#kinda rushed i’m sorry

[coconutbabydoll]

ೀ- everytime (a.anderson)

pairing: abby anderson x fem!reader

warnings: idk ?? i don’t think there is any , please lmk if there is

summary: basically inspired by “everytime” by ari with a little changes, i recommend listening to this song before reading this if you haven’t already

a/n: first drabble or one shot!! i don’t really know what category it falls under, pleaseeeee be nice, i am working on my vocabulary and grammar also reblogs,like and comments are highly appreciated!!! enjoy :) also the ending is kinda rushed lol

you’re done with her, you swore you were done with her. you’ve been saying this forever and surely you finally felt like you meant it. you’re on and off relationship with abby was like an rollercoaster, just when you guys have been really good there was another argument. you’re needy and stubborn and you only want abby to yourself and to spend time with you only. you know that she’s a busy women with her basketball team and she can’t always suffice to your needs. you tried to plan small things to hangout with her like movie dates. she always said she would try to make it but she never did, you partly understood, but this time was the straw that broke the camels back.

a week ago was you and abby’s two year anniversary. this meant a lot to you, you could barely contain your excitement. you planned a dinner date at fancy restaurant that you’ve been on the waitlist for months. but of course you and abby had to get into another argument the night before your anniversary, and it was bad. it’s not like you guys broke up that night but she did end up leaving your house when she was supposed to stay for a week.

you woke up the morning of your anniversary expecting missed calls from abby, apology texts, and an a happy anniversary text but nothing, which was weird because she always apologizes after an argument (even thought it never her fault). you relaxed for the rest of the day until it hit 7:00 o clock. you put on makeup, curled your hair, and but on a sexy black dress, grabbed your purse and headed out.

9:27pm and you were still seated at your table on your third glass of champagne and had already order two appetizer. you swiveled your head to door everytime you heard it open, nope wasn’t her. maybe your read into this all wrong, maybe she broke up with you without actually breaking up with you during your argument last night, i mean she was pissed. she called you controlling. she is a busy women, she mention something about basketball practice today, but she said she’ll be here, it wasn’t an “i’ll try to,” she said she will! what did you expect , she didn’t even wish you an happy anniversary.

“can i get the check please?” you mumbled sheepishly to the waiter as she passed you by. you were embarrassed, this was embarrassing. getting up from your seat you contemplated texting her, calling her, cussing her out maybe? asking her what was her fucking problem. whatever, she obviously doesn’t want too speak to you if she missed out fucking anniversary.

a week since the anniversary has passed and you’re obviously not over her, you never went this long without talking to abby. all of your breakups with her never lasted longer than three days, and she was the one who always wanted to get back together. when your with your friends you tried to not show a change in you demeanor, but you couldn’t help it. abby brought out the best in you, she made you cheerful, tender, and amiable, you became a better person all around. but maybe you brought out the worst in abby, maybe she finally had enough and decided that she was done with you.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

it was like it was calling your name. the whole week was fulfilled with lonely nights, only acompanied with your second half full bottle of vodka. you leisurely walked over to your vanity desk and took big gulps finishing the rest of the bottle. familiar taste but it still burns.

*ringtone from your phone*

you walk over to your phone with the bottle of vodka it one hand. you squinted your eyes looking over the brightness of you screen.

*CRASH*

abby. what the fuck, why was she calling you? it’s been a week, did she miss you? maybe it was an accident, maybe she was calling to apologize, all these thoughts and your the sound of your ringtone ended. but then she texted you.

abby: come over, i miss you

you pondered whether you should reply or not, but your drunk self got the best you.

y/n: fucj you

abby: are you drunk ?

y/n: are you ???!?

abby: stay where you are , i’m coming to get you

y/n: you dpnt even hsve my location

abby: baby you still have your location on

you were drunk and you missed her but you didn’t want to give in that easy, so you left your phone in your apartment and started walking out the door. to where ? you don’t even know you just didn’t wanna see her.

you didn’t even make it two blocks until you abby’s car pulled up on you. “what are you doing? get in the car,” prompted abby as she slowed down the speed of the car so it could match the pace of your walking. “leave me alone!” you yelled words obviously slurred. “i’m sorry baby, i made a mistake.” you stopped walking - fuck, why is she like this, why does she make your stomach go all crazy with only five words? you hesitated but you got in the car. why does god keeping bringing you back to her, everytime?

[mikusabbathh]

Throwing my hat into the ring

[romcomxb]

based off of this 👇👇

and here’s the lineart version

[meow-town]

Jealous! Dee x Reader Oneshot 「Seeing Green」

Summary : Dee arrives at a party hoping to find his crush, but envy makes an entrance and makes him reveal secrets within his heart.

Requested by @chanel-lovegood !! Thank you so much! Things have really been piling on lately, so sorry if I take a while to finish requests!

Also, I’m literALLY SO SORRY FOR TAKING SO LONG TUMBLR DELETED MY ENTIRE DRAFT FOR SOME REASON AND I HAD TO START OVER

Why was he here? Dee Shvagenbagen, antisocial know-it-all, someone who absolutely despised parties and big social gatherings. He thought they were foolish, he had better things to do. He could be reading, he could be going over school notes, he could be doing anything other than being stuffed in some suburban house with horny sixteen year olds awkwardly swaying to shitty house music. Yet here he was, grabbing onto a clear plastic cup full with water and blowing off everyone who came up to him expecting to get his number.

“Not interested.”

“But I literally just-”

“I’m not interested.”

The brunette sighed, turning on her heel and sulking away to the furthest corner. He sighed and went back on his search, scouting out for the light in this dark realm of absurdity. Turning corners, climbing up stairs to a whole other side of the party, stepping out into the front yard, and continuing to push away people who didn’t know about the concept of personal space. He continued to look for them, the only thing worth being here for. 

(f/n) (l/n).

A diamond in the rough. He didn’t expect them to be at party. From what he had gathered, they would much rather be at home than doing anything like this. He had seen social media posts of them reading or drawing or just staying in in general. Dee remembered how he had come to arrive at this party. Kids were bombarding the class group chat with messages about it, obviously, Dee couldn’t be less interested until he overheard someone speak at school. That’s what Dee did. He subconsciously eavesdropped, constantly.

“Yeah, I’ve invited (f/n) to the party. She said she’d go if I did.”

A slight twinge of hurt pecked at his chest, someone had probably spiked the water or whatever.

 His mind scattered back, scratching into the deepest corners of his brain to think of more places they could be.

‘Upstairs? No, there’s people making out up there, they wouldn’t be comfortable. Maybe they’re in the bathroom, hiding? That sounds like something they would do.’

His breath hitched in his throat once he realized. Squeezing in between people, leaving behind a trail of ‘excuse me’s and ‘coming through’s. He made his way back out through the kitchen door, leaving to the backyard. And once he slid the door closed, he saw.

There they were. Sitting atop the grass with an anxious dog on their lap.

“Sh, sh. It’s okay! They’re just loud noises, nothing’s gonna hurt you!” The terrier whimpered in response, backing up further into them.

He sighed into his lips, parting his sight. A rosy tint crept onto his cheeks, just by looking at them. (F/n), sweetest soul he’d ever met. And now was a perfect example. The sight of them holding the little creature close to their chest, stroking its fur gradually while whispering sweet words of reassurance - even while fully knowing the dog wouldn’t understand, it was adorable.

