A BLACK GIRL RUNS THIS BLOG BITCH
DEAR READER

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blake kathryn
Cosmic Funnies
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"

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JVL

@theartofmadeline
Not today Justin
Stranger Things
Today's Document
Xuebing Du

oozey mess
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her

Love Begins
KIROKAZE
dirt enthusiast
RMH
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda

Product Placement

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@plan3tch1ld
A BLACK GIRL RUNS THIS BLOG BITCH
a/n: listen to Just Good Friends while reading :3 small lil blurb i thought of while listening to that song + i LOVE michael x pop!star
✎𓂃𝒾𝓂𝒶𝑔𝒾𝓃𝑒 — you and michael are secretly dating. secretly because well he's the king of pop and you're the queen of pop, the two most famous people in hollywood. dating secretly is the safest thing to do at the moment.
this doesn't mean paparazzi doesn't get suspicious.
you're back stage at an awards show, drunk off of celebratory drinks and high on good vibes. a reporter comes up with a bright light beaming on your dazed and satisfied expression.
"y/n, what's the deal between you and michael, everyone's been a little suspicious of the two of you" the reporter asks as the camera man pans to you.
you let out a loud laugh, too drunk to care
"uhh..we're just good friends" you say slightly slurred.
your best friend then unexpectedly appears behind you with an evil smile, showing out for the camera.
"yes...reeeaaaaalll good friends" she taunts.
your face drops thinking of the night michael played you just good friends.
the song he wrote with stevie in relation to you guys' strong "friendship" — as yall liked to call it. strictly business the two of you would joke after spending a wonderful evening together at neverland.
the media could barely contain themselves when that song came out.
"have a great night" you managed to say before scurrying off with your best friends arm in a tight hold. leaving the camera man and reporter confused.
as soon as you got home you called michael. waiting for the phone to ring you twisted the swirled cord around your finger. michael picks up on the second ring.
"hello, my lo-" michael starts.
"you'll never believe what happened" you quickly cut him off. overwhelmed with giggles and alcohol.
"something good—i hope" michael says so kindly
you explain the whole night in detail, by the time you're done you and him are in a fit of laughter. you're clutching your chest as you sigh trying to ease the giggles.
"well...let's just see how good the song works" michael jokes with a dorky laugh.
just two days later...you find yourself staring down at the newspaper headline:
Possible Pop Royalty? Y/N and Michael are real close!
thinking about bad!era mike n a sweet girlfriend who started off as his sisters best friend.
you were different, you didn’t fawn or start going ballistic when you saw him. You only gave a shy wave before going upstairs with janet.
thats what caught his attention.
his obsession with you came slowly, him trying to catch you while your alone, his hands ‘accidentally’ brushing your waist while moving past you, him needing to get something from janet only when your over.
of course you noticed, how couldn’t you? he was practically hovering over you like an eager puppy.
so you decided to confront him.
“Mike.” you say softly one night.
you, janet, and michael were watching a movie and janet excused herself to use the bathroom.
“yes?” he looks over at you, clearly a bit nervous about you calling his name upfront. you never did that, only at dinner to ask him to hand the mash potatoes..
you shift so your facing him, your bare legs curled underneath you. “I.. don’t know how to put this any other way but, do you like me? like.. in a crush way?”
he freezes and you swear you can see his cheeks redden with a small blush.
“I mean, how couldn’t i? you.. you’re beautiful. I just..” his sentence is cut off by a small giggle from you.
“Its okay.. i-i like you as well.” you shift a little closer. “you’re very charming, mike.”
he gives an awkward but flattered smile. “you think so?” you nod and he hesitates.
“then.. if i like you, and you like me.. should we, go out? only if you want—“ your lips are on his, soft and sweet, you tasted like caramel.
his hands fly up, freezing before they engulf your waist, his lips moving rhythmically against yours.
a throat clears. “i know like hell..”
authors note: i was listening to thriller, bad & you rock my world while writing this .. and its kinda ass but fuck it we ball.
my scholar ❦
Thriller era Micheal Jackson headcanons
Contents : Micheal jackson x Reader, Pure fluff
ThrillerEra!Micheal Jackson who would cover his hand and get shy if you kissed him in public.
ThrillerEra!Micheal Jackson who would suggest wearing matching outfits. Especially if you guys are going in public. basically making a statement to the world that hes claimed
ThrillerEra!Micheal Jackson who would bring you to his house to meet all of his pets. his heart would beat a bit faster when he saw you once talking to bubbles and almost having a full conversation with him.
