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#st. tweedle
peggyrose19 · 2 years
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I have a hurt-comfort fic nearly finished but I cannot stand this fucking country right now so you all get teeth-rotting St. Tweedle fluff instead. Set some point in the future in the SW/Vaincre universe. No spoilers. Aside from the fact that Luke and Saint are characters that exist. 
Also, those that sent in fic prompts I haven’t answered yet: I haven’t forgotten about them! I will get to them hopefully this weekend. Work is just being rude and kicking my butt. 
characters belong to @lumosinlove 
Warm light filtered through the windows of Luke’s bedroom, waking Saint early. He blinked blearily out the window, seeing only fuzzy shapes and warm light. Luke had an arm around his waist, warm and solid at Saint’s back. Saint craved mornings like this, when he was free to wake up naturally, not to some infernal alarm. Most of all, he liked waking up with Luke beside him. Sometimes it still felt like a dream.
Saint let his eyes slip shut again, enjoying the warmth and comfort, letting himself relax into Luke’s embrace. So rarely did he feel safe, but in that moment, in the safety of Luke’s house and embrace, it felt almost like nothing could touch him. 
He felt before he heard Luke wake, hand sliding along Saint’s stomach and pulling him closer. 
“Morning,” he murmured, lips by Saint’s ear. Luke’s voice was low and rough in the morning and Saint loved it. He thought he could listen to Luke talk forever. 
“Morning,” Saint replied, tilting his head back until Luke pressed a kiss to his cheek. His skin was rough, in need of a shave, but Saint didn’t even mind. 
“What time’s practice?” Luke asked, still slow and sleepy.
“It’s Sunday, Tweedle, we don’t have practice today.” Saint fought a smile. Of course he’d forgotten. 
“Oh. Right.”
Luke fell silent again, pressing, soft, slow kisses to Saint’s neck and shoulders, lips gentle and dry. He tangled their feet together, and Saint let him, enjoying the feeling of being so completely wrapped up. He never would have guessed he liked the closeness so much. 
“Want breakfast?” Luke asked eventually. Saint shook his head.
“Later. Just, stay here with me for a bit longer.” It came out as a question, a hesitant one, but Luke snuggled closer immediately without another word. Saint let his eyes close drowsily, falling somewhere between asleep and awake, aware only of Luke’s arms around him, Luke’s chest against his back, their ankles tangled together. The contact tethered him, kept him present, comforted him. 
Eventually they got up, slowly, sunlight dappling across blanket-warmed skin, with soft smiles and gentle touches. Saint dragged Luke into the shower with him and washed his hair, kissing his neck even as he could taste the bitter chemicals of soap on his skin. Luke let him rinse the bubbles from his hair before he turned, kissing Saint with a hand in wet curls, tugging him closer. Saint let himself be kissed until the water turned cold and Luke finally let him go, running a hand over pink, smirking lips. 
Luke made breakfast once they got out and dressed, Saint leaning against the counter and watching. He smirked when Luke nearly dropped a hot piece of toast, laughing at the glare it earned him. They ate at the kitchen counter with their feet tangled together, voices quiet as late morning sun filtered through the windows. Saint watched particles of dust float through the air and wondered faintly when this had become his life. 
When they finished, dishes left in the sink for later, Luke collapsed onto the couch, nose buried in a book a mere five seconds later. Saint watched him amusedly for a moment before curling up across from him and switching the television on quietly. Luke didn’t even look up.
Saint had never been one for contentment. He ran far too often for that, to set down roots, get comfortable in a familiar place. He didn’t like letting people in, letting them get close. His secrets were just that, secrets. Others didn’t know about them and he liked it that way. But somehow, somehow Luke had learned them. Luke had taken apart his walls, one brick at a time, never flinching from what he found. Saint supposed that’s what he loved about him. 
Maybe it should have felt more like a revelation. A surprise. Something life-changing. But that was the thing about life, it was always changing. And Luke had been changing his life for months now. Loving him wasn’t anything new. It felt, after all this time, like the easiest thing in the world. 
Saint looked over at Luke, curled up on their sofa, tattered book in his lap. One of his father’s probably. Or maybe his well-loved copy of The Song of Achilles. He took him in, all tousled curls and soft edges, the faint flush of his cheeks and the tip of his tongue poking out as he concentrated. 
“I love you,” Saint said to him, and it felt like the most natural thing in the world. 
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hecksee · 2 years
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Safe With Me
Hex? Hex posted a @lumosinlove oc fic in the year of 2022? After being MIA in the fandom for like a year and a half? More likely than you think
Anyways have this Vaincre St. Tweedle. I havent read Vaincre, so uh *thumbs up*
As always thanks to Haz for the characters, thank you to @peggyrose19 for the help with my boys, and @wonder-womans-ex for being a god and the best ever.
---
The sound of the bedroom door slamming echoed through the apartment, leaving Luke staring at the hallway where Saint had stormed off to. Luke’s ears were ringing, the silence being a stark difference from the shouting that had just taken place. It was unsettling. The calm before the storm, although, Luke supposed, that wasn’t right. More like the eye of a hurricane; everything unnaturally still and unsuspecting before the intense storm resumes.
He knew that Saint wasn’t mad at him, not really. They’d gotten into fights before, big blow-up ones happened more often than not when they’d first met, with their assigned rooming together freshman year. Fights over where they’d left their textbooks, where the food was put in the fridge, where their gear was stored; anything and everything was cause for an argument. 
But this wasn’t like that. It happened occasionally, Saint got overwhelmed and lashed out. Saint didn’t come from the safest environment to be vulnerable in. In foster care, it was safer to lash out, to mask your emotions with anger and get into fights to release the tension. That was Luke’s guess at least, old habits die hard; Luke knew that himself.
read more on ao3 here
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arrowofcarnations · 6 months
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Fic-O-Ween 2023 Day 4: Dead End
Some Luke/Logan friendship for day four of the fest (@noots-fic-fests)! Thanks to @lumosinlove for creating these two, and special thanks to @fruitcoops for beta-reading this and being an all-around excellent friend and hype noot. <3
Title: Birds of a Feather Characters: Luke Deveaux, Logan Tremblay Rating: G
(Contains Vaincre spoilers!)
