‘ full time muse .
𝘀𝗵𝗲. 𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗲𝗻. 𝗺𝘂𝘀𝗶𝗰𝗽𝗵𝗶𝗹𝗲. 𝗻𝗶𝗴𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗮𝗻-𝗶𝘁𝗮𝗹𝗶𝗮𝗻. 𝘀𝗮𝗴𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗮𝗿𝗶𝘂𝘀 𝗽𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗰𝗲𝘀𝘀. 𝗮𝗺𝗮𝘁𝗲𝘂𝗿 𝘄𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗲𝗿. 𝗳𝗮𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗼𝗻. 𝗱𝗮𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗿𝗼𝘂𝘀 𝗮𝗹𝗯𝘂𝗺 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗻.

JVL
h

oozey mess

styofa doing anything
will byers stan first human second
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
taylor price

Peter Solarz
Jules of Nature

Kaledo Art
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tumblr dot com

@theartofmadeline
art blog(derogatory)
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⁂
trying on a metaphor

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@neverstreett
‘ full time muse .
𝘀𝗵𝗲. 𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗲𝗻. 𝗺𝘂𝘀𝗶𝗰𝗽𝗵𝗶𝗹𝗲. 𝗻𝗶𝗴𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗮𝗻-𝗶𝘁𝗮𝗹𝗶𝗮𝗻. 𝘀𝗮𝗴𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗮𝗿𝗶𝘂𝘀 𝗽𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗰𝗲𝘀𝘀. 𝗮𝗺𝗮𝘁𝗲𝘂𝗿 𝘄𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗲𝗿. 𝗳𝗮𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗼𝗻. 𝗱𝗮𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗿𝗼𝘂𝘀 𝗮𝗹𝗯𝘂𝗺 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗻.

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"Armand has always been good." (Assad Zaman, 2026)
assad being armand's #1 defender
AMC's The Vampire Lestat (2026), Teaser | Assad Zaman as Armand
two baddies
TELL me these photos don't scream brat tamer. THE LOOK ON HIS FACE oh my god i can hear it now.
"oh?" "is that so?" "say that again for me?" "i didn't quite hear you."
the vampire armand loves a bratty little slut to tame - he gets sooo cocky, lets you run your pretty little mouth and sass him again and again, lets the slight annoyance build up in his gut until you make him snap, he knows your boastful little remarks mean nothing, and if he wanted to he could have you on your knees in seconds.
loves reading that little pang of fear sprouting in your chest, he smells the slight tinge of arousal as he leans in and asks you to repeat yourself - danger in his words that you know he means.
the immediate obviousness of the power dynamic when it's tested is his favorite thing. gripping your jaw painfully, tilting his head with that devilishly perilous smile that tells you everything you need to know about who it is that's in charge, and why it's not you.
"you'd be wise to not speak to me like that again, dear."

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Just read more on Ola's backstory and found out she LOVED Disneyland, I have to write her and Mike going there, Omg!!!
Look at her!! Michael probably would have liked going to Disneyland with her if he knew :(
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀welcome to gorjuse.
this blog is mostly celebrity fanfiction, imagines, and oneshots with the occasional ramble, playlist, or reblog of something i thought was pretty.
i write for whoever i'm currently obsessed with, so expect this blog to be a little all over the place.
requests: open masterlist coming soon ♡
♡
no offense to the mature era michael writers…
but angel face was not an alpha. baby, that man was a yearner. he would've rather made love than fuck.
with love,
gorjuse.
PRIVATE SCREENING (mj imagine) ― 🎥
badangerous!michaeljackson x fem!reader
setting: november 1989, neverland ranch
synopsis: because you and michael usually can't go out for date night, he surprises you with a private screening of disney's latest film, the little mermaid, at neverland's home theater.
genre: fluff, slice of life
wc: 1.2k
note: also published on wattpad (@/hotstreet) in my imagines book, dreamers ! ⊹ ࣪ ˖
Disney has just released their latest animated film, The Little Mermaid. There had been very modest and minimal promotion, but when you discovered it, you told your boyfriend, Michael, that you wished to see it with him. This, unfortunately, is not a possibility because of his global fame and good standing. Whenever he goes out with false aspirations for a private adventure out on the town, there's nowhere or way for him to hide because of how recognizable his gait, build, and voice is. Especially his laugh. That unrestrained, buoyant, and obnoxiously loud laugh, so specific to him, gives Michael away every time.
