I've gone back and forth on whether or not to speak on this. Generally, I’m only here to get my fix on all things Michael—the pictures, the videos, the stories, and the art. Lately, though, it’s been impossible to ignore the drama filling the tags and my timeline. Between Black writers experiencing racism and people constantly criticizing creative content, it feels like we are losing the plot.
Speaking as one of the older fans in this community, it's disheartening. If we call ourselves Moonwalkers, our interactions should reflect the values Michael stood for. He was a peaceful person who deeply loved humanity, the world, and his fans. I won't dive too deeply into the racism discourse today, other than to state a simple fact: whether people want to acknowledge it or not, Michael was a Black American. He endured segregation and the intense racism that followed him even as he became the greatest entertainer who ever lived. Seeing prejudice within his own fandom is completely out of touch with his legacy.
What I primarily want to address, though, is the ongoing discourse among fanfic writers regarding what "should" and "shouldn't" be filling the tags. The reality of this fandom is that it accommodates every genre—smut, angst, and fluff alike.
As an avid reader, I adore reading everything. I consume fluff, smut, and angst without hesitation—if a story sticks out to me, I'm going to read it. I genuinely believe everyone on this platform is talented in their own unique shape, way, or form. As a writer myself, I’ve written in all of these categories, so I see the value in every single one of them.
My stance—and this is just my opinion—is that none of this needs to be a battleground.
If you don't enjoy smut, you have every right to skip it, but criticizing people for writing or reading adult themes is unnecessary. By the same token, fluff writers shouldn't be criticized for creating soft, sweet scenarios; sometimes people just need a comforting escape. And angst writers shouldn't be criticized for diving into heavier emotional tones—writing through pain, heartbreak, and struggle is often how people process complex feelings or highlight Michael's resilience. Most importantly, no one's writing should be ignored or cast aside simply because it doesn't fit someone else's personal preference. Every author puts time and heart into their work, and that effort deserves respect.
Social media gives us all the tools to curate our own reading experience. If a trope or genre isn't your thing, you can simply scroll past, filter the tags, and engage with the stories that bring you joy without making others feel invisible.
Michael Jackson was many things: incredibly gorgeous, deeply kind, and a dedicated humanitarian. But above all, he was a human being—complex, multifaceted, and real. Fiction reflects that full spectrum.
Furthermore, we have to remember the operative word here is fanfiction. Expecting 100% biographical or historical accuracy from writers who are doing this for free, purely out of passion, is an unfair expectation. Yes, we know the reality of his financial situation and debt later in life, despite his massive assets. But criticizing a writer for creating a fantasy where he buys a reader lavish gifts completely misses the point of creative writing.
What I'm getting at is that maybe we need to take a collective step back and remember why we're all here. We are a community built on a shared love for Michael and his art. Let's bring back the "don't like, don't read" mentality, appreciate and uplift the talent in our community across every genre instead of criticizing or ignoring it, and get back to enjoying the man who brought us all together in the first place.
after spending the day together in Miami, Michael has a question for you. The day is everything you'd hoped it be, except, it ends on a note that leaves you feeling lost and confused...
content warnings: mild smvt, mentions of Joe Jackson. some mentions of v!olence.
Chapter Eight
Early October, 1983
I wake to a knock on the door. I hum, confused, not really sure where I am for a good couple of seconds. I keep my eyes closed, hoping whoever it is will go away, but then I hear movement, soft pads towards the door, that clicks open somewhere in the other room.
“You can just put it on the table,” A low, but still soft male voice murmurs, though I do recongise it.
“Of course sir,” A male voice replies at normal volume. Plates clink as more footsteps sound.
“Try to be quiet, my girl’s still sleeping.”
“Apologies sir,” the staff member whispers. I stay very still, trying to hide my smile, stomach rioting with butterflies as the scent of coffee and something else sweet starts to waft towards me. He ordered breakfast.