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“Luke and I have been running along the river. You know, the Hudson River path? It’s been kinda warm so sometimes we lay out after. There’s a park with grass. It’s nice.” (Logan, Vaincre, May Part Two)
~
They didn’t have a set schedule or anything. It would happen like this: Luke would text him something like “Run tomorrow? Gonna be nice out,” Logan would send a thumbs-up, and they’d pick an access point along the path to meet—sometimes a familiar one, sometimes a new one way uptown or downtown so they could try out a different route. That’s how it happened in the beginning, at least. Now Logan texted first sometimes, too.
Neither of them were runners the way Finn was, both preferring to keep it down to a few easy miles at most. Sometimes they’d stop so Luke could pet a dog, or so Logan could take a picture of the view to send to his boys. It was…well, nice, like he’d told Leo. Grounding. Head-clearing. Nice, too, to hang out with Luke outside of practice, travel and team dinners.
He had other real friends in New York, of course—with Alex, Percy and Will as his teammates, it still kind of shocked Logan just how many friends he had here—but there was a level of understanding with Luke that was unique. Alex and Percy were loud, outgoing, hearts-on-their-sleeves people. Will was a thousand times more patient and level-headed than Logan could ever be. But Luke—Luke was a lot like him. A hundred silent thoughts for every one said aloud. Guarded around new people. Tough shells, Leo had said of the two of them. Logan supposed that was as good a phrase to characterize it as any. He just knew he was thankful for it.
On this particular day—the warmest they’d had since they’d started doing this together—they hooked up with the path near the George Washington Bridge and headed south, flanked by rows of still-blooming cherry trees lining the river. They’d timed it late enough in the afternoon for the crowds of cyclists, families and dog-walkers to have thinned slightly, but with enough daylight left so they could finish before dark. Streaks of orange and pink were starting to paint the sky by the time they reached Riverside Park. They found an empty spot and planted themselves there; the grass was cool on Logan’s skin as he flopped down on his back, only raising his head to take a sip of water before going boneless.
“Do you have a good route in Gryff?”
Logan’s gaze traveled from the wispy clouds overhead to Luke sitting beside him, bent over his own thigh in a stretch.
“Ouais, kind of,” he replied. He liked that Luke never used the past tense when they talked about Gryffindor, about his life there. “I usually go with Finn—he has his favorites. There’s one we do in the old part of the city that’s good. You know the Godric’s Hollow neighborhood?”
Luke nodded, switching to the other leg. “Hazard dragged us to a bakery there on some little dead-end street once.”
An ache Logan was now familiar with pinged briefly in his chest. Race you to the door. Damn, I can smell those croissants. C’mon, Lo baby, I’ll buy you something sweet. “I know the one. Pretty sure he built the route around that bakery. Even when Knutty and I sleep in, he’ll bring us back something.”
It was a relief to not have to pick and choose his words when it came to Finn and Leo. So new, and still so strange. Had there ever been a time before the last few weeks when he didn’t have to worry about implications?
Finished with his stretch, Luke sat up straight and rolled his neck and shoulders a few times before grabbing his own water bottle. “He’s a morning guy, eh?”
Logan nodded. “Annoyingly so. He needs a coffee in one hand and a book in the other just to keep him in bed past eight.”
Luke gave a hum of acknowledgement, then chugged the rest of his water. He was quiet long enough that Logan was about to ask something else, but then Luke, staring out at the water, said, “Saint’s the same way.”
It was a good thing that Logan had already noticed, that he’d already suspected as much, because it was easy to keep his expression neutral. He was surprised, though; not because Luke and Saint were a thing, but because Luke had told him about it.
“He’s a morning runner?” he asked, staying put in his casual sprawl as though no big news had just been dropped.
“No, yoga. Out on his balcony, ass crack of dawn, with this ugly tie-dye bandana on his head.”
Logan laughed, loud and bright, and it startled a little laugh out of Luke, too. “Goalies are crazy.”
Luke’s shoulders, which had been creeping up toward his ears, dropped; his whole body seemed to relax by several degrees, and he smiled. “They’re nuts.”
They both let the lull in conversation stretch for a little while after that. Luke eventually laid down under the waning sun like Logan was, both of them watching the sky as the city provided a familiar soundtrack of birds, dogs, people and distant traffic. Logan thought about how Luke helped make New York feel like a home away from home. About how nice, how necessary, it was to carve out new routines and memories in a place that was so tangled up with his memories of Finn, and how Luke seemed to know that, how he’d been helping Logan do that without ever discussing it. Though, he guessed part of it was that Luke simply wanted to hang out with him because he liked him.
Liked him and trusted him. Logan wasn’t sure how he’d earned that, but he knew he’d do his best to keep it.
And because he liked Luke, too, he had to turn his head on the grass to look at him and find out what the two of them were dealing with, even if it was awkward.
“Do the other guys know?”
Luke shook his head.
“Your families?”
Another head shake.
“Have you talked about it? You and him.”
Luke glanced away, then snapped his eyes back to Logan like he was making himself stick this out. Logan understood that more than he could put into words. “Not really. It’s—a thing, but not…no one’s said boyfriend. It’s not like Black and Lupin. Or you three.”
“D’accord.”
Luke didn’t ask him not to tell anyone. He didn’t need to.
“You don’t seem surprised,” Luke said after a moment.
Logan shrugged. “Not because—I didn’t hear anything from anyone. I think maybe I can see it because I lived it for so long.”
Luke looked like he was taking that in for a second. Logan hoped he got it right. He wasn’t Finn, who always knew just what to say to anyone, or Leo, who made people feel comfortable with the kindness that radiated from him like sunlight. But Luke nodded, tossed him a stick of gum, and started talking about their upcoming game on Tuesday, so Logan figured he hadn’t fucked it up too badly.
