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fruitcoops · 10 months

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Belong to You

O'Knutzy Week Day 4: Summer Vacation + Phone. Thanks to @oknutzyweek2023 for organizing and @lumosinlove for creating these characters! One more day...

“Spin, spin, spin, there it is!”

Logan stretched until his toes brushed the baseboards; the scent of lemon still clung to the floor beneath his nose.

“And turn, and turn—follow me, hon, you’re going backwards.”

Laughter echoed off the gentle slopes of the ceiling, dappled with sun and splotches of paint. Someone’s bare foot squeaked on the hardwood and they stumbled. Logan smiled into his forearms.

“One-two, three-four, you-step, step-left—left, honey, rem—ow. Do you know your right from your left?”

“…oops.”

Finn grinned into Leo’s sheepish kiss. His skin glimmered pearl in the afternoon heat, but Leo’s furrowed brow showed no sign of breaking a sweat. Logan lazily tracked a droplet as it slipped down Finn’s back before vanishing into the band of his loose shorts, then stretched again, just to feel the tense and release of his muscles. Moving always wreaked havoc on his joints.

Those with an ounce of energy in the heat had gone back to the basics, it seemed. Finn’s hand hovered above Leo’s hip, close enough that he could guide him forward with little tugs on (frequent) occasion. Leo’s head was bent—he was frowning just slightly and bobbing his head to the music in adorable concentration.

Christ, Logan couldn’t recall the last time he had been so relaxed on summer vacation. He was about ready to melt into the floor.

“You can bend your knees,” Finn teased, giving the back of Leo’s thigh a playful squeeze. “C’mere, I won’t bite unless you ask me to.”

“Ha ha.” Leo glanced up just long enough to scrunch his nose at Finn. His next step was tentative, narrowly missing Finn’s toes for the fourth time in as many minutes. “Is that—was that right?”

“No, that’s your left.” Finn’s smile turned wicked at Leo’s groan. “But yes, that’s correct. Fill my space, yeah?”

“Fill the space,” Leo muttered to himself.

“When I step here—” Finn’s foot slid back, winter-pale up to the ankle, where thick summer freckles began to pepper him. “—you come forward where I used to be. My hand is on your waist and we’re close. You can feel my leg move, right?”

“Mhmm.”

Finn leaned in and nudged at Leo’s nose until he looked up, blinking. “So keep your head up. Let me see that pretty face.”

A smile bloomed over Leo’s cheeks with a blush on its heels. The teal swatch behind him made it look even warmer; Logan made a note of that in the back of his mind. “But I need to watch.”

“You can feel me,” Finn reminded him. “You just have to follow. Bend your knees. I got you, sunshine.”

Leo looked back when Finn leaned away to fuss with his phone—the new system was persnickety, prone to irritating Logan’s ancient speakers and skipping songs with wild abandon. They’d have to replace it soon. Logan didn’t care. There were much more important things to worry about.

Leo, for instance. Because Leo was the fucking sun, and he was standing in the squeaky-clean living room they got to share forever and ever and ever until Logan really did melt into the floorboards.

There was that smile, just for him.

“Having fun?” Logan asked, propping his chin on his arms.

“Oh, you know it,” Leo laughed. “Almost amputated our boyfriend’s toes, but whatever.”

Finn shrugged and straightened. The universe was so cruel, giving him those biceps and placing Logan out of biting range. “I have ten of them. ‘Kay, you ready?”

“I think a demonstration would be helpful.”

Logan’s eyes snapped up to Leo’s smug little face in half a second. “That’s a great idea!” Finn exclaimed, before Logan could get a breath in edgewise.

“Oh, non—”

“Oh, yon.”

He didn’t even have time to attempt an escape. Perhaps he had grown too comfortable on the floor.

But Finn’s hands were cool on his overwarm skin when he pulled Logan to his feet. He was a bit sweaty and entirely perfect where their bare chests pressed together. Slender fingers slipped against his palm and splayed over his lower back. Narrow hips stayed close enough to Logan’s own that he could feel every sway and step while Finn led him around like the lost puppy he absolutely was.

He found Leo’s gaze over Finn’s shoulder. A quirk of the brow, a cheeky wink. No sign of apology whatsoever.

Logan pressed his smile into Finn’s collarbone and threaded his hand in the loose waves at the base of his neck, where he was everything Logan could want.

“Thanks for your help,” Finn murmured just below his ear.

“Thanks for the house,” Logan laughed.

“Our house, with our money.”

“Hmm.” He nosed at Finn’s jaw until he found the special secret freckle beneath the hinge, and kissed it softly. “Thanks for carrying boxes in boiling weather, then.”

Finn spun him in place; the moment he was in range again, Logan took him by the chin and kissed his smiling lips. “My pleasure.”

“Non, it wasn’t.”

“No, it wasn’t,” Finn snorted, dipping him back. “You’re welcome.”

“Think Knutty’s learned enough yet?”

“No,” Leo answered for him. His phone case glinted in the sunlight streaming through their front window.

Finn’s laugh ghosted over Logan’s neck. A squeeze of his hip made his stomach swoop. “Finish the song with me, baby.”

“D’accord.” Logan stretched up, ankles popping, hips aching, shoulders releasing as he dropped his arms around Finn’s neck and brought him close just to be close. Finn’s forehead rested so well in the slope of Logan’s nose.

A press and pull of Finn’s hip—he felt a space open up and, eyes closed, moved right into it.

#logan tremblay #leo knut #finn ohara #cubs #oknutzy #coast to coast #sweater weather #vaincre #lumosinlove #my fic #fanfic #oknutzy week 2023 #fluff #dancing

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splendidlyinlove · 10 months

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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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itsaash · 10 months

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O'Knutzy Week! Prompt: gardening, smile

I'll be posting parts of the same 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. Established LeLo. Characters by @lumosinlove, for @oknutzyweek2023

Part 1

Part 2

and now, Part 3

Finn looked up from his laptop, he had been sitting under the big umbrella at the side of the yard going over his latest edits. He noticed the sun had well crested through the sky since he last looked up. But it felt good to finish up those edits and send them back to the author. He took a breath and leaned back in his chair, stretching his back and arms overhead, looking around at the house in the distance and the green of the property all around him.

His eye caught movement straight across the lawn from him, a sunshine yellow hat at the raised garden beds. The soft yellow, wide brimmed hat sat on top Leo’s head, giving him the illusion of even more inches of height. He was wearing overalls, it looked like cotton ones. And thank god for that, a person was liable to melt in denim today. He had a big basket beside him, filling up with produce from the garden. But also a spade? Was he digging something? Finn watched as Leo stood up and used the spade to turn the earth in the garden bed, his arms flexing strongly even from this distance. He bent over to reach for something and Finn jumped up. He couldn’t admire Leo from over here like some sort of creep. Just go talk to him. And get out of the line of sight that makes staring far too easy.

