#coast to coast
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Quicken
Fic O'Ween Day 10: Spellbound, for the Firefighter/ EMT AU! Read First Burn, Spark (rated E), and Kindling & Embers for previous installments! Coops 'n Cubs belong to @lumosinlove, fest header belongs to @noots-fic-fests <3
TW implied past smut, mentioned current medical emergencies
Keep me?
If you don’t want—
Keep me. Keep me.
I can do that.
Remus Lupin was the biggest idiot in the world. And also stupid. And utterly, hopelessly, unbelievably head over heels for the gorgeous lump of muscle and sweet smiles he had left, adorable and asleep, in a Midtown double-wide.
God, he was so fucking dumb.
You better not be on-call tomorrow morning, ‘cause you’re making me breakfast.
His mouth didn’t always run off on him, but when it did, it always did it with a bang. His bouncing knee rattled the broken edge of his seat and made the lady next to him shoot a dirty look across her phone. The subway hustled onward; Remus glanced at his watch and found that time had not, in fact, decided to run backward and that he was, in fact, officially late for his shift.
Shithell.
He wasn’t even given the mercy of an empty kitchenette to slink into after sprinting the three blocks from his stop to the station. “Good morning, sunshine,” Leo cooed with a smile wide enough to be frightening. He oozed the smug confidence of a man who had more than earned the purple smudge peeking out of his shirt collar.
Remus ground his back teeth against the blood rushing to his face and snatched a mug from the cupboards. The coffeemaker juddered a familiar rhythm. Id-i-ot. Id-i-iot. Id-i-ot.
“How was your night?”
“None of your business.”
“I covered your ass for the last—” Leo gave the wall clock an exaggerated look. “—twenty-seven minutes, my goodness. I think I deserve an explanation.”
A prim sip of tea made Remus’ eye twitch. “I overslept.”
“Exciting. You look sore. Sure you’re ambulatory?”
Remus managed to choke down a knee-jerk defense; something in Leo’s glittering eyes told him this situation would not be made better by a description of his rather athletic night. “Yes.”
“Nice hickeys. What is this, a frat house?”
His hand flew to his neck before his mind could catch up. The panic hit first, followed by a chaser of distilled regret. “God—fuck you!” he complained, shaking his hand out as if that would roll back an instant admission of guilt. Leo buried a grin in the rim of his mug and blew steam at him. Remus snatched the coffeemaker up and gave himself a heavyhanded pour. “It was a good night. I overslept. I’m here now.”
“Twenty-seven minutes.”
“…sorry.”
“No, no, this is worth it. Only your lucky-ass self would find the one call-free morning to oversleep.” Leo’s pager (a preference of the chief) gave a light buzz—saved by the bell. He downed his tea in one gulp, patting down his front pockets the way Remus had taught him during his first week. But then Leo paused with one hand on the wall separating the kitchen from the rest of the station. His chin jerked forward. “Nice shirt, by the way. Don’t think I’ve seen that one before.”
Remus looked down at himself and spit a mouthful of coffee straight into the sink.
--
Hey I’m so sorry.
Nope.
Good morning—
Certainly not.
Hey, I’m sorry, I’m stupid and forgot about my shift this morning even though I was on your case about the same thing, so sorry for saying you could keep me and then leaving you in bed. You were too cute to wake up. Also sorry for stealing your shirt.
Remus’ phone dimmed over the open ‘Messages’ app. Sirius’ Instagram bubble had been green on his last break. He let the screen go dark. Boisterous laughter spilled in from the other side of the station and his heart kicked. No, he thought firmly. Sirius’ team. Not Sirius.
Sirius, who probably woke up alone and cold and confused. Hours had come and gone. He definitely hated Remus’ guts by now.
Don’t fuck your coworkers. How many times had he drilled that sentiment into the heads of his rookies? How many times had Moody drilled it into him? Other stations were fair game, open season, free reign, but don’t fuck your coworkers, stupid. And definitely don’t fuck your coworkers stupid.
Remus’ face heated. He forced those thoughts out of his mind. Under his thumbnail, his phone case bent, and he shoved it into his pocket before it could distract him further. The mental highlight reel of Sirius coming apart under him (around him) was no excuse. He knew better. Sleeping with a coworker was a rookie mistake, but this…this was so much worse, because it was Sirius.
It had been so much better, because it was Sirius.
And he had thrown it away. All of it. Sirius would be right not to look at him after this. He’d be right not to want him.
No more thoughts of dark stubble, or spicy cologne, or the clench of thighs around his waist. No more lingering on Sirius’ wayward grins and soft hair through Remus’ fingers, or the steady way his breath puffed over Remus’ skin when he began to fall asleep. If he could just focus on inventory for twenty more minutes—
The siren slit his concentration down the middle.
“Fuck,” he muttered, checking off a last box of sterile gloves before jogging for the door. Leo was dozing in the window seat he had padded for himself a year back and jolted awake when Remus smacked the wall next to his head. “Go time, Knutty, lights and sirens!”
“All EMS personnel, report to rig 6—”
“Inventory?”
Remus grimaced. “Halfway.”
“Why can’t people ever have convenient emergencies?”
“Make sure to send the next flash flood my calendar availability, yeah?”
They took the corner tight, sneakers squeaking on the concrete. The rig crew was already set up for them—Remus loved it when people took advantage of a slow morning—and he snagged a set of keys off the wall hook with a glance at his pager, chucking them to Layla.
“Bravo on 3rd and Central!” he called to her. “You drive, Knutty and I have the back.”
“On it!”
Go, go, go. If there was one thing Remus loved about this job, it was the total inability to dwell. His keel found even water best when the waves were rolling up around them. Stagnancy was not an option. “D-1, Layla, talk me through!”
“Multiple victims!”
“D-4?”
Her expression flickered for just a second. “Explosion.”
“What’s the Bravo tell you?” Seatbelts, stretcher, respirator. The first ambulance was already out—it would be engines next, then their backup squad. He opened his mouth to speak and found Leo already packing burn ointment into the front compartments. “Nice, Nut. Layla! Bravo!”
