#shoutout william no one likes him!!!!

[shalpilot]

THE PRONOUNS SQUAD

[soupmanspeaks]

something something headcanon Michael wrote a good amount of the Fnaf songs as a way of coping with the horrors™️ so like in his handy dandy notebook, right next to his plans of arson and vivid drawings of nightmares, it reads "I can see you there, warmth and life, why don't you share, it's been many years, stuck here living with out fears-" and it doubles as Michael trying to categorize all the information he's learnt and helping him process all this information and it gives this really funny visual of later on, Gregory asking Glamrock Freddy something from the past of Fazbear Entertainment or his previous family drama and then Freddy just starts humming and muttering "....mmm all stay strong, we live eternally, all is well in mmmmm pure insanity, mmmmm-AH!- here is your answer, Gregory! :333" no because imagine he shows Gregory "Too Far" (by CK9C) and Greg's like "Thats......a lot of yelling." "I was going through a rough time haha." -listens to it further before taking of the headphones- "...You good man?" "I'm really not, but we ball, Gregory."

[paradoxgavel]

another addition to the afton collection!!

[ylangelegy]

like a python 🧊 jihoon x reader.

jihoon doesn’t know how many years of pining he has left in him.

★ rockstar!jihoon x reader. ★ word count: 2.5k ★ genre/warnings: alternate universe: non-idol. jihoon-centric, childhood friends, yearning... so much yearning, young k makes a cameo, jihoon is a bit lame (affectionately), cussing/swearing. mentions of alcohol, food. ★ footnotes: got7 dropped winter heptagon and it's all i can think about. wrote this in one sitting as a show of gratitude to @chugging-antiseptic-dye for introducing me to these boys. haven't done a song fic in a hot minute, but for lee jihoon and got7? anything. shoutout to igot7_MarKP on twitter for the english translation of the lyrics.

🎧 now playing: python by got7 — i know i'm an icon, watch me with the lights on; but she got a hold on me like a python.

▸ MUSIC IS HOW I'VE BEEN VENTING NOW... OVERSEAS, I'M SELLING OUT.

It’s pretty surreal to Jihoon, being in a room with some of the biggest names in rock.

In the past hour alone, he’s met Alex Turner, Dave Grohl, and— holy shit, is that Hayley Williams? Jihoon is getting dizzy, and it’s not only because of all the secondhand smoke he’s inhaled since he got to the Rolling Stones afterparty. 

The best of the best. That’s what the invitation had boasted. It was the scene’s most coveted event, and Jihoon somehow made it to the guest list. 

Unbidden, your voice nags from somewhere in the back of his mind. You’re the best, Jihoon-ah. 

He shakes his head, like he’s physically trying to get away from the thought of you. This had been happening a lot more as of late. Fleeting moments wherein he’d imagine how you would react, what you’d say. 

But Jihoon always catches himself. He snaps himself out of it and goes back to recording, goes back to performing. 

God, he needs to get it together. He’s starting to regret saying ‘no’ to the cigarette Ely Buendia was offering him earlier. 

(In Jihoon’s defense, he didn’t smoke often. He didn’t want to fuck up his vocal chords. He had a one-cigarette-a-year rule, and he wasn’t about to use it now. It was only January; who knew what else the year would throw him?) 

Jihoon is contemplating some other vice— maybe he can go grab another beer— when he feels a tap on his shoulder. At the sight of who came up to him, Jihoon immediately folds into a bow. 

“There’s no need for that,” Younghyun says, equal parts amused and embarrassed. “We’re all the same here, yeah?” 

Jihoon pulls himself to his full height. “Not… really,” he says lamely, and then he immediately launches into mumbled apologies when he realizes how he might have sounded. 

It wasn’t that Jihoon thought he was better than his peers. Hell, he knew that he was the least important person in the room. That’s what he meant; they were not all the same, because Jihoon still had a long ways to go. 

Especially when compared to rock icon Young K, who is— gracefully— taking Jihoon’s awkwardness in stride. 

“You’re holding up a lot better than me,” Younghyun muses. “At my first afterparty, I threw up on Rupam Islam.” 

“No.” 

“Yes, unfortunately. He was very nice about it, though.” 

Jihoon lets out a stutter of a laugh. He’s never been a fan of small talk, but he clings to it now like a lifeline. “Does it get easier?” he asks. 

Younghyun’s eyebrows raise. “Throwing up on rockstars?” 

“No, no–”

“I was kidding,” Younghyun says in between chuckles. His expression is a little more pensive when he goes on, “I can’t say for sure that it gets easier, but you learn to deal with it.” 

You learn to deal with it. Jihoon can almost laugh at just how accurate that is. It seems applicable to every aspect of his life— including missing you. 

Jihoon winces. Younghyun notices. 

The older man doesn’t comment on it, probably thinks it’s something else entirely. Younghyun doesn’t flinch away, either, when Jihoon nervously says, “Can I ask you another question?” 

“Ask away,” says Younghyun. “I’ve got nothing better to do.” 

What is Jihoon doing? He doesn’t know either, but it’s either this or fight off the urge to run through a pack of Marlboros. “How do you cope,” he starts slowly, “with… feelings?” 

A beat. Crap. Jihoon realizes he definitely could have phrased that better, because Younghyun is now looking at him with an expression of mild confusion. 

Jihoon backtracks. “You— we— go through a lot in this field of work. Like, a lot. And you— fuck, fine, I’m— grateful for it, really, I swear. But there’s just… so much other things, too, aside from the gratitude. How do you cope with those?”

Jihoon knows he probably looks and sounds like a trainwreck in his bid to be deliberately vague. By some miracle, Younghyun at least seems to understand what Jihoon is trying to say.

Younghyun’s lip quirks to one side as he thinks of his response. The silence stretches uncomfortably long, but then he gives an answer that’s the last thing Jihoon could have expected. 

“I write,” Younghyun says. 

Jihoon blinks once. Then twice. 

“You write,” he repeats, and the former nods. 

“It’s all in my discography. The anger, the heartbreak, the love.” Younghyun raises his shoulders in a shrug. “I’ve written nearly 200 songs, and all of them are just— that. Questions. Answers to questions. Feelings and stories.” 

It’s so simple, so obvious. It’s like a glaring traffic sign, like something that every musician should know and do.

Put it in a song. Perform it for thousands and leave the muse none the wiser. Profit. Lather, rinse, repeat. 

Jihoon had done it a fair amount of times, but never had he considered putting you to pen and paper. The prospect of it makes something in his chest thrum. 

“I—” He clears his throat. “I think I have to go, sunbaenim. It was nice seeing you.” 

A hint of humor glints in Younghyun’s eye, like he’s somewhat aware of the fact he’s witnessing something unravel. “‘Younghyun’ is fine,” he chirps. “And it was nice seeing you, too, Jihoon. Take care of yourself.” 

The words— take care of yourself— are supposed to be a platitude. To Jihoon, it feels like a tall ask. 

▸ I'M TOURING THE WORLD BUT I'M MISSING THE ONE WHO HELD IT DOWN.

Jihoon is exhausted. 

As much as he wants to say that he’s never been this tired in his life, it’d probably be a lie. He’d make the claim, hit the road, then end up crashing out saying the same damn thing. He’s seen this film before; he knows how it ends. 

He falls back on his hotel bed after his shower. A low groan escapes him, and he sends up a silent prayer to all the higher powers there are. Thank you for sheets with a 300-500 thread count. Thank you for air-conditioning. Thank you for warm showers and Listerine. 

Despite his fatigue, Jihoon can’t just go to sleep. Post-show adrenaline always took a couple of hours to wear off.

He briefly contemplates his options. Write a lyric or two? Watch a shitty Netflix movie? Stare out the hotel window until his eyes can’t stay open anymore? 

None of the above, it seems, as he reaches for his phone. 

Jihoon has never been active on SNS; he just couldn’t bring himself to care about things like TikTok trends or Twitter ‘beef’. It’s a constant thorn in his PR team’s side. There is one thing that he bothers to check, though, and God forbid he deny himself the simple pleasure of some good ol’ fashioned pining. 

He’s been on your Instagram page enough times that it’s the first thing that shows when he goes to the search bar. It’s the only thing that shows, really, which gives some pretty good sense of where his head is at. 

Your profile loads. There’s no new post, no recent story. Jihoon is both disappointed and relieved.

No news is good news, he thinks to himself as he leisurely scrolls through the photos he’s already seen a dozen times before. You, feeding sidewalk cats. You, sipping tea at a cafe. You, in all the places that were once Jihoon’s, too. The beaches, the hiking trails, the restaurant in your shared neighborhood. 

Jihoon opens that particular post. Even though he’s watched your life in squares for the better half of the past three years, this is the one photo that always has him feeling a pang of… something. 

Because Jihoon can imagine it— being at that restaurant with you. The two of you had discovered it together, had pooled your measly school allowances to afford the bokguk and ganjang gejang. 

He imagines being there with this older version of you, being the one snapping the picture that’d find a spot on your feed. He can see it so clearly in his mind’s eye that if he really, really tries, it begins to look more like a memory than a daydream.

But he’s not in Busan, not even in Korea. He’s in the United States instead, where he has ten stops before heading to Canada and Europe. 

Sold-out stadiums. Thousands upon thousands of adoring fans. 

All the food that he could possibly want, and yet it’s pufferfish soup and soy sauce crabs that he’s looking for. 

Every person that he could possibly have, and yet. And yet. 

Jihoon huffs out a frustrated exhale. He’s tired, which he swears makes him delusional. 

He casts his phone aside, blissfully ignorant to the way his finger double taps his screen as he does. 

Halfway across the world, your phone pings.

woozi_universefactory ✓ liked your post. 

▸ I'VE BEEN RUNNING BACKWARDS, RUNNING BACKWARDS LIKE A MARATHON.

The push notification glaring up at Jihoon looks a lot like a bomb that’s about to explode.

Jihoon feels like it’s a bomb, because he refuses to believe that after over a year of absolutely nothing, you’ve messaged first. You’ve messaged first. 

He double, triple checks his calendar. It’s neither of your birthdays. It’s not a holiday, either. Is it Chuseok? No— that doesn’t make sense. 

“For fuck’s sake,” he chides himself under his breath. It’s a text. Nothing more, nothing less.

Jihoon opens the notification. 

And then his heart just. 

Stops. 

You’d sent two messages— the first, being the post that had him spiraling last night. It’s the proceeding message that has Jihoon hoping the ground will swallow him whole. 

Stalking me, Jihoon-ah? 

Holy shit.

Jihoon types out at least three different messages, from Are you a fly on my wall to Is there a new Instagram feature I don’t know about to What happened to “hello, how are you”? 

In the end, he only sends back a single question mark. When he opens the offending post, he immediately sees his transgression. 