A distant song made its way to his ears.

You see me in hindsight, tangled up with you all night.

Burning, it, down.

“Dee?”

“Y-yeah? Sorry, I just zoned out.”

He mentally striked himself across the face, scowling visibly while they smiled at him. “What are you doing here? I thought you hated these types of things.”

“I do, but I wanted to see someone here.” ‘You. It’s you who I wanted to see.’ “What about you?”

“A friend dragged me here along with him.”

A comforting silence took over them both. Silences were just different with (f/n), Dee thought. They silently gestured for him to sit next to them, patting the grass with one hand. With still no words spoken, he sat and shuffled closer to (f/n), cheeks still pinkish in color. He reached for the dog to scratch behind its ears and retracted his arms to prop himself up once more. Some stars were visible, but with all of the light coming from inside and the lamppost, they could only point some out.

The terrier suddenly jumped out of (f/n)’s arms to switch over to Dee. Hopping off, it strided to his side and jumped onto his lap. (F/n) looked over at him, giving him a closed-eye smile. He felt his heart flutter in his chest. Wrapping an arm languidly around the pup, his gaze returned to the skies.  How long had it been? Bit less than a year now. Around 10 months since (f/n) transferred to his school, and 8 months since he developed a crush on them. It really only got worse from there. It was a silly little crush, at first. Evolved into him thinking about them before he went to sleep, cradling his pillow. Then he began to ask around for their socials, places they would be during the weekend. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be here with them right now.

He exhaled deeply, cherishing this moment.

The scent of their hair, their usual coffee order, their playlist, their favorite flower - which they had only briefly mentioned in a school trip once. He remembered every small detail he could recollect, small and unimportant as it may seem.  “Who’d you say you came here with?” He blurted out, desperate to get some form of conversation going.

“Oh, just Vitya. He’s in the school band, you’ve probably heard of him.”

His brow unconscious furrowed. Vitya. Sure, he’d heard of Vitya. Bassist and lead vocalist of the school band, as well as second hand man to Ches. He’d visited Ches’s shop every now and then only to see Vitya greet him each time. Vitya, with his ruffled brown hair and his dimples and his incredible skills in music. Who had more talent in his left pinkie finger than Dee could ever have in his entire body.

He chose to let it go, to just enjoy the time he had with (f/n) for as long as he could. Vitya could cloud his thoughts any day, but moments like these came once in a lifetime. “Why don’t you join the band? Haywire has been looking for a new member, and you seem to like the kind of music they produce.”

“Just, uh, not really interested.” Lies. Dee couldn’t play a note if his life depended on it. He tended to rush into things, to impulsively decide to learn something new and get frustrated as all hell when he wasn’t amazing at it within the first five minutes. Being intellectually gifted does that to a person. You grow up all of your life being naturally amazing at everything without having to lift a finger, and once you have to put in effort, you give up.

They sat in lively conversation for about another ten minutes, until the music re-emerged from its muffled state, as a voice shouted over it.

“(F/N)! GET OVER HERE! SOMEONE’S DEDICATING A SONG TO YOU!” (F/n)’s head darted over immediately.

“Oh shit! Really?”  The dog jumped up at the sight of their agitated state. “I’m coming! Coming!” While they scrambled to their feet, Dee swiftly pulled the critter off of him.

“I’ll come with.” He grumbled, pulling his jacket back into place. (F/n) nodded and grasped his forearm to drag him inside. They shut the door behind them, placing their plastic cup onto the kitchen counter. An electric guitar being tuned, drum kits being assembled, keyboard being tried out and a bass guitar being plugged in, much to Dee’s dismay. It wouldn’t take a genius to find out who dedicated a song to (f/n). Dee felt bad for the other members of Haywire, being dragged into an entire performance because their leader was head over heels for someone he couldn’t have.

He couldn’t have them, Dee repeated the phrase in his mind, almost to convince himself. (F/n) was destined to end up with him. It was only fair.  “This song goes out to someone who’s real special to me.” Dee blocked out the voice to the best of his abilities. He could just imagine the way Vitya looked at (f/n) when he said that. “You’re always by my side, (f/n). And I think this is a good way to show you how much I appreciate everything you do for me.”

‘No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no. This is not a confession.’ Dee thought, looking back at them. The starter riff begun and Dee internally facepalmed at the sound of it.

‘Wonderwall. Of all the songs you could dedicate to someone, Wonderwall. How basic and boring.’

Even with how distressed he was, the blonde always managed to critique something. His gaze flew from one person to another. The crowd staring at them like a pair of animals at the zoo, and the brunette’s sight caught directly onto (f/n).

He carried on through the entire song, adjusting his gaze every once in a while to be able to look at the fretboard. People were recording, as if this were a romantic comedy in which the guy on stage would drop on his knees to receive a kiss from the love interest.

But it didn’t seem to far from that. And it scared Dee.

Vitya staring deeply into (f/n)’s eyes, and them shyly reciprocating with a twinkle.

This wasn’t happening.  The absolute hysteria building up in his body was too much to bear. It couldn’t end here. Dee needed to have his chance. He need to tell them how they felt. The tension is his neck was alarmingly visible, and he had to do something. 

Vitya leaning further from the stage, beginning to sit on his knees to face the crowd better. Sitting on his knees to face (f/n) better. To have his face closer to theirs. To make their move. To take them away from him. To ruin him.

“Dee?!”

Before he knew what he was doing, he latched onto their frame, swooping them out of the scene.

“What the fuck, man?!” Dee didn’t say anything back, as much as he wanted to. As much as he wanted to swipe the lovesick look clean off of the bassist’s face with a guitar. Dee ignored all complaints and demands to be put down and took them into a closet, locking the door behind them. He took a breather, body pressed firmly against the door, as if someone was to barge in at any second. “What the fuck are you doing?!”

“Shut up.”

“I- excuse me?!”

“Shut up.”

He doesn’t know why. It seemed right in the heat of the moment and he pulled her away. And now they were both inside a pitch dark closet, sharing a small space that could barely fit the both of them. His breathing calmed down, and his head thudded on the wall behind him once he threw it back. No one had seen them go in here. He made sure.  “Dee…” He couldn’t see anything, just black. Pure black. “Why did you pull me in here?” His cool demeanor shattered into small little bits, as he stumbled over words and syllables.

“I-I just… Uhm. I don’t…” He was cut off by a sigh and he shut up this time.

Dark as all hell, with no ability to see anything. He felt two hands press down on his shoulders. “Oh, there you are.” He stifled a gasp when he felt their hands on him, cheeks burning hotter with each second that passed. “These are your shoulders, right?”

“Yeah.. yeah, that’s it.” He replied, voice shaky as he tensed up even more. The tips of his ear were turning pink, and for once he was glad it was dark in the room. He couldn’t imagine having to explain to (f/n) why he was sweating, face looking like a fire truck. They patted along his shoulders, gripping onto his arms and finding their way all over him. Cupping his cheeks, they tugged and pinched slightly.

“Im guessing this is your face..?”

“It is.”

