#Fic Ask Game

[nobodysdaydreams]

WIP and Published Fics Ask Game (reblog to play and feel free to drop the emojis/questions in the ask box!)

Questions about WIPs:

🥰 a fluff WIP snippet

😂 a funny or crack WIP snippet

😭 angst or sad WIP snippet

🤩a WIP snippet about or with dialogue from ________ [name of a character]. If you don’t have one for that character, choose someone else!

❓ any WIP snippet you want!

Questions about published fics:

📖 a published snippet from _________ [published work of theirs you haven't had read yet, but are curious about]

😔published lines or a section of a fic that was super sad, angsty, or difficult to write?

😍 published lines or a section of a fic that you loved writing?

🎁name a published gift fic someone has given you that you love and can't recommend enough (be sure to tag the author. Or if you don't have an AO3 or haven't been gifted a fic, what kind of fic would you like to be gifted?)

🤔 ____________? [ask the author a question about any of their published works, such as what the writing process was like, what their favorite fic is, or what character they like writing about].

[epickiya722]

FIC ASK GAME: Give me a fic of mine and I'll tell you a fact about that fic and/or ask a question you have about that fic.

Or just ask a question about writing!

[The fic doesn't have be a fanfiction, it could be an original story, too.]

[valyrfia]

🤪 wild card! ramble about something!

I think lestappen is one of the most difficult characterisations of a ship to get right and that’s why it’s become so easy for a lestappen fic to fall flat for me. There’s so much to consider when writing Max and Charles and especially them in relation to each other because they don’t really fit any one trope neatly. Are they friends? Worse. Enemies? Worse. Lovers? Worse. I have read some GREAT character studies of them that hit the nail on the head but for more tropey fics I prefer reading other F1 rpf ships like galex/landoscar/carlando because the premise of those ships are a lot simpler than whatever the tangled mess of lestappen is.

That being said, lestappen still the best shit because for me when it’s gotten RIGHT it hits like pure crack it’s the absolute best.

[shineon3]

hiii!

7 + 13 for Feed my Frankenstein??

Okay so I gave this a lot of thought and here's what my brain came up with.

Florist Daniel whose shop is somehow involved in a criminal investigation, and the detective in charge is, of course, Max. Daniel is a very popular florist in his neighbourhood, and everyone loves him there. And because of the investigation, Max has to spend soo much time in the neighbourhood (he also wants to keep Daniel safe, ofc). He ends up noticing that Daniel doesn't have anyone else working with him. It's just him in the shop. And Max thinks it's a bit odd but nothing much to think about, until he notices things moving around, shuffling the flowers and and arranging them, keeping the shop somewhat tidy and, on one memorable occasion, saving some pots from their fall. He goes to confront Daniel about it (maybe he thinks it's a squatter? Or that Daniel is hiding something?) and he finds Daniel berating tentacles in the backroom of the shop, talking to them like they're unruly children, like "Max is off limits. He doesn't need your help, so behave for fuck's sake" meanwhile Max is just watching like 🤨🤨🤨

[laiqualaurelote]

hello! if your still playing the directors cut game, may i ask about gig officially gigged? anything youd like to say about it! its the first fic i read of yours and i really do love it (as charles' fellow my chemical romance lover)

I am delighted to do more director's cut asks! Thank you for this one about gig officially gigged. I have previously revealed the track listing for the band's debut album (with respective songwriter credits) but I will annotate them briefly below:

SKELETONS IN THE CLOSET (Payne) - Edwin's songs are all a little to a lot macabre, and also usually have puns in the titles. It is unclear if this song is a metaphor for sexuality, or about literal skeletons in a literal closet ACES DACES (Rowland) - fun fact! 'aces daces' was the working title of in this city there's a thousand things I want to say to you. It's a reference to both the band AC/DC and the song A.C.D.C. by Joan Jett and the Blackhearts, which is about a chaotic bisexual LEFT OVER RITE (Payne) - contains what Crystal deems an excessively long harpsichord solo TANPOPO NO KAMISAMA (Sasaki) - this is the band's one song to have made it abroad - it went viral in Japan and became the theme tune of a fantasy anime. Niko makes a small cameo in the anime, voicing a goddess called Dandelion Fairy STICKY CRICKET WICKET (Rowland) - this is one of the song titles taken from the canon caseboard. It is Charles' version of Queen's Bicycle Race and involves him singing rhyming gibberish over a snazzy beat GIRLS’ KNIVES OUT (Sasaki, Surname von Hoverkraft) - Niko and Crystal's riot grrrl moment! they dedicate this song to Jenny at every performance and she pretends to hate it (she loves it) RESTLESS PIANO SYNDROME (Payne) - again, taken from the caseboard. Edwin plays duelling pianos on this one. Against himself. PICK UP WHAT YOU’RE PUTTING DOWN (Rowland) - Charles has filled this song with double entendres. Nobody knows if he has done this on purpose or is oblivious. Edwin suspects it is the former, but carries on as if it is the latter. (It is the latter.) BRACELET ABOUT THE BONE (Payne) - this song, which Edwin claims is inspired by John Donne's 'The Relic', is indeed about Thomas. This bothers Charles a lot. It also bothers Thomas, not that he would ever admit it BURY THE EX (Surname von Hoverkraft) - blues rock number which Crystal first wrote during her recovery after the drink-driving incident, then sat on till she met the band LANTERN IN THE DARK (Payne) - slow rock ballad, deeply romantic, pining visible from space. Charles thought for the longest time it was just another literary reference he didn't get STAIRWAY TO HELL (Payne, Rowland)  - no need for elaboration!

(bonus track)

GOT THE HELL OUT OF HELL (WE AIN’T GOING BACK) (Payne, Rowland, Sasaki, Surname von Hovercraft) - this was basically the band messing about in the studio and riffing off each other; they liked the result so much they ended up recording it as a bonus track, and all four of them have writing credits

Thank you for this ask! I'm also tagging @nix-nihili @ghostinthelibrarywrites and @tumblerislovetumblerislife as they have asked about gig officially gigged previously

(from the end-of-year/start-of-year Director's Cut game - ask me for additional lore or meta about any of my fics last year)

[foibles-fables]

fic writer interview

thanks for the tags, @bluntblade and @mehoymalloy!

what fandoms do you write in? actively and most prolifically, Horizon and ATLA (Chronicles of the Avatar). Others pop up on occasion.

how many words have you published in 2024? 25,926 on AO3 plus however many words Talanah's path of FOTH turned out to be.

what is your greatest achievement this year? Writing a whole-ass game script with branching progression paths. Publishing pieces for two separate zines.

what are your top three fics you've written this year? In no particular order, pickin' different fandoms:

leave the horror here [atla, rangshi, T]

show me the world as it could be [horizon, aloy/talanah, E]

overcome me, baby. [blue eye samurai, mizu/akemi, T]

what was your biggest pit of despair moment? I've had quiet a few. Writing's hard for me, y'all. Worth it, but hard.

what have you learned? Finally enough to start working with purpose on something original.