“Sorry, uh—potentially life threatening, basic support!”
He knocked on the window between the cab and the rear, and passed a thumbs-up through the gap. “Three for three. Keep it up.”
“Remus!”
“Hi, yeah—”
Remus nearly choked on his own tongue. “Sorry, bad timing,” Sirius rushed out. He pressed close to the ambulance, which was the logical and spatially-aware thing to do in a bustling firehouse, but did absolutely nothing to quell the tsunami crashing through Remus’ insides.
“Hi,” Remus repeated, breathless in the surge. “I’m so sorry. I’m so dumb. Last night was—good, it was really good to—um—multiple burn victims, also sorry for stealing your shirt?”
“We can talk later, it’s okay.” Sirius was looking at him. It was strange. Not…not quite desire, but searching. For what, Remus didn’t know.
The engines roared to life. Sirens fractured his hearing. Layla would have them up and running in the next fifteen seconds. “I’ll be right back!” Remus shouted over the noise, leaning out between the aluminum doors to be heard. “Probably! And—god, sorry I left, that was a dick move!”
“It’s fine!”
“Not really! I didn’t want to!”
Sirius barked a laugh. “I’m glad!”
A laugh simmered in his own chest, fighting to get out. He started to speak again (though to say what, he wasn’t sure) only to be silenced by a quick, chaste press of lips on his own. He sat hard on the cold bench behind him.
“Screaming people,” Sirius said. A grin dimpled his cheek. “Go get ‘em.”
The ambulance jerked forward; Remus kept his side of the doors open as long as he could, spellbound, just to see him stand there against the reds and golds of their shared home. The slam of aluminum and steel dragged him from his dazed reverie. He pressed back against the wall and blinked the stars out of his eyes.
On the opposite bench, Leo clucked his tongue. “So that’s where your shirt went.”
The laughter bubbled free, and it didn’t stop until Remus felt half-drowned from it.
#remus lupin#sirius black#leo knut#coops#sweater weather#coast to coast#lumosinlove#my fic#fanfic#firefighter/ emt au#fic o’ween 2023#fluff
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The Boeing Co, 1958
#707#720#ad#1958#aircraft#vintage#1950s#advertisement#flying#travel#coast to coast#airplane#jet#flight#advertising
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O’Knutzy Week Day Three!!
Camping Cubs ⛺️ This one was so fun to make! I hope y’all like it as much as I did!
Character credit goes to @lumosinlove and as always thanks to @oknutzyweek2023 for organizing.
#lumosinlove#sweater weather#coast to coast#logan tremblay#finn o'hara#leo knut#oknutzy week 2023#o’knutzy#vaincre
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A world's record for a coast-to-coast trip by motor truck was established in 1920, when the three-ton Packard truck shown in the photo rolled into New York just 13 days, 13 hours and 15 minutes after leaving Los Angeles. The previous record was 17 days, 3 hours. The record-breaking truck, which was equipped with pneumatic tires, was made for coast-to-coast trips. Built in 1918, it had already rolled up 120,000 miles. The tires lasted through the entire trip.
Photo: Bettmann Archive/Getty Images
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O’Knutzy Week Day 1!!!!!
I’m not late because I said so also time is a concept. A huge thank you to @oknutzyweek2023 for organizing this fest and to the lovely @lumosinlove for the creation of these characters!!!
Day 1 Prompt: Smile
CW for mentions of food/drink and depictions of internalized homophobia/negative self talk
When Logan was four years old smiles were as simple as breathing. He was all scraped knees and grubby fingers, trailing behind his three (which comes after two and before five…he thinks) older sisters. All he knew was dress up and pirates and that was enough for him.
He had lost his first tooth last Tuesday, La Petite Souris had reimbursed him kindly with several shiny new coins. He had run down the stairs with them clasped in his hand and shouted “Look!” at his maman. His cheeks were round and rosy, indents from the pillowcase still stretching across them, and smiling so hard it almost hurt. There was still blue on his lips from where he had accidentally drawn on his mouth with a marker while rubbing his eye and his mouth made a faint whistling sound when he exhaled through his teeth. His maman smiled back. And that was how life worked at four.
Smiling was a language like French or English. On humid summer days in France, he and his sisters would sit on sticky hardwood floors and sound out vowels through box fans. The giggles and smiles were I love yous, just with fewer syllables. His sisters forced him into dresses and called him gross, but it was okay. They smiled at him like he was theirs forever and he trusted them enough to know it was true.
Smiles were opening presents on Christmas and jumping through the sprinkler outside. They were storytime and birthday cakes and good night kisses. They were stitched onto his favorite stuffed animals and frozen in time in pictures covering the wall on their stairway.
One time he snuck out of bed to sit on the stairs and watch TV through the railing over the backs of his parents’ heads. The man on the TV looked sad and said a lot of big words. He didn’t smile much, he said something about life not making sense. Logan didn’t understand that. Living was about love and love was where home was and home was where he smiled most.
There was a creak from behind him and when he turned around he saw Noelle smiling while holding her finger up to her mouth with a silent shh. Logan smiled back when she sat down next to him. Yeah, it all seemed pretty simple to him.
___
At thirteen years old the world was not simple. It was messy and confusing, it was like someone had paint splattered across walls and asked him what the shapes spelled out. Logan didn't know, and they would smile. But not the smiles that he was used to, no, smiles were different now.
Smiles could be sharp, pointed weapons. Looks shared between boys with letterman jackets across the halls, the ringing laughter after a slam against lockers. Dirty jokes, ego, us vs. them politics, mental gymnastics, I know you are but what am I?, thinly veiled insults, banter, and “locker room talk.”
There was a sense of panic building up inside Logan that he couldn’t pinpoint. He smiled along, though he could feel it not reaching his eyes. Did they see it not reaching his eyes? Is his hair weird? His shirt feels too small, why’d he wear this today? Purple is a stupid color. Stupid. This is stupid. He’s stupid.