ThrillerEra!Micheal Jackson who would drag you to his rehearsals just so you could watch him dance. everytime you come to the studio he tries extra hard to give a performance.
ThrillerEra!Micheal Jackson who would invite you to the studio so he could teach you singing and would be in the booth with you so you could be featured on a song.
𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗟𝗔𝗗𝗬 𝗜𝗡 𝗛𝗜𝗦 𝗟𝗜𝗙𝗘. ᥫ᭡ 𝗷𝗮𝗮𝗳𝗮𝗿 𝗷𝗮𝗰𝗸𝘀𝗼𝗻 × 𝗳!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿
𝗌𝗆𝖺𝗎 + 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗇 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍. · 𝗍𝗈𝗑𝗂𝖼 𝗎𝗇𝗂 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗉𝗅𝖾 · 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗂𝗌 𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝗌𝗍𝗎𝖻𝖻𝗈𝗋𝗇 · 𝗅𝗈𝗐𝗄𝖾𝗒 𝖱𝖾𝗀𝗂𝗇𝖺 𝖦𝖾𝗈𝗋𝗀𝖾 & 𝖱𝗈𝖽𝗋𝗂𝖼𝗄 ???? MASTERLIST. 𝙬𝙘 𝟰𝟬𝟭 💌
💭 Your phone had been buzzing for twenty minutes straight. You ignored every single one. Mostly out of principle now... The first three texts? Fine.
By text number eleven, Jaafar was doing too much.
pov: it will never be you — part 3
part 1 • part 2
sinopse: after the disaster at studio 54, you wake up in michael's bedroom.
note: omg im so excited for this one it's so cute!!!!! i hope y'all like it 💗💗
the trip to hayvenhurst is quiet. neither michael nor you talk; the only sound making the trip less awkward comes from the radio. you are lost in your thoughts. your brain is still dizzy, and your memories are fuzzy because of all the drinking.
however, you don't know why you kept quiet when michael told the driver to bring you to hayvenhurst instead of your place. you don't really want to know the reason you acted like that.
you don't look at him; you don't think you have the guts to do it right now. instead, you focus on his woody fragrance, which has always helped you relax. it isn't any different now. so you just close your eyes and try to clear your mind, letting the thought of having him close to you calm all the noises in your brain.
michael is not used to your silence, but he can still contemplate your face while you are asleep. you look so beautiful and soft. he uses all his self-control not to pull you closer to him, taking a deep breath as he watches the road through the car window.
he's worried about you. although your ankle seems alright, he doesn't think you are really alright. he still doesn't know why you are ignoring him or the reason for this sudden change in attitude towards him. he just knows one thing: how much it hurts not being able to understand you. he can't comprehend what he did wrong.
in your sleep, your face slips onto his shoulder. you're so comfortable against him that you draw yourself nearer and snuggle into him. michael drops a smile, realizing that even if you are not talking to him, you still quietly look for him. he couldn't avoid you, even if he wanted to.
his eyes soften as he sees you so relaxed and close to him. for an instant, there is nothing else in the world, just you and him. he hears you breathing, and that's enough to dissipate the adrenaline in his body. losing his composure, he gently presses a kiss to your forehead.
michael looks up, searching the rearview mirror, and sees bill's proud face smiling back at him. bill isn't oblivious to the story; he knows how much you like the boy—and how much michael likes you. it's just a matter of time before you both get together. michael gives an embarrassed smirk, like he was caught doing something wrong. but he doesn't care, because nothing about you could ever be wrong.
....
you feel a soreness in your throat. you open your eyes and don't even need a second to realize that you are in michael's bedroom. actually, you are lying in his bed. and he's right there. he doesn't notice when you open your eyes—and that's great. you need a minute, or maybe two, to think straight.
the memories come to your mind like flashes. you remember seeing him and diana; you remember being blinded by jealousy. it's all there in the back of your mind.
"are you awake?" his sweet voice comes out of nowhere. you were so lost in your thoughts that you didn't realize when he stepped closer to you.
