⊹ ʬʬ 𓈒 ׄ @darlingmichael - Tumblr Blog

just four weeks . ۫ ꣑ৎ .

𑣲⋆ summary : you begin settling into life at your summer camp job you took in attempt get out of the house, gradually growing closer to your cabin mates. during a chaotic morning of icebreakers, you and michael quickly become favourites among the campers who waste no time teasing you both on being a couple.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ late 70s camp counsellor!michael x camp counsellor!reader

a/n : first off, i’m not american nor have a been at a summer camp in the 70s so im going off gut instincts if what id think would happen and you’re going to go with ok cool— also i plan to make this a series so if this part is taken well then ill do part 2 soon yayyyy

summer always sounded a lot better when other people talked about it.

for everyone else, it seemed to arrive with plans already attached—beach trips, late-night drives, constant friendly get togethers at the local park, sneaking out to drink, parties etc. etc.

for you, it mostly arrived with silence. the kind that settled over the house by mid-morning that made the ticking of the clock in the kitchen seem louder than it actually was.

most days, you drifted from room to room without much purpose. flipping through whatever magazine was closest to you, scanning disinterested down the pages. staring into the fridge for the eighth time that day for something to eat out of pure boredom.

you told yourself you liked being alone—sometimes you did, but there was a difference between choosing solitude and having it chosen for you.

by the second week of summer, the days had started blending together—wake up, eat, waste the day away in your room, sleep, and repeat.

one afternoon, while at your nearest supermarket to run the errands your mum forced on you in an attempt to get you out of the house, you spotted a job listing splattered on a window nearby.

‘summer councillor job needed. four-week residential programme. no experience necessary.’

you almost laughed when you couldn’t think of a job less suited to you.

the listing was filled with smiling groups of teenagers standing by lakes and campfires, all of them looking like the kind of people who had never struggled to start a conversation in their lives.

you stared at it for longer than you meant to—looking specifically at how happy they all looked, especially compared to how to you felt locked away in the house for the past two weeks.

reaching for a pen in your jacket pocket, you took note the number provided and made a mental note to call it once you got home.

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ —

you quickly found yourself standing in a crowded parking lot at six in the morning with a duffel bag slung over your shoulder and a growing suspicion that you’d made a terrible mistake

a yellow bus sat idled near the curb with fellow counsellors and staff milled around in small groups, already talking as if they’d known each other for years.

awkwardly adjusting the straps of the bag on your shoulder, you make your way over to the bus. it was already half full by the time you climbed aboard—the driver barely glancing at your ticket before waving you down the aisle.

conversations buzzed all around you. some people already seemed to know each other, talking across seats and laughing over stories you weren’t part of. others sat alone like you, clutching bags on their laps and staring out windows.

you chose an empty seat near the middle—not too close to the front, yet too close to the back. the worn vinyl squeaked beneath you as you sat down. your duffel bag shoved beneath your feet, and after a moment of hesitation, you rested your forehead against the cool glass of the window.

outside, more counsellors trickled into the parking lot, and one by one, they climbed aboard. before no time the seats gradually filled and the noise grew louder.

your stomach twisted in worry that maybe this had been a mistake—you weren’t suddenly going to become a different person because you’d signed up for a summer job.

four weeks at a camp wouldn’t magically make you more outgoing, more interesting, or better at talking to people.

the thought settled heavily in your chest but you could dwell on it any longer when the bus lurched forward—a few conversations paused, the parking lot slowly disappeared behind you.

and just like that, there was no backing out—the town gradually fading behind you into stretches of countryside.

fields rolled past the windows in broad patches of green and gold. telephone poles flickered by in steady intervals. occasionally, you’d catch sight of an old farmhouse tucked between clusters of trees before it disappeared from view again.

the further you travelled, the fewer buildings there seemed to be—soon it was mostly forest. tall pine trees crowded the roadside, casting shifting shadows across the bus whenever the sun slipped behind them. the air outside appeared heavy with summer heat.

you listened to the low hum of conversation around you. eventually, your thoughts drifted elsewhere.

before you knew it, several hours had passed.

the first glimpse of camp came through the trees, a wooden sign stood near the entrance.