They talked hockey until they really started to lose the light, then made their way through the park toward the street, walking fast to keep warm as dusk ushered the spring chill back in. They lived close enough to share an uber, and Luke called one as they reached the curb.
Logan pulled out his phone as they waited; Finn had correctly guessed where he was just from a blurry picture of one of the pink-petaled trees from earlier, and Leo sent a selfie of the two of them with goofy grins from ear to ear and a love you, gonna kiss you in 2 days!!!. He forgot all about the weather, warmed from the inside out at the sight of them. He wanted that for Luke and Saint, too. He wanted it for everyone who still had to hide, who still told themselves they weren’t allowed to have it.
The car pulled up in front of them and, just before they got in, Luke put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing briefly.
“Thanks, Tremz,” he said, tone casual but green-brown eyes sincere. “For real.”
“No worries,” Logan said, a phrase he’d picked up from Leo. “Get in, I’m fucking freezing.”
Luke shoved him, then climbed into the car. Logan followed his friend close behind.
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lumosinlove · 2 years
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If you're willing, whichever number question you want to answer for St. Tweedle? They're so <3333
Do they enjoy dancing?
So much. Slow and fast, close and spinning. But I don't think anyone knows.
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fruitcoops · 2 years
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do you have any st. tweedle fics per chance?
I haven’t read Relic Keel, so no, but my lovely friend @peggyrose19 has a few!
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hazelnoot-analyst · 2 years
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Best St. Tweedle fics recs?
Ohohoho do I have some recs for you. They’re my favs and it’s quite possible I have either written or read every single fanfic of them. Not sure. But it’s possible. 
When In Vegas - @wonder-womans-ex 
One Word Answer - @wonder-womans-ex 
Coughing Up Secrets - @wonder-womans-ex (this one hurts)
You’re Going to be the Death of Me - @peggyrose19 
Hold Me Closer - @peggyrose19 (18+)
How It Could Have Gone - @hecksee 
WILD - @hecksee 
Happy reading!!
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marauderserasimp747 · 2 years
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*Now Taking Fic Requests*
I’m taking requests now! For @lumosinlove OCs and Ships!
This includes: O’knutzy, Coops, Jily, Dorlene, O’Darwin, Luke x Saint (St. Tweedle?) Etc.
Will Write: Fluff, Light Smut, Headcanons, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, funny scenarios, social media fics idea credit goes to @fruitcoops ,etc.
Will NOT Write: Drug use, Car accidents, Severe Drunkness, Self harm, heavy smut, xReader fics, etc.
I CANNOT guarantee a consistent update schedule. Some OCs of mine will be added depending on the request.
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wonder-womans-ex · 3 years
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Maybe he’s imagining it, but he thinks he feels another flower growing inside his lungs, taking root in his throat and his veins, blooming outwards and straining against his ribcage. He doesn’t have long before it starts to choke him, but, for now, he can revel in the ironic beauty of it, rather than the jagged, deadly unfairness.
or, my magnum opus. absolutely incredible characters created by @lumosinlove. enjoy (or not) <3
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moonyswriting · 3 years
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Heart and Soul
@peggyrose19 and @wonder-womans-ex had their birthdays over a month back and I didnt manage to make them a gift. but I still wanted to make you something because I wont just drop it after I missed the day. so this is for you two. you are incredible and talented people and I'm honoured I get to call myself your friend. I hope you'll like it.
characters by @lumosinlove
thank you for beta reading @moonofthenight
Chapter 1
“Final seconds of the second period on the clock, Frank. The Saint’s going for the goal again, passing Tremblay and going straight in Nutty’s direction-”
“And that was a hit on Leo Knut, by the Hollow’s Saint’s winger Andrew Kline. And now, the expected punches follow. Marly, they could have really seen Logan and Finn coming, right?” “Definitely, Frank. No team likes it when someone fights with their goalie but these two seem to be particularly protective of our sunshine boy. Tremzy is already throwing punches at Ethan Bart and I can see O’Hara skating over to them.”
“Oh and here comes Luke. Throwing off his gloves and joining his teammates. Maybe with all those uncovered wrists we could actually get a chance to see some soulmate tattoos again. Last one spotted was Kasey Winter’s almost two years ago now, spelling out Natalie, the name of his girlfriend. They still seem to be going strong; I’m happy for them. That incident did however get most of the players to cover their wrists up,” Frank waited for a second before continuing, “How’s the fight? Looks like we got a big one tonight, eh?”
“It is! We’ve got three people from each team fighting at the moment, but the Refs are pulling them apart now. Coach Weasley doesn’t look too happy that his players are risking injuries for fights again. He’s calling a few over now and I do not want to be on the receiving end of Arthur’s wrath, believe me.”
“Same here, Marlene. Huh, that was weird. Did you see that?”
“It was. Loops just had to shake DV so he’d move. He had stared a hole into the ice and didn’t react to the Coach or his teammate. Haven’t seen him do that before. Hopefully, he’ll be fully focused again after the break.”
“I’m hoping it wasn’t a bad hit. The Lions really don’t need another injury right now.”
“Especially after only just getting Finn back from his small wrist injury that didn’t allow him to play the last two games.”
“Yeah. We’ll keep everyone updated of course. I’m sure he’s being checked right now.”
“In the meantime, there were some fantastic plays in there. It would be quite nice for the players to have a good game before some of them get to have a break.”
“Yes, All Star week is next week and we’ll be seeing a few of the Lions there, such as the newly wedded Remus Lupin and Sirius Black, but also last year's MVP Logan Tremblay, of course.”
“I’m excited Frank! We’ll be right back after a quick break for the second period.”
-
Luke was still feeling off after the fight, going through the questions Layla asked him on autopilot. No, he wasn’t hurt, there was neither pain there nor there, yes, he could still remember his address and full name.
Their new PT seemed at a loss. She could see that he was acting very strange and, honestly, she was getting worried about forgetting some usually obvious injuries for his behaviour. There was only so much a human could guess, so she simply asked.