They chuckled and moved to remove their hands. But his ones piled over theirs to maintain them where they were. “N-no.” He whispered. “Keep them here.” (F/n) hummed and did as he said, taking a step forward. He nuzzled further into their palm, exhaling deeply. They were now so close to each other, Dee could feel the body heat radiating off of (f/n). Although there was no light, they could feel his gaze like a touch. They pulled away.

“We should get out of here, Vitya’s looking for me. I don’t wanna make him worry.”

“Stop talking about Vitya. Vitya isn’t here. I’m here.” He husked, now managing to see (f/n) more clearly in the dark. The (hair-colored) beauty relaxed, eyes half lidded. “It’s just Vitya with you, isn’t it?” The question took both of them by surprise. (F/n) didn’t know how to respond, and Dee couldn’t imagine what he had just said. That was risky. Too risky. He could have apologized and let it go, but at this point he might as well pull through with it. “Vitya dedicating a song to you, Vitya inviting you to a party, Vitya and his bass skills, Vitya, Vitya, Vitya.”

He continued to confront them. “What about me? Why can’t you gush over me? I’ve been trying my absolute hardest for you to notice my approaches and nothing. How am I supposed to feel knowing that my best wasn’t good enough, and that some rando can win you over by doing his bare minimum? Huh?”

(F/n) blinked at the blonde’s outburst, mind clouded with so many thoughts at once they couldn’t focus on a single one. They listened to him ramble on, except their brain wasn’t absorbing any of the info he spat at them. Dee Shvagenbagen, antisocial know-it-all, and the most attractive person they’d ever met. Their body drove closer to him, itching to get closer. They’d been keeping their distance for him to not notice them falling for him. After all, he wasn’t interested in people like that. Or at least, people excluding (f/n). Maybe 8 months since she grew apart. And it was harder each day. Harder to not confess the way they felt.

Another step.  And another.

And another.

They cupped his chin, pupils dilated completely. Whether it was from the lack of light, or from how close they were to him, they didn’t know. Possibly both. Dee’s rant came halting to an end, as (f/n) closed the space between them.

As they felt fireworks go off in their stomach, as they felt all nerves dissipate from their body, as they silently thanked a greater good for this opportunity.

As they pressed their lips onto his, pressing a stray hand flat on his chest. He felt them run their fingers around his hair, pulling of the hair tie to run their fingers through it. Pausing in between for breaths each time, Dee smashed his lips onto theirs, losing all control he might’ve previously had. He pulled away fro a brief second, enticing them with the promise of more. Only for him to push them back in a mere second, pushing the back of their head into the kiss. Long breaths, roaming hands and deep kisses.  “I’ve liked you… Hah, for the longest time. Dee.”

“Me too…”

They clawed at his back when he forced entrance into their mouth, claiming every spot as his. Needless to say, Dee knew his feelings were reciprocated.

[sunsetsandsunshine]

~ 𝚃𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚕 𝚘𝚛 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚕 ~

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙸𝙼 𝚂𝙾𝙱𝙱𝙸𝙽𝙽𝙶𝙶𝙶𝙶. 𝙸’𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙿𝙱&𝙹 𝚍𝚞𝚘 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚃𝙾 𝙱𝙰𝙲𝙺 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚃𝙼𝙽𝚃 𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚏𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘𝚖 𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝. 𝙸 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚜𝚖 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚞𝚢𝚜 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚍𝚠— 𝙸’𝚖 𝚐𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚊 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚍𝚞𝚘’𝚜 𝚘𝚏𝚌 𝚒𝚝’𝚜 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚟𝚋𝚏𝚋𝚏𝚑𝚍𝚓𝚓 𝙸 𝙻𝙾𝚅𝙴 𝙿𝙱&𝙹 ✊🏾🥲…𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢’𝚛𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚏𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚍𝚞𝚘 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚙…˚*• ̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*＊·̩̩̥͙

𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: 𝙵𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜: 𝟸,𝟻𝟷𝟸

𝙻𝚎𝚎: 𝙼𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚢 🐢🧡

𝙻𝚎𝚛: 𝙳𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚎 🐢💜

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝙼𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚝𝚘𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚝 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚍𝚎𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚞𝚙 𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛. (𝙶𝚎𝚝 𝚒𝚝? 𝙱𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚝 = 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚎 = 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜/𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚞𝚙? 𝚈𝚎𝚊𝚑 𝚘𝚏 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚒𝚝, 𝚑𝚎’𝚜 𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝).

(𝙰/𝙽: 𝙳𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚐𝚞𝚢! 𝚃*𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙺𝚒𝚗𝚔/𝙽𝚂𝙵𝚆 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚜 𝙳𝙽𝙸!!!)

𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚜: @shut-up-jo @someone1348 @itzsana-kiddingmenow

@saturnzskyzz @giggly-cloud @savemeafruitjuice

@rice-cake-teen10 @titters-and-tingles @tmntalways @my-l0v3r-v3rse

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝟷𝟶𝟷% 𝚊 𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚌 𝚜𝚘 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝙸 𝚜𝚞𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚕𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍 <𝟹

𝚃𝚆: 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎’𝚜 𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚑𝚑𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝’𝚜 𝚒𝚝!!!

̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙻𝚎𝚝’𝚜 𝚍𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜…𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 /𝚛𝚎𝚏˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

Alright. Hear Mikey out on this one, okay? Because in all honesty, this was originally a fire plan. A lit plan. Some might say that the fire from the plan was sooooo hot it was practically blazing due to the fact of how awesome it was.

…okay. Well perhaps maybe people don’t say that exact term but they definitely should!

Anyways, it started off as a pretty chill day for the orange banded teen. I mean, it was Summer for crying out loud! These next few months were supposed to be absolutely nothing but pure chillness.

If your Summer isn’t even a bit chill in the slightest, then you’re doing something totally wrong. 

Daylight savings was over, school was over and most importantly…homework was over! (Besides the fact that Mikey and his brother’s are forced to do dumb reading reports over the break because the school system dumb)…But other than that, Michelangelo was basically free! Free as a bird. 

And so, like any sane studious kid that has been in High school for about a year…Mikey has been doing something he hasn’t done in a while since school started…

…Absolutely nothing.  

He’s been spending the past week or two playing Roblox on his IPad while eating Doritos mixed with Skittles.

Look, don’t even judge until you try, it’s actually pretty good!

But anyways, as Mikey was playing Flee the Facility, he randomly came to terms with the fact that he needed to steal some of his brother’s clothes for today…

Random thought, I know. 

The youngest has (and always will) politely take his brother’s clothes during the Summer— preferably hoodies and/or shirts. It’s basically a forced hand-me-down/Yard sale the youngest turtle always looks forward to. And today marked the 29th of June— 8 days from June 22nd. 

And if you’re unfamiliar, the 22nd of June marked the official end of Spring and official start of Summer! So the smallest turtle’s annual raid of his elder brother’s clothes was loooooong overdue. 

Last Summer, Mikey took Raph’s Detroit Become Human t-shirt, his WWE shirt, one of his polos and one of his The Walking Dead t-shirts (Raph had a TON). 

And the Summer before that, Mikey took Leo’s Squidward hoodie. And…yeah. That was basically it— the eldest was a pretty bland guy and there was really nothing worth taking from his wardrobe. 

So if you did your Math correctly, you would realize that this year it was Donnie’s turn. And so that’s what the youngest of the turtle teens was planning…

How the absolute hell could he take some of his immediate older brother’s clothes without taking ALL of them? 

