𝐌𝐲𝐚!

𝚋𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚊𝚜𝚏! 𝚜𝚑𝚎/𝚑𝚎𝚛 🪩🪐🍃 20 :)

[krys4h-deactivated20260517]

bimbo black readers i love you

shy black readers i love you

insecure black readers i love you

baddie black readers i love you

hood/"ghetto" black readers i love you

chubby black readers i love you

weird black readers i love you

nerdy black readers i love you

neurodivergent black readers i love you

mentally ill black readers i love you

they could never make me hate you <3

[invinor]

this is how life feels now every time i dive into the “michael x reader” tag after a long ass day

[r3ady00rnot]

m.i.a

michael jackson x singer! black reader

summary: after finding a stack a letters your husband kept, you go radio silence only to show up unconventionally a month later.

warnings/content: reader is a mother, talks of insecurities and betrayal, that lady’s existence is implied but never explicitly stated, reader sings sorry (original demo), and angst!

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ🛸༄˖°.

it had been a month since you’d left your house and that month had gone by faster than you expected.

you didn’t mind it though, you were busy recording new music and being a mom, and you’d convinced yourself that it was proof that you were better off.

thirty days ago you’d left the house you shared with the love of your life, your husband and father of your child. and in that moment, you were a little heartbroken and maybe a little relieved that you had left before things could get worse.

it all started after you gave birth three years ago, your husband, michael, was always intensely involved in your needs and what made you happy, to the point where he’d buy the moon if it brought you a fraction of happiness.

one of the things that brought you happiness was the distance he’d had between a woman from his past.

at first you tolerated the woman, she was in the industry with the two of you, and there was nothing wrong with companionship in a life like this. then she’d push boundaries that would make you uncomfortable, a lingering hand on michael’s shoulder, an unprompted kiss on the cheek, weird little acts of intimacy.

maybe it was your heightened emotions after giving birth to your daughter; but when you brought it up to michael, it was through frustrated tears and talks of distancing yourself if he didn’t stop the behavior, and while michael didn’t see the situation in the same way you did put a barrier up for the sake of your mental health and his daughter.

things went back to normal after that. you didn’t hear much about the woman after that and michael didn’t mention her, you went back to the usual red carpet events, the two of you making your respective music, and being the best parents to a child who needed as much attention as they could get.

then that specific day happened

“mommy!” a high-pitched voice sang out, from the living room couch you heard the little footsteps of your daughter marley before she appeared in all of her toddler glory.

you looked up from your notebook and smiled. “Hi baby” you said, noticing an envelope in her hand.

she toddled over to you. “the door gave us mail!” she squealed, referencing the mail slot in the front door.

you put her into your lap quickly peeking at the letter seeing ‘michael jackson’ written on the front.

“It’s daddy’s” you gasped looking at the toddler.

“let’s go put it in his office.” you encouraged, marley nodded and darted off down the hall. you laughed taking your time to get to the office.

inside it was cluttered, shelves filled to capacity with books, random toys of marley’s on the floor, his desk was littered with papers, and a family photo of the three of you guys.

you sat the letter down on his desk, then reached for the picture frame. you pouted in admiration it was a photo of you, michael, and marley sleeping in bed during her baby years.

“aww,” you whispered, setting the frame back down. while your hand moved away from it, it stopped right in front of a piece of paper left out on his desk, and usually you would’ve just gone on about your day.

but you couldn’t when you saw a familiar name.

immediately you had a sinking feeling in your chest, a part of you wanted to brush it off as insecurity or overdramatics but then you lifted the paper and realized it was a letter.

a letter michael had written.

your brain had started to swirl with emotions, every negative thought you’d felt from three years ago came rushing back faster than you could process.

you wanted to trust michael, and believe it was a way of venting. but you knew that if you didn’t read the letter you’d be stuck for days.

so you read it.

it was the casual stuff, talking about how time was passing, life updates…how he sometimes missed her.

you’d gotten upset after that.

then during an act of rage you’d went through a few of his desk drawers, until you found a small stack of off-white envelopes.

you read every single one.

you found out that they’d been back in communication for around four months. you felt betrayed, you hated how he’d willingly gone behind your back especially dealing with something that caused such insecurities for you.

every framed picture and window in that office became very desirable to break after that. but you wouldn’t do that especially when your daughter was playing with toys just feet away.

taking the opposite approach you just placed the envelopes on the desk, leaving the disrespect in the open.

you picked marley up and walked out of the office. you packed a small bag for each of you with the initial plan for it to be an overnight bag to clear your head.

but they didn’t happen.

two days before you left your house you’d gotten a call from your manager about performing for MTV unplugged. she said it would be a good idea to hold fans over until you started working on a new album.

you’d agreed to it, however when you left— the agreement seemed impossible to fulfill because you’d basically gone m.i.a

granted, you didn’t fully go quiet. your manager and mother knew where you and your marley were. it was just that michael didn’t.

he’d already suspected it was about the letters he’d stowed away now being out for anyone to see.

and he was bubbling over with anxiety not knowing where his wife and child could be on the planet.

he’d called your parents and manager relentlessly, talked to his sisters and brothers but nobody could give him an answer.

you were aware of all this…you just couldn’t find it in yourself to talk to him.

when paparazzi caught him without you for two weeks straight and they asked about your whereabouts he couldn’t give anyone a straight answer. that alone started a frenzy.

then thirty excruciating days later, he saw you on television.

you’d just finished one of your older songs. you took a swig of water, sitting it next to the stool you’d been perched on.

“i haven’t mentioned it yet but i like being back in new york.” you smiled, the crowd cheered.

“yeah, i haven’t been here in over two years—now i’m back with a three-year-old.” you laughed, thinking about how much marley enjoyed the city.

“my baby is definitely a fan of times square. i got to make sure i get her a ‘i heart new york shirt’ before we leave.” you giggled.

you took a second as your band began to fiddle with their instruments. trying to master the live sound of a song you’d just recorded a few days after you left home.

something you’d written while you were at the height of your anger.

“okay, next song!” you said, the crowd began to cheer again. “this song is new. it’s really personal too…enjoy nosy people.”

swaying to the instrumental you let yourself feel the music, feel the feelings you hadn’t told anyone out loud yet.

“the big homie better hold up.” you sang softly. “big homie better hold up.

you closed your eyes, wanting to imagine michale’s face as if he’d been sitting front row watching you lay out your grievance.

“hell no, i ain’t gon call you back.” you waved your finger at the camera, finally locking eyes with it.

“you’d chase me round the world just to fall back. ain’t nobody got no time for that, tryna keep my family right.”

you continued on emphasizing certain lyrics, as if you were taunting your husband, almost like you knew he was watching.

“we truly could’ve been living young, wild, and free” you finished singing.

the big hotel room you’d resided in was quiet except for the faint hums of the sleepless city and a rerun of an episode of a different world that you weren’t watching.

marley’s small body was sprawled across the king size bed, a purple crayon in hand as she colored enthusiastically in a coloring book.

you sat on the edge of the bed, still in your performance outfit — a simple white tee, cardigan, and jeans. trying to make peace with yourself for putting your business out in the world.

the moment of reflection was interrupted when the phone rang obnoxiously.

you stared at it.

marley looked up, her eyebrows scrunching together not understanding why you didn’t pick up the phone. "mommy, the phone."

"I know, baby." you sighed softly.

truth be told, you didn’t have a reason not to pick up the phone. but then again you’d been trying to decompress and talking to someone who wasn’t your child didn’t seem relaxing.

you let it ring again. that turned into it ringing two more times before it finally stopped. you let out a breath. free from the annoying sound.

thirty seconds later, it rang again.

marley put her crayon down. "mommy, are you answering it?"

you stared at the phone apart of you wanting to reply with a “not really”. but you knew that if it was your mom or your manager you couldn't ignore it forever.

you picked up the receiver. "hello?"

then a familiar voice fell on your ears, making a chill shoot down your spine. "hey."

you closed your eyes. of course it was him.

"how did you get this number?"

"i called your manager again. she didn't want to give it to me." he paused before letting out a weak laugh. "so i called her seven times."

you could picture that sight, him sitting in his office or the living room with the phone in his lap ready to call back to back.

"i saw you," he said. "i saw the unplugged” he elaborated.

“you were... you were really good."

while you did enjoy the compliment, your patience was running thin. "michael." you rolled your eyes.

"just let me talk. please?" His voice cracked slightly. "i’ve been losing my mind for a month. no one would tell me where you were. i didn't know if you and marley were safe, if you were eating, if you were okay —"

"we’re fine." you stated with more attitude than you intended. "we’ve been fine."

there was a long pause. you heard him exhale knowing it was a mix of satisfaction that his family was okay and sadness of knowing he couldn’t see them.

"i know this is about the letters" he said quietly.

you gasped sarcastically. “how’d you know?”

he let out a defeated sigh. "i know it looks bad. but i was trying to end it. that was going to be it. i was going to tell her i couldn't do it anymore, that i had a family, that i loved my wife. i just never got the chance to send it before you saw it."

you shut your eyes tightly. "you promised me three years ago," you said.

"you were supposed to stop talking to her. and you decided to start writing her. for four months, michael."

"i know." michael’s voice broke. "and i know i don't have a right to ask you to come home. but I'm asking anyway. i’m begging."

you looked at marley, who was happy and unaware coloring. "I can't do this right now," you shook your head as if he could see.

"then tomorrow. or next week. just…please don’t let us be over.”

—okay I’m going to lay off the angst for like three days lol. also should i make a list of all my oneshots? i know i don’t have a ton but i don’t want them getting lost since i reblog stuff

⊹ ࣪ ˖

[mrawkweird]

The look goes so well I almost stopped functioning.

[michaellvr]

GIRL NEXT DOOR

in which your new neighbor keeps making up the world’s worst excuses just to see you.

michael jackson x fem! black reader

moving into a new neighborhood was supposed to be a fresh start, but after a week of unpacking boxes, your family’s new house still didn’t feel like home. your parents were busy trying to organize everything, your siblings were already complaining about their new rooms, and you had escaped the chaos by sitting on the front porch with your cassette player beside you, enjoying the warm summer evening.

that was when you noticed michael.

well, you had noticed him before. he was the boy next door who always seemed to be outside with his siblings, whether they were riding bikes down the street, playing games in the yard, or arguing over who got to use the basketball first. he was quieter than the rest of them, but he always seemed to glance over at your house like he wanted to say something.

apparently, today was the day he finally did.

you heard a knock on the door and looked back toward the house, calling out that you would get it before opening it. standing there was michael, holding a small bag in his hands with an expression that made it obvious he had already rehearsed whatever he was about to say.

“hi,” he greeted, offering a shy smile. “i’m michael. i live next door.” you smiled, leaning against the doorway. “i figured. i’ve seen you around.”

he laughed quietly, looking down at the bag. “my mom made cookies, but we ran out of sugar, so i was wondering if i could borrow some.”

you looked at him for a second before glancing behind you at the boxes scattered throughout the house. “michael, we just moved here. i don’t even know where our sugar is.”

his face immediately changed from confident to embarrassed, and he let out a small laugh. “okay, when you say it like that, it sounds like a pretty bad excuse.”

you couldn’t help smiling. “a little.”

“MICHAEL!! MOTHER WANTS YOU!” before he could respond, one of his younger siblings; janet, you assumed; called his name.

“i should probably go before they come looking for me,” he said, but he didn’t move right away.

“see you later, michael.” he smiled. “yeah. see you.” you thought that would be the end of it.

it wasn’t.

a few days later, michael showed up again, this time with his brothers and sisters outside playing in the yard. he claimed he needed your opinion on a record because “you looked like someone who would know good music.” you immediately pointed out that he had never even heard you talk about music before, and he just laughed, admitting that maybe he was “guessing.”

after that, the excuses only got worse.

sometimes he came over because he needed help picking out a movie. sometimes he wanted to know where your family bought groceries. once, he showed up claiming one of his basketballs had rolled into your yard, even though you had watched him carry it back inside five minutes earlier.