"n-no—i mean, yes. i just woke up." your voice is a bit raspy; your throat is definitely sore. "i think i need some water."
before michael can tell you to stay lying in his bed, you abruptly plant your feet on the floor. the moment you put your left foot on the carpet, a sudden pain burns through your ankle. it hurts so much. you don't think you've broken it, but the pain is massive. you bite your lip to avoid letting out a whine of pain. still, your eyes start watering, and everything seems like too much; everything hurts too much.
the feeling of being there with him hurts. this whole situation is so... you don't even know what to think about it. you are jealous, but not only jealous. you're disappointed. he is—or was—your best friend; he used to tell you everything. then why didn't he tell you about diana? were you the last one to know?
you are tired.
you are tired of masking your own feelings.
and you are tired of ignoring him.
you don't know when you started crying, but you can feel your eyes welling up with tears as they stream down your cheeks.
michael doesn't know what to do. you are crying. he would rather die than see you cry. "no, baby, don't cry. is it hurting that much? let me take you to the bed." the words come out so fast that he's almost breathless.
you don't answer, but he gathers you in his arms like you're the most precious thing to ever exist, sitting you back on the bed. he calmly runs his hand over your ankle. "you don't need to worry, baby. it's not broken, you know." he gives you a soft smile.
but that doesn't help you stop crying. you just look at him, not knowing what to do. one part of you wants to be honest with him, but the other... she just wants to lie down and cry.
"don't cry. please don't cry, don't cry, don't cry, don't cry." his voice is soft, like he is talking to a baby. he needs you to stop crying. it's like a knife tearing through his flesh when he watches you suffer like that, and that disappointed look is the worst part of it. he doesn't know what to do, so he just begs you:
"princess, please, talk to me. what did i do wrong? mama, please, look at me. please talk to me. i need you to stop crying, alright? please, baby, tell me what happened. i just need to know where i went wrong so i can fix it."
now, his head is resting against your lap. he looks up at you with so much devotion that it confuses you. he stares at you, waiting for your answer. you can see his anxiety growing with every minute you stay silent. you run your hand through his pretty curly hair, taking in how handsome michael is. his doe eyes are melting your resolve; you don't think you can keep quiet anymore—not when he's looking at you this way.
you take a deep breath, and in a whispering voice, you reveal the catalyst behind all your tears:
"i—i saw. i saw you and her, michael. you and diana." michael takes a moment to react to what you just said. he slowly realizes what must have happened, replaying that moment at studio 54. he had never seen you be that rude to anyone, but now, the realization hits him.
you think he is with diana.
he doesn't know how you arrived at this conclusion, but as he looks at you, he can see how hurt you are. it kills him to know that he is the cause of it all. a bittersweet feeling takes over him; he's glad that he finally knows the truth. however, he will never forget how sad he made you over something that could have been avoided.
it's all his fault.
you cried because of him.
and he's not okay with that. the thought of hurting you had never crossed his mind, and knowing he is the reason for your pain is overwhelming, to say the least.
"michael—are you with her?" your hesitant voice pulls him from his thoughts. "no—god. i—i, princess, i like you," he says, looking deep into your eyes. "actually, i've liked you since we were just two silly kids."
you don't know what to say.
so, you don't say anything.
you just look at him, waiting for his next words. he takes in your silence, looking deeply into your eyes;
"i never had anything with diana," he says quickly. "i mean it. we never had sex, and i never kissed her." you aren't doubting his words, but jesus, you are still so afraid of getting your feelings hurt.
"but mikey..." you take a pause before continuing. "i don't get it. you know, i never thought about you and her. but i saw the way she looks at you, and how you look at her."
"the way i look at her?"
"yes."
"princess, don't you see the way i look at you?"
"i don't know, michael, you were never clear about it."
"i'm being clear now. i've liked you since we were kids. and now, every time i see you, my heart fills with something i can't even explain. it is love, but it's much more than that," he says as he interlocks his fingers with yours. "can you forgive me, mama?"
"i think i can." —oh, you already forgave him, but he doesn't need to know that. he starts to stand up, but before he can, you pull his hand. suddenly, he's on the bed, lying next to you, so, so close. you can feel his warm breath against your skin, and he seems just as affected by the sudden closeness as you are.
"so you like me that much, yeah?" you tease him, and he looks at you with sheer disbelief. "yes, ma'am, i do."
"i'm not so sure about that," you say jokingly. this causes him to pull you closer, holding you so tight that you can hear your heart beating in sync with his.
"remember when you were this little girl who would follow me everywhere—" mike starts, but you quickly interrupt him:
"you would follow me every—"
"let me finish, mama. but yes, i would also follow you everywhere. i liked being around you; you were so gentle with me. you would try to cheer me up when i was down by giving me ice cream. you were so cute." and suddenly, all these memories come flooding back to your mind, and you have never felt so loved. he still remembers the little details that didn't seem like much at the time, but right now? they mean everything to both of you.