He had found himself doing that, staring. Just gazing at Leo as he moved around the kitchen with such a graceful confidence that it could almost be a dance. Across the dinner table, Leo’s hand around a cup, damp with condensation, how he closed his eyes to fully enjoy the perfect bite of food. And, okaaay, that was enough of that train of thought, he reprimanded himself. He crossed the lawn in easy strides, hands in his pockets.

“Hey, Leo. Whatcha doin?”

Leo looked up from patting down the dirt with his gloved hands. He ran the back of one of his wrists over his cheek, smudging a bit of dirt there. Why did Finn want to reach out and brush it away? He clenched his hands tighter in his pockets.

“Oh hey, Finn. Just getting some stuff for dinner, doing some planting. How’s your work going?”

“Oh, great! Thanks! Ya, I've done what I need to for today.”

“That’s good to hear. You were sitting out here a long time.”

Finn laughed self consciously. He knew he tended to lose track of time.

“Yeah, it was an interesting project and I wanted to get the edits to them for Monday, you know? So I just kept going.”

“Well I’m sure glad you’re done. I was going to bring you a drink, but now you can come in and get one.”

Finn stared as Leo turned back to the garden, seemingly digging shallow rows in nice straight lines. Leo had noticed him? Was thinking about if he was drinking enough? How could he be so sweet? He coughed slightly.

“Whatcha planting there? Isn’t it kind of late in the season for planting?”

Leo kept working as he answered, shaking tiny seeds from a packet and placing them carefully. “For a lot of things it is, but there’s some things that you want to have consecutive crops of, every few weeks. So I’m doing a few more rows of beets and other greens, like arugula, spinach. This is probably the last row of carrots for the season too.”

Finn had never thought about gardening for two minutes straight in his life before, but there was a first time for everything.

“Beets and other greens?” Finn questioned, “how are beets green?”

Leo laughed, covering up the latest tiny seeds with a layer of dirt and patting them lovingly.

“You’re right, I said that in a confusing way. I just meant how you can eat beet greens - the leaves of beets - just like they’re lettuce. There were some in the mixed salad last night.”

“Those were beet greens in the salad last night? Who knew!” Finn reached out a hand to pluck a long, leafy stem from the neat row of beets in front of him. He could see the round curve of the beet starting to appear up through the dirt. Leo looked up from his planting, almost in time, “No! Not that –”

But, Finn had already brushed the leaf off and popped it in his mouth, chewing slowly. His relaxed face rapidly morphed into horror.

“–one,” Leo finished lamely. A smile quirked at the corner of his mouth and he scrunched his eyes shut, whether in laughter or distress … Finn couldn’t tell, given the rather large distraction of one of the worst tasting things he had ever put in his mouth and that was saying something ohmygod.

Finn coughed, spluttered, and looked around frantically, searching for salvation. He dashed to the tree line and spat out the bite as fully as he could.

“Leo, what in the fuck…” Finn said as he walked back, wiping his mouth, eyes wide.

Leo couldn’t help the burst of laughter that escaped his chest at the horrified look on Finn’s face. “It’s only the little ones we eat, Finn. Oh my God, your face.”

“That was so gross!”

“Yes, I imagine it was,” Leo chuckled, reaching for a plant at least a quarter of the size of the one Finn had chosen. “Try this one, maybe it will get rid of the taste.”

Finn reached out his hand, taking the small leaf. He paused, “Promise?”

Leo’s blue eyes locked onto Finn’s soft brown ones and the moment stretched.

“Promise.”

Finn popped the leaf into his mouth, a little relief softening his features.

“How the fuck can the same plant have two so different tastes?”

“Well I don’t know the chemistry of it, but yes, you only eat very new beet greens. Like I said, that’s why I’m planting more. The big ones are left to grow to eat the actual beet, but it’s nice to have another crop of fresh greens too.”

Finn nodded sagely, he wouldn’t forget that lesson any time soon. Rather effective learning technique.

“Do I even like beets?” Finn asked, and cringed, as if Leo would know.

“Well I know a lot of folks don’t, but I’ll try to make something good for you. I like them roasted and served cold with balsamic vinegar and feta cheese. Maybe we’ll do that as a side dish tomorrow. They make such a goddamn mess though, you won’t believe it.”

Finn laughed, “You must hate that.”

Leo looked up at him, and rose from his planting, clapping his hands together to brush off the dirt. “Yeah, I do. You caught onto that, did you? I’ll peel them outside with about a roll of paper towel handy.”

Finn shrugged, “I’ll help you. I don’t mind a mess.”

Leo paused in his gathering of gardening tools and looked at Finn, saw him full to the brim of sincerity.

“You don’t have to, Finn. You’re so sweet to offer, but it is my job. You’re supposed to be able to work, and relax … and not worry about cooking on the weekend.”

Finn cocked his head to the side, not loving the reminder of their power imbalance. He needed to fix that. Somehow. “I appreciate the amazing food you make so much, Leo. It’s more than a job, or like … a service. It’s been a gift. I’ll help you. If you want.”

Leo smiled his sunshine smile and the bitter taste still coating his mouth was worth that smile, that laugh. Being in Leo’s orbit only brought him joy. Finn helped gather up the last of the gardening tools and they walked back to the house across the soft grass.

Leo turned to FInn, “You need a good glass of water to get rid of that taste, and then a strong tasting drink. Maybe sweet tea to cut the bitter? Or maybe cover it up with a strong taste, like a mojito?”

“Afternoon mojitos?!” Finn practically bounced when he was excited, and was even bouncier to see that it made Leo smile.

“Mojitos it is.”

Finn tried to tamp down the silly grin he knew was all over his face, but he couldn’t stop the feeling of bubbles in his chest at the idea of spending the rest of the late afternoon with Leo. And, honestly, he was also quite looking forwards to getting this goddamn horrible taste out of his mouth. Beet greens, indeed. The things he’s do to see that sunshine smile.

#characters by lumosinlove #o’knutzy #oknutzy week 2023 #LionFish bonding #prompt:gardening #prompt: smile #cw food #cw drink #definitely not based off personal experience nope couldn’t be me

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givemetherapyimawritingtravesty · 10 months

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@oknutzyweek2023 Wednesday, Row 3 – Summertime Blues

(and I used a random word generator for the free space and got houseplant, how fitting for me lol)

Logan groaned from his place between his loves on the bed. It was a warm afternoon in Gryffindor and the were all taking a break to lay in bed for a quick recharge after their trip to the store. His head was pounding and he wasn’t sure what had set it off, but he had a suspicion it had to do with the bring florescent light and the annoying radio music there that was just this side of too loud to be normal for a grocery store.

But maybe that was the migraine talking. It was making him rather grumpy and he tried not to let it show, not wanting to ruin the nice day. It was the middle of their summer vacation, and it was sunny and gorgeous outside, but even the light cast from Finn’s phone next to him and the music coming from Leo’s was grating away at him in the worse way.

“What are you two even doing on your phones?” Logan grumbled, trying not to let his tone sound irritated. He wasn’t upset with them and he didn’t want them thinking he was taking it out on them either because he wasn’t feeling well.