‘camp pine ridge’

the bus gradually slowed before turning on a gravel road and almost immediately, the atmosphere changed.

small wooden cabins appeared between the pines, a dining hall sat near the center of camp, its wide porch already crowded with people moving back and forth. beyond that, you caught a glimpse of sparkling water from the lake through the trees.

the bus hadn’t even stopped yet and already the place felt alive—children ran between buildings carrying duffel bags nearly as large as themselves, parents shouted last-minute instructions through open car windows, counsellors crossed paths carrying boxes, clipboards and armfuls of supplies.

the moment the bus doors opened, the noise doubled, stepping down onto the gravel and behind hit with warm air in the face.

somewhere nearby, a whistle blew, a little girl raced past clutching a stuffed rabbit, two boys were already arguing over who got the top bunk, someone dropped an entire suitcase which earned a groan from a counsellor whilst another laughed—it was definitely chaotic, but not unpleasant.

for the first time all day, you found yourself smiling—maybe four weeks here wouldn’t be so bad after all.

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ —

after check-in, you were directed toward the staff office—a tired-looking woman sitting lazily behind a desk handed you a key attached to a wooden tag.

“cabin four,” she stated groggily, clearly already fed up by the first hour. “three roommates.”

before you could ask who they were, she was already helping the next person in line.

you stared down at the rusted key in your palm.

‘three roommates.’

wonderful.

the knot in your stomach returned, asking yourself ‘what if they don’t like me? what if i make a shit first impression?’

cabin four sat slightly apart from the others beneath a cluster of pine trees. it wasn’t much to look at—weathered wooden walls, a small porch out front, a screened window on either side. the building looked like it had been standing there for decades.

inside, it smelled faintly of pine, dust and old wood. two bunk beds lined the walls with a narrow dresser stood between two windows. sunlight spilled across the floorboards in golden rectangles.

you dropped your bag beside one of the lower bunks, claiming it before anyone else could.

i mean, at least you’d gotten there first you thought, soon unpacking all your belonging in the space of ten minutes.

after that, there wasn’t much left to do except wait.

the cabin door soon opened—a girl stepping inside carrying two bags and immediately sighed with relief.

“oh, thank god,” she sighed of relief before letting out an nervous giggle. “i was starting to think i got lost.”

she couldn’t have been much older than you. dirty blonde hair fell to her shoulders in loose waves, and freckles dusted her nose. she wore faded denim shorts and a yellow blouse that had clearly been wrinkled sometime during the journey.

“i’m mary,” she states, holding her hand out in front of you.

you introduced yourself and in minutes she was unpacking too, chatting comfortably as though you’d known each other longer than the reality of five minutes.

the next arrival came shortly after—a tall brunette guy squeezed through the doorway carrying enough luggage for an entire family, unsure how he’d managed it.

“please tell me there’s room left.”

mary pointed at the empty bunk opposite. “there y’go.”

“life saver,” he exasperated, dropping his bags beside it with a dramatic groan.

“eric, by the way.”

after another round of introductions, he immediately launched into a story about nearly missing the bus that morning which earned a laugh from you and mary.

you found yourself relaxing a little, that maybe sharing a cabin wouldn’t be so bad.

the three of you were midway through conversation when the door opened for a third time.

this time, the newcomer paused in the doorway.

dark curls framed his face beneath the afternoon sunlight spilling through the open door. he wore a simple button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled neatly to his elbows and carried a duffel bag over one shoulder.

for half a second, you thought he looked vaguely familiar before it clicked.

not because anyone reacted or that there was some dramatic revelation, just familiarity—the jackson 5, michael jackson.

you’d seen him on television before. i mean, it was hard not to when nearly every station had him and his brothers plastered on it.

though standing here now, he looked far more like another counsellor arriving for work than someone you’d occasionally seen performing on stage.