“you know you’re not very good at making excuses, right?” you teased one afternoon when you caught him staring at the same basketball he had already “lost” twice.

he smiled, looking down like he had been caught. “maybe i’m not trying to be good at it.”

that made you pause.

because somewhere between the fake reasons, the summer evenings on the porch, and the times his siblings would tease him for always finding a reason to come over, you started realizing something.

michael didn’t really need excuses.

he just liked being around you.

and maybe you didn’t mind that as much as you thought you would.

sorry this is super short 🥹!! i haven’t wrote on here in a while, ngl this app is SUPER hard to work as an author. feel free to request!! i need ideas :>

[r3ady00rnot]

gardening

jermajesty jackson x black!reader / jaafar jackson x platonic! black reader

summary: during your monthly smoke session your boyfriend and his brother join along

warnings/content: fluff!, jaafar is an inexperienced smoker, talks of greening out, and talks about reefer…obviously

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ🛸༄˖°.

grey clouds took over the sky of california, dimming the apartment you shared with your boyfriend, jermajesty. the darkness was accompanied by the sound of rain tapping against the windows serving as the best white noise.

you’d loved days like this—especially since you’d reserved one rainy day out of the month to garden.

you walked barefoot to the kitchen, taking a glance at your boyfriend, jermajesty, and his brother, jaafar, who’d been visiting.

you quietly pulled out your butter cookie tin from the cabinet and walked over to the balcony door.

“stinky where you going?” jermajesty asked before you opened the door.

you raised the tin container, his eyes locked onto it immediately knowing what that symbolized. “can i come?”

shrugging your shoulders in response you opened the door; jermajesty stood from his seat on the couch jaafar looked up confused but followed his brother out to the balcony.

jermajesty took a seat next to you on the outdoor loveseat while jaafar occupied a chair.

“what are y'all doing?” jaafar finally asked.

he was met with an answer when you opened the tin, inside were four pink cones you grabbed one; taking a lighter out of the basketball shorts you wore.

you glanced over at him “do you smoke jaafar?”

he shook his head. “i haven’t before.”

you nodded at his answer, lighting the cone, its pink tip turning a molten orange. you put it in between your lips inhaling.

you let the smoke escape your mouth before skillfully sucking it back into your mouth.

“do you want to try?” you raised an eyebrow passing the joint to jermajesty.

jaafar watched as jermajesty took his turn inhaling the herb. he shrugged reaching over to take the joint from his brother. he inspected it for a second.

“why is it pink?”

you smiled proudly “they’re made out of roses.”

he chuckled at your excitement putting the joint to his lips. “okay, now just inhale and basically swallow” you explained.

he nodded, doing as told, coughing the opaque smoke out. “okay, don’t overdo it, j.” you cringed taking the joint.

the three of you rotated the joint for a while, the pink cone getting shorter watching as the rain continued to pour. you put the joint in a small ashtray tucking your knees into your malcom x shirt. you and jermajesty scooted closer together enjoying each other’s warmth, showing each other tiktoks.

“can we do this tonight?” jermajesty asked, showing you a video of a newborn.

your eyebrows scrunched confused at the request. “no?” you replied.

he laughed, tipping his head into the crook of your neck. the feeling of cottonmouth made him stop. “i'm thirsty.” he sighed standing up.

“you want me to bring you some water?” he offered. you shook your head. “what about you, j?”

you glanced over to jaafar who’d been silent, you’d expect that from a first-time high but once you noticed how his chest was moving you sat up straighter.

“j you okay?”

he shook his head unconvincingly. “yeah im just a little paranoid.” he chuckled.

you stood up immediately walking over to help him up. “let’s go inside before you green out.” you told him ushering his back into the house and sitting him on the couch.

turning to jermajesty you spoke. “can you make sure he don’t freak out?”

jermajesty nodded, sitting back on the couch with his brother.

a few minutes later you came back with two mugs, handing one to each brother before going back to get your own. “it’s lavender green tea,” you told jaafar.

“it should help calm you down.”

you then reached for the TV remote on the coffee table turning the TV on to ponyo since that was always relaxing to you while high.

you watched intently as jaafar drank his tea making sure he didn’t get overwhelmed. when he set his mug down you went to pick yours up only to see it was already off the table.

turning you scrunch your nose at jermajesty, who was drinking from it. “why’d you take my mug?”

he whined jokingly “cause how come you got the zelda one?”

“because you whined last time i had the naruto one.”

he sighed knowing he couldn’t argue with you about it and let the conversation fade out.

you and jermajesty settled into the corner of the couch you head on his shoulder while he had his arm around your waist. a bit into the movie, jaafar had scooted closer to you resting his head on your calf.

after a while he looked up at you. “i really hope you stay in this family for a while” he admitted.

you poked your bottom lip out looking at jermajesty, who was holding back a laugh at how high his brother was.

you tapped jaafar’s head lightly. “tell your brother to put a ring on it and i can be your sister.”

—this one shot was a little on the weaker side, also wrote this because I’m craving cannabis but im not smoking anytime soon :) lastly I got two one shots based off Beyoncé songs (heated and sorry) in my drafts :P

[mikaylajacksonnn]

how it feels to be one of the few people who like when a fic says ‘mama’ or ‘mami’ when everyone else says it’s corny

[sunsetdrvr]

·˚ ༘ little invitations ²

⊱ late bad era! michael jackson x single mom! reader summary: you find yourself in impossible situations, being a mom to the world's most extroverted five (well, six) year old. notes: fluff, michael soft-launching how great of a step-dad he'd be tbh, i hope you guys love this family as much as i do <3 5.9k words

pt. one here

friday evening had been an absolute war zone.

once you left the bakery, you’d spent the entire day in a frenzy– blowing up balloons until your cheeks ached and you saw stars, filling the mickey ears piñata with candy that you knew would end up biting you in the ass. khalil and candy were a terrible mix. you’d had at least three nightmares about the sugar highs you knew you’d be going up against.

then came the music. nearly two hours were spent hunched over your stereo with a blank cassette tape, carefully recording songs from your record collection. you’d made the perfect playlist–upbeat, kid-friendly, long enough to last the whole party– and tested it twice on your portable boombox to make sure the sound was good enough for the park.

and the presents… oh, god, the presents. the pile tipped over when you’d finally gotten around to tugging your closet doors open. you knew khalil would be overjoyed when seeing them tomorrow, but tonight? you were regretful. your fingers were callused in the spots where the scissors pressed against you and you’d pulled at least twenty pieces of tape from random parts of your body. 

it didn’t help that you kept having to toss presents under the bed and play innocent when your door would creak open and khalil, the little shit, would poke his head in– asking questions that made your eyes twitch. 

“mommy, would you rather have tentacles for arms or tree trunks for legs?”

“mommy, what’s the worst smell in the world?”

“mommy, if broccoli was a drink, would you drink it?”

when really, he’d just wanted to catch a glimpse of the presents he could hear you preparing from his room next-door. you’d finished wrapping by the time he’d prepared a fourth question, thank the lord, because you were one ‘mommy’ away from driving him to his grandmother.

by ten o’clock, you’d collapsed on the couch, the boombox sitting heavy on the coffee table in front of you, swearing to yourself that you would never do this again– and then switching to ‘not for another year’ because who were you kidding? you’d be right back in this position on khalil’s seventh birthday. 

in a moment of weakness, you prayed that you’d have someone by your side by that point– to love you and your son so graciously that every daunting task you faced alone these days would feel like a walk in the park with him. your feet ached double time just thinking about not having it. your back ached. your soul ached.

but saturday morning came anyway, whether you were ready or not.

you woke to khalil already bouncing around each room in his birthday excitement, his little feet thundering down the hallway. sitting up in bed, your brain works overtime, running through your checklist within five minutes of being conscious. the cake sat safely in the fridge. the decorations were ready. khalil’s outfit was pressed and hanging on his closet door. your mother and younger sister, in their respective cars, would be at your apartment in a matter of hours to help haul items to the park. everything was prepared.

except, you’re faced with a whole new dilemma. one that you’d thought of once and didn’t think of again. 

how would you warn the people coming?

your family– your mom, your aunties, your cousins– they were huge michael jackson fans. your mother had a framed thriller poster hanging in her living room, for god’s sake. your cousin had traveled to a different country to see him in concert. if michael jackson walked into that park, to your party, unannounced… well, you didn’t want to ponder too long over what might happen.

but, if you told them…

you slouched over, holding your forehead in your hands. it was a lose, lose situation! you could already see it: your auntie calling her church friends. your cousin bringing her college friends. word spreading like wildfire until your son's small-ish, intimate birthday party turned into a mob scene. michael would be swarmed.

no, you absolutely couldn’t risk it. 

though, impulsive un-wanted thoughts crowded you seconds later… picturing your mother fainting! her falling to the floor at the mere sight of him. 

you reached for the phone on your nightstand, then hesitated. your mom would still lose her mind if you told her now. she’d probably faint the second the words left your mouth, and then she’d faint again when actually at the park, before michael had even gotten there– just imagining him walking up. 

but your older brother… maybe you could at least tell him. and then make him promise not to say anything. you dialed his number before you could talk yourself out of it.

“yeah?” his voice was groggy, annoyed.

“marc, it’s me.”

“girl, it’s seven in the morning. why are you–”

“shh. i need to tell you something,” you paused at the sound of a creaking door, looking up as khalil bounces in and makes himself comfortable on your bed. you lovingly roll your eyes– he definitely got his nosey tendencies from you. “and promise me you won’t tell another soul.”

a pause. then, suspicious: “... what did you do?”

“i didn’t do anything–” you took a deep breath. “don’t tell mama, okay? she’d fall out before she even makes it to the party.”

“oh, god, (name). don’t tell her what? spit it out, i ain’t got all day.”

“that… michael jackson is coming.”

silence.

then a rather loud snort of laughter. you jerk the phone away from your ear when another burst of laughs follow and khalil gives you a wide-eyed, questioning look. you shake your head before bringing the phone back to your ear. “i’m serious, marc.”

khalil leans up to put his two cents in: “yeah, michael is coming, uncle marcus!”

“michael jackson.” your brother’s voice is flat, disbelieving. “michael. jackson. is coming to khalil’s birthday party. in a random ol’ oakland park?”

“well, yes.” you emphasize.

“the michael jackson.”

“marcus–”

“nah, nah, hold on.” he was fully awake now, and you could hear the grin in his voice. “you’re tellin’ me that my knucklehead sister is a personal friend of michael jackson?”

“i didn’t say we were friends, i just–”

“well ya gotta be close-close to come to the family function!”

“i’m being serious.”

“and so am i! i’m just trying to understand how you and mike got so tight. did y’all meet at the grocery store? did he help you reach something on the top shelf?”

“khalil spoke with him in a bakery yesterday and invited him, and he said yes, and i needed to tell someone– but don’t tell mama because you know how she is–”

“wait, really?” marcus questions, and your shoulders relax from their tense positioning. he was finally listening. “i won’t tell mama… as long as you don’t tell her that i met prince at the doctors office and he’ll be there as well–”

“my god! i’m not joking, marcus.”

“neither am i. you see, me and prince? we go way back–”

“oh, go fuck yourself.” you give up, pinching the bridge of your nose before you flinch– hand flying to cover your mouth when you remember your son is in the room. “why did i even call you?”