Because believe it or not, the nerdy turtle of the group had a pretty good fashion taste and sense. His style was simple but not too bland or standout-ish. Donnie’s style was just a simple array of sweatshirts— a piece of clothing the smallest turtle could never EVER have too much of. 

But the tech-y turtle of the family definitely did. Just looking at his side of the shared bedroom, you could see sweatshirts and hoodies galore just scattered everywhere. 

The orange banded mutant looked through the sweatshirts and hoodies, trying to figure out which one he should now claim as his own.

A Sailor Moon hoodie? Too bright. 

An MHA sweatshirt? Too basic. 

An Attack on Titan hoodie? Too edgy. 

The youngest sighed in frustration, digging through his brother’s mountain of clothes before settling on a nice black hoodie with Gojo Satoru on it.

…what? Gojo Satoru was cool! Even though the orange banded turtle had only seen him in TikTok edits…those edit’s were pretty fire.

Just like his plan of taking his brother’s anime merch because he simply just could. 

The orange banded teen looked at himself in the mirror right next to Donnie’s tent, humming the popular yet overused tune that Gojo is associated with to himself, trying (and failing) to do the popular dance. 

“Ugh…how did Donnie do it again…?” The chocolate eyed teen inquired, attempting to do the dance one last time before lightly falling on his shell; the other sweatshirts and hoodies breaking his fall. 

“Dude…” A voice giggled behind him.

Mikey’s eyes widened at the sudden but familiar voice, glancing upwards to lock eyes with the one and only Donatello, peering down at him and smirking. 

“DONNIE!” Mikey shouted in surprise, getting up and whirling around so that he faced his immediate older brother as he tried to look as casual as possible, “Donatello! Dee! Don-bon…what’s…up…?” The youngest grimaced, sending awkward finger-guns as the hood to the hoodie fell down, completely covering his eyes due to how big it was on him. 

The elder snickered, putting a hand over his mouth as he tried to stifle them a little. “Oh shut up…” Mikey huffed, taking the hood off as the other turtle chuckled in amusement again, going to his younger brother and standing right next to him.

“My sweatshirt literally engulfs you.” The turtle that wielded glasses chuckled soflty which only caused the youngest to roll his eyes annoyed at the entire situation. “Shut. Up.” He pouted, crossing his arms as he glared at his older brother, “It looks good on me!”

“It swallows you…” The other said back. 

“I’LL SWALLOW YOU!” Mikey retorted, turning away from his brother angrily. 

The purple loving teen sighed fondly and laughed slightly at the automatic retort, raising a teasing brow at his younger brother, “Are you attempting at trying to look like me~?” 

The orange banded turtle blushed profusely, glaring at the other turtle’s question, “HELL NO.”

“Thehen why do you hahave the hoodie I wear literally everywhere? You know damn well Gojo is my go-to anime character of all time.”

Michelangelo grumbled, looking to the side of him as he swayed his arms at his sides. Okay…well, perhaps out of context it did seem like he was trying to look like Donnie. But he wasn’t. He wasn’t.

The only reason why the youngest “steals” clothes from his brother’s is because…well, he can and it’s easy. And it’s just…sorta comforting in a way. Not the stealing part…but…

Look— it’s dumb and confusing don’t think about it too much. 

The elder teen huffed out a small laugh, “Why did you choose my Gojo Satoru hoodie of all things, though?” 

“…I keep seeing him on TikTok and he’s the only anime character that hasn’t made me cry out of cringe in a way...” 

“Ooookay. Good for you, bud.” Donnie nodded, putting his hand out “Now give it here. Me and the TMLBANOT21stC are meeting later today to have a JJK meeting.”

The chocolate eyed turtle blinked, “Your going to…what…?” 

“My club stands for The Most Logical, Big-minded, Anime Nerds of the 21st century. Duh.” The honey brown eyed mutant said sassily, “Now give me back my hoodie or I’ll be late!” 

Mikey blinked once more, a small cheeky smile plastering on his face, “And what if I don’t want to?” 

“Michaelangelo—“ 

And with that, the smallest turtle ran out of the shared room, moving his legs as fast as he could that the other in the room just saw an orange and green blur sprint past him. 

“MIKEY!!!” Donnie howled angrily, running out of the room to catch up with him. The second youngest bumped in between the two eldest turtles, quickly apologizing to them as he ran after the youngest.

The leader in blue scratched his head confused, “Should we…?”

“Nah.” Raph commented. 

.

.

.

.

.

.

Donnie was internally groaning. If he couldn’t get his hoodie back from his brother in the next 10 minutes he would be late to his own club. 

Imagine that.

…Exactly! You can’t. 

The second youngest looked around the living room, trying to figure out just where his little brother was. In the last couple of years, the honey brown teen didn’t really mind the youngest taking some of his clothes (even if Donnie would’ve preferred him just normally asking).

But Donnie needed this hoodie. More than anything and one way or another he would get it. 

Suddenly…an idea popped into the geniuses brain, smirking widely as he leaned on the wall. He closed the door without stepping outside of the kitchen, still in the room to make it seem like he left. The youngest peeked from behind the couch, him and his brother making immediate eye contact. 

Ha. Got em. 

The anime loving turtle basically lunged at the smaller turtle, sitting on top of him as the other tried to squirm away. “I GOT YOU, YOU LITTLE TURD!” The purple cladded teen smirked triumphantly, crossing his arms and watching amusedly as his little brother tried to escape. 

“Just give me back my hoodie, man. You’re making it seem like I’m asking you for your liver.” 

“YOU DID ONCE!!!” 

“That was for a Bio experiment.” The elder corrected almost immediately, “But that’s not the point just— UGH! Give me my dang hoodie!!!” 

“NO!!!”

The purple banded turtle glared, uncrossing his arms as he wiggled his fingers in the air, “Wanna do this the hard way? Because we can do the hard way, little brother…”

The brown eyed mutant paled, shaking his head back and forth at the question. Well…this didn’t go exactly as planned.

Donnie just scoffed, his hands immediately going for the other’s underarms but Mikey put his arms down, sputtery giggles escaping his mouth as he did so. “P-Plehease! Deehee!”

“Don’t 'plehease Deehee' me! Give back me back my JJK hoodie!”

“BuHUT—“

The elder turtle lost his patience, effortlessly raising the other’s arms as he scribbled his free hand’s fingers all over his underarms. The smallest turtle squawked, falling into loud giggles. He kicked his legs underneath his older brother, “DOHOHON— NOHO!”

“Someone is sensitive here!” Donnie mused.

“STAHAP— I AHAM NAHAT!!”

“You’re not? Not what~? Ticklish~?” The anime loving turtle asked, his smiled widening as he saw how flustered his baby brother was getting. “STAHA— STAHA-! DEEHEE!” Mikey shrieked, “NOHO TEEHEEASING!”

The glasses wielding teen gasped dramatically, “No teasing? You take my hoodie and now you’re telling me what to do?” 

“NONONONO WAH— *squeal* WAHAHAIT!!!”

The tech whiz wasted no time prodding his thumbs on the youngest hips. The brown eyed teen squealed loudly, hugging his middles and just not even trying to stop Donnie’s hands at this point.