did you beta any fics? any faves you want to shout out? Some AWESOME Neve/Rook fics by both @melikochan and @rose-s-587! Also, related--I'm considering offering editing/beta services (for fic, original writing, professional writing, anything!) through my ko-fi soon. More about this later, if anyone would be into it!

what three fics have you read this year that you love? I don't read a ton but my peeps have put out some BANGERS. breaking the rules and sharing four:

the greatest thing you'll ever learn (is just to love and be loved in return) by @meg-noel-art [arcane, caitvi]

Interude (Fall Through The Day) by @tjerra14 [horizon, aloy/ikrie]

Is It Worth It? by @kelsochronicles [horizon, aloy/talanah]

Beyond the Veil by @coleyoly [atla, rangshi]

what ideas are percolating for next year? More Aloy/Talanah. More Rangshi. Maybe some Tyzula. Cracking at that novel.

who do you want to thank? @meg-noel-art for being my biggest supporter and inspiration and doing her best to keep me sane. Everyone who's read, enjoyed, and left kind words! I legitimately could not be more grateful for what super cool folks all of you are. <3 <3 <3

tagging: @melikochan @creampuffqueen @http-mandy @coleyoly and anyone else who wants to hop on!

[climbthemountain2020]

2024 Fic Writer End of Year Roundup

Answer and then tag three or more creators to keep the game going!

(If you're in my answers consider yourself tagged if you'd like to play!!)

1. How many words did you publish on AO3 in 2024?

437,868! 

My goal was 100k hahaha I got a little carried away.

2. How many fics did you complete this year?

14 fully completed and posted!

3. How many in progress or ongoing fics did you start this year?

Woof. Lol, one actively in progress fic of just my own, one surprise sequel for January that's done but not posted, one timeloop that’s still going strong, and countless WIPs because I have no self control. Plus three books in various states of completion.

4. What was your favorite thing you wrote?

I think Hope of Spring is closest to my heart because it was my very first. I kind of picked up writing in January for the first time since high school, and having it be somewhere where people could actually see it for the first time and, more than that, liked it, was so insane to me. Sentimentally, that would be my favorite. 

But I think I had the most fun with Flame of Autumn and Your Eyes Whisper Have We Met!

5. What piece was your most experimental or different from your usual style?

Azris! I have never ever written mlm before, and I took it on as an alt in the gift exchange (If Only In My Dreams). I’ve read SO much Azris, but it was my first time writing it and I had such a blast.

6. Did any fics surprise you - either while writing or their reception?

Absolutely Your Eyes Whisper Have We Met. I was so intimidated to start my little feysand one shot because the big feysand writers were who tempted me into the fandom so hard in late 2023. I felt like there was no way I could do it justice, then the “one shot” became 150k lol

7. Do you have a fic you wrote and loved that went under the radar? (This is your sign to reblog/repost it!)

For sure my Helion x Lady of Autumn fic Love You Like Oxygen. I LOVED writing that fic, I just think it’s in a real niche area, but I’m always so pleased when people find it and like it!

8. Who is an artist that inspired you?

This list is endless

@velidewrites @jadedbugart @witchlingsandwyverns @laxibbeb and absolutely a million more. I have such awe for the artists in this fandom--everyone blows me away!

And in terms of moodboards and other creative joys, @octobers-veryown has a talent for it that I cannot comprehend. Truly--every thing is a masterpiece. Did you see her gift exchange bookmarks??

9. Who is an author that inspired you?

I could not possibly name every one haha.

Before actively joining the fandom, I was busy fangirling over @popjunkie42 @the-lonelybarricade @rosanna-writer @separatist-apologist @thesistersarcheron and many others.

Once I joined, that group became infinitely larger! I will read anything by @witch-and-her-witcher @wilde-knight @missfckingfortune @beesays @cauldronblssd @iftheshoef1tz @chunkypossum @secret-third-thing @acourtofladydeath @tunaababee @belabellissima @shardminds @damedechance @foundress0fnothing

and a trillion others. I will say until my dying breath that I think this fandom has some of the most absolutely insanely talented writers in the world.

Special shoutout to @ablogofsapphicpanic for her brave take on my favorite piece of fiction this year.

10. Who is a new author you discovered?

Okay literally everyone though since I was brand new. I am SO inspired by the talent I see on the daily in the fandom. It’s insane to me what so many of you can do.

11. Did you do any collaborations? How did it start?

Timeloop with the @feysand-hivemindhivemind has been a real joy! We’ve had so much fun running with our crazy ideas this year (shout out to @gaeleria) 

12. What accomplishments are you proudest of?

Everything haha. I was just a new tumblr baby in January. I’ve been reading on Ao3 since middle school, but this was the first year I made my own account to write (I was bookmarking in a spreadsheet in Excel SOS)

My only goal for this year was to write a fic, aim for 100k, and publish it online. 

Art wasn’t even on the table in January, and neither were all the incredible friendships I’ve made here. Frankly, that has been the most important part of all this!

13. What did you learn about writing or creating this year?

That while it IS a wonderful way to improve your craft or should also always be a way to have FUN. I've improved so much this year, but more importantly, I have had such a blast and made so many lifelong friends. That's been the real joy from writing this year.

14. Any advice you’d like to share with new or aspiring writers?

A few things!! First, just jump in!

So much of the fun, experience, and worshipping of writing is just in getting the thoughts on paper. I'm a big outlined, but they're SLOPPY in that first draft. I get an idea and I just brain dump the absolute fuck out of it in a Google doc. There's not a chronological order, not any real storyline yet, just all the things as they come to me so I don't forget them. Having that word vomit step is really vital for me to get everything down. 

Of course I go back later and fix it all up, but oftentimes just getting it on paper is what I need to get going, even if it's ugly on that first draft. 

The same applies to when I get stuck in my writing. Sometimes I get in a space where it feels like nothing is working. Because I hate myself, I'm not one to step away for a bit. Instead I just wrote nonsense until things start taking shape– I don't worry about grammar or anything like that until later. Something about returning to that info dump helps me break out of the funk!

Last but not least, don't worry about the interpretations of others. There are ALWAYS going to be people who don't see the characters the way you do. That's the beauty and joy of reading! But that shouldn't stop you from writing what inspires you! You like a soft Eris? A mean Eris? Do it! You think Azriel is secretly a softie or a huge dick? You want to write the Tamlin healing arc you wish to see in the world? YOU SHOULD. Write what you feel and who cares if there are people who don't like it? 

So clearly my best advice is just to write it, lol. As with all my fics, I could have been more concise and chose not to be 🤣

15. What are your creative goals for 2025?

I really want to focus on not doing a million long projects at once 😅 it won't happen, but it'll be a nice dream. 

Overall, I think I just hit the scene very over excited this year and I burned myself out a bit at the end trying to do everything. I think I gotta set myself some boundaries for how much I'm wanting to do versus how much is a healthy and reasonable amount 😅

I'd also love to experiment with some new pairings and styles too!

