#drummer!james

[resident-gay-bitch]

bro, i was just listening to metallica’s seek and destroy on the drive home from work and a tinsy little thought popped into my head and now my brain in invaded by the absolute brilliant idea of the marauders band au.

like, here:

sirius: he’s lead like hetfeild on vocals and guitar - desired by men and women alike - much like damino from måneskin - he’s the heartthrob

remus: lead guitar - also desired by men and women alike but he’s more quiet and reserved - but he playes with heart and soul and i’m getting thomas from måneskin vibes - he’s the mysterious one

james: he’s the drummer because he’s got the muscle for it - also desired by men and women alike obviously but he’s only got eyes for one - litteraly puts his heart and sole into hitting those drums and breaks so many goddamned sticks it’s a wonder how he doesn’t run out - he’s the odd one out too, he’s a little rat if fucking sunshine and everyone finds him adorable

lily: she’s on bass and it’s major vic from måneskin vibes - everyone wants her but she just looks at the ladies - she’s also very close with remus and all the super hetero followers believe they’re doing it but they most certainly are not - she looks like the craziest one of all of them but in reality she has the clearest head.

i’m picturing they’re a metal band too, and they also drabble in punk rock and similar genres. they always match outfits and involve the crowd in the coolest ways. sirius’s idol is freddie, so he pays ode to him most concerts. remus extremely admires bowie so they have a bunch of covers of his songs and sometimes come out with red and blue lighting incoperated into their fits.

there is major tension between sirius and remus on stage. often remus does backup vocals so they’ll lean into the same microphone and be so close there’s no hetero explanation for it (like the arctic monkeys video- you know the one), and when remus is soloing and sirius is doing rhythm during the instrumental, remus will be like pushing against his guitar with his pelvis and sirius will walk up and do the same and it’s just so gay.

lily will get down in the crowd, crowd surf and run around the stage like she’s on crack and the audience loves it. shell also get up in all of their spaces, she’ll come play behind james, bump hips with sirius, and play back to back with remus - but she goes to remus the most. she also has a tendency to smash her guitars every so often at the end of a show (but don’t worry, it’s only if they’re already damaged from excessive use and being tossed around by roadies and shit).

james, oh sweet james. he always has a big smile and wave for the crowd and will stand up at his kit sometimes - he’ll play into the hot muscle man thing he has going and will skull water and let it drip down his front and he’ll wink at the crowd (but only the band knows he’s doing it in an attempt to impress and fluster regulus who is either side stage or watching live at home) (it works every time). he also goes a little crazy and gets too much inspiration from tommy lee.

and yes, after a big show in vagas, they all woke up with wedding rings on their fingers and they have no idea who married who.

AHHH i have so many wips but i wanna write it so baddddddddd!

[thiswildernessismyhome]

the expanse + ao3tagsbot

[downbadfordraper]

Expanse Text Posts 3/?

[delicatebarness]

if walls could talk

Summary: Tension between you grows as your secret relationship adds a thrill to your pre-show warm-up. You and Bucky, the band's bassist and drummer, steal a passionate, heated moment backstage.

Warning: Explicit Sexual Content- Under 18s DNI. Public Sex. Exhibitionism.

Word Count: 1303

The Tour Setlist | Support: Ko-FI

Edit A/N: This is now a stand alone. It did not get picked up from Prologue Season this time round 🥺🫣 Hopefully these two make a comeback.

A/N: Oh look another prologue for 'Prologue Season'. This one is just pure smut, I won't lie. Also, the tour setlist is all 5 Seconds of Summer songs, that’s the kinda vibe I have for the band. - Please feel free to leave feedback or let me know where and how you want the story to continue, this is just as much yours as mine. - B

If Walls Could Talk: @inlovewith505 | @justaspeachy | If you would like to be tagged, let me know.

Everything: @hallecarey1 | @pattiemac1 | @uhmellamoanna | @scraftsku35 | @ozwriterchick | @sapphirebarnes | @rach2602 | @thetorturedbuckydepartment | @lanabuckybarnes

Lost beneath the muffled roar of the crowd, the door of your dressing room slammed behind you. Imagining the pulsing light, thundering bass, and the crowd screaming, you became high on adrenaline. But now, your mind was elsewhere as Bucky was already on you. 