He walked into his algebra class and sat down next to some boy he didn't recognize with a huff.
“Bad day?”
Logan’s head snapped to look at him. “Huh?”
“I was just wondering if you were okay. You seem…grumpy.”
And then the boy smiled at him. He smiled.
His eyes crinkled up at the corners and the freckles on his cheeks stretched out. There was a light that seemed to shine outwards from his irises, his hair looked soft and his jaw was somewhere between round and angular. Logan wanted to reach out and touch, and why did his stomach feel like-?
Oh.
Oh no.
Smiles always had teeth, but they had never bitten until then. Logan didn't smile back, he clenched the feeling between his fists and made it as small as it could be.
___
Finn was something impossible. He was a broken clock right three times a day, a city with no people, lightning in a bottle, a tsunami with no casualties, dressed in socks with Adidas slides and brown eyes that felt like a sacrament.
He gave smiles away like old furniture. Here, you’ll get more use out of this than I will. He was unguarded and open and free and if Logan was honest Finn terrified him. Finn was the sun. Logan could already feel his eyes burning, he really should look away, but oh, didn’t it feel so good to be warm?
Logan was cool green stares with walls miles high surrounding them. But, Finn was well equipped with inside jokes, memorized coffee orders, delirious late nights, no-look passes, adrenaline highs, and shared greasy breakfasts. Finn poked and prodded at the hard shell Logan had so carefully put together over four years. Slowly, piece by piece it wore down, floating like wilted flower petals to the floor. Logan could feel himself loosen, feel the tense muscles relax, his fists unclench.
At seventeen, inside a rundown frat house, in their messy, poorly decorated room, Logan couldn't help himself. He smiled, but he swore it didn't mean I love you. It didn’t.
___
Leo was simple. He was like thunder after lightning and the rainbow after a storm. He made sense, slotted into place like he always belonged. He was loud sort of quiet, he had a presence about him that you didn't realize how much room it encompassed until it wasn’t there.
Leo let Logan talk. Just talk. And the best part is he would listen. Logan felt heard when Leo was around, Finn listened too but sometimes he didn’t understand. Maybe it was because, for Logan, English never seemed to be a good medium for explanation, it always seemed one size too small. Leo understood, though, both in English and French. Leo could read between the lines, sometimes Logan didn't have to say anything at all. And that, that was ecstasy in itself. Logan could get so tired of explaining, sometimes he just wanted to be.
If Finn was the sun and Logan was the moon, then Leo was the night sky. Vast and all-consuming in a quiet sort of way, comforting like a blanket, pretty to look at. God, was he pretty to look at.
In a hotel room in a city that Logan had visited several times but never got to know, Leo answered a knock on the door and brought in a tray. He picked a mug up off of it and handed it to Logan.
“Here, I got you some mint tea.”
Logan smiled. He couldn’t lie to himself this time, he knew it meant I love you. And didn’t that just make it all the more tragic?
___
Smiles weren’t as simple as breathing, they were as simple as atoms. They made up everything around Logan and were everywhere. Logan would wake up and smile, eat breakfast and smile, pay taxes and smile. He would stay up late in the night with Leo, fighting with insomnia together and he would wake up sleep deprived and the happiest he's ever been. Finn would come home from a run sweaty and hug him and it would be gross, and disgusting, and really, Logan should be screaming in terror but, against all odds there he was smiling.
It was convoluted, but then again, it was the most understandable thing to ever happen. He was right when he was four, smiles meant I love you and there was so much love to give. In the dead of night, in the blazing afternoon, love was exchanged like playground, pinky-swear promises. Logan would keep every one.
He had been planning it for months, he nearly wore a hole in the rug from the pacing back and forth. He sat in front of them on a blanket in the middle of a field and pushed two small velvet boxes toward each of them, along with letters that bared his soul. He had opted for letters instead of some big speech, he was terrified of not getting the words out right and of switching to French halfway through. Words had always been Finn’s department anyway.
They both looked back up at him with tears in their eyes.
Logan smiled and said, “I love you.”
They knew, of course they knew. Logan said it out loud anyway.
___
The wedding was a summer affair, chairs were set outside by a big tree. Finn had put on sunscreen in preparation.
“This is a setup” he had said. Logan and Leo had laughed so hard that they almost fell off the bed.
“I don’t see what’s so funny about it.” It would have sounded serious if Finn wasn’t smiling, and he was smiling.
After a coughing fit Leo gathered himself enough to say, “You don’t want to marry us outside, Finn?”
Finn paused at that. He was still smiling but it changed into something soft yet sure, like faith.
“I’d marry you anywhere and nowhere at all.”
So it was settled. The wedding would be outside, and if Finn had more freckles on his nose during their honeymoon, it would be a burden Logan and Leo would gladly carry. However, the sunscreen turned out to be unnecessary. Dark clouds had rolled in and rain trickled down around them.
It was perfect, unexpected, but perfect. Like a child, they loved the moment anyway. There was no world where it could be bad, because it was theirs, and it was them, and they were together, and wouldn’t that always be beautiful?
They got married in the rain with wet hair in front of all of their friends and family. Their smiles said I do well before their mouths did, and though Leo and Logan would miss Finn’s extra freckles, it was a small sacrifice.
___
The hospital room was white and smelled sterile. It was much different from the shade of pink that the guest bedroom in their house had been painted.
Daughter.
You’re having a daughter.
Logan had been drowning in shades of pink for four months and he never wanted it to stop. He wanted tea parties, and race cars, and doll houses, and dress up, and pirates, and math homework, and sleepless nights, and play pretend. He wanted it all. He put all of his excited energy into planning the nursery and buying toys. Now, sitting between Finn and Leo in hospital room chairs, he didn’t know what to do with himself. He bounced his leg up and down and tapped his fingers on the armrest, Finn and Leo had grabbed his hands several times to get him to stop.
Time seemed to stop when the door opened. A nurse walked in holding a bundle of blankets.
“You ready to hold your baby girl?”