[mispatchedgreens]

Hi!! For the fic ask game - ↻ ouyang pov of the sparring scene in "before i come undone" please

Thank you for putting together the evilest question you possibly could, here's 1k of raw sweaty unhingedness as reward

Ouyang’s left hand knuckles still ache from punching the wall yesterday. He thinks about that, about plaster cracking under his fist and about that half a second that Zhu looked scared, how her eyes flew to his hand on the wall, centimetres away from her face. The flinch made the tendons of her neck stand out sharply against the smoothness of her throat for the shortest moment before they subsided back. Ouyang thinks about that too, about crawling in there in his entirety, about taking a nap on her molars and about feeling the vibrations of her vocals from the inside. He hates her so fucking much. Every time he thinks they’ve found a modus operandi and settled down in it, she’ll say some shit like “You’ll sing with me for this one,” and make significant and prolonged eye contact. She’ll say “The track needs it, your highness” and she’ll mean I need it, Ouyang. He knows he’s protesting for the sake of it, because Zhu gets her way as naturally as the sun rising and setting. But he doesn’t want to fucking sing. He doesn’t want to record and immortalise his disgusting high voice, while Zhu acts like his tenor. It’d be less humiliating if she asked him to go on stage naked.

And then this. I could help out. He could help out? Fucking preposterous. Ouyang looks at him. He’s a beast of a man, neck to shoulders and arms. If Ouyang were to wrap his own arms around him, he wonders how much his hands would be able to touch each other. His hands are massive too. Ouyang remembers their hands next to each on the umbrella, and the disparity of their sizes. The tiny shorts he’s wearing have managed to ride even higher up on one leg, revealing a strip of paler skin, and it’s outside of Ouyang’s powers not to imagine what it would feel like for those thighs to be pressed up against the back of his own thighs, knees against the tender, sunless flesh of the back of Ouyang’s knees, an oppressive strength that could turn Ouyang’s brain inside out, make it leak out of his ears, and leave him a receptacle for its brutality.

His eyes are smiling, even when he’s not. Ouyang feels diseased with the fact that he can’t seem to look away from his face. He hasn’t been able to look away from his face for months on end now. This isn’t a problem that Ouyang has ever experienced before. Nor has any other man looking back at him managed to make his gut tighten into a burning hot coal in the same way that Zhu can. Not like this man can.

The man blushes at Ouyang’s scrutiny and he can’t help the spark of tenderness that fizzles inside him. “You don’t have to. It was only an idea,” the man rushes to say. His voice is smooth and deep and Ouyang wants to swallow it right up.

Maybe we should fuck instead, he thinks and the thought makes fury blast through him. They’re going to spar and he’s going to win and it’s going to be humiliating.

.

The sparring mat is no lei tai. It feels flimsy like a glorified yoga mat underneath Ouyang’s bare feet, and it is level with the ground. Still, the moment that the man lowers his stance, placing his centre of gravity towards the earth where he wants to go, where he wants to send Ouyang, Ouyang’s chest tightens like taking four steps back would be a fall to the death. The bet here is becoming fast enough to be able to dart into the man’s open embrace, do damage and extricate himself before those arms clamp shut around him. Ouyang isn’t so arrogant as to think that a properly executed wrestling hold won’t keep him down, especially from someone that outclasses him so much in weight.

Ouyang circles and dances carelessly. He stays high, utilising the length of his legs, kicking and kicking some more. He doesn’t think about it. Every move he’s ever used is stored up inside of him, a horrifying concoction of styles that barely fit together. His heart beats up into his throat, almost like it’s trying to fill it with blood, like he’s going to taste blood. He reaches up fast, to slap a palm flat on the man’s ear and instead gets punched in the mouth for his trouble. It is a consuming, sharp sunburst of sensation, knuckles against lips, lips against teeth. Ouyang wants it forever.

He gets low to sweep a foot at the man’s ankles but he evades it masterfully if not a bit awkwardly. Ouyang almost smiles. The steps back have left his right side open for half a second. Ouyang springs up with the might of a diver pushing at the sandy bottom of the sea and shooting up towards oxygen. His knee connects beautifully with ribs and gut. The whites of the man’s eyes flash with the shock of it and Ouyang is so well pleased he chances a second kick while he’s up there, jabbing with the knee and then hitting with the leg extended, consecutively. It’s not nearly as powerful as the first one and on the return, the man gets him.

He dives into Ouyang’s body like he’s certain he’ll be welcomed, cradled. His arms feel like huge slabs of stone around Ouyang. It’s this that causes his breathlessness, more so than his back hitting the mats with a thud. While he could do nothing to prevent this, he can stack his odds of escape while the takedown is happening. Ouyang gets an arm inside of the hold, right along his body, to crowbar his way out of there with his shoulder. His feet slip on the man’s leg, scrambling against him to find a vulnerable spot. Their sweat makes this an unrefined business, slippery and uncomfortable, fucking glorious. The man’s hair slips out of its ponytail to stick at his brow. He tightens his hold on Ouyang and his smell is potent, all consuming, masculine and thick and Ouyang thinks if he were to open his mouth right now, he’d surely fucking moan.

The need to stay there intensifies to blind him, as a rabbit stays on the road staring at the oncoming traffic. Ouyang puts his escape plan to action, and it requires all of his might and some more of it to grapple the man into the ground. His muscles tense and tense like they’ll all tear in a second, but he does it, he puts the man face first on the ground and sits on his back, victorious. There’s a churning in his gut, a tiny summer storm, hot rain and electricity, his idiot, tiny hands grasping all of that power, all of that man, and shaping him like plasticine, putting him in his place, where he should be, where Ouyang wants him.

He leans down, his mouth tingling from his gums to his trachea, making spit like it’s waiting for company. “Got you.”

[f1-disaster-bi]

Give me a number between 1-100 and a pairing, and I'll write a drabble based on that song in my Spotify Wrapped

[strawberry-daiquiris]

trying to recover from the jondo + 26 that took me out at the knees and greedy as I am, if that's anything, a jondo + 24 would probably be the last nail in the coffin 🙏🏼

a top reader, a top prompt 💕 this could either be seen as a continuation of edging jon and lando ooooor, just another version of them where jon gives lando what he needs because it's safer than letting him try to find someone else who might not be so trustworthy

jondo | oral fixation/mouth play | warning for gagging, choking, being a bit dangerous with plastic objects

for the kink generator ask game

****

It’s boring, when they have to wait around for the rain to clear. Lando’s hit over a hundred in a row playing keepy-uppy against the wall with his padel racket and one of Andrea’s stress balls.

Boring. Like Oscar when he refuses to rise to the bait of Lando’s challenge to try and beat him, retreating to his driver’s room to call his girlfriend, or something shit like that.

For the last five minutes, Lando’s been trying to get his mouth around the plastic of one of his water bottles.

He’s just about made it past the spout, the hard rim of black popping through the straining red sides of his lips. It stings, but in a good way, his eyes starting to water as he feels the smoother plastic start to slide in, the bit you suck on with your mouth poking at his uvula. He must be past the markings now, slipping down the 1000ml to the 900ml. He got to about 850 before, once, but the bottle was smaller. Thinner.

