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none of you were saying shit when a harry styles fanfic became a movie series and saying michael didn't consent like it isn't well documented how he was actively involved in fan clubs about himself, where he would happily engage with his fans and was found giggling and kicking his feet, reading fanfic about himself. people in his inner circle have said he never had an issue with it, he enjoyed the attention.

there was a whole website dedicated to fanfiction specifically written about him. people acting like he lived in the dark ages and wasn't alive for the Internet, so dumb. please focus on your own faves and leave us alone. my god. you ever think you keep getting recommended michael fanfic because you keep engaging in it?

you knew michael loved you. that much was a given, considering everything he'd bought you since you first met, all the kisses he'd given you, how he admired you with the kids, and, of course, the toe-curling, tantalizing sex.

god, you could write poetry about the sex.

but seriously, you knew he loved you. his answers during this interview don't clue you in on something new; they just reaffirm something you'd already known, experienced, and appreciated.

"so, michael," the interviewer, a young brunette with glasses, starts, "could you tell us more about your thought process for this album? was there anything on your mind, any piece of inspiration, that stood out? that kept coming back to you?"

"yes." michael smiles immediately at the question, eager to reply. as he sits up, he glances over to his left, where you sit. poised, refined, his. "my wife. she served as the focal point for a lot of the songs."

the interviewer chuckles, "let me guess, '2000 watts'?"

"'2000 watts', 'butterflies', 'break of dawn'," he lists, nodding his head, "a lot of the songs, really. it's more her album than mine."

a smile dances along your lips as you playfully nudge him. "stop that, it's your album, michael."

"baby," he laughs, the sound filling the room around you both. the scene between you two is entirely domestic, a glimpse into your profound and intimate marriage. truly, your affections make the set feel less like set and more like a home. it almost feels as if this isn't an interview at all. almost.

"so it's dedicated to her, then?" the interviewer prompts, adjusting her glasses further up the bridge of her nose.

"yes," he says firmly, "yes, it's dedicated to my wife."

"well, she is certainly as beautiful as the songs on the album," the young woman replies, glancing over at you following the compliment. the studio audience breaks out in quiet applause and agreement, a sudden reminder that you're actually on tv.

you offer a smile back, keeping composure even as you feel your cheeks grow warm. to be loved so deeply in front of all these people... you gently reach down to hold michael's hand, fingers interlacing.

"beautiful and smart," michael corrects the woman, "the most perfect woman in the world..." he pauses, his expression growing sheepish before he adds, "and she's all mine. i just had to sing about it."

now, you're downright heated. literally, you can feel your face burning from the attention and love you're receiving. it takes everything in you not to look away or laugh off your own nerves. instead, you lightly squeeze his hand, a "thank you" and "quit it, you're flustering me!" all at once.

clearly moved, the interviewer claps softly at michael's answer. slowly, the audience joins in, soon drowning the studio in noise. "the perfect husband, ladies and gentleman," the woman finally says, gesturing at michael before moving her hand to gesture towards you, "and the perfect wife. america's— maybe even the world's— favorite marriage."

you and michael both share a light chuckle at that, your eyes meeting as you both soak in the admiration of the audience and the interviewer. he leans over, pecking your lips, his grin growing tenfold afterwards. "thank you, everyone," he says, returning his gaze to the brunette and everyone else clapping, "thank you."

"yes, thank you," you join in, waving towards the people seated around the studio's stage, "thank you all so much for your support."

"i'm sure the audience agrees with me when i say we all wish nothing but the best for you two," the interviewer concludes before clasping her hands together, "i think that's all time we had for this interview! thank you both so so much for coming onto the show, it was an honor to speak with you both."

once the broadcast had fully ended, you stood, brushing yourself off and turning towards your husband. he catches you by your waist, snaking an arm around your backside and leaning over to kiss your temple. as he guides you offstage, he hums. "'as beautiful as the songs on the album'... that was real nice of her to say, wasn't it? but it's not true, you know." purposefully, michael pauses there for dramatic effect, waiting until your eyebrows furrow in slight impatience before continuing on. "you're more beautiful than anything i could ever sing."

corny, really, but it gets a smile out of you anyways. "thank you, michael," you reply, shaking your head and trying to stifle your growing grin.

looking back i fear you might have wanted a studio session fic but my mind ventured elsewhere LOL... i hope u enjoyed anyways! loved writing this fluffy piece :) many men will claim to be wife guys but i know in my heart michael is an actual wife guy. he's just so proud to call you his wife!