“I am looking at costumes and getting ideas,” Finn said. “We are officially closer to next Halloween than last Halloween, meaning it is time for spooky season thoughts.”

Leo paused his music and tossed his phone on the bed before rolling onto his side. “And I was listening to some songs Talker sent me, but I can listen later. I thought I’d be more into them, but I’m just not in the mood for new music right now, you know? It’s a tried and true or nothing kind of day.” Leo wrapped his arm around Logan before pressing a soft kiss to his temple, noticing his eyes were closed. “Something up, Lo?”

“Not feeling the best at the moment,” He murmured quietly.

Finn clicked his phone off and turned to Logan too, “What’s wrong, baby? Do you need some water? Fresh air? Sunlight or no light?”

“What is he, a grumpy houseplant?” Leo chuckled softly, but he reached back with a long arm and tugged the edge of the curtain to cover the side of the window by the bed. “Better?”

Logan hummed in appreciation at the new darkness in the room, a streak of light no longer being casted over the bed. “Water might be good, actually.”

“On it,” Finn said, placing a quick kiss to his temple before getting up and making his way to the door of their bedroom. “Cold or room temperature?”

“Um. Cold, I think. Thank you.” Logan said as Leo threaded a hand through his hair. He winced slightly and Leo switched to tracing shapes across his chest.

“Is it your head? Do you want something? Meds?” Leo spoke softly, trying not to be too loud.

Logan nodded as Finn came back, glass of water and a rattling bottle of pills in hand. “Brought these too. Another bad headache?”

“You read my mind,” Leo said, taking the bottle to grab the dose for logan and pressing it into his hand.

Logan sat up as he accepted the water, taking a sip before taking the pills handed to him. He drank a good half the glass before passing it back to Finn to set on the bedside table and curling up with a boyfriend on either side. He couldn’t be more thankful for their understanding and their much needed cuddles, and he couldn’t be more in love.

#oknutzy week 2023 #sweater weather lumosinlove #o'knutzy #finn o'hara #leo knut #logan tremblay #if you think this one is a couple house late no its not it isn't tomorrow until i use the sleep so it still counts as on time right? right?

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awanderingdeal · 10 months

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OK so I'm going to post my plans for what I was going to write for O'Knutzy Week 2023. Maybe one day they will be fleshed out into full stories, but for now this what you get. Honestly, at this point in my life I get the most enjoyment out of coming up with ideas and playing those out in my head. Sometimes there's specific moments that I have very vivid ideas for, but I'm find the writing up of and linking those pieces together a bit drudgery. Hopefully, you enjoy the ideas and can have fun thinking about them too.

#oknutzy week 2023

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fruitcoops · 9 months

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Kindling & Embers

O'Knutzy Week Day 5 (HA!!): Camping (B4) and Borrowed (D4)! Characters belong to @lumosinlove, and one last massive thank-you to @oknutzyweek2023 for the most fabulous of fests <3

For more of this AU, check out First Burn and Spark ;)

TW for mentioned alcohol

Deft hands plucked two bottles from the picnic table; they hung loose for a moment’s hesitation, then vanished in the shadows as a figure turned away from the bonfire and began heading Leo’s way with startling purpose.

Sweet mother of fuck, Leo thought, dragging his eyes along lambswool lapels and porcelain wrists. He even looks delicious in denim.

Footsteps came to a soft halt in the blanket of pine needles. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Leo winced at his own breathlessness. His small t-shirt—perhaps too small, but he could take a bit of ribbing from Remus if it meant he got to pick up tonight—suddenly felt too warm. “Uh, hi.”

“Leo, right?”

“Knut.” He caught himself, and shook his head. “I mean—yes, I’m Leo. Leo Knut. Station Twelve.”

“Right.” A smile cracked over rose-petal lips like a firework. The bottles clinked lightly as they were transferred to one hand, the other held out in offer. “Finn O’Hara. Seventeen.”

“I know who you are,” Leo said through a smile, though he shook Finn’s hand. It was cool and long-fingered; the touch lingered at his wrist for a split second. His stomach plummeted. His heart soared.

Finn’s eyebrow arched in curious mischief. “Oh, do you?”

“We’ve met.”

Finn’s smile dropped. “Fuck, have we?”

“Yeah,” Leo laughed. Christ, who was he, a middle schooler with a crush? “The Christmas party?”

He was gifted reprieve from earnest, sparkling eyes when Finn glanced to the side, one canine tooth poking out as he bit his lip. His thumbpad traced a dewy bottlecap. Leo kind of wanted to stick it in his mouth. “The Christmas—” Finn’s gaze snapped to him. “Oh my god.”

“It’s fine—”

“Oh my god,” Finn repeated, raking a hand through his hair. “Yes, no, I remember you. God. Fuck. Sorry. About this and—yeah. Christmas.”

“I told you, it’s fine!”

Merry Christmas!

…hi?

Hi! Can I sit on your lap?

Leo had been so distracted by the teasing press of tongue to a pointy tooth that he had utterly forgotten about his dumb, ‘I-lost-a-bet’ costume.

Huh?

Santa, right? I’m Finn. Can I sit on your lap?

Finn’s blush looked just as magical in firelight as it had under twinkling false snowflakes. This time, though, it was more mortified than bold. “I…am so sorry,” he said with a shake of his head.

“Hey, no apologies.” Leo pushed him gently on the shoulder and immediately regretted it. Under the soft denim, Finn was fucking firm. Sneaky little firefighter. He half-wondered what else was hidden under adorable layers. “You were not the only person to ask me that.”

“That, I can believe,” Finn huffed. The tips of his ears went red. “Oh—sorry, that was out loud.”

Another laugh bubbled out of Leo. He should just start kicking his feet and twirling his hair at this rate. He took a shaky breath and nodded to the beers. “Got something for me?”

“What?” Finn glanced down, then gave a bit of a start. “Yeah, I—yeah. You didn’t have anything, so I figured you might…you know. Want something.”

A door, opening just a crack. Leo dove for it. “I do,” he said carefully, ducking his head with a small smile. Finn’s pretty eyes flickered over his face. He cracked the caps off the bottles in two quick motions and held one out—Leo let his pinky brush the curve of Finn’s fingers when he took it. “Thanks, Finn.”

Finn’s throat bobbed. “You can call me Harzy, if you want to.”

“That what your friends call you?”

“Mhmm.”

Leo hummed. Condensation cooled his burning palms. His pulse hammered with concerning speed. “I like your jacket. Very REI-chic. Ready to go camping in the Adirondacks.”

“My brother gave it to me.” Finn held his arm out. “I used to borrow it, like, every day in high school. The elbows and the cuffs are kind of fucked, see?”

Leo reached out—past the threadbare cuffs, past the patched sleeves, until he could take the woolly lapel in his hand. It was unbearably soft under his thumb, creamier than Finn’s freckled skin. He was close enough to risk a touch like this. An inch up and he’d know what that razor-sharp collarbone felt like. “Nah,” he said instead, forcing back the tremor in his voice. “Suits you.”