However, because you're his girl, he wants to grant your request. Perhaps not in the way you had originally desired and expressed to him, but grant it nonetheless. So, at Bill's wise suggestion, he capitalized on that two-edged, global fame and good standing that usually keeps your date nights out of populated locations, and pulled a string or two.
Michael skillfully managed to convince the Walt Disney company to benevolently provide him with a copy of the film on a VHS tape, so the two of you can have a private screening in Neverland's home theater. After all, he has garnered them much attention in the past and is an avid Disney connoisseur, so this was really the least they could do.
You've just gotten home from an evening appointment at the salon, which Michael insisted Bill drive you to and from. Although you have your own place, you spend most of your time at the ranch with Michael and practically live there. The clothes, shoes, and accessories pertaining to your personal style appropriating a portion of his closet, your snacks of choice stowed away in his kitchen, and your hair products and cosmetics put away in his bathroom like easter eggs all left bold, undeniable clues of you.
Since the Bad World Tour ended a few months back, he's made it a point to be more available for you. During that time, your relationship had suffered much abuse at the hands of incompatible schedules, time differences, delays, missed phone calls, minimal meetings, and petty arguments fueled by high stress and sleepless nights, which would subsequently lead to him ignoring you.
He has always avoided confrontation.
But, now that he's home, you both wordlessly purposed to rebuild all that had been crushed like sandcastles, and this small, but meaningful gesture of a movie night is one of those efforts.
Michael had been tinkering in his home studio while you were away, but now that he sees you peek into the room and knows you've returned, he sets his work aside to spend a comfortably quiet evening in with you. "Hi, baby," A smile blooms on his makeup-free face as he steps out of the studio, already in pajamas, and pulls the door shut behind him, meeting you in the foyer of the building that also housed his private theater and arcade.
You had a feeling you would find him here.
"Like it?" You ask as he approaches you, referring to your hair. "Yeah, 's nice. It looks real nice." He compliments, getting a good look at the style and gently handling it with his nimble fingers. "Kathy did a good job." Michael remarks in regards to your trusted stylist. He absentmindedly bites his velvety bottom lip, preoccupied with your hair now. You chuckle at his intense focus, placing a kiss on his cheek and eliciting a soft, slightly bashful laugh from him.
He gives you a gentle peck on your lips, hands coming to rest on your upper arms, "I've got a surprise for you." You give him a hesitantly curious look, "A surprise? For what?" He chortles at your uncertainty, "Date night, remember?" Michael takes your hand, "Come. I'll show you. 'S in the theater."
As he leads you a few feet to the door of the cinema, he changes his mind and stops. "Actually, let's get you in pajamas first. You wanna be comfortable." You follow his lead, skeptical but trusting enough as he turns towards the exit. A passive, but genuine smile finds permanent residence on his lips. "Are you hungry?" He asks as the both of you walk to the main house. "There's some enchiladas in the kitchen. Akasha made 'em." He explains. Akasha Richmond was his private chef during the Bad tour, who still cooks for Michael on occasion.
Before you can reply, he pipes up again, "Y'know what, I'll jus' get you a plate. And if you don't want it, I'll eat it." He quirks his brows and you chuckle while shaking your head. It isn't until you make it inside the house that he lets go of your hand. "Meet me in the theater when you're done changin'." Instructs Michael, and then the two of you split off in separate directions.