Just before the door closes I peak my eyes open. Michael looks rediculous. Fake beard, shades on, just a t-shirt and and those baggy jeans. Which actually suit him pretty nicely. He pulls the fake beard off the moment the door shuts and then turns, doing a double take once he seems me looking at him.
“Oh, good morning,” he smiles, pllucking off his shades. He looks well rested, eyes bright. “I wasn’t sure what you liked so I got a little of everything.”
I sit up, looking at the buffet on the coffee table in the living room area where the long couches face the big windows letting all the sunlight in. Beyond, I can see the ocean. All bright blue and glittering.
“This is so sweet Mikey, thank you,” I coo, getting up and out of bed. He watches me, gaze flicking up and down over my body greedily as I pad close to him. I help myself to some coffee and hum, delighted, then plop down on the couch. He sits beside me, cup of tea in hand.
“What do you want to do today?” he asks.
“You don’t have a show?”
“Tomorrow,” he replies, “Today, I’m yours.”
Oh, at those words my stomach flips. My cheeks flush and I feel all tingly all over. ‘My girl.’ ‘Today, I’m yours.’ These are fighting words, but my body gives in without so much as a harsh word, turning to mush under his intense but soft gaze.
“Surprise me,” I say, sipping my coffee. “I’ve never been to Miami before.”
Michael takes the bait, nodding. “Okay, I’ll surprise you,” he smiles, a little twinkle in his eye.
We eat breakfast, devouring the fresh fruit and pancakes, then I head for a shower. I wash my hair using the hotel toiletries that smells like lemons and honey, then hop out, moisturising from head to toe, doing my make up, and then smoothing my curls into ringlets with a little leave in conditioner.
I keep my make up light since i’ll proably sweat it off in this heat anyway. I step out the bathroom, and send a smile Michael’s way as he sits by the desk, hotel phone pressed to his ear. “The whole thing. Yes, I’m serious.” he says softly. He pauses as he listens to someone else speak.“I don’t want to see any— Yes, I do understand what I’m asking for.”
I drop my towel and pad over to my suticase, rummaging in it for something to wear.
It’s quiet for a couple seconds longer than I expect it to be, and glance up as I pull on my underwear. Michael is staring at me, pupils swelling. “I’m still here.” he says, blinking a few times as I giggle. “Pardon?”
I dress in a matching soft yellow panties and bra set then pull on my black capri pants and a pretty halter neck top, a little slither of my skin on show on my stomach.
“The whole thing,” Michael says again. “All of it… No, I don’t care about that.” He watches me as I pull on some open toe short heels and then start stuffing things into my shoulder bag. Sun cream, lip gloss, my purse, some perfume—
“So you’ll do it? Amazing… Thank you so much, sir. I appreciate it.”
Once he hangs up, he claps his hands and stands, bright grin on his face. We head out the hotel, and Michael manages to sneak away unnoticed.
As it turns out, he’d gotten his security guard, Bill, a room in the same hotel, so that when he’s here with me, he didn’t have to wait for his car.
We travel to where he’s staying with his family so that Mike can wash up and change. It’s a giant mansion owned by, I think, a family friend right on the water front. It’s beauiful and extremely private, lavish, just… massive. Like a resort all on it’s own.
I hang out by the car, sunglasses on, hoping to not be noticed.
“You know, his family are real nice people,” Bill says, glancing at me. He leans against the drivers side door, newspaper open, peering at me over his brown tinted shades. “You can go inside, they won’t mind. The other boys bring girls everywhere.”
“It’s okay,” I say softly, “I can wait out here.”
He just nods, deciding not to push the topic further. Though I see it in his eyes, the quiet… I don’t know, maybe, pity, that i’m too shy to go in.
But that’s not the real reason.
I could go in if I wanted to, Michael did invite me, but I’m reluctant. After what his mother said, I feel strange. I’m not ashamed of who I am or how I dress, but knowing that her first impression of me wasn’t a good one just makes me feel tense.
