‘coast side’ series | ‘not a punishment’ series | ‘you’re so good to me (baby, baby)’ series | ‘kaleidoscope’ series | 'bloom' series | '"hey, wanna fuck?"' series
Prompts Collections
101 ways to say I love you (with actions) | six sentence sunday (in august) | handy dandy prompts
Fanfiction Theme Events
2023: Alex Rider Ship Week | Young Royals Week | Kinktober
2024: Wille's Month | Alex Rider Ship Week | Simon's Month | YR Drabble Challenge | Wanksgiving | Young Royals Faves Fest
2025: YR Other Characters' Month | YR One Year Anniversary | YR Rare Pairs Week | 10 Days to 1K
Tags [an explainer]
not a fic | fic ideas | fanfic background notes | admin | shitposts | answered asks | replies | omar rudberg | omar's music | omr beauty | ask memes | yrtmau | gävlebocken | mean girls | YRxArt
Summary: Alex, Tom, and Kyra were like a well-oiled machine. (Most of the time.)
"Calculating possible routes to Exit B," said Kyra, "and it is possible. Just barely."
"How barely?" Tom asked.
"Barely as in I'd be more comfortable with Exit C--"
"Exit C is the fucking roof, Kyra!"
"Alex can make it. It's only a fifth-floor landing."
"Just because Alex could doesn't mean Alex should!"
[...]
"Alex will shut off his comms if the two of you don't shut up and listen."
when you're doing "young royals as works of art" are you watching yr and going "this scene/frame reminds me of this artwork" or are you looking at paintings and going "this painting reminds me of" yr?
thank you so much for all them all as well, its always so interesting :)
First off: thank you!
Second of all, let me tell you a little secret: I've only ever seen each season of YR twice. S1 a few months before S2 aired, S2 when it came out, S1 and S2 in preparation for S3, and then S3 again as part of a watch-along party a few weeks later.
I haven't seen the show since.
WHICH ONLY GOES TO SHOW HOW DEEP THE BRAINROT GOES because it's been years and I can still recall scenes and character arrangements/blocking and colour schemes and costume choices and so on (the mise-en-scène, I believe is the proper term) and be like, "Hey, this kind of reminds me of this painting/sketch/statue..."
And that's how the entire YRxArt series was born!
So to answer your question (in a long-winded way, oops!), it's both "this scene/frame reminds me of this artwork" during my second watches of the show and "this painting reminds me of YR" whenever I visit museums and galleries and stuff.
It's also kind of more like... I have a bunch of favourite art pieces and I have this random Netflix show I can't stop thinking about, and from those two distinct things I sort of made this one-off sandwich?
A PB&J, if you will, where I just went "so that S3 Wilmon embrace reminds me of Gustav Klimt's The Kiss, and that Super Emotional Walk Wille does in S2 reminds me of Caspar David Friedrich's The Wanderer, and can we all please agree that Simon is essentially Bacchus incarnate (at least aesthetically) and Sara is a Pre-Raphaelite muse, and and and....."
And then I just kept making more and more and now there are eighty-odd posts and, frankly, I don't know how to stop.
Hello! For the Six Word Sunday thingy, may I request #27. Holding hands, for Yassen Gregorovich from Alex Rider? :>
I'm a day late, but please enjoy my take on some Yassen (and Alex!) hand-holding. I tried to make it domestic, but... it's Yassen and Alex. Is it really a fic of those two without some casual bloodshed and a near death experience?
***
The man who haunted Alex's waking nightmares was dying on the ground before him, his laboured breaths the score in which Alex's own thundering heart followed with frightening ease, and it was to that very music of threat and blood and danger that Yassen Gregorovich tells Alex to find Scorpia, thus turning his secret part-time teenage spy life into a frantic search for the real, unblemished, unedited truth.
Alex Rider, son to the hero John Rider (and nephew to the murdered agent Ian Rider), once held Yassen's hand as the man lay dying, spilling blood and secrets both, their connection a feeble stopgap for what they really needed: time, privacy, and urgent medical assistance.
Fast forward to the destruction of an entire international crime syndicate, a handful of growing years, and a long-deserved break into being a Average Law-Abiding Citizen later, Alex found himself holding Yassen's hand once more.
"Fancy getting a curry tonight?" he asked.