"i love you," you say for the first time, and michael just looks at you, so much love radiating from his eyes. he can't help but squeeze you in his arms as he tells you how much he loves you too.
and for the first time, you feel completely at peace. you are exactly where you belong: in his arms.
taglist: @serathines @luvingkiku @thedoggonegirl @strawberrychita @avenueeee @ang9lic @softchaosdiary505 @dirtymartinisz @michaeljacksonsonlylady @nesiris21
pov: it will never be you, part 2
after seeing michael with diana, you don't know how to react. so, you just ignore him
part 1 - pov: it will never be you
note; guys thank you so much for all the love!!! this is my first time writing fanfics in english, so please, don't expect an advanced vocabulary. and it will have a part 3!!!
something was going on with you; that's what michael thought.
he had realized this after last friday at studio 54.
the music was loud, everyone was either dancing or snorting the white powder. you were on the dance floor, grooving to the beat of the music. your curvy hips were grinding against that stranger, which wasn't unusual for you—dancing with the guys or the girls—while you waited for michael's arrival.
but something weird happened: you didn't dance with him that night. you gave him a short smile, acknowledging his presence, but you kept your distance. every time he would turn to you, or put his hand on your back, you would quickly find another person to dance with.
then he stayed in the corner and observed you, beautiful as an angel, sparkling on the dance floor. you didn't give him a single glance.
michael couldn't sleep; he kept thinking that was so unusual for you.
i mean, he met you when you were this cute girl who was the only person at motown his age. he wouldn't be lying if he ever told you that you were his first crush.
so as you guys grew up, things got harder for him. he would be with the jacksons while trying to produce his first solo album.
and you were always there.
he would invite you to his studio. you would sit close to him while eating strawberry ice cream, listening to him talk about how excited he was; he would show you his various lyrics.
you were always the first one who supported him. and you would give him that look—the one that would make his heart beat a little faster.
he didn't know if you were aware of it. he thinks you don't realize the effect you have on him. and that's awful.
for you, he's probably just your old friend.
he would ask you to sing this part—because he actually just wanted to hear your sweet voice. he would ask your opinion about it before quincy's; that's how close you are—or were. he doesn't know anymore.
he is so scared of his growing feelings for you. a childhood crush is one thing, but this is so much more intense than it was supposed to be.
you know him, the real him.
he wasn't michael jackson to you; he was just a guy from indiana.
he doesn't want to ruin this beautiful friendship.
what could be worse than unrequited love? he used to think that nothing could be worse than that.
but being ignored by you is worse than everything. he doesn't know if he can live without hearing your laugh every time he hums something silly; he doesn't know if he can pretend everything is fine.
he doesn't know if he can take his own torturing thoughts saying that you never liked him, not even a bit.
he's hurt.
the telephone rings at hayvenhurst.
michael immediately walks away from his bedroom, goes downstairs, and picks up the telephone.
thump. thump. thump. thump. thump.
his head is spinning with the adrenaline that runs through his veins. he's expecting it to be you, but at the same time, he doesn't even know what words he should say if it's really you.
"michael, it's me." a feminine voice that is not yours comes from the speaker.
he's disappointed that it's not you; instead, it's diana ross. he doesn't know when this thing started; at first, she was more like a mentor to him, an inspiration. she was a beautiful woman, but nothing more than that.
he wouldn't call that thing a relationship; it's definitely not serious between him and diana. they never had sex or shared a real kiss. he didn't think he liked her; it was more like a comfortable situation.
she flirted with him, and he would just let her. it's not like she didn't know about his feelings for you. the funny part about it is that everybody knew, except you. but it was so much easier for him to pretend that he liked the whole situation, and just be passive about it.
and because of that, michael takes a deep breath, and with a fake cheerful voice, he says:
"how are you doing, di?"
"great, just letting you know i'm coming to the club today."
"you are going to 54?"
"yes i am, and you are going too. see you, handsome."
before he could reply with an obviously negative answer, she ended the call. a strange feeling consumes him; he doesn't want to be there to see you dancing with another person. he doesn't know if he can take being ignored by you one more time.
but at the same time, you drive him crazy. it's impossible for him to be away from you. he needs to feel you; he misses your touch, your smell. then he decides. he is going to face you and ask what is wrong.
you are drunk. you don't even remember when you started dancing on the table, but the feeling was good; you could feel the rhythm of the loud music in your ears, and everything was spinning.
but you still couldn't stop thinking about him.
you haven't talked to michael for 2 weeks.
you thought it was the best option, to keep yourself away from this whole situation. you wanted to scream at him, argue with him, ask him why. then you chose the better option: you ignored him for your own well-being.
