#mj

[fuckyeahchinesefashion]

Three yaks dance in Lhasa city (cr 情满拉萨，吉吉)(If you do not reside long-term in a high-altitude environment, please avoid intense physical activity at high altitudes, as it may trigger altitude sickness.)

[lady-in-your-life]

[tenaciousmoneymuffinzine]

Comparing Haymitch and Katniss' narrative styles is so funny to me because he's a yapper and she's a gatekeeper. He drops more lore on D12 in the first two chapters of SOTR than she does in the entire trilogy.

Haymitch is like "Yeah, so this person is related to this person who's related to this person and things are this way because of this and this thing actually came from here and this person is actually my best friend and also here's this extra tidbit of random info cause all my lore dropping comes with it's own additional bonus content and all my unnecessary commentary."

And Katniss is over here like "Tf do I care for if y'all know all the lore of District 12? I'm talking about my beautiful husband's beautiful eyelashes."

[mustangb3byy]

˖ ⭑ disneyland | michael jackson ˖ ⭑

pairing: thriller m.jackson x fem!reader

synopsis: while on your honeymoon with michael to disneyland, things get took a little too far.

warnings: smut, breaking a bed, lowkey rough sex, oral (fem receiving.)

a/n: i know that this didn’t happen in michael’s thriller era, but for my mental health and ovulation, it did.

the sun had set over disneyland, casting a warm glow over the magical kingdom as you and michael—now husband and wife—had made your way back to your luxurious hotel room. the day had been filled with laughter, cotton candy, and endless rides.

michael had kicked his shoes off by the door, letting out a contented sigh as he loosened his tie. the suite was breathtaking—floor-to-floor ceiling windows overlooking the sparking lights of the city, a king sized bed draped in silk sheets, and rose petals scattered across the marble bathroom floor. he turned to you with that boyish grin, his dark eyes sparking with mischief.

michael approached you slowly, his hands reaching out to gently frame your face as he leaned in for a soft kiss, his lips were warm and tender. pulling back slightly, he whispered against your lips, “mrs. jackson…”

you couldn’t help but smile at the way his voice wrapped around your new title. it was surreal to be married to michael jackson, but in moments like this, he was just your husband—your loving, playful husband. you playfully bit his bottom lip softly, “mr. jackson,” you teased back.

he chucked softly at that, the sound sending familiar shivers down your spine. “come here,” he murmured, guiding you backward toward the bed. his fingers deftly worked at the zip of your dress as he backed you up, until you both landed on the plush mattress.

you giggled breathlessly, “michael, you’re so impatient.”

“i’ve been patient all day!” he protested with a laugh, nuzzling into your neck. “we’ve been surrounded by kids and mickey mouse all day. i just want to be alone with my wife.” his hands slid up your thighs, pushing your dress higher.

you gasped as his fingers brushed against against the lace of your panties, your head falling back against the pillows. “well, you have me all to yourself now,” you breathed out, your fingers tangling in his curly hair. the room filled with the sound of your hushed whispers and gentle touches.

michael wasted no time in shedding his shirt, revealing his soft skin that you knew so well. he hovered over you, pressing open-mouthed kisses along your collarbone and down the valley between your breasts. the atmosphere shifted from playful to heavy with desire, the scent of roses and your mingled colognes filling the air.

you arched your back, pulling him closer to you. his breath was hot against your skin as he unclasped your bra, his lips immediately finding your nipple. you moaned softly, threading your fingers through his thick curls while he lavished attention on each breast, his tongue making lazy circles around your hardened peaks.

michael’s hands trailed down your sides, gripping your hips as he moved down your body, pulling your panties off with a swift tug. he spread your legs wide, settling his broad shoulders between them. his first languid lick had you gripping the sheets, your hips lifting off the bed.

“michael…” you whimpered, your nails digging into his shoulders as his tongue worked expertly between your thighs. he looked up at you through those dark lashes, a wicked glint in his eyes. “you taste so sweet, baby,” he murmured against your slick folds before diving back in, his tongue swirling around your clit. your breath hitched, your thighs trembling against his head.

unable to take the teasing any longer, you reached down and tugged at his waistband, freeing his length. he groaned appreciatively at your eager touch, stroking himself slowly as he watched you writhe beneath him. “i need you inside me, please,” you pleaded, your voice thick with desires michael smirked, positioning himself between your trembling thighs. “patience, mrs. jackson.”

he teased your entrance with the head of his cock, rubbing himself against you but not pushing in. he lovers how you squirmed and whimpered beneath him, your nails scratching his back. “say please again,” he whispered with a smirk, loving how desperate you sounded for him.