“you needed to tell somebody about your little fantasy. so when your ‘close friend’ mike jackson doesn’t show up, are you gonna blame traffic, or–”

“goodbye, marcus.”

you slam the phone back onto its base, feeling like you’d aged thirty years. 

as you piggyback khalil to the kitchen, you hope that your brother keeps this to himself– whether he believed you or not.

khalil sits at the table and carefully sketches something you couldn’t decipher– continuing the drawing he’d started the night before. as you go to open the cabinet holding your cookware, both of your landlines ring out, shrill in the otherwise peaceful moment. you sigh, turning to answer the one in the living room. 

if you knew one thing, you knew your brother was terrible at remembering details. it just had to be him calling back, wondering when the party started.

you snatch up the receiver. “you already forgot, huh? it’s at two o’clock, ya jive turkey.”

silence.

then, soft and distant, like they were multiple feet from the phone, came the sound of your name. your stomach drops. that wasn’t marcus. it was much too quiet.

“oh– yes, this is she?” you straightened, suddenly very aware of how you’d just answered. there was a rustling sound, like the phone being adjusted, and then his voice came through clearer. unmistakable.

“hi. i’m sorry to call so early. i’ve been trying to reach you.”

michael.

for the second time that morning, you slam the phone down– hanging up without a second thought. you press a hand to your chest, your heart pounding and blood rushing. you’d just called him a fucking jive turkey… and then proceeded to hang up in his face. you were so damned embarrassed. you half-hoped you would faint right then and there, for just a second's relief from your poor decisions.

you paced back and forth, the cold of the hardwood flooring seeping through the threads of your socks– jumping and turning when the phone began to ring again. you stared at it like it might bite you.

one ring.

two… 

three…

on the fourth, you squeezed your eyes shut and snatched it up, your voice coming out breathless and ashamed. “i am so sorry, i thought you were my brother, i didn't mean to–”

a soft laugh interrupted you. quiet but amused, without a doubt. “it’s okay,” michael affirmed gently. it was crazy, how you could hear the smile in his voice. “my own brothers have called me much worse.”

you pressed your palm to your forehead, cringing while he pokes fun at you. “i’m so embarrassed. i just… wasn’t expecting–”

“i know. it’s alright. really.”

you exhaled shakily when you realize you’d been holding your breath, turning to press your back against the wall. you take a few beats to collect yourself before speaking again. “um– thank you… for yesterday. at the bakery. you didn’t have to do that. the cookies, the cake– all of it. it was really kind of you, michael.”

“oh,” he sounded almost bashful. “it was nothing.”

“it wasn’t nothing,” you insisted, pulling the phone cord and releasing it– watching it spring to its resting position. “it meant a lot. to khalil. to me.”

“i’m very glad.” there was a pause, and when he spoke again, his voice was quieter. “well, i won’t take up too much of your time, i swear. i know you’re probably terribly busy today. i just had a question…”

you bit your lip, waiting patiently on the other end. only to be met with static. “...michael?”

“right. yes.” theres a muffled sound– clearing his throat, maybe? “i wanted to make sure i had the right address. riverside park, right? near the playground?”

the way he pronounces ‘right’–the ‘t’ overly enunciated– successfully distracts you. it plays on repeat in your mind before you realize you hadn’t yet replied. “yes, that’s right.”

if he notices your pause, he doesn’t mention it. “and it starts at two?”

“yes.”

“and… khalil likes mickey mouse?”

you blink, a smile tugging at your lips. what kind of question? “well, yes. did y’forget that fast? he only mentioned it a million times yesterday.”

“right. of course.” a small chuckle. “and… does he like balloons?”

“what kid doesn’t like balloons?”

another pause. “and… cake? he likes cake?”

“michael, i’m starting to think you just called to hear yourself speak.”

“no… no. not myself, at least.”

your heart skips, stutters, and fully stops. not himself. the words hang in the air between you and you blink– mind spiraling in a dozen directions at once. you instantly rationalize it, telling yourself that you were reading too much into those two words. that whatever he’d meant by it absolutely wasn’t what you were thinking.

“actually,” michael speaks again, moving past it faster than you can. “i do have another question. just one more.”

you hum into the receiver, not trusting your voice quite yet.

“will you already be at the park by one o’clock?”

you’d grown suspicious immediately– with a hint of childish amusement at the fact that he’d said ‘o’clock’. “i will be… why?”

“i’ve kind of… planned to send something to help.”

“help? help with what?”

“with the party, of course.”

you sputtered down the line, “michael– you’ve already done so much. you genuinely don’t need to–”

“i want to.”

“but you’ve already paid for the cake, a-and the cookies, and you’re coming to the party, which is already more than–”

“it’s really not a big deal.”

“except it kind of is,” you sass back. “you–i mean this in the most respectful way– you barely know us. why are you doing all of this?”

silence.

you could only hear him breathing on the other end, slow and steady. 

“well… i have my reasons.”

you paused, waiting for him to continue and sighing when he doesn’t. “may i ask what they are?”

“no, you may not.” he replies simply.

the way he said it–so matter-of-fact– made you laugh despite yourself. you bring a hand to your mouth in an attempt to muffle it. “okay,” you repeat, “okay. fine. you win that one.”

“thank you.” he’s smug, smiling at the sound of your giggling as he says it.

“by the way, khalil hasn’t stopped talking about you. he’s wished for time control super-powers, just to fast forward to his party. to seeing his ‘friend michael’ again.”

“i’m looking forward to it too,” michael’s voice is noticeably softer– something vulnerable and genuine threading through it. “it’s been… a while since i’ve done something like this. something so…” he trailed off, searching for the word. “...normal.”

your chest tightened. you didn’t know what to say to that. didn’t know how to respond to the weight of what he’d just shared with you. the tiny hint of loneliness he felt, on a deeper level than most.

“well, i’m–or, uh, we’re really, really glad you’re coming.”

“yeah, i am too.”

by the time the two of you hang up just a few minutes after, your heart is racing just like the start of the call– though this time not from embarrassment. it was something else entirely.

hours later, you stand in the approximate middle of the park area you'd claimed. it was perfect in terms of spacing: big enough for khalil’s audience, but not so big that the decorations seem sparse. 

you watch the scene unfold around you. red, white, black, and yellow balloons bobbed in the breeze, tied to every available surface. streamers twisted overhead between the trees, creating a canopy of colors that catch the afternoon sun. luckily, the weather had been on your side– the highest temperature it’d been since november's start.

life sized face-in-hole cutouts of various mickey mouse characters stand guard between the main area and playground; a separate, carefully ornamented section for photo opportunities. 

each table had been adorned with tablecloth, centerpieces set up and felt caps with two black ears and a ‘mickey mouse club’ patch scattered throughout. at one table, your mother had a full spread of food that she’d spent all morning preparing– fried chicken, potato salad, baked beans, mac and cheese, and a towering stack of your grandmother’s sweet cornbread. at the biggest table, under the shade of a tree, sat khalil’s birthday cake and cookies with every present surrounding it.

khalil was living his best life, and his party hadn’t even started yet.

he darted between the tables in his button up, his favorite blue jeans, and bright yellow shoes he’d demanded to wear because mickey wore the same. you hated them with a passion– they squeaked with every step he took. he was a blur of excitement, barely able to contain himself.

“khalil, boy, slow down before you trip and bust your head open!” your mother called out, balancing a tray of cups in one hand while adjusting a streamer with the other.

“i’m fine, grandma!” he shouted back, already halfway across the grass– running from who knows what and to who knows where.

both your brother and sister set up the drink stations, laughing about something you couldn’t quite hear. a few of your friends and cousins were scattered around the area, setting up games, arranging chairs, and hanging the last bit of decorations.

and your grandmother? well, she sat in a folding lawn chair beneath the shade of an oak tree, fanning herself with a church fan and watching everyone else work. ‘y’all got it under control, i’m just here to supervise’ she’d said.

you check your watch, 12:56, as your stomach twists with nerves.

khalil had been so good about keeping michael’s arrival a secret. you’d sat him down before loading him and everything else into your tiny car, explaining that it was a surprise for everyone else, and he’d nodded so seriously– like you’d just entrusted him with classified information. he hasn’t slipped up yet. every time someone would arrive and ask him what he was most excited about, he’d just grin and say, “everything!”

when you take a step toward the drink table, you stop– the low rumble of an engine making you glance toward the parking lot. 

it was a sleek black suv, it’s tinted windows reflecting the sunlight as it pulled into a spot near the edge of the lot. the driver's door opens, and a man you don’t recognize steps out.

he was tall, dressed in a plain black polo and slacks, moving with efficiency to the back of the suv and popping the trunk: revealing three rather large, matte black boxes stacked neatly inside. 

you blinked.

and slowly, you started walking over to him, your shoes crunching against the gravel. he didn’t notice you at first–too focused on adjusting one of the boxes– but when you got within a few feet, he looked up and smiled.

“excuse me,” he started, voice polite and professional. “are you–” he glanced down at a slip of paper in his hand, “–the mother of the birthday boy?”

you nodded, a little breathless. “yes, that’s me.”

“great!” his smile widened. “then i’m in the right place.”

you glanced past him at the boxes, your curiosity piqued. “what… what’s in those?”

“party favors,” he states. as if that explained everything.

“party favors?” you echo, stepping closer. “can i–?”

“of course.” he steps to the side and gestures to the open trunk. you lean in, lifting the lid of the top box just enough to peek inside…

at rows of beautiful wrapped favor bags, each one tied with satin ribbon and topped with a handmade mickey mouse tag. but it wasn’t just the presentation– it was the contents. you could see the edges of coloring books, plush toys, puzzles, sticker sheets, and what looked like small wooden trains. everything was high-quality, thoughtful, and clearly chosen with care. your throat tightened. 

“oh my god…”

it had only been a little over twenty-four hours and he’d had all of this prepared.

the man chuckles next to you, breaking you from your spiraling thoughts. “mr. jackson wanted to make sure the kids had something special to take home.”

you couldn’t speak. couldn’t do anything but stare at the boxes, your vision blurring slightly as tears pricked at the corners of your eyes.

“yo, there’s more stuff?”

you turned to find marcus standing behind you with a dumbfounded look and can only bring yourself to nod in reply. when the man asks where he should put everything, marcus steps forward to grab one of the boxes and directs the man to follow him. as they walk off, you hear marcus grumbling– something about a ‘heavy ass box’ and ‘the hell did she find the money for this?’

you stand there in the parking lot for minutes after, one hand pressed to your chest, trying your hardest to process what was happening to your life.

by 1:50, the party favors were set up on a separate table, arranged in neat rows that immediately caught the attention of every kid who walked by. more guests had arrived– friends from khalil’s school, neighborhood kids, a few of your coworkers with their families, your own family members. the park was filling up, the air thick with laughter.

khalil still vibrated with energy, bouncing from group to group, showing off the one birthday present you’d let him open early and talking a mile a minute. at one point, he climbs onto one of the park benches, standing on his tiptoes to get a better view of the parking lot. his little hands pressed to his forehead like a visor, head swiveling left and right as he scanned every car that passed.

“boy, get–!” your grandmother starts, but khalil cuts her off.

