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Macklin “I don’t really open my mouth much” Celebrini vs. Will “I don’t really close my mouth ever” Smith

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imagining mack hardlaunching this plan like: 'so i have this dude who i love. and i was wondering like... no you guys don't know him no. well maybe you do because i was on the phone with him every five minute at worlds? yeah, that one. yeah the one who won the gold medal that should've been ours, yes. and who i then went to go see after we got knocked out while he was still v much involved in the tournament, yep. anyway so like. i was thinking if maybe... well no he's not canadian, no. no, there's no one else here who he knows... but i thought it might be a good idea if like... no yeah and you can't film him either because he has a sponsorship with a similarish brand... yeah no so all the dudes you hired who are gonna shoot content have to work around that yeah... can't film too much of him, no, though i will insist on bringing him everywhere with me, yes. but no, he won't be able to get any eyes on the brand that is sponsoring the event, no... the opposite, kind of, haha! no, he won't be able to help with the pre olympics team bonding vibe of the thing either, no. well because, he's american, as we have discussed. sooooo i was thinking, mr crosby, that he should come!'

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do you think you will ever make a master list of any sort? love ur fics!! 🫶🏻

Honestly, I definitely should. Maybe I'll work on one this weekend...

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hi I was wondering if you're still working on another chapter of 'nothing scares me least of all you' I love your writing and Im so invested

I am still working on it but my pregnant mack fic currently has me in a chokehold and I need to get it out of my head as quickly as I can before I pull my typical bullshit and think of a new idea and start ANOTHER multi-chapter fic. I'm trying to be GOOD and FINISH a fic for once so I can work backwards and get my other ones moving as well.

I do absolutely want to return to it though!

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https://www.tumblr.com/sleepy-hyperfixations/790693789563011072/willmack-camping-together-mack-what-if-we-get

My Brokeback Mountain Tent Moment

Mack was the one who decided he wanted to go camping so they could be “peaceful and unplugged” and Will had agreed because his boyfriend is cute and dramatic and he hadn't yet realized that he would be the chaos he needed an escape from.

Now they’re in a tiny tent in the middle of the woods, curled in sleeping bags, and Mack is fully mid-rant with his face squished against Will’s chest like he hasn’t been escalating for twenty solid minutes.

Will is laid flat on his back, a rolled hoodie stuffed behind his neck acting like a makeshift pillow while Mack is curled into a burrito of anxious limbs with his hood pulled up, face barely visible in the beam of moonlight coming in through the tent flap.

“But like what if we get Friday the 13th-ed?” Mack asks, voice low and dramatic.

Will exhales hard. “That was at a summer camp. Not just, like, regular woods camping.”

“It’s still a possibility.”

“No, it isn’t.”

“But what if—”

Will tightens his arms around Mack. “No machete guy is coming, Mack. I promise.”

There’s a beat of silence. For a second, Will thinks it’s over.

“What if we get Silence of the Lamb-ed?”

Will lifts his head from the rolled hoodie to stare flatly at Mack’s absurdly serious face. “So now we’re getting kidnapped and skinned by a cannibal therapist?”

“It could happen,” Mack mutters.

“Jesus Christ.” Will collapses back down. “I’m begging you to stop talking.”

“Or like The Strangers, right? Like, that one’s realistic, that one could actually happen. It’s always just some fucked-up guy in a mask. And I know that was a house, not a tent, but tents are so much easier to get into—”

Will finally sits up, dragging his hands down his face tiredly. “ Mack, what the fuck do you think we’re doing out here?”

“I don’t know!” Mack says defensively, hands thrown up like he didn’t beg to come on this trip. “You brought me out into the woods in the middle of nowhere with no cell signal and you’re acting like it’s totally normal. I grew up in Vancouver, Will, not the wilderness!”

“We’re not even far from the car,” Will points out. “Or the trailhead. There’s literally a family camping like a hundred feet from us. You saw them.”

"They could be part of a cult."

Will gives up.

He collapses onto his back and mumbles, “Baby. Please. Enough. I'm tired. Go to bed,”

Mack huffs and mumbles something else, still pressing himself back into to Will’s chest like that makes him any less annoying. It doesn’t.

Will kisses his hair and hopes he’s successfully lulled him into silence.

But twenty minutes later, Mack is still shifting around like a restless toddler. His sleeping bag rustles. He sighs. He flops. He mutters to himself. He bumps Will’s shin, twice.

“Mack,” Will says, not even trying to keep the exasperation out of his voice. “Now what.”

“I can’t sleep,” Mack says pathetically, voice small.

Will peeks down at him. Mack's looking up at him, eyes wide and half-shadowed. The moonlight cuts through the tent flap and streaks across the tip of his nose.