“oh,” eric said. “michael jackson.” he spoke out nonchalantly, relatively calm at the fact such a well-known star was stood in front of him.

michael gave a shy nod in agreement. “yeah.”

there was no fanfare, no excitement, just basic acknowledgement of his existence.

“cool,” eric replied with an approving nod.

and that was apparently the end of that. michael claimed the remaining bunk on top of eric’s and began unpacking himself—quietly and efficiently.

while mary and eric slipped back into conversation, he mostly listened—occasionally responding when spoken to.

you didn’t have much of an opinion on him yet—he wasn’t rude, but he wasn’t particularly friendly either, just reserved.

still, as the four of you settled into your cabin and the sounds of camp drifted through the open windows, you couldn’t shake the feeling that these people—complete strangers only hours ago—were about to become a very large part of your summer.

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ —

the following morning, a whistle cut through the morning air to signal for the camp to begin to wake up.

you jerked awake before you even understood why, blinking up at the unfamiliar wooden ceiling above your bunk. for a few disoriented seconds, all you could do was stare as the events of yesterday slowly came back to you.

oh, right.

a low groan rose from somewhere across the room, followed by the sound of a pillow being aggressively dragged over somebody’s head.

“ugh, you’ve gotta be kiddin’ me.” mary’s voice was muffled beneath several layers of blanket, but her inner-misery came through loud and clear.

the cabin still held that cool early-morning chill that lingered before the summer heat properly settled in for the day. pale sunlight filtered through the windows, painting thin golden stripes across the floorboards and climbing slowly up the opposite wall. outside, you could already hear movement around camp—doors opening and closing, distant voices and another whistle somewhere farther away.

on the other side of the room, eric leaned over the side of his bunk with the exhausted expression of a man returning from war.

“it’s six o’clock,” he announced to nobody in particular. “there are children in this camp who are probably still asleep. why am i awake before them?”

“‘cause we made poor life decisions,” mary remarks.

a laugh escaped your nose before you could stop it. across the room, michael had already pushed himself upright and was sitting on the edge of his bunk above eric, staring down at the commotion below. his curls were slightly flattened on one side from sleep and his lips slightly swollen.

“y’all look terrible,” he addressed, taking in the sluggish sight before him—hair frizzed to the brim, pillows over faces, blankets half onto the floor.

mary immediately sat up at his insult, glaring up at him through her eyebrows.

“how do you look awake already. that’s suspicious.”

michael shrugged. “maybe i’m jus’ better at mornings.”

“no one is better at mornings,” you retaliate, voice hoarse with sleep, rubbing your eyes roughly with the heels of your hands in an attempt to rub the sleep out of your eyes.

“exactly,” eric sleepily agreed with a nod. “jus’ not a thing.”

the conversation continued as everyone slowly dragged themselves into consciousness. somehow, despite only knowing each other for less than a day, the awkwardness that had lingered in the cabin yesterday evening had begun to wear away. not entirely, but enough that nobody felt the need to sit in silence anymore.

it was strange, but entertaining—yesterday they had all been strangers, and today you were already arguing about breakfast before you’d even left your beds.

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ —

you quickly threw on a pair of high-waisted denim shorts along with your designated red ringer tee with the word ‘staff’ plastered on the back of it. slipping on some tube socks and an old pair of scuffed yellow canvas sneakers, throwing you hair quickly into a ponytail—too lazy to actually bother to do anything cute at this time in the morning.

by the time everyone had managed to get dressed and look somewhat presentable, the camp was already wide awake. the morning air still carried a lingering coolness, but it wouldn’t last long. you could feel the promise of heat waiting just beyond the treetops as sunlight filtered through the pines, painting patches of gold across the dirt paths. around you, counsellors and campers were already moving between cabins, some energetic despite the early hour, others looking as though they’d been dragged from bed against their will.

the walk to the dining hall wasn’t far, though it felt longer on tired legs. mary walked beside you, stifling another yawn behind her hand.

“if i disappear into the woods sometime today,” she informed the group, “just know it wasn’t personal. i’m simply not designed to function before at least nine.”