“i’m looking for someone!” he shouts back, not moving an inch. you fix him with a look and a pointed “khalil”. he steps down immediately, shouting an apology before giggling and running back to his group of friends. 

by 2:15, the party is in full swing and you breathe a little easier.

kids run wild across the grass, their laughter echoing through the park as they chase each other around the trees. the tables were crowded with adults all talking, plates piled high with food in front of them. the boombox you’d set up earlier was playing a mix of motown and pop hits, the music blending seamlessly with the ambient noise of the party.

you’re sitting near your intermediate family when two cars pull in.

once again, sleek and black, with windows tinted so dark you couldn’t see inside. your stomach swoops and your heart stutters, because you know who's inside without needing to see it.

your mother leaned closer to you, squinting. “now who is that in that fancy car?”

you open your mouth. and close it immediately.

the driver’s side door of the first car opens, and out steps who you still believe is michael’s bodyguard, dressed in a dark suit. he steps around to the back door and it seems to open in slow motion, though it might just be your mind playing tricks on you. 

a black baseball cap appeared first, tilted just slightly to shade his face– curly hair falling around his shoulders. big hands grip the edge of the door as he hefts himself out. mother nature, the world, must love and cherish him, because he rises to his full height in the very middle of unfiltered sunlight– clouds above him overlapping and breaking perfectly. he looks angelic– dressed in a red long-sleeved button up, tucked into black slacks with a belt securely buckled around his waist. 

complete silence falls over the park and you cringe, waiting.

the first shout comes within a few seconds, “what the fuck?”

the rest trailing shortly behind: “bitch, is that michael jackson?!”, “oh my god–”, “that ain’t–! wait, that is–!”, “mama, that’s michael jackson–!“

the shouts erupted from every direction, voices overlapping in a cacophony of disbelief and pure, uncensored joy. adults jumped to their feet, hands flying to their mouths, pointing, grabbing each other’s arms. kids froze mid-run, their eyes going wide.

and khalil–

“MR. MICHAEL!” he shrieked, jumping up and down so hard his mickey ear felt cap flies off of his head. “mr. michael, you came! you really came!”

you stand up, though you’re not sure why. you’re positive there’s nothing you could do to calm everyone down. your brother must be the only other one quiet, and when you look at him you see it’s because he’s pre-occupied giving you a slack-jawed, wide-eyed look. you’d rub the fact that you were right in his face if your attention didn’t drift back to michael.

who’d, obviously, heard all of the chaos.

you could see it in the way his shoulders tensed, the way his head dipped slightly– and for a second you worry that this was a terrible idea, that your little event has already scared him away… but then he slowly looks up– his face holding the biggest, most breathtaking smile you’d ever seen. so wide and real and bright.

michael brings a hand up and gives a general, small and shy wave; then brings that same hand up to cover his face when the shouts get louder. you start your walk towards him, fully prepared to tell him to stay over there just until everyone’s initial shock wears off– especially your mom, who’d begun to loudly babble while twisting her body side-to-side and throwing her head back, intermittently shouting ‘lord!’ ‘oh good lord!’.

but you stop in your tracks when michael and his bodyguard walk to the car parked behind them and open each of the back doors. 

“this isn’t real…” bringing a hand up to cover your open mouth when fucking mickey mouse and donald duck step out. the kind you’d see at disney world, with the oversized heads and perfectly tailored outfits and the big, cartoonish gloves.

khalil is the first to dart across the park, shouting ‘no way, no way, no way!’ before he crashes into the legs of michael– who stumbles before he brings a hand down to pat khalil’s back, laughing. khalil moves onto mickey and donald, jumping and talking animatedly with his arms. every kid in the party makes it to them shortly after, a stampede of tiny bodies and high-pitched screams. some of them made a beeline for michael, shouting his name, reaching for his hands. but most of them ran straight for mickey and donald, their little faces lit up with the raw delight.

by the time the crowd of kids, michael, his bodyguard, and the characters in costume make it over to the party area, you still haven’t recovered. you can’t move, you’re not too sure if you’re breathing, and you can feel trembles throughout your whole body as you watch michael saunter your way– his smile wide and very proud of himself. 

the happiness on his face only grows when he finally comes to stand in front of you, his hands tucked into his pockets, head tilted just slightly as he speaks your name, “hi. you look–”

“michael, i…” you cut him off, your voice shaky. “am so… upset.”

his smile drops instantly.

“wait– what?” his brows burrow, genuine confusion flickering across his face. “why? did i– did i do something wrong?”

“i’ll never, ever, in a million years have the funds to repay you for this!” you whisper as you gesture openly around the two of you.

michael steps closer, shaking his head. “that isn’t why… i mean, i don’t expect–”

but before he can finish, your uncle appears out of nowhere to dap michael up, clamping a hand on his shoulder and pulling him away from you. “michael jackson!” he exclaims, “i’ll be damned. lemme get a picture with ‘ya, son.”

and just like that, he’s whisked away into the crowd, glancing back at you over his shoulder with an apologetic smile as your uncle drags him to where a small group of your family sits with multiple digital cameras. 

the party continues in a blur of segments–games, cake cutting, present opening– and through it all, michael tries.

god, does he try.

you’re refilling the drinks when he sidles up beside you, his hands clasped behind his back, his voice quiet. “hi. again. about what you said earlier–”

“mr. michael!” khalil’s voice cuts through. when you both turn, he’s waving a heavy-looking stick in the air– and when you look down there are three kids tugging on michael’s shirt-sleeve, begging him to come see the piñata.  he promises that he’ll be right back, but your family continues to have other plans for him.

a little later, you’re standing by the food table rearranging the trays, when he appears again.

in that sweet, soft tone of his, he starts, “i’m sorry, i’ve been tryin’ to make my way to you for the longest. are you busy–?”

“michael!” one of your cousins call out, waving him over. “group photo!”

he exhales slowly. he can’t say that he hates being so in demand, no. your family are all so funny, so down to earth and genuine, but there’s nothing he wants more than to just get to know you better.

you bite back a smile at the slight slouch in his shoulders as he walks away.

it happens again when you’re folding up empty chip bags. and again when you’re wiping down the tables. and again when you’re trying to find a way to keep khalil’s stubborn mickey ears attached to his head.

every single time, someone interrupts. an older auntie asking if he’s single. a kid wanting to play tag. hell, your grandmother at one point demands he sit beside her so she can “get a good look at him.” you watch from afar as your she calls someone with a polaroid over to get a picture of him for her.

and every single time, michael glances back at you with the same pitiful pout.

by the time khalil sits down to open his presents, the sun is starting to dip lower in the sky. for the first time, michael and his bodyguard–bill, you’d finally learned his name– stand undisturbed beside you. michael is so close that you can feel the heat radiating from his shoulder. 

khalil tears through wrapping paper with reckless enthusiasm, a growing pile of things you really didn’t have the apartment space for beside him. action figures, a new basketball, a new soccerball, a remote control car… your eyes started to cross trying to decipher it all.

he’s grinning so wide as he reaches for the last present.

it’s small. a tiny box wrapped in shimmering paper with a white bow on top. khalil’s little fingers fumble with the ribbon, a drunk uncle shouts “use ya teeth, kid!”, and when he finally gets it open, he goes completely still.

inside, nestled on a bed of plush cotton, is a mickey mouse pin. identical to the one from michael’s jacket; the one khalil had stared at with wide, wonder-filled eyes.

khalil opens his mouth, but only a choked sound comes out before his face crumbles. crocodile tears spill down his cheeks as he holds the pin to his chest and through his blubbering he says, voice breaking, “i love it.” a series of coos and 'aww's sound out through the crowd of people– your mother raising a hand to her chest as she cries with her grandbaby, their emotions entwined.

but you, knowing exactly where the pin is from, turn to look at michael. half of you wants to tear into him for overdoing something he didn’t need to do in the first place. half of you wants to sob because he’s made this day so very special for everyone around you.

before you can say anything, michael’s cheeks flush and he shakes his head quickly. “oh, no– i didn’t get that.” he gestures toward bill. “bill did.”

he walks away then. you blink, slowly turning to look at bill– who meets your gaze and, very deliberately, shakes his head.

no.

michael is crouching beside khalil when you glance back over, pulling him into a gentle hug as the boy sobs into his shoulder, still clutching the pin like it’s the most precious thing in the world.

“thank you, mr. michael,” khalil cries.

“happy birthday, khalil.” michael murmurs back.

you have to look away before you join your mother with your own emotional waterworks.

the park is nearly empty when the party winds down. families trickle out one by one, waving goodbye, thanking you for inviting them. the decorations sway gently in the breeze. the boombox is finally quiet. the sun is sinking low, painting the sky in shades of pink and orange.

and khalil is fast asleep on one of the benches, face peaceful, and his new mickey pin attached to the right side of his shirt. you stand a few feet away with michael, midst story.

“–michael, he put it everywhere. the whole bowl of popcorn. i’m talkin’ ceiling, couch, he’d snuck handfuls into the vcr–”

michael cuts you off with a loud burst of laughter. “inside the vcr?” he brings a hand up to cover his mouth.

you look at michael with a smile, but look away quickly when his eye contact starts to make you feel shy. “inside of it.” you confirm, shaking your head as you look at the ground. “kernels too.”

michael doubles over, his shoulders shaking. “how do you even–” he stops, composing himself. “how did you get it out?”

“i didn’t,” you exasperate. “it went straight to donations pile. i had to keep everything with an opening taped shut for two years straight. you don’t know real pain until you have to scoop jelly out of the keyholes on your door; or syrup out of your cd player.”

he loses it then– a full, echoing laugh that makes you laugh harder, and for a moment it’s just the two of you standing there in fading sunlight, cracking up over the absolute bullshit baby khalil put you through.

“i swear,” you say, wiping at the corner of your eye, “sometimes i think he’s trying to see how much i can take before my head rolls right off.”

“that must’ve been how my mother felt with my brothers and i.” he giggles to himself, “we used to do stuff like that all the time. my brother, marlon? he was the worst– stuck a peanut butter sandwich in my other brother, tito’s guitar, ‘cause he wanted to see what it sounded like.”

“well? what did it sound like?”

“oh, the same. but that smell after a few weeks? bad. tito about killed us. mother told tito off for almost killing us, and then almost killed us as well.”

you both crack up again. it feels so easy. so natural, it makes your heart ache.

“i can’t believe you had to deal with eight siblings. i only have two and i thought that was a lot.”

“it was…” he smiles faintly, as if wrapped in memory, “it was loud. all the time. but i wouldn’t trade it for the world.”

“yeah,” you murmur, glancing over at khalil. “i get that.”

there’s a comfortable silence as he helps you clear off the table of food– just the sound of the breeze and the gentle hum of traffic in the background.

and then it hits you.

“michael,” you start. his eyes find yours right away. “can you… give me an itemized list of what i owe you?”

“pardon?”

“the cake, cookies, party favors, mickey and donald…” you shake your head, overwhelmed. “i need to know what i owe you so i can start figuring out how to pay you back. might have to sell a kidney or a lung.”

it’s a joke, but not really.

michael looks at you for a long moment. then, very softly, “what would you need that list for?”

you blink. “what do you mean? i just–”

“those things were for the kids. so, you don’t need to repay me for anything.” he says simply.

“cut the technicalities, michael.”

“seriously.”

you narrow your eyes at the shit-eating grin he attempts to hide. “okay. fine.” you cross your arms and hold his eyes. “those were for the kids. what about those pastries you bought for ‘the boy's beautiful mom’?”

the flush floods his face instantly. he looks down, sheepishly, and now you’re the one grinning at him.

“oh boy… she told you i said that, huh?” michael rubs the back of his neck. “yeah… well, um.”

you wait, enjoying him being bashful a little too much. he clears his throat, bringing his eyes back up to yours. “i know the perfect way you could repay me.”

your heart skips a beat. “yeah? what’s that?”

he takes a breath.

and then, very quietly, earnestly, he says:

“let me get to know you better.”

-

taglist: @cannonindeez @iamsosexy2 @jusforbey @asahipoopoo @lanibuggg @feelingfaye @shutupzela @michaelswife-jackson @ripesinner @777mimsspace @daddytillerrr

[r3ady00rnot]

i paused my game to be here

jermajesty jackson x black!reader

summary: it’s well into the night and while you’re trying to sleep your boyfriend his preoccupied in his game.

warnings/content: a little cursing and jermajesty calls you “stinky”

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ🛸༄˖°.

the nighttime city skyline looked like golden glitter from the windows of your apartment. it was well into the night, the city backdrop serving as a nightlight. at the same time, you lay bundled up in bed in a light sleep.

your boyfriend, jermajesty, wasn’t on his side of the bed. he’d been preoccupied with his game, playing online with his brothers and friends.

“Just dropped yo ass!” he exclaimed loudly looking as his character successfully knocked his brothers off a platform.

you heard that from the bedroom, but didn’t pay it any mind knowing he got too caught up in the game from time to time. that was until he continued for another twenty minutes.

“got yo ass again!”