but even when you did that..... the disgusting scene you watched wouldn't leave your mind.
so you're just drinking. and dancing. with the hope you will not remember any of that.
then you see her. your dizzy mind wasn't capable of imagining them, so that's how you knew that you were really seeing michael and diana.
she was too close to him, letting out a loud laugh at something he had said. you could see her hand wrapped around his arm like glue. his chin was marked with her lipstick print.
and suddenly—when you see that, you don't know how to breathe anymore. a crushing pain invades your chest, and everything seems wrong.
it was supposed to be you. you and him. you and michael. he was supposed to be yours.
jealousy blinds you, your head hurts, and everything turns black. you don't realize when it happened, but the next thing you remember is falling off the table.
then, your ankle hurts like hell. people are so close to you; they are asking what happened, and you can't manage to answer, because right now he emerges out of nowhere, and he's so close to you.
you feel his doe eyes on you, checking if you are really okay. he doesn't say anything; he just pulls you into his arms, and that's when you can finally relax.
you don't know where he is taking you—he's walking fast, as if he is afraid of something happening to you, and you can feel his heart beating so fast against your chest.
you don't see diana at first, but she is there, too.
your whole mood goes down again. michael doesn't say anything for now, but diana is saying something. you can't hear it right. but you understand michael even when he's not saying a word, and then you realize he is uncomfortable.
"diana, can you leave us, please? michael will be taking me home"—you snapped the words with a rush. you didn't wait for her answer; you looked at michael, and he quietly nodded at you as he held you even tighter, walking at a fast pace.
you are in his car now; bill looks at you with a soft smile that warms your heart. you told him to drive you to your place. but michael ignores you and tells bill to take you to hayvenhurst.
taglist: @dirtymartinisz @michaeljacksonsonlylady @nesiris21 @luvingkiku
Good Habits (and Bad)
(Little Miracle Series Pt. 5)
jack abbot x nurse!singlemom!reader (ICU)
little miracle series masterlist
a/n: i hope you enjoy the day shift jailbreak. you might be getting another part later tonight if i finish it in time!
summary: you have been floated to day shift for the day in the ICU. Miracle escapes the daycare: dayshift edition.
tags: once again unrealistic response from the daycare center. that place should be shut down.
wc: 3.1k
˖⋆࿐໋₊ ☆
Once in a blue moon, you would cover a day shift in the ICU. By seniority you were the most likely to be asked because you were the most recent RN. You weren't complaining, you could use the money but it threw you and Miracle off schedule. You would only accept you had a day off the following day. Your nurse manager knew that. So she would corner you and leave you no choice but to say yes. Jack was unable to babysit due to prior obligations so Miracle had to go to daycare.
In the afternoon, the daycare takes a trip to the park across from the hospital for a nice day out. However as they are just about to cross the street, Miracle recognizes the entrance to the ER. She slips through the crowd of kids when another group of kindergartners passes them. She follows them into the waiting room as they wait.
closet confessions ❥ michael jackson
PAIRING: late 70s!michael jackson x black!fem!reader
SUMMARY: inspired by this edit + this edit as well + in which you and Michael like each other, but are too shy to tell each other how you feel, so Michael’s brothers lock you and him in a closet and won’t let you leave until you properly clear the air. 🩷
AUTHOR’S NOTE: reading fics about Michael gave me motivation to write again & i’m so joyful to be back doing what i love 🤭
April Showers Bring May Flowers
a michael jackson x reader story
Chapter 1 - The Girl Is Mine
Chapter 2 - The Lady In My life
Chapter 3 - All I Could Do Was Cry
Chapter 4 - Stormy Weather
Chapter 5 - Tough Mary
Chapter 6 - At last
Chapter 7 - Keep It In The Closet
EARLY MORNINGS | JAAFAR JACKSON
Pairing: Jaafar Jackson x Black!OC Amara Jackson Summary: Amara has early morning opinions about what her man should be doing. Songs: WC: Warnings: 18+ suggestive content Note: headcannon from the miniseries I have for them <3
FUCCK BASHIR & FUCCCK NETFLIX
wait is it too crazy to ask for a little somethin somethin about being postpartum and ur milk is clogged and ur in pain so michael helps u 🤔💭💭💭
what?? yes that’s actually so insane who would write about that—
Stuck
MatureEra!Michael
❥ A short blurb about postpartum reader and her trials with new motherhood with the help of her beloved husband, Michael
❥ 𝒞ℴ𝓃𝓉ℯ𝓃𝓉/𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃ℊ𝓈 ~ Husband!Michael, Michael is a father, reader is a mother, breastfeeding issues (im not well versed in this so if anything is inaccurate #mybadgng💀) nipple sucking, but not in a sexual way, angst, fluff. (idk the word count) and ngl this isn’t proof read #forgiveme
⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰
You had been trying for hours.