Grabbing your waist, he pulled you into him before you could say a word. As he pressed you against the door, your skirt rode up and his lips crashed down on yours. You moaned into his mouth, and your hands gripped the fabric of his shirt. 

“Fuck baby, you look good,” Bucky growls against your lips while sliding a hand under your skirt, his fingers brushing the waistband of your pants. 

With a smirk, you pushed back against him. “You like the pink Docs, huh?” you teased, lifting one leg and wrapping it around his hip. Your thigh pressed against the bulge in his jeans. 

He grunts, curving his lips into a grin as his other hand trails higher up your thigh. “You know I do.” 

You deliberately picked out tonight’s outfit– a black skater skirt, a ripped band tee from his favorite band, and the bubblegum pink Doc Martens that always drove him crazy.  When you put it on, you knew exactly what you were doing. And so did he. Bucky never could resist when you dressed like this.

Tugging his hair, you pulled him into another kiss, only messier this time. Your tongues slide against each other, and his rough, calloused hands cupped your ass. He dug his fingers into your skin causing a gasp to escape your lips.

“We don’t have time,” you whispered, trying to convince yourself more than him as your hips ground against him, the heat pooling between your legs. He was hard and insistent, and it only made the need for him burn hotter within you.

“We’ll make time,” he smirked, pushing your pants aside and sliding two fingers between your folds. A low chuckle escaped his lips as he felt your wetness. The anticipation for this exact moment had built up since the second you stepped into the dressing room. As his lips found your neck, he pressed his thumb against your clit, rubbing slow and delicate circles, making your head fall back against the door. 

You tried to stay quiet, biting your lip, but it was impossible as he slid inside you, curling just right. You gripped onto his shoulders, digging your nails into the skin that was slightly exposed as he moved his hand faster. You struggled to stay on your feet as his teeth grazed against your skin, biting down lightly. 

“Buck–” you breathed, barely able to form words as his fingers moved relentlessly. “I’m gonna–” 

Just then, a knock on the door came, moments before you were about to lose it. 

“We don’t want to know what’s going on in there, but you better wrap it up!” Sam’s voice echoed through the door, soon followed by Steve’s laugh. 

Bucky grinned against your neck, refusing to stop. His fingers pumped faster into you, his thumb rubbed harder against your clit, and the moans, loud enough to make you blush, slip from your lips. Bucky slaps a hand over your mouth, your eyes grow wide staring up at him, but the bastard just smirks as he leans down to whisper in your ear. 

“You wanna finish for me, baby?” His voice was taunting, sending a fresh wave of arousal through you. “Don’t hold back. Come for me, right now.” 

His fingers pushed you over the edge, and you tried to keep quiet as your body began to tremble with the orgasm ripping through you. You bit down hard on the hand muffling your cries, and your legs shook as the pleasure washed over you in hot, pulsing waves. Bucky’s eyes locked on yours, he watched every second as his expression switched to one more dark and possessive. He slowed his movements, drawing out every last bit of your release. 

He pulled his fingers out and began undoing his belt, and before you could catch your breath, he yanked his jeans down just enough to free himself. The sight of him made your already tingling body shiver. 

“Turn around,” he ordered, his rough voice leaving no room for argument. 

Doing as he said, you turned using your hands to brace against the door. He hiked your skirt up around your hips as he tore open a condom. Then, in one swift movement, he was inside you, slamming into you with one hard thrust. You gasped, digging your nails into the wood of the door. 

“You feel so good, baby,” he groaned, gripping your hips as started to move, fast and rough. Desperate for more of him, you pushed back against him as your cheek pressed against the door to try and keep quiet. The wetness between your legs, his body slapping against yours, and the sounds of the distant roar of the crowd, all blurred together in the haze of heat. 

You could barely keep up with Bucky’s brutal pace, your body pinned against the door as he fucked you like he couldn’t get enough. He tightened his grip on your hips, digging fingers into your skin, bound to leave bruising, but you didn’t care. You wanted it– needed it.

Sam and Steve were talking outside, but it was just noise to you, backgrounding the way Bucky’s cock filled you, stretched you, and made you see the stars with each thrust. Your body coiled tight, as you were ready to snap.

“I’m close, Bucky,” you pant, pushing back, desperate to reach another high.