“you deadass playing as kirby!?”

“if i beat you again you buying me a new pc”

around fifty-five seconds later you were out of bed, marching towards jermajesty’s office/game room you opened the door.

of course, he didn’t notice, since he had his back turned to her with his headphones on.

you flicked the light on, brightening the room from just LED lights that lit it previously. instantly jermajesty turned in his chair.

he moved his headset. you looked at him with a confused expression.

“have you lost…your damn mind?” you asked.

he took a good look at the tiredness in your eyes. “i’m sorry stinky, I'll be quiet.”

you shook your head immediately. “uh uh, turn it off and go to bed.”

jermajesty blinked looking at the game then back to you. “stinky i’ll be quiet i swear.”

you shook your head again, pointing at his game console. “turn. it. off.”

knowing not to fight you on the matter he sighed putting the headphones back on his ear. “yall i gotta go my girl said i gotta get off.”

from the door you could hear muffled sounds of laughter and a part of you wanted to laugh too but you were too tired for that. you watched as jermajesty turned his game off and put his controller down before making his way to you.

turning the light off, you turned around and made your way back to your room. you crawled back into bed and watched jermajesty shed off the clothes he’d had on before getting in bed himself.

scooting back into his chest, you put his arm over your waist. “you had my brothers laughing at me.” he murmured into the crook of your neck.

you let out a tired snort. “do you want me to curse them out? they the ones that got you started.”

jermajesty lifted his head smiling goofily at you. “you gon curse them out, stinky?”

rolling your eyes you spoke. “go to bed jer.”

—idk this just gives jermajesty for some reason lol

⊹ ࣪ ˖

[r3ady00rnot]

surprise!

michael jackson x black!reader

summary: when your anniversary starts off with uncertainty, you wonder what could be wrong.

warnings/content: talks of infidelity and michael calls you “sweetness”

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ🛸༄˖°.

1825 days didn’t feel long at all.

It had officially been 1825 days, or 5 years, since you and michael had tied the knot. you could remember every moment leading up to it vividly.

you remember when michael first proposed, it was just a few hours after he finished his bad tour. what started as a candlelit dinner to celebrate the work he’d put in turned into a stroll around the beach that bleed into early the next morning, next thing you knew he was on one knee with a diamond and pearl ring in hand.

the wedding was just as memorable, it was small around 35 people total, happening just a year after the proposal. the wedding was held at home, though the home was on 2,700 acres. it was intimate, decorated to look like something straight out of a fantasy novel with green vines everywhere and orchids adding a touch of life. you remember crying a lot, michael sharing as many tears as you, and the wedding was commemorated with michael surprising you with a garden he'd planted near your favorite spot of the ranch and naming it after you.

and here you are now celebrating your 5th anniversary.

“do you know what today is?” you sang the familiar song skipping down the hall, coming to a stop when you saw michael.

michael looked up from the couch, house phone still in hand. “happy anniversary.” he replied.

you walked over to the couch plopping down next to him, leaning over to give him a quick peck on the lips.

he moved the phone from his ear and turned to you. “i have some important calls to make…do you want to go shopping?”

you furrowed your eyebrows at his tone, it was a little dismissive, not showing any signs of annoyance that he had to work on a day like this. but you understood he was a busy man.

you shook your head hesitantly “yeah.”

michael smiled gratefully, something you read a little differently. “i’ll see you later gorgeous.”

you looked at him for a good moment, trying to keep yourself calm but couldn’t help but feel a way about the moment did he really just brush you off?

standing you quickly made your way back down the hall and out the door. maybe retail therapy could calm you down.

it didn’t, the first hour into your shopping spree you were fine just convincing yourself that michael was busy. but while trying clothes on at ralph lauren your mind started to wander and think about how quickly he’d rushed you out of the house, didn’t even apologize for the inconvenience. however, all that could’ve been because he had a surprise waiting…or he could be cheating.

but he wasn’t reckless enough to cheat on your anniversary.

was he?

three hours later and eight shopping bags in hand, some from high-end stores and others from the basics like the gap when you arrived home. The house was quiet to the point where you could hear every creak in the floorboard. you dropped your bags off at the front door and slowly made your way around the house.

“michael!” you called out not gonna answer you made your way further into the house.

each step felt more like a horror movie than real life. walking into the living room you slowed a little getting a quick glimpse of michael. whose back was turned to you as he closed the door to the dining room swiftly.

he turned on his heels quickly facing you, putting his hands behind his back like a guilty kid. “i’m back” you said slowly walking to the couch.

“did you have fun?” michael asked crossing the room and leaning over the back of the couch to kiss your cheek.

“you can say that.” you glanced back at the dining room door. you turned your head to michael who’d walked around the couch to sit down.

“happy anniversary sweetness.” he took your hand kissing it. “what do you want to do today?” he asked.

you raised an eyebrow a little taken aback by the switch in his attitude, and whatever was behind that door was making you more curious.

“it depends.” you shrugged playing with his fingers before dropping his hand completely.

“what’s in the dining room?”

his eyes traveled to the door before looking back at you. “nothing” he said unconvincingly.

“hmm,” you pouted as you shook your head. “okay.” you threw your hands up before pushing yourself off the couch.

you made your way to the dining room door stopping before you could push it open. “is there still nothing on the other side?”

michael nodded.

taking it as a sign to push open the door you did so. in the matter of a millisecond shock hit you in your core, with a gasp you took a step back.

“do you know what today is? it’s our anniversary” the band tony! toni! toné! sang as they left the dining room coming into the living room.

from the couch michael bit back a smile before walking over to you. he’d slipped his arms around your waist. “do you like your gift?” he whispered in your ear as the three men continued to sing.

looking at him with wide eyes your mouth opened then closed not knowing what to say. “i—i—what?”

michael smiled proudly, enjoying the look on your face. “i’m sorry about how i acted this morning but your surprise,” he pointed at the group of relatives.

“was coming earlier than i expected and i needed to get you out of the house.”

the corners of your lips raised, feeling a little silly for how your mind wandered all day. but you couldn’t help being pleased with the gift and now the shopping spree since you used his card.

“michael i love it!” you squealed, turning to engulf him in a proper hug as the band continued to sing.

“i’m glad” he laughed leaning in to kiss you. “happy 5th anniversary sweetness.”

“happy 5th anniversary michael.”

—idk i’m truly obsessed with this song rn…also unrelated but why does everyone film jaafar so close???

[gravenoirr]

𝐃𝐈𝐕𝐀 𝐀𝐃𝐌𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐑

Michael jackson x wwe superstar! black reader

It's Friday and Michael was asked to watch his god son while his friend and wife have a night out. Like every Friday night, his son watches wwe smackdown and Michael couldn't help but feel in awe at the new women's champion.

i was also inspired by how Michael would just call celebrities hotel room or home. lol. if Michael wanted to talk to you, that request will be fulfilled. You were no exception.

Michael's god son and his other son Prince was in the living room watching tv getting ready for Friday Night Smackdown. This episode in particular will be more interesting due to the fact it was right after Wrestlemania. The two boys had their wrestle buddy toy plush in hand and snacks on the coffee table. "I don't know why you like Eddie so much. He cheats. That's not fair!" Prince said.

"Life's not fair. It's his gimmick. If your favorite wrestler can't beat his tactics then that's boohoo."

Prince stuck out his tongue in which Michael caught him in the act as he walked out from the kitchen bringing the boys their drinks. "Prince. Be nice."

"Applehead! You gonna watch with us!!"

"Yeah, I'll watch. I don't know much about wrestling but I can learn from you two." He said before sitting himself down on the couch. The boys were ecstatic. The first two matches had them captivated. Triple H vs The rock vs Stone Cold Steve Austin in a triple threat match for the Heavyweight championship.

Michael himself was definitely entertained and could understand why his sons loved this so much. The next match was Undertaker 'The american badass' vs Chris Jericho, which Michael remembered correctly, was Prince favorite wrestler. The episode had so many out of pocket moments which had Michael in a state of...how was some of this allowed on tv.

The art of the attitude era crossing over to ruthless aggression.

The show ran a little longer than expected and his two boys were too sleepy to even finish the show. He tucked them into bed and was in the process of cleaning up their wrestling toys and food crumbs that was left behind. The tv was on filling the rooms silence. He was about to turn the tv off that was until he saw there was one more match left on the card. The women's championship match.

Trish Stratus making her entrance with the belt in hand. Her entrance gear was all black with the glitter reflecting the camera. The arena going crazy for her as she made her way towards the ring. She showed the fans her success through the belt. Undefeated on the divas roster while having the title for 3 months.

This match was special. Not only for women but for the black woman in the industry. You were the first black female wrestler to be in a main event on smackdown fighting for the title you had your eyes set on for months.

Your theme boomed through the arena. The light show going wild flashing your signature colors. You looked like a living bratz doll by the way your wrestling gear looked. Your hair long and laid..thanks to your wig installer.

Michael felt winded. He felt his heart beating rather aggressively against his chest. He watched you strut down the ramp slowly taking off your entrance jacket. A fur coat. Your skin moisturized and beautifully brown. The men on the ramp wanting to touch you from behind the barricade. The camera pans to a random section of the arena showing posters showing support.

You got in the ring and gave an air kiss to the camera to whoever was watching at home. Michael...yes...Michael Jackson was one of those people watching.

The announcer announced their names, weight, and their hometowns. You, usually from the Monday night Raw roster your charisma and talent is much more aggressive than the divas on smackdown. The moment the bell rang signaling the start of the match, your years of training paying off to get that belt around your waist. All means necessary.

Michael watched you silently rooting for you to win. He was so in love with your athleticism and how quick you were to avoid hits from your opponent. Trish had been in the game a little longer than you but that wasn't gonna scare you. You both paddy cake each blow until you gave her one hit knocking her back to the corner of the ring.

This was perfect. You had the win right in your hand. You ran towards her getting yourself up on the third rope. You perfectly executed a hurricanerana turning it into a pin. You had your arms hooked around Trish's legs.

"1...2...3!"

The arena roared in chaos with cheers.

"Here's your winner, and new women's champion!"

Michael watched you take the title belt from the referee. You held the belt high in the air showing everyone and anyone who was watching. Near and far. The camera goes to Trish who was still on the floor appalled and upset. Michael couldn't be too loud, his boys were sleeping just down the hall. They just missed the highlight of the show but he couldn't complain too much. He enjoyed watching the match by himself.

The next morning, you were in your hotel room packing up the rest of your things. It still felt surreal to you seeing the championship belt sitting nicely on the other side of the bed. You were in a good mood. Nothing but pure happiness and bliss.

In the middle of putting your gear away, your hotel room phone rung. You stopped mid fold and went to answer it. "Hello?"

"Good morning, is this (name)?"

"Yes..." You said in a way that sounded unsure. Only because you knew that voice anywhere. You couldn't tell if it's real or fake but then again why would anyone prank call you.

"Thats wonderful, I finally got the right room." He chuckled. "Im Michael Jackson and I just wanna congratulate you for winning the championship. I was watching last night and I enjoyed every minute of every second."

His voice was so soft and genuine you couldn't believe your ears right now. You didn't even knew that Michael would even take the time out of his night to watch Smackdown. Especially a memorable moment in your career. "Oh god.."

You sat down on the bed. You nearly felt the room spin by how much emotion you were feeling. It was almost overwhelming. "Im sorry. I wasn't expecting, how did you, how...huh?!"

You began pinching your thigh and with each pinch came pain. You wasn't dreaming.

"I wanted to talk to you myself so I had my team get in touch with yours. I know it's a little rude but I really wanted to speak with you."

"No not rude at all. I'm honored Michael. These last few hours just keeps getting better and better."

You heard his sweet angelic laugh that was music to your ears. "I hope it's not short notice but I would love to meet you in person. I've been told your schedule is free until next friday."