When Jon wanders in, right on time for his scheduled lunch, he doesn’t look as shocked as Lando wanted him to. Just rolls his eyes, chucking a plate of chicken wrap and badly cut vegetables onto the table.

“Lunch. Looks like that might hurt,” he comments. He cranes his neck, looking for Lando’s crotch. “Ah, maybe not.”

Lando smiles, or tries to anyway, the plastic suddenly feeling too hot in his mouth. He tries to tell Jon to fuck off, stop staring at his willy if he’s not going to do anything about it, but the only sound he makes is muffled, like he’s getting choked.

That’s when the panic starts to set in, a bit. He tries to pull at the bottle, but it’s not coming.

It’s stuck, he mumbles, but it just sounds like a hum.

“You bloody idiot,” Jon snorts, leaning close to Lando’s face, peering through his stupid big glasses. “Can you not get it out now?”

Lando tries to plead with his eyes, blinking out tears. Jon leaves it just long enough that he’s starting to feel his heart beat painfully against the shell of his chest before he gently puts a hand behind Lando’s head.

“You’ll have to relax,” Jon tells him. “Or it’s going nowhere.”

Lando tries, he really does, but it’s no use. He can feel himself going a bit faint, forgetting he can breathe through his nose.

He’s going to die with a big fuck off plastic bottle plugging his mouth. The photos of the crime scene will be all over the internet. Someone will leak them.

“I have to do everything around here,” Jon grumbles, as he steadies Lando’s head a bit firmer and hooks his finger in next to the plastic. “Stop moving.”

Lando grabs at his hand, because it fucking hurts, and the whole point is that his mouth is splitting open, so why is Jon sticking more in?

“Stop. Wriggling,” Jon says, teeth gritted, and his fingernails are digging into Lando’s scalp now. He can feel the bits of dandruff flaking off him. “I’m trying to help you, you muppet.”

The air Jon lets out through the corner when he pulls his finger out is enough to break the seal, and the bottle comes free. Lando breathes in deeply, coughing and retching as Jon pulls it out, the plastic covered in spit, bubbling in some of the deeper grooves on the lid.

“What was that about?” Jon asks, wiping the bottle on the expensive jacket Lando wore into the paddock that morning before he chucks it onto the pile to go to the hospitality dishwashers. “If I hadn’t been here you’d have had it, you idiot.”

“Knew you were coming, didn’t I?” Lando counters, picking up one of his crudités and sticking it in his mouth. It feels impossibly small after the bottle, and he clashes his teeth when he bites down too hard. The carrot chops in half, hitting against the swollen mess he’s made of the roof of his mouth before he can swallow it. “Wouldn’t have done it otherwise.”

“Why do I find that hard to believe?”

Jon puts two of his fingers back in Lando’s mouth, but gentler this time. He feels around the bits that are red, pink, in danger of bleeding or already well past that point. Lando can taste the metallic twang when he smacks his lips together, like when you pick at a spot on your lip, or have a nosebleed.

“You have to be more careful,” Jon says quietly, soothing his fingers along the inside of Lando’s cheek. It tickles, sensitive, and if he was hard before, he’s harder now. “It’s one thing wanting this-“

Jon flips his wrist over, and slides the rest of the fingers from one hand in until the bent part of his thumb bumps against Lando’s lips. It takes him by surprise, even though it’s what he set all this up for, eyelids fluttering at the intrusion.

“And another doing whatever that was.”

He jerks his head at the bottle, and Lando tries to make sure his eyes look understanding, sorry.

When he pulls his fingers out, Lando rasps it out too, to really hit home.

“Sorry Jon, I didn’t think it woul-”

“Fuck off,” Jon snorts, plugging his thumb into Lando’s mouth and waiting with it resting on his tongue until Lando accepts the peace offering, closing his mouth and sucking on the digit. It tastes a bit like peri-peri, like Jon’s already had his lunch. “You absolutely fucking did, you weirdo.”

Lando feels his cheeks go a bit pink, and there’s actually a bit of shame that creeps in. Wanting weird stuff comes naturally to him, but acting on it takes a bit of confidence. It’s the same in racing - he knows he’s good, he knows he can take it.

He just needs it to go well to kick him off.

Jon sighs, using his free thumb to swipe the tear on Lando’s cheek, and then he leans in.

“Since you got started, d’you want to finish off before you eat?”

Lando nods, so eagerly he moves Jon’s hand. It’s like they’re shaking on it.

“Idiot,” Jon says, but not unkindly, ruffling Lando’s curls. He pulls his thumb out with a pop. “Go on then, trousers off.”

They always do this before Lando eats, if they can, just in case. He’s never, not really, but he’s gagged a few times when it’s been too soon after a meal, or he’s downed a big glass of water.

Jon gets him to sit on the side of the bed, legs hanging off. They swing about, miles off touching the floor. Lando works himself up a bit, first, spitting on his hand and sliding it along his dick until a bit of pre starts to collect on his tip.

“Eager,” Jon comments, as he comes up beside him. “Open up then.”

They do two things in this position. Sometimes, Jon adjusts his neck, gently pressing it from side to side to work out a knot, relax a muscle.

And sometimes, he loops an arm around Lando’s head, holds it to his shoulder and sticks his full fist in his mouth, until Lando chokes, feeling fingernails brush the sensitive parts inside.

“That’s it,” he says, as he uses his free hand to slap Lando’s own off his dick, taking hold of it himself. “Good boy.”

Lando wishes he could see what he looks like, his dick red and leaking and Jon’s arm disappearing into his mouth at the wrist. The metal of the band for his whoop keeps bumping cold against the tip of Lando’s nose, so he knows he must be that deep. There’s a mirror on the wall, but it’s just a bit too far away.

Still, Lando points at it, even as his eyes roll back in his head, breathing as heavily as he can out of his nose. Unlike the bottle, he trusts Jon not to hurt him, not to push too far.

“Hmm?” Jon asks, following Lando’s finger, and then laughing. “Jesus, really? Fine, just… careful when you jump down.”

Between them, they manoeuvre him off the table, his legs shaking as Jon helps him across the room, still working over his dick. Lando closes his eyes, not wanting to see the full picture too soon, like not paying attention to the start of a reel and seeing the punchline before you get the set up.

“Look,” Jon commands, when they get in front of the mirror. “Come on, you wanted to see, didn’t you? So fucking look.”

Lando opens his eyes.

“What do you think?” Jon asks. “Do you like it?”

Lando nods, slurping around Jon’s hand. His mouth is full of saliva, bubbling out the corners like an overflowing bath.

Jon squeezes his dick, and spreads his fingers at the same time, and Lando loses it, coming into Jon’s hand, lightly splattering the mirror at the same time.

”Oh fuck,” Jon says, with a cheeky smile playing on his lips, the one he uses on the engineers when he’s doing the whole isn’t this one annoying thing like he doesn’t like shit just as weird as Lando does. “How fucking messy are you, mate?”

Jon steadies Lando’s head as he pulls his hand out, positioned over the sink to let him dribble and spit whatever he needs out into the ceramic, tap running to wash it away. He splashes Lando’s face with water, washing away the crusty bits at the sides of his mouth, and the tear tracks on his cheeks.

