#wilmon

[skibasyndrome]

paging @earlgrey-lateatnight 💜

fatima aamer bilal, excerpt from moony moonless sky’s my body is a slaughterhouse.

[image credit: pinterest]

[grapehyasynth]

non-royal AU where Erik is ill, has been ill as long as Wille can remember, and Simon is hired from the nearby university to come and read to Erik for hours, and Wille lingers in the family library to listen, and he and Simon make cow eyes at each other between the bookshelves, and Erik teases them in turn, telling Simon he can always tell when Wille has entered the room for the way Simon's voice stumbles, just a little, before it lifts on a smile, and goading Wille about his sudden interest in classic literature

[sjmonswjlle]

YOUNG ROYALS FAVES FEST 2024 | @youngroyals-events Favorite moment without dialogue

[loren91]

Happy holidays everyone! Hoppas ni får en fin jul! ☺️💜✨

A little Christmas kiss 💜🎄✨

[zee-has-commitment-issues]

If You Give A Prince A Cookbook (He'll Get Weirdly Good At Cooking)

Wilhelm had a certain kind of intuition when it came to the kitchen. He could taste a meal and tell exactly what it was missing. He could tell if something needed pepper or if it needed salt, garlic or ginger. One time, Simon had forgotten to add a single clove into his soup recipe, and Wilhelm sniffed it out like a bloodhound. It was infuriating.

OR

They're hosting Christmas Dinner at their new house, and Simon doesn't know how to tell his boyfriend that he really wants to cook dinner.

3.6k words on AO3

Merry Christmas! Enjoy this short and sweet wilmon fic from me to you. 💜

[pagegirlintraining]

Sunday snippet

From chapter 8 of NNY, which is… coming along. Slowly. We’ll get there 😅

Entering Simon’s living room felt like walking into a museum display of his own memories, a moment frozen in time before everything had fallen to pieces. Realistically, it had barely been two weeks since he’d last been in here. And yet, the fear of making a wrong move, of accidentally breaking something and instantly being thrown out of the exhibition again was so prominent at the forefront of Wille’s mind that it felt almost bizarre when Simon asked him to sit.

He’d gotten the text asking him to talk exactly seventeen hours and forty-two minutes ago, and judging from the fact that he didn’t think he’d stopped mentally running through every possible scenario of how this conversation would go for even a second since then, he should’ve been dead on his feet. Instead, as he reverently ran his fingers across the grainy fabric of the sofa beneath him, waiting for Simon to sink down onto the cushions opposite him, Wille felt both more scared and more alive than he had in his life. How could he not, when Simon looked the way he did - dark circles under his eyes, cheeks puffy, and a cold, gray undertone to his usually golden skin, and still the most beautiful thing Wille was sure he’d ever seen in his life?

[wilmonshake]

im rewatching s2 and...omar wasn't lying when he said that he looks tiny in the series 😭

[marty-f33ly]

They’re so soft here it makes me wanna die

[misfithive]

Work song x wilmon x hozier

[gulliblelemon]

Not-Quite Sunday Snippet

Instead of a Sunday Snippet this week, I want to say ‘thank you’ to everyone who sent me crowd photos of Omar concerts. It was lovely to share some of your joy and I really appreciated you giving them to me.

I have finally titled my next fic so: ‘Ally Wherever You Land’ coming soon to an AO3 near you!

(Sorry, Omar that @books-books-smolderinglooks had to crop you out 🫣)

“I—” Wille pauses for a moment before ploughing on. “I don’t know any queer people.”

It’s not entirely true. What he should have said is ‘I don’t know any other queer people’.

[dreamyelectronicmusic]

🎄 Hallmark Christmas Movie AU Part 4 - The End 🎄

(part 1) ❄️(part 2) ❄️(part 3)

Boris and Göran were looking forward to teasing Wille about not spending the night in his own bed, but when Wille gets back with red-rimmed eyes, they know this isn’t a time for jokes. Wille doesn’t even want to go see the play in the evening, but eventually they convince him to go since he worked so hard on the flats. Wille thinks it’s probably his last chance to hear Simon sing, so he agrees.

The play is a smashing success. Everyone loves Wille’s work and especially the changes he made. He’s very proud but it’s marred by how sad he is about Simon. He would hate for their last interaction ever to have been a fight, so he finds him after the show.

“I’m really sorry, Simon. I never meant to hurt you.”

“I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have snapped.”

“I just want you to know you’re the furthest possible thing from inconsequential. I’ll never forget you.”

Simon watches him with sad eyes. “I hope you have a nice Christmas.”

Wille won’t, but that’s beside the point.

“Thank you, Simon. You too.”

And that’s it. A sad ending to the best days of Wille’s life and it’s all his fault, but what can he do? A car is waiting to take him back to Stockholm. He has to go back to his real life.

Only the staff are there to welcome him when he gets back to the palace. His parents and brother are at some function that Wille was allowed to get out of, but that ends now. Official royal engagements are all his life is going to be. The hope of escape is too distant to be of any comfort. It’s almost worse than before, now that he knows how nice life can be. He can’t sleep, tossing and turning in bed. He thinks of Boris and Göran’s quiet domesticity, his conversations with Boris, the way he feels when he’s painting. And Simon. Simon, Simon, Simon.

He dreams of him, too. When he wakes up, he can’t believe he let his chance at happiness go without a fight. It suddenly seems obvious what he has to do if he ever wants to be happy and that he has to do it now, not at some indeterminate, uncertain point in the future that may never come.

He goes to see his mother.

“Why aren’t you getting ready?” she scolds.