Your schedule was in fact full but for Michael, you were willing to drop everything to meet a man like him. "Yes, I would be happy to meet you Michael-"

"Perfect..because I already have a car waiting for you outside to drop you off at the airport. I paid for everything so you don't have to worry about anything ok?"

You moved the curtain from the window to see a sleek black suv waiting. The driver holding a sign that probably had your name on it. You had never experienced this type of treatment before, but God knows, you should start getting used to it.

"Oh Michael, you didn't have to do this."

"I wanted to. Now, I must go and I can't wait to see you when you arrive at the ranch."

You didn't get a chance to say goodbye since the line went dead. You sat in a state of bewilderment just off staring into space. You could still hear his voice replaying over and over. Meeting Michael Jackson was probably more life changing than winning the championship title.

[smoothestcriminal]

I actually need more angst stories. And no, I'm not talking about "they live happily ever after" type shit. I'm talking about actual gut wrenching, sad, non-happy ending stories.

Writing spirits, please hear my wish!

[auriuex]

petition to stop filling the michael jackson x reader with actually bullshiii idgaf about jermajesty or the irrelevant tangents you’re going on that u slapped the tag onto. i came here for mj fanfiction and you’re not delivering. im struggling to find actual fics now🫥

[r3ady00rnot]

Supermodel

Michael Jackson x Black!reader

summary: when pictures of your boyfriend with his ex-wife tease you, you know know it’s time to leave.

_____________________________________

warnings: nothing major just angst :p and implied infidelity

Was it insecurity or was it the truth that things were coming to an end?

For a while, you’d try to mask the feelings you’d been experiencing.

hurt

jealousy

anger.

But how can you when your own boyfriend is spotted having the time of his life with his ex-wife?

Maybe you’d have been a little more mature and understanding if they’d had shared custody of children. But no children were in the picture, so why were they in each other’s lives again?

Why was he with his ex-wife and not you?

It seemed like common sense not to trust a global superstar.

But Michael made you feel special; in the beginning, everything was as good as it could be.

The start of the relationship was magical. The two of you met in odd fashion, Michael had been on his way to a charity event and his driver had cut you off, while you were on way to the same event to drop off some old toys your mother had found in the attic.

While it wasn’t your proudest moment you did give his driver the finger then asked if he was even licensed. That night Michael had found you himself and the two of you spent two hours talking about nonsense. At the end of the night, you walked away with his number and a feeling in your chest you couldn’t explain.

a normal girl had gotten the attention of michael fucking jackson and all you had to do was curse at his staff.

Every day felt like a fairytale, every day had stories you knew you’d tell your children one day when they ask you how you and Dad were when you were younger.

You thought Michael Jackson was the love of your life…and for a while, you thought you were his too.

Things weren’t like that anymore.

Michael wasn’t home yet, and you knew it was time to strike. Your sister and best friend had come to Neverland to help you finish this chapter of your life.

“Man, this place is gorgeous.” Jamie your sister said in awe, head up as she looked at every fixture the home had to offer.

You stared blankly at the door, “yeah.” you mumbled. trying to psyche yourself up.

Brooklyn, your best friend noticed putting a hand on your shoulder. “It’s for the better you know?” She gave you a comforting smile.

With a knowing frown, you nodded. “Yeah,” you huffed.

“It’s better to leave if I’m this insecure right?”

Jamie scoffed, not liking how you worded it. “Baby, it’s not insecurity, he shouldn’t be anywhere near her,” she said.

You closed your eyes, breathing through your nose and letting a shaky breath out of your mouth. She was right and you knew, though a small part of you wanted to believe maybe you were wrong.

But every time you tried to rationalize it your mind just kept going back to magazine covers that plastered their adventures on the cover. You couldn’t even go to the grocery store without being taunted by a picture of them too.

That was the last straw for you, you’d bought the magazine and asked for an envelope. In the car, you’d written a note on the envelope and stuck it to the front of the magazine with a grocery store sticker.

You shot your eyes open.

This was happening, you’ll deal with the heartbreak and grow, and learn that this was the right decision.

“Let’s get my stuff packed,” you stated looking at Jamie, then Brooklyn.

The determination in your voice, made Brooklyn and Jamie nod. You walked over to you and Michael’s shared bed and tossed them each a duffel bag. Carefully pulling out the magazine from one sitting it on the bed.

The way the packing felt, you’d think you were robbing the house. But you didn’t care if anything was folded and packed neatly. You had to go and you’ll deal with each mess as they came to you.

It felt like the longest 30 minutes of your life trying to fit the last two years of your life into three duffel bags. Everything felt like it was dragging and delaying itself, you’d pack your clothes then get a glimpse of a picture of you and Michael on a table, or an expensive gift he’d gotten you.

“Baby sis are you taking any of the dresses?” Jamie asked, poking her head out of the walk-in closet.

You walked to her, looking at the dresses Jamie had been running her fingers over. A pretty golden dress with thin straps.

He'd bought you that dress the second he heard that you preferred gold over silver.

It was a gorgeous dress, but the memory of him buying it for you tainted the dress forever.

“No” you finally answer.

Jamie's eyebrow raised. “You sure?”

You shook your head, Jamie mimicking your action. “Okay,” she said. “Then are we done?” she added.

You looked over to Brooklyn who'd been zipping the duffel bag she'd been giving.

This was it.

“Yeah,” you mumbled.

Jamie slung an arm over your shoulder pulling you close to comfort you. She pressed a kiss on the side of your head before giving you a small smile.

“Let's go then.” she encouraged you.

Every step to the door felt nerve-wracking, to the point where you couldn't open the door yourself, Brooklyn did it for you.

The moment the three of you took a step out of the room. A deep breath had been taken by you, looking at the person in front of you like you'd seen a ghost.

Michael.

He'd look at you, then his eyes travel down to the bags that you and your support system had been carrying.

“What's going on?” he finally spoke.

Brooklyn looked at Michael, eyebrows snapped together and eyes not showing any kindness.

“We’ll be in the car,” Brooklyn whispered, rubbing your shoulder before signaling Jamie to follow her.

Alone in the hallway with Michael now, your heart rate elevated. You didn't think he'd be back home so soon.

“I thought you were out of town until tomorrow,” you mumbled, unsure what the right thing was to say.

“I wanted to come home early,” he replied.

Michael looked at the bag in your hand again “What's going on?” he repeated.

You shrugged. “It’s not self-explanatory?” you asked.

He nodded, slightly annoyed by the comment and how casually you’d said it. “It’s definitely self-explanatory but why?”

You closed your eyes not expecting to have to explain yourself…the note was supposed to be the explanation.

“There’s a note on the bed” you said quietly trying to move past him.

He didn’t let that happen, quickly taking a step in the direction to block you.

“y/n can you just talk to me?” he sighed, putting his hands on your shoulder.

You closed your eyes shaking your head, you weren’t trying to get emotional but the thought of having to explain yourself to him was killing you.

“Michael there is a note.” You tried to explain through a shaky voice.

“I don't want a note y/n I want you to tell me what's going on.” he pushed.

You leaned on the picture-filled wall looking down at your shoes.

Just say it you said in your head.

“Why are there pictures of you and Lisa?”

When you finally looked up Michael had the stance of a guilty man. “It's not an affair,” he said.

“I didn't say that it was.” You crossed your arms.

“I asked why there are pictures of you and her together.”

“Were friends” you could feel the irritation begin to bubble up by just those two words.

when you didn’t respond he kept explaining. “i’m serious! there isn’t any foul play going on we’re just two friends that so happened to be together.”

there was that word again.

friends.

“No, that's your ex-wife.” you snapped straightening up.

“and there shouldn’t be any sort of picture of you with her especially when you were supposed to be out of town for business Michael."

michael lips straightened into a straight line. you looked at his face, trying to see if anything hid beneath the surface.

“okay she’s my ex-wife.” he nodded. But now you'd feel like he was patronizing you.

“Why didn't you ask me to come with you?” you asked. “Why bring your ex-wife and not your girlfriend who you share a bed with?” you pointed at yourself taking small steps towards him.

“God, do you know how embarrassing that is for me? To know someone I share a bed with is skipping and laughing with his ex-wife…his famous ex-wife to add insult to injury.” you groaned putting a hand on your head.

michael took a step closer to you, putting a hand out to comfort you.

you stepped back.

he kept his arm out for a second longer than dropped it, he knew you were pulling away.

“I'll stop seeing her.” he voice tight.

you shook your head, “no.” you said.

“no?”

“no” you said again, looking at him. “The damage is done, you’ve already been photographed with her. and if I stay…I'm going to always feel like I'm second best.”

the look in michael’s eyes, almost made yours water. he’d look defeated, not in a way that was replicating someone dragging him down. but in a way that showed that no matter what he said.

you’d already made your mind up.

“i can’t stay michael.” you stood your ground.

you moved to walked down the hallway again, this time he let you.

—not that i’m a messy hoe but sometimes i like to play into some mess 🤷🏾‍♀️🪐

[r3ady00rnot]

VERY MUCH FRUITY

[naity-sama]

Some words to use when writing things:

winking

clenching

pulsing

fluttering

contracting

twitching

sucking

quivering

pulsating

throbbing

beating

thumping

thudding

pounding

humming

palpitate

vibrate

grinding

crushing

hammering

lashing

knocking

driving

thrusting

pushing

force

injecting

filling

dilate

stretching

lingering

expanding

bouncing

reaming

elongate

enlarge

unfolding

yielding

sternly

firmly

tightly 

harshly

thoroughly

consistently

precision

accuracy

carefully

demanding

strictly

restriction

meticulously

scrupulously

rigorously

rim

edge

lip

circle

band

encircling

enclosing

surrounding

piercing

curl

lock

twist

coil

spiral

whorl

dip

wet

soak

madly

wildly

noisily

rowdily

rambunctiously

decadent

degenerate

immoral

indulgent

accept

take

invite

nook

indentation

niche

depression

indent

depress

delay

tossing

writhing

flailing

squirming

rolling

wriggling

wiggling

thrashing

struggling

grappling

striving

straining

[littlestsecret]

Appetite -  craving, demand, gluttony, greed, hunger, inclination, insatiable, longing, lust, passion, ravenousness, relish, taste, thirst, urge, voracity, weakness, willingness, yearning, ardor, dedication, desire, devotion, enthusiasm, excitement, fervor, horny, intensity, keenness, wholeheartedness, zeal

Arouse -  agitate, awaken, electrify, enliven, excite, entice, foment, goad, incite, inflame, instigate, kindle, provoke, rally, rouse, spark, stimulate, stir, thrill, waken, warm, whet, attract, charm, coax, fire up, fuel, heat up, lure, produce, stir up, tantalize, tease, tempt, thrum, torment, wind up, work up