Back in the mainly empty, dimly-lit auditorium, you find him sitting close to the front. He has a blanket, your favorite drink, and a warmed plate of red enchiladas. "What are we watching?" You ask, coming to sit beside him. "You'll see." He replies, giving you the blanket. He goes up to the projector, which was connected to the VHS player encasing the exclusive, one-of-a-kind and specially requested tape. Michael presses play and promptly trots back to his spot, right beside you. You share the blanket with him, curious as to which film it is. Initially, you expect Peter Pan out of habit, but then recollect that Michael called it a "surprise," meaning it must be something new.
He watches you more than the screen, anticipating a reaction with a knowing smile on his face. "What is this?" You inquire, at a loss as you study Disney's signature, opening frame. Michael's amused smile expands a fraction, "Jus' keep watchin'." As the film begins, you silently study the first, nautical scene—an old-timey ship out at sea, with singing sailors and a dashing prince. A small, wonderful gasp passes from your lips, an inkling developing within you. Could it be? But, how could it be? The other part of you admonishes your doubt, knowing that after all, it is Michael.
He can do many extraordinary things the majority can't.
"This is The Little Mermaid, isn't it?" You realize, looking at him. He nods, chortling, "Yeah. I asked 'em to send me a copy." He then sheepishly adds, "I guess I should also confess that it was Bill's idea…." You smile, kissing him, "You're so sweet. I'll have to tell 'im thank you. I can't believe they sent it to you…. But, at the same time, you are Michael Jackson, so I guess that counts for something." Michael's heart soars at your approval, satisfied that you are satisfied. "Since we got the tape, you can watch it whenever you want. Figure you'll probably wanna see it a couple o' times."
"Oh, I'm gonna play the hell out of this thing." You remark, making him chuckle. "I'm gonna memorize this whole script, know all the songs… you're gonna be sick of me." You tell him. "Oh, boy. The whole thing? What have I done? You're gonna be beltin' it all around the house." He jests, an instinctive grin brightening his countenance in the dark environment.
Yet in this moment, within that brilliant mind of his, he questions how he could possibly become sick of you, when just the prospect of his baby singing Disney songs through the halls like a princess, or quoting an applicable line from the film during whatever moment you later find yourselves in, is already so charming?
michael jackson as stack from sinners
i know he would’ve absolutely loved this movie and i wish he would’ve been around to see it
“There are legends of people born with the gift of making music so true, it can pierce the veil between life and death. Conjuring spirits from the past... and the future. This gift can bring healing to their communities, but it also attracts evil.”

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♡ — audition
@ dangerous era!michael x female reader
summary: you and michael broke up over two years ago, but he's the biggest star in the world so you can't escape him. you get a call about auditioning for a music video, but you're not told the music video is for... in the closet themes: angst, withholding the full truth, ploy to get back together author's note: reposted from my wattpad & ao3. part 2: in the closet
OUUU I LOVED THIS ONEEE 😍😍😍😛
♡ — audition
@ dangerous era!michael x female reader
summary: you and michael broke up over two years ago, but he's the biggest star in the world so you can't escape him. you get a call about auditioning for a music video, but you're not told the music video is for... in the closet themes: angst, withholding the full truth, ploy to get back together author's note: reposted from my wattpad & ao3. part 2: in the closet
i feel like a clingy dog whenever i reblog 3 different works from the same writer
and then they post to stop spam interacting so you start feeling guilty 🪼
bro my biggest fear is my favorite blk author secretly being yt
HAWTSTREET’S INTRODUCTION — 🎧
hii!! ⋆˚꩜。
i’m mims, and i’ve been an mjfic writer on and off for approx. four years! this blog is dedicated to one-shots, imagines, yapping, book promo, and everything jackson related. none of my fics will be posted here unless that’s something y’all are interested in. my wattpad user is @/hotstreet and i ONLY post my books there. anything of mine outside of that and this page was stolen.
i write fluff, angst, and suggestive material, but never full-blown smut. in my works, michael is always famous. my only au’s are post!2009 and maybe something really different here and there. i’m open to requests, but i can’t guarantee a delivery! all my literature is for fem readers unless requested otherwise.
my literary posts will be irregular, but i’ll be posting and reposting other jackson family related things quite often!
my dms are open—just don’t be weird. basic (and random) info about me and my interests can be found in my bio!
thanx for joining me in “dreaming my life away!”
much love,
mims xx ㅤ
honorable mentions: @gorjuse, @king-mila, @encinostreet, and @neverstreett!! check my girls out.