“Scared?”

“No,” Mack lies. “I’m cold. And maybe still kind of scared..”

Will’s silent for a beat. “Jesus Christ.”

He sits up, jostling Mack, and unzips his sleeping bag before flipping the side open in offering.

“Get in here before I change my mind.”

Mack brightens, worming in sideways and tucking himself right up under Will’s arm, all skinny limbs and cold toes and clingy hoodie cotton. He immediately exhales like he’s finally safe, like Will’s body is a weighted blanket and a lock on the tent flap all in one.

“You’re so annoying,” Will mutters fondly, rubbing his hand up and down Mack’s back. “I bring you out to nature for a nice night under the stars and you spiral into a full cinematic murder catalogue.”

Mack hums, cheek pressed to Will’s collarbone. “I didn’t even get to The Blair Witch Project.”

Will snorts. “You don’t even like that movie.”

“That's why I was saving it for last,” Mack murmurs, already sleepier.

Will laughs under his breath, palm flattening on the small of Mack’s back.

It’s quiet for a moment.

“Do you hear that?” Mack whispers.

Will tightens his arm around him. “No.”

Mack hums like he’s trying to hear harder.

“If I die out here, I’m haunting your ass.”

Will grins into the darkness as Mack starts to shuffle around anxiously again.

“Okay,” Will says, voice steady and deadly calm. “New plan.”

Mack blinks up at him, suspicious. “What?”

“If I have to listen to you spiral about movie murders all night, I’m should at least get a Brokeback Mountain tent moment out of it.”

Mack lifts his head immediately. “What does that—”

But Will’s already slipping his hand lower, just beneath the waistband of Mack’s sweatpants, brushing sensitive skin.

Mack’s breath hitches and he's finally stopped ranting about fictional serious killers. Instead, he makes a noise that is absolutely not fit for a public campsite.

Will grins. “See? Better than talking about murder.”

Mack makes another noise. Louder. Less coherent.

“Jesus, quiet,” Will whispers, half-laughing, palm curling as Mack squirms closer, hips already twitching when Will’s hand slides in properly. It’s warm under the sleeping bag, the sound of the forest soft and far away compared to the way Mack gasps when Will curls his fingers. "You're gonna wake the bears."

“You’re the one—oh my god—”

Will strokes him slowly, deliberately, thumb slipping over the head, pressing a soft kiss to Mack's panting mouth as he grabs at the front of Will's shirt like it’s the only thing tethering him to Earth.

“Fuck—Will, Will, I swear to god—”

“Still scared of Hannibal Lecter?” Will murmurs against his lips, hand still working him with slow, firm rhythm.

“Shut up,” Mack shudders, clinging tighter as he comes into Will’s hand with a bitten-off noise he’ll definitely pretend didn’t happen in the morning.

Will wipes his hand lazily on Mack’s hoodie sleeve as Mack settles back against him to finally get some sleep.

“Hey!” Mack grumbles, smacking at Will's arm.

"Night, baby," Will murmurs, pressing a kiss to Mack's forehead as the younger settled back against his chest, promptly falling deeply and heavily asleep as he always does after coming.

Outside, the woods are calm. A breeze rustles the leaves. The moon drifts higher over the treetops.

“Finally,” Will smiles to himself in the dark as Mack's snores fill the tent minutes later.

He knew camping was a good idea.

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This pic kills me every time. Like I too am a mouth breather but this is next fucking level William

will being a mouth breather 😭

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his scheming paid off <3

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Chapter 5 of We Don’t Do Deviations is here!

Cats out of the bag, in Vancouver at least…

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As a mouth breather myself, I still bully him and other mouth breathers.

will smith hockey gets so much hate for being a mouth breather 💔💔 ... what about those of us who are also mouth breathers ?...?? Think Before You Speak Hate .

#mouthbreathersunite #stopbullying

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will is mack’s nepo boyfriend. you understand

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CLOSE YOUR MOUTH SMITTY

willmacksid training evidence omgomgomgomg

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every one of mack’s supposed “close” group of vancouver friends he’s apparently always hanging out with including bedard and kent j watching america fucker william smith somehow get to be mack’s plus one for training with sidcros and not them

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jaiveers on instagram has videos of will training with mack, crosby and others

I did not see this coming in my 2025 off season bucket list

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will smith canadian citizenship iminent

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You know what’s fucking ridiculous?

Cal Foote’s father was named Canucks head coach in the middle of the sexual assault trial. Like that’s just so fucking infuriating to me.

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Literally crashing out at work today it’s been such a shitty day and I just want to log off and giggle over Willmack posts 🥺