“please, baby,” you gasped out, your legs spreading wider to give him better access. “i need you so bad…please.” michael finally granted your wish, pushing into your tight heat with one slow, torturously delicious stroke. both of you cried out as you became one, the intimacy of the moment washing over you even more than the pleasure.

he began moving then, slow at first, deep thrusts made the bed springs squeak with each one. his forehead pressed against yours, eyes closed as he lost himself in the rhythm. “you feel so good,” he groaned against yours lips, his pace quickening as your walls clenched around him. “my wife…”

you clawed at his back, urging him on. michael obliged, his movements becoming more intense and passionate as he clung to you. the headboard of the bed began to hit the wall with a rhythmic thudding sound that matched their hurried breathing and muffled moans. he shifted his angle slightly, hitting that spot inside you that made your eyes roll back.

“right there, right fucking there,” you cried out, your voice getting louder with each thrust. michael covered your mouth with his to muffle the sounds, kissing you deeply as he drove into you harder, the bed breaking loudly beneath you both.

the sounds of your passionate lovemaking filled the room—skin slapping against skin, the wet sounds of his cock thrusting into your dripping pussy, the loud squeaks of the bed springs—michael reached down and grabbed your leg, throwing it over his shoulder to go even deeper.

you arched your back as he hit that spot inside you repeatedly, your nails digging into his shoulders hard enough to leave marks. the bed was now shaking violently against the wall with each powerful thrust. michael’s breath came in ragged gasps against your neck as he whispered dirty words only you could hear.

“i’m close,” you whimpered, your walls clenching around him tightly. michael groaned deeply, his pace becoming erratic as he felt your orgasm approaching. “come for me, baby,” he commanded, his voice rough with desire. “let me feel you.” his thrusts became harder, faster, completely losing control as the bed grained under your combined weight.

you shattered beneath him, your back arching off the bed as waves of pleasure crashed through you. your scream was muffled by his shoulder as you clenched around him uncontrollably. the climax triggered something in michael—he buried himself deep, his thrusts becoming brutal.

a sound then echoed through the suite like a gunshot. both of you froze mid-thrust as the wooden bed frame splintered beneath you, the middle collapsing inward. you both tumbled to the floor in a tangle of limbs, michael landing on top of you with a startled yelp.

silence stretched between you for a heartbeat before michael burst into surprised laughter against your neck.

“i can’t believe—“ he laughed between gasps, still inside you despite now being on the floor. “did we just break the bed?” his eyes were bright with amusement, dimples appearing as he grinned down at you. you were too breathless to scold him, still trembling from your orgasm as he lazily thrust just once more.

you burst into laughter despite still being in complete shock from what just happened, your chest heaving with spent breaths “that’s because you lost control completely, michael!” you managed to say, running your fingers along his jaw. michael kissed you softly, not moving from where he was buried inside you. “worth it,” he murmured against your lips, flexing his hips slowly as sparks ignited between you again.

you both looked over at the broken bed frame and started giggling like teenagers. michael slowly pulled out of me, both of you wincing slightly at the sensitivity. he lay on his back on the carpet, pulling you against his chest.

“you know,” he said thoughtfully, running his fingers through your hair as you curled up on his chest, “they say your honeymoon is supposed to be romantic and perfect. but i think i prefer our version—broken bed and great sex.”

you giggled against his skin, tracing lazy patterns on his chest. “most couples just break a glass of something. we took out the whole damn bed frame.” michael chuckled, the sound vibrating against your cheek. “that’s because you’re fully mine now. i can be as wild as i want.” he pressed a kiss to your forehead, his arm tightening around you.

the laughter eventually died down, replaced by comfortable silence as you both lay tangled on the floor. michael traced lazy patterns on your hip, his breathing slowly returned to normal.