Maybe it was his imagination, but he thought he felt Finn sway toward him. “Hey,” Finn began. “Do you wanna take a walk?”

A smile fought its way onto Leo’s face. “Sure.”

“Sick.” Finn stuffed his hand in his pocket, grinning into the rim of his beer. “I really love these get-togethers, but the smoke gets to be a little much, y’know?”

“It is kind of ironic. Guess that’s the point.” Something clicked in Leo’s memory as they headed for the perimeter. “Y’all do wildfires, right?”

Finn, halfway through a swig, shook his head and swallowed. “Yeah, but just the regular for me. Seventeen’s a combo unit, since we’re way the fuck out there.”

“I was chatting with one of your guys at New Year’s.” Among other things. That night had been interesting, and Logan, even moreso. His glossy lashes still haunted Leo’s best dreams. “Guess there aren’t a lot of houses to burn in the yeehaw sector.”

“Right,” Finn snorted. “We’ve got a tight squad, though. You should visit sometime. We could use another set of hands.”

“I don’t pull people out of buildings, Harzy. I just stick ‘em back together.”

“And I bet you do a mighty fine job of it.”

“Are you making fun of me?”

“Maybe.” Finn’s face seemed to dance in the distant light of the fire. Sir, please put your freckles away.

Leo brought his beer to his lips to cover his smile. His trachea and esophagus were wound around each other, screaming without end. “Hm.”

“Come on,” Finn teased, nudging their shoulders together. “I gotta get a couple in to make up for Christmas.”

“I told you, I’m really not bothered, or offended, or anything.”

“Makes one of us.” Finn paused, then tilted his face toward the sky. It was dark enough to pick out a few stars if Leo squinted, but…he didn’t really want to look away from Finn. “Seriously, that was dumb and rude of me.” Finn’s voice was quieter than before, more serious. “I shouldn’t have flirted with you, and especially not like that.”

Leo’s trachea-esophagus pretzel constricted and sent words popping from his mouth like a bottle rocket. “You can flirt with me if you want.”

…fuck.

Finn’s brows had disappeared under his thick, floppy hair. Leo could see his wide eyes even in the near-total darkness of the woods. “Do you want me to?”

Jesus, please strike me with a convenient case of lockjaw.

Leo tested his jaw. No such luck.

“I—” He wondered if Finn knew Logan. A tight squad, and all that. He wondered if Logan had told anyone about New Year’s. About rough red brick leaving stains on the back of Leo’s coat for days. About so many almosts and panting pleases and hands desperate for something before the clock ran out. About pressing hot and close in the frigid bite of December-January until they heard the party start up again inside. Logan had fit against Leo’s body like a puzzle piece finding home, and took something with him when he left.

The wildfires were bad this year, burning out of control. Finn was here, under the silent stars. Finn was here, and Logan was not. Flushed pink against his borrowed jean jacket and watching Leo with concern and—and a little bit of hope.

“Yes, please,” Leo said quietly.

This smile was newer. Softer. Finn’s chin dipped; his blush was strawberry-pink and warm when Leo reached out to run his knuckles over it. He felt and heard Finn’s breath stutter.

“Finn…”

Finn was nodding before he could even ask, sliding an electric hand along Leo’s hip.

“Harzy,” Leo sighed into the first press of lips to his own. Finn made a questioning noise; Leo bit his smile into Finn’s lower lip. “Can I sit in your lap?”

#leo knut #finn ohara #logan tremblay #cubs #oknutzy #sweater weather #coast to coast #lumosinlove #my fic #fanfic #firefighter/ emt au #oknutzy week 2023

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fruitcoops · 10 months

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Chicken Strip(tease)

O'Knutzy Week Day 3: Cooking Mishap + Bondage! For @oknutzyweek2023 and many thanks to @lumosinlove <3

It was January in Gryffindor—in other words, fucking miserable. Leo gave himself a little extra grace for that when the screaming toddlers at the corner store started feeling a tad too relatable. The weather couldn’t decide between sleet, hail, and snow, so it vomited out some nightmare combination of the three with the magnificent addition of near-freezing temperatures from dawn (short) till dusk (even shorter). Any of Leo’s grumbling was sharply silenced by a blast of shearing wind to tell him to shove it up his ass.

The living room plants had a special light to mimic the sun during the months of garbage disposal weather.

Leo had the oven. And he was going to bloom and grow and photosynthesize, goddammit.

Simmer pots went from a monthly occurrence to a weekly staple—ostensibly, he needed to use up the extra oranges before they went bad. They had soup every night for a week, and as the sky grew darker, he transitioned to frequent roasts. The three of them could demolish a hunk of pork in one sitting without any trouble at all; Leo was sure anemia spooked and ran the second it glanced their way.

“What’s—”

“Veggies.” The first two rows of tiles by the oven were warmer than the rest of the floor. He had discovered that just after Cap’s birthday. “Carrots, celery, beets. The works. How’s your mom’n’em?”

“My—they’re good.” Finn’s socks muffled his footsteps. Leo stared into the tiny oven window, entranced by golden light. “Yeah, no, everyone’s fine. Excited to see us for the holidays. Mom sends kisses.”

Leo hummed. That would be nice. He wasn’t keen on winter any further north than Kentucky, but the O’Hara house was always warm. Warmer than Rimouski, at least. It was a testament to Logan’s love that he didn’t ask Leo to bury himself in snow that could be measured in meters.

“…you okay, baby?”

“Hmm?” He scooted an inch closer to the oven and gleefully wiggled his toes on the nearly-too-hot tile. “Mhmm.”

“You’re sitting, like, really close to the oven.”

“Warm,” Leo supplied. Wind shrieked down the brick siding of their building and he closed his eyes, leaning in. The oil was starting to sizzle.

“Please don’t bake yourself.”

The concern in Finn’s voice made him pause. He blinked. His face was beginning to prickle.

In the glass reflection, Finn squatted with a soft groan. His fingertips brushed Leo’s spine. “Le? You listening?”

“Mhmm.” The carrots would be ready to caramelize soon. Maybe he could do another soup as a side course.

“You gotta sit back, Butter.”

“ ‘S warm here.”

Finn sighed. “C’mon. Let’s get you a blanket.”

Arms came around his chest to haul him off the ground like a ragdoll. “No,” Leo protested weakly, reaching for his little square of salvation.

“Yes,” Finn mimicked. His sweater sleeves gave gentle cushion to Leo’s underarms as he was (dragged) hustled to the other side of the kitchen; Finn paused, moved to his front, and boosted him onto the countertop with only a quiet grunt of effort.

Leo couldn’t help the slide of his lower lip. “But…”

“Uh-uh. No baked boyfriends, please.” Finn leaned up to kiss his cheek, but swerved an inch before he made contact. “Oh, that looks tasty.”

Leo exhaled miserably and plopped his forehead onto Finn’s shoulder. A hand found his nape within seconds. “Chicken.”

“I see that,” Finn laughed. “Looks great, honey.”

“Might have soup, too.”

“You’re really feeling the soup, huh?”

“Tasty. Easy.”