Before Logan could process, the baby was placed into his arms. She was the tiniest thing he’d ever seen, with a button nose and round cheeks. She fussed a bit, her arms wiggling and feet kicking, and for a moment her eyes opened the smallest amount.
Two pairs of green eyes met.
And Logan cried.
But mostly he just smiled.
#Leo knut#finn o'hara#logan tremblay#cubs#oknutzy#o'knutzy#lumosinlove#Coast To Coast#coast to coast fanfic#vaincre#vaincre fanfic#my fic#fanfic#oknutzy week 2023#o'knutzy week 2023#fluff#marriage proposal#marriage
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O'KNUTZY WEEK ‼️‼️ (it's officially the 31st in my time zone so here we go)
credit to @lumosinlove and a special thanks to @oknutzyweek2023 for hosting this week!
Day 1: Cooking Mishaps
Weekly team dinners had been a thing for as long as Finn had been with the Lions. It had been a tradition that had been passed on as players came and went. More often than not it was sort of like a potluck. Everyone brings their own food to share and everyone is told to bring a different thing every week. Desserts fell on Leo, Logan, and Finn this week.
This was good because it meant that Finn and Logan could actually help rather than ‘attempting’ to assist Leo when they have to bring main courses or really anything that wasn’t cookies.
Logan and Finn could handle some cookies. Leo had faith in their abilities to bake cookies. They’d done it before and the house hadn’t caught fire. He was so confident in fact that he left them unsupervised for a whole 10 minutes to shower.
Leo left an organized kitchen with pans, eggs, and milk all set out nicely as Logan read the instructions to Finn. When he came back to the kitchen floor covered in flour, Logan had eggs running down his hair, dough dripping down the cabinets in clumps, and Finn with something that looked suspiciously like vanilla extract making its way down his face. As Leo stepped into the room Logan dropped a large spoon to the floor and Finn hid something that looked like a whisk behind his back quickly.
There was a beat or two before the kitchen erupted into noise.
“He started it.”
“That’s a lie! He threw the eggs first.”
“In retaliation. Leo-”
“Finn! I dropped some flour and that warranted eggs in my hair?”
“Alright, maybe I overreacted but Leo-”
Leo abruptly burst into peals of laughter. “What the hell happened?” Logan was quick to answer. “J’etais innocent, je le jure! Finn-” Finn huffed, the vanilla extract getting dangerously close to his eye. “Hey, that’s not fair! That’s French I can’t even defend myself if I don’t know what you’re saying, you anserine!” Logan’s face pinched in the way it did when he was confused. He turned his lost eyes to Leo who just shrugged as he grabbed a clean towel (something that was in short supply at the moment) and wiped Finn’s forehead. “What is an anserine?” Logan asked with a frown. Finn just humphed. “It’s not any fun when you don’t understand it, is it?”
Logan glared at Finn from across the kitchen. Finn glared back. Leo gave up trying to stop the vanilla extract from staining Finn’s forehead. “Alright, children, since we can’t play nice we can’t play at all. Let’s clean up and start again. When everyone makes fun of us for being late I’m completely throwing y’all under the bus and y’all have to take it, understood?” Logan mumbled under his breath and Finn turned his glare to the ground as he muttered an audible annoyed, ‘yes sir.’ Leo smiled, happy with himself. “Okay, good. Logan get the vacuum. Finn start picking up the dough.” Finn started protesting immediately. “That’s not fair I didn’t spill the flou-” Leo turned to Finn with an exasperated look. “Finn.” He gave up with a groan, everyone dispersing to their station.
Once everything was cleaning up he sent Logan and Finn to go shower. Maybe if they showered together they’d get over their tiff. Leo figured it would be over before the dinner either way though.
About twenty minutes later the boys emerged from their bedroom, pinkies linked and swinging between them. “Need help with anything, Le?” Logan asked as Leo put the cookie sheet into the oven. “Nope.” Leo said with a fond smile. He loved seeing his boys getting along. As amusing as it is when they’re annoyed with each other it’s always more fun to see them being affectionate.
Logan walked up to Leo and wrapped his arms around Leo’s middle. Leo’s arms came up to rest across the shorter boy's shoulders. Logan dug his face into Leo’s neck and Leo could feel his body go lax against him. Finn leaned against the counter next to Leo and gave him a gentle kiss on the forehead.
“Thank you for remaking the cookies.” Leo returned the kiss that was offered and tightened his grip on Logan. “Y’all are very welcome. I appreciate y’all trying to make them even if it ended up all over the kitchen.” Logan huffed a laugh against his neck and Leo felt chills shoot down his arms.
Leo pressed a kiss to the top of Logan’s head and straightened up. “As nice as this is, I have to go change. Watch the cookies. Literally all you need to do is wait for the timer to go off and then take them out. That’s it. Just wait for the timer. Logan and Finn rolled their eyes in sync before sharing a look. “We know how a timer works, Leo.” Leo just raised his hands in surrender and backed out of the kitchen.
After he freshened up and changed out of his sweatpants he headed back to the kitchen.
He came to a halt when he heard panicked murmurs. He looked between his boys before looking down at the cookies.
The very very burnt cookies.
#o'knutzy week 2023#lumosinlove#sweater weather#logan tremblay#finn o'hara#leo knut#coast to coast#cooking mishaps
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O'Knutzy Week! Prompts: Bucket hat & Summer Vacation
I'll be posting parts making up one story each day this week! It's a cubs au where Finn's spending the summer at his parent's house in the Hamptons and Leo is their private chef. yes, inspired by those amazing tiktoks. Logan will be revealed tomorrow 😏
Characters by @lumosinlove, for @oknutzyweek2023
Part 1
It was a day of full July heat, the kind of day that promises a summer full of sunshine, and you can already smell the sunscreen and salty air. Finn and Leo were sitting outside eating dinner, Leo had laid out a large wooden cutting board covered with the fixings to make world class sandwiches. He had arranged the meats, cheese, sourdough bread, fresh rolls, and chopped vegetables in a beautiful rainbow across the tray. It had been entirely too hot to even consider turning on an oven.
