#sweethearts

Let's get back on posting stuff here with these two 💕 been sick again with Zosan since last summer...

Babies in animated XD

It would be adorable if the op and megs rivalry would start as a bitlet friendship ! While Op would enjoy Meg’s company, he’d still run and avoid Meg’s due to his pushy attitude. If you’re playing w baby Meg’s, that means you’re playing by his rules, otherwise he may go feral. However when Op does that, which is a lot, he takes it as a challange.

Like when Op just wants to escape Meg’s attempt to drag him back to the play zone, he thinks it’s tag. Or when Op hides, it’s hide and seek.

He’s an affectionate maniac

Dw if he accidentally hurts Op, he starts to cry as well.

Babies awhhh. Meg’s first word is ‘prime’ btw

EXTRA :

They’re little sweethearts awhwhwhwh 🥺😔🥹

Oh and Bee is getting the brunt of it all, since he’s in charge of the baby. Now who’s acting like an old geezer? HAHASJ taste of his own medicine

Bee will become more cranky and anxious abt Op’s safety and even look in the mirror in horror-

Time speaks || Michael x Gf! Reader ||

Synopsis: a short complication of moments Michael x reader.

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Jermaine wandered into the living room, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "Has anyone seen Michael?"

he asked, glancing around the house. Jackie looked up from the couch, Tito shook his head, and Marlon shrugged. For a second, nobody said anything.

Then, as if it had been rehearsed, every single brother turned to look at you. You blinked beneath the weight of their stares. "...What?" Jermaine frowned. "Where is he?"

You laughed. "How am I supposed to know?" "Because you always do," Jackie replied matter-of-factly.

You rolled your eyes, pretending to think for a second. "Maybe the music room?" Marlon pointed triumphantly. "See? She knows!" "I guessed!" you defended, throwing your hands up.

The brothers split up anyway, and less than a minute later Randy's voice echoed from upstairs. "Found him!"

"Where?" Jermaine called back. "Music room. He's asleep on the floor." Marlon burst into laughter, looking back at you. "Told you." You couldn't help but smile. "I really did guess." Upstairs, Michael stirred awake, completely oblivious to the commotion.

"Why's everybody lookin' for me?" he mumbled, earning nothing but laughter from downstairs.

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The food had barely been on the table for a minute before Michael reached over with his fork, silently holding it out toward your plate. Without looking up, you angled your dish closer so he could steal a bite, already reaching across to sample his in return. The table stayed quiet as the two of you chewed, neither saying a word.

Then, almost at the same time, your eyes met. A tiny pause and a barely-there raise of his eyebrows. The faintest twitch at the corner of your mouth. Without breaking eye contact, Michael slid his plate toward you. You pushed yours toward him. The exchange was casual, as though it had happened a hundred times before. Which it has.

Across the table, Tito slowly lowered his fork. Jackie looked from your plate to Michael's, then back again. Marlon frowned. "..."

Jermaine watched the two of you continue eating without acknowledging what had just happened. Finally, he leaned toward the others and muttered, "They just switch meals?" Nobody answered.

They simply watched as you and Michael carried on eating each other's dinners, perfectly content, like it was the most ordinary thing in the world.

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You sat sideways on Michael's lap, one hand resting lightly against his forehead while the other carefully worked the tweezers through his brows.

He held a small hand mirror beneath his chin, tilting it every so often so you could check your work. The room was quiet except for the occasional clink of the tweezers. As you leaned in to inspect one eyebrow, Michael's gaze drifted from his reflection to your face.

His eyes lingered for a second before he gently caught your wrist. You paused, looking at him in confusion, and he simply held out his hand. Without questioning it, you placed the tweezers into his palm. Still saying nothing, he leaned forward, brushed a loose strand of hair away from your face with his thumb, spotted a tiny stray eyebrow hair, and with one quick, practiced motion, plucked it.

You blinked more from surprise than pain. Satisfied, he handed the tweezers back as if nothing had happened, adjusted the mirror in his hand, and looked at you expectantly.

You stared at him for a beat before quietly returning to his eyebrows, while Jackie, passing through the room, slowed to a stop, watched the entire exchange, and muttered under his breath, "Y'all are weird," before walking away.

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You sat at your vanity, one eye half-finished as you blended out your eyeshadow, the tabletop already cluttered with brushes, compacts, and tubes scattered in every direction.

Frowning, you pulled open one drawer, then another, quietly rummaging through the mess until your search became just a little more determined. Just as you were about to empty the entire lipstick organizer onto the table, Michael wandered into the room, shopping bag dangling from one finger.

He paused in the doorway, watching you dig through the drawer for a moment before reaching into the bag. Without a word, he held out a small lipstick box.