Your breasts were sore, your baby was hungry and wailing, and nothing you did could get the milk out of its duct
Sweat trickled down your face and saturated your baby hair, making it stick to your temples, a visual representation of your exhaustion.
“I know baby I know..” You groan in an attempt to soothe the wailing child as you squeeze the pump attached to your boob. “Mommy’s trying..”
You had one arm splayed on the table with your head resting on it, eyes fluttering from the over-exertion.
Your breast had turned bright red at this point, and the nerves in your nipples were shooting a dozen messages to your pain receptors, which was surely not a good sign.
You were so overstimulated that you didn’t notice your husband walking in, body clad in sweatpants and a t-shirt with wet spots in different areas. He had just got home from practice.
His ears perked in a panic when he heard the screeching child, immediately rushing to the dining room and halting once he saw the scene.
“Oh wow…” He muttered to himself in shock as he took it all in. The crying baby on the play-mat in front of you: a silhouette of surrender and lethargy.
Your head slowly rose from its position on the table when you just barely heard his voice.
“Hey Mikey.” Those two words took all your strength to muster.
“Hey…” His feet lift from the floor in a careful stride, moving towards the baby first and picking her up. “What’s… what’s going on here what happened?”
A shuddering sigh blew past your lips. “My boobs are broken, and our daughter is hungry.”
The confession was so blunt, but the way you said it, so fragile like you were blaming yourself made Michael’s chest ache.
“Okay..” He sets the baby down in the play pen not too far from his sight and makes his way back to you. “Cmon, let’s sit up.”
He takes his hands and scoops them under the arm laid on the table and attempts to lift you.
“Alright baby I-“ He grunts as he attempts to lift your deadweight. “I could use a little help here.”
You groan in protest and he stops trying for a minute, moving his hands from beneath you.
“I don’t wanna get up.” You grumble in protest against your arm. “I give up, I don’t wanna try anymore.”
Michael sighs and kisses the crown of your head before truly examining your state.
On the table there were cold compresses, hot compresses. wet tea bags, ointments, pain relievers, all your resorts displayed before him.
When his eyes trail back to you, he sees the breast pump cup protruding out of your shirt, and coming out of the bottom, a long tube connected to the suction tool itself.
All of this while the baby still cries begin to overwhelm Michael too, but he reels it in.
“Angel.. angel look I’m gonna help, okay?” He squats down in front of your seat and looks into your eyes. “I’m gonna make it better, but I need you to sit up for me okay?” His tone was gentler now, a great juxtaposition to the chaos surrounding you both.
A single tear escapes from your eye as you nod and begin to slowly push yourself in the upright position.
“Atta-girl.” He whispers against you as he absentmindedly kisses right above your knee. “Stay there I think I have some books about this.” His reassurance elicited a tired nod from you before he scurried into the book room.
After he rustles through his collection, muttering soft reminders of what to look for to himself, he comes back with three books stacked in his hands.
“Okay..” The books land on the table with a subtle “thunk” before he spreads them out before you both. “I found these, but I think this one will help the most.”
He hands you a thin book with the picture of a woman breastfeeding titled, “Breastfeeding for New Mothers.”
You smirk at your husband and let out a lazy giggle. “When did you get these?” You open the book slowly and graze through the pages.
He returns a smile before kneeling in front of you again, letting his hand slide beneath your shirt to remove the suction cup from your breast.
“I got them when about a day after you told me you were pregnant.” He says it’s like it’s nothing, but it makes your heart swell.
“You’re so sweet, such a good daddy.” You acknowledged as you tuck a loose curl behind his ear.
He just grins, returning to his task of removing the pump. As he gently tugs, you wince, and he instantly pulls away.
“It hurts?”
“Yeah..” You squeeze your eyes shut to push the pain away. “It’s fine just.. just keep going.” You exhale through pursed lips and he hesitates.
“I’m ok, it’ll be fine once it’s off.” Your voice is a pained whisper, but there’s no reluctance.
Michael nods before attempting again, trying a new approach. He takes his free hand to push the flesh downward and out of the cup while simultaneously pulling it off.
Your hand reaches to his shoulder and squeezes it for relief, your nails slightly digging into his skin.
He releases it with a soft pop and you suck in air between your teeth while loosening your grip on him.