Jihoon hadn’t liked the photo before last night. He didn’t like much posts to begin with. How— When— 

His phone pings. He’s never been so thankful that he mostly opts to get room service for breakfast, because the squeak that he lets out is definitely not very rockstar-like. Jihoon fumbles, and he ends up opening your DM before he can psych himself up for it. 

LOL. Playing dumb doesn’t suit you, you say. 

Damn you and your ability to render him speechless. Jihoon wonders if he can get away with not responding, with getting back to you a couple of days later and blaming his work. 

Except. 

Jihoon’s fingers slowly move across his screen. 

It was a good post, he says. 

It was a post from a year ago, you answer. 

So? He throws in an emoji of a man shrugging for good measure. Jihoon never uses emojis, but he can make some exceptions. 

Your respond, So, stalking. You were stalking me. 

Jihoon knows he’s digging a hole for himself, knows he’s going to stay up several nights thinking of just how stupid he is. If he were a stronger man, he’d pull the plug on this conversation and that’d be it. You wouldn’t bug him. He would maybe write a song about this moment. The world would go on. 

But he can hear you. 

In the messages, in the words on his screen. He can hear your voice, the way you’d smile or laugh or tease. How you’d say his name in that sing-song tone he once pretended to hate. 

He hears you in your messages, and he’ll live with the secondhand shame if it means that he gets to keep on listening. 

Not stalking, he shoots back. Just checking in. 

Ah, you say. Because you missed me?~

Despite himself, he scoffs. You’ve always been so shameless. It didn’t matter to you that he was WOOZI the rockstar; to you, he would always be Jihoon who lived three houses down. 

As if, he says to your teasing.

You don’t respond anymore. You don’t even read the message, because Jihoon doesn’t see the little ‘Seen’ under his last message.

He waits for it for a minute. Then five minutes. Then seven minutes. He stops checking at the thirteen-minute mark, because he likes to believe he’s no longer a high schooler with a raging crush on the girl next door. 

He’s a grown man. He’s WOOZI, for Christ’s sake. 

He can’t keep coming back to you.

▸ I GAVE YOU MY TIME WHEN I DIDN'T HAVE MUCH; ALL OF MY FEELINGS, SWEPT UNDER THE RUG.

Except he does. 

WOOZI may not want to. WOOZI may be the bassist writing songs about the past in hopes of leaving things in the past, but Jihoon is a different story. 

Jihoon texts you the moment he lands in Gimhae International Airport. Jihoon stands outside your front door— definitely jetlagged, probably in need of a shower— with his luggage in one hand and his phone in the other. 

Jihoon acts like it’s the world’s biggest inconvenience when he tells you, “Come on, then.” 

The two of you get the crabs and soup. He refuses to talk about his time away; he contents himself with listening, like he always does, and you fill the silence with babble. Your desk job, your parents’ nagging, your hobbies and side hustles. 

“Probably not as interesting as your life,” you joke after a particularly long-winded anecdote about a delivery rider who got your address wrong. 

Jihoon neither confirms nor denies the statement. He only raises one eyebrow and gives you a wordless gesture with his hand. Go on anyway, he’s saying, and you take the cue. 

The meal ends. Jihoon invites you for coffee. Then ice cream. Then a walk. 

“This is very suspicious.” 

Jihoon can’t help it; a snort of laughter escapes him at your words. “Can’t a guy take a friend out to lunch?” he asks humorlessly. 

“And dinner,” you note. 

“And dinner, yes.” 

“And dessert.” 

“And dessert.” 

The two of you are taking the long way home. There’s something to be said about how Jihoon drags his feet, about how you walk like you’re not on borrowed time. Even your conversation moves like you’re beating around the bush.

There is an elephant in the room and Jihoon is done pretending that it’s not there. That it hasn’t been there since the day you two met in primary school, since the first time he held your hand as a teenager, since he became a musician and every song he performed became about you.

Jihoon doesn’t know how many years of pining he has left in him. 

“Are you dying?” 

Your blasé question draws a bark of laughter from him. “Jesus, no,” he says. “Do I have to be dying to want to see you?” 

You don’t answer right away. Jihoon once again has that feeling that he’s said something wrong, something loaded, but you save him from overthinking when you respond with, “You wanted to see me?” 

There it is. That teasing tone, that hint of a smile. 

You bump your shoulder against his. “You missed me, Jihoon-ah. Admit it.” 

And Jihoon is done, Jihoon is tired, Jihoon is still yours after all this time.

“I did,” he finally, finally says. “I missed you.” 

[iamred-iamyellow]

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ i've missed you miami

♥ pairing: logan sargeant x fem!golfer!reader

♥ smau - fluff

♥ none of the pictures are mine, all were found on pinterest

♥ masterlist

liked by lilymhe, alex_albon, and 345,672 more

yourusername ready for LPGA

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lilymhe good luck <3

yourusername you too babe <3

user10 GOOD LUCKK

user6 getting the prayer circle ready

landonorris we're rooting for you

yourusername thank you mwah mwah

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

-Top Golf-

“Alright teams of two,” Alex said to the group. “Lily and I, George and Carmen, Lando and Carlos…. which leaves Logan with Y/n.”

“Oh come on obviously Lily and Y/n are going to win. They have an unfair advantage.” George whined. 

You stepped up to the small square patch of turf with your golf ball and club. 

“Shouldn’t have invited two professionals to top golf then,” you laughed. 

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logansargeant everyone say thanks to y/n for winning us top golf

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landonorris booo

yourusername not my fault you suck at golf

carlossainz55 she’s just telling the truth lando

landonorris I hate you both

user2 why he posing like that

user14 oh!

user1 save a horse ride a cowboy

yourusername amen to that

user2 ON MAIN?!?! 😨

user7 new ship unlocked

user5 shoutout y/n for doing all the heavy lifting

landonorris I would also appreciate some sympathy for having to watch the two of them be all over each other

user7 SORRY?

user10 omg Lando spill

user16 Y/n and Lily ate them up huh?

user13 she’s so pretty :(

user12 the picture of Logan-

user14 this is so cute

user1 is it weird to say I ship

georgrussell63 I demand a rematch

yourusername you wanna lose twice?

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

liked by landonorris, logansargeant, and 465,682 more

yourusername embracing my cuntry roots

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landonorris yeehaw

yourusername 🦅🦅

user13 how coquette of you

user5 logan sargeant core

user4 he didn't invent cowgirls

user6 RAHH

user1 USA USA

user7 but does he say you're so american 🤨

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

liked by logansargeant, lilymhe, and 348,620 more

yourusername hey miami, i've missed you

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user13 logan in the comments logan in the comments

user7 guys she's there for golf, not Logan

logansargeant did you need a reminder not to feed the alligators

yourusername ...no

logansargeant ...

yourusername they're so cute

user3 ALLIGATORS?

logansargeant if you try pet one it WILL eat you

yourusername :(

user8 @/logansargeant would you fight an alligator for her

alex_albon im sure he would

user9 gotta make sure he's good enough for our queen y/n

user2 her hair >>>

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

liked by yourusername, williamsracing, and 823,948 more

logansargeant home race

-comments are disabled-

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

liked by francisca.gomes, lilymhe, and 372,392 more

yourusername me and the girls <3

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francisca.gomes love you babes

yourusername ily pookie

logansargeant how come I wasn't invited?

yourusername its girls night

landonorris you'll get her attention during the race dw

user7 Lando is the biggest y/n x Logan shipper

user8 hes so me

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

liked by logansargeant, carlossainz, and 370,239 more

yourusername I love you but not enough to let you win 💙

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carlossainz be honest. who's a worse golfer: Logan or Lando

yourusername lando.

landonorris yea but only one of us can drive an f1 car and I'm pretty sure its not you

yourusername that's LOW

oscarpiastri when you go low, Lando goes lower

user8 the blue heart-

user14 its for Logan idc

user2 BLUE HEART FOR WILLIAMS

user18 "I love you but-" SORRY WHAT? I LOVE YOU?!

user9 I love you?!?! say it one more time for the people in the back

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

liked by yourusername, alex_albon, and 862,947 more

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user6 I love how this is him hard launching his relationship and then just a picture of him and Alex 😭

yourusername you- you're cheating on me with ALEX?!

alex_albon you weren't supposed to find out this way

yourusername @/lilymhe come collect your man

user7 I TOLD YOU THEY WERE IN LOVE

user19 YES ITS FINALLY HAPPENING

user1 idk who I wanna be more

user5 they're dating?

user12 yea it was so obvious

landonorris get a room

[midnightshindig]

Rex who’s jealous of the reader’s long-standing friendship with Mark, which eventually turns into Mark becoming Rex’s wingman? Have a great day or night!

okay I’m loving this, shoutout to you guys for the awesome requests!!!

fic under the cut >:D

You and Mark have been friends since childhood, his dad is Omni Man, your Dad was Darkwing

You became friends through the barbecues Mark’s dad used to host

your dad wasn’t ever really one for socializing but after you and Mark because best friends, there wasn’t a lot he could do to avoid it

So, friends since you were both in grade school, you know a lot about eachother

its you, Mark, and William against the world

People often ask if you’re dating Mark or William, but once William starts dating Rick, everyone in your life seems convinced you and Mark will get together next

but cmon, you’ve seen his xmen print boxers

youve seen him try and fly by jumping off your patio and breaking his arm

The first time he took you flying he fucking dropped you and broke YOUR arm

That was fun to explain to your parents

You could never shack up with the guy who thought his dick had a bone in it for the first fourteen years of his life

Plus, there’s a guy you’re already pretty interested in…

You’re on marks bed criss crossed, leaning forward onto your palms

“Nooo way- you got to MEET Teen Team?!” Your eyes were starry eyed and wide, pure unbridled awe in your coice

”What- how did you?” Mark jumped at the sight of you in his room, shutting the window behind him “How did you get in?”

you scoffed, waving a hand dismissively “Please, you think I can’t break into a house?”

man he always forgets your dad trained you good..

“Anyways!!!” You interrupted, standing up ceremoniously “What was it like? I saw on the news- you fought with THE Atom Eve? What are they like-?”

your voice got dreamy and hazy as you flopped onto his bed “What’s Rex like?”

a moment of silence

Mark sat next to you on the bed, rubbing his neck “Um. He’s… he’s a character.” He smiled awkwardly

what was he supposed to say? Yeah he’s an asshole and also dating Eve

”Ugh, boo, I need details, Mark!” you sat up with a swing, hitting him with his pillow

”Well- ow! Okay Jesus-“ he grabbed the pillow

“For one- he’s dating Eve!”

ooooooooo nooooooooo

you deflated, narrowing your eyes at him

”Damnit. That sucks….” You continued

”Still though!! He was so cool all like pow! And boom!” You punched the air with enough momentum to flop back onto your back, giggling

“That’s insane- you’re insane. There’s nothing cool about him.”

but you didn’t care, he was cool to you

It’s a while later, like I’m talking a WHILE later, beginning of season three

You havent seen Mark in a while, your hangouts are sparse, mostly just bowling and reading comics at his house.

