course mikey, i’d love to sew you one but i’m trying to work on-

MICHAEL: gee, will you? i can’t wait.

he peppers kisses on your hands and then your forehead, cheeks, and lips, before looking at the camera.

MICHAEL: oh.

YOU: MIKEYYYY-

[CUT]

you’re holding the camera facing yourself, laying on the fluffy carpet now.

YOU: my family won’t allow me to be productive, so im actually gonna call it a day. maybe take a nap! well, that’s if they even let me. bye!

you blow kisses to the screen as your husband’s still meddling around.

MICHAEL: baby, this one would make a nice little swimsuit..

[VIDEO END]

and yes, you made his custom gold armband!

a/n: Try not to write about michael hands challenge. can you tell i’m obsessed with that man’s hands ? whewww. and pls lmk if this format was too much ! wanted it to read like a video but idk if this is any good lmaoaoo. also lets be mutuals pls guysss

[tlcfrmmike]

this look does things to me

[jacksonslyriq]

[babybeapplehead]

yo i need to post this fic n stop reading it over and over and over

[babybeapplehead]

masterlist 🧜🏽‍♀️

my bs writing 4 u, enjoy ~ (or don’t!)

🜲ྀི tiny tiny blurbs

reading glasses

🜲ྀི video diaries

[ ▶︎ ] march 8, 2011

⋆｡°·☁︎ more coming soon . . . !

[1andonlytashae]

The Great Craving Getaway

Timeline: Dangerous era

Pairing: Michael x black reader (wife)

Preview: Your pregnant and home alone when a craving hits. Maybe you can slip out before Michael gets home, right?

Content: Fluffy goodness, protective Michael, bit suggestive at the end.

A/N: On the fence about this one, but hope ya'll enjoy!

As always likes, comments & reblogs are appreciated.

• • • ✧ • • •

Dangerous era: 

Neverland Ranch, Sept 1991; 12:30am 

Comfortably lounging on the couch, you were content with a copy of Rochele Alers’ ‘My Love’s Keeper’, when a sudden urge hit you like a mack truck. The craving for a Mexican pizza and hard shell tacos was instant. 

Rubbing a soothing hand over your 6 months pregnant belly, you hoped the motion would alleviate the sudden kick your son had just delivered to your side. 

“Alright little one, mommy is trying to finish this chapter please.” You cooed. 

As if that wasn’t a good enough reason, he kicked again harder. 

“Well that was just rude, nugget.” You protested, rubbing a palm over the offended area. 

Placing your bookmark and closing the book. You set it down on the table and tossed the throw blanket off your legs. Since you were so rudely interrupted, by your own child no less, it was decided you were venturing out in search of food. 

Luckily Michael was still in the studio working on his latest album, ‘Dangerous’ and wouldn’t be home for at least a couple hours, plenty of time for you to satiate your craving and be back home with no one none the wiser. 

Glancing down at the oversized Spelman sweatshirt, black leggings and white crew socks you wore, it would have to suffice. Sliding your feet into the black birkenstocks resting on the shoe rack by the door, you grabbed your crossbody draping it across your frame and shuffled toward the side door just off the kitchen. 

With keys in hand you locked the door behind you and stepped out into the slightly cool night heading toward your red 300 class Mercedes Benz. Keeping the top up and grateful for tinted windows, you gingerly slid into the seat, sticking the key into the ignition starting the car. 

Jodeci’s sultry and melodic opening to “Come and Talk to Me” filled the space and you said a quick prayer for safe travels and that your husband wouldn’t find out you’d left the ranch. 

──── ✦ ──────── ✦ ──────── ✦ ──

Removing the headset from his head and twisting his neck to relive the stiffness of being in the recording booth for 12 hours straight, Michael was weary and exhausted. A hot shower, soft bed and his wife were the only comforts he wanted now. 

“Hey Mike, that was it man. We’re wrapping for the night!” Teddy Riley’s voice came through the speakers. 