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hello neighbour ────୨୧──── hayvenhurst, encino 1979
── part one of three
wc: 3.7k
coupling: michael jackson x fem!reader
era: off the wall
summary: after multiple invasive glances from his bedroom window, michael finds himself crushing on the girl next door.
warnings: !fluff with a sprinkle of smut just to start off hehe, first encounters, Michael is 22, reader is 21, may include sexual innuendos, mentions of masturbation, fascination, tension, mild privacy invasion, innocent!michael, summertime, separated into two pov's,
a/n: I had an itch for something otw based, so here we go. I also intend to make this a 3-part series, so I hope y'all are slowburn enjoyers!! also peep the new layout eek
𑣲masterlist/taglist
𝗬𝗼𝘂
The sun burnt your exposed back as you bent down, trimming one of your rose bushes in the front garden of your house in your favourite red bikini top. Your exceptionally large house. You've just finished college at 21, currently staying with your parents till you find your feet. You were a Yale student due to your family's incomprehensible passed-down wealth, which explains why they decided to purchase a lot in one of the most expensive suburban neighbourhoods in Encino 22 years ago. You've never been much of a gardener, but the blazing sunlight and the large unused acre of plain greenery in front of your house seemed to be the answer to your tedium.
You paused midway through trimming, your shears hanging loosely in your hand as you squinted across the gates separating your property from the estate next door.
For 5 years, the house had been empty. Not abandoned, just empty. The mansion was Tuscan & beautiful, the lot itself was the most expensive one in Encino. You were good friends with the previous owners, a young married couple and their only child. You were sad to see them move on. Though, every now & then you'd see a wealthy family come & visit it, only to disappear when they realised how much it cost. Alas, you were a quiet girl who liked the silence & you'd definitely grown used to it these past 5 years.
You watch a moving truck reverse into the driveway, flashing amber lights. The beeping loud enough to draw attention to anyone nearby; yeah, someone’s definitely moving in.
Your mom steps out the front door onto the porch, shielding herself from the blistering sun with her hand.
“Oh my god, someone movin’ in?” She semi-shouts, looking over the gates on her tiptoes.
“Gotta be, why would there be a truck parked outside otherwise?” You say.
You don’t know where your dad is right now, probably doesn’t care enough.
You stand up straight, placing your shears down on the top of the bush momentarily while you stare intently at the truck.
The loading guy jumps out, pulling up the back door. The trunk is loaded with tons of miscellaneous furniture, you instantly knew it had to be a large family moving in. Not to mention everything looked expensive in that trunk.
All of a sudden, your attention is caught by a chic blue Rolls-Royce appearing from a corner at the end of the road, revving into the driveway of the lot.
You squint harder, your hand shielding yourself from the sun as you trying to figure out who’s inside the car before anyone actually comes out. A few moments later, you see what looks like a mother & father step out from either side of the car. Off the bat, they have a classy demeanour which didn’t surprise you. The father looks tense & uptight as he slams the car door shut. You brace yourself mentally, knowing you’ll probably end up having to meet him one day.
You were just about to go back to trimming your rose bushes & mind your business when you notice a substantially large group of young boys come out from the car in your peripheral. You turn to look at them. They all looked the same, large neat afros, dressed urbane, their skin complexion deep & so rich the sun casts a beautiful glow.
They looked magical, & strangely familiar.
You try to think about where you’ve seen them from, you don’t watch much TV these days, but the days you did you can swear you’ve seen them pop up a few times on MTV or Top of the Pops.
You decide to turn to your mom to ask if she knows or recognises them.
“Mom do you recognize them?”
By the time you turn to face her, she’s already got four fingers covering her agape lips, her gaze fixated on the family. She looks at you briefly, moving closer towards you.