Things have been rough since Mark became a superhero.

For example

Mr Grayson, the guy who’d taught you to play baseball when your dad was too busy, had turned out to be a vicious Viltrumite

Hed killed your father. And while Mark had been busy cleaning up after his Dad, you’d been busy picking up the pieces after losing yours.

Darkwings apprentice and sidekick, Nightboy, was “there for you”, but he was kind of an asshole all things considered

Mark had been busy kicking ass and you’ve been busy with William at university, wanting to get away from the oppressive city you hailed from

You knew Rex and Atom Eve had broken up a while ago, but Mark was so preoccupied with Amber and then Eve(????) that he never got around to introducing you.

You were Darkwings child, it’s not like you’re some unimportant civilian, you kick ass when you need to!!!

and you do have Nightboys contact….

“Hey man! hook a person up, what’s Rex like?”

Left on seen

ooooo you were gonna fuck up that little dweeb next time you saw him.

copycat little bitch

ugh. He can’t even help a hoe out? Damn.

I guess that leaves emotionally unavailable Mark

”You want me to introduce you to the Guardians- oh my god Y/n you just want to meet your celebrity crush!!”

You roll your eyes “Duh, Mark. It’s not fair! It’s not like I’m some massive creep who stalks him, I’m single, he’s single, I’ve always thought he was cool as fuck!”

He sighs, pulling off his mask “Look, Rex is a rough dude, I’m not sure you’ll like him once you meet him in person-“

“Mark if you don’t invite him to our next bowling night I’m going to leak to the news that you wet the bed until you were twelve I swear to god.”

never let it be said you weren’t intimidating like your dad.

William rolled the ball, knocking down eight pins “Uh huh- oh yeah- let’s go boys!” He did a little victory dance, before walking over and slapping your hand to tag you in

“I still can’t believe you got hustled into this.” He commented, sitting next to Mark as you went up to bowl

Mark groaned, Rex at his other side watching your bowling ball intently “Yeah well- I didn’t have much of a choice.”

You hit a few of the pins, and managed to finish off all but one on your second roll.

The night had been going smoothly, introductions were exciting. You were surprisingly calm, Mark had expected you to flip your shit when Rex dapped you up

Rex was surprised at the invitation initially “You want me to come with you and your normal people friends… bowling?”

mark you know he’s a superhero right?

”Yeah- yes. Well, I think it’d do you some good, plus, they’ve been dying to meet you.”

Oh, that’s cool!

it doesn’t take much of an ego boost to get him to do things

so here he is. Bowling. With Mark, Marks very gay best friend, and Marks highschool sweetheart

he has no reason to believe this, you and Mark interact like Mark and William, but you’re different

Rex notices your city mannerisms off the bat, tense and stiff by nature, all your facial expressions carefully calculated to not draw attention from strangers, you have that signature “I grew up in Midnight City” scowl when not talking to someone. He swears you look familiar but he just can’t place it.

but it doesn’t matter, Rex has a much better time than he intends to, in no small part due to you

Mark and William are downright impressed by your candor, even managing to roast Rex a few times

is this even you? The same you who had a Rex Splode fanblog in highschool?

the night ends with Rex… asking you to drinks?

Oh my god no no no William and Mark give each other the fucking evilest look ever

Rex is smiling candidly the way he does, cocky and full of himself, but not demeaning

“Hey so this was fun! You’re not half bad at this! “ he laughs, and gently punches your shoulder

“We should get drinks sometime, like maybe after this?” He tilts his head and points to the exit with his thumbs

He figures even if you and Mark used to date in highschool, he’s with Eve now, no harm no foul, right?

home boy has to shoot his shot when a pretty thing like you whoops his ass at bowling

Theres no way Mark can let you go underage drink with the biggest fuckboy he knows

”AAACTUALLY, Rex-“ he places a firm hand on both yours and Rex’s shoulders “Y/n promised to hang out with me tonight”

his grin is forced and it’s obvious

Rex is just looking at him like “Mark what the fuck I’m tryna score here”

Mark raises his eyebrows at him and then gives him the harshest glare he’s ever recieved

You’re just in the middle like O.o

what the fuck is going on? You’re making faces at William trying to understand and William is just standing a few feet away with folded arms and a dad stare, the “you know better” kind of stare

what the fuck.

Rex gets back to HQ confused as ever, like what the hell was that?

Why was Mark so goddamn protective of you? You broke up!

he didn’t still have feelings for you…. Did he?

man what a dick move, Rex is fuming in the HQ common area just fucking pacing around

the newly appointed Guardian, Darkwing, notices him pacing and asks what’s up

“God- it’s nothing, Invincible invited me out with his super hot friend to go bowling but got super weird when I asked them out- like, full cockblocking!” He throws his arms up

“And they were so cute, too, great at bowling, check it out!” He pulls out his phone and pulls up a group photo from the bowling before

Darkwing just studies the photo and gasps

“Rex thats Y/n, my predecessors kid.”

mic drop.

He KNEW you looked familiar

what the HELL Mark?

”So do you like, have their number?”

Darkwing could help you two get together, but that’s his mentors kid and his insufferable asshole teammate. And also doesn’t give a shit.

”No.” he lies, looking away stoically

“Damn.” Rex mutters, folding his arms

Yknow what, fuck it! He’s gonna give Mark a piece of his mind-

and so Rex does, calling him as soon as he gets to his room

Mark answers with a “Hey man? What’s up?”

Rex can’t help but launch into a diatribe “You think it’s okay for you to be with Eve and still have feelings for your ex?! I’m shitty and even I know that’s shitty!”

Mark, who thinks he’s talking about Amber:

”WHAT I DONT have feelings for Amber- Rex that’s completely ridiculous-“

”I’m not talking about Ammm-berrr” he sings her name mockingly before continuing “You totally cockblocked me tonight!”

silence

”Wait Rex do you think Y/n is my-“

”I know they are! Cmon you guys are so familiar and close!”

Rex glares at the phone as Mark snickers on the other end

”Hey don’t laugh at me, asshole!”

”No, no, I’m sorry. I’m sorry- Fuck- Rex- ooooohhhh I’m sorry I can’t-“ he heard a thud on the other line followed by more laughing

“And where’s Y/n, I thought they were staying with you tonight?”

The laughing dies off “Sorry man, I didn’t want my childhood best friend- and nothing more- getting drunk, they’re only nineteen. And don’t do stuff like that often.”

Rex goes to talk but Mark cuts him off

”And- ugh this is too funny oh my god- Haha- god… They’ve had like an obnoxious celebrity crush on you since you started Teen Team.”

whaaaaaaat

Rex’s face burns red at the thought, and he quickly switches gears

”Okay then Mark I need you to be a bro and help me out!” His voice is excitable if not a little whiny ”it’s the least you can do after tonight…”

Mark can’t say no to him, and sets up another hangout.

you’re fixing your outfit in Marks mirror, putting on the last step of your skincare routine while talking

”I can’t believe you blocked me like that, not cool man”

”okay, I hear you, but we’re gonna go see the new Seance Dog movie tonight and I invited Rex-“

A brush clatters on the floor

”You invited Rex?!” You’re panicked, you’re not dressed up nice enough for that, but it’s too late, and Williams in the driveway honking to get you both into his car

It’s William, you, Rex, then Mark in the back row of the otherwise packed theatre

William discretely slides a back of breathmints into your palm, winking at you

oh this is an operation. These bitches are in on it.

Rex looks at Mark, then at the popcorn situated between you and him.

he plunges a hand in and roots around for a solid handful

William jabs you in the upper arm with his bony ass elbow, pointing to the popcorn with his eyes

You can take a hint, and reach “absentmindedly” into the popcorn yourself

Your hands brush against eachother, Rex taking the opportunity to hold your hand

And now your hand is intertwined with his on the arm rest dividing you

The movie goes on, Mark is having a great time and Williams on his phone texting his boyfriend, Rick

You hold hands that entire movie. He has surprisingly clammy hands

its cuz he’s nervous

After the movie, Mark and William fuck off to the restroom, but they’re actually just giving Rex the chance to do this:

”So! Now that those guys are gone, what do you say to going out without them sometime?”

“uh yeah- of course! I mean, what did you have in mind?” You can’t help but bat your eyelashes, and mark and William who are watching from around a corner groans at seeing you like this

ew ew ew why are you flirting you know how to do that? Grosssss

So you get Rex’s number and he gets yours, before William and Mark return to get everyone home.

”Ha- bye Rex, this was fun!”

everyone else in the car waiting for you to be done :(

Rex doesn’t care though, and chats you up for another ten minutes

he shows off his robotic hand and uses it to brush your hair behind your ear

Wow he’s smoother than Mark remembers….

William honks the car “I have an 8am class tomorrow, Rex!!”

ugh, to cut short such a sweet moment with such a babe

Rex settles to end things there, leaving with a wink and some finger guns

You FINALLY hop in the car and William speeds off so fast there’s dust clouds

Rex realizes he has no ride home…

And you two start dating!

how exciting!

Mark boasts it’s literally all thanks to him

like won’t let you live it down

its nice to have fun and do good things when the world isn’t crumbling

You should enjoy it while you can

[misshoneyimhome]

“You’re not wearing anything under that, are you?” When the OC surprises William wearing nothing underneath her Jersey and explore voyeurism/exhibitionism x multiple orgasms. I love your Willy series.

Thank you, babe! Alrighty, I know we’ve had plenty of teasing reader content lately—what can I say, William has truly created a monster 😉🤭 But I felt it was only right to give him a well-deserved shoutout for all the incredible modeling work he’s been doing! (Not me gasping and drooling over every single shoot he’s in… 🙈) - And I did try to add a touch of romance, though 💍

I do apologise if I didn’t quite capture the voyeurism/exhibitionism aspect perfectly, but I still hope you enjoy this chapter! 💕

Tropes & warnings: Inexperienced!reader x Willy, established relationship, 18+ smut: semi-public - dressing room, oral sex (m receiving), fingering, light chokehold, unprotected vaginal penetration, overstimulation, cum inside

word count: 4.5K

➼｡ﾟ

Flaunt It, Own It I Inexperienced!Reader x William Nylander ✐☆

The air crackled with tension the moment you stepped into the studio, the dim lighting casting a golden glow over the sleek set where William had spent the last hour posing for yet another magazine cover. The entire room felt thick with energy—an intoxicating mix of camera flashes, murmured instructions from the photographer, and the quiet hum of admiration from the crew that surrounded him.

And he looked infuriatingly good—like he was born for the spotlight.

Standing under the studio lights, William exuded effortless confidence. His sharp jawline, dusted with the perfect amount of scruff and his moustache, caught the glow just right. His hair, still slightly damp from the stylist’s hands, was perfectly tousled, a deliberate kind of mess that made him look even more devastatingly handsome. But it was his eyes that got you the most—those deep, piercing blues, the ones that smouldered into the camera with an intensity that had your stomach flipping in ways you couldn’t control.