The last time he attempted to, his immediate older brother spent the next half an hour scribbling the orange banded teen’s palms…

That was hell in itself and Mikey was not trying to relive that again if he could help it.

“Awe…does this tiiiickle? Is this tickling you~? Maybe that’s cuz you’re reeeaally ticklish here…” 

“IHI— *squeal* QUIHIHIET!” Michelangelo demanded loudly. 

Donnie smiled at the weak retort, kneading the other’s hips harder, “What happened to all that smugness, hm? Where’d it all go, little guy~? Do I have you in a giggly puddle because your tickle tickle ticklish and I’m tickle tickle tickling you~?”

“STAHAHAP *squeal* SAHAHAYING *squeal* THAHAT, AHAHASHOLE!!!”

“Stop saying what~? Tickle? Ticklish—?”

The orange banded teen squealed loudly once more, accidentally cutting his brother off with his teasing. The glasses wielding teen couldn’t help but laugh softly at it, “Awe…look at my baby brother…” Donnie cooed. 

“NAHAHAHA!” The youngest threw his head back in loud laughter as Donnie now tickled the sides of his shell. Mikey arched his back, trying to buck his older brother off of him but Donnie held on easily, continuing to tickle him. 

“PLEHEASE! PLEHEHEASE!!!” 

“'Plehease'? Please what~?”

“JUHUST *squeal* NAHAT *hic* THE SHEHELL!” Mikey despretley cried, turning to his side as other small hiccups followed as the end of the hoodie went up a bit, revealing some of his plastron. 

The honey brown eyed turtle giggled at the perfectly played out action, “Oh…would you look at that~!” He mused, “Last chance to give me back my hoodie, bro.”

The smaller turtle’s eyes widened in realization, looking up at his brother from the corner of his eye, “Yohou *hic* wohohoudn’t…!”

“Oho wouldn’t I~?” Donnie grinned, gently holding Mikey’s waist and blowing multiple upon multiple raspberries on his stomach whilst scribbling his nails on his sides. “DAHAH— *squeal* DAHANNIE!” Mikey cried. 

“Jeez…your mega ticklish here, huh?”

“SHUHUT— GEHET— PLEHEHEASE!!!” The brown eyed teen rambled through his laughs, shaking his head. 

“Why— would— I???” The tech whiz mocked playfully, now blowing raspberries on his little brother’s neck and scribbling his fingers all over his stomach. “NAHAHAT THEHERE!! BROHOHO COHOME OHAHAN!!” The youngest squealed and squeaked. 

Donatello smirked, ceasing his 100% justified attack for a second, “You saying 'nahahat thehere' is genuinely so funny, Mikes. Like, I was going to tickle you here regardless but, hey! Thanks for confirming how badly it tickles for you.”

He resumed his tickling onslaught on his younger brother, the younger brother in question basically falling limp due to how hard he was laughing. The only body parts that were really fighting for his life right now were his legs, that still did not cease desperately kicking the floor. 

The purple banded turtle now started lightly giving ticklish nibbles on his younger brother’s neck as his light scribbles on the smaller turtle’s sides became quick and fast squeezes. “Om nom nom! Hm…you taste like…giggles! And ticklishness~! My favorite food combo!” The elder teased. 

“DEEHEE DEEHEEHEE?! WHAT DOHOES THAHAT EHEHEVEN MEEHEEAN?!?!” Mikey cried desperately, his voice sounding like a tea kettle brewing because of how squeaky and high pitched it was.

“Awe…you haven’t used that nickname for me in ages~! It must tickle that bad, huh?” The glasses wielding turtle cooed.

“IHI *hic* CAHAN’T!”

“You can’t~? Can’t what~?”

“IHIT— *hic* NAHAHAH!” Mikey silently wheezed, throwing his head back as he shut his eyes tight. “Is someone giving me the silent treatment?” Donnie snickered, “Pfft— get it? Cuz you’re laughing silently~? Eh? Eh?”

Okay, even if Mikey was the comedian of the family, he would’ve admitted that was a pretty solid joke if he wasn’t getting slaughtered right now. “FIHINE FIHINE *hic* HAHAVE *hic* IHIHIT BAHACK!!! TAHAKE IHIHIT!! PLEHEASE *hic* JUHUST STAHAHAP *squeal* I’M GOHONNA *squeal* DIHIHIE!!!”

“That would be kiiiiiiiinda funny making your grave honestly.” The tech loving teen smugly said, “Michelangelo Hamato. Reason of death? Being too freaking ticklish.”

“DEEHEEHEE!!!” The youngest cried. Donnie stopped, getting up and laying next to his brother, wrapping him in a side hug which the smaller turtle immediately melted to. “May I plehease hahave my hoodie back?” 

“Ihi juhust sahaid yehehehes!” The orange banded teen groaned, literally throwing the hoodie at his immediate older brother. The anime loving teen smiled, putting on the hoodie as he grinned in triumph. “For real real. I feel like new...” He said to himself proudly. 

And if the youngest knew his brother (which he did), that was probably a quote that that Gojo fellow has said. 

“Oh! And by the way, little bro. My club doesn’t have a meet up today. It’s tomorrow.” Donnie snickered, walking away and leaving Mikey left in complete and utter awe. 

That freaking asshole.

Okay, well now Mikey’s definitely taking that MHA hoodie next year.

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙵𝙸𝙽˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙ 

(𝙿.𝚂.: 𝙸𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚌, 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐!!!)

[r0achezz]

Some linked maze hyrule doodles that I stuck in my sketchbook :) (ignore the helicopter model I didn’t want to manhandle that heavy thing for a simple picture XD)

[telekineticseance]

WORKING MAN

pairing: matt stone x f! assistant reader

summary: another late night at the office (third part to circumstances)

genre: fluff

word count: 1289

cw: legal age gap although nothing happens....yet, reader has a small thought that’s a tad unprofessional

author's note: once again thank y'all so much for the response to the previous two parts. i've really been enjoying writing this fic for y'all. NOW ONTO PART THREE! p.s. i have no idea when a slow burn should stop burning but we will figure it out together.

if you haven't read the first part check it out here: "CIRCUMSTANCES"

Matt laughed at the joke you told him as he sat at his desk and you sat on the same couch from this morning. It was currently almost 3 in the morning and you both were incredibly tired from not getting much sleep from the night before so you both sat up, drinking stale office coffee, waiting for Trey to finish the next scene in the script. Despite Matt's original thought, it did become an all nighter type of night.

Matt let out a sigh as he checked his watch, "You know you can go home whenever. You don't have to hang out with an old man like me." He said while chuckling slightly at you, clicking the keys on his keyboard. You shrugged in response, "I like keeping you company."

You rose from the couch, walking across the room before grabbing the coffee pot and pouring more coffee into your cup, adding sugar and creamer, the creamer you were surprised with one day for late nights like these. Although he denies it, the name written on it was in his hand writing. Small gestures like those were honestly the one thing that gave you that small feeling in your stomach, the one of something may happen. But then he follows it with some logical excuse on how it just makes your job easier or something along those lines.

"What are you thinking about?" You heard the voice come from right behind you as you jumped, dropping the glass, spilling the contents inside. Matt jumped back as well with his eyes widened. "Shit. I didn't mean to scare you."