“Oh yeah? You wanna come again, baby?” he groaned, leaning over you and slipping a hand between your legs, rubbing your clit in rough, tight circles. “Do it. Come for me.” 

That was all you needed. 

You cried out, your second orgasm hitting you like a freight train. The pleasure tore through you, nails scratching against the door as you rode out the wave, your body shaking. Bucky thrust harder, faster, his movement becoming erratic as he chased his own release. It wasn’t long before you felt him tense behind you, and a low rumbling came from his chest as he slammed into you once last time, spilling into the condom as his cock twitched against you.

The air in the room was thick with the smell of sex, and for a short moment, it was just the two of you, panting and tangled together. You tried to steady your breathing while he rested his forehead against your back. 

But then, another knock. Only this time, louder.

“I swear to god if you’re still in there–” It was Steve’s voice this time, it was clear he was running out of patience. 

You glanced back at Bucky, and despite everything, you both burst into laughter. After pulling out of you, he quickly disposed of the condom as you fixed your skirt, and smoothed out your hair with shaky hands. Your heart continued to race, the rush of what happened left you feeling exhilarated, and more alive than ever. 

Bucky gave you a playful smack on the ass as he opened the door, smirking toward Sam and Steve. “Relax, we’re ready.” 

“You two are going to be the death of me,” Steve crossed his arms, giving you both his disapproving look. Sam just shook his head, a grin plastered across his face. 

You couldn’t help but blush as Bucky shrugged unapologetically. Grabbing your bass, the familiar weight grounded you as you slung it over your shoulder. Bucky walked beside you as the four of you moved toward the stage, excitement from the crowds vibrated through the walls. But, all you could think about was the way his hand gently brushed against yours, your little secret still burning between you.

[luveline]

Hey! Can you do something for rockstar!james x photographer!reader??

for you!!

You're standing behind a barricade and it's so fucking cold you could cry, but you have a job to do and no time to go back and get your jacket. Your arms are tired with the fatigue that comes with carrying your camera and its expensive lens around all day. 

At least you'll be paid well. And you get to see celebrities for the evening, picture perfect, handsome and gorgeous and famous enough that your breath catches when they stop for photos no matter how many times you've photographed some of them before. 

"Sirius!" The photographer next to you calls. "This way! Smile for us!" 

You follow the shouting and wait for the face connected to the name to smile. Sirius Black, front man of potentially the most famous indie band in Britain currently, poses without really posing. He's effortless. 

James Potter walks beside him. He seems more genuine, which isn't to say Sirius Black is fake, but James smiles at the photographers like he knows them. His gaze locks in on you for a second and you can't help the schoolgirl chills that race down your spine. He's breathtakingly handsome, brown skin glowing under the bright lights above, his hair glossy and curled as if each individual ringlet has been held and twisted in the hand of an angel. He's ridiculous in how pretty he is, truly.

Without thinking, you say something unlike yourself. Photographers are allowed to compliment the people they're shooting, but it feels clumsy on your tongue. "Hey, James," you call, not too loudly, almost hoping it'll get lost in the crowd, "smile for Getty, handsome." 

James doesn't hesitate to turn to you and smile. You take a photo, not your best, and drop your camera away from your eye. You give him your most genuine smile, hoping he thinks you're pretty (stupidly) while knowing you look ragged. 

"Thank you," you say. 

"You're welcome," James says, making a small hand gesture to Sirius. He approaches you, to the annoyance of the other photographers. "Hey, we've met before, haven't we?" 

"Yeah, we have, I take photos at all the events like this one. Where's Mr. Lupin?" 

"Mr. Lupin?" he asks, smiling. "Mr. Lupin's ill. He'll be alright." 

"It feels strange to call you by your first name, not knowing you." 

"You just called me James. And handsome, if I heard correctly." 

Your heart amps suddenly into racing speeds, as though only now realising that you're having a conversation with James Potter, and that he's grinning at you like you're friends, or better. "Sorry," you say. 

"So you take it back?" he asks, smile wavering. 

"Of course not, you're more than handsome, I– but I– I'm not trying to cat-call you." 

James' pretty smile moves back into place. He pushes his glasses back up the length of his strong nose with his marriage finger, and the blazer he wears bulges against his arm muscles from the movement. Your hands start to shake —you're a photographer, meant to take photos, not interview the talent. You have no idea what to say to him, worse, you've no idea why he's talking to you. 