Dressed in a loose tailored suit, the crisp white shirt beneath was unbuttoned just enough to tease at the toned chest you knew so well. He had the sleeves rolled up, exposing his strong forearms, veins prominent from the way he’d been flexing through poses. His posture was relaxed but commanding, like he knew exactly the effect he had on the room—on you.

And he did.

You weren’t the only one noticing.

Around him, a cluster of people flitted about—the photographer directing him into effortless poses, the stylists making minor adjustments to his collar, the makeup artist stepping in now and then to dab at his cheekbones. But it was the way the female journalists and assistants lingered that had your stomach churning. Their eyes drank him in, filled with admiration, a few biting their lips, whispering amongst themselves whenever he sent them an easy grin.

They weren’t just admiring him. They were fantasizing.

And you knew what William was like. He was charming—he thrived under attention, under adoration. He smiled back at them, laughed at their jokes, even held eye contact for a second too long.

Normally, you’d be unfazed. You were secure in what you had with him. You knew that at the end of the day, he was yours. But something about the way they looked at him today, about the way he leaned into the attention, made a fire ignite deep in your belly.

If they could fight for his attention, so could you.

But you wouldn’t do it like them. No, you knew how to get to William. You knew exactly what drove him wild.

So instead of throwing yourself at him like the others, you did the opposite.

You ignored him.

The next few hours, you made it a point not to look at him. Not once. Instead, you busied yourself with checking your phone, casually making conversation with Pablo and Banksy, petting them as if they were the only things worth your time. When assistants tried to chat with you, you laughed a little too hard, smiled a little too wide—just enough for William to notice.

And he did notice.

You could feel it—the way his gaze kept flickering in your direction between takes, the way his jaw tightened slightly when your laugh rang out a little louder than necessary. William wasn’t used to being ignored, least of all by you.

Still, he played it cool.

For a while, at least.

From the corner of your eye, you saw him roll his shoulders back, adjusting his stance slightly as he prepared for the next set of shots. His suit jacket was long discarded, his casual sweater zipped down even further, exposing just a hint of the sculpted chest beneath. He looked effortlessly sinful, and he knew it.

So did everyone else.

The stylist brushed a bit of lint from his sleeve, her fingers lingering longer than necessary. Another assistant offered him a bottle of water, her gaze flicking down to his lips as he drank. The female journalist interviewing him hung onto his every word, playing with her hair, tilting her head just enough to make it obvious she was interested in more than his answers.

William soaked it all in, thriving under the attention—but his eyes kept searching for you.

And that’s exactly what you wanted.

You continued your act, shifting slightly so your leg brushed against the assistant beside you, offering a bright, flirty smile as you tucked your hair behind your ear. The guy grinned back, clearly intrigued by the sudden attention.

That was all it took.

The moment the next set of photos wrapped up; William was on the move.

His strides were purposeful, his entire frame radiating something dark and possessive as he made his way toward you. He didn’t stop to acknowledge the lingering stylists, didn’t spare another glance at the journalist who had been subtly touching his arm just moments before.

No.

His sights were set solely on you.

Your heart pounded as he reached you, his presence commanding as he came to stand directly in front of you. The subtle cologne he wore—deep, musky, with a hint of something clean and citrusy—wrapped around you, sending a shiver down your spine.

He didn’t speak at first, just studied you, his head tilting slightly as if trying to decipher your little game. His eyes flickered briefly to the assistant beside you—the one still sitting a little too close—before he returned his gaze to you. And the assistant got the hint to ‘piss off.’

“You’re enjoying yourself,” William mused, his voice low, amused.

You blinked up at him innocently. “I don’t know what you mean.”

He huffed a quiet laugh, his lips curling in that slow, knowing smirk that made your stomach flutter and your thighs press together instinctively.

“You’ve barely looked at me all day,” he murmured, stepping closer—so close that you had to tilt your chin up to meet his gaze. “Even when I was right in front of you.”

You shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “You seemed busy.”

William’s smirk widened slightly, but his eyes darkened.

“Not too busy for you,” he murmured.

The way he said it—the way his voice dropped just slightly, that unmistakable edge creeping in—made something tighten low in your belly.

But you weren’t going to give in that easily.

You merely hummed, shifting slightly as if to brush past him. “Well, don’t let me interrupt—”

Before you could take another step, his fingers curled around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. His grip wasn’t forceful, but it was firm—just enough to remind you who was in control.

“Enough, älskling.” His voice was quiet, just for you, but laced with a warning.

Your pulse stuttered.

His fingers trailed along the curve of your ass, barely brushing against the fabric, but it was enough to make your breath hitch. The sensation sent a shiver racing down your spine, the heat of his touch searing through you despite the minimal contact. He knew exactly what he was doing—reminding you who you belonged to, who you’d been teasing all day.

“You’ve had your fun,” William murmured, his voice a low hum, teasing but firm. His fingertips skimmed over your hip before gripping it lightly, his thumb brushing slow, deliberate circles. “But you know how this ends, don’t you?”

You swallowed hard, your pulse hammering in your throat.

The moment was cut short as voices drifted closer; members of the crew moving about, discussing lighting adjustments and final shots. You barely had time to steady your breath before the sound of footsteps signalled their approach. William’s grip on your hip tightened for the briefest moment, a silent warning, before he effortlessly slipped back into his composed, charming demeanour.

You, however, felt anything but composed.

As the crew members passed, one of the assistants flashed William a bright smile. “Hey, Willy, they’re setting up for the last few shots. Shouldn’t take long.”

He nodded, offering that easy, friendly grin—the one that made everyone feel special, like they had his full attention. “Sounds good.”

Then, as if he hadn’t just been moments away from completely unravelling you, he turned back to you, his expression unreadable. But the dark glint in his eyes told you this wasn’t over.

You’d won just a bit more time.

And that meant you could keep playing your game.

So, you straightened your spine, smoothing your shirt as if nothing had happened, meeting his gaze with feigned innocence. “Guess you should get back to work,” you murmured, letting your fingers brush against his wrist in a fleeting, teasing touch before stepping back.

William’s jaw twitched.

You knew you were pushing it, but that was the point.

As he turned toward the set, you bit back a smirk, knowing full well that you weren’t done yet. You still had time to keep teasing him, keep making him work for your attention.

Your move was borderline cruel, and you knew it. But after watching William charm his way through the day—smiling a little too easily at the female journalists, letting the stylists linger a little too long—you decided he needed a reminder.

A reminder that he was taken. 

And what better way to do that than by playing the oldest trick in the hockey book?

You always kept a spare Nylander jersey in the car, part of the “always be prepared” go-bag you and William had for spontaneous plans. So, while he was finishing up his final shots, you slipped away, retrieving the jersey, and pulling it over your head.

The second the fabric settled against your bare skin; a slow smirk curled at the corners of your lips.

Because for all the modelling shoots, the tailored suits, the perfectly styled hair—at his core, William was a hockey player. And nothing made him lose his mind faster than you wearing his jersey.

Especially when it was the only thing you were wearing.

With the oversized fabric hanging loosely around your body, the sleeves swallowing your hands, and the hem barely grazing the tops of your thighs, you made your way to the dressing room. It was quiet now, the buzz of the shoot slowly dying down as people began packing up. You perched yourself on the wooden bench inside, crossing one leg over the other, anticipation thrumming in your veins as you waited.

It didn’t take long.

You heard his footsteps first, steady, purposeful. Then the door creaked open, and the moment his eyes landed on you, everything shifted.

William froze.

For a long second, he just stared, his blue eyes dragging over your form, taking in every inch of exposed skin beneath the familiar navy fabric. His jaw tensed. His fingers flexed at his sides. His tongue flicked out, wetting his bottom lip as his gaze darkened.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” His voice was lower than before, thick with something dangerous.

You tilted your head, feigning innocence. “What?”

William inhaled sharply, stepping into the room, and shutting the door behind him. He moved slowly, deliberately, his gaze never leaving yours.

“You’re not wearing anything under that, are you?” His voice was a rough whisper, the last thread of his patience hanging by a thread.

You smirked. “Does it matter?”

His response was instant.

One second, you were sitting on the bench. The next, you were caged between the mirror and his body, his hands gripping your hips, pressing you back against the hard surface, clouding every last rational thought.

His chest pressed firmly against yours, the hard lines of his body moulding perfectly to your softer curves. His breath was uneven, warm against your cheek as his fingers slipped beneath the hem of the jersey, his rough palms trailing up the bare skin of your thighs.

“You’re playing with fire, älskling,” he murmured, his voice thick with restraint, a warning laced in every syllable. His fingertips teased higher, barely grazing the curve of your ass.

Your breath hitched, heart pounding. “Maybe I want to get burned.”

The deep, guttural groan that rumbled from his chest made heat coil low in your belly. His forehead rested against yours for a brief moment, his grip tightening as if he was fighting for control.

Control he was losing.

“You wanted my attention?” His voice was nothing but a rough whisper now, his breath fanning across your lips, teasing you with the promise of a kiss he hadn’t yet given. “You have it.”

His lips brushed along your jaw, agonizingly slow, trailing lower, finding that spot beneath your ear that always made your knees weak. His tongue flicked out, soothing the spot before he nipped at it, a quiet moan escaping your lips in response.

His smirk was pure sin. “That’s right,” he murmured against your pulse, his hands gripping your thighs, his thumbs pressing possessively into your skin. “I’m going to remind you who you belong to.” His voice was hushed but filled with promise, the weight of his words sending a delicious shiver down your spine.

“On your knees.”

You obeyed, the heat between you thick with anticipation. You had always loved teasing him, relishing in the way you could make him unravel with the slow drag of your tongue, the way his breath hitched when you took him just a little deeper. But tonight, William wasn’t going to let you be in control.

You started slow, your tongue tracing along his length, savouring the way he tensed beneath you. You licked, tasted, teased, wanting to take your time, but William had other plans. His fingers tangled in your hair, not rough, but firm—guiding, demanding.

“You can do better than that,” he murmured, his voice a low rasp above you.

Your eyes flicked up to meet his, and the intensity in his gaze sent a shiver down your spine.

Before you could tease him further, he pushed forward, easing himself deeper into your mouth with a steady, deliberate motion. You gasped around him, your hands gripping his thighs for balance as he filled you completely, the weight of him heavy on your tongue.

“Just like that,” he groaned, his thumb stroking along your jaw, his other hand still in your hair. He wasn’t forcing—no, he was guiding, taking what he wanted, making sure you gave him exactly what he needed.

The heat between you burned hotter as you hollowed your cheeks, taking him deeper, letting him use your mouth the way he wanted. You loved this—loved the way his breath turned ragged, the way his muscles tensed beneath your touch, the way he was slowly losing his composure, unravelling under you.