Michael was experimenting with a new sound, ‘New Jack Swing’ and in turn working with Teddy the originator of said sound. The album was shaping up beautifully and at nearly two years, was near completion. 

Being a perfectionist took its toll at times, but he knew it would more than be worth the late nights, worn vocal chords and rushed kisses from his wife. 

Stepping out the booth, Michael bore a tired smile on his angelic face. “Those background vocals are gonna hit just right. I’m pleased with them.” He declared. 

Flicking his wrist, he noted the time; quarter to one. Definitely time to get home to my babies. He thought. 

“I’ll be in tomorrow afternoon Teddy, have a good night man.” Michael announced as he gathered his black fedora and sunglasses in hand and left the studio. 

He found Bill waiting for him in the idling car. Not wasting a moment, he opened the rear passenger door and damn near collapsed onto the soft seat. 

Without fully turning, Bill let a small chuckle escape. “Bout wore yourself out again huh Joker?” 

“The price of fame and perfection Bill, but I miss my bed and my wife.” Michael huffed out a tired sigh. 

“Then let’s get you home so you can be welcomed by both.” Bill suggested as he pulled off into the sleepy California night. 

    ───── ✦ ──────── ✦ ──────── ✦

Nodding off under his fedora, Michael’s sleep laden eyes peered open when the car came to a stop. 

“Michael, you’re home. Gone head and get some rest cat, I’ll see you later today.” Bill announced. 

“Thanks Bill, good night.” Michael yawned. 

“Night son.” Bill lightly chuckled with a small shake of his head.

Michael exited the vehicle sluggishly and ambled toward the front door. Unlocking and pushing the door open, he noted the soft glow of a lamp supplying the only source of light. Walking fully into the foyer, he gently closed the door so as not to startle or wake you. 

However, unknown to Michael you were presently nowhere to be found in the house. 

Following the faint brightness as if a fairy was dropping pixie dust, his eyes flicked around the family room expecting to possibly see your smiling face but only a forgotten book and rumpled throw blanket remained. 

Assuming you were probably in bed fast asleep, Michael made his way up the winding staircase, mindful of creaking steps. Reaching the top of the landing he removed his fedora and tugged the ponytail holder from his loose curls. 

Pulling a hand through the strands, he detangled a few knots, silently wishing they were your fingers instead. He always enjoyed the scalp massages and the way your nails felt against the nape of his neck. 

Padding silently into the bedroom, he was grateful for the guidance of the bed side lamp on his night stand so he didn’t stumble and disturb you. Placing the fedora and ponytail holder on the couch in the sitting area of your shared bedroom, Michael stopped short. 

Frozen for just a moment, he turned his head almost owlishly and finally noticed the empty, perfectly made bed. 

Brows furrowing and nose scrunched, he scratched his head. 

“Tink, where you at girl?” he called out, the old nickname slipping past his tongue with ease

Darting to the bathroom, it was empty. The spare bedrooms on the second floor, no signs of life. 

Racing in and out of the kitchen, theatre room, study and sunroom calling out your name, a sense of panic started creeping up Michael’s spine and came to breathe on his neck. 

“Baby, answer me please!” Michael’s anxious voice rang out. 

──── ✦ ──────── ✦ ──────── ✦ ───

In no time flat you’d reached your destination, Taco Bell  and were rocking from side to side happily as you pulled into the drive thru. Mouth practically salivating, you came to a stop in front of the speaker box. 

“Welcome to Taco Bell, what can I get you?” 

“Hello, yes can I get a number four with extra sour cream on the pizza please?” You ordered with excitement. 

“Sure and what would you like for your drink?” 

“Hmm, it’s late so I’ll get a Sierra Mist please.” You replied. 

“Alright, I have a number four with extra sour cream on the Mexican pizza with a Sierra Mist for the drink. Any sauces for you ma’am?”