“What happened out there, Deveaux?”
It took a moment for Luke to register he was being addressed, mumbling a “nothing” before continuing to stare at the wall. How stupid did this boy think she was? 
Letting out a sigh, she clarified, “I just need to know if you’re injured or not,” after a second of hesitation Kayla added, “but if there’s something bothering you or just occupying your thoughts, you can always go talk to Heather. She’s helped a few of your teammates too.”
She watched his expression while telling Luke. Some guys were embarrassed of going to therapy. There was no reason to be, of course. No one got shy about having the PT check on them but when it came to mental struggles, they somehow believed they have to handle it all alone. Society and the messed up way of thinking that they teach children, honestly. She was glad they at least had some people on the team who encouraged visiting Heather any time they saw someone struggling. She knew Sirius really did help them a lot by being so open about going to her office at least once a week.
There really was no way to tell how Luke thought about her proposal, he certainly seemed to be thinking, but there was no way to determine what about. Suddenly Luke broke the silence.
“Can I go?”
Since Layla hadn’t found any injuries and she couldn’t really do more than encourage him to visit Heather, she let him leave.
The brunette was out of the room the second after the words had left her mouth.
--
They had won. The locker room was already buzzing, the mandatory playlist echoing into the hallway. After their last game against the Saint’s, which they had lost, the whole team was even more excited about having won. There was even some kind of dance match between Logan and Sirius going on, not that Luke noticed. He had been a bit off for the rest of the game, much to the dismay of Coach Weasley. That got him to spend most of his time on the bench in the last period, but he didn’t mind. For once, hockey was not his main concern, not even during this game.
He had seen it. When number 7 had thrown off his gloves for the fight, there it had been in black cursive. A soulmate tattoo, spelling out “Luke”. Of course "Luke" didn’t necessarily mean Luke as in himself, but there was still a possibility.
A possibility that his soulmate was a Saint. A Saint. He would have been happy with almost anyone, but no, it had to be an ice hockey player. He didn't care about the gender. Luckily he wouldn't even have to hide a relationship between him and a potential boyfriend because of Remus and Sirius. But a Saint? Even in his thoughts, he knew he was whining. The real problem was that they would not only live miles apart and would have practically no time for each other half of the year, but they would be opponents. In ice hockey, the other team is the enemy. He couldn't befriend the enemy and he definitely couldn't date the enemy. Even if he wanted, he'd be blamed for not playing as hard as he could or making exceptions when it came to his hypothetical boyfriend.
So really, dating a Saint was not an option.
Still, his curiosity got the better of him. If this was really his soulmate, no matter how much he didn't want him to be, he had to know.
Standing up, he made his excuses and slipped into the hallway, running along until he got to the other team's locker room.
Great plan, idiot, what will you do now?! You can’t just go in and ask in front of everyone.
Then a group of people stepped out, each looking at Luke as if he had a kick-me sign on his forehead and as if they were considering it. Quite a few had walked past him and when one held open the door for his teammate, Luke could see that there were only three people left in the room. No time better than now, he told himself, gathering some of his Lion courage and walked straight inside.
“The fuck, Lion?!”, one of the players mumbled while he left the room too, shortly followed by the other player that wasn’t the one Luke had been looking for.
He took a deep breath. The tattoo wouldn't refer to him. Of course it wouldn't. Why would it be a Saint, really. Stepping closer to the boy lacing up his shoes, Luke's eyes met a pair of brown ones, looking up through gold curls.
“Why are you here?”, the other asked, narrowing his eyes and standing up to be on eye level with the Lion.
Oh, the charm of rivalry, always straight to the point, no need for formalities.
“Do you want to brag about catching up? Hate to break it to you, but you’re not in the lead and we’ll win the next one anyway.”
Even though his words sounded confident, he leaned back and knocked on the wood of the benches.
“No,” the brunette stated, looking him dead in the eyes. This boy had activated Luke's competitiveness so there was no turning back, “to both. We’ll just win as we did today. Last time was luck and you know it.”
The other raised an eyebrow at him. “The only thing that was luck last time was that you got a goal.”
The nerve this person had. Here he was, coming to actually try to talk to him and possibly get to know him to find out about the tattoo and just got insults in return. Luke was about to shoot something back when the door opened again.
“Babe, you coming?”
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peggyrose19 · 2 years
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Hold Me Closer
Here have some Vaincre St. Tweedle, because yes I did in fact take the two scenes and like 10 total lines of dialogue between the two in canon and turn it into 4.1k fic why do you ask. I also wrote the entire thing in a week. It’s fine. @hecksee all done darling please enjoy :)
characters belong to the lovely @lumosinlove​
Disclaimer that this fic is 18+
Luke’s hat was a familiar weight on Saint’s head. He reached up a hand to touch the brim, running his fingers along the worn fabric there he knew to be a faded blue. Luke sat beside him, shoulders pressed together, not looking at him but not pulling away either. Saint raised his beer to his lips, taking another sip as he glanced at Luke from the corner of his eye. 
He glowed amber in this light, Saint noted. Strands of his hair looked red. A trick of the light, maybe. Those brown eyes were fixed on Percy across the table, and he was frowning. Then again Luke was always frowning. Especially at Saint. But sometimes not. Recently… recently Luke had been frowning less. Saint wasn’t sure what to do with that.
There was a stirring in Saint’s stomach that seemed to surface these days anytime he looked too hard at his friend and teammate. He didn’t know why it had started now; objectively, he’d always found Luke beautiful. Objectively, he’d always liked him. Or maybe not always. But long enough. So why did he want Luke now? What had changed in the last few weeks that had stayed buried for the years before? 
Maybe it was Black and Lupin, and all the support they’d received. All the hate they’d so artfully ignored. Or the knowledge that maybe, just maybe, this could be possible now. That he had a shot. Maybe he was done being scared. 
“Hey Tweedle,” Saint leaned over to speak low in Luke’s ear. The man hummed in response, tilting his head closer to Saint, even as his gaze stayed on the others. “Come with me?”