“so…” you murmured, looking up at him with a tired smile. “do you think we should call the front desk orrr?”

michael groaned dramatically, covering his face with one hand. “we’re definitely getting charged for that,” he muttered, though he couldn’t keep the laugh out of his voice. “though i’m not complaining.” he pressed a kiss to your temple, his hand sliding down to squeeze your ass. “worth every penny.”

you snorted, poking his ribs. “you’re the one with the money, mr. jackson.” you joked.

[captaingrnde]

after all ꒰১ ໒꒱ michael jackson

offthewall!michael x reader

summary: you accidentally walk in on what seems to be your boyfriend calling you “clingy”, leading to you avoiding him for a week. michael basically falls apart

content: miscommunication/misunderstanding, hurt/comfort, fluff in the end guys!! i cant deal with sad michael :((

word count: around 2.5k

a/n: YES i got inspiration to make this from after all by jimmy osmond! i love that song lol ok anyways enjoy the fic bye

It was a lazy Sunday afternoon. 

The kind where everything moves slower and no ones in a rush to be anywhere. 

You knew that michael had rehearsal earlier in the day and was probably eating lunch with his family given that you had spoken on the phone with him the night before. 

Oh how you were so in love with him. 

Even with Michael's busy schedule, he always found some way to make time for you. Whether it was hours spent on the phone after a long day or quiet afternoons together at home, you had become his comfort just as much as he had become yours. 

The two of you were constantly on the phone which is why you knew he was finishing up some of his work right around this time. 

Because of this, you decided to head down to Hayvenhurst. Maybe you could have lunch with him, steal a few hours of his afternoon, and have some much needed time with your oh so loving boyfriend. 

When you finally reached his house, you let yourself in with the key Michael insisted you have.

“I want you to know you’re welcome here anytime, baby” “Come over whenever you want. Don’t even worry about knocking.”

“Are you sure, Michael? I wouldn't want to intrude-”

“Of course I’m sure,” “You could never intrude.”

A small smile had tugged at his lips as he squeezed your hand.

“I’m always gonna want you here with me.”

And he meant it.

Atleast you thought he did.

That was why you never hesitated now when you walked through those doors.

You could hear the laughs of some of the brothers in the kitchen so you made your way there assuming thats where you would find your boyfriend. 

And as you were about to step into the kitchen you heard your name.

You stopped.

Not because you were trying to listen.

But Michael’s voice caught your attention before you even had the chance to announce yourself.

“She’s just…. really clingy sometimes.”

Your smile slowly faded.

Clingy.

The word sat heavy in your chest in a way you didn’t expect. You weren’t clingy, were you? I mean sure you did love spending all your free time with Michael and sure, you checked in on him throughout the day but you assumed he liked it too, right?

Apparently not. 

So you quietly turned around and drove home before you could even hear what he had to say next.

Normally, you would have called Michael as soon as you got home. 

But your phone stayed untouched on your nightstand by your bed. 

You set your things down, changed into something more comfortable, and sat on the edge of your bed for longer than you meant to.

It was silly.

You knew that.

But the word kept replaying in your mind.

Clingy.

A small tear slipped down your cheek before you even realized you were crying and you stayed like that for awhile.

It wasn’t until the next day that michael finally decided to call you.

You still answered, but you weren’t as eager to fill the silence afterward.

“Hello?”

“Baby!” He sounded so excited, why was he so excited?

His voice immediately softened something in you.

“Hi, Michael.” There was a small pause on the other end of the line, and even though you couldn’t see him, you could already imagine the way his brows furrow slightly when something was bothering him.

“You okay?” The question made your fingers tighten slightly around your phone. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

It came out too quickly.

“I’m just tired,” you added, trying to make it sound more believable. Another quiet moment passed. Normally, neither of you ever struggled to find something to say. There was always another reason to keep the conversation going.

“You’re quiet,” he finally said.

“I’m just tired.” you reemphasized.

Michael hummed, clearly not completely convinced, but he didn’t push.“You’re not coming over today?”

You looked down at your hands. “I don’t know. I figured you were probably tired.”

“I am tired,” Michael admitted, a small laugh slipping into his voice. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to see you.”

“..”

“Baby…”

You could hear the concern in his voice, and that almost made it harder.

“I’m okay, Michael,” you said quickly. “Really. I think I’m just gonna rest today.”

Normally, Michael would have asked what was wrong and kept asking until you finally opened up. But something about the way you said it made him hesitate, leaving him unsure whether he should push or give you the space you seemed to be asking for.