You shook your head while nervously laughing and grabbing some paper towels to clean up the spill, this wasn't the first time Matt had interrupted your unprofessional thought process, and as much as you hated to admit it, it wouldn't be the last time either. He knelt down next to you, towels in hand as he helped clean up the mess and start gathering the broken pieces to the mug you were holding. While picking up the pieces with him, you felt a sharp pain in your left ring finger, letting out a wince as you looked and noticed a small trickle of blood running down.

"Oh! I'll go get the first aid kit. Uh- go sit on the couch." Matt told you before he got up and ran out of the office, coming back a few minutes later with a small first aid kit in his hand. He walked over to you and knelt down in front of you, "Hold out your hand."

You listened and held out your hand as he opened the box and started to pull out some band aids and some alcohol wipes. He ripped open the alcohol wipe packaging and lightly grabbed onto the palm of your hand with his left, looking up at you. "I'm just gonna clean off the blood okay?" You nodded at him, bracing for impact from the stinging sensation as he lightly applied the wipe onto the cut, wiping it clean. He then reached into the box again, pulling out a small band aid and placing it over the cut.

"There all better." He said, looking up into your eyes. You both held that gaze for a moment, your eyes staring into his green ones. It felt as though the whole world stopped spinning for a minute as time froze, and everything around you seemed to disappear, holding that stare. Matt quickly shook his head slightly while clearing his throat before pulling away from the gaze as he held your hand again, "Feel good?"

You nodded in response, straightening your posture as you adjusted your shirt, trying to play off what just happened. Even though nothing happened. People stare into each others eyes all the time. Eye contact is essential in day to day life. You watched as Matt stood up from his position and walked over to his desk, scratching his fingers in his hair, a habit he did often. He would often play with the hair at the front of his, even though there wasn't too much to play with as he stopped growing it out. Sometimes you went through the thought process of "forgetting" to schedule his hair cuts, just to see what would happen, but knowing Matt he'd probably just go for a walk-in appointment instead.

After taking a deep breath you looked back at Matt, "So is there any update from Trey's end?" The question received a shrug response from Matt as he plopped down in his roller chair, kicking his legs up on the desk, "Nothing yet. When I walked by to get the kit he seemed deep in thought so I didn't want to bother him."

You nodded in response, curling up on the couch, and resting your head on the arm of it. Matt grinned at you slightly before turning to his computer and beginning to work again. You both relaxed in the office with only the clicking of Matt's mouse and keyboard breaking the silence. You pulled out your phone and pointed it in Matt's direction as he glanced over and chuckled while shaking his head, "Don't."

You giggled as you continued holding up the phone with the camera app open, "Don't what? I'm just sitting here." He rolled his eyes playfully at you as he continued glancing over between you and the computer. "Yeah right."

“Come on. Gotta test out the camera on the new phone.” You tease, zooming in slightly on him. He continued to glance, the grin on his face growing wider as he watches you from the corner of his eye, trying to hide his face with his hand. “Matt please.”

He rolls his eyes at you before dropping his hand and making direct eye contact at the camera, causing you to quickly snap the picture. “And I got it in portrait mode.” You tell him, flipping the phone around revealing the photo. He squints looking at the photo from across the room, he really should start wearing his glasses again, as he smiles softly before turning back to the computer and typing some more.

You put the phone down next to you, letting out another soft sigh as you lay back on the couch again. “So uh..I didn’t know you drank.” Matt says softly, turning his attention back to you. You shrug in response, “I…don’t really. Just decided to last night.”

“Do you also not make out with guys in bars?” He asks, raising an eyebrow. You roll your eyes in response before clearing your throat and shrugging your shoulders, “For your information. I don’t. Just felt like it for once.”

He shrugged at your response, “You’re better than that. You deserve better than that.” A small heat rose to your cheeks as you look at him, “What?”

He shook his head, looking back at his computer, “Nothing. Forget it.”

You thought about arguing against him or just leaving the conversation at that because what did he mean? I mean it was a reach if he was talking about himself but as always, that pit in your stomach was telling you otherwise. That pit in your stomach was also wanting him to bend you over the desk and treat you like his own little toy, but that was a different story for a different time.

You opted for leaving him alone as you turned around on the couch and closing your eyes to take a nap. Before you drifted off you heard Matt’s footsteps walk over to you as he placed a blanket over you, moving a strand of hair from your face before he left you alone for the rest of the night.

updated a/n: here's part four :)

[booksanxietyandsports]

Stephan Leyhe/Andreas Wellinger - "Quiet of the night." (fic)

well well well. what do we have here.

right after welle won the first four hills comp in oberstdorf this season i wrote like a thousand words, then completely forgot about it. i just discovered it again and in a lovely case of hyperfixation wrote the rest of it in about an hour, so do with that what you will. better late than never, right?

so as for the timeline, this takes place after andi won the first comp of the 23/24 four hills tournament. for the sake of plot they’re not roommates in this (although we all know they always share, but let’s just pretend they all got single rooms for the tour). even though it’s a rather quick and short one at 2.2k, i hope you guys enjoy it. as always, i’d love to know what you think and appreciate any kind of feedback <3

Knock Knock. 

Stephan turns over in his bed towards the door, sheets tangling with his legs. The room is pitch black when he blinks sleepily, eyes protesting the unscheduled awakening. There’s someone knocking at his door, which isn’t an uncommon occurrence in the team hotel during the tour because someone always wants something, except it’s two at night and they only went to bed like two and a half hours ago. Stephan‘s brain is still muddled with sleep after the adrenaline crash that inevitably always follows a competition, especially one as electrifying as yesterday‘s. So, what on earth-

There‘s a third knock and Stephan squints at the door as someone gently pushes it open, causing a sliver of light from the hallway to spill into the darkness of his room. He can barely make out a silhouette when there‘s a whisper- “Stephan? Are you awake?”

Andreas.

Stephan sits up abruptly, every last trace of sleep gone. “Yeah,” he whispers back, which isn’t true at all given that Andi quite literally just woke him up but he’d rather fling himself off a hill than tell the younger that. It’s not like he minds, anyway, he’s got an open ear for all of his teammates, although maybe it’s a bit different where Andi is concerned. Stephan tries not to think about it.

Andi tiptoes into the room and closes the door behind him. Darkness falls back around them and for a long moment neither of them moves. Stephan looks in Andi’s general direction and waits for him to offer some kind of explanation, to start talking the way he always does without paying any mind to time, company or circumstances. After a full minute goes by without a sound Stephan starts to grow increasingly concerned. “Andi?,” he prompts gently, eyes searching the darkness for any kind of movement. 

“Yeah, uh, sorry. I shouldn’t have woken you up, it’s late, we’ve got training today and it’s stupid anyways, I’ll just-“ 

“Don’t you dare open that door, Andreas. It’s the middle of the night, what’s wrong?” Stephan hears Andi shift on his feet followed by the faint click of the door handle being released. The silence returns as the questions hangs between them, unanswered. Despite the odd situation, Stephan smiles quietly to himself.

“Stop biting your lip, Andi. It’s gonna be all raw and red on camera tomorrow.”

He hears Andi sputter over where he’s still standing by the goddamn door. “I’m not! It’s pitch-black in here, Stephan, you can’t even see me! How would you know that?”