“It’s the Jacksons, the Jackson 5, you know them?” She says below a whisper, her voice laced with surprise & a hint of excitement.
You nod, “Yeah I know the Jackson 5, that’s them?”
You stare a little harder, trying to piece their faces together with the ones you saw on TV, it’s starting to come to you.
The Jackson 5 were well known In Gary Indiana, their fame & popularity spreading fast across many other states, even globally. They’d recently had a few big breaks which pushed them to the top of the charts, enough for the majority of America to take notice. They were extremely successful & talented, yet their fame wasn’t extreme enough to need a bodyguard by their side constantly. They were right in the sweet-spot.
At the end of the day you were a girl who came from a family wealthy enough to live next door to them in Encino. You were never really the type to obsess over many celebrities, you were in your own world. You’ve seen the Jackson 5 briefly on TV, you knew they have a few hit songs & that Michael Jackson was the nucleus of their little group. You only now realise you don’t own any of their albums, no vinyls, & you have a hell of a lot in your room.
You didn’t really feel that excited, you weren’t a big fan. Maybe you’d feel more excited if Queen was moving next door.
You & your mom continue to watch them as they greet the moving staff & carry boxes to the front door. The brothers are already play fighting, one of them bouncing a basketball they took out of a box. You can hear their commotion from your end, & you fear them disturbing your peace.
You’d already seen the majority of the brothers, but you were subconsciously looking for Michael. Knowing that he was the centre of their success, you couldn’t help but look for him. You dart your eyes back & fourth around their area, trying to see if he’s around.
Your eyes fall to a pair of long legs hanging lazily out the back door of their car. You thought someone had fallen asleep before you saw a page being turnt & that’s when you saw Michael. He’s reading a book with his head down, quiet & composed while the rest of his family are in conversation with each other & the moving staff. Your immediate thought was the contrast of his stage personality & real-life personality, he looked introverted.
All of a sudden a voice booms through the driveway.
“Michael!” You hear an adult male call, most likely his dad.
Michael’s head shoots up automatically, but before his eyes reach wherever the voice is coming from, they look forward reaching you.
You instantly look away, kneeling back down & picking up your shears as you fake trim a few leaves, you’re so embarrassed. It’s only now you regret staring so much.
Michael’s gaze stay locked on the girl a block away from him, he wasn’t expecting anyone to be watching him secretly, nor was he expecting to see someone his eyes appealed to so much.
“Michael!” The voice repeats.
He’s finally snapped out of his trance as he jumps out the car & places his book on the seat, walking away out of view.
You rise again, running a hand through your hair as you look at the driveway to see if he’s gone, & he was. You exhale a sigh of relief as you turn to your mom again.
“I think he saw me.” You say, scrunching your face in embarrassment.
Your mom slaps her hands on her sides in annoyance,
“The whole point was for them to know we weren’t looking!”
The curiosity & anticipation surrounding your new neighbours lasted surprisingly longer than you'd expected. You were at the dinner table with your parents & your younger brother. Your mom already brought them up during dinner, twice. Your dad seemed a little lost, yet it was nothing worth writing home about. To him, they were just a popular group, he had bigger fish to fry. Safe to say, your mother was more intrigued than anyone else. Your brother was 9, too young & ignorant to fully know what everyone was talking about.
You didn't know how you felt. You just can't stop replaying the moment he caught you staring in your head. You don't know how he caught you through those tall gates, perhaps through the wide gaps.
You pick at your asparagus with your fork as mumbles from your family fill your ears on both sides.
You know your mom may go on about the family, yet you find yourself thinking about them separately. You chew your food slowly as your mind drifts somewhere far away, their voices now unheard.
“Yeah, & I think there’s about 6 of them there-“
You didn't know how to feel about having new neighbours, let alone famous neighbours. You don't know how you felt about meeting them, whether you wanted to or didn't want to. You knew how you felt about Michael straight away; you felt fascinated & a little enamoured. He looked different from the rest of his brothers; even on TV he looked different, special.