You looked up, confused, then took it from him. "What's this?" He shrugged. "Saw you were almost out." You turned the box over in your hands before opening it, your expression immediately softening.

It was the exact same shade you always wore, the same finish, the same brand, even the same number printed on the bottom. You smiled, looking up at him. "Thank you." Michael smiled back with a small nod, as if it hadn't been worth mentioning.

You uncapped it, swiped it across your lips, and glanced at yourself in the mirror. Perfect. Without thinking, you reached over and gave his hand a gentle squeeze before returning to your makeup, while Michael leaned against the doorframe, quietly pleased that he'd gotten it right without having to ask.

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The front door creaked open, and Michael stepped inside with the biggest grin on his face, both hands carefully cradling a tiny kitten against his chest. "Baby?" he called, trying, and failing, to hide his excitement.

You looked up from the couch, your eyes landing on the little bundle of fur. For a split second you just stared and your mouth fell open. "Wait here!" you gasped before bolting down the hallway at full speed.

Michael blinked after you, thoroughly confused, the kitten mewing softly in his arms. "What...?" A few seconds later, you came rushing back, struggling to carry not one but two tiny kittens tucked against your chest.

You stopped in front of him, equally wide-eyed. "I was gonna surprise you!" For a moment, neither of you spoke. Michael looked down at the kitten in his arms, then at the two in yours. You looked from your kittens to his. Another beat of silence. Then, completely at the same time, you both burst into laughter.

From the living room, the brothers had witnessed the entire exchange. Marlon doubled over first. "No way!" Jermaine was already wiping tears from his eyes.

"Y'all bought each other cats?" Tito shook his head, laughing. "Not one of them thought to ask the other first." Jackie looked at the three bewildered kittens, then at the two of you still laughing in the doorway.

"Well..." he shrugged, unable to hide his smile. "Guess y'all have three cats now."

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The noise backstage was deafening, crew members weaving through cables and equipment as the brothers came offstage, still buzzing with adrenaline from the show.

You had barely made it a few steps toward them before Michael spotted you. His face lit up instantly, and he crossed the corridor to wrap you in a quick hug. As he pulled back, his eyes dropped to your feet, you were wearing heels. He frowned ever so slightly, glanced down the length of the hallway, then back at you.

Without a word, he slipped one arm behind your knees and the other around your back, lifting you effortlessly into a bridal carry.

You let out a surprised laugh, instinctively looping your arms around his neck as though this happened all the time. Michael simply adjusted his grip and continued walking toward the dressing rooms like carrying you was the most natural thing in the world. Behind them, the brothers watched in collective disbelief. Marlon threw his hands into the air. "Man, she can walk!" Michael didn't even look back. Jermaine shook his head with a groan.

"These two are sickening." Tito laughed under his breath. "Too in love." Jackie watched Michael disappear down the hallway with you comfortably nestled in his arms and smirked. "Give it another five minutes and he'll probably feed her grapes, too."

Michael, completely unfazed by the commentary echoing behind him, only asked quietly, "Your feet hurting?" You smiled, resting your head against his shoulder.

"A little." He nodded once. "Thought so." And he never set you down.

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The backyard echoed with laughter, splashing water, and the unmistakable sound of the Jackson family trying to outdo one another. Janet had declared war with a pool noodle, Randy was cannonballing into the deep end every five minutes, and someone had started a game that had long since dissolved into complete chaos.

In the middle of it all, you and Michael floated lazily beside each other, shoulders just above the water. Neither of you seemed particularly interested in the commotion. As Janet watched from the shallow end, she noticed something odd. Michael reached for the slice of watermelon you'd been eating at the exact moment you reached for the lemonade floating beside him. Neither of looked or asked. You simply exchanged them mid-conversation as though you'd planned it.

A few minutes later, Michael leaned back to avoid a splash just as you instinctively shifted to block it with your shoulder.

Then, without either of you saying a word, you both looked up at the same bird flying overhead at the exact same second. Janet frowned, watching another minute pass before quietly swimming over to Katherine.

"...Mama?" Katherine glanced up from her lounge chair.

"Have you ever noticed they're... weird together?" She smiled. "How so?"

"They keep doing the same things at the same time." Janet pointed toward the pool. "Look."

As if on cue, you and Michael reached for the same beach ball. Michael let go the instant he realized you had it, while you immediately tossed it back to him without either of you speaking.

A second later, you both turned your heads at the sound of Tito laughing across the yard.

Janet blinked.

"They didn't even look at each other."

Katherine watched for a quiet moment, the corners of her mouth lifting into a knowing smile.

"They've been beside each other so long," she said softly, "that sometimes I don't think they realize where one ends and the other begins." Janet kept watching as the two of you drifted through the water, laughing at something nobody else had heard.

Katherine let out a gentle laugh and shook her head. "Those two..." she murmured. "...They'll last longer than time."

