1982. The air is thick with the scent of hairspray and the electric thrum of a bass line that won't let go. On the stage, a plume of silk voice commands the room-a magnetic force wrapped in purple and lace. In the shadows, a pair of sunglasses shields eyes that they never saw that night. The cymbals clashed and the roar of the crowd all in unison, a silent war of the non defeat. But when the lights dim and the velvet curtains close, the music doesn't stop-it just changes its skin. From the sensual magnetic pull of the spotlight to the abrasive friction of a home where glass shatters and voices slice like blades, Michael is caught in the middle of a rhythm he didn't compose. One rival. One ghost. Both are heavy. Step behind the curtain and into the vibration of a life lived between the notes. In the space between the performance and the pain, there is a melody called Human Nature

When you least expect it, love will find you. Prince is on his way to becoming an icon. Michael is living his dream of becoming an artist.

"Give in, Jackson." After his refusal on Michael Jackson's Bad album stint, Prince wants to turn things over and wants Jackson to collaborate with him on his terms. Michael, not keen on seeing the purple pop star after the events of 87', and hectic schedule for the release of his upcoming album, immediately ignores Prince's request. Prince, being the aggressive, manipulative asshole he is, who won't take no for an answer, he things take a quick turn for the worse, as he takes the matters into his own hands, forcing Michael to work with him, against Michael's own will. But this collaborative proposal is no music collaboration. This is Prince's way of getting what he wants. More likely, who he wants.

seventeen year old michael jackson is, and always has, been incredibly shy. because of this his father joseph forces him to get a job at a gas station in hopes of him becoming more social. twenty-two year old prince rogers nelson is, and always has been, intimidating. he never let his height control him, he's just as dominant as any tall guy. prince likes to visit the gas station every night at exactly 11:00 and michael can't stand how much he makes him blush. ©yungmj ~lowercase intended

*AUTHOR'S NOTE* These are random fictitious scenarios involving Michael Jackson with Tatiana Thumbtzen as his love interest, that will include romance, drama, pain, care and everything else in between. Think of them as "imagines" but without the reader being involved. These are in no way supposed to be disrespectful towards Michael or anyone else. These are simply for fun and entertainment, and I can't help where my imagination takes me. I will take requests from anyone who wants to send me any! *I acknowledge I wrote some of these years ago so which for some reason I deleted which I GREATLY REGRET. But here's a chance for me to do it a better and more permanent way.*

"You are special. You have always been special." Just before Fidel Castro's 1994 announcement that any Cubans wishing to leave Cuba may do so, Prince Nelson is sent to Miami to take advantage of the dual-citizenship he holds. With his father in Texas, the young migrant doesn't seek shelter in Little Havana, but a bus to Amarillo, Texas. Upon his arrival, Prince is surprised by his father's reluctance to take him in, but initially is determined to earn his love through the thing he loves most- His ranch. Michael Jackson, a skilled ranch hand is surprised and intimidated by the arrival of his boss' long lost son. The daunting task of teaching him the ropes is put upon his shoulders, frustrating him further. The two, however form a bond that will change the trajectory of both of their lives forever.

𝐌𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐞𝐥 𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐨𝐧'𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐥 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐨𝐧, 𝐔𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐥 𝐋𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐲𝐚 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧' 𝐚𝐬𝐬 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐞𝐥 𝐢𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐦. "𝐖𝐞𝐢𝐫𝐝 𝐚𝐬𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐚..." 𝐌𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐞𝐥 𝐦𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚 𝐛𝐞𝐝𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐬𝐬 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐲 𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡. 🤍 ✔️

He had the eyes that burned into you like hell's flames. Hands soft like heaven's clouds but he used them for sinful acts. He played music like if Lucifer were an angel again. Every note had an emotion. He was devilishly handsome but his passionate expressions made him look like an angel fallen from heaven. He was an angel fallen from heaven. Just like Lucifer.

The phrase "family is everything" gets tested when a woman and her boyfriend decide to take a three week vacay at her brothers chateau, not knowing that all hell will break loose during their time there. Michael | THRILLER era Prince | NUDE/ GRAFFITI BRIDGE era Janet | VELVET ROPE era

𝙼𝙰𝚃𝚄𝚁𝙴!!⚠️‼️🔞 **Description:** Winter, 1976. What should have been a routine class trip turns into a nightmare when an unexpected blizzard leaves Michael Jackson and Prince Rogers Nelson-exes with nothing but bad blood between them-trapped together in a freezing ski lodge. The storm came fast, swallowing the roads, cutting off power, and forcing their divided groups to merge into the same tight space with no way out. They haven't spoken in months-not since their relationship went down in flames, not since they tore each other apart in ways that still sting. But the night is long, and heat is running low. They might not have a choice. --- **Prologue:** The air inside the lodge bit at every inch of exposed skin, slipping through the cracks in the boarded-up windows, curling like a ghost through the gaps in the floorboards. It was the kind of cold that settled deep in the bones, Someone's teeth were chattering. Someone else was muttering about how the storm came too fast. Michael Jackson curled in on himself, arms tight around his chest, trying to keep what little warmth he had. The fireplace in the corner was barely flickering, its heat swallowed by the size of the room. He hated the cold. He hated this whole situation. Worse than that, though, was *him*. Prince was across the room, sitting on the edge of a table, elbows on his knees, dark eyes fixed on the wall like he was willing himself somewhere else. His fingers flexed, then clenched into fists, like he was trying to keep them from going numb. The storm outside howled through the thin walls, and for a second, it almost drowned out the sound of the students whispering. Almost. Michael wouldn't look at him. He wouldn't speak to him. Not after everything. Prince didn't look at him either. But at some point, when the night stretched on and the cold kept creeping in, they were going to have to break the silence. 𝙿𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎: 𝚝𝚘𝚙 𝙼𝙹:bo