Your mom pointed her fork at you, "You know she got caught staring at Michael?'
You sigh, planting your chin on your palm. The sound of your dad chewing loudly with a bunch of food in his mouth makes you tense up.
"Mom."
"What?" She questions.
You set your fork down, scratching your head. To be honest, you don't want to keep talking about them.
"It was an accident, I already told you." You whisper to yourself.
Your dad finally looked interested as he wiped the sides of his mouth with his handkerchief.
"Who's Michael again?" He says through food.
"Michael Jackson, honey."
"Ah."
You bury your face in your hands, preparing yourself for the weeks of blabbering torment from both of them. Thank god your brother was too young to understand.
You rushed to your bedroom the second dinner was over, eager to get away from your mom's overbearing fascination with the Jackson family. You didn't know why you hated talking about them, but you just did. You don't want things around you to change; you like them just the way they are. Your slow mornings with your garden, your easy conversations with your parents. You were afraid all of it would be tainted with their appearance.
It's currently around 9pm, & your house had fallen to a quiet volume. You could hear your parents mumbling downstairs in the front room as they watched what sounded like MTV with the Jacksons. Your brother was sound asleep, so finally you had some time alone.
You sat at your vanity in your cremé silk nightgown, slowly brushing through your knotted day hair as the warm Cali breeze drifted through your open window beside you. You loved this time of night, when the neighbourhood was peaceful & clement. Most of the houses a few blocks down the street from yours had already gone dark, your eyes drifted towards the mansion next to you.
You had a pretty clear view of it from your bedroom window. You'd always look over & admire it even when no one was living there. You were taken aback a little when you saw lights glowing behind each window, life inside. For the first time in years, there was life inside.
You put your brush down, taking out your moisturiser as you dab some on your face, turning your attention back to the window as you rub it in.
A few moments passed, & you find yourself standing by the window. The lukewarm breeze plays with the ends of your hair as you cross your arms. You don't even know why you're staring, pure curiosity, you try to tell yourself.
You lean down as you rest your elbows against the windowsill, looking across your garden separating the two estates. The moving truck was obviously gone, & they looked settled in. Their Rolls-Royce parked dormant outside. You knew there was a fine line between watching & borderline stalking, you tried to mind your business every now & then, but you couldn't shake the fact you had the Jackson 5 family living next to you. Even if you weren't a big fan or didn't know much about them, just the fact that they were known & famous poked you.
By now, most of their lights had been turned off & you noticed only one was on upstairs, which confused you. You squint as you try to see who could be in there, maybe the parents or a brother.
You see a figure that appears to be sitting down on a bed or chair, a book in their hands. Your breath catches in your throat as you put two & two together, realising that it's probably Michael. You didn’t notice before.
It was.
You automatically shift to the side a little, not wanting to risk being caught looking again. You laugh breathlessly to yourself at the sight of him reading, just as you saw him before. You weren't fully sure what you were expecting from the lead singer of one of the most successful groups in the state, but it definitely was not this. You found his difference weirdly attractive, like you were already drawn to him.
He looked normal & just so very human. The lamplight cast a warm glow across his room, illuminating the side of his face as he kept his head down, deep in his book. Though he looked a little robotic, as if he wasn't truly natural.
You find yourself getting lost in a trance as you stare at him. You should've been in bed already, as you had a long day ahead of you tomorrow. The thought had crossed your mind multiple times while you watched him, but it's like your feet were glued to your floor. You found something peaceful about watching someone who didn't know they were being watched, like a real-life candid photo.
Michael's eyes drift up from the pages slowly, his head still inched down a little. Instead of his eyes travelling around the room absentmindedly, they find you immediately as if he knew where your room was beforehand.
Your heart dropped to your ass as heat flooded your face so quickly it almost hurt. For one painful & stretched out second, neither of you take action, neither one of you look away or make an attempt to do something.
You couldn't quite make out his expression clearly from over your end, but you knew he was looking at you, & you knew he recognised you. Finally, you stumble backwards, grabbing the edges of your curtains as you draw them shut.