As was their way on these long hot days of summer vacation in the Hamptons, Haley and Ramsey had eaten earlier, and then they spent most evenings at some friend’s or another, returning to the city most weekdays. Finn and Leo tended to eat together a bit later in the evening, so the temperature had blessedly gotten down a few degrees. Nevertheless, they sat in the garden under an umbrella, the shade surrounding them and the smell of the evening flowers beginning to fill the air. Finn always had a book (or ten) to work through editing and he had been spending his days moving with his laptop and piles of manuscripts from one place to another, working in every corner of the property as his attention ebbed and flowed. But on Fridays, Saturdays, and Sundays, mysteriously the best work spots seemed to always be in sight of the kitchen. Those were the days Leo was there.
Leo had been working for Finn's parents for a few years now, in the city and at the Hamptons house. But Finn had been away at school and he had only met Leo a few weeks ago when he came home for a summer in the Hamptons. Leo was tall, taller than Finn even, his hair a bleached golden blonde and sky blue eyes that reflected the summer sky. Today, despite the shade of the umbrella, Leo also had a bucket hat perched on his head, mostly blue, with designs of nebulas and stars and space decorating it. Just the ends of his blonde hair curled out the bottom of the hat, and Finn’s eyes darted from Leo’s eyes to those teases of hair and back again approximately every minute.
Having Leo around was both a motivation and a distraction for Finn. He lived for the time in the afternoon when Leo would sit down, taking a break after cleaning up lunch and before he needed to start making supper. Knowing that was basically the only time of the day that Leo would stop was quite an effective motivator for Finn. He would make sure that he had done as much as he could in the morning so he could coincidentally have those hours free too. They had gone for walks, sat in the shade and read together, or sometimes Finn pretended to do his work and really covertly watched Leo make his elaborate grocery lists. Because the food Leo made was nothing less than amazing.
This Sunday night, Finn was finishing his turkey on sourdough, the tang of the bread combining perfectly with some sort of perfect sandwich sauce that Finn suspected Leo had made himself. The flowers were all in bloom and the trees were the bright green that they got after the spring rains. It was glorious. Finn felt a tether between his heart and this place, this property that he had been coming to since he was a kid. But there was something new growing in his heart too … and it seemed to bloom on the weekends. He doesn’t want it to end. They switched to a fruit pie with cream and sure the food was great, but it wasn’t only the call of his taste buds that prompted Finn to jump.
“Hey, um, Leo?”
“Mmm?”
“I know this is kind of weird, of course you can say no, you wouldn’t have to cook at all! But would you want to stay this week? We can just… hang out?”
Leo paused, gazing at the big brown eyes looking up at him so hopefully.
“Oh, um, that’s real nice of you Finn! But my … boyfriend is expecting me back in the city.”
Finn’s heart skipped about three beats, then raced to catch up. Boyfriend! But, boyfriend.
“Oh yeah! Of course!” There was a long pause as they took bites of their pie. Finn felt disappointment fill his belly even more than the food did. Of course Leo had a boyfriend, he was funny, and sweet, and so gorgeous. Even as beautiful as the property was, he didn’t relish week after week with nothing but his work to keep him company.
“He could come too!”
“Really?” Leo looked up, seeming surprised. “That’s a very kind offer, you don’t have to do that.”
“No really, if you like him, he must be great. And it doesn’t have to be anything else. I just love having you around. I don’t like being alone all week and Alex is barely coming up this summer at all. So, next week, do you want to bring him, and you guys can stay? I promise you don’t have to cook a single thing.”
A smile blossomed over Leo’s face as Finn rambled at high speed.
“Well, he is actually on summer holiday right now. He’s a teacher,” Leo said.
Finn perked up. “Wow, that’s so amazing, that’s even better! What’s he teach? I’ll cook, I promise I’m not trying to get extra work out of you.”
“Mmmhhmm, and what do you usually eat during the week then, Finn?” Leo asked, and Finn knew he was caught.
“Well, nothing like you make, obviously. But I couldn’t put you to work here during the week too.”
Leo smiled. “Well, I’d be cooking for myself and working on new recipes at home anyways. I don’t mind making some for you too. But maybe I’ll let you do the cleaning up.”
Finn felt a prickle of excitement tingle under his skin. “I can clean up! Dishes, sweeping, I know where everything goes, I can do that.” They laughed, Finn glanced away at the line of trees in the distance. He was being too eager. He took a breath.
“Well I’ll have to ask Lo, but I’ll message you tomorrow what he says, OK? It really is such a nice offer. I know Lo would appreciate getting out of the city after a busy semester.” Finn nodded eagerly. Lo and Leo. He wanted to spend the summer out here, but most of his friends were in the city. But next week he could have Leo and Lo in his house. He smiled to himself, trying to keep his excitement in check. They finished their sandwiches as the evening melded into the perfect temperature. Finn showed he could be true to his word by helping Leo clean up, happy for the chance to talk, and to plan and hope for what they could do next weekend.
#coast to coast#lumosinlove#o'knutzy#o'knutzy week 2023#bucket hat#summer vacation#hamptons house#chef Leo#food
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Hello folks! It looks like I will be hosting O'Knutzy week 2023!
We love all forms of fan art over here so anything would be welcome - fics, headcanons, drawings, poetry etc...
I do need some help though with prompts (although can always use a generator if needed!). If you have any ideas send me a message by Sunday (preferably by like midday BST). I know it's soon, but I'd like to give everybody as much time as possible to create.
TLDR; message me with ideas for o'knutzy week prompts please. Deadline: Sunday 2nd July, 12 noon BST.
#sweater weather#lumosinlove#oknutzy#o'knutzy#finn o'hara#logan tremblay#leo knut#vaincre#coast to coast
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Space Ghost Coast to Coast premiered today in 1994.
Happy 30th anniversary to the one that started it all!