Outside, the rain has stopped.

“Let’s see you,” Jon’s voice is kind as he tilts Lando’s head up, using his phone torch to check the back of his mouth, like some kind of fucked up dentist. When he’s done, he leans in and kisses Lando. Just a peck. That’s all he ever does. “I think you’ll live.”

He looks to the window, a high rectangle angled so you can’t see through it, and smiles. The sun is starting to reflect on the bright white of the walls, making the room lighter, like a new dawn.

Over the walkie talkie in the corner, Andrea’s voice carries.

“Session will start in twenty-two minutes, everyone back to their places, please.”

Jon grins, nodding his head over the mirror, the drops congealing against the glass.

“Guess you’ll need to clean that up later, won’t you, mate?”

[f1amboyant]

↻ pick a fic and a different ship and I’ll tell you how I’d rewrite it for: The Worst Alpha and carcar:)

✄ what’s your editing process? (i loooove hearing about people's writing and editing processes)

✦ what was your easiest fic to write & your hardest?

💕💕

Hiiii, thank you for the ask 💕

-> ask me more

✄ what’s your editing process?

Interesting question! I'm gonna answer with my writing process a bit, because both are intertwined (and you said you love hearing about writing process, too 🫣)

So for short fics (under 2k I would say), I mostly write the whole thing in one or 2 sittings, with no plan, just an idea in my head. And when it's done I edit multiple times. A first reread to adjust some details here and there, make a few sentences flow better. And then I do a spelling check, with 2 different softwares because English is not my first language so I want to get it covered.

For longer fics, I plan the whole story, I plan the chapters, I plan the scenes. Then I write scene by scene, usually in order. For each scene, I first write it very badly. I write the scene, fast and bad, not caring about beautiful sentences. The idea is just to put words on the page and to block the scene (like in movies). When this part is done, I go back and I edit a first time, going over all this poorly written scene to write beautiful sentences (or as beautiful as I can do), to make it readable, basically. Then, since it's a long fic and that some ideas might have pop up in the middle of nothing, I do one or 2 full reread, to adjust everything, make sure everything is coherent, make sure the character doesn't realise he is in love 3 times in 3 different chapters, go back to foreshadow an idea that popped in a later chapter, things like that. And then I can do a spell check on each chapter and that's it! ✨

✦ what was your easiest fic to write & your hardest?

Easiest: Corset ~ The words just flew out of me, and it greatly helped that @moossings worked on their drawing at the same time as I wrote, so I just had to put their sketches into words and that was so much fun.

Hardest: Steal your art (and your heart) ~ The first chapters were so much fun and so easy to write, I wasn't prepared for the enormous block that fell on me halfway through it. Writing the last chapters was so so hard, for no particular reason. I was lucky I had my dear @drspleenmeister writing with me 🫶

↻ pick a fic and a different ship and I’ll tell you how I’d rewrite it for: The Worst Alpha and carcar:)

Oooooooh, that's an interesting one. The Worst Alpha is omagaverse charlos, with alpha Charles experiencing omega Carlos' heat for the first time and having a whole crisis about if he is or not a good alpha. And truly, I think Oscar would fit that role pretty well too.

Oscar is an Alpha who grew with omega sisters. He knows what it is to be an omega. In theory. But he's never been with an omega. So it's all pretty new. And also, he has this massive crush on Carlos, because damn, have you seen that man?? Oscar was doomed from the start. But he's trying to act like a good alpha and not get overbearing with the omega he fancies, so he stays mostly away.

Then Lando shenanigans, probably. Maybe Lando does it on purpose or maybe not, but it makes Carlos and Oscar meet. Maybe, Carlos is in heat, and he usually goes to omega Lando for comfort during his heat but Lando isn't answering. And when Carlos goes to Lando's room, he finds Oscar there because Oscar is waiting for Lando to return too (maybe Lando asked him over and then forgot, or something like that).

It hits Oscar. The smell. Powerful. And so so sweet. Mouthwatering. Oscar is losing his fucking mind.

"Oh sorry, I thought this was Lando's room."

"You're in heat."

"Pff, this guy," Carlos huffs. "I know, that's why I'm looking for Lando."

"He's not here," Oscar answers unhelpfully, but his brain is completely fried. There's Carlos in the room with him. Carlos in heat. Oscar is gonna die.

"Well, tell him to call me if you see him."

Carlos starts to leave but Oscar stops him.

"Do you need help? With your heat? Until Lando comes back," Oscar offers.

"Sure." Carlos has never been with an Alpha before but this one smells pretty nice and also, he is tired of waiting for Lando, so why not? He's not afraid of a little Alpha rookie.

So they spend a little time together, in Lando's room. It's awkward as fuck. Carlos borrows a hoodie from Lando and sits on the couch, to play some game. Oscar stays with him and offers to help, getting him heat supplies that he steals from Lando (he doesn't care). He doesn't really know what to do, how to feel. It's never been like that in his family. Oscar is a pretty decent Alpha, but he never had to fight the urge to bend this Omega in half and fuck him senseless. But yeah, that's what's happening now. He is losing his mind.

He keeps his wit enough to half ass taking care of Carlos until Lando comes back and saves them from the awkwardness. Except after that Oscar can't stop thinking about it, can't stop thinking about Carlos. If he had a crush before, this gets to another level entirely because now, he knows what Carlos in heat smells like and it's too much for him. Too much to stay away. So he tries to get close, to court him very awkwardly (and never saying officially it is courting). And maybe in his quest to get closer to Carlos, he also crashes with him on track a little too much (oops 🤭).

They're not exactly becoming friends but they're getting closer. And Carlos isn't entirely immune to this awkward Alpha who's courting him, without courting him. It's cute. And he likes him more and more.

So his next heat, he doesn't go to Lando, he goes to see Oscar (Oscar once again losing his fucking mind as he refrains all instincts to fuck/mate/breed with the beautiful Omega). And again and again. They spend more time together, spending heats together. But nothing happens. They just cuddle a little, play games. They talk too, getting to know each other.

Until Carlos says he would like to try spending his heat having sex, because it can be fun and a very good time (Oscar definitely loses his mind at that). They almost kiss already, just talking about it, grinding against each other (Oscar is losing his mind, definitely). They agree to have sex next heat.

Next heat comes. Oscar is beyond excited, he cannot wait to be with Carlos again. But he sees Carlos with another Alpha (Charles, or Max, maybe). And the two are not flirting exactly, but they are not keeping their distance either. And with Carlos being in pre-heat, this could really be courting.

Oscar is devastated. He thought he was a good Alpha, but apparently he's the worst because Carlos is choosing someone else, and why wouldn't he choose someone else. So Oscar spirals out of him mind, while Carlos' heat hits and it's way stronger than before and without Oscar there to help him, Carlos is losing his mind too but for a whole other reason.

So a little bit of misunderstanding, and an intervention from Lando before they finally get together and it's all better, it's all okay. And their first time is awkward as fuck but so hot and Oscar is the worst Alpha but he doesn't care because apparently, Carlos loves it (him).