"Are you cold?" he asks worriedly. 

"Wha– no, not really," you say. 

"Are you sure? You can have my jacket, shortcake, it's no trouble."

"It is trouble? You're about to be on TV," you say. 

James shoves his hands into his pockets. "I can sacrifice my TV appearances for the sake of a very cold looking, very pretty girl. It's selfish, really," he reassures you, "I like being complimented. I want you at the next event to do that again, not in hospital recovering from hypothermia." 

"James, can you stop flirting for five minutes?" Sirius asks. 

James nods at you apologetically and you take it for a farewell, catching up with his bandmate to ascend the stairs into the venue. The night moves forward slowly, taking photos of more celebrities, none as handsome and flirty. You're stopped short by a man in a tuxedo who looks like the servers from inside the show.

"Hi, this is for you," he says. 

You frown. "Are you sure?" 

"I was told to give it to the cold-looking photographer with a blue lanyard. You look cold." 

It's a hoodie. It's Marauders merchandise, a black hoodie in your size with a monogrammed drum set over the breast. You slip into it and worry it's a consolation present; maybe he'd thought you were a fan. 

It's not until you slip your icy fingers into the pockets and pull out a slip of paper you realise otherwise. 

Gorgeous, shivering photographer, 

Please ring me. I'm not above begging. I'd really like to see that photo. Love, James. 

P.S. I'm not kidding, (unless you don't really think I'm handsome and were extending some professional chivalry as Sirius thinks, then please ignore this) call me! :3 <3 

Your hands shake for the rest of the evening, despite the warmth of your new hoodie.

[yumyumpod]

[jimsbeetroot]

Hello dear! how are you? hope ok <3 i really love your writing and would love to ask you for a smut request (only if you want) i would like it to be an imagine of joey finding y/n masturbating and moaning his name, only if you want you can add sex rough and maybe degradation. take your time <3 please and thank you 💗

𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐢 𝐜𝐚𝐧 ♱ 𝐣𝐨𝐞𝐲 𝐣𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐧

love this! thank you for the request!!

warnings! smut, smut and very much smut! rough sex! degradation, punishment, fingering and so much more

summary; joey teaches reader a lesson for thinking she could do better than him

words; 1569

-

IT WAS LATE, and the house was too quiet. Joey wouldn’t be home for at least another hour, but you couldn’t wait any longer. The need had been building all day, a slow, simmering burn that you’d tried to ignore, but it was impossible to deny. Your body ached with longing, a desire that only he could satisfy, but he wasn’t here.

Your fingers itched to touch, to find some relief, and before you knew it, you were naked on your bed, your hand between your legs, searching for the pleasure, the one only he could give you.

Your mind was filled with thoughts of Joey—his hands, his mouth, the way he commanded every inch of your body when you were together.

Your fingers moved in desperate strokes, slick with arousal, and you couldn’t stop the soft moans that slipped from your lips, his name on your tongue like a prayer.

“Joey,” you whispered, the sound of it spurring you on as you dipped your fingers deeper, chasing the release that teased at the edges of your consciousness. Your back arched off the mattress, your breath hitching as you imagined him here, hovering over you, his intense eyes locked on yours, his voice rough and possessive as he told you how much he wanted you.

But no matter how much you tried, no matter how fast or slow your fingers moved, it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t him. Your frustration grew, a whimper of desperation escaping your lips. You needed him. God, you needed him so badly.

Lost in your own world, you didn’t hear the front door open, didn’t hear the sound of his footsteps coming up the stairs. All you could focus on was the growing ache between your thighs, the pressure building, and how close you were—so close—when suddenly, a voice cut through the haze of your desire like a knife.

“Enjoying yourself, kitten?”

Your eyes flew open, heart lurching in your chest as you turned your head to find Joey standing in the doorway, his expression dark and dangerous. The shock of being caught was like ice water on your skin, and you froze, your hand still buried between your legs.

“Joey,” you gasped, scrambling to sit up, but before you could move, he was there, his hand wrapping around your wrist in a bruising grip as he yanked your fingers out of your pussy.

“I asked you a question,” he growled, his voice low and menacing. “Were you enjoying yourself, kitten? Did you think you could get off without me?”