William let out a shaky breath, his voice strained. “Fuck, älskling… you’re so good for me.”

His words sent another rush of heat through you, your own body responding to the way he praised you, to the control he held over you.

But you knew William—he wasn’t satisfied with just this.

And judging by the way his grip tightened in your hair, he was only just getting started.

Before you could respond, he guided you up again, flipping you around to face the mirror propped against the wall. His body pressed firmly against yours, his warmth wrapping around you like a vice, keeping you exactly where he wanted. “Look at you…” His voice was husky as he traced a slow, deliberate path down your spine, his fingers trailing just enough to leave a rush of goosebumps in their wake. “Such a good girl for me.”

Your reflection stared back at you—eyes dark with desire, lips parted, skin flushed with heat. The way William towered over you, his body pressed tightly against yours, made your knees weak. He knew exactly what he was doing, how to completely unravel you with just a few words, a few well-placed touches.

His hands smoothed over your waist before sliding lower, his fingers teasing over the curve of your cheeks before gripping firmly, spreading you open. “Mmm so pretty,” he murmured, his tone dripping with amusement and control.

You barely had a moment to respond before he spit, letting the warm slide of moisture trail down the valley between your cheeks. The act alone made you shudder, made you whimper, made heat coil deep in your belly. His fingers followed, spreading the slickness, teasing without giving you what you needed.

The anticipation was intoxicating.

Then, without warning, he pressed two fingers inside your core, stretching you with ease. Your gasp filled the room, loud and needy. Your fingers gripping onto anything. The intensity of his touch sent a shiver through you, your body instinctively pressing back against him, chasing more.

William chuckled darkly, his free hand gripping your hip, keeping you exactly where he wanted. “I want everyone to hear you,” he murmured against the shell of your ear. “To know you’re mine.”

His fingers moved with purpose—slow and teasing at first, then curling, stroking, pushing deeper until your legs trembled beneath you. Every movement sent shockwaves of pleasure rippling through your veins, the pressure building so fast you could barely think.

“Willy, I—” Your words broke into a moan as his other hand found its way between your legs, his fingers expertly circling your most sensitive spot. It was overwhelming, intoxicating, consuming.

“What’s wrong, baby?” he teased, his lips brushing against the side of your neck as he quickened his pace, pushing you closer to the edge. “Is this not what you wanted?”

Your body tightened, every nerve in your body alight with sensation as the pleasure built to an unbearable peak. The tension coiled tighter and tighter, a wave about to crash over you. And to your luck, he let you have it.

“William!” you cried, your voice breathless and needy as your body trembled. Your hands pressed against the cool glass of the mirror, your fingers splaying wide as you fought to ground yourself. But there was no escaping him. No hiding from the way he controlled every inch of you, from the way he pushed you right over the edge.

He groaned low against your skin as your release washed over you. He held you through it, his other hand slipping between your thighs to prolong the pleasure, his fingers teasing, coaxing more out of you even as your legs threatened to give out beneath you.

“That’s it,” he murmured, his breath hot against the nape of your neck. “So pretty when you fall apart for me.”

Your body trembled in his hold, still pulsing with aftershocks, but he wasn’t done.

William smirked at your reflection, watching the way your body responded to his every touch. “One more,” he murmured, his fingers dragging lazily along your oversensitive flesh, his own hardness pressing firm and hot against your lower back. “Think you can handle it, älskling?”

Your answer was a desperate whimper, your head falling back against his shoulder.

William chuckled darkly, his teeth grazing your pulse as he murmured, “Good girl.”

William didn’t give you a moment to recover. His hands were already moving, his fingers trailing over your trembling thighs, teasing the sensitive skin still warm from your release. You barely had time to catch your breath before he nudged your legs farther apart, pressing his body firmly against yours.

In the reflection, you could see everything—your face flushed, lips parted, eyes half-lidded and hazy with pleasure. And then there was him. Towering behind you, his hands gripping your figure like he owned you, his darkened gaze fixed solely on you.

“You look so fucking pretty like this,” he murmured, dragging his lips along the curve of your jaw. 

Your body jerked as his fingers found your swollen clit again, his touch slow and deliberate. The overstimulation sent another sharp wave of heat crashing through you, a desperate whimper escaping your lips.

“Willy—” Your voice broke, your body already sensitive, but he didn’t let up.

He grinned against your skin, clearly enjoying the way you squirmed beneath him. “You can take it,” he murmured, his fingers slipping out a little, but not too far,  teasing your entrance. “Can’t you, älskling?”

You swallowed hard, nodding shakily, because there was no point in denying it. Not when your body responded so eagerly to him, not when the fire inside you reignited at his words.

“That’s my girl.” His voice was thick with approval, dripping with something possessive as he replaced his fingers with his throbbing hardness, lining himself up behind you. He dragged the head of his cock along your slick folds, teasing you, making you feel just how much he wanted you before he finally pushed in.

A sharp gasp left your lips as he filled you again, stretching you in a way that had your nails scraping against the mirror. His grip on your waist tightened, and he exhaled sharply, his restraint hanging by a thread.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned, his forehead pressing against the back of your shoulder as he bottomed out. “You feel perfect.”

You whimpered, your body still sensitive, but the slow drag of his cock inside you had you melting all over again.

William pulled back, just enough to watch the way you moaned for him in the reflection, his hands sliding down to grip your hips. “Look at you,” he murmured, his voice thick with admiration. “Taking me so well.”

Your eyes flickered up, meeting his in the mirror, and the heat in his gaze sent another shiver down your spine.

Then he started moving.

The first thrust was slow, deliberate, but the next was harder, deeper, sending a jolt of pleasure through your entire body. He set a punishing rhythm, each snap of his hips forcing you against the glass, your breath fogging up the surface with every desperate moan.

His hand slid up your body, gripping your throat, tilting your head back so you had no choice but to watch yourself unravel. “See how pretty you look when I fuck you?” he murmured, his voice rough, almost reverent.

Your fingers curled against the glass, trying to hold yourself upright as he drove into you harder, his movements relentless, precise. He was everywhere—his touch, his breath, the way he filled you so perfectly, the way he made you feel like you were completely and utterly his.

“I can feel you,” he groaned, his grip tightening. “You’re gonna come again, aren’t you?”

You could only whimper, your body on the verge of another orgasm, your legs shaking from the force of it.

William smirked. “Come for me, baby,” he ordered, his fingers pressing against your clit, rubbing tight circles that sent you spiralling over the edge.

The orgasm tore through you, so intense it left you gasping, your entire body trembling against him. Your vision blurred, your moans breaking into breathless cries as pleasure flooded every inch of your being.

And William wasn’t far behind.

With one final thrust, he buried himself deep inside you, his grip turning bruising as he came with a low, guttural groan. His forehead dropped against your shoulder; his breath hot against your skin as he rode out his release.

For a long moment, neither of you moved, the only sound in the room your ragged breathing.

Slowly, William leaned forward, pressing soft kisses along your neck, his touch suddenly gentle as he smoothed his hands over your waist. He let out a breathless laugh, pressing a lingering kiss to your temple as he gently pulled himself out. “You drive me insane; you know that?”

You smirked, still trying to catch your breath. “You love it.”

William grinned against your skin. “Yeah,” he murmured, brushing damp strands of hair from your face as he turned you in his arms. “I really do.”

As he kissed you, slow and deep, there was no need for words—no need to remind each other that you belonged to one another. It was an unspoken truth, woven into every touch, every lingering look.

A few moments later, once you were dressed, cleaned up, and settled in the car, the air between you had shifted.

William’s fingers drummed lightly against the steering wheel before he glanced at you, a smirk playing at his lips. “You know… I love seeing you wear my name.”

You smiled, already knowing where this was going. “I know.”

His gaze flickered back to the road; his voice softer now. “I know, I’ve mentioned before…you know, that maybe one day, it’ll be more permanent than just a jersey.”

Your heart skipped a beat, but you kept your voice soft. “You have mentioned it.”

“I mean it.” His grip on the wheel tightened slightly. “I want you to be mine. Not just when we’re doing… all of that. But always. I don’t want you worrying about anyone else. I’m yours. In every way.”

The sincerity in his tone stole your breath.

You reached over, lacing your fingers with his, squeezing gently. “I’m yours too, Willy. You know that. I only tease you when guys flirt with me.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “I know, älskling.” His thumb traced circles over your knuckles, his expression softening. “But maybe it’s time I put a ring on your finger… since wearing my number around your neck doesn’t seem to keep them away.”

A warmth spread through your chest at his words, the sincerity in his voice melting away any lingering tension from the day. You turned to look at him, his hands gripping the steering wheel casually, but his knuckles flexed slightly, as if he was waiting for your reaction.

“You think a ring will keep them away?” you teased, raising a brow.

William smirked, his gaze flicking to you before returning to the road. “I think it’ll make it clear to everyone that you’re mine.” His voice dropped just slightly, that possessive edge creeping in, the same one that made your stomach flip. “That you always have been.”

Your heart thudded in your chest. You’d had conversations about the future before—light-hearted, dreamy talks curled up in bed, murmuring about forever in sleepy whispers. But this… this felt different.

This felt like a promise.

“You really mean that?” you asked, your voice softer now.

William scoffed like it was the easiest thing in the world. “Of course, I do.” He reached over at the next red light, his fingers finding yours, playing with them absentmindedly before lifting your hand to press a kiss against your knuckles. “I’ve known for a long time, älskling.”

You swallowed thickly, overwhelmed by the sheer weight of his words, the way they settled so perfectly in your heart.

He gave you a small smile, his eyes full of warmth. “But… you don’t have to answer now. Just know that when you’re ready, I’ll be too.”

A breathless laugh escaped you as you squeezed his hand, your mind spinning, your heart bursting with emotion. “What if I’m already ready?”

The light turned green, and William’s grin was boyish, full of something unfiltered and raw as he squeezed your hand back, his eyes crinkling with pure happiness.

“Then I guess I better start looking for a ring.”