If we end up officially dating, that’s always going to stick in my mind. That she saw me as a whore-ish fan attempting to lead her son into sin, and not that I really like him, and he likes me. And our friendship and relationship had a much more innocent start than me handing him a note with my hotel and phone number on it.
Michael returns, wearing blue jeans and a button up white shirt. Cap on, big shades.He looks so cute and neat that I can’t help but just grin at him stupidly, “hello handsome,” I coo, reaching up to touch his cheek as he nears, then smooth some curls away from his brows but they stubbornly bounce back.
“Hi,” he smiles, closing in, hands finding my waist, and giving me a comforting squeeze. “You ready to go?”
I nod, sending a nervous look towards the house in case someone decides to follow him out. But when no one comes, and we get into the car, I relax a little.
He takes me to the aquarium though a back entrance. It’s so odd, wandering through halls that only the staff are meant to see. When we do come across the occasional worker, they lock up upon seeing Michael, immediately recognising him without his shades on. He just smiles, but we keep it moving.
I wonder what it will be like as we walk, hand in hand through the back halls, to be amongst everyone else if people can spot him in less than two seconds, but once we’re out in the main area, where all the sea life animals and big mammals are… there’s no one around.
Directly ahead of us sits a massive blue tank, full of idly swimming schools of fish, both big and small. “Wow,” I breathe as we walk over to it. They have ambient music playing, addding a sense of peace to the atmosphere.
We watch the fish, slowly wander around the big tank. I keep my hand linked with his, palm warm against mine. He points out some of the fish he likes the best, speaking in soft tones that send little tingles down my spine every time he leans in close speak as he points to one.
My stomach starts acting funnier than usual as he walks half a step head of me, leading the way. I feel all light inside, and even though the fish are glorious and strange, I can’t stop looking at Michael every few minutes, peaking at his profile, or glancing down at where our hands stay linked.
We head outside into the bright sunshine, hitting a wall of humidity and heat. That’s what I really notice that there is no one around. No one to watch the aquatic shows, or gathering around where the sea lions are, or to look at the ocras. It’s just us, and it starts feeling a little strange, like we are the only two people in the world.
We stop to grab a snack at one of the concession stands. “Where is everyone?” I ask, just as I notice a couple of the staff members a little ways away taking some pictures of Michael with their digital cameras. When they see me looking, they disappear pretty fast.
“I rented it out for some hours,” Michael informs me casually as he hands over cash for our snacks and drinks. I whip my head around to stare at him as he adds, “just so we can walk around peacefully.”
I’m about to scold him, but then I remember who he is to the rest of the world, not just me. I could never relate to what he goes through attempting to do ordinary things like go to the movies, or the aquarium for the day. Just thinking about it makes me a little sad. Being able to do the simple things is a huge part of everyday life.
I lean in and kiss his cheek softly. “That’s very considerate of you, baby, thank you.”
“No problem,” he smiles, looking bashful.
“I’m really enjoying myself,” I add as we take our food and go and sit down, happy to just watch the sea lions lounge around in the sun as we eat.
“Mia,” Michael says after a couple minutes of peaceful quiet, “There’s something I want to talk to you about,” he continues, tone cautious. I look to him, putting my sandwich down and give him my full attention.
“Okay.”
He nods, then swallows, nerves glinting in his sweet eyes. I don’t know what to expect, so I try to hold off my own nervous butterflies. “Ah,” he then smiles, chuckling shyly, “actually, don’t look at me, you’re makin’ me nervous.”
“Oh, sorry,” I giggle, and glance away from him.
“Okay,” he breathes, “we’ve been seeing each other for a good amount of time now, and, uh… I wanted…” he pauses again, clears his throat. “I wanted to ask you if you wanted to be my girl, uh…properly. I mean, exclusively.”
I grin, giggling softly. “I’d love to,” I say, finally looking at him. He’s all pink cheeked and smiling.
“Good, because I don’t want you thinkin’ that i’m just using you for you body,” he rushes out, “beacuse i’m not.” he quickly adds as my brows raise teasingly, “I really like you, and I care ‘bout you a lot.”