“Because I’m not going,” Wille says firmly. He’s not going to the gala, he’s going back to Bjärstad. He’s finally learned what it feels like to be alive and he’s not letting that feeling go. He’s going to withdraw from royal work and relinquish his titles. Yes, he’s serious, and there’s nothing she can say that could sway him. They can discuss the details after the holidays, but his decision won’t change.

Then he walks out of her rooms, grabs his coat and goes to the garage to get his own car. He doesn’t drive often, not since Erik was in an accident that could have ended very badly, but the Queen could stop the royal drivers from taking him, and more importantly, he doesn’t want to arrive like a prince.

The roads are busy and it’s snowing heavily, so the journey takes twice as long as it normally would. It’s dark by the time he gets to Simon’s house, and Simon isn’t home. He must be at his mother’s place already. Wille doesn’t know where Linda lives and has to ask locals for directions. It’s a full-on snowstorm by then and the streets of Bjärstad haven’t been ploughed, so Wille leaves his car where it is and makes his way to the other side of the town on foot.

Linda’s living room is softly lit and full of Christmas decorations and plates of cookies. Simon and Sara are there, as well as Linda’s new husband and his children and Boris and Göran, who are there for end-of-movie reasons. The atmosphere is warm and cosy. The only one who isn’t joining in the fun is Simon, who’s struggling to take part in the conversation. When the doorbell rings, he welcomes the opportunity to get away for a minute and goes to open the door.

He doesn’t know what he expected, but it definitely wasn’t Wille, shivering and nearly covered in snow.

“What are you doing here?”

“I came back. I changed my mind.”

“What about the gala?”

“I’m not going. I’m not doing any of it anymore, Simon. I’m done. I just told my mum.”

Simon is stunned. “What did she say?”

Wille shrugs. “She’ll come around. I hope. But it doesn’t change anything if she doesn’t. I’m done.”

“Did… did you do it because of me? Because I didn’t mean to ask that of you, I don’t want to be the reason why you –”

But Wille is shaking his head vehemently. “No. I did it for my own sake. You were right. I don’t want to do this to myself anymore. I want to have a life I actually like. And I… I’d like you to be part of it. If you’ll have me.”

Simon’s heart is beating so hard he thinks Wille must be able to hear it. “What the hell do you think?”

Wille honestly has no idea, but he’s saved from any doubts by Simon throwing himself in his arms and crushing their mouths together. They kiss in the swirling snow, relieved and happy and so in love they barely feel the icy wind.

“Why are you letting the cold in?” Sara calls from the doorway. “You can do this inside!”

And so they do.

[caramelpenguin]

“I promise, it’s fine.”

“You could trip.”

“I’d get back up.”

“You could hurt yourself,” Wille says, exasperation creeping into his voice. He comes to an abrupt halt in the middle of the street, cold fingers intertwined with Simon’s. “It’ll take you five seconds to tie your laces.”

"Lets get to the restaurant first." Simon tugs, but Wille won't budge, and now they're standing still in the biting cold. The beanie on his head does little to keep his ears warm, and their breaths curl into the frosty air like clouds.

Wille lets go of his hand, and Simon briefly wonders if they're really both stubborn enough to stand here and wait for the other to give in. But then Wille drops to his knees.

Simon stares, incredulous, as Wille deftly ties his laces for him.

“I can tie my own laces, Wille,” Simon protests.

“You weren’t doing them a minute ago,” Wille replies without looking up.

"Your knees will get dirty."

"These jeans need to go in the wash anyway."

"But-"

“There, all done!” Wille cuts him off triumphantly, rising to his feet and seamlessly interlocking their fingers again. His grin is warm, despite the cold nipping at their skin. “See? Literally five seconds.”

[crownedwille]

Favourite S2 episode: 2.01 for @youngroyals-events faves fest

[sjmonswjlle]

YOUNG ROYALS FAVES FEST 2024 | @youngroyals-events Favorite sad scenes: 1.03 | 3.03

[zee-has-commitment-issues]

Wilmon and 47? 💜

47 is an Omar song! Also drabble? What drabble? I can't stick to a word count to save my life.

Getting Simon alone in the corner of this party had not been his plan under any circumstances, but he also was not complaining. Wilhelm would take literally any opportunity to get his hands on his boyfriend, even if that meant defiling him and risking their reputation in a room full of their peers.

Usually Simon was more reserved in these situations. A playful tease, sure, with that signature grin that drove Wilhelm crazy, but never one to put on a show. He would kiss back for a moment, just enough to set Wilhelm’s pulse racing, and then pull away with a whispered warning about keeping things discreet.

But tonight was different. Wille wasn’t entirely sure why, and frankly, he didn’t care. The way Simon’s outfit hugged him in all the right places wasn’t doing him any favors. The way he’d danced to the music and pulled Wille closer under the neon lights hadn’t eased anything. Every moment, every touch, left Wilhelm a little more undone.

Their lips disconnected with a smack, and Wille could tell just by the look in Simon’s eyes, in the press of his hips, that they were not going to last much longer at this party. Usually they could stick around for a while, babysit their drinks long enough that they blended into the crowd.

It had been a grand total of twenty minutes, and they were already getting ready to leave.

“Let’s go home,” Wille murmured, his lips trailing from Simon’s mouth to his neck, voice low and insistent.

Simon laughed, held him closer. “We just got here,” he teased. And Wille knew it was only teasing, part of the game. Even as he spoke, Simon was inching them closer to the exit. They weren’t fooling anyone, least of all each other, and they were not going to last much longer here. “Don’t you want to stay? Talk to our friends?”

Wilhelm shook his head, pulled Simon even closer if it was even possible. “Your body speaks to me much, much sweeter.”

Simon threw his head back in a laugh, his neck so tantalizingly close. “I guess I should let it talk, then.”

👀

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