"Oh my god," you hiss, covering your mouth as you pace your room.
Getting caught once was enough, but twice made you want to fall into a non-existent hole & disappear. The only thing giving you relief is knowing that he's probably used to people staring at him. But you're his neighbour now, you'd rather not make things awkward for the sake of yourself, not just him.
You stop pacing, your skin flushed with a gleam of sweat as you palms start to get clammy. You could say curiosity got the best of you once again, you cautiously crept back to the window & peered outside as you cracked open the curtains a millimetre. His room was dark & closed off, the curtains also drawn shut. You stared at them for a moment before letting yourself walk away. Clearly, you weren't the only one who felt embarrassed here.
You take off your gown & put your hair up, crawling into bed as you melt into the mattress, preparing for a deep slumber, trying to shut out your racing brain.
The next morning was cool & bright, perfect weather for being outside. Simply walking around or doing gardening, your favourite. You’d woken up early, showering yourself & putting on your best fitted mini sundress as you brush your hair, putting it into a single braid & applying some pink lip stain.
You were a morning person at heart, & apart from your mom’s new obsession, you liked talking to her about every & anything in the morning, it was part of your routine.
You plop yourself down your multiple flights of wooden stairs, the sunlight pooling through each window showing into the floors.
“Morning darling,” your mom mewls at the bottom of the stairs, holding a basket of laundry.
You smile warmly, “Good Morning.”
You make your way out the front door with a book in your hand, a romance novel. You have to admit, the amount of reading Michael was doing gave you motivation to finish one of the many books that were collecting dust on your shelf.
You plop yourself down on the swinging porch bench, the warmth pooling on your skin almost immediately. You take everything in, closing your eyes as you inhale & exhale. Finally, you open your book & start reading.
𝗠𝗶𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗲𝗹
The day had been going pretty slow for him. He woke up at around 6am. He was used to early mornings due to touring & rehearsing & just general business within the industry.
He spent the first 2 hours pondering in his room, thinking over things. The girl next door popped into his head. Never has he seen someone so beautiful so close to him, & so available. He felt guilty for pretending to be occupied while reading the night before, just so he had an excuse to try & look at her. The second he saw her eyes on his, he froze up from embarrassment. He was already so shy at heart, so this felt like death. Yet, he couldn’t help his natural urges as a boy, the way she was dressed that evening sent tingles down his abdomen. Her lean & taught frame, her tanned skin in contrast to the silk crème of her gown. He already had his nose opened wide for her, & she didn’t even know it yet.
“Latoya!” He shouts, knocking on the bathroom door multiple times.
“Wait Michael!” She squeals in her usual high-pitched voice.
He’d been waiting to shower for the last hour, his patience running thin.
She swings the door open, hot steamy condensation escaping out the room. She was the kind of girl to take hot showers in the height of summer. She’s wrapped in a white towel as she shoves past him.
“The new shower is nice, I wanted to take a long one” she protests, walking away.
Michael sighs as he walks in, a towel already slung over his shoulder.
The hot water on his body makes him relax, throwing his head back as his curls flatten under the pressure. He drags his hands over his face, then to his shoulders, then to his stomach, then—
He pauses, slowly touching & prodding with the edge of his dick. He bites his lip harshly, making an attempt to fight back the urges to touch himself to the thought of a certain someone he knows is wrong. His neighbour.
His head falls on the tiles in front of him as he wraps his hands tightly around his shaft, singular water droplets falling from the ends of his curls onto his tip, making him shiver. He never forgot the way she looked in that cherry red bikini top either, the way her body looked. Her skin would illuminate under the sun, the plump of her breasts peeking out the top. He’d never seen someone who was able to rock anything they wore, yet she does.
He was already beating himself up inside as he began small strokes, he pinched his eyes shut as small little whimpers fell from his lips.
“God help me,” he whispers to himself.
That was enough to stop him. He removed his hand from his length, running it through his hair as he continued his shower, innocently.