Yassen, retired hired gun that he was, saw through Alex's play at domesticity. "My place or yours?" he replied, a small, contented smile tugging at the secret corner of his eyes.
currently listening to the taskmaster podcast and jason mantzoukas just revealed that he recorded his s21 voiceover cameo WHILE HE WAS FILMING PERCY JACKSON
i'm s c r e a m i n g
imagine Mr D in a closet somewhere in the Big House: he's sort of hungover but not. the walls are lined with pillows (jason says this in the podcast). he's talking to conjured microphone, commentating for the made-up sport coconkers with zero frame-of-reference for the original game conkers
inspired by this poll by @young-royals-confessions
Simon woke up with a jolt and, as he laid there in the darkness, he catalogued his current, recently awoken, state: rapid heartbeat, erratic breathing, his skin tight with gooseflesh and soaked with sweat.
"Simon?" Wilhelm asked with a sleepy grumble. "What's wrong?"
"I..." Simon cleared his throat. It was sore from, presumably, screaming in his sleep. "I just had the weirdest dream...?"
Wilhelm hummed, listening, though Simon did note that his boyfriend of near a decade did not bother shifting from his comfortable position of rest.
"It was when we had our first kiss," continued Simon. "Only Boris was there, too? With a couple of cats and I swear maybe three dogs? Four? There were so many animals..." Simon huffed out a laugh. "J-O was there."
"He hates it when you call him that."
Simon kicked Wilhelm lightly under the covers. "He fell into a hole and it's not like we're ever going to see him again."
"Just say he retired five years ago..."
"What he won't know won't hurt him," Simon insisted.
Wilhelm grunted and nudged Simon back. "Tell me more about these cats."
"And the five dogs."
"No," said Wilhelm, and this time he turned his entire body to sprawl himself across Simon's back--as a sort of big spoon to Simon's now trapped little spoon. "I want to hear about cats."
Simon laughed. "So the dogs were pomeranians..."
Wilhelm retaliated by lovingly invading Simon's personal space even more. "Cats, Simon. Our first kiss was invaded by cats?"
His not long but not short either hair tickled Simon's sensitive neck; he could almost picture their tangled form from a bird's eye perspective, with Wilhelm's sunkissed blond hair mixing shamelessly next to his dark curls.
"And Boris and J-O," Simon added. "But that's not the weird part!"
"Oh?"
"You got a call and you picked up, which," Simon verbally shrugged, "first of all: rude. But it was August on the phone and he told you he was abdicating."
"A strange way to celebrate his coronation jubilee, but okay."
"He also said that your mamma was making a cake to celebrate."
"As if my mamma knows how to turn an oven on."
Simon laughed. "And then you hung up and went back to kissing me, except this time you had a cat's face!"
"Bet I licked you all over."
"Wille!"
"If I was suddenly a cat," Wilhelm said, nonchalant given the conversation, "I'd totally lick you. Your hands. Your hair. I'd.... hmm, what do you call it when cats make each other pretty?"
Simon sighed, but cuddled closer into Wilhelm's embrace. "Just go back to sleep, Wille."
Wilhelm hummed a soft "I love you," already falling back asleep.
"Love you, too," said Simon. "My ridiculous octopus cat, you."
inspired by this poll by @young-royals-confessions
Simon woke up with a jolt and, as he laid there in the darkness, he catalogued his current, recently awoken, state: rapid heartbeat, erratic breathing, his skin tight with gooseflesh and soaked with sweat.
"Simon?" Wilhelm asked with a sleepy grumble. "What's wrong?"
"I..." Simon cleared his throat. It was sore from, presumably, screaming in his sleep. "I just had the weirdest dream...?"
Wilhelm hummed, listening, though Simon did note that his boyfriend of near a decade did not bother shifting from his comfortable position of rest.
"It was when we had our first kiss," continued Simon. "Only Boris was there, too? With a couple of cats and I swear maybe three dogs? Four? There were so many animals..." Simon huffed out a laugh. "J-O was there."
"He hates it when you call him that."
Simon kicked Wilhelm lightly under the covers. "He fell into a hole and it's not like we're ever going to see him again."
"Just say he retired five years ago..."
"What he won't know won't hurt him," Simon insisted.
Wilhelm grunted and nudged Simon back. "Tell me more about these cats."
"And the five dogs."
"No," said Wilhelm, and this time he turned his entire body to sprawl himself across Simon's back--as a sort of big spoon to Simon's now trapped little spoon. "I want to hear about cats."
Simon laughed. "So the dogs were pomeranians..."
Wilhelm retaliated by lovingly invading Simon's personal space even more. "Cats, Simon. Our first kiss was invaded by cats?"