“Yes, hot and mild. Oh oh and can I have light ice in the soda please?” You chirped. 

“Sure thing. Please pull forward to the first window for your total.” 

“Thank yooou!” you responded in a sing song voice. 

Paying for your order, you double checked the bag making sure everything was inside and correct. Not making your baby wait any longer, you parked in the closest space, shut the ignition off and pulled out a taco. 

“Mmm, come to mama!”

That poor taco never stood a chance! Tearing open a packet of mild sauce, you drizzled the condiment over the top and took your first bite. 

HEAVEN!

Devouring the fatty goodness, you let the flavors settle on your tongue long enough to finish the crunchy stuffed shell in a few bites. Wiping your mouth of any crumbs, you took a few swigs of soda and balled up the used wrapper. Tossing it into the bag on your front seat, you placed a hand on your stomach. 

“Alright baby boy, let’s get home ASAP cause I think your daddy should have left the studio by now.” You voiced with a hint of apprehension. 

You knew it would be a bit risky slipping out this late, but you figured with Michael’s schedule the odds would be in your favor. So color you surprised, when you arrived at the front gate and Bobby, the night guard on watch stopped you.

Bringing your car to a stop, your window crept down. Peering out the window, the hairs on the back of your neck raised as if in warning. 

Bobby ambled over, approaching your door with a heavy sigh. 

“Mrs. Jackson, I promise I didn’t give anything away but he called down here asking if I’d noticed you leaving the property. I told him it was the middle of a shift change and I hadn’t seen or heard anything amiss.” He assured you solemnly. 

Dropping your head, you closed your eyes and groaned. “Oh shit, I’m in trouble.” you murmured dejectedly. 

“I’m sure he’ll be more worried and relieved than upset darlin.” Bobby reached in patting your arm in encouragement. 

With a huff, you inched toward the main house not in a hurry to face your husband’s handsome face contorted with worry. 

Parking in your usual spot, just outside the garage, you grabbed your food and drink heading into the house.  The first thing you noticed was how bright everything was, it appeared Michael had illuminated the entire house in his search for you. 

Setting the bag on the kitchen island, you placed your keys next to it. 

In a blur of red and black, Michael was upon you, cupping your face in his hands. 

“Where the hell were you Tink? I was going outta my mind girl!” Michael stepped back, assessing your body from head to toe, ensuring you and his son were safe. 

Laying steady and gentle hands on his forearms, you started soothing him in slow broad strokes. 

“Breathe baby, we’re fine. I just stepped out for some food.” You assured him in your melodic voice. 

At six months pregnant with your first child, Michael constantly worried and waited on you hand and foot so your little late night adventure was bout to give him a heart attack. 

A few minutes ambled by before his heart rate stabilized and his chest stopped heaving. Like a switch was flipped, irritation and a bit of anger flooded Michael’s brain.

“So you mean to tell me, you went to get food this late at night? Didn’t even think to call and let me know you’d be leaving the house?”

Ducking your head, your pretty brown eyes peered up at Michael from under your long doll like lashes. 

“Well, the baby was hungry and I really wanted a Mexican pizza.” You pouted, hoping the innocent act would play in your favor. 

“Tuh!” Michael folded his arms across his broad chest. “Baby, I love you but you puttin’ yourself and our son at risk for fast food ain’t it.”

At that moment, you’d wished you had gotten him a chicken enchilada. Damn, girl. The little devil on your shoulder tsked. 

“In my defense, I thought I’d have plenty of time to go and come back without you even knowing. Blame the kid, he wanted Mexican food and it wasn’t like I was gonna cook this late.” You retorted. 

No longer able to resist, you made a move for your food, reaching into the bag to pull out the remaining hard taco supreme. Grabbing packets of sauce, you poured the hot and mild combination on top and stuffed your face. 

Michael just stood there in mild disbelief and amusement watching you scarf down the taco. 

“What?” you asked, mouth full. 

Reaching out to your extended stomach, Michael rubbed gently. 