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it’s time for my yearly reread of sweater weather and i convinced my friend to read it but then remembered the smut and now i’m scared
but it’s fine bc now i’m gonna pull someone else into the marauders fandom and i cannot wait
#sweater weather#lumosinlove#coast to coast#sirius black#remus lupin#wolfstar#marauders era#james potter#lily evans#logan tremblay#finn o'hara#leo knut#fanfiction#fanfic
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can you write something with this quote I found? It’s so fitting for coops !
“I hope the most beautiful thing you ever see if another human”
In honor of final exams, here's some Harvard FinnLo fluff to share in the suffering--or, you're in a library with a beautiful boy...
Character credit goes to @lumosinlove , who shattered me into a thousand pieces with the new art and will be receiving a UPS box containing my entire heart soon. It's just easier that way.
(and to my friends, who do not know this blog exists but have spent their night/ early morning sitting across from me while we work, I love you v much)
“I’m gonna die.”
“Non.”
“I’m going to fail out of Harvard.”
“Non.”
“Yon.”
Logan’s eyes flicked up over the edge of the wooden table divider and narrowed, the green made bright by the black band of his chunky headphones. “You’re not failing out.”
“Might.” Finn slumped further into the palm of his hand. Another half-inch of Logan disappeared on the opposite side of their table. They had been here for hours. His body ached. His mind fizzled softly, like bacon fried so long it crumbled at the first touch.
Huh. Maybe he could use that in his paper. Reformation-era literary techniques had to fit somewhere in there.
A sigh gusted out of Logan; Finn straightened just enough to peek over the mahogany separating them. Blunt fingertips pressed against the inner corners of his eyes and turned the skin white, then dragged along the first hints of exhausted shadows before pulling down until Logan had to blink. He caught Finn watching and the almost of a smile shimmered across his face before he pointedly pulled his headphones back over his ears and bent his head to his notebook.
They had learned their lesson from midterms season—any tables where they could see each other only led to hours upon hours of talking instead of studying. But working alone was not an option (not that Finn had ever suggested it), so. Dividers. They had blinders on the sides, too. Finn sort of felt like he had been put in a filing box when they worked here.
“Lo,” he hissed. The scratch of a mechanical pencil answered. “Logan.”
A girl at the table next to them shot him an unamused look. Finn hoped his smile seemed apologetic, or at least sincere.
“Tremzy.”
The toe of a worn-out sneaker found his ankle. Solid, but gentle.
“Fucker,” Finn whispered, hiding his grin behind their divider.
A puff of air would have rustled his notes if they had been studying at their usual place at the dining room table. He listened to Logan scribble; always stilted when his hands got tired. Their room would smell like Tiger Balm tonight. He’d get to see the funny little wrinkle of Logan’s nose, too. Warm light from the swirling green lamps beside them made his hair glow chestnut and maple. It curled at the ends from his shower after practice, now far enough gone that each thick lock was mostly dry. He hated going to bed damp.
A faint ripping noise made the girl next to them glance over. Something gave a faint plastic rattle. Finn had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep his laugh back when Logan’s hand appeared over the divider and haphazardly taped a torn corner of notebook paper to Finn’s side.
SHUT. WORKING.
Reformation literature could wait.
Finn’s pen smudged blue streaks across the side of his palm. He took Logan’s note and carefully peeled the tape off, then smoothed the curling edge over the section he had torn from his own notes.
On what?????
The sliver of Logan’s back he could see heaved.
Finn waited for a long moment.
The tape came free with a nigh-imperceptible snick.
Econ. Logan’s fingernails were ragged at the edges from biting.
Econ-your-mom-ics.
The crumpled-up note came sailing back over without a response—he caught it half an inch from his forehead and tucked it into the waterbottle pouch of his backpack before carefully sliding his chair back and leaning forward, far enough to rest his chin on top of the divider.
Logan’s work station was a disaster. Hurricane Tremblay has entered the building, he thought as Logan’s marking of a demand curve slowed to a stop. Highlighters of three different sizes were scattered among half a dozen pens and dull pencils. A thin layer of used-eraser confetti littered every page and worksheet.
Logan had switched to a blue pen—one of Finn’s, he realized. Likely borrowed during their last study session. Finn pressed his chin harder to the wooden edge and waited. Always patient. Logan would crack soon.
Ever so slowly, Logan looked up at him from under his lashes. His hands flattened over his notes. He would have looked immensely unimpressed if Finn didn’t know better.
The cold press of a ballpoint to the tip of his nose was…not unwelcome, but not unexpected. Finn scrunched his face up and heard a short, amused exhale. The pen retreated. Logan was really smiling now, tiny and mischievous. “There.” He was always better at whispering than Finn. “Rudolph’s fucked-up cousin.”
Finn had to duck into his sweater at that, shoulders shaking with the force of a contained bark of laughter. The girl next to them made a show of turning up her music in her earbuds. God, he should feel bad, shouldn’t he? They should go home—go to their room and try one more time to be productive without the laws of Harvard’s libraries looming over them. Percy had been trying to convince him to bring one of the library lamps home for ages.
Logan finally looked away from his notebook, grinning wildly as he shook his head and gave Finn’s forehead a light push. The chair creaked when Finn sat again and scooted forward. He didn’t even want to think about how old these things were, or he’d start getting philosophical. It was much more fun to wax poetic about the importance of Harvard history regarding antique chairs when he was drunk and in Will’s care for the evening.
Logan would listen, Finn thought as he woke his computer up and flexed his hands over the keyboard. Some of the letters were worn nearly bare from his fingers. Logan would laugh at him, but he would listen. He could hear it now. Okay, Harz. Uh-huh. Oh, really? Should I leave you and the chairs alone for a while?
No, no, he would say. I gotta show you. You gotta know.
Logan would shake his head again. Finn figured he’d have a fifty-fifty chance of getting Logan to come with him on a late-night library run versus letting him wrangle him back to bed. He’d be happy either way.
For now, Microsoft Word was waiting with a heading, six sources, and an impatient cursor tapping its foot over his bolded [TITLE!!!!] notation.