“It’s amazing,” Finn agreed. He toyed with a few overgrown curls, then leaned toward the doorway. “Lo! Le made a chicken!”

An instant ruckus followed—Leo buried his smile in Finn’s neck. For someone so small, Logan couldn’t do anything quietly. “A chick—oh, coucou, you look cozy.”

“I hate January, and I hate the weather, and…” Leo groaned and pushed his face into the warm, spicy hollow of Finn’s neck and shoulder. “And I really like soup.”

“Okay,” Logan laughed. “Is that what we’re having?”

There was a nudge to his arm; Leo lifted it to make room and shuffled Logan against himself, resting his chin on the top of his head. Perfectly snuggle-able, that one. Warm, too. He knew he kept him around for a reason.

He had made a bit of a mess, when he really looked at it. The chicken was a work of art but he had been more concerned with lingering near the oven than cleaning as he cooked, which left a disaster of impressive proportions sprawling across the countertop. A small pool of olive oil oozed along the tiles. Pepper caught the edge and diverted it onto a spoon. He followed the lazy river past a bowl, a ramekin, and a spoon (half-burnt from one of Logan’s ill-fated baking attempts) before catching at the corner of the pan. A soft hiss followed, then cooled.

Before his very eyes, his Jacques-Pepin wet dream of a rotisserie chicken sat up and began to dance burlesque.

A startled laugh burst from him. One crispy leg lifted in arabesque—a wing shimmied at him, seductive and gorgeous and golden. Leo turned to muffle himself in Logan’s hair, unable to look away despite mild horror at Finn’s fingers all over his moment of divine inspiration. “Oh my god.”

The chicken paused, gave a sultry half-turn, and wiggled its voluptuous white meat at him.

The giggles flooded forth, and he simply couldn’t stop them. Logan’s chest shook under his hand.

“I can’t…” Finn’s tongue poked out of the corner of his mouth as he attempted to beckon with a wing. “God, you’ve got this thing all done up in—fucking bondage or something.”

“It’s trussed!” Leo propped his chin on Logan’s head. A warm hand folded over his own. He made eye contact with Finn and pressed a kiss to Logan’s ear. “And it’s perfect.”

“Course it is, it’s you.”

His grin made his cheeks hurt. “Stop playing with your food and come kiss me, Chicken Boy.”

#leo knut #logan tremblay #finn ohara #cubs #oknutzy #oknutzy week 2023 #lumosinlove #my fic #fanfic #coast to coast #sweater weather #fluff

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fruitcoops · 10 months

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Errand Boy

O’Knutzy Week Day1: Laundry (C2) + Mail (C5)! Thanks to @oknutzyweek2023 for the prompts/ fest and @lumosinlove for the lovely characters <3

Mundanity was a gift; a joy, a pleasure, a treasure of his heart. Kicking around town in anything but red and gold made them all but invisible and it was glorious, sweet on his tongue and warm in his belly. His lips still tasted like envelope. Dryer-static made the hair on his arms stand up under his sleeves. Cool fingers tucked the tag of his sweater back into the neckline and ghosted across the back of his neck with a lover’s care. Logan let his eyes close for a blissful moment at a quick, cheerful press of lips on his own.

“Ew. You taste like glue.”

And there went the bliss.

He fixed Leo with half a glare, shaking their twined hands. “I was having a moment.”

“You have lots of moments.” Leo’s mouth twitched as he guided them around the block. “Top secret thoughts rattling around up there, hmm?”

“And I’ll continue to keep them to myself if you’re going to be an asshole about it.”

Leo sent a kick toward his ankles; Logan dodged, a high noise of surprise in his throat, before sticking his foot into Leo’s path just to watch him fumble on the stilts he called ‘legs’. “Shit—”

“Fifteen envelopes,” Logan insisted, slipping his free hand up the side of Leo’s hoodie to tickle the base of his ribs. “I licked fifteen envelopes for you and your eight billion cousins.”

“Which I appreciate very much,” Leo laughed. Despite Logan’s best attempts, he managed to bat away the attack and bring their linked fingers to his lips—possibly more for Leo’s own protection than any real desire to hold hands. C’est la vie, he thought. There would be no complaints from his end. Leo’s emphatic mwah against his knuckles made him smile. “You still taste like glue.”

Logan tapped the thick stack of letters against his chest. “You’ll get over it.”

“Maybe.” Leo bent and kissed the peak of his upper lip. “Guess I’ll have to keep trying.”

“Guess you will.”

Logan slowed as teeth grazed his skin; Leo spared no attention for the passerby flowing around them like a river around mossy stone, the tip of his tongue teasing the seam of Logan’s mouth, only to pull back when he turned to deepen it. Logan let simmer-pot citrus fill his nose and lungs. The wool of Leo’s sweater scratched at his palms.

A quiet laugh broke the kiss, a pebble on their little river. “What?” Logan asked around a smile.

Leo jerked his chin toward the storefront behind them, then took Logan by the shoulders and turned him. A young man stood in the broadside window—lean, freckled, and mouthing ‘call me’ with increasingly obscene hand gestures and an apparent lack of care for the other people on the sidewalk.

Logan rolled his eyes hard enough to make his head hurt.

Leo was still laughing while he ushered them inside, one hand on Logan’s lower back as the bell above the door jingled and Finn turned his wicked, blinding grin on them without the protection of the window. “Hey, think I can get that number now?”

“Hopeless,” Leo chided, betrayed by his pink cheeks.

“Laundry and a show.” Finn pinked at the kiss to his cheek. “Hey, sweets.”

“You are not being laundromat-appropriate,” Logan said firmly.

“You didn’t like my ‘hello’? It got your attention.”

Finn was warm under Logan’s frozen hands, from his threadbare hoodie to the jut of his hips as he smoothed them down Finn’s sides and brought him down for a kiss of his own. “I’m talking about the sweater.”

“Ah.” He only caught a peek of Finn’s smile before he got to taste it. “Guilty as charged. Mmm, envelope glue?”

A light pinch to his hip made Logan jump. “Told you,” Leo whispered.

Logan turned his head so his cheek slotted against Finn’s and blinked innocently. “And which one of us got two kisses, hmm?” His vision darkened as Finn leaned down again. “Three.”

“Dirty trick.”

“Four.”

“Cheater.”

Logan caught him by the pocket just as he went to swap out the washing machine; the paper of their ‘to-do’ list crinkled under his fingertips. It would leave graphite smudges to match the marks on Leo’s hands. “Fifteen envelopes,” he mused. The lingering glue was bitter on his tongue when he swept it over his lip. “Got anymore for me?”

#logan tremblay #leo knut #finn ohara #cubs #oknutzy #lumosinlove #coast to coast #vaincre #my fic #fanfic #oknutzy week 2023 #fluff #errands

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fruitcoops · 10 months

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Way Down on the River

O’Knutzy Week Day 2 ( @oknutzyweek2023 ) : Bucket Hat (B1) + Advice (D1) with Leo’s grandmother <3 O’Knutzy belong to @lumosinlove, but I made up Apolline!