“Where?” was Luke’s reply, somehow curious and grumpy at the same time. 
“Just come on.”
Saint could feel his pulse in his throat as he stood, Luke following suit. 
“Need some air,” he offered the other guys with a quick smile. They accepted the answer easily.
Saint could feel Luke’s gaze on his back as he threaded through the crowded bar to the door. He hadn’t exactly been lying about needing some air; he had always found bars ever so slightly suffocating, no matter how few people there may be. And tonight it was packed. 
As the door shut behind them, Saint took a deep breath of the cool autumn air. It was refreshing, even as he shivered slightly in his thin t-shirt. Luke followed him around the building without a word, his silence a heavy presence at Saint’s side. 
“So.” Luke leaned casually against the brick exterior of the building next door, shadows dancing across his face. They were partly hidden like this, secluded in a tiny back alleyway. “Why are we out here?”
Saint just shrugged, but he couldn’t tear his eyes from Luke. They stood close, close enough for Saint to see the hint of green in Luke’s right eye, that little speck that always drove him crazy. Even in the dim light of a flickering street lamp, he could see the green, an anchor among a sea of brown. His expression was set, lips tugged down, but then again Luke was always frowning. 
Faintly, somewhere in the back of his mind, Saint knew this was a bad idea. The two of them. Luke was Saint’s best friend. They played in the NHL, on the same team. But he liked Luke, more than he’d liked anyone else before. He wanted to be near him, wanted him as he was. He wanted more than just his friendship.
It was then Saint realized they stood close enough he could feel Luke’s breath on his skin, the warmth emanating from his skin. Luke’s gaze darted to his lips then back up, searching Saint’s face. His expression was open and unguarded, the opposite of what Saint was used to. And yet it felt familiar still to stand before Luke like this, see the curiosity on his face, the dark curl falling across his forehead. Unthinkingly Saint reached out and brushed it behind Luke’s ear. 
Luke caught his hand before he could drop it, slim fingers wrapping around his wrist. Saint could feel Luke’s pulse through his warm skin, quick and light. He watched Luke’s breath hitch, caught in his chest. They stood there, watching, the tension electric around them. It felt as though even the air held its breath as they stared at each other, holding on, frozen to the spot. Luke’s hair fell into his face again.
Slowly, so slowly it felt like moving through molasses, Saint pushed his hair back again with the other hand, leaning forward until their foreheads touched. Still, neither said a word. Luke just looked up at him with wide, trusting eyes, just a hint of a smile playing at his lips, and Saint wanted to taste. 
He ducked down and pressed their lips together and Luke didn’t pull away. Instead Luke just pulled him closer, pulled their bodies flush together, falling against the wall and letting it support them both. His arm wrapped around Saint’s back, their hands still clutched together, and Saint held on for dear life, afraid that if he let go Luke would only disappear on him again. He let Luke pull the air from his lungs, all the longing and wanting from his heart. He let himself fall. 
It was hours or maybe only minutes later that they pulled apart, gasping for breath. Luke’s eyes shone even in the dim light, his cheeks flushed pink, his lips wet. Something about Luke seemed to take away all his self-preservation, for Saint didn’t stop himself from running a gentle finger across Luke’s lips, wiping away the moisture as careful eyes watched him. He couldn’t read Luke’s expression like this, wanted to know all the thoughts running through his mind. They seemed easier to manage than his own tangled thoughts. 
“Saint,” Luke whispered as he lowered his hand. 
“Yeah?”
“Why?”
Saint fought the urge to squeeze his eyes shut as the soft question squeezed at his heart. Luke sounded so sad, so confused. His expression stayed steady, but his voice was quiet, lonely. 
“Because I wanted to,” he answered finally, looking anywhere but Luke’s face. 
Gentle fingers touched his chin, lifting their gazes back together. Luke looked impossibly gentle then, all his sharp edges and cross frowns brushed over with a soft smile and warm eyes. Saint wanted both sides, wanted all of it. He loved seeing Luke fierce and aggressive on the ice, loved the set of his jaw and the darkness in his gaze. But, standing there at night, outside a crowded bar with the stars winking overhead, he fell in love with the gentleness too and the care in his touch. 
“Hey, kiss me again,” Luke said.
“You sure?”
He scoffed. “Since when do you ask?”
“Since it’s you.”
“Sappy,” Luke murmured, before he was kissing Saint again, warm and solid and strong, kissing the thoughts right from his mind, grounding Saint in the present and making him all too aware of the want burning a hole in his chest.
“Tweedle,” Saint said against his lips. Luke hummed and merely kissed his cheek, teeth scraping along his jawbone, making Saint’s body shiver involuntarily. “Luke,” he tried again. “Please. I want you, I want-” But Saint lost his train of thought as Luke bit at the junction of his neck and shoulder, just hard enough to sting, before soothing the pain with his tongue. Then again, on the underside of his jaw. Saint knew it would leave a mark by morning and he reveled in the thought. 
“Let me take you home,” Luke murmured. “Please.” 
“Yes,” Saint gasped, it was all he could say. He had wanted Luke for so long, yet it had crept up on him, seemingly without notice. If he thought back now, it seemed so obvious. In hindsight, he’d been falling for his goalie for months, maybe even years. He’d just chosen to ignore it.
“Please, take me home,” Saint said. 
Luke was quiet on the drive, but he kept a hand on Saint’s thigh, rubbing the exposed skin just above his knee. The radio played, though Saint couldn’t say what. He was far too focused on Luke’s hand on his body, his gaze still fixed determinedly on the road. Every once in a while, Luke’s fingers swept beneath the hem of his shorts, causing a thrill through Saint’s body. 
Neither moved after Luke turned the car off in his driveway. His house was nice, though Saint had been there before. A thick silence filled the car, hovering somewhere between thrilling and awkward. 
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Luke asked quietly, breaking the silence. His hand still rested on the gear shift, a gold ring adorning his thumb, a Rangers’ blue stone embedded in it. Saint had never noticed it before. 