--
Midnight came and went between paragraphs four and five. The girl next to them packed her things five minutes later, slinging her satchel over her shoulder as if it weighed eight hundred pounds.
Logan dropped a pen—black, this time—just after one o’clock.
The library lights flickered when the clock hit 1:30. They gathered their things, not bothering to pack their bags, and relocated to the first floor’s 24-hour room with the rest of the pitiful souls relinquishing their night to the altar of academia.
Finn’s eyes began to burn at 2:37.
The first soft snore sounded at 2:51.
He had been so good. So good. He hadn’t bothered Logan at all, not counting the friendly slap to the back of his head when he came back from the bathroom. Nine glorious pages of semi-decent analysis were finally in existence.
The next snore was a touch louder, like Logan had breathed away whatever muffled it before. Finn leaned up on his elbows to see over the edge and smiled to himself at the curls pressed flat to spiraled aluminum. Logan’s lips were parted on the paper. His pencil—back to the pencil? Finn would never understand him—hung limp in the valley of his thumb. His other hand rested on the back of his neck, like he had been supporting himself on it before sleep made him slump right over.
“Tremz. Logan. Hey, number ten.”
Logan’s finger twitched.
Finn sat back, stretched his leg out, and landed a light kick on Logan’s shin. He heard a snort before Logan’s jolt reached his foot. “Calice de crisse—”
“Good morning.”
Logan was blinking hard and slow when Finn leaned up again, both hands wrapped around the table edge and maybe, maybe, one foot on earth. “When time?”
“It’s three o’clock.”
“…practice?”
“In the morning.”
Logan nodded, slothlike, eyelids drooping. Graphite stamped the round part of his cheek; he scratched at it, yawned, and stretched both arms out in front of himself in an Oscar-worthy performance of someone who was any kind of awake.
“We should go back,” Finn suggested.
“Non. All-nighter.”
“It’s officially morning.”
Logan exhaled through his nose for several seconds. He was staring into the middle distance again, right along the seam of their barrier. “I have another chapter.”
I ‘ave anuzzer shapter. Soft, and low, and raspy. So close to his morning voice, but not quite. Finn nudged him with his toe. His heart gave a flip at Logan’s light frown. “I’m going to run through my paper one more time,” he offered. “We can head out after that.”
Logan looked up at him, the picture of confusion. “You’re going running?”
“Editing.”
“Oh.” He nodded. “Okay.”
“Finish your chapter.”
“Okay.”
He cracked his knuckles twice before bending over his notes. One hand rubbed through the back of his hair, left long for the end of the season. He’d probably get it cut over winter break. Finn sort of didn’t want him to.
There was a throbbing behind Finn’s eye that had started somewhere around his first attempt at a concluding paragraph. His fingertips were numb and his wrists were sure to hurt as soon as he stopped writing. He wasn’t sure when exactly his mouth had gone so dry, but it had, and he spared a moment’s thought toward the drink station in the lobby. They always had coffee around finals—it was decent, if a little burnt. He wondered if they’d have mint tea.
Logan’s pencil moved audibly slower than before. Loops and swirls and scratches, a language Finn would never understand. Words were his place: endless white pages and safe letters to curl up in. But numbers and statistics, the things with straight answers, were all for Logan’s clever mind.
Those same words echoed in his head and blurred as he scrolled through a halfhearted read-through. It wasn’t long before he shut his dying laptop and finally let it rest, sagging low in his chair. He turned his face to the ceiling and closed his eyes. It would be easy to fall asleep here, with Logan’s foot against his and the gentle sounds of the library wrapping him up.
“Harzy.”
“ ‘m awake.”
“I’m not.” Something tapped the back of Finn’s hand. “Allez, or I’m leaving without you.”
As if. Finn took the proffered hand without opening his eyes and let Logan pull him up, groaning at the pinch in his legs. The crinkle of paper as he shoved it into his bag made him wince, but that was a problem for the morning. It looked like Logan hadn’t bothered to organize, either.
“Zipper,” Logan reminded him, not looking up from his phone. “I don’t want to hear you complain about more lost pens.”
“Thanks.”
“That’s why you have me.”
How Finn wished that was true.
“You know, I read something kind of neat earlier,” he said as they left the study room. At Logan’s hum of mild interest, he turned to walk backward for a few steps. “I hope the most beautiful thing you ever see is another human. Kinda nice to think about, huh?”
“Hmm.”
“I dunno.” Logan tapped them out of the library with his ID. Finn hadn’t bothered to reach for his own in a long time. He smiled to himself as December bit their cheeks, jostling Logan’s shoulder at the first scrape of brick below their feet. “I like it.”
“You would.”
“Shut up.”
“Non.”
“Yon.”
#finn ohara#logan tremblay#finnlo#harvard finnlo#coast to coast#lumosinlove#my fic#fanfic#fluff#studying#all-nighters
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Austin. Texas, 1963. From "Coast to Coast"
Photo: Thomas Hoepker
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Happy O’Knutzy Week 2023!
Thank you @oknutzyweek2023 for organizing this year and thank you @lumosinlove for your incredible characters and the beautiful story you’ve created for them.
Day one: Costumes! Here’s Leo, Lo and Finn doing grease inspired costumes for Cap’s halloween party this year.
#lumosinlove#coast to coast#sweater weather#finn o'hara#logan tremblay#leo knut#o’knutzy#o’knutzy week 2023
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Since Finn had his birthday... I say it's safe to start prepping for Halloween!
Behold: the 2023 Fic-O-Ween prompt list! (created this year by the lovely @arrowofcarnations!)
You have more than 2 months to write, draw, or otherwise create for the fest as we start posting and reblogging on October 19. There will be a 30 day reminder post on September 19 and a week before the start date, so fret not!
The daily prompt cards will be uploaded soon-- you're encouraged to use them as the "cover photo" at the top of each day's post.
More instructions to come!
Happy Spooky Season!!