[pey-up]

HELP MY GENDER IS ELORA CARPENTER???

your brother runs fruity-carpenters? Isnt it a girl on the pfp though? Sorry if it's not lol

No, that is my brother and if you call him a girl again I will personally find you and shove your tongue so far down your throat you'll be able to taste your stomach acid <3

[kooldewd123]

in the midst of all the mrbeast drama, the part of his history I find myself drawn the most back to is, of all things, the pewdiepie vs t-series rivalry. that was such a pivotal moment to youtube culture. there was something there that truly felt important to a lot of people. pewds was just a Guy. a creator, like so many others from his generation of youtubers, who simply put a camera in his bedroom one day and decided to upload it onto the internet. when he became the most-subscribed youtuber, he won that title from people like smosh, ray william johnson, nigahiga, and others who, like him, were in it for fun, not fame. despite his many flaws and controversies, he became a symbol of what youtube (or even online content in general) meant for a lot people. and so to see his five-year reign as king finally threatened not by a fellow Guy in a Bedroom, but by a Company??? that was an affront to the soul of youtube, the soul of the internet.

unfortunately, the writing was on the wall as soon as t-series landed on people's radars. with the rapid growth t-series was showing and the ever-changing landscape of online video as a whole, it was clear there was no stopping them from surpassing pewdiepie eventually. the opposition that arose from their arrival was never a true attempt at holding the crown, but rather a rallying cry of the creator-driven internet showing that they still mattered, that they would still push back against these companies invading their space. and out of this pushback, perhaps the strongest voice was mrbeast. while the other big names gave shoutouts to pewdiepie and maybe made a video or two about their thoughts, mrbeast made it a core part of his identity for a while. he would plug pewdiepie at every opportunity, funnel as many of his viewers towards pewds as he could, and even brought it into the real world by putting up billboards promoting him. i think it's probably fair to say that he was the single most vocal supporter of pewds.

which makes it weird to say that in the battle between pewdiepie and t-series, mrbeast came out as the ultimate winner. sure, t-series reached that holy 100 million subscriber milestone before pewdiepie did, but pewdiepie's hype man somehow managed to catapult himself ahead of both of them and reach the top with 328 million subscribers at time of writing. which, okay, maybe seems like a happy ending on the surface? one Guy in a Bedroom reaches the top, gets overthrown by a Company, and then a different Guy in a Bedroom makes it back on top. all's well that ends well. except the mrbeast making waves today isn't exactly a Guy in a Bedroom anymore. mrbeast is a chocolate company, a burger chain, an entire media enterprise. the mrbeast channel itself has become almost secondary, merely an advertisement to bring kids into the mrbeast brand. the mrbeast that dominates the youtube home page today has become an unholy conglomeration of what both pewdiepie and t-series represented: a Company wearing a Guy's face, something that presents itself with a friendly, familiar persona while using that perception to influence consumers into feeding into it. the mrbeast of 2024 is an even more insidious version of the sort of channel that the mrbeast of 2018 was fighting against.

and it makes me wonder: did mrbeast ever truly believe in the message of the pewdiepie/t-series rivalry, or was his goal simply to ride pewds's coattails into fame? it's clear looking back that unlike most of pewds's other cohorts, fame has always been mrbeast's ultimate goal. he's been chasing trends and doing stunt videos for basically as long as his channel has existed, and for years before he actually began to gain traction. was his "subscribe to pewdiepie" campaign just another wave of trendy views for him to ride? i couldn't tell you. personally, i want to believe that he did value the spirit of creation at at least some point in his career. i don't think you can post videos online for twelve whole years without finding at least some satisfaction in the creation process. but that just makes the current state of his channel even sadder. truthfully, even despite all the exploitation, the disregard for others' wellbeing, the covering up of shady behavior, and whatever other horrible things he's done, i pity him. when pewdiepie was king of youtube, so was felix kjellberg. pewdiepie the persona and felix the man had a mutualistic relationship. each one built the other up. but jimmy donaldson? jimmy donaldson is a sacrificial lamb laid at the altar of mrbeast. it's easy to make fun of his dead smile and overly forced enthusiasm, but when you hear him talk about his life behind the scenes, it's no wonder he turned into this. he's constantly forcing himself into work. he barely allows himself any downtime. he scraps entire highly-expensive videos because he doesn't think they're good enough. jimmy is destroying himself to keep mrbeast alive. he needs to keep up this persona day in and day out, never settling for anything less than perfection lest the fickle gods of SEO cause one of his videos to underperform by even a hair. in a time of heightened mental health awareness, we are watching the biggest online influencer ever reach record levels of burnout in real time. he is a living monument to both the personal dangers of online influencers and the societal dangers of capitalism. and all we can do is watch as the hole he's dug himself into grows deeper and deeper.

[nathaslosthershit]

Team USA (AA23)

(Part of the Blind Items Series [can be read on its own])

Summary: Blind items is back with a new victim, Alex Albon and his American Mclaren race engineer of a girlfriend. With the news comes a very interesting Team Torque episode.

Logan laughed when he saw the tweet. He had been making fun of Alex for his newfound patriotism. Since Alex had started having feelings for this girl, he had been asking Logan for help trying to ‘woo’ her, as if Logan hasn’t actually lived in the US since he was twelve. But his teammate helped him, happy that Alex was not teasing him about America anymore. 

Team Torque:

“Hello everyone, this is Team Torque with Alex and Logan. We are here with our very own special guest! She is a race engineer for McLaren”

“And you girlfriend.” Logan quickly adds.

“And my girlfriend. Thanks for the help Logan.” Alex says, sarcastically. “As usual, this podcast is a mess and will probably not be getting better so apologies for that.”

“We aren’t the best hosts.” Logan adds.

“No we are not. Moving on, would you like to introduce yourself?” Alex asks.

“Yes! Thank you boys. As they said, I am a race engineer for Mclaren.”

“And my girlfriend.” Alex interrupts, copying Logan's previous remark.

“And Alex’s girlfriend.”

“And a fellow American.” Logan adds. 

“Would you boys like to introduce me instead? You seem to be so enthusiastic about it.” She jokes.

Alex had been begging for a while to have her on Team Torque. The team had said if they wanted a race engineer they should have one of their own but both him and Logan were insistent that she join them. After the rumors came out, Williams decided it was best if they brought her to gain control of the narrative again. It helped that she was already well loved by the Williams crew. While she would never help them, as that would be traitorous to her beloved team, she had made friends with a few of the other engineers and had jokingly been offered a job by James Vowles a few times. 

“Sorry honey, we are just excited.” Alex said.

“Yeah! Team America back together.” Logan enthusiastically added. The two had become close since they met, giving Alex a taste of his own medicine by making fun of his ‘Britishness’. He wasn’t too happy at their joint effort to make fun of him but he supposed that it was a good thing they got along so well. 

“Anyway, go on, say a bit about yourself.”

“Okay, as mentioned I am from the US. I was born and raised in New York.”

“Yuck” Logan teased.

“Don’t even start Florida man. I worked for Arrow McLaren’s IndyCar team in the same position, shoutout to my IndyCar family, I love you all lots. Then eventually Zak Brown asked me to come to F1 and I happily joined. Through working for them I met Lando who introduced me to Alex and a few years later we now both live in Monaco together.”

“How was the switch to F1 from IndyCar?” Logan asked.

“Rough at first. IndyCar has a much different sort of atmosphere than Formula 1 as well as fanbase. Plus moving out of the US for the first time was difficult. But it has also been such an amazing opportunity that I can’t complain too much. I am so happy where I am now.” Alex hadn’t known her when she had first gotten to Formula 1 but he had heard stories about how difficult it was. She had shared a lot with him but he also knew it was hard as he hadn't had to do the same. His experiences being a Thai and British driver had helped him understand some, but women were still such a rarity in F1, even if they preached gender equality in the sport, they didn't actually do as much as they could to make it a safe space for women to work. He also realized why she and Logan got along so well. Even if they hadn’t grown up close to each other, their shared identity of being an American in a primarily European sport had brought them together. 

The interviewing portion stopped after there, as Alex and Logan were terrible interviewers, but the conversations were still entertaining and it had become viral once it was uploaded. Viewers were excited to see Alex and his girlfriend, as well as Team USA.

mclaren

mclaren  williamsracing we will keep her if you don’t mind 

alex_albon Idk you might want to keep an eye on her

williamsracing may the best team win ;)

logansargeant Team USA can't be stopped

[watchnrant]

Agatha All Along Episode 6: Easter Eggs & References

Tower Reversed

Lilia’s Tarot Readings Are Weaving a Magical Web

Alright, folks, if you’ve been keeping track, Lilia’s tarot card game in Agatha All Along is officially on another level. In Episode 6, while doing a reading at William’s bar mitzvah, she drops “The Tower Reversed.” Now, if you’ve been paying attention to the tarot cards scattered throughout the series—and the promo cards (yes, they did that)—you know there’s more to it than a casual reading.

“The Tower” card? That blue crown we saw Teen rocking at the end of Episode 5? Yep, same one. And we’ve already seen the High Priestess tying back to Jennifer Kale in Episode 2 and the Knight of Wands matching up with Alice Wu-Gulliver in Episode 5.

So, what’s up with the Tower reversed? Well, it’s all about dodging disaster or going through a huge personal transformation—totally fitting for where things are heading in this magical chaos. Trust me, if Lilia’s pulling cards, it’s a sign things are about to go down (or maybe up?).

Early Argento Vibes

A Nod to the Master of Horror

So, in Episode 6 of Agatha All Along, we catch William complimenting Lilia’s palm reading tent, calling it “very early Argento.” Horror buffs, you know the deal—this is a clear shoutout to Dario Argento, the horror maestro behind classics like Deep Red, Tenebrae, and Phenomena. Argento’s influence is all about eerie atmospheres and vibrant, unsettling visuals, and it looks like Agatha All Along is taking a page straight out of his spooky playbook.

Split Souls

Lilia’s Crystal Ball Teases William’s Dual Identity with a Sneaky Tarot Twist

When Lilia tells William his lifeline is broken in two, take a good look at her crystal ball. You’ll catch a glimpse of William as Billy, rocking his now iconic hoodie and sweater. That’s a nod to his future goth teen look as Billy Maximoff! What’s even cooler? The reflection is upside down, with the Tower and Wheel of Fortune cards inverted behind him. Those tarot reversals are no accident—they’re setting up some major life-altering moments for William. Lilia’s reading hints that his lifeline is split, describing it as “a new you,” but we know it’s a sign of something much bigger—William’s fate as someone who’s destined to hold two souls in one body, creating his dual identity.

Teen’s Sigil

Lilia’s Crafty Magic at Work

Alright, Agatha All Along fans, Episode 6 just dropped a major witchy bomb—Lilia is the one who cast Teen’s sigil, hiding William’s true identity from every witch out there, including herself. This little spellwork went down right before Billy Maximoff’s spirit took over William’s empty body. So, if you’re wondering why Wanda couldn’t track down her kid in Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness, this is your answer: the sigil was already in place long before Billy inhabited that body. Lilia’s magic game is seriously next-level, and it’s all part of the tangled web we’re unraveling.

Radio Echoes

A Throwback to WandaVision’s First Episode

As the Hex is shrinking and William is traveling home from his bar mitzvah with his parents at the beginning of Agatha All Along episode 6, they can hear both Vision and Wanda's voices on the radio. Likewise, the dialogue is specifically from the very first episode of WandaVision and its I Love Lucy/Dick Van Dyke Show homage. This aligns with the broadcasts that were picked up by SWORD agents outside the Hex, as was discovered by Darcy Lewis and Agent Jimmy Woo.