Assault -  attack, advancing, aggressive, assailing, charging, incursion, inundated, invasion, offensive, onset, onslaught, overwhelmed, ruinous, tempestuous, strike, violation, ambush, assail, barrage, bombard, bombardment, crackdown, wound Beautiful -  admirable, alluring, angelic, appealing, bewitching, charming, dazzling, delicate, delightful, divine, elegant, enticing, exquisite, fascinating, gorgeous, graceful, grand, magnificent, marvelous, pleasing, radiant, ravishing, resplendent, splendid, stunning, sublime, attractive, beguiling, captivating, enchanting, engaging, enthralling, eye-catching, fetching, fine, fine-looking, good-looking, handsome, inviting, lovely, mesmeric, mesmerizing, pretty, rakish, refined, striking, tantalizing, tempting Brutal -  atrocious, barbarous, bloodthirsty, callous, cruel, feral, ferocious, hard, harsh, heartless, inhuman, merciless, murderous, pitiless, remorseless, rough, rude, ruthless, savage, severe, terrible, unmerciful, vicious, bestial, brute, brutish, cold-blooded, fierce, gory, nasty, rancorous, sadistic, uncompromising, unfeeling, unforgiving, unpitying, violent, wild Burly – able-bodied, athletic, beefy, big, brawny, broad-shouldered, bulky, dense, enormous, great, hard, hardy, hearty, heavily built, heavy, hefty, huge, husky, immense, large, massive, muscular, mighty, outsized, oversized, powerful, powerfully built, prodigious, robust, solid, stalwart, stocky, stout, strapping, strong, strongly built, sturdy, thick, thickset, tough, well-built, well-developed Carnal -  animalistic, bodily, impure, lascivious, lecherous, lewd, libidinous, licentious, lustful, physical, prurient, salacious, sensuous, voluptuous, vulgar, wanton, , coarse, crude, dirty, raunchy, rough, unclean Dangerous -  alarming, critical, fatal, formidable, impending, malignant, menacing, mortal, nasty, perilous, precarious, pressing, serious, terrible, threatening, treacherous, urgent, vulnerable, wicked, acute, damaging, deadly, death-defying, deathly, destructive, detrimental, explosive, grave, harmful, hazardous, injurious, lethal, life-threatening, noxious, poisonous, risky, severe, terrifying, toxic, unsafe, unstable, venomous Dark -  atrocious, corrupt, forbidding, foul, infernal, midnight, morbid, ominous, sinful, sinister, somber, threatening, twilight, vile, wicked, abject, alarming, appalling, baleful, bizarre, bleak, bloodcurdling, boding evil, chilling, cold, condemned, creepy, damned, daunting, demented, desolate, dire, dismal, disturbing, doomed, dour, dread, dreary, dusk, eerie, fear, fearsome, frightening, ghastly, ghostly, ghoulish, gloom, gloomy, grave, grim, grisly, gruesome, hair-raising, haunted, hideous, hopeless, horrendous, horrible, horrid, horrific, horrifying, horror, ill-fated, ill-omened, ill-starred, inauspicious, inhospitable, looming, lost, macabre, malice, malignant, menacing, murky, mysterious, night, panic, pessimistic, petrifying, scary, shadows, shadowy, shade, shady, shocking, soul-destroying, sour, spine-chilling, spine-tingling, strange, terrifying, uncanny, unearthly, unlucky, unnatural, unnerving, weird, wretched Delicious - enticing, exquisite, luscious, lush, rich, savory, sweet, tasty, tempting, appetizing, delectable, flavorsome, full of flavor, juicy, lip-smacking, mouth-watering, piquant, relish, ripe, salty, spicy, scrummy, scrumptious, succulent, tangy, tart, tasty, yummy, zesty Ecstasy -  delectation, delirium, elation, euphoria, fervor, frenzy, joy, rapture, transport, bliss, excitement, happiness, heaven, high, paradise, rhapsody, thrill, blissful, delighted, elated, extremely happy, in raptures (of delight), in seventh heaven, jubilant, on cloud nine, overexcited, overjoyed, rapturous, thrilled Ecstatic -  delirious, enraptured, euphoric, fervent, frenzied, joyous, transported, wild Erotic -  amatory, amorous, aphrodisiac, carnal, earthy, erogenous, fervid, filthy, hot, impassioned, lascivious, lecherous, lewd, raw, romantic, rousing, salacious, seductive, sensual, sexual, spicy, steamy, stimulating, suggestive, titillating, voluptuous, tantalizing Gasp -  catch of breath, choke, gulp, heave, inhale, pant, puff, snort, wheeze, huff, rasp, sharp intake of air, short of breath, struggle for breath, swallow, winded  Heated - ardent, avid, excited, fervent, fervid, fierce, fiery, frenzied, furious, impassioned, intense, passionate, raging, scalding, scorched, stormy, tempestuous, vehement, violent, ablaze, aflame, all-consuming, blazing, blistering, burning, crazed, explosive, febrile, feverish, fired up, flaming, flushed, frantic, hot, hot-blooded, impatient, incensed, maddening, obsessed, possessed, randy, searing, sizzling, smoldering, sweltering, torrid, turbulent, volatile, worked up, zealous Hunger -  appetite, ache, craving, gluttony, greed, longing, lust, mania, mouth-watering, ravenous, voracious, want, yearning, thirst Hungry -  avid, carnivorous, covetous, craving, eager, greedy, hungered, rapacious, ravenous, starved, unsatisfied, voracious, avaricious, desirous, famished, grasping, insatiable, keen, longing, predatory, ravening, starving, thirsty, wanting Intense -  forceful, severe, passionate, acute, agonizing, ardent, anxious, biting, bitter, burning, close, consuming, cutting, deep, eager, earnest, excessive, exquisite, extreme, fervent, fervid, fierce, forcible, great, harsh, impassioned, keen, marked, piercing, powerful, profound, severe, sharp, strong, vehement, violent, vivid, vigorous Liquid -  damp, cream, creamy, dripping, ichorous, juicy, moist, luscious, melted, moist, pulpy, sappy, soaking, solvent, sopping, succulent, viscous, wet / aqueous, broth, elixir, extract, flux, juice, liquor, nectar, sap, sauce, secretion, solution, vitae, awash, moisture, boggy, dewy, drenched, drip, drop, droplet, drowning, flood, flooded, flowing, fountain, jewel, leaky, milky, overflowing, saturated, slick, slippery, soaked, sodden, soggy, stream, swamp, tear, teardrop, torrent, waterlogged, watery, weeping Lithe - agile, lean, pliant, slight, spare, sinewy, slender, supple, deft, fit, flexible, lanky, leggy, limber, lissom, lissome, nimble, sinuous, skinny, sleek, slender, slim, svelte, trim, thin, willowy, wiry Moan - beef, cry, gripe, grouse, grumble, lament, lamentation, plaint, sob, wail, whine, bemoan, bewail, carp, deplore, grieve, gripe, grouse, grumble, keen, lament, sigh, sob, wail, whine, mewl Moving -  (exciting,) affecting, effective  arousing, awakening, breathless, dynamic, eloquent, emotional, emotive, expressive, fecund, far-out, felt in gut, grabbed by, gripping, heartbreaking, heartrending, impelling, impressive, inspirational, meaningful, mind-bending, mind-blowing, motivating, persuasive, poignant, propelling, provoking, quickening, rallying, rousing, significant, stimulating, simulative, stirring, stunning, touching, awe-inspiring, energizing, exhilarating, fascinating, heart pounding, heart stopping, inspiring, riveting, thrilling Need -  compulsion, demand, desperate, devoir, extremity, impatient longing, must, urge, urgency / desire, appetite, avid, burn, craving, eagerness, fascination, greed, hunger, insatiable, longing, lust, taste, thirst, voracious, want, yearning, ache, addiction, aspiration, desire, fever, fixation, hankering, hope, impulse, inclination, infatuation, itch, obsession, passion, pining, wish, yen Pain -  ache, afflict, affliction, agony, agonize, anguish, bite, burn, chafe, distress, fever, grief, hurt, inflame, laceration, misery, pang, punish, sting, suffering, tenderness, throb, throe, torment, torture, smart Painful -  aching, agonizing, arduous, awful, biting, burning, caustic, dire, distressing, dreadful, excruciating, extreme, grievous, inflamed, piercing, raw, sensitive, severe, sharp, tender, terrible, throbbing, tormenting, angry, bleeding, bloody, bruised, cutting, hurting, injured, irritated, prickly, skinned, smarting, sore, stinging, unbearable, uncomfortable, upsetting, wounded Perverted -  aberrant, abnormal, corrupt, debased, debauched, defiling, depraved, deviant, monstrous, tainted, twisted, vicious, warped, wicked, abhorrent, base, decadent, degenerate, degrading, dirty, disgusting, dissipated, dissolute, distasteful, hedonistic, immodest, immoral, indecent, indulgent, licentious, nasty, profligate, repellent, repugnant, repulsive, revolting, shameful, shameless, sickening, sinful, smutty, sordid, unscrupulous, vile  Pleasurable -  charming, gratifying, luscious, satisfying, savory, agreeable, delicious, delightful, enjoyable, nice, pleasant, pleasing, soothing, succulent Pleasure -  bliss, delight, gluttony, gratification, relish, satisfaction, thrill, adventure, amusement, buzz, contentment, delight, desire, ecstasy, enjoyment, excitement, fun, happiness, harmony, heaven, joy, kick, liking, paradise, seventh heaven  Rapacious-  avaricious, ferocious, furious, greedy, predatory, ravening, ravenous, savage, voracious, aggressive, gluttonous, grasping, insatiable, marauding, plundering Rapture -  bliss, ecstasy, elation, exaltation, glory, gratification, passion, pleasure, floating, unbridled joy Rigid -  adamant, austere, definite, determined, exact, firm, hard, rigorous, solid, stern, uncompromising, unrelenting, unyielding, concrete, fixed, harsh, immovable, inflexible, obstinate, resolute, resolved, severe, steadfast, steady, stiff, strong, strict, stubborn, taut, tense, tight, tough, unbending, unchangeable, unwavering Sudden -  abrupt, accelerated, acute, fast, flashing, fleeting, hasty, headlong, hurried, immediate, impetuous, impulsive, quick, quickening, rapid, rash, rushing, swift, brash, brisk, brusque, instant, instantaneous, out of the blue, reckless, rushed, sharp, spontaneous, urgent, without warning Thrust -  (forward) advance, drive, forge, impetus, impulsion, lunge, momentum, onslaught, poke, pressure, prod, propulsion, punch, push, shove, power, proceed, progress, propel (push hard) assail, assault, attack, bear down, buck, drive, force, heave, impale, impel, jab, lunge, plunge, press, pound, prod, ram, shove, stab, transfix, urge, bang, burrow, cram, gouge, jam, pierce, punch, slam, spear, spike, stick Thunder-struck - amazed, astonished, aghast, astounded, awestruck, confounded, dazed, dazed, dismayed, overwhelmed, shocked, staggered, startled, stunned, gob-smacked, bewildered, dumbfounded, flabbergasted, horrified, incredulous, surprised, taken aback  Torment - agony, anguish, hurt, misery, pain, punishment, suffering, afflict, angst, conflict, distress, grief, heartache, misfortune, nightmare, persecute, plague, sorrow, strife, tease, test, trial, tribulation, torture, turmoil, vex, woe Touch -  (physical) - blow, brush, caress, collide, come together, contact, converge, crash, cuddle, embrace, feel, feel up, finger, fondle, frisk, glance, glide, graze, grope, handle, hit, hug, impact, join, junction, kiss, lick, line, manipulate, march, massage, meet, nudge, palm, partake, pat, paw, peck, pet, pinch, probe, push, reach, rub, scratch, skim, slide, smooth, strike, stroke, suck, sweep, tag, tap, taste, thumb, tickle, tip, touching, toy, bite, bump, burrow, buss, bury, circle, claw, clean, clutch, cover, creep, crush, cup, curl, delve, dig, drag, draw, ease, edge, fiddle with, flick, flit, fumble, grind, grip, grub, hold, huddle, knead, lap, lave, lay a hand on, maneuver, manhandle, mash, mold, muzzle, neck, nestle, nibble, nip, nuzzle, outline, play, polish, press, pull, rasp, ravish, ream, rim, run, scoop, scrabble, scrape, scrub, shave, shift, shunt, skate, slip, slither, smack, snake, snuggle, soothe, spank, splay, spread, squeeze, stretch, swipe, tangle, tease, thump, tongue, trace, trail, tunnel twiddle, twirl, twist, tug, work, wrap  (mental) - communicate, examine, inspect, perception, scrutinize Wet - bathe, bleed, burst, cascade, course, cover, cream, damp, dampen, deluge, dip, douse, drench, dribble, drip, drizzle, drool, drop, drown, dunk, erupt, flood, flow, gush, immerse, issue, jet, leach, leak, moisten, ooze, overflow, permeate, plunge, pour, rain, rinse, run, salivate, saturate, secrete, seep, shower, shoot, slaver, slobber, slop, slosh, sluice, spill, soak, souse, spew, spit, splash, splatter, spout, spray, sprinkle, spurt, squirt, steep, stream, submerge, surge, swab, swamp, swill, swim, trickle, wash, water Wicked -  abominable, amoral, atrocious, awful, base, barbarous, dangerous, debased, depraved, distressing, dreadful, evil, fearful, fiendish, fierce, foul, heartless, hazardous, heinous, immoral, indecent, intense, mean, nasty, naughty, nefarious, offensive, profane, scandalous, severe, shameful, shameless, sinful, terrible, unholy, vicious, vile, villainous, wayward, bad, criminal, cruel, deplorable, despicable, devious, ill-intentioned, impious, impish, iniquitous, irreverent, loathsome, Machiavellian, mad, malevolent, malicious, merciless, mischievous, monstrous, perverse, ruthless, spiteful, uncaring, unkind, unscrupulous, vindictive, virulent, wretched Writhe -  agonize, bend, jerk, recoil, lurch, plunge, slither, squirm, struggle, suffer, thrash, thresh, twist, wiggle, wriggle, angle, arc, bow, buck, coil, contort, convulse, curl, curve, fidget, fight, flex, go into spasm, grind, heave, jiggle, jolt, kick, rear, reel, ripple, resist, roll, lash, lash out, screw up, shake, shift, slide, spasm, stir, strain, stretch, surge, swell, swivel, thrust, turn violently, tussle, twitch, undulate, warp, worm, wrench, wrestle, yank 

[aghostnotaguardian-archive]

//MY BROTHERS AND SISTERS - HERE IS THE ANSWER TO THE PROBLEM OF FINDING THAT RIGHT WORD!!!!!