Because I spend most of my time watching you. Because I could paint your face in a thousand different ways if I had just an ounce of talent. 

“Because you always bite your lips bloody when something’s bothering you. Now come on over here and tell me what’s wrong, please.” Stephan sits up straighter as he hears Andi shuffle through the room, leaning against the headboard. The mattress dips beneath him as Andi sits down on the edge of the bed next to his stretched-out legs, which isn’t as close as Stephan would like him, but it’s better than the other side of the room.

He figures this is the moment they should turn on the lamp on his bedside table since they still can’t fucking see, but something about Andi’s behaviour stops him. This isn’t like the younger at all; to be so caught up in his thoughts and feelings that it drives him out of bed in the middle of the night. Maybe it’s got something to do with how young Andi was when he started into the whole world cup circus, but Stephan has always admired how good his teammate seemed to be at compartmentalizing. One problem after the other, brain turned off periodically to rest, then switched back on to work out the issues at maximum capacity and all of that with endless optimism and a quick smile. 

So yeah, the more Stephan thinks about it, the more alarming he finds this entire situation. The least he can do is offer Andi the courtesy of keeping the lights off.

Not that it helps much. He can feel the tension in Andi’s body, every muscle coiled as if he’s preparing to make another jump from the hill. Stephan bends his knees a little, tucking them closer to his body in a silent offer for Andi to lean against them. He takes a deep breath and tries to prompt the younger into talking with an easy question.

“Did you sleep at all?”

Andi sighs. “Uh, not really. I think. Kinda been dozing on and off since we all went to bed but…time hasn’t really felt real tonight anyways. That’s so weird don’t you think?”

“What is?” Stephan’s eyes have adjusted to the darkness enough to make out Andi’s face turned in his direction to look at him, eyes way too wide and awake for this time of night.

“This! Me waking you up at this godawful hour just because, what? I won a competition? Been there done that, it shouldn’t be that big of a deal. And yet here I am and my body just doesn’t- it doesn’t-“ 

Andi cuts himself off with a frustrated sound, dropping his head into his hands and pulling at his hair. “My brain’s not shutting up, Stephan. It wasn’t like that after Lake Placid last season, right? What’s different now?” He’s desperate for an answer, voice breaking on the last word. 

Stephan’s heart breaks a little, too, because Andi sounds tired. Utterly tired; the kind of exhaustion that creeps up on you after an entire evening of adrenaline and endorphins and riding the high of a victory. He puts a hand on Andi’s shoulder and just leaves it there, applying a bit of pressure to let the younger know he’s here. His heart breaks a bit more when Andi leans into the touch, instinctively chasing the comfort. “What’s different, Stephan?” Andi repeats quietly. “This wasn’t my first win since- since everything, and it’s not like it came out of nowhere. It’s been building up for a while, right? I’ve been doing great so far, I feel good, I-“ He stops for a second before dropping his gaze to the ground. “I think I’m scared.”

There it is. Stephan has started to rub soothing circles into Andi’s shoulder and back while the younger was clearly working something out. If there’s one thing Stephan’s learned in all the years he’s spent with Andi, then it’s that sometimes he just needed to rant. They’re different that way, Stephan supposes. Whereas he himself tends to work things out in the relative peace of his mind, Andi needs to voice his concerns. Contact, feedback, the weight of spoken words in a space to be able to see clearly. And if he needs to do that at two in the morning, then so God help him Stephan will be the one that listens. 

“What are you scared of, love?” Stephan asks softly. Andi scoffs. 

“I don’t know. Messing up? Disappointing everyone? It’s like…it’s like this victory comes with a price tag, you know? With conditions. The last few years nobody expected anything. I was the Olympic champion with the tragic injury, so getting back on track was the only task I had and nobody cared when I messed up. Every good jump was a bonus. But now people keep saying I’m back and then I went ahead and won the first comp of the tournament and now-“ 

“-now everyone expects you to win the rest as well.” 

Andi deflates the second Stephan speaks the words out loud. His head drops forward, messy hair tickling Stephan’s arm. The older carefully moves his hand from Andi’s shoulder to his scalp, gently carding his fingers through the unruly strands. “I don’t know if I can do it,” Andi whispers after a few seconds of silence and lifts his head to look right at Stephan, eyes desperately searching for answers. Stephan holds his gaze.

“Listen, Andi. You don’t owe anyone anything – not the fans, not our coaches, not us. The only thing you owe yourself is to enjoy competitions like yesterday’s since you went so long without them despite always trying your fucking best. What you do is enough, Andreas. Every jump you pour your heart and soul into is enough, no matter where you rank in the end. This victory isn’t worth more than the one in Lake Placid just because it’s got Four Hills written all over it, alright? You could’ve given up long before you ever reached where you’re at today, but you never did. That alone matters more than whatever happens in the next few days. Because I know for a fact that you will fight for every point and if that’s not enough, then that’s not on you. I believe in you and so do the team and the fans and whoever measures your talent and worth by whether you win this damn tournament or not can go fuck right off.”

He inhales sharply after his monologue, which was admittedly longer than he’d planned. Andi stares at him, eyes wide and mouth open. 

“Uh, so” Stephan finishes eloquently. “You know. Don’t worry too much.” He shuts his eyes briefly, cringing at himself internally. Way to ruin this, Stephan. You’re doing fantastic.

He looks back up when Andi snorts and dissolves into quiet laughter. He can feel a smile fighting its way onto his own lips because honestly, no one is immune to the sound of Andi Wellinger’s joy. It’s even sweeter when Stephan’s the reason for it. 

Andi’s voice is breathless when he teases Stephan. “You say all that and end it with ‘don’t worry too much’? Really?”

“Well excuse me,” Stephan retorts, untangling his hand from Andi’s hair to put it on his own chest in mock offense. “I apologise for running out of sensible things to say in the middle of the night. If you’d like to register a complaint, I’m gonna have to ask you to do it at a reasonable hour.”

Andi giggles again, wiping his eyes with his hands. He looks back at Stephan then, tilting his head in such an adorable way that Stephan’s heart skips a beat or three. The silence stretches on for a while, the mood turning serious once more as Stephan practically sees Andi going over his words in his head. 

One of us is gonna have to say something because if it gets any quieter, he’ll hear how loud my heart is beating. 

Yet Stephan doesn’t break the fragile silence. Andi doesn’t, either. Instead, the younger shifts, turning to face Stephan properly with one leg folded under him while the other hangs off the bed, and pulls the older forward into a hug.

Oh.

Stephan wraps his arms around Andi’s waist instinctively because that’s just what his body is wired to do at this point. They’re usually in an outrun when this happens, but right now, as Andi is tightening his arms around Stephan’s shoulders and hiding his face in the older’s neck, Stephan would gladly never see an outrun again if it meant he could stay right here for the rest of his life.

They hug in a way that’s only really acceptable in the tranquility of the night, when the sole witness is the moon and the darkness swallows the thoughts of any consequences a touch like this might have. Time passes and while Stephan doesn’t know if it’s seconds or minutes or hours, he never eases the pressure around Andi’s slim waist. He’s unconsciously started to rub circles into the dip of it with his thumb and he doesn’t stop when he notices. Andi’s breathing is quiet and steady against the side of his neck. Stephan can’t help but smile when the tension finally bleeds out of the younger’s body. 