“I—I wasn’t—” You stammered, but the words caught in your throat as he brought your wet fingers to his mouth, his tongue flicking out to taste you. The sight of it sent a fresh wave of arousal through you, but there was no mistaking the anger in his eyes, the tension in his grip. He wasn’t pleased.

“You weren’t what?” he mocked, his eyes never leaving yours. “Weren’t thinking about me while you touched yourself? Weren’t moaning my name like a needy little slut?”

His words hit you like a blow, sharp and cutting, and you felt the sting of tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. “I was thinking about you,” you whispered, voice trembling. “I couldn’t wait, Joey. I needed you, but you weren’t here, and I—”

“So, you thought you could just take care of it yourself?” he cut you off, his tone dripping with disdain. “You think you can do a better job than me, kitten? Is that it?”

“No!” You shook your head frantically, desperate to make him understand. “No, Joey, I didn’t mean—”

“Shut up.” The command was harsh, and you obeyed instantly, your breath catching in your throat. His hand tightened around your wrist, his other hand coming up to grip your chin, forcing you to look at him. His eyes were dark, filled with a possessiveness that sent a shiver down your spine. “You don’t get to touch yourself without my permission. You don’t get to come without me. Do you understand?”

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest, the weight of his dominance pressing down on you in a way that made your pulse race with equal parts fear and excitement. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

“Sorry isn’t good enough, kitten,” Joey snarled, his gaze piercing as he released your chin and shoved you back onto the bed. “I’m going to teach you a lesson. A lesson you won’t forget.”

You barely had time to register his words before he grabbed your legs, spreading them wide as he settled between your thighs. His eyes were locked on your exposed, glistening cunt, and the intensity of his gaze made your breath hitch in your throat. He replaced your fingers with his. You gasped at the sensation. Joey leaned down between your legs and grabbed on to your thighs, holding them spread apart. You whimpered when he blew on your sensitive skin, the hair on your neck standing up. He worked roughly, leaving no time for you to adjust or get into his rhythm. He merely plunged his two fingers in and out of you so fast, that you weren't quite sure, as to what was happening anymore. You hissed and groaned, using the pillow beside you to muffle your screams. “You were so horny, for this weren't you? Couldn't even wait a day for my fingers, could you?” Joey taunted and looked up at you with a devilish grin. He suddenly retrieved his fingers from your cunt and for the first time ever, you were almost relieved. He’d been so fast, so brutal with your cunt that it was nearly aching.

You were taken aback by his fury. You’d expected him to be flattered, but he was seeing red.

“You think you can do a better job than me?” he hummed, his voice low and dangerous.

Joey stood up and fumbled with his jeans, the chains clinging together as he dropped them to the ground. He took a step towards the edge of the bed and leaned down, positioning himself on his knees. He leaned over and grabbed a hold of your ankles, pulling at them roughly towards him, so that you were perfectly aligned in front of him. Your heart raced as Joey pulled his hard cock out of his boxers. He positioned himself between your thighs, his eyes dark with intent as he stared down at your exposed, glistening pussy. You were so wet, so ready for him, but he wasn’t going to make this easy for you. Not after what you’d done.

“Let’s see how much you can handle, kitten.”

Before you could respond, he slammed into you with one brutal thrust, burying himself to the hilt. The force of it knocked the breath from your lungs, and you cried out, your back arching off the mattress as the sudden intrusion stretched you wide. Joey didn’t give you a moment to adjust, didn’t offer you any reprieve as he set a punishing pace, each thrust deep and unrelenting.

“Is this what you wanted?” Joey growled, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise as he drove into you with merciless force. “You wanted to get fucked, didn’t you, kitten? You couldn’t wait for me, so you had to do it yourself. You had to touch yourself like a dirty little whore.”

His one hand travelled up to pinch your nipple and the pain made you gasp.

His words cut deep, but they only fueled the fire burning inside you. You were helpless beneath him, overwhelmed by the intensity of his thrusts, the roughness of his grip, but it was everything you craved. Your body responded to his dominance, the sting of his degrading words only pushing you closer to the edge.

“Tell me how much you need me,” Joey demanded, his voice sharp and commanding. “Tell me you can’t get off without me, kitten.”

