#simon eriksson

[pretendurgod]

Omar Rudberg | OMR BEAUTY

[pretendurgod]

Omar Rudberg | OMR BEAUTY

[pretendurgod]

Omar Rudberg & Edvin Ryding as Simon & Wilhelm in Young Royals: Season 3 (2024)

[dayagold]

The last thing I wrote?

Thanks @centaurianwisdom for tagging me! The latest thing I wrote is for my current fic that I'm trying to wrap up this week! So instead, here's a drabble-like thing I wrote for this post I made a while back.

Imagine this: before S2, over the break, someone posts online that he's the one in the video with Simon.

INTRODUCING WILLIAM FALK It’s a week until the next semester. Simon rotates between shoveling snow for houses and apartments and dog walking with Sara. It’s a treat watching huskies bound around happily in mounds of snow. Although it’s impossible to try to stop them from shaking snow off their pelts and showering Simon’s poor overcoat and jacket with melting flakes. The good thing about Bjärstad is that he can always find decent-paying jobs. He likes the pocket cash. He has plans to treat Ayub and Rosh, the only ones who keep him sane when the world shows up with nasty remarks. Just the other day, Rosh gave the stink-eye to a pair of girls giggling about Simon in a diner. The downside of Bjärstad is that everyone knows him. They know his face was visible in the video. He’s never going to escape it. But when Ayub makes a smart remark against anyone trying to belittle him, when Rosh makes a sudden move to scare the bullies away, when Sara invites him on her dog walking with no hesitation, and when Mama squeezes him tighter than ever for their daily hugs, Simon knows he can make it another day. “Nice ride,” Sara comments. She breaks him out of his thoughts. Simon follows her gaze toward a gleaming Caresto parked across the street from their house. Simon makes a face. It looks okay. But it’s odd orange stripes make it seem like something that tried and failed to be a racing car. Still, by the look on Sara’s face, Simon figures it’s a glamorous model. The passenger door opens, and a boy steps out. He’s tall, eyes directed at Simon and Sara like he’s been waiting for them. His tan overcoat is thick, and his smart pants and clean dress shoes make him look like he’s stepped out of an office. Simon notices a woman sitting in the driver’s seat. She stays there as he closes the door. “Simon!” he calls from across the road. Simon pauses. Sara slows down as well. The boy jogs toward them. “Who’s that?” Sara asks. “I don’t know,” Simon mutters. His face looks vaguely familiar, though. “He knows you,” Sara points out. Simon bites his tongue to stop himself from saying, Everyone knows me now. The boy approaches them, looking serious. He sticks his hand out. “William Falk. Sprucewood first-year resident. I’m part of the rowing team.” Simon raises his eyebrows. Ah, so that’s where Simon recognizes him from. He shakes William’s hand belatedly. William offers Sara a handshake as well. She obliges, puzzled. “I thought Forest Ridge and Sprucewood are mortal enemies,” she says mildly. “We are!” William grins. Simon doesn’t smile. “What do you want?” William breathes out in a gush. His exhale turns white in the chill. “I would like to offer you a deal, Simon,” William says. “My sister’s a lawyer.” He says this as he nods back to his car. Presumably, the driver is his sister. “Okay,” Simon says. “She has grand plans to sue Hillerska.” “Oh… kay?” “And we think the video of you and the prince is the last straw on that hump of a place,” William says with a smirk. Simon stares. “I don’t--” “It’s the prince, obviously,” William says. “Everyone in school knows. Everyone in our circle knows. Hillerska’s been letting things like this slide for years now. My sister--she’s a Stockholm attorney--she just made partner at her firm; she wants to expose the truth. And I’d like to help her.” Simon doesn’t know what this is, but it does not sound safe. He shakes his head and steps back, pulling Sara with him. “We’re not doing interviews.” “Simon--” “I’m not talking about this with reporters or people like you--” “I’ll pay you a hundred grand!” Simon and Sara stop. “One hundred thousand kroner,” William repeats. “And it won’t be like a sit-down interview or anything. We’ll just have a short little reel or a story that I can post online. When that goes viral, my sister swoops in and represents us in court against the school’s security.” Simon frowns at him. “No interview. No reel. I don’t know what your game is--” “That’s the best part!” William announces, beaming. “We tell everyone I was the guy!”