Sweet tea on a summer evening, and Leo is happy. Finn can see it from a room away. He hums along to the radio filtering in from the backyard, bass-boosted by the joy of his family. Logan is almost certainly charming Wyatt at the barbecue.

But Leo is happy without any of that. Condensation buds along his fingertips; he balances two fresh glasses of tea in one hand and reaches for the screen door with a childlike sort of excitement. The ice cubes ring almost as soft as his greeting through the fine mesh.

Finn lowers his voice and ducks his head. “So should I call her ‘MeeMaw’, or…?”

“We aren’t really about the ‘MeeMaw’ life here,” Eloise laughs beside him.

Outside, the porch swing creaks gently as Leo sits with a smile and a sigh Finn can hear through the door. Mismatched glasses clink on mosaic tiles.

Dusk looks good on him. Contentment looks even better. He loves it when Leo is happy.

“I really don’t think I can just call her Apolline,” Finn murmurs. The silhouette to Leo’s left waves a hand through the air; more laughter siphons after it. “I mean—I know she asked me to, but it feels wrong.”

Eloise’s smile crinkles her nose. “You are too sweet sometimes, Finn O’Hara. The kids call her Granmѐ. Everyone else goes with Mama Lee.”

Finn nods slowly. He’s been lucky enough to call Leo his for over a year now, but he can’t fathom a world in which he calls his boyfriend’s beloved grandmother by her first name. His mother would be horrified. He would be horrified. His ancestors would rise up and smack him for the sheer disrespect.

“Mama Lee.” It’s not so bad. Eloise looks pleased, at least. Finn tilts his head from side to side, weighing the sound. The porch lights cast Leo and his grandmother in a neverending sunset on their shared seat.

Outside, Leo says something that sends them both into peals of giggling. Eloise huffs under her breath and sets a dry plate aside. Her eyes are bright and warm when she glances at him. “I hope you know you’re not getting him back.”

“Not a problem,” Finn laughs.

“It’s a wonder we ever got him home from sleepovers. Though—” She pauses and cranes her neck to look out the door. “—between the two of us, I think my mother is about ready to adopt you boys at the first opportunity.”

And you must be Finn. Light brown skin and dark eyes and smile lines that told of a life well-lived and well-loved. A peacock-blue shawl of cloudlike softness, a carpet bag bulging at the clasp with gifts and food. Call me Apolline, honey. A voice like summer thunder on a lazy river. Magnolia and citrus perfume. I hear you like cards?

“You think so?”

Eloise shakes her head, grinning. “You were hers the second you knew how to play gin rummy.”

Finn sends a silent prayer of thanks up to his own grandmother for training him with ‘Wheel of Fortune’ and cookies. “I was not prepared.”

“Nobody ever is.” Eloise nudges him with her elbow and casts a significant look out the door. “She counts cards, you know. Like she’s in Vegas. Swear to God I’ve seen her with aces up her sleeves.”

A sharp burst of laughter fills the house before someone—his mother, he thinks—hurriedly shushes it. “That’s your boy, mm?” Granmѐ gives an approving nod. “I like his voice.”

Leo buries his smile in the rim of his glass. “Me, too.”

“You said he reads out loud?”

“Sometimes.”

She nods again, settles deeper into the cushions, and tucks her shawl close with a long exhale.

“He should work at the library. Kids want a voice like that.”

“He wanted to be a teacher if hockey didn’t work.”

Granmѐ’s pleased hum echoes in his memory, a threadline mapping a hundred honeyed afternoons. The breeze cools them both; he slides his feet beneath the folded lap blanket, but keeps his tea close. She made it. It’s rich and sweet the way he has never managed to replicate. It sticks to his teeth, his throat, his heart, and shoos the drenched heat of summer off like a naughty cat from the yard. If he closes his eyes, he can taste the sun inside it.

“He likes you.”

She says it with the surety of someone who simply knows these things. Leo catches a drip of tea that threatens to slide off his glass. “He does.”

“Cher, he likes you something fierce.” She spares him a sly glance before looking back to the street, where the sun has long since set over the roof of their neighbors’ house. One slippered foot extends to give them a push off the ottoman—the hinges whine, but rock them nonetheless. He has fallen asleep out here with her so, so many times. Granmѐ clucks her tongue. “Your other one, too. Your français.”

“Logan,” Leo supplies.

She waves him off with a tch that makes him grin. “I know.”

“Ouais, Granmѐ.”

Her clever eyes dart over him, up and down. Her mouth is set firm but he can feel her amusement like a cradling wind. “I know,” she repeats. Leo could listen to the syrupy slide of her French forever. “The love life of my grandbaby is up here somewhere.”

Up here somewhere. As if she isn’t the sharpest person in the room at any given moment. “Ouais, Granmѐ.”

She hums a playful warning, but smiles when he sets his glass aside and scoots closer to her. “There is a difference,” she notes without preface.

“Hmm?”

“The liking.” She casts her shawl aside with a flick of the wrist; her touch is gentle as she takes the bucket hat from his head and brushes his hair out of his eyes. He has his father’s height, but he knows he’s his mother’s son in her eyes. “And the loving.”

She watches him. Just…watches. Her hand lingers by his face, warm fingers drifting butterfly-soft over his skin. Summer has painted her with the deep brown freckles that stipple his memory—the marks he would trace with grasping hands in childhood Augusts, and the ones she would map on his own nose and cheeks with a fingertip to show they were just the same. They spent ages in the grass like that, across from each other on a gingham blanket as old as his mother, a namesake and her mirror.

“They love me,” he says softly. It’s part promise, part reassurance. He’s not sure who needs it more right now.

The wrinkles by her eyes deepen with contentment. “They do.”

“I love them.”

“You love so much, boo.”

“But them—I really do.” She needs to know this. He needs her to know this. She had known everything, like always, even before he told her. And he told her before anyone else.

Granmѐ, I don’t think I like girls like I’m supposed to.

Is that what you’re so wound up in? She hadn’t even looked up from her puzzle. Mmhmm. Come find my corner piece.

Crickets and frogs fill the silence, growing bold in the hastening night. The windchime twinkles at the corner of the porch. Leo has never met anyone who sounds the way his grandmother does. She has the whole depth of the river in her voice. Spanish moss pours off her words. He can see the breadth of the bayou in her searching eyes. “Give your heart to the people that deserve it, Leo.”

He is five years old and falling asleep against her in the rocking chair, and she is humming to jazz records with a hand on his back, and he is safer there than anywhere in the world.

His voice shakes when it slips out. “Do they deserve it?”

“How could I tell you a thing like that, hmm?”

But she’s smiling. And Finn laughs again inside and the smile stays, wide like his own. Leo sags with the relief. She doesn’t hesitate to pull him into a hug that seals up the hairline cracks of homesickness with golden honey. He twists a tassel of her shawl between his fingertips and allows himself to pretend the world is as simple as it was when they’d lay out under the spilled-milk stars and she’d bundle him in peacock blue to chase away the chill.

His next breath comes out wet. “They deserve it.”