“You sure you don’t want me to come by?” “I’m sure.”

A pause.

“Okay.” The disappointment in his voice was small, but you still noticed it.

“I’ll call you later, okay?” he said. “Okay.”

Another silence followed, one that felt too long for two people who were usually so comfortable with each other.

“Alright, baby. Get some rest.”

“Bye, Michael.” You hung up before he could say anything else and for a moment, you just stared at the phone in your hand.

The rest of your days during the week consisted of you and Michael basically playing cat and mouse.

He would call, like he always did, but you would let the phone ring a few extra times before finally answering. The conversations were never long anymore, your replies careful and excuses ready whenever there was a chance he might ask what had changed. 

Michael noticed.

Eventually, he started coming by your house, sometimes with flowers or something small he thought you would like, hoping you would open the door and tell him what was wrong. But every time, you found yourself staying quiet, pretending you weren’t home until he finally left.

You knew you were avoiding him.

You also knew you didn’t really know how else to handle the hurt you were carrying.

Mike on the other hand, had spent the entire week trying to convince himself that he was overthinking it.

That maybe you really were just tired. Maybe you were busy. Maybe there was some simple explanation for why your voice sounded different every time he called and why you suddenly seemed like you were always finding a reason not to see him.

But the more days that passed, the harder it became to believe that.

By the end of the week, it had become impossible for Michael to convince himself that everything was fine.

He tried throwing himself into work the way he always did. Dance rehearsals, recording sessions, meetings. Normally, they were enough to keep his mind occupied.

This time, they weren't.

His thoughts always seemed to find their way back to you.

He replayed your conversations over and over, searching for something he might have missed. Had he forgotten something important? Had he said something carelessly? Was he working too much? He couldn't think of a single reason why the person who he revolved his days to be around suddenly couldn't bear to look at him.

His brothers noticed too.

"You alright?" Marlon asked one afternoon as the two of them sat around the kitchen island.

Michael looked up from the plate he had barely touched.

"Yeah."

Marlon raised an eyebrow.

"You don't sound too sure."

Michael sighed quietly, bringing his hands up to cover his face. "I think... I think something's wrong."

"What happened?"

"I don't know."

That was the part that bothered him most.

"I keep asking her if she's okay, and she says she is, but she barely answers my calls anymore. When she does, she's off the phone in five minutes." He looked down at the table, "I went by her apartment twice this week."

"And?"

"She didn't answer."

A silence filled the room.

"I don't think she's mad at me," Michael admitted after a moment. "If she was mad, she'd tell me. She always tells me… she’s just, distant."

Marlon frowned.

"So what are you gonna do?"

Michael didn't answer right away.

After a long moment, he looked up.

"I'm going back."

"And if she still doesn't answer?"

He stood from the table, ready to ask Bill to take him to what was naturally his second home.

"Then I'll keep trying til’ she does."

────୨ৎ────

The knock came just after lunch.

You didn't have to look through the window to know who it was. For a long moment you stared at the front door while the house remained completely silent around you.

 Another knock.

Gentler this time.

You closed your eyes for a second before letting out a quiet breath and reaching for the doorknob. When the door opened, Michael was standing exactly where you expected him to be.

He looked tired.

Not the kind of tired that came from rehearsals or long nights in the studio, but the kind that settled behind someone's eyes after they had spent too many nights wondering what they had done wrong.

His expression softened the moment he saw you.

"...Hi sweetheart."

"Hi."

Neither of you moved.

"I, um..." Michael glanced down for a second before holding out the small bouquet he'd been carrying. "These are for you."

You hesitated before taking them.

"Thank you."

"Can I come in?"

You stepped aside without saying a word.

Now he stood awkwardly in the middle of your living room, unsure if he should sit down or keep standing.

You placed the flowers on the counter and folded your arms loosely across yourself.

Michael looked down for a moment, his fingers brushing over the edge of his sleeve before he finally looked back at you.

"I don't really know where to start.. I just know that something's different."

The words were softer than you expected.

"I've been trying to figure it out all week, and I keep thinking maybe I did something wrong. Maybe I said something, or maybe I haven't been making enough time for you, or maybe..." He paused, letting out a quiet breath as he shook his head. "I don't know. I keep going over everything, but I can't find anything."

You looked away.