“Did you mean it?” Andi asks after a while, voice little more than a whisper. “What exactly?” Stephan whispers back just as softly, tucking the other impossibly closer. Andi makes the transition with ease, laying almost entirely on top of Stephan, face still hidden against his shoulder. “Everything. That I owe my victories to no one but myself. That you-,” he clears his throat, a bit awkwardly. “That you believe in me?” 

It comes out like a question and something in Stephan’s chest cracks a little when he hears it. Impulsively, he turns his head to press a soft kiss into Andi’s hair. “Of course I do, love. Never stopped. And I always will, no matter how the tour ends.”

Andi exhales then, a bit shakily but Stephan can feel him settle. He removes one arm from around Stephan to search for Stephan’s hand in the dark and holds on tight when he finds it. Stephan squeezes back, interlacing their fingers. Through it he takes everything Andi gives him; all the doubts and thoughts and uncertainty that overwhelm Andi’s infinite optimism only in the shadows of the night. Stephan knows that when the sun rises in a few hours, it’ll be like the clouds in Andi’s head never existed at all, because that’s just how he works. Stephan wouldn’t want to have it any other way. 

Until that happens, he holds on tight to the boy in his arms. 

Andi doesn’t go back to his own room that night. 

[rcthelizardking]

he’s on his way to FUCK ME

[leclerced]

max is my ride or die i got into f1 a carlos girlie but i’m a max girlie for now and forever. he’s just so!!! i saw a picture of him out in public a couple weeks ago (never in my life have i seen an advertisement for f1 or like, brand sponsorships with drivers in my country) and i giggled so much i had to be dragged away im so unnormal about him (kinda weird now that i think about it but oh well im just a girl).

you know how there’s the whole scenarios of “fucking the english out of someone”. that but max fucking the dutch into his girl where he’ll only let her come if she’s spoken to him in dutch yeah i need him so bad

- 🌙

no its ok i buy redbull bc of him so i can get the cans w him on it 🤭 im only a girl. its good for the economy.

crying that’s a max thing to do and he would tauntingly say whatever he wanted her to repeat back to him until she did, every time she begs, he repeats the same dutch phrase back to her or says he can’t understand her until she finally says it and she can’t stop saying it

[sweebat]

THE BOXERS ARE FINALLY BATTLIN!!!! (ง'̀-'́)ง

Alito is one of those humans that I never could draw correctly and kinda gave up after failing a bunch of times :<

But with new burning knucklers support announced, I just had to give my special boy and his battlin’ boys another go. I think it turned out well for my first attempt at hooman alito in ages. So excited for the cards I love him <3<3<3

I had to rush near the end with nova kaiser and it’s cxyz because I have to get on to my next job and wanted this out by this weekend. Hopefully he doesn’t look too sloppy :<

[breadwithoutcheesefan1009]

I keep keeping michie hate posts on my dash and would like to say something:

I totally agree with people disliking the bully/victim trope and the power dynamics that it brings to the front. I also usually dislike things like this and am fully intending to give Max a redemption arc unconnected to Richie!

However, I do think there’s a bit of misunderstanding as well. Many michie fics I’ve read (and let’s be honest, I’ve read basically all of them atp) people have given Max a redemption arc! (Yes, most of them are rushed or slightly unrealistic, but also I’ve no idea what a near death experience would do to someone mentally so 🤷‍♀️)

So yes, bully/victim is/can be a very problematic ship but given the crumbs (and I do mean crumbs) from canon Jägerman I think us michie shippers should just be left alone to our ship, no hate.

Im not trying to start an argument or make an argument or anything like that, please believe me. I’ve just seen a couple of posts and want to give my two cents. I respect people not like it the ship! Y’all do y’all, I’m not stopping you. Just maybe let us do us with this one.

(Yes, I do realize there are problematic fics in the tag! Yes, I realize that there wasn’t *that* much for them in canon! I have been thinking abt this for a while!)

[makotoismyson]

ayo why SPECTRA Chai kinda…😳

[dogramagra-and-destruction]

OOC: hey guys I’m not doing so great rn so I won’t be online for the rest of tonight and maybe tomorrow

love yall stay safe

[acesammy]

Idk I’m just thinking about how chuck started as a stand-in for kripke, and de facto the writers on whole. Meaning that every plot contrivance from the writers really was an act of god in the canon of the show itself..

as much as I really don’t feel that strongly on the finale one way or the other, they reaaally should’ve ended the show with 15x19 because if chuck is no longer writing their story for his own amusement we as an audience should also not have access to the story for ours. Like they should’ve been able to completely break free of the narrative both in and out of canon. I think that’d’ve been cool

[godheadjones]

fic of Jughead and Tabitha where Tabitha maybe burns her hand on a hot stove or other kitchen item and Jughead heals her up

“Ouch!”

Jughead snaps his attention to his girlfriend, who’s clutching her hand and wincing in pain. He hurries toward her, grabbing her shoulder and gently turning her to face him. “Tabitha, are you okay?”

She nods, but he grabs her hand nonetheless, gingerly holding onto her. “Just a burn. I deal with them all the time at Pop’s. It’s no big deal.”

“I can clearly tell that you need help,” Jughead states, tracing the area around the burn with his thumb carefully. “I’ll get the bandages.” 

He releases his grip after moving her to the dining table and placing her hand on the surface top. He quickly steps back into the kitchen to turn off the stove, waving his hand over the stovetop to make sure that it is in fact off. 

Once the stove is off, Jughead walks over to the bathroom, opening the mirror and reaching for the first aid kit. 

He hates to see Tabitha in any pain. She didn’t get hurt too much but sometimes, on rare occasions like this one, she would. She doesn’t talk about it when she is hurt, and Jughead usually has to pry it out of her, but she talks in the end, and he’s always there to support her.

Once he’s retrieved the first aid kit, he makes his way back to her and opens the kit. “This might sting a little,” he warns, although he’s sure she already knows.

With a wet cloth, Jughead dabs at the red mark on her hand. Tabitha releases a sharp breath. “Hey, it’s okay. Just breathe,” he comforts, moving extra carefully now. 

She nods, still exhaling a few painful breaths but she calms herself. 

“How’d you burn yourself anyway? You’re always so careful,” he asks, finishing up with the first step and pulling out bandages from the first aid kit. 

Tabitha keeps her hand out and lifts it up so he can wrap it. “My hand slipped while I was wiping the stove down.”

Jughead smiles. “When did you get so clumsy?” he teases, the burn now fully covered. 

“Shut up, Jones.” 

He looks up to see her smiling, and he can tell that her mood has somewhat lightened up. “Okay. You’re all good now.” 

Tabitha moves her hand towards herself and covers the bandage with her free hand. “Thank you, Jughead,” she says softly. 

He leans forward to cup her face. "Of course, Tabs." It's all he can do to show his support now, let her know that he'll always have her back when she needs it, from the simplest things to the complicated ones. He just wants to be there for her, to hold her when she was hurting, comfort her as much as he can.

Jughead pulls her in for a quick kiss, which she returns softly. When they pull apart, Tabitha picks up her lips into a smile. “I’m guessing I’m off kitchen duty until this heals?”