Some time passes & he’s in the kitchen, sipping on some orange juice he poured for himself. He makes his way to the front door, wanting to take a break in the fresh Encino sun.
The second he steps outside, he closes the door behind him softly so his father wouldn’t hear, the heat hits him instantly. He takes a few steps forward onto the driveway. Secretly, he wanted to see her. He knew this is where he saw her last, so why not try again.
He slowly turns his head to the left towards her house, sipping on his juice absentmindedly. His mouth falls agape, his teeth clinking on the glass as he sees her, again. This time she’s sitting pretty on her porch bench, reading a book.
He watches her intently, her side profile, her long braid swinging in the wind. His eyes travel down, and they find her bare thigh which had been exposed by the side of her dress, riding up from the breeze.
His mouth runs dry as he swallows. He can’t seem to look away for the life of him. He feels his heart rate pick up, thumping under his polo shirt, & something else too.
Suddenly, she turns her head towards his driveway. She turns halfway as if not wanting to be seen, like she's trying to be cautious herself.
His eyes meet hers instantly, & he doesn't know what to do with his body.
The morning sunlight caught the fabric of her sundress as she stared back, placing her book on her lap. For a second, he thought she might feel uncomfortable & retreat back into the house.
Yet, she gave a little wave. Barely more than a nervous lift of her fingers.
Despite the warmth of the air that was already stuck to him, his face warmed. He quickly lifted his own hand in return, the gesture was a little awkward on his end, but it still made him smile.
The girl smiled too, just enough for him to notice.
It felt strange to him, they hadn't exchanged a single word. Yet, somehow, introducing himself felt a little easier than he expected.
For the first time since moving into Encino, the house next door didn't feel occupied by strangers he didn't know or like.
It felt occupied by her, & her only from now on.
a/n: I know this part is a little short, yet the next two parts will be longer!! i just wanted you guys to get the jist hehe
taglist:
@unknwnbrii @janasweg @reystarkf1 @gcm4ever @thrilleronvinyl @riiiiaaz
MIMS’ WATTPAD CREATIONS (@/hotstreet) 🐑
I. PUSH ME AWAY
DESC: twenty-year-old michael jackson meets thirty-nine-year-old former model, acacia-maude woods, while taking his llama lola for a late-night stroll through the neighborhood. his affinity for older women enthralls him with the once-famous but now reclusive widow, who pushes him away out of apprehension and lingering grief. will he find consolation in her, and she, in him?
GENRE: romance, drama
TROPES: age gap, cougar, young x old, “sunshine” x “grumpy”, shared grievances
WARNINGS: N/A
AGE RATING: 16+
STATUS: ongoing!
II. HEAL THE WORLD
DESC: approximately three years after his near-death experience on june 25, 2009, michael jackson has re-established his global charity, heal the world foundation, and founded heal the world children’s research hospital in los angeles, california. during the summer of 2011, he leaves his london residence and settles back in the west coast. as michael begins spending more time at the hospital, he becomes well-acquainted with the director of pediatric surgery, dr. gillian fernsby.
GENRE: fanfiction, romance, drama
TROPES: workplace romance, “grumpy” x “sunshine”, friends to lovers
WARNINGS: N/A
AGE RATING: 16+
STATUS: ongoing!
III. ANIMAL PRINT
DESC: michael jackson’s widow and wife of 15 years (total), idalia jackson, writes a memoir recounting their trials and tribulations.
GENRE: romance, drama, slice of life
TROPES: friends to lovers, second chance, etc.
WARNINGS: drug abuse, emotional infidelity, ppd, bdd, etc.
AGE RATING: 16+
STATUS: ongoing!
IV. HOT STREET
DESC: i didn’t write a proper desc so basically it’s f1 michael and an f1 driver oc, sedona radeke, who are same-team rivals in the races.
GENRE: romance, drama, motorsport
TROPES: workplace romance, frenemies to lovers
WARNINGS: SA mention, unhappy ending
AGE RATING: 16+
STATUS: ongoing!