“yeah, we’ve gathered. you’ve mentioned that three times already,” eric snaps sassily with a roll of his eyes.

“‘cause nobody’s taking it seriously.”

“well you’ve got up.”

“uh-huh, barely.”

michael, walking a few steps ahead, shook his head with a tiny grin. “i think you’ll survive, mary.”

mary pointed at him dramatically. “easy for you to say.”

“what does that mean?”

“you woke up normal, looked prepared the start the day at six.”

eric nodded in agreement. “yeah, that’s true.”

“i looked exactly the same as everybody else?”

“no,” mary pressed firmly. “you looked pretty awake.”

the dining hall soon came into view before michael could defend himself—it was larger than you’d realized the day before, a long wooden building with wide windows and a porch that wrapped around one side. the sounds hit first, dozens of conversations overlapping, chairs scraping against the floor, laughter bouncing off wooden walls.

inside was even more chaotic—children crowded around tables, balancing trays piled high with food. counsellors navigated the sea of bodies with the concentration of people attempting to survive a natural disaster.

the smell of pancakes, eggs, toast and coffee hung heavily in the air.

“now this,” eric began as he grabbed a tray, “makes waking up worth it.”

you followed the line, accepting a plate of scrambled eggs and toast before moving toward an empty table near one of the windows. sunlight poured through the glass, illuminating floating specks of dust and casting bright patches across the table.

for a while, conversation stayed light, mostly consisting of guesses about what the day would involve.

“i heard we’re doing canoeing or something later this week,” eric speaks, muffled between bites.

“that’s assuming none of the kids sink us first,” mary jested.

“i can swim.”

“okay, but can they?”

“i feel like that’s an important detail somebody should’ve checked before hiring us.”

you found yourself smiling into your coffee at the flow of conversations of your group. the nervousness from yesterday hadn’t vanished entirely, but it was beginning to loosen its grip. there was something oddly comforting about sitting around a breakfast table with people who were just as unsure as you were.

even michael seemed more relaxed this morning—not necessarily talkative, but more present than the day before, listening and occasionally contributing.

at one point, mary launched into a story about accidentally getting locked inside her school’s gym equipment shed by the janitor when she was thirteen, prompting eric to nearly choke on his milk and michael to snicker quietly into his orange juice.

it happened so quickly you almost missed it—a brief sound that quickly was gone again a second later. still, it felt strangely rewarding, like catching sight of a rare animal in the wild.

before long, an announcement echoed through the dining hall, reminding staff to report to the counsellors’ meeting cabin.

the room immediately erupted into movement—chairs scraped back, trays were collected, children groaned at the prospect of organized activities so early in the morning.

“here we go,” mary groans as everyone stood.

you weren’t entirely sure whether you were excited or terrified—perhaps both.

the staff cabin sat near the center of camp, tucked between the dining hall and the lake. by the time your group arrived, it was already packed with counselors. some leaned against walls chatting casually while others sat at tables flipping through schedules.

a large chalkboard stood at the front of the room—assignments written across it in neat white lettering.

the camp director, a woman named mrs. johnston, waited until most people had settled before clapping her hands together which caused the room gradually quieted.

“good morning, everyone.”

a few sleepy greetings answered back.

“i’ll make this quick. since today is our first full day, we’re keeping things simple. the campers will remain in age groups, and your focus is getting them comfortable, learning names, and making sure nobody runs away into the forest,” she half jokes before making her way to a table with multiple clip boards and sheets of paper stacked on top of it.

several names were then called as assignments were handed out, groups shuffling around the room.

then—

“michael jackson, y/n l/n…” mrs. johnston gazes down at her notes, scanning down the page.

“group three.”

a clipboard was handed over towards the both of you, michael reaching for it first before glancing down at the information sheet.

you leaned slightly closer. “…eleven year olds.”

a nearby counselor visually winced—that didn’t seem promising.

“what’s wrong with eleven year olds?” you asked in confusion of the gesture.

michael stared at the paper for a moment before answering. “they’ve just discovered sarcasm.”

“oh.”

“and they think they’re funnier than they are.”