“I can’t,” you gasped, tears streaming down your cheeks as your nails dug into the sheets. “I can’t, Joey. I need you. I need you so bad.”

“That’s right,” he growled, his hand wrapping around your throat, squeezing just enough to make your breath hitch, to make your head spin with a dizzying mix of fear and pleasure. “You belong to me, kitten. Every part of you is mine. No one else can make you feel this way. No one else can fuck you like I can.”

A whimper escaped your lips as his grip tightened, his thrusts growing even more intense, each one driving you closer to the brink. The heat pooled low in your belly, the pressure building to an almost unbearable peak, and you knew you were close—so close—but you wouldn’t let yourself fall until he gave you permission. Until he told you you could.

“You’re going to come for me, kitten,” Joey hissed, his voice rough with his own impending release. “But only when I say so. Only when I give you permission. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” you choked out, your vision blurring as you teetered on the edge of oblivion. “Please, Joey, I need to come. Please let me come.”

His grip on your throat tightened even more, cutting off your air, making your head swim as he leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear. “Come for me, kitten. Now.”

The command sent you spiraling over the edge. With a choked cry, your body convulsed beneath him, your orgasm crashing over you with a force that left you trembling, every nerve ending alight with pleasure. Your walls clenched tight around his cock, pulling him deeper, and Joey groaned, his release following yours as he buried himself to the hilt, his warmth flooding you.

For a long moment, you were both lost in the aftermath, your bodies still shaking, hearts pounding in unison as you lay there, tangled together on the bed. You could feel the rapid beat of his heart against your chest, the heavy rise and fall of his breath as he slowly came down from his high.

Finally, Joey pulled out of you, rolling onto his side as he gathered you into his arms, his demeanor softening as he held you close. He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, his fingers brushing through your hair as he murmured, “Good girl, kitten. That’s what I like to hear.”

You snuggled into his chest, your body still quivering from the intensity of it all, but there was a deep sense of satisfaction, of comfort in the way he held you, in the warmth of his embrace. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice small and shaky.

Joey kissed the top of your head, his lips lingering there for a moment before he spoke, his voice a soft rumble against my hair. “You’re forgiven, kitten. But remember, you don’t need to do that on your own. I’ll always be here to take care of you.”

His words soothed the last remnants of your fear, replacing it with a warmth that spread through your chest

[girlsaturday]

[rocicrew]

#all their problems were solved because drummer finally pegged hold-[gunshot]

[ei-encora]

i needed to draw some non-descript earlier era of pickles with short hair or else i was gonna go fucking crazy

[forgotn1]

I've been watching the Expanse for the first time over the last couple of weeks. Just finished episode three of season six and holy shit, it's so good. Easily one of the best sci-fi series ever produced. I'm just disappointed they didn't do the last three books and truncated the sixth season. One of this show's strengths was its pacing and how it was able to tell a compelling story while also doing incredibly deep and brilliant worldbuilding.

The Belter society is amazing, especially the Belter Creole they speak. Which was invented and fleshed out specifically for this show. I love how it parallels the poor and working class here in our world and the exploitation they face. It's brilliant how they give us so many different versions of what their fight for recognition and independence looks like, each with its own unique benefits and flaws.

I think Camina Drummer is my favorite character. I love her strength and fierce loyalty. Her and Naomi definitely dated while she was on the Behemoth. Amos is another fave. I get really strong autistic vibes from him, but a lot of it could also be how he deals with the immense trauma from his childhood. Which is also one of the most interesting and heartbreaking backstories in the show.

There's so much more I could get into to that makes it so great. Like everything that is Chrisjen Avasarala. Or Bobbie's escape on Earth and how it showed Earth wasn't all rich people day drinking. Or the freaking protomolecule! But I think I've rambled enough. lol

[sarahshoots1st]

[moonlight-taylor]

y'all are gonna hate me lol

@sid-0 @joeynumbr1 @pig-covered-in-grayblood @f3hn1s @jroot04 @number5craig @sevenguitar @t8yl0r-8

[dolly-macabre]

Have some metallinickles 🤪😎

[ive-fallen-and-i-cannot-get-up]

i genuinely can’t handle this cast why do they all look so gorgeous

[ghost-37]

It Takes a Nation of Millions to Hold Us Back!