Saint nodded. “Yes.” 
A flash of a smile. “Come on then.”
Saint swallowed hard and followed Luke inside. 
He watched quietly as Luke unlocked the door, dropping his bag by the door and his keys on a small plate on the counter. He shed his jacket, hanging it on a hook and glancing back at Saint. Luke stepped towards him, backing them up until Saint’s back hit the wall. But Luke didn’t touch him, didn’t say anything. They stood together much like they’d stood in that alley, breaths apart, the seconds stretching between them.
Saint didn’t know who moved first, but then they were kissing, Luke pushing him against the wall, pulling their bodies flush together. He arched into Luke’s touch, silently begging for more, Luke complying easily. They moved well together, Saint thought deliriously, working Luke’s lips apart and licking into his mouth, tugging a groan from his throat. He wanted more, wanted all of it, anything Luke was willing to give him. He wouldn’t take more than he was given, not this time. 
Luke only pushed harder, his hands sliding down Saint’s chest. He pushed Saint’s t-shirt up easily, finally touching bare skin. Saint thought he may just combust right there at the feel of Luke touching him, so purposeful and careful.
“Luke, wait,” Saint panted, and he stopped immediately. “If you don’t stop, I’m going to take you right here, and as much fun as I’m sure that would be-” Luke just raised an eyebrow at that. “Don’t look at me like that.”
Luke laughed, bright and loud, and Saint could’ve lived his whole life with that sound in his ears. It was better than any song, any cheering crowd. He couldn’t help his smile as soft brown eyes met his, alight with mischief and joy, so unlike the intense focus Saint usually found there. 
Luke smiled and kissed him softly. “C’mon then.” 
Saint followed Luke towards his bedroom, their hands tangled together. Luke flicked the lamp on by his bed and tugged Saint down with him. Saint let himself collapse, boneless, on top of Luke, trusting him to take his weight. Luke was warm and solid beneath him; it would have almost felt sweet had he not been able to feel Luke’s erection pushing against his thigh. 
He looked warm beneath the lamp's yellow light, inviting. That little smile played on his lips, one Saint had never seen before. Luke looked confident in a way Saint had never seen him, comfortable and secure in himself. It was intoxicating, seeing that confidence, knowing it was focused on him. It made everything feel sharper, brought to light just what was happening between them. 
Saint desperately wanted to touch, and so he did, pushing aside the collar of Luke's shirt and mouthing at his collarbones. Luke had already left his mark on Saint and now he wanted the same, wanted Luke to wake in the morning with the colors from Saint's mouth on him. He wanted to see the purple and red and blue in the morning and know it was him that did that, it was him that made Luke look that way. He wanted to take Luke apart with his teeth and his hands, until he was capable of nothing more than moaning Saint's name. He wanted more than he ever had and he didn't know when that wanting started, but now that it had he didn't think he could ever let it go.
“Saint,” Luke groaned, and he grinned sharply. 
“Something wrong Tweedle?” 
“No playing,” he panted, looking up with hazy eyes. “Please.” 
“Thought you liked it when I played.” And oh did Saint know the effect that would have on him. He couldn't help a smirk as Luke groaned and rolled his eyes. 
“You fucker.” 
“Well-”
“I swear to god if you finish that sentence I'm kicking you out right now.” 
Saint smiled widely and kissed him, softening that surly glare immediately. “Will you let me take your clothes off now?” he whispered into Luke's jaw. 
“God I thought you'd never ask.” 
The words were barely out of Luke's mouth before Saint was tugging his shirt up, Luke awkwardly helping to pull it over his head. Saint tossed it to the ground without a second glance. No, his gaze was caught by the expanse of bare skin now before him, tan and muscular and finally he was allowed to look and touch. He'd seen Luke in the locker room hundreds of times, but he wasn't allowed to look in there, wasn't allowed to want. It hadn't stopped him of late, but here, in the privacy of Luke's own bedroom, he didn't have to hide his lust. And he could look for as long as he pleased. 
“You…” he breathed, running his hands down Luke's chest. He arched into the touch. “You are so goddamn beautiful.”
Luke didn't answer, but he opened his eyes and watched, want clear in his gaze. Saint kissed down his chest, and he could feel Luke's breaths heaving in his lungs, could feel his quick heartbeat. His breath caught for a moment as Saint kissed his pectoral muscle, tongue flicking over his nipple. Luke arched into the touch as Saint traveled lower, licking and biting and kissing. 
He found a small tattoo on his right hip, two neat lines of cursive script Saint but seen many times before but had never been able to read in full. Life, although it may only be an accumulation of anguish, is dear to me, and I will defend it. Saint ran a gentle finger across the words. 
“What does it mean?” he asked. 
“It's uh, it's not exactly a happy story,” Luke warned. Saint just shrugged. Luke smiled, a bit sad. “It’s from Frankenstein. My dad’s favorite book. I got it after he died.” 
“Oh.” Saint wasn’t sure what to do with that. Although he supposed he had been warned. 
“I did warn you.” 
“Stop reading my mind,” Saint frowned. 
“Yeah. Okay.” Luke's voice sounded strained. “As enjoyable as this conversation is, your hand is on my dick and if you don't do something about that soon I'm going to just do it myself.”
Saint could only laugh at that, after a moment of stunned silence. He always found himself in awe of Luke, at how he could switch the mood of a room in a heartbeat. He stayed quiet a lot of the time, making his words that much more invaluable. Luke craved his words the way he craved water.
“I'm going to take your pants off now,” Saint said when he stopped laughing. 
“Thank you so much for informing me,” Luke said dryly, and Saint laughed again. The laughter caught in his throat as he undid the button of Luke's jeans and slid the zipper down. Luke pressed his hips up into Saint's touch, his ass lifting off the mattress. 
“Faster, c'mon,” he groaned. 
“So impatient.” 
But Saint tugged the jeans over strong thighs obediently, uncovering the delicate ink he knew he'd find on Luke's right thigh. 