“You’d better get your fill son, cause ya mama is still in trouble.” He spoke to his son while staring you dead in the eyes.

Gulping down the rest of the taco, you knew that look. Michael had a storm brewing behind his big soulful eyes which usually brought a heady mix of both pleasure and pain. 

“M–michael baby, it’s late. Don’t you wanna get some rest, I know it’s been a long day for you.” You tried redirecting. 

A dark chuckle left his lips, “Nah mama, I’m wide awake now since my pregnant wife decided to sneak out of our home and damn near scare me to death. Now I’ve gotta remind you what happens when you’re a bad girl.” 

Bending to place a kiss on your forehead, he snaked a hand behind you and delivered a swift slap to your ass. 

“Oooh” You shrieked, getting aroused.

“Finish your food baby, when you’re done, meet me upstairs in 15 minutes. And don’t make me wait, Tink.” 

Strolling out of the kitchen, Michael made his way back up the winding staircase with a smug strut. 

No, that man didn’t just leave you horny in the middle of the damn kitchen with an ache between your thighs. 

Rubbing your swollen belly, you cut into your pizza that you’d placed on the island. 

“That’s your damn daddy and he knows he’s too slick for his own good.” you grinned. 

With a speed you didn’t know you possessed, you polished off the pizza and finished your soda. Tidying up the kitchen of your trash, you flicked the light switch, plunging the space into darkness. 

Sauntering up the staircase, you couldn’t keep the extra sway out of your hips in anticipation of the punishment that awaited you. 

• • • ✧ • • •

Tag list:

@wildpandorasky, @thebabykashmere, @multifandomposts-blog, @pytafterdark, @brownsugarletters, @bawdylanguageee

[babybeapplehead]

wanna listen to this on a sunny day and eat froyo 🍦 <3

[appleheadcutie]

a splash of kisses!

————otw era!michael x fem!reader————

summary: michael invites you to join him and his family at a water park they rented out but as he does, j*e says some hurtful stuff so he comes over and you comfort him, hoping to bring back his excitement which also ends in a bunch of cute kisses. later at the water park he misses your kisses and finds an excuse to pull you away for some!

warning: kisses, small makeout sesh, established rlsp, j*seph being rude to michael, angst and fluff

a/n: lowkey have had like no ideas but this popped up!! divider creds to @uzmacchiato!

you’re sitting at home, bored on your bed doodling random little shapes, also a few of michael. you’re thinking about michael and how you missed him like crazy even though you just saw him yesterday. all of a sudden, the phone rings. you pray that it’s him and your prayers were answered and you heard his cheerful voice over the phone,

“hey baby! how are ya?”

“i’m great now that you’ve called me!” you giggled, knowing that would fluster him a bit.

before he got the chance to speak you hear another voice cut him off. ugh, joesph.

“michael, who the hell you callin’?” he spoke in such a demanding tone, it even scared you a bit. you hear michael timidly explaining that he was just calling to invite you. joseph grunted before responding, “you always doing something extra boy, why can’t you just leave things be.” before michael could respond you hear joseph walking away muttering, “useless boy.”

there’s silence on the phone for what feels like 10 minutes but is really only like 3 seconds. michael speaks first, always quick to apologize. “i-i’m so sorry about that—“

“nono don’t apologize, it’s not on you, we’ll talk about it later yeah?” you made sure to offer support because after dating michael for a year and a half, you know that anything his father says truly does get to him.

his response comes out small, “..yeah alright.”

you feel a bit sad now that his excitement disappeared. “don’t let him change your mood baby, please. he doesn’t know what he’s talking about, okay? now, what were you gonna ask me about baby?”

although not much you hear a slight smile through his next words. “okay, m’sorry, but uh moving on, my family rented out a water park and we were gonna go and i was hopin’ you could come with us..?”

“ooh really? i’d love to go!! what time?”