“I think they’re going to work very hard to make sure they keep deserving it.”

“I love you.”

Her hand is so strong when she passes it down the back of his head. He feels her answer in the pressure and the slowness, as if she doesn’t want to pull away. But she does, and still, their arms touch when they take their tea back. Leo rests the side of his head on her shoulder and wonders if he should feel silly about it.

“Mama’s worried about you living by yourself out there,” he says once one song bleeds into the next in the backyard. It’s not even midnight. They’ll have time for the party later.

His grandmother scoffs. “Do I look like I need help?”

“Non.”

“Then you tell her I’m just fine.”

“I will.”

“And tell your daddy, too. Man thinks the bayou is dangerous, like he didn’t live there for years.”

“Ouais, Granmѐ.” The vowels drag out like a good stretch on sore muscles.

She gives a harumph that makes them both snort—Leo barely glances up when there’s a knock on the doorframe. “Bonjour. Do you need anything?”

He smothers a laugh at the crispness of Logan’s accent against their own. “Non, I think we’re okay—”

“Ah-ah,” his grandmother interrupts. Her fingernails tap lightly on the side of her glass. “More tea, if you’re asking.”

“Bien sûr, madame.”

Leo catches Logan’s eye as he bends and gives him a look of disbelief, mouthing madame? with a healthy amount of incredulity. The consequences come swiftly; the loving hand running through his hair bestows a firm swat upon the side of his head.

“Apolline,” Granmѐ corrects in a voice at odds to the smarting skin above Leo’s ear. He rubs at it and pointedly ignores Logan’s bitten-back grin.

“I’ll be back in a moment, madame.”

Logan’s gone with a smile and a wink that makes her bark a laugh. “He’s a good boy.”

“See?” Leo tilts his head towards the inside of the house. “Deserves me.”

“I don’t think your rouge will call me by my name, either.”

Leo shakes his head and sits up with a stretch that makes his wrists pop. “Told you they were raised right.”

“We raised you too well to even look twice at the rude ones,” she sniffs. Her haughtiness lasts only until their eyes meet, and then the joy breaks free. The porch swing sways in the night breeze; they laugh at the stars with tea-sweetness on their lips and thick cornbread warming their bellies. Yes, Leo thinks, they raised him too well to accept anything less than this.

#leo knut #finn ohara #logan tremblay #eloise knut #oc: apolline #cubs #oknutzy #coast to coast #vaincre #lumosinlove #my post #fanfic #fluff #family #the knuts own my heart #oknutzy week 2023

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marmarifer · 10 months

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O’Knutzy Week Day Two!!

Gardening Leo! A picture taken by Finn to be sent to Logan who will 100% die at how cute Leo looks with overalls 🪴

Characters belong to the lovely @lumosinlove and again big 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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itsaash · 10 months

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O'Knutzy Week

and the whole part of Leo at the grocery store is co-written by @heyitssmiller

Part 4 was kind of short, so I decided to just post everything I have done! Thank you for reading and this has been so fun, to be filled with love for the cubs all week.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Part 4

After afternoon mojitos, Leo cleaned the kitchen to prep for dinner. First he made the apricot shortcakes for dessert that he had practised on Logan at home (yes he had refrained from mentioning that they were called shortcakes when he had fed them to Logan, with lots of whipped cream … he pulled himself back from those memories while trying to work…) He breaded the chicken cutlets, grilled the romaine (and felt half melted while outside, the sun was out today) and put together a pasta salad with grape tomatoes, sundried tomatoes, and his homemade pesto. Haley and Ramsey were bubbly and kind and alternated between teasing Finn and earnestly asking about his day and his work. Leo loved watching them interact, it reminded him of his own mama in her big kitchen. The windows would be open there, too, although the smells filling the kitchen might be spicier and fuller.

Leo plated the food with garnishes on the beautiful pottery serving dishes and set it all out on the island for the O’Hara’s and the couple they had over that night to serve themselves. All of them were kind, but Finn, when Finn locked eyes with him to say thank you, Leo felt his heart rise up like it was going to float right out, and he quirked a smile back at Finn before turning to finish the dishes.

Finn had gone outside to eat with his parents, and Leo knew he'd eat a bit later, so he finished the dishes and plated the apricot shortcakes, with rather less whipped cream than he had given Logan, and set them out for when everyone was done eating.

They came back inside surrounded by laughter and the smell of the summer sunshine around them like a haze. Everyone cooed over the desserts.

“Are you feeding us a fried egg with whipped cream, Leo?” Finn teased. “Seems like a stretch, but what do I know.”

Leo rolled his eyes but joined the laughter. “Yes, Finn. It’s an egg. Add some salt and let me know what you think.”

Finn seemed to consider it, looking around the big kitchen, presumably for salt. Leo laughed and pushed his shoulder to guide him back outside. He looked down at his hand, on the back of Finn’s shoulder, at how every place his hand was touching was covered by a constellation of freckles. Leo huffed a laugh and said, “Just go eat it you plebeian, trust me it’s great. And it’s not an egg, it’s an apricot, a perfectly halved apricot, perfectly baked in perfectly flaky dough.”

Finn looked over his shoulder at Leo, his eyes taking in Leo’s hand, still on his shoulder, then travelled up to Leo’s face. A smile as wide as New York grew across Finn’s face.

“I do trust you, Leo. Can’t wait.”

Leo smiled back and dropped his hand as Finn went back to sit with his parents. He shook his head and went back to the never ending sink of dishes and looked out the window as he worked. He focused his eyes and mind on each colour of green of the leaves, the shapes of blue and white shifting across the sky, the pops of yellow and orange from flowers. There definitely were not images of freckled skin dancing behind his eyes.

tiktok inspiration

Part 5

The next morning, Sunday, after fluffy pancakes and crisp bacon, Leo needed to grab a couple of things for a change in plans for the one more dinner of the weekend. And somewhat reluctantly, when they were sharing an early morning coffee, he had agreed to Finn’s enthusiastic request to join him shopping. Leo loved his big heart, his contagious happiness, his ability to bring out smiles on even the worst of days. But he also loved his colour coded and military precise grocery store runs. But it would be ok. He only needed a few things.

Five minutes into the store and Finn was testing Leo’s patience in the sweetest, cutest way possible and it was driving Leo insane because those two things shouldn’t go together. “Sweet” and “testing Leo’s patience” were separate, non homogeneous, like oil and water - they shouldn’t mix. Yet here they were. His heart felt floaty again, despite anxiety quickening its beats, just a bit.

See, going to the grocery store was Leo’s home turf, his safe haven. He did it multiple times a week. It was part of his job. So naturally, he had a system - lists of what they needed from each aisle (starting from the front of the store and looping back around to the checkout counters, Leo was nothing if not efficient), the way he organised the cart, the way he didn’t take detours. It was a well-oiled machine: get in, get the things he needed, get out. Short and sweet.

And then came Finn, blowing it all to smithereens.