Tagging @books-books-smolderinglooks if you're interested in sharing the last thing you did for young royals???

🤍🤍

[centaurianwisdom]

Thank you so much @frabacc for tagging me in this! Here's a little snippet of Wille POV that I've written recently!

But the Palace was incredibly stuffy and noisy, so he found a window and stuck his head outside, breathing in the fresh air. 

“Wille!” Amir called behind him. “Where are you? I need to introduce you to someone!” Wilhelm did not want to meet anyone, exhausted, fried and longing for bed as he was. So he stepped on the crates stacked in front of the window and clambered out before Amir could find him, walking away from the Palace on tottering feet. He slid down an incline and yelped when he found someone crouched behind the cement embankment. “Can you please keep it down?” the figure hissed. “I don’t want to be found.” “Um-” “Felice!” drunken, female voices rang out from a distance. “Hey, Felice! Come on out.” The figure - Felice - groaned, and buried her face in her hands. “Hey you!” a brunette yelled at him from the front of the Palace window from where Wilhelm had just climbed out. “Have you seen our friend? Um, pretty, curly hair, black-” “Maria!” another friend nudged her. “What, isn’t she black?” Felice watched him pleadingly from her position. “Um, yeah, I think I saw her,” Wilhelm said unsteadily. “I saw her go that way-” he pointed in the opposite direction “-I think she went towards the dorms.” The brunette rolled her eyes and charged away, her friends in tow, and they disappeared around the corner of the building. Felice sighed and untensed, sitting back against the cement wall and gathering her knees to her chest. “I get so overstimulated,” she muttered. “Thanks for saving my ass.” Wilhelm chuckled. “I know the feeling,” he admitted. “I just about escaped too.” Felice smiled up at him - and oh. Oh wow. Wilhelm’s brain short-circuited and he genuinely didn’t hear what she said to him. “Sorry, what?” Felice giggled - a melodious sound. “I said, do you want to sit here and take a break?” Wilhelm nodded until he felt his brain rattled around in his skull, and sat down next to her, careful to keep a respectful distance. “I’m Wilhelm,” he said, omitting his last name, putting out a hand to shake, which she took instantly. Her hand was soft and covered with pretty rings. “You can call me Wille.” “I’m Felice,” she said. “First year.” “Oh, wait, did you go through an initiation as well?” She laughed. “Yep! But it wasn’t half as traumatising as what I heard you guys went through.” “I have a whole elder brother who went to this school before me, and he didn’t even tell me about this,” Wilhelm complained. “I think elder siblings are supposed to keep it a secret,” Felice said. “All a part of the ‘joke’. I’m just glad it’s over. Anyway, where are you from?” They sat there for over an hour as they introduced themselves. Felice didn’t bat an eye when he haltingly told her his surname and what his family did, which was as refreshing as a dip in a cool, clear lake. Felice’s mother was an old-money socialite, and her father was an immigrant who had risen to the top ranks of Sverige Riksbank. “My father wants me to become an investment banker,” Felice said, twisting her ring around her finger. “My mom just wants me to marry rich. But honestly, I’m still figuring myself out. I only want to do finance if I really want to do it, not because my family expects me to.” Wilhelm started at the side of her face. There was a softness to it that pulled at his heartstrings. “I hear you,” he said quietly. “I wish I had that choice.” Felice knocked her head back against the wall, looking up at the sky. Wilhelm looked up at the sky with her. Far from the city, the stars twinkled brightly in the dark sky. “I think all of us have a choice,” she said. “Sometimes it’s hard and sometimes it’s easy. But there’s always a choice.”

I want to invite @dayagold @malinowaj @books-books-smolderinglooks @milesluvtristan1234 to add to this, but no pressure!

[pretendurgod]

Omar Rudberg | OMR BEAUTY

[eat-the-gras1]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/88234491

[pretendurgod]

Omar Rudberg | OMR BEAUTY