[shades-of-orange]

I’ve reblogged it before, and I’ll reblog it again

[drabblily]

again….reblogging to save a writers life 🤒

[r3ady00rnot]

Yeah I’m reblogging…what about it

[shelbys-advice-blog]

I want to live by myself when I move out of my parent's place but I'm really afraid of money problems? I'm afraid that the only place I can afford will be in the ghetto and it'll all be torn apart and I'll only be allowed to eat one granola bar a week. I'm really stressing out about this. I don't know anything about after school life. I don't know anything about paying bills or how to buy an apartment and it's really scaring me. is there anything you know that can help me?

HI darling,

I’ve actually got a super wonderful masterpost for you to check out:

Home

what the hell is a mortgage?

first apartment essentials checklist

how to care for cacti and succulents

the care and keeping of plants

Getting an apartment

Money

earn rewards by taking polls

how to coupon

what to do when you can’t pay your bills

see if you’re paying too much for your cell phone bill

how to save money

How to Balance a Check Book

How to do Your Own Taxes

Health

how to take care of yourself when you’re sick

things to bring to a doctor’s appointment

how to get free therapy

what to expect from your first gynecologist appointment

how to make a doctor’s appointment

how to pick a health insurance plan

how to avoid a hangover

a list of stress relievers

how to remove a splinter

Emergency

what to do if you get pulled over by a cop

a list of hotlines in a crisis

things to keep in your car in case of an emergency

how to do the heimlich maneuver

Job

time management

create a resume

find the right career

how to pick a major

how to avoid a hangover

how to interview for a job

how to stop procrastinating

How to write cover letters

Travel

ULTIMATE PACKING LIST

Traveling for Cheap

Travel Accessories

The Best Way to Pack a Suitcase

How To Read A Map

How to Apply For A Passport

How to Make A Travel Budget

Better You

read the news

leave your childhood traumas behind

how to quit smoking

how to knit

how to stop biting your nails

how to stop procrastinating

how to stop skipping breakfast

how to stop micromanaging

how to stop avoiding asking for help

how to stop swearing constantly

how to stop being a pushover

learn another language

how to improve your self-esteem

how to sew

learn how to embroider

how to love yourself

100 tips for life

Apartments/Houses/Moving

Moving Out and Getting an Apartment, Part 1: Are You Sure? (The Responsible One)

Moving Out and Getting an Apartment, Part 2: Finding the Damn Apartment (The Responsible One)

Moving Out and Getting an Apartment, Part 3: Questions to Ask about the Damn Apartment (The Responsible One)

Moving Out and Getting an Apartment, Part 4: Packing and Moving All of Your Shit (The Responsible One)

How to Protect Your Home Against Break-Ins (The Responsible One)

Education

How to Find a Fucking College (The Sudden Adult)

How to Find Some Fucking Money for College (The Sudden Adult)

What to Do When You Can’t Afford Your #1 Post-Secondary School (The Sudden Adult)

Stop Shitting on Community College Kids (Why Community College is Fucking Awesome) (The Responsible One)

How to Ask for a Recommendation Letter (The Responsible One)

How to Choose a College Major (The Sudden Adult)

Finances

How to Write a Goddamn Check (The Responsible One)

How to Convince Credit Companies You’re Not a Worthless Bag of Shit (The Responsible One)

Debit vs Credit (The Responsible One)

What to Do if Your Wallet is Stolen/Lost (The Sudden Adult)

Budgeting 101 (The Responsible One)

Important Tax Links to Know (The Responsible One)

How to Choose a Bank Without Screwing Yourself (The Responsible One)

Job Hunting

How to Write a Resume Like a Boss (The Responsible One)

How to Write a Cover Letter Someone Will Actually Read (The Responsible One)

How to Handle a Phone Interview without Fucking Up (The Responsible One)

10 Sites to Start Your Job Search (The Responsible One)

Life Skills

Staying in Touch with Friends/Family (The Sudden Adult)

Bar Etiquette (The Sudden Adult)

What to Do After a Car Accident (The Sudden Adult)

Grow Up and Buy Your Own Groceries (The Responsible One)

How to Survive Plane Trips (The Sudden Adult)

How to Make a List of Goals (The Responsible One)

How to Stop Whining and Make a Damn Appointment (The Responsible One)

Miscellaneous

What to Expect from the Hell that is Jury Duty (The Responsible One)

Relationships

Marriage: What the Fuck Does It Mean and How the Hell Do I Know When I’m Ready? (Guest post - The Northwest Adult)

How Fucked Are You for Moving In with Your Significant Other: An Interview with an Actual Real-Life Couple Living Together™ (mintypineapple  and catastrofries)

Travel & Vehicles

How to Winterize Your Piece of Shit Vehicle (The Responsible One)

How to Make Public Transportation Your Bitch (The Responsible One)

Other Blog Features

Apps for Asshats

Harsh Truths & Bitter Reminders

Asks I’ll Probably Need to Refer People to Later

Apartments (or Life Skills) - How Not to Live in Filth (The Sudden Adult)

Finances - Tax Basics (The Responsible One)

Important Documents - How to Get a Copy of Your Birth Certificate (The Responsible One)

Important Documents - How to Get a Replacement ID (The Responsible One)

Health - How to Deal with a Chemical Burn (The Responsible One)

Job Hunting - List of Jobs Based on Social Interaction Levels (The Sudden Adult)

Job Hunting - How to Avoid Falling into a Pit of Despair While Job Hunting (The Responsible One)

Job Hunting - Questions to Ask in an Interview (The Responsible One)

Life Skills - First-Time Flying Tips (The Sudden Adult)

Life Skills - How to Ask a Good Question (The Responsible One)

Life Skills - Reasons to Take a Foreign Language (The Responsible One)

Life Skills - Opening a Bar Tab (The Sudden Adult)

Relationships - Long Distance Relationships: How to Stay in Contact (The Responsible One)

Adult Cheat Sheet:

what to do if your pet gets lost

removing stains from your carpet

how to know if you’re eligible for food stamps

throwing a dinner party

i’m pregnant, now what?

first aid tools to keep in your house

how to keep a clean kitchen

learning how to become independent from your parents

job interview tips

opening your first bank account

what to do if you lose your wallet

tips for cheap furniture

easy ways to cut your spending

selecting the right tires for your car

taking out your first loan

picking out the right credit card

how to get out of parking tickets

how to fix a leaky faucet

get all of your news in one place

getting rid of mice & rats in your house

when to go to the e.r.

buying your first home

how to buy your first stocks

guide to brewing coffee

first apartment essentials checklist

coping with a job you hate

30 books to read before you’re 30

what’s the deal with retirement?

difference between insurances

Once you’ve looked over all those cool links, I have some general advice for you on how you can have some sort of support system going for you:

Reasons to move out of home

You may decide to leave home for many different reasons, including:

wishing to live independently

location difficulties – for example, the need to move closer to university

conflict with your parents

being asked to leave by your parents.

Issues to consider when moving out of home

It’s common to be a little unsure when you make a decision like leaving home. You may choose to move, but find that you face problems you didn’t anticipate, such as:

Unreadiness – you may find you are not quite ready to handle all the responsibilities.

Money worries – bills including rent, utilities like gas and electricity and the cost of groceries may catch you by surprise, especially if you are used to your parents providing for everything. Debt may become an issue.

Flatmate problems – issues such as paying bills on time, sharing housework equally, friends who never pay board, but stay anyway, and lifestyle incompatibilities (such as a non-drug-user flatting with a drug user) may result in hostilities and arguments.

Your parents may be worried

Think about how your parents may be feeling and talk with them if they are worried about you. Most parents want their children to be happy and independent, but they might be concerned about a lot of different things. For example:

They may worry that you are not ready.

They may be sad because they will miss you.

They may think you shouldn’t leave home until you are married or have bought a house.

They may be concerned about the people you have chosen to live with.

Reassure your parents that you will keep in touch and visit regularly. Try to leave on a positive note. Hopefully, they are happy about your plans and support your decision.

Tips for a successful move

Tips include:

Don’t make a rash decision – consider the situation carefully. Are you ready to live independently? Do you make enough money to support yourself? Are you moving out for the right reasons?

Draw up a realistic budget – don’t forget to include ‘hidden’ expenses such as the property’s security deposit or bond (usually four weeks’ rent), connection fees for utilities, and home and contents insurance.

Communicate – avoid misunderstandings, hostilities and arguments by talking openly and respectfully about your concerns with flatmates and parents. Make sure you’re open to their point of view too – getting along is a two-way street.

Keep in touch – talk to your parents about regular home visits: for example, having Sunday night dinner together every week.

Work out acceptable behaviour – if your parents don’t like your flatmate(s), find out why. It is usually the behaviour rather than the person that causes offence (for example, swearing or smoking). Out of respect for your parents, ask your flatmate(s) to be on their best behaviour when your parents visit and do the same for them.

Ask for help – if things are becoming difficult, don’t be too proud to ask your parents for help. They have a lot of life experience.

If your family home does not provide support

Not everyone who leaves home can return home or ask their parents for help in times of trouble. If you have been thrown out of home or left home to escape abuse or conflict, you may be too young or unprepared to cope.

If you are a fostered child, you will have to leave the state-care system when you turn 18, but you may not be ready to make the sudden transition to independence.

If you need support, help is available from a range of community and government organisations. Assistance includes emergency accommodation and food vouchers. If you can’t call your parents or foster parents, call one of the associations below for information, advice and assistance.

Where to get help

Your doctor

Kids Helpline Tel. [phone]

Lifeline Tel. 13 11 44

Home Ground Services Tel. [phone]

Relationships Australia Tel. [phone]

Centrelink Crisis or Special Help Tel. 13 28 50

Tenants Union of Victoria Tel. [phone]

Things to remember

Try to solve any problems before you leave home. Don’t leave because of a fight or other family difficulty if you can possibly avoid it.

Draw up a realistic budget that includes ‘hidden’ expenses, such as bond, connection fees for utilities, and home and contents insurance.

Remember that you can get help from a range of community and government organizations. 

(source)

Keep me updated? xx

[brihann-deactivated20220622]

Reblogging for myself

[bridgyrose]

reblogging for those that follow me that may be starting to move out

[r3ady00rnot]

Reblogging for my sake