“yikes… this’ll be a ride.”

“much so.”

mrs. johnston continued speaking. “your first activity will be icebreakers down by the recreation field. name games, team activities, introductions—the usual.”

a collective groan rolled through the room from the unamused counsellors. you weren’t sure whether that made you feel better or worse.

a few minutes later, you and michael found yourselves heading toward the field with a stack of activity sheets and a growing sense of uncertainty.

the recreation field stretched out beneath the morning sun, bordered by pine trees and patches of wild grass. campers were already gathering in small groups, talking loudly, chasing each other across the grass, or pretending not to know anybody.

several eleven year olds sat waiting on a nearby bench that was actually a random log they discovered on the ground a shifted over.

the moment they spotted the two of you approaching, one boy immediately pointed. “i think they’re our counsellors.”

another looked michael up and down. “he looks mean.”

michael blinked in confusion. “i haven’t even said anything—“

the boy shrugged. “exactly.”

you bit the inside of your cheek to stop yourself laughing, and beside you, michael let out a long sigh, rubbing his eyes in anticipation for the carnage about to inevitably occur.

it was only eight-thirty in the morning and somehow, you had a feeling it was going to be a very long day.

“soo, what are your names?” a little girls asks, gazing up at you both with a small smile, her front tooth missing which really reminded you how young these kids really are.

“well, i’m y/n,” you smile back. “and this is michael,” you gesture over to him—him smiling down at the kid as well.

the little girl nods in return before running to a group of kids and giggling.

michael looks down at the clipboard, scanning the expected activities for the day. “human knot?… what is that? it sounds like a safety hazard.”

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ —

it wasn’t long before the group of children were stood in front of you both, hands and arms tangled awkwardly with each others.

“mason, you’re going to dislocate my shoulder if you keep tugging me!”

“then maybe you should comply!”

“i feel a lot like a pretzel right now.”

“ava, go under my arm! no, not that arm— the other arm.”

as the children awkwardly shuffled in the circle, reaching across each other to grab random hands, your attention drifted toward a little girl near the edge of the group.

unlike the others, who were already laughing and pulling each other around, she stood unusually still—her ginger ponytail had begun slipping loose from whatever rushed hairstyle she gave herself that morning. she held onto the hands she’d been assigned with obvious uncertainty, shoulders drawn tightly toward her ears.

every few seconds her eyes darted around the circle as if she was trying to figure out what everyone else understood that she didn’t.

you watched her chew nervously on her bottom lip, abruptly, you stepped away from michael’s and wandered over to her.

“hey,” you whisper softly, just for her to hear—crouching down slightly on your knees to meet her level to not strain her.

the girl, startled slightly, looked down at you—her eyes clearly full of worry.

“you okay?”

she glanced down at the tangled mess of arms. “i don’t get it,” she murmurs timidly.

you followed her gaze before admitting, “honestly, neither do i.” which earned the tiniest smile. “i think we’re all just kind of making it up as we go.”

the little girl let out a nervous laugh. “what if i mess it up?”

“then you’ll fit right in,” you gestured toward a nearby boy who was currently attempting to crawl beneath three different arms at once.

“i think we’ve already got at least four people messing it up.”

the girl giggled shyly as she looked at the kids who, very obviously, had no clue what they were doing either. around you, the knot continued descending into complete chaos.

“it’s supposed to be fun,” you said softly. “no one’s grading you. and if the whole thing falls apart, we just try again.”

her shoulders seemed to loosen slightly at the comforting reassurance you delivered.

“yeah?”

“yeah.”

she nodded, squeezing the hands she was holding a little more confidently this time. when you stood back up and returned toward the others, you noticed she wasn’t looking around nervously anymore—she was smiling, eager to play with the other kids.

later, you and michael try to stifle your laughs at the chaotic scene unfolding infront of you both. abruptly, one little boy accidentally turns around to far and yanks the kid beside, causing the circle to collapse—kids falling on top of each other with contagious laughter and screams. everyone tumbled into each other with startled yelps and uncontrollable laughter as the circle collapsed into a heap on the grass.

michael immediately rushes over, chuckling loudly at the cluster of children folded on the grass below, making sure everyone’s alright—you following closely behind, picking the kids up one by one.

you were already moving forward to help untangle limbs when a small figure suddenly appeared beside michael.

a little boy named noah limped dramatically across the field, one hand clutching his knee, tears burning in his eyes, slowly dripping down his cheeks as he winced in pain.