“we were gonna leave in the next hour but if you wouldn’t mind i was hoping to go over to your house until it’s time to leave..”

you know why he wanted to come and you’re glad he asked and hope you can cheer him up before you guys leave to the waterpark.

“yes of course! i’ll be getting ready and waiting for you alright?”

you could hear him get happier just from your acceptance. he let out a relieved sigh before talking, “alright i should be there in 10”

“okay, see you baby!”

“bye mama.”

the line clicks shut and you start to get ready, you look for your cutest swimsuit, also the one you know michael loves. along with that, you grab a cute matching coverup to wear until you actually get in the water. you change quickly and grab sunscreen off the desk, massaging it over your body.

as you’re finishing up, applying it to your arms you hear the doorbell ring and practically skip to the door, rubbing the last bit of sunscreen in. you open the door and of course find michael sadly he isn’t smiling though. you pull him into a hug and he gives you one back, squeezing you tight. you wave to bill and he waves back before you close the door and walk to your room, michael still hugging you.

you guys sit on the bed and michael reluctantly releases you from the hug. he looks at his lands in his lap, fidgeting with them. you place your hand on his, squeezing once to ground him.

“angel face.. talk to me.”

“i-im fine it’s really not a big deal..”

“mikey. i know you, just talk to me about it, please?”

“i— okay.. i just feel like he always is there to ruin and take away my happiness, like i don’t deserve it. i try so hard, i really do! he’s always calling me useless and ugly and it really does get to me..” he looks at you for a few seconds while talking but then looks back down to your hand holding his but you don’t fail to notice the tears glazing over his eyes.

you place your other hand underneath his chin, moving his head to face you, hoping he looks at you. he does thankfully.

“michael believe me when i say this, in no way, shape, or form are you undeserving of happiness. for all that you go through and the amazing kind things that you do. you deserve so much, truly. you aren’t useless at all either, you bring so much joy to others though many things you do, music and all. you bring so much joy into my life michael, i love you so much for that and for many more reasons and regardless if he thinks you’re ugly or not, i don’t. in fact i think you’re the most gorgeous man ever. i love everything about you, your kind bubbly personality, your love for animals, your love for helping people, your unwavering kindness, and absolutely stunning face with those beautiful eyes,” you press a kiss to the outer corner of his eye, “gorgeous nose,” you press another kiss to his nose, “cute cheeks,” you kiss the apple of both his cheeks, “and your world healing smile.” you leave a nice long kiss one his lips which he doesn’t fail to return.

you look back up at him after the kiss, he’s blushing quite hard and is extremely flustered but his eyes are still glazed over but this time because he’s so overwhelmed by your kindness and love for him.

he pulls you into a hug, super tight.

“hey, hey angel c’mon don’t cry on me! let’s go have fun yeah?”

“i’m okay mama, i jus’ love you so much. you always there f’me thank you.” he looks into your eyes with so much love your heart is about to explode.

he gives you another kiss and you wipe a tear that manages to slip. “i love you too apple head. i’m always here for ya.” he hums in response and you lock your hand into his. a comfortable silence falls over you both. he lays his head on your shoulder but after trying not to you start giggling, “michael your hair is tickling me!”

“oopise!” he chuckles and lifts his head. “alright, i’m ready to go now, i’m sure bill is wondering why we’re taking so long.”

he gets up now, hand still interlocked with yours and pulls you up. you guys make it to the car, laughing and smiling.

finally, after what feels like an eternity, you arrive at the waterpark. it’s pretty big and you’re already excited and michael is right there with you! you both get out of the car, almost bouncing with excitement, still holding hands as you meet up with the rest of the jackson.

you briefly let go of michael to hug his brothers and sisters and greet his mother and reluctantly his “father”. you slide a nasty side eye to joseph which he thankfully doesn’t notice but michael does making him laugh out loud, tito and jermaine staring at michael like he’s crazy. everyone gets settled in the main pool, getting used to the cold water clashing with the heat of the california sun. after calling each other cowards and daring each other, the brothers all go to enjoy the slides, dragging michael with them. (he loves the slides but he doesn’t wanna leave you) you’re left with his sisters and you guys are enjoying some silly gossip and after 15 minutes get bored of the pool and wanna join everyone else on the slides while michael’s parents stay seated under the shade. you light up a bit at this because it means you can see michael and the sisters notice, teasing you.