“You’re so adorable,” I smile, blushing, “I really like you too.”
“Good. I’m glad.” He grins, bowing his head as he fixes his gaze on his own lunch. I continue to watch him, feeling so… goodness, genuinely elated, that i’m not really sure what to do with myself.
Michael, my boyfriend, has a wonderful ring to it.
We continue to walk around the aquarium together, exploring all the tanks, reading all the information on various different spiecies. We don’t let go of each other once, whether Michael has his arm around my shoulders or waist, or we have our hands linked.
When we’ve exhausted checking everything out, we go back to the house where he’s staying with family, despite my subtle reluctance, and he walks me confidently through the extravagent mansion to the back where the gardens open up to the sea. I realise as we head down to a private dock that he wants to take one of the boats out, and I immediately relax.
This I can do, but having an almost instantanous sit down meal or hang out with his brothers and parents, only hours after we agreed to be exclusive, feels a little much for me.
“Just wait here i’ll be back with some stuff,” Michael says excitedly, and I wait by the docks, watching all the speed boats and big ships glide by. Sunsets close, and I just smile to myself, feeling all sparkly eyed. When Mike returns, he has some blankets, a bottle of wine, and some more snacks in a basket he swiped from somewhere.
I can’t stop smiling as he helps me onto one of the speed boats and we ease away from the private dock and set out onto the ocean. “It’s great out here, no one can see or reach us,” he shouts over the wind as he drives us out to watch the sunset away from the shore. I grin, holding my hair out of my face as the breeze whips it around.
We drop anchor some distance out where the waves have softened, and turn towards the sun as it sets, casting a golden glow over Miami. Michael opens the wine, pours two glasses, and we relax, watching the city and the sun peacefully, blanket over our legs.
“I’m really happy,” Michael sighs, arm around my shoulders as i lean into his side, watching the view.
“Me too,” I agree, glancing up at him.
“I wanted to ask you that like a week after we met,” he says, chuckling. His indiana accent pops out a bit which just makes me grin. “You’re just so pretty, ma.”
I laugh and sit up, leaning in to k!ss him softly. “stop sweet talking me, or i’m gonna misbehave,” i tease him softly.
“And do what?” he asks gently after licking his l!ps, voice hushing. I gaze at him, glancing from his eyes to his mouth, and silently accept his challenge. I’m a little buzzed off the wine, and the moment the thought hits me, heat follows, pooling at my centre right after it courses through my veins.
I shift, and put my wine glass down. As I do, I scan the area. The light’s lowering, and there are some boats around but they’re all driving by at a distance, taking no notice of us. I ease off the bench we’ve been lounging on and move so I’m standing in front of Michael.
He looks eager, little smile playing on his l!ps as his eyes track me. When I lower myself to my knees and ease his th!ghs apart, his smile falters. Need slams into his gaze, and he gulps as I reach for his jeans button, pop it, then ease the z!pper down.
“baby, you don’t have to do… do that.” He murmurs, already growing st!ff before I can even open his jeans properly.
“I want to,” I purr, “trust me.”
I lick my l!ps, feeling all flushed as I ease him out of his br!efs and start rvbbing him, hand moving up and down to make sure he’s ready, even though, visually, I can see that he already is. I gaze at his member, m0uth sal!vating. He’s so pretty, I can’t wait to taste h!m, and feel that warm velvet between sl!p between my l!ps.
Michael shudders, upper eyelids dropping, breaths shallowing as des!re takes over him a little bit.
I k!ss his t!p and taste the subtle saltiness. I hum, glancing up at him, k!ssing him again before my t0ngue grazes the underside of h!s leng±h. Michael hums, smoothing some of my curls awy from my face, bottom lip disappearing under his teeth. He’s watching me intently, gaze compltely focussed.
When I ease him into my m0uth, his eyelashes flutter. “Oh,” he sighs, brows furrowing as I svck on him, bobb!ng my head vp and down, massaging h!m with my t0ngue.