[marichild]

For the "send me the first sentence" fic ask game thing:

Chuuya sighs, shakes his head down at the disheveled man in front of him, then says "Well, you're coming home with me, whether you like it or not."

hello !!! [ fic ask game ]

chuuran + Chuuya sighs, shakes his head down at the disheveled man in front of him, then says, “well, you’re coming home with me, whether you like it or not.”

“Am not,” Ranpo insists, childish in his protests. He’s not just soaked through, he’s dripping with the rain and blood—what he’d gotten himself into, Chuuya doesn’t know, but he’s sure as hell not getting called into Mori’s office tomorrow and getting chewed out for letting the Agency’s top detective bleed out on the street.

“I don’t think I need to explain to you that you don’t have a lot of choice here,” Chuuya tells him, pinching the bridge of his nose. Why are the smartest idiots the hardest to deal with? “C’mon, up you go. My place is the closest anyway.”

“Why can’t you just take me back to the Agency?” Ranpo fires back, straightening up and stumbling to his feet. Chuuya almost reaches out to steady him. “It’s not that far from here, either.”

“Well, do you want me to?” Chuuya asks. Ranpo presses his lips together, caught. Of course he doesn’t want to trouble the Agency when he’d gotten injured purely because of his own mistakes. Chuuya’s willing to bet Fukuzawa had warned him to sit this one out. Whatever he’d been doing. “Thought so. Now hurry up and let’s go, before I change my mind and leave you to die.”

“This kind of injury wouldn’t kill me,” Ranpo mumbles, but he lets Chuuya sling an arm around his shoulders and help him set a manageable pace as they walk. It’s a hassle to carry his umbrella, but he resolves to just brave the rain and dry off as soon as he gets home.

Ranpo most certainly notices Chuuya activating his ability to make the process easier, but miraculously, doesn’t complain about this.

“You’re not telling anyone about this,” he says as they make their way across the street, rain pattering against their skin, the ground, soaking into Chuuya’s hair. “I don’t want anyone knowing.”

“Sure, sure,” Chuuya agrees tiredly, already knowing this’ll cause more headaches than it’s worth. And yet, he can’t help but feel that he’d the right thing, anyway.

[cbk1000]

🤩 or/and 😍 :)

🤩a WIP snippet about or with dialogue from ________ [name of a character]. If you don’t have one for that character, choose someone else

Here is a snippet of dialogue from Merlin, who is not handling seeing Arthur’s chest very well. “Oh. Any good? You sure you’re not cold? Because I could bring you something. To wear.  If you were. Not that I’m saying anything looks like it’s cold. You know. I mean, it’s all under the covers anyway, so.” He turned back, cautiously, to see that Arthur had arched a brow at him. “Anyway, I’m fine, yeah, really good, temperature wise. Are you?”

😍 published lines or a section of a fic that you loved writing?

And King Arthur was bound to go first on account of being a silly grandstanding cock; and anon he went with Excalibur girded to him; and anon went Sir Gwaine after him, and Sir Leon, Sir Elyan, Sir Percival, Sir Lancelot, and there came after them the passing fair damosels Guinevere of Camelot/Lyonesse and Hunith formerly of Ealdor; and Igraine formerly of Camelot and currently of Camelot. And thence did they come through the forest and into a clearing wherein there was a passing fair tree in the centre, uncommonly green and full-flowering; and on the tree hung manhoods of divers colours and a great spear* thereby.

(*’Spear’.)

Then sayeth Sir Gwaine thoughtfully, “That’s a tree full of dicks.”

Link to fic ask game

[laiqualaurelote]

Oooh! Charles/Edwin, musicians/band/orchestra AU for the ask game? :D

thank you for the prompt! (from this AU ask game - it turned out more a Crystal POV but I think the fandom could use more of that)

“Edwin,” says Crystal, “if you take the fucking theorbo onstage I will kill you myself.”

Edwin folds his arms mutinously around the theorbo, which when stood upright on the ground is nearly as tall as he is. “But we need it for the sound!”

“You literally have a billion other instruments! Play those instead.”

“I do not literally have a billion instruments,” says Edwin. “I literally have three. Are we to have lugged the theorbo all the way to the club for nothing?”

“You did not lug the theorbo here,” Crystal points out. “Charles lugged the theorbo here, because he carries all your shit for you.”

“‘Course I do,” says Charles brightly. “Don’t bother me one bit.”

“Charles, you had to push his harpsichord all the way across Hoxton!”

“And the people of Hoxton loved it,” says Charles nostalgically.

Crystal sighs. “Either that theorbo is going onstage or I am, because there isn’t enough space on there for both of us. Literally.”

“I could stand on an amp,” ventures Niko, “and then there would be more room?”

“Niko, honey, you’re not standing on an amp.”

The door bangs open and Jenny sticks her head into the dressing room. “Why are you guys not ready?”

“Crystal and Edwin haven’t decided if we’re bringing out the theorbo yet,” says Niko. “Also, I’m still doing Edwin’s nails, and he can’t play until they’ve dried.”

Jenny throws her hands up in despair. “Why does Edwin have to have his nails done?”

“I think lilac really is his colour,” murmurs Niko, crouched over Edwin’s left ring finger. “Don’t you agree?”

Edwin, who is sitting primly on a flight case in the three-piece suit he insists on wearing to every show, gives Jenny a regal nod of assent.

“For fuck’s sake,” mutters Jenny. “I should never have agreed to manage you idiots. I could have had all my Friday nights in bed with a crime drama.” She inhales. “Anyway, we have a problem. David’s here. He’s in the front row.”

The world narrows. Crystal hates how just the sound of his name can do that to her, for all that it’s been months since she got out from under his thumb. “How’d he know—”

“I did put it all over Instagram,” says Niko anxiously. “Crystal, do you want to cancel, or—”

“No,” hisses Crystal. “No. I can do this. It’s fine. I’m fine.”

“Crystal,” says Edwin, “with all due respect, you are not fine. You are shaking.”

Crystal puts her head in her hands. “It’ll pass.”

She feels Niko’s arms go around her. Overhead, she hears Charles say: “Maybe I should just go out there now and knock his lights out.”

“Or I could stab him,” offers Jenny. “I’ve got the boning knife in the van.”

“We are not knifing my ex right before a show!” yells Crystal.

“Thomas could sort it out,” suggests Edwin. “It is his club, after all. I shall go speak with him.”

“Like hell you will,” Charles protests. “That arsehole won’t lift a finger to help.”

“He will if it’s me asking,” says Edwin. “Now come on. Do you want to play tonight or not?”

*

Edwin Payne is the last person you’d expect to start a rock band. Piano virtuoso, played his debut concerto at the age of eight, won the Liszt at twelve and BBC Young Musician at thirteen. Had it all lined up: scholarship to the Royal College of Music, orchestras queuing round the block to fling gigs at him. Then: unspecified breakdown. Vanished from public view for three years. As a former child pop star herself, Crystal gets it. Okay, so maybe whatever happened with Edwin wasn’t as extreme as drunk-driving your way into a fender-bender so dire that even your platinum award-winning parents couldn’t buy enough spin to keep you out of the tabloids. Anyhoo. The past is the past. Crystal’s living for the present now. 