Michael noticed.

He always noticed.

"I miss you," he admitted. "And I know that probably sounds so stupid because it's only been a week, but it feels like you've been pulling away from me for so much longer than that."

"I didn't want to bother you."

Michael's eyebrows pulled together.

"Bother me?"

You swallowed.

"I just thought maybe you needed some space."

The confusion on his face only grew.

"Space from you?"

You didn't answer.

The silence told him more than words did.

Michael took a small step closer, his hands coming up to cup your jawline.

"Baby, why would you think that?"

You looked at him, trying to find the right words.

"I heard you."

Michael went still.

"What?"

"At your house Michael."

The room suddenly felt much quieter.

"I wasn't trying to listen," you rushed to explain. "I was just coming over for lunch, and I heard you talking with your brothers."

Michael's expression shifted, confusion slowly replacing itself with realization. "What did you hear?" he says your name softly.

You hesitated.

"I heard you say I was clingy."

For a moment, Michael didn't say anything.

Then his face softened.

"Oh, mama."

The way he said it almost made it harder.

"I thought..." Your voice caught slightly. "I thought I was too much for you."

Michael immediately shook his head.

"No."

"No, no, that's not what I meant."

He pulled your head close to his, making sure you were looking at him, his expression filled with regret.

"Y/n, you didn't hear the rest of it."

You frowned slightly.

"The rest?"

Michael nodded.

"I was talking to my brothers because I was trying to explain how much I love having you around. I was telling them that you're always here, that you always want to spend time with me, and I was laughing because I realized I'm the exact same way."

A small, sad smile crossed his face. "I said you were clingy because I love that about you."

You stared at him. "I love that you call me after a long day. I love that you come over so we can watch movies together. I love that I get to know all the little things about your life because you want to tell me."

His voice softened.

"I didn't mean clingy like it was a bad thing."

You looked away, feeling the weight of the misunderstanding finally start to lift.

"I thought you were getting tired of me."

Michael's expression changed immediately. "Sweetheart, I spent this entire week thinking you were leaving me."

The honesty in his voice made you really look at him.

"I thought maybe you had finally realized that being with me is too much. I thought maybe I was asking too much from you, that with the album and my career.. It was getting too intense for you."

You stared at him for a moment, your heart aching at the thought that he had spent the entire week carrying that fear by himself.

“Michael,” you said softly.

His eyes lifted back to yours.

“I wasn’t leaving you.”

The words came out immediately, because you needed him to hear them.

“I wasn’t thinking about ending anything. I was just hurt and I thought I was giving you what you wanted. I just misunderstood you. I should’ve talked to you instead of disappearing, i’m sorry.”

Michael looked down at your intertwined hands, his thumb brushing over yours.

“I missed you.”

A small smile tugged at your lips.

“I missed you too.”

“Really?”

You almost laughed.

“Mikey, I spent the whole week trying not to call you. Do you know how hard that was?”

That finally got a real smile out of him.

“I had a feeling.”

You rolled your eyes softly.

For the first time in days, you both looked completely at ease.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you too.” you repeated back again.

And finally, after a week of missed calls and avoiding each other, you closed the space between you.

The kiss was soft, like both of you were making sure this was real. But it didn’t take long for the relief of having each other back to settle in.

A week without him had felt much longer than it should have.

When you pulled away, Michael kept his arms around your waist, holding you close like he was making up for every moment he spent thinking he was losing you.

“I really missed this,” he murmured.

You smiled against him.

“I did too.”

“No more secretly disappearing because you think I need space.”

You laughed. “Okay.”

“Good,” he said, pulling you closer. “Because I was starting to think my girlfriend was trying to break up with me without telling me.”

“Michael,” you giggled harder this time.

“I’m just saying,” he teased. “Very rude way to find out.”

a/n: OKAY would yall believe me if I said I sat down for like 8 hours today trying to finish this bc i did! im like actually proud of myself lol like omg especially w my adhd too like wow im amazing but anyways lets just ignore any grammer mistakes here bc im too lazy to fix them rn

[visualsbyaina]

MICHAEL JACKSON IN COME TOGETHER - MV (1988) (I had to make that third gif, I just couldn't hold myself, blame me i guess)

[jeahamkrle]

We don't talk enough about how FINE he was in the Leave Me Alone mv