“wow, you really do love michael huh, you light up so quick.” janet laughs and latoya with her.

“oh hush! let’s just go!” you wave a hand, jokingly brushing them off and getting out of the pool.

after walking around for a bit you see them all getting ready to climb another flight of stairs and when michael sees you he meets you half way and hugs you, like you didn’t just see him 15 minutes ago.

everyone spilts into groups for each slide, rearranging every time you ride on different slides. of course michael tries to be in your group every time but it doesn’t always go in his favor to which he frowns and you just laugh at him.

whenever you guys did get in the same group, he kept trying to steal kisses from you but couldn’t and you wouldn’t let him because everyone was there, and it’s not that you were embarrassed of him or your relationship, never, you were just a bit shy about doing that in front of them especially knowing how much they would tease you two.

around an hour and a half later, you guys were back in the main pool after riding like all of the slides. you needed to use the bathroom but didn’t know where it was.

“hey does anyone know where the bathroom is?” immediately after you finish your sentence no one gets a chance to respond before michael does,

“i do, c’mon ill take you.” he smiles at you

“damn michael that was fast.” randy laughs and everyone laughs along with him before going back to what they were doing before.

michael gets out of the water and being the gentleman he is, helps you out too even though you don’t need it. the whole walk there he’s acting smug but still talking to you. you brush it off as pride because he answered first finally you guys make it to the bathroom.

you get out but can’t find michael, you turn the corner and he jumps to scare you. unfortunately it works..

after screaming you playfully hit his chest. “you’re so annoying.” which you both know is a complete lie.

“m’sorry! i had too!”

he pulls his hand from behind his back to reveal a flower that he places in your hair. “i think the flower is jealous..” he teases.

“why would it be?” you play into his joke, still not knowing where he was getting at.

“it’s because you’re so pretty.” he replies with this smug but also somehow cute grin on his face.

“oh hush michael!” you blush and look away, your lips pressed into a smile but he doesn’t let you. his hand moves from the flower in you hair to your chin, pulling your gaze back towards him. “you really are pretty though, i hope you know.” he looks you up and down, biting his lip.

and before you get the chance to respond he kisses you. it lasts for quite some time before you pull away to breathe. he presses a kiss to you cheeks and nose. “gosh, i’ve missed you all day you know that? these people getting in the way of me kissing you.” he rolls his eyes and he really does mean it, he gets annoyed whenever he can’t kiss you.

you giggle and get you’re about to tease him and as if he senses it, he kisses you again, more passionate this time. you kiss him back with the same energy, and he increases his, and you can feel him smirking through the kiss. you feel his tongue begin to explore your mouth and you follow that same action. a soft sound involuntarily leaves your mouth. that makes michael happy and even more bold.

he pulls back an inch only to go back in but this time biting your bottom lip and sucking on it a bit. he pulls back again, you both notice the string of saliva between both of your lips before it breaks off and you lick your lips. there’s this insanely hot smirk plastered on his face that makes you want to faint.

he goes back in for another kiss, this one also passionate. you pull back first, “mikey you know we gotta go back right?”

“ugh, don’t remind me ma.”

“listen, i missed you too you know? when we go back we can chill in your room and you can kiss me as much as you want there, i promise.”

he lights up at that promise. “i hope you know, i will take you up on that offer.”

“trust me baby, i know.” he grabs your hand and you guys walk back, of course he stops to kiss your head and your face a few times.

you make it back to the pool and immediately marlon starts talking, “damn, it took yall long enough, the hell was yall doin’?” you and michael give each other a knowing glance before you look back at marlon, “nothing, michael just got us lost for a bit.”