His not long but not short either hair tickled Simon's sensitive neck; he could almost picture their tangled form from a bird's eye perspective, with Wilhelm's sunkissed blond hair mixing shamelessly next to his dark curls.
"And Boris and J-O," Simon added. "But that's not the weird part!"
"Oh?"
"You got a call and you picked up, which," Simon verbally shrugged, "first of all: rude. But it was August on the phone and he told you he was abdicating."
"A strange way to celebrate his coronation jubilee, but okay."
"He also said that your mamma was making a cake to celebrate."
"As if my mamma knows how to turn an oven on."
Simon laughed. "And then you hung up and went back to kissing me, except this time you had a cat's face!"
"Bet I licked you all over."
"Wille!"
"If I was suddenly a cat," Wilhelm said, nonchalant given the conversation, "I'd totally lick you. Your hands. Your hair. I'd.... hmm, what do you call it when cats make each other pretty?"
Simon sighed, but cuddled closer into Wilhelm's embrace. "Just go back to sleep, Wille."
Wilhelm hummed a soft "I love you," already falling back asleep.
"Love you, too," said Simon. "My ridiculous octopus cat, you."
inspired by this poll by @young-royals-confessions
Simon woke up with a jolt and, as he laid there in the darkness, he catalogued his current, recently awoken, state: rapid heartbeat, erratic breathing, his skin tight with gooseflesh and soaked with sweat.
"Simon?" Wilhelm asked with a sleepy grumble. "What's wrong?"
"I..." Simon cleared his throat. It was sore from, presumably, screaming in his sleep. "I just had the weirdest dream...?"
Wilhelm hummed, listening, though Simon did note that his boyfriend of near a decade did not bother shifting from his comfortable position of rest.
"It was when we had our first kiss," continued Simon. "Only Boris was there, too? With a couple of cats and I swear maybe three dogs? Four? There were so many animals..." Simon huffed out a laugh. "J-O was there."
"He hates it when you call him that."
Simon kicked Wilhelm lightly under the covers. "He fell into a hole and it's not like we're ever going to see him again."
"Just say he retired five years ago..."
"What he won't know won't hurt him," Simon insisted.
Wilhelm grunted and nudged Simon back. "Tell me more about these cats."
"And the five dogs."
"No," said Wilhelm, and this time he turned his entire body to sprawl himself across Simon's back--as a sort of big spoon to Simon's now trapped little spoon. "I want to hear about cats."
Simon laughed. "So the dogs were pomeranians..."
Wilhelm retaliated by lovingly invading Simon's personal space even more. "Cats, Simon. Our first kiss was invaded by cats?"
His not long but not short either hair tickled Simon's sensitive neck; he could almost picture their tangled form from a bird's eye perspective, with Wilhelm's sunkissed blond hair mixing shamelessly next to his dark curls.
"And Boris and J-O," Simon added. "But that's not the weird part!"
"Oh?"
"You got a call and you picked up, which," Simon verbally shrugged, "first of all: rude. But it was August on the phone and he told you he was abdicating."
"A strange way to celebrate his coronation jubilee, but okay."
"He also said that your mamma was making a cake to celebrate."
"As if my mamma knows how to turn an oven on."
Simon laughed. "And then you hung up and went back to kissing me, except this time you had a cat's face!"
"Bet I licked you all over."
"Wille!"
"If I was suddenly a cat," Wilhelm said, nonchalant given the conversation, "I'd totally lick you. Your hands. Your hair. I'd.... hmm, what do you call it when cats make each other pretty?"
Simon sighed, but cuddled closer into Wilhelm's embrace. "Just go back to sleep, Wille."
Wilhelm hummed a soft "I love you," already falling back asleep.
"Love you, too," said Simon. "My ridiculous octopus cat, you."
Time for another Six Sentence Sunday!! And with the last day in May this year coinciding (seemingly) perfectly, I'm going ahead and combining it with this year's Domaystic event 🥳
The Rules:
choose a prompt from this list, and then
send the prompt along with a fandom I've written for in the past plus one (1) character from that fandom
I'll write a six sentence story and then queue them up to be published on May 31st for #SixSentenceSunday.
Time for another Six Sentence Sunday!! And with the last day in May this year coinciding (seemingly) perfectly, I'm going ahead and combining it with this year's Domaystic event 🥳
The Rules:
choose a prompt from this list, and then
send the prompt along with a fandom I've written for in the past plus one (1) character from that fandom
I'll write a six sentence story and then queue them up to be published on May 31st for #SixSentenceSunday.
