#juncosracing

my guys smile way too much... thanks <3

Thank you for this even though it did incapacitate me for almost an hour, I got there.

Send me a pairing/name(s) + a one word prompt and I’ll write you a drabble

separate smash and pass… who is who is a mystery…

together smash but mainly bc their dynamic is delectable and i just wanna know how it would go

nsfw-ish text down the cut

SKDMFKSD >:) how did i knowww

in my authors notes on this i claimed that tcot started out as an excuse to make a "get in there, lewis" joke and as far as i can remember yes that was absolutely true.

lmao Fir you know exactly what it is for lover to lover :idonotseeit:

lover to lover:

not quite my usual writing process in the sense that I wrote this for a prompt — I had a very clear idea for what I wanted it to be from the moment I got the prompt, but did not quite realize what I had committed myself to until I was in the middle of it. as I say in the notes to this fic, that was the first time I'd written debauchery and then I somehow was dumb enough to make it three people. yeah idk.

now, on to specifics:

“Well, it’s not hard,” she says.

“I mean, clearly it is,” George quips and chuckles before he can stop himself.

for those who weren't witnessing my breakdown over this fic live, I came up with The Joke™️ about 500 words into writing the debauchery and then it took another solid 12 hours and 1500 words to actually work it into the text. that is very much typical for the way I usually write (or used to? idk man things have changed over the past few months): start more or less somewhere in the middle with something I know that's going to happen, then come up with bits and bobs that will happen after that, fill that out and bridge those gaps, and then eventually figure out some way to start. oh, and take notes on what sorts of pants who is wearing at what point and when they're taking them off. important!

this fic was very much a series of increasingly escalating horny thoughts while suffering through one writing sprint after the other. it was an arduous process but ultimately worth it, I think!

lastly, I've never been happy with the intro to lover to lover and I keep meaning to go back and fix it, but where's the time for that... I was in an (admittedly self-inflicted) intense time crunch and had to have something and I just could not make it work in a way I liked. that's on the long, long list of things to sort out in the future.

new romantics:

VERY different experience and process to lover to lover, lmao. the first scene was the big one! I wrote it on my phone on the train and through months of working on this fic, it never really changed. part of my struggle with this fic was that I wanted it to actually do justice to the concept, because I love it so much — Lando reading romance novels! and doing some self-discovery! so many fics have a great premise but don't really follow through, they're just 500 ultimately irrelevant words of whatever fun premise before it devolves into debauchery, and while that can be nice it felt lazy and not worth the idea I had, you know? so it took a while to pad it (in a way that felt meaningful and appropriate and shockingly like a plot, yeah I know I can't believe it either) and even longer to write the debauchery that would have to happen at the end.

for a while, I considered whether this should be a fic about Lando getting romance/sex tips from books, but I was never fully convinced by that so that part only found its way into the fic as a little joke, is that what they’re teaching you in those books of yours.

other bits I had really really early on that made it into the final cut:

“My mum reads those!” Max says, half in mock-outrage, half serious.

and of course, If he completely stops watching porn and instead perfects wanking one-handed with the other one holding up his Kindle and tapping to the next page at somewhat regular intervals, he really doesn’t want to talk about it. He’d also rather not think about the staggering number of times he’s had to wipe come off the Kindle’s screen.