“Alright sweet girl I’ve got it off.” His lips meet the sore spot through your shirt and you sigh, letting your hand run through his hair.
“Now let’s see what we’re dealing with here.” He slowly slides your top over your head and examines the issue.
Your breasts are a rashy shade of red, implying irritation. His fingers trace along the curve of them, testing to see if it elicits a pained reaction.
“What’s the verdict?”
“I’m not quite sure…” He murmurs to himself before grabbing the book, eyes never leaving your chest.
You watch as he studies you and flips through the book at the same time, eyes moving back and forth.
“You said they were broken… what did you mean?”
“Nothing was coming out, it’s like… it’s like its stuck or something because I know it’s in there, I can feel it, but it just won’t,” You gesture to yourself hands pointing to the malfunction, “y’know”
He hums in response, turning one more page and scanning it before he turns it to you, pointing at what he just read.
“So you might have a clogged duct.” He explains, as you read the words before you, checking off the matching symptoms to yourself.
His hand reaches to one of your breasts again, focusing on the nipple. “Yeah see?” He attempts to show you, gently moving it to your eyesight. “You see that little white part in the center?”
You squint for a second until you notice it, nodding for confirmation.
“Good okay so the book says that…” He cranes his neck to see it, “says it’s called a ‘milk bleb’? Yeah, it’s that.”
“Okaayyy.. so what do I do?”
He sets the book down before standing up and walking towards the heat compress on the other side of the table.
His path pauses as he stops at the playpen to check in on the small human, cooing gently at the now, relatively, quiet child.
“Thank you for being so patient, angel.” He places two fingers to his lips then to her cheek. “Mommy will be back in business soon, I promise.”
He takes the compress off the table and presses a button. “Ok, book says we need this.” He holds it up and walks back towards you.
“Michael, you gotta wrap it in the cloth or you’re gonna burn my skin off.”
“Oh..” He turns on his heels and grabs the cloth next to it, holding it like a prize before returning to his position in front of you.
“It says the warm compress should uh…” He glances at the book, “should soften the milk clots.”
He’s moreso talking to himself when he places the compress on your swollen chest without warning, but he’s so gentle that you don’t flinch.
“Mike I tried this already.”
“I know, I know but I just wanna try again. I might have the magic touch.” His brows wiggle playfully and you roll your eyes in response, allowing him to continue.
“You’re so silly.” A deep breath settles in you.
“It’s my best quality!” He teases in defense as his lips place gentle kisses to your thighs, trying to bring comfort to your stoic distress.
You simply hum in response as he starts to knead the area beneath the compress with a featherlight pressure.
“Mm..” A soft sound escapes your lips from the sensation. “That kinda hurts..” You mumble to your husband but he continues, just softer.
“Yeah I know.” He reaches up to kiss the swell of your chest before returning to his position. “But it says it’s supposed to help loosen it and what not.”
“If it becomes unbearable let me know okay?”
You nod again, taking another deep sigh, letting your eyes rest as he takes care of you.
“Hey you know…” He starts, letting his free hand caress your calf.
“Hm?” you sound, eyes still shut.
“It says stress can play a role in this too..” His words are suggestive, almost to draw a reaction from you.
“Really?” Your tone is bordering condescending, but the playfulness in it covers it.
But of course he notices, he notices everything about you.
“Yes, really. Don’t be a smart butt.”
His hand trails higher to your thigh, massaging the skin beneath it.
“I know you’ve been stressed… doing this whole mother thing pretty much by yourself while I’ve been working..” His voice drops before his next words. “I’m sorry..” the breath in his lungs catch before he can finish.
“Michael..” Your eyes open up again, looking down at the sight before you.
“No I don’t want you to try and comfort me right now.. let me be that for you this time.”
He inhales.
“I just wanna say I’m sorry that I can’t be here as much as I want to be… as much as you need to be. I know it puts a lot on your plate, trying to care for her, for me…” He pauses for a second..
“But you’re forgetting to take care of yourself in the process.”
The truth lands like a blow, stunning your ability to speak.
“You haven’t been eating, and when I come home at night you’re awake. When I get up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom, you’re still awake.”
Your eyes start to blur so you look away, staring into the distance to avoid his eyes.
“No don’t do that.. don’t shut down on me.” It’s as if he’s talking to a toddler. “I’m not attacking you, I’m worried about you, and I hate that..” He chokes.
“I hate that I’m not here enough to take care of you when you can’t.”
You don’t respond at first, but your eyes make their way back to his, a tear escaping at the motion.