“m-michael,” he murmured, voice wobbling slightly.

michael immediately crouched down, eyebrows furrowed as he looks over at the little boy side him. “hey kid, what’s wrong?”

the boy stuck out his leg, revealing a small scrape, pink around the edges and dusted with a bit of dirt from the field that sat just below his kneecap, barely bigger than a coin. it looked like the kind of injury most kids collected without even noticing during an afternoon of running around outside, a shallow mark that would probably be forgotten by tomorrow.

it wasn’t serious, but judging by noah’s expression, you’d think he’d survived a vicious attack of some sort.

michael studied the injury with exaggerated seriousness. “oh, man.” he hissed through his teeth sharply.

noah’s eyes widened in panic. “wh— what?”

michael leaned closer, playfully insepectimg with squinted eyes whilst nibbling on his lower lip in ‘deep thought.’

“i dunno… i think we need to chop your leg off,” michael concluded, glancing up at the boy to be met with a horrified expression.

“i’m— i’m kidding,” he quickly explained, his eyes slightly widened at the genuine horror on noah’s face.

“but i do think we’re gonna need at least…” he paused dramatically. “two superman bandages.”

noah blinked. “two?…”

“maybe three.”

“three?”

“yeah, that’s how serious this is.”

the little boy stared at him for a moment before letting out a laugh, earning a playfully smile from michael.

“hm, can you still walk?”

noah tested, walking in a small circle around michael before stopping again infront of him.

“yeah.”

“can you still run?”

a few experimental jogging steps followed.

“…yeah.”

“good.”

michael stood, lightly ruffling the boy’s hair.

“then i think you’ll survive.”

the campers around them laughed, and by the time noah ran off to rejoin the others, several of the children were already crowding around michael with entirely unrelated questions.

you caught the way their attention naturally drifted toward him now—somewhere between helping a crying kid and diagnosing a life-threatening scraped knee, he’d apparently won them over.

“i’m not kidding, mike. i think i’ve dislocated something,” a little boy named oscar complains, holding his shoulder dramatically.

“no you haven’t,” michael assured, hands in his hips.

“and how do you know, little boy,” oscar squints up at him, crossing his arms in an attemptto appear intimidating.

“first of all, you’re the little boy here, kiddo. secondly, if it was, you’d be crying.”

“well, maybe i’m just brave.”

michael rolls his eyes before walking away, oscar sticking his tongue out to michael’s back.

you burst out laughing at the childish action of the boy, along with the fact michael was getting riled up from an eleven year old. almost immediately, you slap your hand onto your mouth which caused michael to look behind him in confusion—his upper lip curled slightly.

oscar gazes up at you, wriggling his eyebrows in a flirtatious manner. “find me funny, beautiful?” he winks.

you gasp in shock at the flirty remark, not sure if you should laugh or cry.

soon enough it was michael’s turn to laugh, hunched over slightly, hands on his knees at the kids confidence as well as the shock evidently portrayed on your face.

“i don’t think she’s interested, my guy,” another little boy, possibly oscar’s friend, chatted as he patted him supportively on the back. “she’d want someone like michael over here,” he gestures of with his head, nodding towards him.

suddenly, michael didn’t find it so funny no more—the smile from his face awkwardly faltering before fading completely.

“oh boy,” michael muttered, rubbing a hand over his face.

oscar immediately pointed towards him. “see?”

“see what?” you asked, eyebrows knitted.

“you didn’t deny it.”

michael looked genuinely offended. “deny what?”

“that she wants you.”

the entire group of kids erupted into laughter—your stomach dropping as you feel your face burning as several heads turned towards you, trying to think of something to redeem yourself with.