“You gonna tell me about this one too?” he asked while throwing his pants to the side. Luke was left in just his boxers, straining against the thin fabric. Saint ran a hand over the bouquet of flowers so carefully drawn on Luke's skin, following it with his tongue. Luke jerked under him. 
“For my mom,” Luke panted. “Now ask about the snake and anchor another time, would you?” 
Saint looked up at him with a smirk. “Well the snake I've seen but where's the anchor?” 
“Ankle. And that was so not the point.” 
Saint just shrugged. Luke reached up for him then, tugging him down by the waist. Saint laughed as he fell, catching himself with his arms bracketing Luke's head. The movement pressed Saint's thigh between Luke's legs, and he could feel the rumble of a low moan in Luke's chest. Saint kissed him recklessly, unable to stop himself. Luke melted into the mattress and let him. He let Saint grab his wrists and hold them above his head, pressing their bodies flush together. 
“Will you take your goddamn clothes off now?” Luke panted into Saint's mouth. 
“Happily.”
Luke whined when Saint stood up, but it was momentary. Saint stripped his shirt and pants off quickly, standing bare before Luke in the golden lamp light.
“Fuck me,” Luke breathed, though whether it was an instruction or an exclamation Saint couldn’t be sure. “C’mere.”
Saint clambered over Luke's body, straddling his hips, bracketing his shoulders in with his arms. Luke's hands went to his hair and he let them, let Luke tug at his hair and bury his hands in it. 
“You still have your socks on, weirdo,” Luke muttered. 
“Really, that’s what you comment on? So do you.”
“Touché.” 
Luke wrapped his arms around Saint’s back then, fingers digging into the muscles of his shoulders. Saint tangled their feet together, letting his full weight fall on Luke and press them together until there wasn’t so much as an inch of space between them. Luke grabbed one of his hands, holding on tight, and Saint nearly wanted to cry at the desperate pressure there, the silent don’t go anywhere. Saint just squeezed back. 
Luke surprised him then by flipping them over, pushing Saint back into the mattress. Those strong thighs bracketed Saint’s hips, pushing down into him, pulling the breath from his lungs. It was a delicious, searing pressure, and his body screamed for more.
“Fuck me,” Luke breathed, a request this time. “Please.”
Saint grinned and rolled them back over. He loved the way the two of them worked together, the way they pushed and pulled like the ocean tide, giving and taking and giving some more. Saint would give Luke anything he asked for. 
“Do you have-”
“Bottom drawer.” Luke waved vaguely at his bedside table and Saint couldn’t help but smile. 
The moment he sat up again, Luke kissed him again, deep and greedy. Saint pushed his boxers down without breaking their kiss, and then Luke was bare before him, warm and safe and real. 
“God, you…” Saint trailed off. 
Saint had never seen Luke like this before, laid bare and turned on, cheeks flushed and eyes closed, smile hazy and wanting. He liked it, liked having Luke under his hand like this. As he began working Luke open, he wondered why it had taken so long. 
“Bash,” Luke whispered, and that jolted Saint from his thoughts. He hadn’t heard Luke use his real name in years, possibly not since they’d first met. It sounded sweeter in this light, far more intimate.
“Why’d you call me that?” he asked softly, not stopping his hand. Luke groaned.
“It’s your name, isn’t it?” How he managed to joke in that moment, Saint would never know.
“Yeah, but… Well, no one’s called me Bash in ages.” 
Luke blinked up at him. “Was it okay?”
Saint could only smile. “Do it again.” 
Saint added a second finger and Luke groaned his name, hips pushing up into his hand. He hunched down and pressed a kiss to Luke’s hip, the pretty, painful words tattooed into his skin, a memory Luke would always carry with him. 
“Bash, please,” Luke whined when Saint crooked his fingers. He just smiled and pulled away. Luke whined again at the loss of contact. “Saint.” 
Saint grinned as Luke looked up at him, panting. He was flushed from his cheeks to his chest, gorgeous and glowing. He didn’t look away, couldn’t, as he slowly pressed in, watching Luke’s face so carefully. Luke’s eyes slipped shut at the sensation, his head falling back against the pillow.
“Open your eyes,” Saint whispered. Luke did. His pupils were blown, gaze hazy, but he looked straight at Saint, smiling even as he gasped for breath, even as he arched his back and their hips met. 
Saint could barely breathe as he moved, Luke a tight, warm heat around him, his body sweaty and familiar. He kissed Luke’s sternum, tasting the salt on his skin. It was the sweetest thing he’d ever tasted. Luke’s hands were in his hair again, buried deep in his curls, not tugging but rather just holding him there, holding the two of them together, in place.
“God, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” Luke groaned. Saint looked at him sharply.
“You have?”
He scoffed playfully. “Don’t look so surprised.”
“I am surprised.” 
Luke looked up at him. “Saint if you don’t know how much I want you, you clearly haven’t been paying attention.”
Saint stopped moving entirely. Luke just watched him.
“You really didn’t know?” Saint shook his head silently. “Now you do, I guess.”
Still reeling, Saint started moving his hips again, pulling another moan from Luke’s pretty lips. He looked ethereal in this light, strands of hair spilling across the white pillowcase, eyes wide, cheeks flushed, tan skin glowing. Saint's chest warmed at the thought that only he got to see Luke like this, taken apart in the safety of his bedroom, giving himself wholly over to Saint to do as he pleased. It did funny things to his heart he didn't want to think about yet. 
Luke groaned his name beneath him, crying out a warning as he came. Saint held him through it, kissing the gasps and whispers right from Luke's lungs. He stayed still as Luke clutched at his back, holding him in place, begging silently. 
“Luke,” Saint groaned out and he too was coming, buried deep inside Luke. Luke, who whispered his name so softly, lips at his temple, hands smoothing down his sweaty back. Luke, who held him in place when he went to pull out, keeping them together, as close as two people could be, breaths mingling as they slowly came down. 