Of course, she was aware of none of this when she auditioned. As far as she knew, this band had one cute guy and one dickhead snob who clearly didn’t think any decent music had been composed since the 19th century, and who dismissed her CV with a snide “We’re not exactly looking for Hannah Montana here” — whereupon Crystal looked him dead in the eye and sang, pitch-perfect, the first verse of Caro Mio Ben. Edwin pursed his lips like his mouth was a vinegar distillery and said: “Hardly Bartoli, but I suppose she’ll do.” 

Charles punched him in the shoulder. “Oi, mate, be nice.” To Crystal: “You’re loads better than Hannah Montana. Honestly I’m surprised he even knows who Hannah Montana is.”

Crystal could have walked then. She almost did. She was getting her life back together, out of her parents’ shadows and on her own terms; she didn’t need this shitty little band with its one-half shitty leadership. To this day she doesn’t know why she stayed. Maybe it was the open warmth of Charles’ grin, maybe it was the glint of challenge in Edwin’s eye — a heady combo of affection and spite bubbling up in her chest. 

“So what’s the name of this band?”

“It’s aces, you’ll love it,” said Charles. “Spooky Action At A Distance.”

“That,” said Crystal, “is the stupidest fucking band name I’ve ever heard.”

“It is a quantum science concept,” said Edwin frostily, “not that I expect you to understand.”

“It’s sad,” Crystal went on. “Literally, its acronym is SAAAD.”

“I am beginning to regret this,” said Edwin in a too-loud aside to Charles. “Must we have someone on vocals?”

“Look, will you two just jam together one time? It’ll be aces, I promise.”

“So what does Little Lord Fauntleroy play then?” Crystal snapped. “Does he tinkle on the pianoforte after supper?”

Charles chuckled. Edwin arched an eyebrow at Crystal and held out his hand to Charles, who reached down behind them and pulled out a goddamn Fender Strat.

Edwin played a few experimental chords, tuning up, and then his fingers slid and it was Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata, but not like Crystal had ever heard it, wild lightning runs of arpeggios where every note was somehow picked out with the clarity of blown glass. Crystal knew her jaw had dropped, which she seemed unable to do anything about at the moment. The guitar sang in Edwin’s hands, and he never once broke a sweat or eye contact with her.

“Holy shit,” she said when it was over.

“I quite agree.” Edwin flexed his fingers, then stuck out his hand for her to shake. “Allow me to formally welcome you to our little band.”

[ninnosaurus]

HI NINNO (its thegirlwiththeninjaturtletattoos)

(sry side blog problems)

I would love for you to puree my heart with

15 . "I was yours." and 19. "I wanted everything."

bayverse turtle of choice!

:')))))

HI!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Okay I am so sorry this is so short 😭 I had a much longer story planned out in my head but a few days after your ask I was hit by a cold and I'm still sick. So, I just wanted to get it out before I end up getting SICKER which would result in not... writing it at all :((( so it's kind of... rushed at the end there.

Warnings: Angst? Fluff? I dunno what it contains really Contains: Bay!Leo and a smidgen of Mikey on the side >:)

15. "I was yours" + 19. "I wanted everything."

You know Leo is careful with his feelings. Almost more so than Raphael. Leo’s sole purpose in life was to protect. Atleast, it’s what he believes it is. 

He’s hell bent on denying himself anything positive, anything good. Not until he decides he deserves it. And it hurts you to see him push away food for his younger brothers. There may only be a few months between him and Raph, but to Leo, Raph is still his younger brother and should eat before him. 

It hurts you to see him watch as his brothers find love amongst humans who accept them. Because you see it in his eyes, that he too is longing for it. 

And it hurt you knowing that you’d tried telling him how you felt for years now. But every time he pushed you away. So, you stopped. And you decided it was time to move on from him. Even though you knew he felt the same. You find yourself getting closer to Mikey when he himself had to break up with his partner. You both comforted each other in your heartbreaks. And it wasn't long before feelings started to grow. But that was also when Leo stopped existing in the same vicinity of you. Always leaving the area when you walked in.

Winter has hit New York hard, and Mikey had begged you to come down to the lair so he could use you as a heating pad. Which is how you found yourself under a thick blanket laying comfortably on his plastron, watching a movie. You both jumped when you heard a crash and a “are you fucking kidding me?!”. from the kitchen area. Sitting up you both looked towards it. There, you saw Leo.

The rare look of just pure anger, and frustration, and something else you couldn’t decipher. 

Mikey sit up as you move to sit on your heels.

“You okay, bro?”

The look Leo gave his baby brother when he walked over to the two of you could’ve incinerated him on the spot. 

“Do I look okay?”

Mikey threw his hands up in defeat.

“Jesus, sorry for asking, I guess. Fuck crawled into your shell this morning? You’re usually not this cranky during winter.” He smooched your cheek and you smiled. “You want hot choccy?” 

“Yes, please!”

Leo scoffed after sitting down in one of the bean bags, making you look at him.

“What’s your deal, Leo?”

“Nothin’.”

“You’re not allowed to be mad at me.”

That made him whip his head towards you but before he had time to say anything you continued. Voice laced with hurt and anger.

“I told you. Time after time that I was yours! You pushed me away every single time! And don’t act like you didn’t have feelings for me too, because I know you did. You hurt me! I was yours, and I wanted everything, Leo!”

You get up from the couch and left the Lair. Not even stopping when you heard Mikey call after you.

Ping! @thegirlwiththeninjaturtletattoos

[pagegirlintraining]

✂️🎵 for dancing through life pls? 💜

Thank you Lia 💜 it’s been ages since I’ve gotten to talk (or honestly think much) about DTL. So answering this ask was such a nice throwback.

I’ll start with the shorter answer, which is ♬ THEME SONG: pick a fic and I’ll share a song that reminds me of it (and why!):

There are so many possible songs for this one, simply because of all the routines. But one that isn’t directly involved in it but still reminds me of it is “Power” by Spinall, because the original plan for the epilogue was to let them perform a street dance choreo to this song. Obviously in the end I went less ‘fuck the monarchy’ and more ‘dreamy, fluffy boys in love’. But I still think they’d have killed that choreo.

As for the deleted scene, I picked the moment Simon learns about Wille’s obsession with the ship edits people keep making of them. Featuring Erik being a shithead of course 😁 this is set in chapter 11, during the night of their dinner where Simon first meets Erik as Wille’s boyfriend.

The sound of laughter coming from the saloon made Wilhelm stop, his hand halting its movement right above the door handle in favor of listening for a moment.

It wasn’t like he’d necessarily been worried about leaving his brother and his boyfriend alone for the five minutes it had taken him to use the bathroom. Still, having this audible proof that they were getting along splendidly without him flooded his chest with so much warmth, he had to give himself a moment to process it. To really dwell in this feeling of pure, utter love he felt for the two men whose laughter had morphed more into a series of giggles on Erik’s part and several snorts on Simon’s now. Only then did he let himself press down the handle.