“okay,” michael snapped, clapping his hands together once. “this is not an icebreaker.”

“no, wait,” another kid interrupted, sitting upright in the grass. “let’s vote.”

“no.”

“no, we are not voting on anything,” you agree.

ignoring both of your calls, a small voice begin to speak. “everyone who thinks y/n should date oscar, raise your hand.”

oscar’s arm shot into the air—two of his friends following.

“traitors,” somebody muttered under their breath.

“now, everyone who thinks she should date michael.”

this time nearly the entire group raised their hands, the field exploding with shouting.

michael stared at them in disbelief. “yous don’t even know us?! we— we barely know each other!”

the high-pitched shouting only grew louder—someone attempting to create teams, another child starting to act as a commentator.

you could feel a headache forming at the overwhelmed racket the kids evolved into. “alright!” you called out, trying and failing not to laugh. “new camp rule.”

the children gradually quieted.

“we are never discussing the counsellors’ love lives again.”

a girl near the front frowned. “but what if something happens?”

“nothing’s happenin’.”

“what if something does?”

“it won’t.”

the girl nodded thoughtfully then pointed toward michael. “what if he asks you out?” she adds innocently.

michael nearly choked on nothing—you feeling your face heat instantly.

and the worst part, the kids noticed.

the second they did, they descended like sharks smelling blood in the water.

“OOOOOOOH!”

“oh my god, she blushed!”

“she did!”

“totally did!”

“i didn’t!” you protested, awkwardly laughing and you stare down at the small swarm.

a girl suddenly pointed across the circle. “look, michael’s blushing too!”

every small head whipped toward him—michael freezing like a deer in headlights under their intense gaze.

“am not.”

“are too.”

“mm-mm,” michael shakes his head, a few stray curls swaying in the wind.

“your ears are red.”

michael immediately slapped a hand over one ear which caused an eruptions from the campers.

“HE CHECKED!”

“haha, he checked!”

“that’s guilty behavior!”

“it’s not guilty behavior,” michael argued, staring blankly—visibly fed up with the children now.

“it is!”

“it— it’s hot outside…”

one boy looked around at the shaded field. “we’re stood under a tree.”

the cheering somehow grew louder—the kids clearly finding this extremely amusing.

michael glanced at you with the exhausted expression of a man questioning every decision that had led him here.

you, unfortunately, were laughing too hard to help.

“okay, okay! we’re movin’ on.”

nobody listened, continue to press you.

“you like her!”

“i do not, we just met yesterday!”

“you totally do—“

“guys,” michael sternly interrupted.

for the first time all morning, his voice carried enough authority to cut through the chaos—causing the group to quieten.

michael folded his arms.

“we’ve spent ten minutes discussing people dating.”

nobody spoke.

“do any of you actually want to finish today’s activities?”

there was a brief pause which followed his question until oscar proudly raised his hand. “can i still marry her when i’m older?”

the collective groan that escaped both you and michael at the exact same time was enough to send the entire group into another fit of laughter.

i hope we liked this i’ll try post part 2 soon ive just got exams coming out of my ass rn

tags : @wondergotham @kietourhrt @xxxercess @ceeriusly-dumb @melynex @sscrumertt @lov3lylxvender @darkgreengrl @frangiipanii @starliqhtsworld @izluvsyou @cloverjeanmj @uknownn111 @invinor @art-faux @softchaosdiary04 @sulkygyu @meowwrites @itsmonetnicole @yourlocaltenderoni @bonni-98

darlingmichael

IM BLUSHINGGGGG JNSJNSKSKWKDK

this is so cute i actually can’t function ITS SO PERFECT I LOVE ITTTTJSJDNEKNDKD

and 70S SUMMER??

CAN IT GET ANY BETTERRRR???

thank you for this cute fic i’m in love it’s so SO PRECIOUSSSD

#michael jackson #xffthewall #fanfic #michael jackson imagine #michael jackson x reader #michael jackson 70s #⊹ 📃 read by nat 𓈒ᐟ ݁

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