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The grocery bags had barely made it onto the kitchen counter before you began pulling out carton after carton of orange juice.

Michael looked from the growing collection to you with a puzzled smile, pulp-free, extra pulp, freshly squeezed, calcium-fortified, one in a glass bottle, another in a carton, all different brands lined up in a neat row.

You disappeared into the cupboard and returned with two clean glasses, setting them beside him before pouring a little of each juice into matching pairs.

Without having to discuss it, the tasting began. One sip. A thoughtful pause. A tiny nod or shake of the head.

Every so often, one of you would silently slide a favorite a little farther up the counter or push a disappointing one to the end of the line. By the sixth glass, Michael reached for the same carton you were already reaching for.

You both took another sip, looked at each other, and gave identical approving nods. That one stayed at the front. When the brothers wandered into the kitchen, they stopped dead in the doorway.

The counter looked like the judging table of a professional taste test, nearly every glass half full, with you and Michael standing shoulder to shoulder, completely engrossed.

Jermaine looked at the lineup, then at the notepad where Michael had somehow started ranking sweetness, acidity, and pulp. "...Are y'all reviewing orange juice?"

Neither of you looked up. Michael took another sip, thoughtfully tilted his head, and quietly moved one carton down a place. You nodded in agreement and adjusted the ranking beside it. Marlon burst into laughter.

"Only you two would turn grocery shopping into a science experiment." Neither of you argued. You were too busy deciding which orange juice deserved first place.

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They were stretched out on the living room floor, a half-finished puzzle forgotten between them as the conversation drifted from one topic to the next.

"I was thinking..." you murmured, turning another puzzle piece over in your fingers. "If you and I ever get married—"

"Sorry," Michael interrupted without even looking up. You blinked. He finally lifted his head, wearing the smallest, most matter-of-fact smile.

"When we get married." The room fell quiet.

You stared at him, lips parting as your brain caught up with what he'd just said.

"...When?" He shrugged like it was the most obvious thing in the world, fitting another puzzle piece into place.

"When." A smile slowly spread across your face.

"...Oh."

Michael glanced over, caught your expression, and smiled back before returning to the puzzle as though he'd merely corrected your grammar.

From the couch, Jermaine lowered his magazine with a groan.

"There he goes."

Marlon laughed. "Man didn't even let her finish the sentence."

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You'd checked the music room, the den, the backyard, even the kitchen where he usually wandered whenever he was hungry. Nothing. The house felt strangely empty without him in it.

Stepping outside, you shaded your eyes against the afternoon sun and let your gaze drift toward the old Giving Tree.

Sure enough, there he was. Perched on one of the wide branches, knees drawn up, absentmindedly picking at a leaf while staring out over the property.

You smiled to yourself. Of course. Without calling his name, you walked over, slipped off your shoes, and climbed the tree with the ease of someone who'd done it a hundred times before. The branch dipped slightly as you settled beside him.

Michael glanced over for only a second, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth before he looked back at the horizon. You didn't ask what he was thinking. He didn't explain why he'd come out there.

Instead, you simply leaned your shoulder against his, the leaves rustling softly above as the two of you sat in comfortable silence. After a minute, Michael rested his head lightly against yours, and the silence carried on, exactly the way both of you liked it.

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The family barbecue had slowly scattered everyone across the yard. Jackie and Tito were deep in conversation by the grill, Jermaine was helping Janet set up another game, Marlon had somehow convinced half the cousins to play football, and you had wandered off to help Katherine carry drinks inside.

Michael, meanwhile, had been pulled into a conversation on the opposite side of the garden. For the next hour, the two of you barely crossed paths. Nobody thought much of it. Then Janet looked around, frowning.

"...Where's Michael?"

Jermaine pointed vaguely across the yard. "Was over there."

"And where's she?" Katherine glanced toward the house. "Thought she was helping me."

Everyone's eyes began searching the yard. Michael was no longer talking to the group he'd been standing with. You weren't in the kitchen anymore.

A moment later, Tito chuckled quietly and nodded toward the old oak tree at the edge of the property.

There you both were and neither of you seemed to have noticed you'd moved.

You were both walking around together again, your shoulders brushing as Michael showed you something he'd found while the conversation carried on as naturally as if it had never been interrupted.

Jermaine watched for a long moment before letting out a laugh. "I swear..."

Jackie followed his gaze, smiling to himself. "They always end up finding each other."

Katherine looked toward the two of you, who were completely unaware that anyone was watching.

"No," she said softly, a fond smile spreading across her face. "They never find each other."

The family turned to her. "They've simply never been very good at being apart."

It made sense almost immediately. Because watching the two of you standing there together again, as naturally as rivers finding the sea, it felt less like a choice and more like gravity.