His eyes almost roll back as his hand settles on the back of my head, gently encouraging me. “Feels so good, mama,” he murmurs, voice th!ck with des!re. A rush of mo!sture surges to my centre, and it pvlses with need as I pleasvre Michael with my l!ps. I hum, enjoying pleas!ng him, eyes focussed on his face as it contorts with need.
He’s so warm in my movth, so th!ck, stuff!ng me full. I’m genuinely enjoying this, hands pressed into his th!ghs as my head bovnces in his lap. He’s leaning back, h!ps shifting, fully relaxing into it. God, it makes me so hot, seeing him losing himself in it.
I want to praise him, but my mouth is full.
I increase my pace, svcking him a little harder, a little faster. He wh!nes, and his hand tightens in my hair, but not too hard. “I’m close,” he wh!mpers so softly that my own eyes almost roll back. I focus on his t!p, massaging him with my l!ps on that specific spot, “Baby,” he m0ans, h!ps lifting, pressing himself further into my thr0at.
I hold him there, and he gasps. “I’m so close—“ his voice cracks, and hot warmth f!lls my movth. I gulp, swal|owing it all down. I ease him out, then lick my l!ps. “Did you…?” he asks, chest still heaving.
“every last drop,” I chirrup, feeling pleased with myself. Michael’s flushed, but his eyes are a little glazed and he’s looking pretty relaxed. I tuck him away, do up his jeans. He watches my every move like a hawk.
“I think i’m in love with you.”
I giggle, “It was just a bl0w j0b, baby,” I smirk as I perch next to him again on the bench seat. The light’s leaving the sky pretty quickly, all the lights from all the private docks flickering to life some couple of miles away. “You never had one before?”
“No, you know that,” he murmurs, big eyes fixed on me.
“Wait, what do you mean, you think?” I then grin at him, teasing him even more. He’s just so cute I could die. “Surely you should know.”
“I haven’t felt like this before.”
“Oh, but you think you have?”
“I’ve had one other girlfriend, I liked her a lot.” he replies very plainly, expression neautral, eyes direct. “But I was a lot younger, and it wasn’t that serious. It wasn’t the same as this.”
“She was the one who taught you to k!ss,” I say, and he just nods. Giggling, I reach for my wine and take a sip. “how scandalous, you little sinner.”
“I’m being serious with you, Mia.”
I meet his gaze, blinking a few times. He hasn’t blinked at all, which tells me he is being quite serious. I don’t know what to say for a long second. “You think you’re falling in love with me?”
“Yes.”
We’re both quiet, just staring at each other. I’m half aware of the fact it’s getting dark pretty fast, and also that Michael is very much in need of an answer, or at the very least, acknowledgement of his feelings. Which makes me consider mine.
“I…” I begin to say, “I think i’m falling in love with you too, but i’m not ready to say those words yet, Mikey.”
He smiles anyway, “that’s fine,” he says softly, so sweetly, “I just wanted you to know where i’m at.”
“Thank you for sharing that with me, cutie.” I lean over and kiss his cheek.
He huffs, looking bashful all of a sudden as he stands, moves over to the drivers seat and flicks the button to lift the anchor, turns the engine on. “You’re gonna make a great therapist one day, you know that right?” he smirks, looking at me over his shoulder.
“I do,” I reply and lean back, sipping my wine. He just grins, and once the anchor is up, he takes us back to the private mooring spot. As we near, I see a figure on the dock, waiting for us. Michael immedaitely tenses, and almost instantaneously I lock up too. “Who is that?” i ask.
“My father.” he mutters, slowing the engine. We glide up to the dock, and I see his father waiting, dimly lit by the white lights illuminating the decking.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Joe demands, gruff voice making my nervous sytem flare to life. Michael doesn’t respond immediately, and gets to tying the boat to the post after killing the engine. “you don’t hear me talking to you?”
“I have company.” He mutters.