#fic-o-ween#fic fest#coops#coast to coast#hazelnoots#lumosinlove#coast2coast#sweater weather#oknutzy
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Hearts and Homes
Pairing: O'Knutzy
Rating: General Audiences
Summary: Leo is home for Christmas with his boys and his mother has given them the very important job of helping her make Christmas cookies. Something feels different, though.
CW for holiday and food mentions
Thank you to the wonderful @lumosinlove for creating these characters!
Leo's childhood home was warm around this time of year. Warm in the way the incandescent bulbs threw a soft glow across rooms (The LEDS just aren't the same Le), warm from the coastal breeze fluttering through windows, but mostly warm because of preheating ovens.
His mother had gone all out again this year. Every year since Leo could hold a wooden spoon, Eloise Knut had him mixing cookie dough. The only difference this year was the amount of bakers.
Finn and Leo bobbed amongst a sea of cookie trays covering kitchen counters. Finn was in the ugliest Christmas sweater one could find, and Logan kept making little disgusted faces every time the blinking Santa Claus on said sweater broke into another verse of Jingle Bells. Though, Lohan did have flour on his face that Finn had yet to mention, so, payback.
His mother hummed along to the radio as she tossed even more ingredients into the Kitchen Aid. It all felt familiar to Leo; it was home after all, but he couldn't shake a small desire in the back of his mind for snowfall behind the New York City skyline and Canadian cabins up to their eaves in snow. It was an adjustment, to say the least, not a bad one, just one he hadn't been expecting.
"What's going on in that head of yours, Pumpkin?"
Leo snapped his head up from where he had been staring intently at a sheet of dough rolled out on the counter.
"It's warm."
"It is not! It's fifty degrees out; got out my thick socks for today."
Leo gave his mother a cheeky look.
"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear you say that," Finn said. He was on oven duty and strictly oven duty. Logan was allowed to touch the dough under supervision. He was currently attempting to cut little gingerbread men that looked like the three of them. It was cute. It made something settle right behind Leo's sternum.
"Oh, like you have anything to talk about." Logan poked Finn in the chest with a whisk.
"I'll have you know, NYC winters–!"
"So, it's warm." Leo turned back to Eloise as Finn and Logan devolved into increasingly nonsensical bickering.
"Yeah. It's warm."
Eloise gave him a look like she already had it all figured out. She probably did.
"Oh, he's gone all northern on me already. Wistfully dreaming of a white Christmas in the New Orleans sun. The best I have is confetti pumpkin; hope it's enough."
Leo laughed, and his mother smiled. He was seven years old again, stealing chocolate chips off the counter, laughing when he got caught, his mother laughing too.
They settled into a bout of comfortable silence after that. Something was still niggling at the back of Leo's mind, though.
"It's just…"
Eloise looked up, now rolling out her famous peppermint mocha cookie dough.
"Yes?"
"This is home."
"Yes."
"This has always been my home."
"...Yes."
"It's not like it doesn't feel like home this time. It's just that…"
Eloise looked at him and smiled that knowing smile.
"What?"
Eloise shrugged. "Didn't say anything."
"You're up to something."
"I am! I'm making cookies!"
"Mama."
Eloise chuckled. "You're in love, sweetheart."
"...Okay? But-"
"Oh, sugar, it's simple. Home isn't really a place. It's just love." She picked up a silver cookie cutter and started pressing out shapes. "So, in that way, New Orleans is home because it's where Dad and I's love for you lives."
The radio across the kitchen slowly faded to the next song.
I'll be home for Christmas…
"A home, by the way, that you will continue to visit periodically til the end of time. I'll create new holidays to celebrate if I have to-"
"Of course, I'll always come back, Mama."
Eloise patted his cheek with a floury hand. "Anyways, but New Orleans isn't the only place where love for you lives anymore, is it?" She tilted her head towards where Logan was taking pictures of Finn attempting to balance spoons on his nose.
"And the people that hold that love for you, bless their heart, love the cold and snow. And so, home now isn't just the New Orleans sun. It's a little colder."
Leo could almost feel things finally slot into place in his mind. They had always been there, the strings that tugged his heart North, South, and East. He had always thought one direction would win out, but he was wrong. They enabled his heart to stretch farther across state lines and biomes, rivers and lakes, cities and farms. Home had just gotten bigger, stretching out its limbs, settling into the comfort of having more room to breathe.
Leo held back a few wayward tears that threatened to well up.
"I miss thirty-degree weather," he said with shock and awe.
Eloise shook her head. "Lord, help us."
Leo laughed at the same time a telltale Ding! sounded from the oven.
"The cookies!" Finn yelped before putting on comically large oven mitts and racing towards the oven. He took out a tray of sugar cookies and started to place them on the wire racks. Logan wandered over to where Leo was working and rested his head on Leo's shoulder.
"What are we talking about?"
"The cold."
"Oh! We should absolutely ask Noelle if she'd be up to trade weeks for the family cabin next month. Maybe we could go ice fishing."
Leo looked at his mother.
"Don't look at me, you picked him."
Leo trembled with barely contained laughter.
"Quoi? It will be fun, Soleil, I promise."
Finn walked over, making little Ah! Ooh! noises as he gently tossed a cookie back and forth between both hands.
"Here, Le, taste. We need to know if it's Knapproved."
Leo leaned forward and took a bite out of the same sugar cookie his mother had been baking since he could talk, but it tasted a little different this time.
It still tasted like boat rides and summer heat, but it also tasted like peppermint tea and long drives. It tasted like sleepy mornings and playoff wins and bookshops. It tasted like something impossible. It tasted like the simplest thing on Earth.
Even though Leo's love stretched across country borders, it somehow managed to all fit in that small kitchen then, tucked into the corners and squeaky cabinets.
"It's good."
#lumosinlove#fanfic#fluff#boys in love#o'knutzy#coast to coast fanfic#coast to coast#sweater weather fanfic#sweater weather#vaincre fanfic#vaincre#leo knut#logan tremblay#finn o'hara#eloise knut#christmas#christmas cookies#baking#domestic fluff#slice of life#fanfiction#original fanfiction
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