Alice Wu-Gulliver’s Fate Flip

From Eastview Cop to Agatha’s Victim

In Agatha All Along, we get some juicy flashbacks that show William Kaplan was already connected to every witch in Agatha’s new coven long before the magic hit the fan. During his bar mitzvah, he got a hand reading from Lilia Calderu, and he was apparently a loyal subscriber to Jennifer Kale’s YouTube channel—where magic meets skincare (because who doesn’t love a good mystical exfoliant?). But here’s the twist: Alice Wu-Gulliver, who later becomes one of Agatha’s coven members, was actually the cop on the scene when William’s accident happened, working for the Eastview PD.

And just when you think you’ve seen it all, the show flips the script. In Episode 5, Alice tries to cast out Evanora Harkness’s ghost from Agatha’s body, sacrificing herself in the process. Agatha, being the power-hungry witch she is, siphons all of Alice’s magic and life force, leaving her for dead. It’s a full-circle moment: Alice witnesses William’s last breath, and years later, Billy Maximoff, reborn in William’s body, ends up watching Alice’s tragic end. It’s a fate-twisting, time-bending move that shows the witchy web Agatha’s been spinning all along.

Whispers of Billy and Tommy

William Encounters Familiar Voices

Right after William's heart stops beating after the car crash, Billy and Tommy Maximoff's voices can be heard telling each other goodnight right before they disappear as Wanda brought down the Hex in WandaVision. However, Billy was able to find William's body as the closest empty vessel to inhabit, resulting in the split life that was foretold by Lilia at the bar mitzvah. However, there's hasn't been any indication as to what might have happened to Tommy's soul, revealed to be Billy's reason for walking down the Witches' Road.

Billy’s New Identity Unlocked

A Classic Wiccan Origin Twist in the MCU

Alright, MCU fans, they did it. When Billy wakes up in the hospital in Agatha All Along, he looks down and spots a medical bracelet with the last name “Kaplan.” That’s right—the show is borrowing straight from the comics, confirming that Billy Maximoff’s spirit has found its new home in the body of Billy Kaplan, just like in the original Marvel lore. And those familiar faces? William’s Jewish parents, Jeff and Rebecca Kaplan, are a perfect match for their comic book counterparts.

William’s Wall of Wonders

Hidden Gems of Magic and Adventure

As Billy explores William’s room, it’s like a trip down the ultimate retro rabbit hole. The walls are covered with posters from magic-infused and adventure-packed classics like Alice in Wonderland, The Wizard of Oz, The Black Cauldron, and Bedknobs and Broomsticks. There’s even a poster for The Goonies—only, it’s oddly titled The Goofballs. Clearly, William had a thing for the magical and mysterious. And judging by his magic-themed bar mitzvah, he was all in on the fantasy vibes. Fast forward three years, and Billy’s transformed the room to reflect his Hex obsession and deep dive into witchcraft lore.

The Westview Conspiracy

Billy Unveils What Really Happened with the Hex

When Billy shows his boyfriend Eddie his deep dive into the Hex, Eddie drops some serious intel: the Westview incident was officially explained away as an “Avengers training exercise gone wrong.” But Billy’s no rookie—he’s figured out the real story. Thanks to his research and a sharp eye for runes hidden within the Hex, Billy’s convinced that magic—not a superhero blunder—is behind the entire event. Talk about peeling back the layers of a cover-up!

Guess Who’s Back? It’s Ralph!

Westview’s Ultimate Insider Spills the Tea

In a shady parking garage meetup, Billy’s mystery Reddit contact is revealed, and—surprise—it’s Evan Peters’ Ralph Bohner. You remember him—the guy from WandaVision who got duped into being fake Pietro and Agatha’s puppet husband. Now, he’s left Westview behind, still haunted by the mind games he endured during the Hex. And with this new alliance, it’s clear he’s ready to spill some secrets.

What Really Happened to Sparky?

The Chilling Backstory You Didn’t See Coming

Brace yourselves—Ralph Bohner drops a bombshell about Sparky, the beloved dog from WandaVision. Remember when Agatha claimed she killed Sparky? Turns out, she forced Ralph to do the dirty work, making him poison the poor pup. It’s a gut-punch revelation that takes Agatha’s villainy to the next level. As if hexing an entire town wasn’t enough, she also made Ralph, under her control, hurt the most innocent of creatures.

The Soundtrack of the Witches’ Road

Lorna Wu’s Magic Tune Takes Center Stage

In Agatha All Along Episode 6, as Billy digs into the mysteries surrounding the Hex and Agatha Harkness, Lorna Wu’s rendition of the “Witches’ Road Ballad” plays in the background. We first heard it performed in reverse during Episode 4 when Lorna’s daughter Alice and the rest of the coven sang it. But now, for the first time, we’re hearing the actual rock ballad as it was meant to be played. It’s eerie, it’s epic, and it’s the perfect witchy vibe for the MCU’s spookiest storyline yet.

Billy’s Deep Dive Begins

333 Clues & a Hex of a Search

When Billy kicks off his search into Agatha Harkness, he types “Agatha Harkness Ancient Witch” into Looky and, surprise surprise, he gets exactly 333 partial results. And, if you’ve been paying attention, that 3:33 clock time from Episode 1’s interrogation scene suddenly clicks into place—definitely no coincidence there!

Among the search results, Billy stumbles upon The Macabre Wiki, an encyclopedia “created by two blood witches from Salem” that covers all things that go bump in the night. There’s also a Witchy Resource page that casually drops some intel about ancient witches and warlocks being “not well documented traditionally” (big shocker, right?) and hints that these mystical types have good reasons for keeping their secrets.

But here’s the real kicker—Billy finds an entry on how witches can choose their age and appearance, stopping their aging at will to stay looking thirty-something for centuries. Talk about defying time!

Finally, he hits up Dreadit and finds threads speculating on the Salem Witch Trials (SWT for short). One user points out that there are actual reports of witches surviving drowning and burning. Looks like Agatha’s ancient game of hide and seek is about to unravel, and Billy’s just getting started.

Agatha’s Dark Digital Footprint

From Salem to Jolene—The Witch Is Everywhere

As Billy dives deep into Agatha Harkness’s past, he uncovers some serious historical tea. He stumbles upon threads in the DreadIt forum—an underground community where users like “witchygirlblack” and “4thlevelwarlock” speculate about witches surviving the Salem Witch Trials. One post even mentions Evanora Harkness’s coven and hints that some of the young children escaped. When user “SamSamwitch” drops an image of Agatha Harkness, Billy follows the trail using Looky image search. What he finds is wild.

The search leads him to the Bellecross Daily Tribune, revealing that Agatha was listed as a missing resident after the Hindenburg disaster. But that’s not all—Billy finds a 1972 surveillance photo on a site claiming to show Dolly Parton with the “real Jolene.” Yep, someone’s suggesting Agatha was the homewrecker behind that iconic song, stirring up trouble with Dolly’s husband.

Digging deeper, Billy lands on Brujapedia, the self-proclaimed “Encyclopedia of Witches.” The site lays it all out—Agatha’s been spotted throughout history, from The Titanic to Nashville, Tennessee, in 1973. And the kicker? She’s got some seriously dark credentials: murdering her coven, possessing succubus powers, and being the only known survivor of the Witches’ Road.

As Billy reads on, Lorna’s Ballad starts playing, and he realizes he’s just scratched the surface of Agatha’s long, twisted legacy. This witch’s been weaving her chaos for centuries, and it’s all right there for anyone willing to follow the digital breadcrumbs.

Agatha’s Fashion Swipe

Ralph’s Family Reunion Just Got Weird

In Agatha All Along Episode 1, when we revisit the interrogation scene through Billy’s eyes, we finally get the full picture of Agatha’s antics. Turns out, while she was under the spell thinking she was a detective, she was rocking a “Bohner Family Reunion” shirt the entire time. Looks like Agatha’s not above a little wardrobe theft—especially when it involves messing with Ralph’s life even more.

[chimkennuggies]

Again with the Raphael x Cazador agenda bc I'm still losing my mind over them‼️‼️‼️

Anyway, thought I'd share some headcanons bellow the cut as well:

- I just KNOW they both have hour long conversations about some play they've seen or book they've read. Their taste is similar in that aspect.

- Raphael knows about Lady Incognita's books (that's canon btw) and mentioned it to Cazador once, who instantly started ranting about how the girl didn't appreciate the "gift" (he doesn't appreciate it either if you think about all that datamined/beta stuff + how much he just wants to be "normal" BUT he is also a hypocrite sooo), also, he used to give advice to her whenever he found one of her drafts.

- In a modern setting Raphael would probably be like those annoying filmbros who doesn't stfu about some niche film they've seen and Cazador would be the same with some celtic metal group that has like 24 monthly listeners (kinda projecting in this one, I'm both).

- They would talk shit about anyone + if they go to some ball together after the first 40 minutes they'll probably end up talking only to each other.

- On the hc that both of them are trans, Cazador hasn't had any operations and isn't on t (although it's not bc he's comfortable in his own body but bc he doesn't want to have anything to do with it, he just prefers to live with an idealized version he made on his head after centuries of not seeing his reflection), Raphael is literally the opposite, he has had all the operations and has been on t since he ran away from Cania, hating the self he left behind.

- Now, some shoutouts to the fact that they're both SO AWFUL, I love them being so so toxic.

- Cazador usually doesn't like being touched and Raphael just thrives on being an asshole so he's always breaking the man's boundaries. PDA in the worst possible way.

- Cazador enjoys to compare Raphael to his father because he finds it extremely entertaining the fact that he takes it at heart and gets so offended by it (he knows how much the other has suffered because of his progenitor).

- Cazador having scars on his body from before being a vampire and Raphael biting them‼️‼️

-Raphael listening to Cazador talking shit about all of Raphael's features he despises just to make him even more insecure (let's be real, Raphael is SO fucking self-conscious, because there's no way all his paintings and Haarlep themself being so completely different to his real self is a normal trait).

- Both of them being prone to violence and fighting for every minor disagreement would make them the worst neighbors possible ngl.

- Raphael having the lower canines really really sharp while Cazador has the cuspid canines being almost razor-edged, iykyk.

Lastly, here are some songs I associate w/ them because I haven't seen any playlist include these:

Cazador:

Rule #34 - Fish in a Birdcage

Femtex - Therapy?

Never Wanted to Dance - MSI

Under the Spell - Me And That Man

Heel On The Shovel - 16 Horsepower

Raphael:

The Hell Of It - Paul Williams

Low Estate - 16 Horsepower

Nunemaker's Parable - Everybody's Worried About Owen

You're So Vain - Carly Simon

Bensonhurst Blues - Oscar Benton

An this one is just bc I find it quite funny but Mi Gran Noche from Raphael (the spanish singer) is quite iconic ngl.