“You need to see this, baby,” was the first thing out of Simon’s mouth the moment he clocked Wilhelm’s presence, an outstretched hand waving Wilhelm over in a gesture so entirely adorable, he thought for a moment his heart was going to entirely melt inside his chest. Erik made sure to prevent that from happening.

“Oh, don’t worry. He’s probably seen all of these already”, he was saying, and from the devilish gleam in his eyes, Wilhelm knew instantly that that couldn’t possibly be a good thing for him.

“What are you watching?” he asked, unable to fully suppress an air of apprehension. In response, Simon simply repeated the same gesture with his hand, and this time, Wilhelm followed his request, stepping over to the sofa holding him and Erik, his hand immediately finding Simon’s shoulder, thumb brushing the side of his neck as he peered over it and onto the laptop screen on Simon’s legs.

He was only mildly surprised when he found a picture of his own face there, an official one that the Let’s Dance Instagram account had used to announce his and Simon’s partnership on the show, albeit airbrushed in a way that made it seem like he was exuding a white glow. There wasn’t much time to wrap his head around this, since his gaze was caught quickly by another face beside his own, this one Simon’s, just as ridiculously airbrushed. He had also clearly been cropped out of the original photo in order to stand closer to Wilhelm, in a way that left them both smiling right at the camera, their photoshopped temples nearly touching.

“Vote for #TeamWilmon” the caption above said, with a whole rainbow made of hearts and two crowns behind it. Yeah, he definitely knew why Erik had been laughing now. And knowing his brother, the next few minutes, if not hours, were bound to be majorly embarrassing for Wilhelm.

“It seems people have decided that we have a team name now,” Simon was saying, clearly oblivious to his inner turmoil, “There’s a whole hashtag and it’s apparently been trending on and off over the last few weeks.”

“Oh. How, uh, supportive of them.”

“They’re really creative, too”, Simon continued, apparently too engrossed in this new discovery to notice Wilhelm’s abysmally hidden embarrassment. “This one person made a compilation of you tripping in practice and told people to vote if they wanted to see the monarchy fall.”

“That… that’s actually pretty clever”, Wilhelm got out, feeling himself relax a little bit. He could handle Simon potentially teasing him about falling down in practice. Lord knew he was already doing plenty of that, and eight times out of ten, Wilhelm got a kiss or two as an apology afterwards. So honestly, he didn’t mind that part in the least. What he was much more nervous about was Erik tattling on him and telling Simon how he’d been actively watching different kinds of videos about himself and Simon lately. So much so that his entire for you page was now basically one big collage of ‘Wilmon’. Because yeah, people were very creative when it came to putting together different combinations of clips of the two of them to all kinds of dramatic and sometimes cutesie music. And sue him, but a lot of times, that combination really worked for him.

Any tentative hope of getting out of this mostly unharmed was crushed the moment Erik cleared his throat, adding a low chuckle eight after.

“I’m surprised you haven’t seen any of these before, Wille. Then again, you’re more partial to the couple montages, aren’t you?”

“The couple montages?”

Of course, Simon would’ve jumped right on that. Wilhelm’s eyes squeezed shut in a pained expression all by themselves. When he opened them again, Simon had shifted on the couch, now fully turned back to face Wilhelm.

“You’re making couple montages?”

And okay, with how not at all weirded out - and maybe even slightly excited - Simon sounded asking this, Wilhelm suddenly felt almost bad that that wasn’t what he’d been doing.

“Not, uhm… not exactly.”

“He’s binging ship edits of the two of you. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’d made a fan account himself at this point.”

Yup, leave it to his big brother to ruin his life.

“You’re completely exaggerating”, he claimed, trying to come off as somewhere between amused and nonchalant rather than as panicked as he suddenly felt. Because what if Simon thought that was a ridiculous, or even creepy thing for him to be doing? What if he disapproved of the whole ‘shipping real people’ aspect of it all and would get mad at Wilhelm for not actively opposing it?

“Oh, am I?“ If anything, Erik’s grin had widened since Wilhelm’s last comment, which kind of made him regret not simply keeping his mouth shut. “So you’re saying if I were to check your Tiktok likes right now, there wouldn’t be anything from, say, last night, when you insisted on going to bed early only to then proceed to watch videos without your headphones until way past midnight?”

“Fuck off, Erik. I was watching a movie and fell asleep in front of it.”

It wasn’t even a lie. He had put on an old comedy for background noise that he’d ultimately ended up dozing off to. There was no actual way for Erik to know that he’d been more focused on the compilation of their rehearsal packages he’d been watching on his phone at the same time.

“Sure, stay in denial”, Erik told him now, his tone of voice making it very clear that be wasn’t actually planning on letting Wilhelm stay in denial about this. And really - “I just thought your boyfriend should know how big of a fan you are of your rela-“

That’s as far as he got before Simon surprised both of them by asking, “Do you have a favorite?”

It took Wilhelm a moment to even grasp the meaning of the question. When he did, he still felt like he needed to check again.

“You mean, like… a favorite edit?”

“Exactly.”

To his utter surprise, Simon was smiling up at him warmly, one hand coming to cover Wilhelm’s on the back of the couch, thumb beginning to draw slow patterns onto the back of it.

“I’ve only seen some of the ones that Rosh has sent me, but I’d love to know which ones you like. You know, just for, like, inspo, if I ever miss you and feel like checking some out.”

His cheeks had started to take on a slightly pink tinge toward the end, but just like the incredibly brave man Wilhelm knew him to be - god, he was so much braver than Wilhelm himself ever would be - he didn’t seem to even think about averting his eyes, or playing anything off with a stupid joke. No, his loving, wonderful boyfriend was looking right at Wilhelm with a soft smile and eyes that sparkled with open curiosity. And holy fuck, Wilhelm was so completely gone for him.

“I’ll show them to you later if you want,” he offered, and suddenly, it was the easiest thing. Because why not own the fact that he liked watching clips involving him and his beautiful boyfriend if it made Simon so obviously happy, and even a little bit giddy?

“”I’d love that”, he was telling Wilhelm now, smile deepening as he continued to stare up at him, their gazes irrevocably caught in one another.

“Urgh, you’re no fun”, Erik groaned next to them, but Wilhelm didn’t even need to look at him to know that he, too, was suppressing a genuine smile, even as he continued, “If you’re gonna keep doing whatever this is, I think I’ll call it a night now.”

“Night, Erik”, Wilhelm quipped without once taking his eyes off Simon, whose hand had now started to travel over his wrist and up his arm, leaving a string of goosebumps in its wake.

“Unbelievable,” he heard Erik mutter, but couldn’t find it in himself to mind the teasing he knew this would lead to in the future even a single bit.

I hope you like it and it feels in tone with the story. It really has been so long since I tried getting into DTL Wilhelm’s head (and writing him as Wilhelm. The amount of Wille’s I had to change in this one, rip me 😂) Anyway, thank you so much again for the ask, and giving my hectic brain something to be nostalgic about today 🥹💜