I sense the father’s eyes on me, and I clear my throat, standing up. “Good evening sir,” I say softly just before Michael helps me out the boat. “We were just—“ I begin to explain, but Michael shoots me a look and I shut my mouth. Don’t get involved his sharp gaze says.
“I should take Mia home,” he then says, taking my hand. He goes to walk past Joe, but his father grabs his arm, and yanks him in close to face him.
“You know you have shows to rehearse for. Your brothers all showed up today like they were told to do.” His father speaks lowly, face close to Michael’s, but i can hear every word. “Where the hell were you?”
“I know the show,” Michael responds quietly, “I don’t need to rehearse.”
“you think you better than your brothers?”
Before he can even respond his father slaps him up the back of his head. I gasp sharply. Michael’s frozen, staring at a spot on the decking, literally not moving a single muscle.
“you show up when I tell you to show up,” Joe sneers at him, face way too close to his sons, deliberately invading his personal space to intimidate him,“and this is the last time you get to go out and see whatever this girls name is, if you don’t know how to act. Losing your damn mind over some pvssy.” His father shoves him, pushing for a reaction, but Michael has locked up, isn’t even blinking, lips pressed tightly shut.
Blood drains from my face at the same time that it heats. I’m furious, so angry I literally can’t speak.
“Put that girl in a cab and go speak to your mother. She’s been worried sick about your stupid ass. Staying out all night, all day…” the father mutters, still glaring at his son and not glancing at me once.
Michael moves as if on auto pilot, dragging me with him. I glance back at his father who is following us to make sure Michael does what he’s told.
It’s shocking to me, because my parents are completely the opposite. Soft spoken, kind. Gentle natured, completely. Never once laid a hand on me. The casualness that Michael’s father just did that shows that he’s so used to dominating his children, intimidating them. Getting off on the control. It makes me feel nauseous.
“Michael, are you okay?” I whisper to him, hurrying to keep up with his strides as he marches towards the main house, through the manicured gardens. He doesn’t respond. His jaw is tight, eyes fixed ahead. I don’t think he’s present anymore. I squeeze his hand, digging my nails in a little bit to prod his nervous system and he blinks rapidly, then glances down at me.
“What?”
“Are you okay?” I whisper.
“Fine. You just need to go home.” There is no soft light voiced Michael anymore. His tone is flat, and he sounds just like any other guy, even if his tone is still gentle. I don’t push it. I don’t want to get in the way, or cause a scene. Even if I can tell there is about to be one and I desperately want to drag him away from it.
His brother’s linger nearby as we walk through the house, into the foyer, then out into the courtyard sectioned off from the main road by a big gate. We pass them quickly, and there’s this look in their eyes that puts me on edge so fast I lose my breath.
“Mike—“
“I’ll call you,” he says, signalling to his security guy who nods, then goes to bring a car around.
“Michael—”
“I’ll be fine. Just go. Please.” he hisses, then turns away, heading back into the house where one of his brothers are waiting by the door, eyes a little big as they start talking to him quickly. The front door shuts, and I’m closed off. Unable to see what’s happening.
I feel sick all the way back to the hotel.
I wait for Michael’s call, but it doesn’t come. My flight day comes, and even though Michael’s driver shows up to take me to the airport, no word arrives with him.
On the otherside, my parents pick me up, wanting to talk about my trip but i’ve become monotone, worried sick about what may be happening behind the scenes.
It didn’t seem like that big of a deal. We went to the aquarium. We went out on the boat. We spent twenty four hours together. And yet his father acted like he’d run off for weeks, cancelled shows. Ruined the mini tour, damaged their livelihood.
It’s then that I realise I don’t have his number written down. So I venture back to that spot where we used to meet five days after I’d last seen him, niavely hoping he’d suddenly appear, walking Louie. Except, he doesn’t show.
The next thing I hear about him is when a picture of us at the aquarium shows up front page in the tabloids.
end notes:
oft. this one stung a little bit for me, but i just felt compelled to write it. pls let me know what you thought, and reblogs and comments are always appreciated <3
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