“You work, Mike… and not just the average call out job… which I am not asking you to do..”
“I know, but—“
“Look…” You try to find the words to comfort him and he sees it. He hates that you feel obligated to comfort him, even at your lowest.
“You’re here now, and you’re always here when I need you… please don’t blame this on yourself.”
His forehead falls to your knee, a gesture of frustration and surrender.
“Baby..” he tries, but you shake your head.
“We are both… dealing with a lot. And we are both trying our best to do so.. your stress is just as justified as mine, even when you don’t think I see it.”
“But my stress isn’t.. it isn’t disrupting my life, not like yours is..” His words are careful, tiptoeing around nerves. “Not like this..”
Again, silence is your response.
“Angel face..” His hand reaches to your cheek and you instinctively move towards the warmth, eyes softly closing as a tear expels.
He watches your face, truly examining it. Your under eyes have darkened, your cheeks have soft divots in them in replacement of the suppleness expressed in them before. You just look so drained.
“You know what..” He mutters, grabbing your hand to hold the compress before getting up.
“Where are you going?”
He doesn’t answer, he just picks up the phone and dials.
“Yes.. Yes it’s Michael.” he starts, waiting for a moment before continuing. “Yes, I need to cancel the rest of the tour.”
“Michael..” You sit up in your seat slightly.
He doesn’t respond.
“Yes, the entire rest of the month. I’ll ensure that the venues are paid for and everyone is reimbursed. Find out the information of the ticket buyers and I’ll also include exclusive signed merchandise.” He pauses for a moment before flinching, obviously being yelled at but he stands his ground.
“Yes. Yes I understand.. Thank you. Yes just send the shirts to my estate.” He nods. “Ok, see you in a week.” and he hangs up.
Your mouth opens to speak as he walks back towards you, but he stops the words with a claiming kiss, stealing your breath with the impact.
“Let me… take care of you.” His words are slow as his lips graze yours, pulling away once you nod in compliance.
“Thank you.” Is all he replies before kneeling in front of you again, taking the compress from your hand.
“Okay, now…” He looks through the book again.
“Says we should try suctioning again.”
Your head throws back in grievance as you reach for the pump but Michael stops you.
“Im gonna try something different..” he moves towards you slowly, wrapping his lips around just your nipple.
Your breath hitches.
“Shh, it’s okay. Just wanna try something a little more gentle.”
“Okay..” is all you mutter, body and brain to tired to quip or protest.
He suckles against you gently, massaging the flesh simultaneously.
You just watch, running a hand through his hair every so often.
“Mm wait..” he says like he’s discovered something. The pace of his suction quickens and he places more of you in his mouth, eyes widening.
“Is it working?”
He nods, sucking a little bit more to ensure it’s not just luck.
He pulls away and displays his tongue, showing you the expelled milk with a smile and you jump out of your seat in celebration.
“YES FINALLY!”
Michael follows suit and you rush into his embrace, placing frantic kisses all over as you spill tears of joy.
“You’re okay, you’re okay!” He laughs with a comfort as he rocks you back and forth.
“All better now..” He leaves a tentative kiss to your forehead before pulling away to retrieve the now sleeping infant.
“Alright..” His arms extend her to you and you grab her.
“Round two.” You sniff as you make your way to the seat. Once you’re adjusted, Michael helps place your nipple into to your awakening child’s mouth, letting go once she latches.
You both sit in a stillness as you wait, and as soon as you see her tiny cheeks moving and her face relax, you both release a heavy exhale.
“Thank you, Mikey” You whisper as you lean to him for a kiss, another tear dampening his skin at contact.
“You don’t have to thank me, I’m your husband…the father to our baby, hopefully eventually our babies..” He pushes a strand of hair behind your ear. “I’m supposed to take care of you.”
You melt at his words, placing your lips softly against his soft cheek before laughing at the suggestion. “Yeah.. eventually.” You caress the tiny being in your arms as Michael sits crossed leg in front of you, resting against you as he watches in awe.
A silence fills the room around the domestic scene, the tranquility allow all earlier feelings to settle.
~
“So…” you break the silence for a beat
“Hm?”
“How many people did you piss off by canceling the last stretch?”
He laughs at your inquiry, planting his lips against your plus skin above your knee.
“Not enough with actual power to pry me away from you, I can promise that..”
Your lips curl at his words.
“Good.”
———————————————————————
* This was so fun to write I’m such a sap 😭😭
and the whole world has to answer right now just to tell you once again who's bad ♪
i still mourn studio 54 scenes and kat graham acting as diana.