[dkettchen]

In other news: Better Man (Robbie Williams' biopic but he's a ape) is incredible and everyone should watch it

that man's music shaped my childhood bc europe loves him (I only heard of Robin Williams in adulthood bc we literally only knew Robbie over here)

man watched planet of the apes and said "omg he's literally me" and he's so valid for that lmao

as the resident mancunian I am legally obligated to give a shoutout to anything that has Manchester mentions in it, let alone teaching ppl outside the midlands about Stoke-on-Trent's existence (the train goes through there if you go to London! it's near Stafford where my friends live!)

chav rep, lesgooo

I dunno if I have lived here long enough to count yet but if and when I do I need a "northern scum" beanie, I need it so badly

also generally 10/10 extra af men's fashion, I needed that, my skin is clear, my crops are watered, my own megalomania in fashion and entertainment got a second wind

shit got real in there bc it is still a biopic

I am thankful for every last addict who didn't die of their addiction-related experiences, thankful for every last one of them that's still alive today

boy band stans: know ur fucking history

also holy shit am I looking forward to when the kpops get their own biopics in a few decades

yes it is a musical, why are you even asking, of course it's a musical

spoilers: if I told you there's a scene of ape-Robbie gruesomely murdering every other version of himself in a fray that looks like it's some kind of planet of the apes fever dream, would you believe me

man is so dramatic (affectionate)

*various gushing about how good the vfx & design & aesthetics & everything was, how much they managed to make the dang monkey look like the real guy both in movement/maneurisms and the model's wrinkles & scowl somehow, how good the interactions w the cg character were, etc etc etc*

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @corrodedcoffinfest.

Bandmates Wanted

Day #2 - Prompt: In the Beginning | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: None | POV: Jeff | Pairing: None | Tags: Forming Corroded Coffin, Meeting Each Other, Shoutout to Mr. Clarke For Supporting Kids and Their Dreams

It's probably overkill, but Jeff sticks another piece of tape on the flyer, making sure it'll stay put in the school hallway. When he's done, he takes a step back and looks at his handiwork. 

It's a little crooked. Damn.

Oh well, it still gets the point across, he supposes. 

He's not sure how this will go. There might not be any bites, and if there are, they might all suck. Mr. Clarke said he'd supervise the auditions, even if they fell out of his purview, whatever that is. Jeff's glad. He's nervous, and having someone else there, looking like they're in charge, might help. 

The AV room is small, but Jeff isn't expecting much of a turn out, but he'll just have to wait and see what Friday brings.

"Is this Jeff?" the voice on the phone asks, a woman.

"Yes?"

"Hi, Jeff. I'm Carolyn Jones. I'm calling about your band auditions."

"Oh, um. They're really only for kids," he says, unsure.

She laughs, "Yes, I'm aware. I'm calling for my son. He was interested, and I just wanted to know more, before I gave him the okay."

What kind of sissy baby needs his mommy to call for him? Probably nobody that belongs in a heavy metal band, that's for sure. But Jeff's mom would kill him if he isn't polite, especially to another adult, so he bites his tongue. He definitely doesn't have to let the kid in the band, though, that's for dang sure.

"Um, okay, what questions do you have?" he asks, kind of regretting that he ever put his number on the flyer. 

"Well, I'm not really sure," she says with a laugh, and it's warm, kind. He doesn't feel like she's judging him, somehow.

"Okay. Um, I'm Jeff. Williams. I'm in the seventh grade. I play the guitar, and sing a little bit. But if someone better comes along, I'm totally fine with giving that up."

"Well, Gareth doesn't sing, I don't think. He plays the drums, and is a year younger than you."

"Does he have drums?" Jeff asks.

"He does."

"Is he good?" Jeff asks, and she laughs.

"Well, I'm his mother, so I'm a little biased. But I think so."

Jeff laughs, "Have him come to Mr. Clarke's room on Friday. He doesn't need to bring his own drums. Mr. Clarke is borrowing a kit from the band room."

She asks a few more questions, and then finally hangs up.

Jeff goes and digs out his sister's yearbook from last year, so he can see what this kid looks like. 

And there he is, a tiny twerp with a mop of messy curls. Jeff sure hopes he's grown since then. Or, maybe Jeff will have other options, better options, and won't have to let this little kid in his band. 

Come Friday, Jeff's nervous. Really nervous. Only one slip has been taken from the flyer, and he suspects that went home with Gareth to his mommy.

It's five after six, and nobody showed up.

"It's okay, Jeffery. It's still early, don't worry yet," Mr. Clarke says, and Jeff nods. He hopes that's true. 

Then they both hear a commotion, and a cymbal crashing against the tile floor in the hallway.

Jeff jumps up, and Mr. Clarke follows, where they find a little kid, Gareth, trying to drag his own drums into the school, even after Jeff said that he didn't need to do that. Dummy.

The boy's mom is with him, bringing up the rear. Of course she is.

"Whoa, hey, you didn't need to bring those," Jeff says, looking over the huge handful of equipment both are trying to carry, and not very well.

"I told him you said that, dear, but he was adamant that he play his own drums," his mom says, and Jeff nods, because they're here now, and at least somebody showed up. And Jeff gets that. He'd want to play his own guitar, too.

"Okay, let us help then," Jeff says as he reaches for a piece, and Mr. Clarke does the same. 

Then Jeff sees Goodie Goodwin, the snarky, dry-witted kid from his homeroom carrying in a bass. He didn't even know Goodie played the bass. They aren't friends, not really, but they are friendly enough that Jeff would have asked him, if he'd known.

"Hey, we're right in there," Jeff tells him.

And Goodie just looks at him as he walks by, "Yeah, I know where Mr. Clarke's room is."

Well, fair enough, Jeff supposes.

They get everything set up, and then just all three look at each other, like, well, what do we do now? Pick a song, Jeff supposes, but after some back-and-forth, they settle and get started. It's rough, but it's not bad. It could be way, way worse.

And so they play, until they've broken a sweat and Mr. Clarke has put big, heavy earphones over his head, probably tired of the racket.

"I need a drink," Jeff says, "gimme a sec."

He's headed for the water fountain, when Jeff sees Eddie Munson lurking at the edge of the hallway, the new transfer student with a buzz cut, bad attitude and reputation, a guitar case over his shoulder. 

"Are you here for…?" Jeff trails off. Eddie just kind of nods, so Jeff walks towards him, "Why didn't you come in?" 

"You weren't asking for a guitar player," Eddie answers, "but I do like metal. And I play."

"Well, maybe we could have two guitar players," Jeff offers, "that's pretty normal, I think."

Eddie smiles, just barely, but it is a smile.

"Did you have a big turnout?" Eddie asks, and Jeff shakes his head no, being honest. He didn't. Not at all.

"No. One drummer, one bass player, and you, if you want to come play with us. We're not half bad."

Eddie nods, running his hand over his buzzed head like he's nervous, but he finally agrees with a soft, "Okay."

Okay, Jeff thinks, let's do this.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @corrodedcoffinfest and follow along with the fun! 🦇

[romirola]

The Prince Shifter: A Redactedverse/Princess Bride AU (1/22)

Read the Prologue of The Prince Shifter on AO3 here!

Summary: To help Caleum wait out his first experience with Magical Depletion Syndrome, Gavin offers to read him a very special book, The Prince Shifter, a tale of fencing, fighting, torture, revenge, shifters, stealths, vampires, chases, escapes, true love, and miracles!

When Alexis, Princess of Dahlia, selects commoner shifter David Shaw to be her husband, his whole world is turned upside down. Wasn’t it bad enough that his mate, Angel, was lost at sea? To make matters worse, just as David resigns to his miserable fate to marry the royal vampire, a pack of three kidnap him and his cousin. But they’re no regular kidnappers: Asher is overcoming a traumatic past, Milo is devoted to tracking down his mother’s murderer for revenge, and Sweetheart is carrying a grave secret about Dahlia's political stability. Meanwhile, a mysterious, masked stranger complicates the kidnapping and "rightfully steals" away David. Before long, everyone finds themselves in the middle of a daring adventure as they put the bonds of their love to the ultimate test.

As always, any and all feedback is welcome and cherished. Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoy!

More details under the cut!

Rating: T; WC: ~40K words across 22 chapters.

Characters: David, Angel, Asher, Babe, Milo, Sweetheart, Alexis, Quinn, Gavin, Freelancer, Caelum, Sam, Darling, Damien, Huxley, Lasko, Avior, Kody, Blake, Adam, Avior, Porter, Vincent, William, Marie, Gregory Keaton, Brachium, Morgan

Pairings: Angel/David, Asher/Babe, Milo/Sweetheart, Damien/Huxley, Sam/Darling, Freelancer/Gavin

Tags: AU, Fairytale, Romance, Love, Mate Bond, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Suspense, Adventure, Fluff, Friendship, Humor, Banter, Trust, Revenge, Duels, Torture, Escapes, Chases, Kidnapping, Nonconsensual Trancing, Rescues, Found Family, Bravery, Grief, Miracles, Healing Magic, Hope, Happy Ending, True Love, Framing Narrative, Adult Language, All Listener Characters are Gender-Neutral, Pack Feels

This story should come as no surprise to anyone. The Princess Bride is one of my favorite films. I adore all things Redactedverse. It was only a matter of time. For longer than I’d like to admit, I’ve been thinking about how to blend these two wonderful pieces. I humbly offer you, dear reader, the product of those thoughts.

Shoutout to @userkatekane for graciously creating art to accompany this story, which will be linked for each chapter. Follow them for amazing art!

Shoutout to @us3rnam3-r3dact3d for being so very supportive as I drafted the fic and suggesting the use of the Dread Pirate Keaton. Follow him for more fun Redacted content!

Shoutout to William Goldman for writing the film that inspired this fic!

Taglist: Empty. Would you like to be tagged in updates to this story? Please let me know!

[honey-dont]

stex month day five: electra!

favorite actors: jeffrey daniel, koffi missah, mykal rand, john partridge, leon maurice-jones, and lashane williams!

favorite songs/scenes: ac/dc is such a good song, i esp love the olc and update bochum versions where it sounds super off-kilter and kind of creepy. electra throwing a tantrum in no comeback/dinah's disco and getting wrecked in one rock n roll is so fun too! special shoutout to the gl kiss <3

favorite costumes: toothpaste electra with the super long mowhawk and liberal amounts of glitter is always peak, but i like the update costume a lot too! the wig especially, it's honestly mesmerizing to watch. also very fond of on-ice electra he is a banana

favorite ships/friendships: greasedlightning <333 their relatinoship would be such a disaster and i'm here for it. i also like the thought of electra trying to be besties with rusty by constantly inserting himself as a third wheel. also electra & flat top just based on backstage pics...electra brings him home to the components like look i found this stray on the side of the road :)

headcanons: he's the train equivalent of chronically ill! he's prone to random shut-downs (hence the 'unreliable' line) and has to rest a lot between races

unpopular opinion: the monochrome costume is good actually. i didn't like it at first but it grew on me a lot!