“suree..” janet says suspiciously, you already know she’s gonna question you later.

michael gives you another look before you both get back into the pool. immediately janet and latoya start questioning you but you avoid it or give vague answers.

“hm.. that a pretty flower though i wonder where it came from.” janet questions teasingly

“just.. something that magically appeared ya know?” you laugh at their frustration and try and forget about the whole thing, their interrogation and the bathroom trip with michael, the butterflies in your stomach not helping, but michael keeps catching your eye and smiling the whole rest of the time.

a/n: sorrey guys i haven’t been posting i had like no ideas but i rlly hope ygs like this one cs i lowk love it!!🤧

[ap-ple-head]

playboy

pairing: old man mike x reader and her first generation iphone  mature era!michael x reader

summary: michael is old and doesn’t understand phones. that’s it. that’s the plot.

word count: 332

author’s note: this was written in like five minutes, i just had to get it off my chest okay?

(tell me y'all have seen this)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“What are you doing over there?” Michael peered at you over the top of the glasses resting on the bridge of his nose.

You didn’t answer, nearly doubled over with silent, hysterical laughter. 

He had been sitting in his chair reading a book while you sat on the couch, absorbed in a video on your iPhone. The volume was too low for Michael to hear, but apparently, it was hilarious.

“C’mon. I like to laugh.” Michael closed the book and put it down on the coffee table. 

“‘s nothing.” You giggled without looking up.

He frowned, getting up and walking towards the couch, holding out his hand like he expected you to give him the phone. 

“No way.” You shook your head, holding it tight to your chest so he couldn’t see what was on the screen, like a kid who’d been caught watching something they shouldn’t.

“Let me see.” He was getting whiny, which only tickled you more.

From your phone, a small, familiar voice kept talking: “Go on, sit down!” 

Michael’s eyes widened first in recognition, then his brows furrowed in confusion. “Is that me?”

When you didn’t answer, he finally snatched the phone from you, revealing the video you had been watching. “The Jackson Five Interview, 1970.”

On the screen, little Michael was sitting in a yellow chair almost the exact same color as his shirt, cup of orange juice next to him, flipping through a Playboy magazine. 

“Michael, they filming you!” One of his brothers called from the background, and little Michael sheepishly snapped the magazine shut. In front of you, the look on grown-up Michael’s face sent you from silent laughter into a full blown cackle.

“How did you get this?!” He looked so flabbergasted that tears started to form in the corners of your eyes. “YouTube, Michael.” 

“What is Youtube?” 

You reached for your phone and grabbed it back, straightening up on the couch and patting the spot next to you. 

“Come here. I’ll show you.”

[ladyinhislife]

to add onto the concept of mature! michael not knowing how to use a phone… how about a freaking iphone

like this man would just give up entirely tbh

of course mature! michael would never text, always call— and when you don’t answer he’s always leaving you some voicemail! and his lips would be pressed against that iphone cause he doesn’t know where to talk into: “Hi love, please get back to me as soon as you can. I dialed you six times now. I love you, bye.” followed by mumbling and small taps on the screen before he hangs up.

and when you text him, mature! michael would always send videos of his responding talking into the camera, glasses propped onto his nose and chin titled up like he’s still figuring the phone out.

and when does learn to type?? this man is slow as hell and uses one finger !!😭😭

“just give me the phone,” you’d tell him after watching him type one sentence with his pointer finger for the past 5 minutes.

[babybeapplehead]

i love when ppl write him old asf LMAOO

[femalekanye]

omfg

[plumppies]

On every June 25th, we should be allowed to beat up at least 1 of Michael’s opps

[angelfcee]

Gone for seventeen years, but never absent from the playlists, the memories, or the hearts of those who grew up with your music ᰔ

[babybeapplehead]

love and miss him forever and ever