He meant well. It was actually very sweet, how he ended up tagging along to the store this time. It was his mama’s birthday and Leo had called her early, knowing she’d be up already for her run. He had sung to her over the phone, making her laugh. They had talked about what they were each cooking that day, and what he could make for her next time they were together. So, really, he was missing home. And after he had hung up the phone and Finn had stumbled into the kitchen earlier than expected and instantly picked up on Leo’s melancholy, he had told Finn the reason. He was like that - always attentive, always sensitive to the moods of others. And Leo liked to talk when he cooked (Finn joked that he should just start recording and he’d have his own cooking show in no time) so the story had come out pretty quickly, Leo rambling away while mixing pancake batter and Finn sat at the bar and listened, all keen-eyed and sympathetic and engrossed in Leo’s words.

The things this boy did to Leo’s heart.

One thing led to another and now here they were, with Leo’s original dinner plan of kebabs on the grill scratched and his mama’s ingredients for her homemade gumbo crammed into the bottom margin of his grocery list. Finn had asked Leo to tell him about his mama, and while he was cutting bananas for the pancakes he had mentioned gumbo and Finn had apparently never had gumbo??

Finn was… well. He was doing things to Leo that he wasn’t sure he wanted to admit to. But if something was going to hold his floating heart down to earth, it was how Finn clearly saw the sanctity of the grocery store in a very different light than Leo.

They were in the produce section, Leo grabbing okra and onions while Finn darted off towards whatever caught his eye.

“Leo!” he called, much too loudly, bless him. “Leo, look at this! What the hell is it?”

In his hands was some dulse, red-ish in color and leafy-looking. He held it up with his fingers and flopped it around with a delighted laugh. “Oh my god, it’s so weird!”

“That’s dulse,” Leo told him, smiling when Finn repeated it after him, rolling the word around on his tongue.

“What’s dulse?”

“Seaweed.”

Finn dropped the dulce with a banshee shriek. The offending seaweed hit the linoleum floor with a wet smack. People were staring. Leo grabbed at Finn’s waist to keep him from escaping and slapped a hand over his mouth, laughing as he did. “Shh!” he hissed, the word shaky as he continued to giggle. He couldn’t see Finn’s smile, but he could tell it was there, under his palm, by the way his eyes crinkled up at the corners. Leo removed his hand (selfishly and maybe a little deviously keeping the other at his waist, unable to resist), if only to see that smile even more. There it was - that lopsided, boyish smile that Leo was trying more and more to bring out as often as he could.

“Leo,” Finn said gravely, “cooker of delicious foods, please promise to never cook with that stuff.”

Leo picked up the offending dulse and inspected it, watching Finn shudder out of the corner of his eye. “Why not? I’ve heard this stuff is real good for you - lots of antioxidants and all.”

“We can get antioxidants somewhere else, please put the seaweed away now.” Finn’s attention was grabbed by something else and he gasped, running off and inquiring. “What are these?”

It was hard for Leo to be frustrated at his ruined grocery store routine when the wrecker of said routine was so damn cute. He was cradling a bamboo shoot of all things in his hands, looking down at it with puppy-dog eyes and a slight pout to his lips. “Leo. They’re so cute.”

“I- it’s a bamboo shoot?”

“You can cook with these?”

Leo grabbed one as well, rolling it in his hand experimentally. “Guess so. I’ve never used it.”

He wondered what their flavour profile was like. Were they hard or tender? Did they need to be blanched first? Were they primarily used as a garnish or was there nutritional value there?

Finn was suddenly in his line of vision, bent over awkwardly to do so, still cradling his bamboo shoot with a hopeful, pleading expression on his face.

They didn’t need the bamboo shoots; they weren’t on the list - hell, Leo didn’t even know how to use them.

But how was he supposed to say no to that face?

“Grab a few more,” he acquiesced, watching that smile appear again (goddamnit) as Finn lunged for more of them gleefully.

Leo pulled out his phone, not nearly as resigned as he pretended to be, and looked up new bamboo shoot recipes. He’d have the big kitchen to experiment in next week, after all.

Part 6 - free space: cliffhanger ;)

Finn was bouncing, and he knew it, and he couldn’t stop. It was a sunny day, the trees were perfectly and aesthetically manicured, the kitchen was clean and ready for Leo’s genius to arrive, his work was done, and Leo would be coming to stay for 10 whole days. 10 days! He had a running list in his mind of what they’d do during the week, on days where they could grab dinner at a food truck or pack sandwiches for lunch and do all the things Leo usually didn’t get to do on his weekends here. The beach, obviously. Put Leo beside the old wooden pathway down to the white sand beach, it could be a postcard. If the sun could stay shining they could bring a picnic blanket and spend time by the turquoise water.

If Logan wanted to, Finn supposed. His stomach flipped again at the thought of Leo’s boyfriend, that unknown factor might slow his bounce a little … but if Leo loved him, then he must be great, right? If he didn’t treat Leo well, well Finn didn’t know what he’d do. Not keep his mouth shut, probably.

No, a social studies teacher who Leo loves? Finn was sure they’d get along. He’d read that new biography book this summer after all, that seemed like it should be right up the alley of a teacher. And he’d have to make sure to let them have time together on their own too. He had made sure there were extra towels and hangers in the room Leo usually stayed in. Everything was ready.

He checked the train schedule, again, they would be here soon. He picked up a cloth to reflexively wipe the countertop, realised it was already shining, got the broom instead. He cycled through sweeping, and lining up the glasses in straight lines, and moving a vase of flowers around the room at least three times. When he got a text from Leo that they were leaving the train station, he went outside. He pulled dead flowers off the plants at the front of the house. The strong scent of marigolds filled his nose as he pulled the dried flowers off with a satisfying snap. Were you even supposed to deadhead flowers? Or let the plant reabsorb them? He didn’t know, but these ones were far too satisfying to stop, and the smell helped him take a few deep breaths, and he felt a bit more settled by the time an uber pulled up to the end of the driveway. He headed down the driveway, intent on helping them with any bags. He smiled wide as he saw Leo’s tall frame unfold from the car.

“Hi Leo!” Finn called as he got closer, waving. “Here let me take that,” he said as he reached for a duffle bag at Leo’s feet.

“Well, hello Finn. Good to see you. You didn’t have to meet us at the car. I do know my way to the front door, having been here once or twice before,” Leo teased.

Finn laughed, pushed his hand through his hair.

“Oh, yeah, I know. I was done working though and was outside anyways.”

“That’s sweet of you.” Leo turned slightly, looking over his shoulder. Finn followed his gaze to a shorter, dark haired man coming around the other side of the car. “Finn, this is Logan, my boyfriend. Thank you so much for inviting us to stay this week.”

Logan rounded the car as Leo was talking. He took his sunglasses off and looked down to tuck them in his shirt, before looking up at Finn.

“Oh mon dieu,” Logan sputtered.

“Holy shit,” Finn gasped, barely audible. And then both of them:

“It’s you??!”

#characters by lumosinlove #o’knutzy #oknutzy week 2023 #chef Leo #hamptons au #cw food #cw drink #yep that’s the end #for now…

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