Saint could feel the breaths slowing in Luke's chest, the rise and fall beneath him becoming more even. Luke brushed sweaty blond curls from Saint's face, gently, as if Saint were something precious, fragile, about to break. Oddly, it soothed him, the soft care. He relaxed into him, Luke taking his weight without a sound, head falling onto his chest. They were both sweaty and sticky, desperately in need of a shower, but neither moved or made a sound, reveling in the peaceful quiet. Saint let his eyes slip shut and gave himself up to Luke's gentle touch. 
Luke pulled another orgasm from him that night with just his fingers and tongue, teasing and touching and kissing, bringing Saint right to the brink and keeping him there, a small mischievous smile playing at his lips in the soft light. When Saint swallowed him down in return, in the early hours of the morning, it took mere moments before Luke was crying out, hands clutching at Saint’s shoulders as he came. 
They lay together in Luke’s bed as the sun came up, tangled and sticky and sated, hovering somewhere between awake and asleep. But, tired as he was, Saint couldn’t tear his gaze away from the picture on Luke’s dresser. It was of the two of them at a party, nearly a year ago. He remembered it being taken. Luke’s arms were around him and he was smiling, for once; his faded blue hat sat on Saint’s own head like it always did, hiding wild blond curls. 
They looked happy in that photograph. Saint didn’t know where it was from, how Luke had gotten it. Nor did he know why it sat framed in his bedroom. It tugged at his heart in a way he couldn’t quite discern, but he couldn’t quite seem to stop. He couldn’t help but wonder how long it had sat there, displayed, for Luke to glance over at every day. 
Saint thought back to Luke’s words, the low admission of wanting him, for weeks, months, maybe even years. He wondered how he’d missed the signs. He wondered if he really cared. 
The picture on the dresser was a happy one, the two of them smiling as friends, teammates. But maybe after all of this, Luke would let Saint replace it. Maybe Luke would let him take a new picture, of the two of them smiling as something more than friends, lovers or maybe even partners. Maybe Luke would let him in. And maybe Saint would let him.
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hecksee · 3 years
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Have LukeAint memes I made last night bc that chapter oh my god
As always @lumosinlove made these ocs and their story
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Thank you, that is all, good day
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heyitssmiller · 3 years
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So the discord and I are up to no good again ( @wonder-womans-ex @im-oknutzy-trash @asunshinepuff )
And we created a St. Tweedle WW2 au. So I wrote this little thing. Saint as a fighter pilot and Luke as a navy officer. :))
.
Saint comes back from a dogfight with a thousand yard stare and trembling hands. Luke can tell he’s shaking even as he’s climbing out of the cockpit of his F6F. Normally he’d chalk it up to the adrenaline that always came with a fire-fight like that, but not this time. It was those eyes that gave him away - usually bright and expressive, now dull and more than a little lost.
Luke didn’t know what happened, he’s not sure he wants to. He just jerks his head in the direction of their bunk room and sits down on the bed. Not a minute later, Saint is there, locking the door behind him just to be safe. He climbs into Luke’s lap, biting down hard on his bottom lip, and buries his face in the coarse material of Luke’s uniform. It smells like salt and the sea - nothing like engine grease and gasoline. It soothes him more than anything else he can think of. That and the steady motion of his chest as he breathes, in and out, back and forth like the waves they were currently traveling over.
Saint breathes along with him.
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lumosinlove · 2 years
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31 for St. Tweedle?
What’s a perfect date for them?
Hmm...I'll say some type of competitive activity. Maybe they like to train together, like boxing or something. It gets them smiling and they love the sharp edge of competing that's always right there. Gives something of a contrast to that soft as hell kiss Saint gives Luke when they're done.
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moonofthenight · 3 years
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My Playlists
I've made a few playlists over the last months and thought I might share them here as well. They are by no means finished, I always add new songs if I find one that's fitting! I've made these playlists based on the vibe of the relationship/person/show. Most songs have a fitting lyrics but there are also some that are there for the mood.
The first six ships belong to @lumosinlove
coops
this playlist is a whole emotional rollercoaster, it's sad, happy and sappy but so so coops
o'knutzy
this one is mostly cute and adorable, very much giving away the "I'm so fucking in love" vibe
finnlo
this is, as you may have suspected, very sad. there are like two happy songs in there but it's great to get in the finnlo mood
o'darwin
this one has a very chill, happy but also adventurous vibe
skip a beat
this playlist is for the O'Knutzy Dance AU that I am writing/that I wrote. It is mostly very happy and has songs on it that fit the story but also songs that you just want to dance to! It is cute but also upbeat
st. tweedle
it has island vibes but also a few sad songs cause it's st. tweedle. since we don't know much about them yet this playlist will probably grow and change from time to time
young royals - happy
their relationship isn't all heartbreak so I captured the happy feelings with this playlist
young royals - sad
the more canon version
i don't feel like our love is brand new
it's for one my absolute favourite wilmon fanfiction of all time (by @prince-simon on AO3); it mostly got more of a happy, dancy vibe and is really really sappy
can i put a ring on it?
yes, it's a wedding playlist and yes it's for the fic above this link - it's very emotional but it gets so fun and upbeat towards the end !
wilhelm
it's soft and powerful, just like our favourite swedish prince
simon
want to feel badass? this might be the perfect playlist for you; but beware, you might get surprised by some emotional songs in between
i hope you have a nice Christmas
(The Wilmon Christmas playlist (in a happier universe where they actually get to spend it together))
would you kiss me?
the nick and charlie playlist (very much a "coming off age" movie vibe and it includes the songs from charlie's playlist for nick)
nick nelson
generally, it has very good vibes but you might get emotional from time to time
charlie spring
to be honest with you, this is just emotional but in a good way... most of the time
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arrowofcarnations · 2 years
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Masterlist (updated 10/26/23)
Lumosinlove universe: Sweater Weather, Coast to Coast, Vaincre, YSAMS, etc.
Coops (Sirius/Remus)
A Taste of Honey (Early-days, heart-eyes Coops; mutual pining, fluff, humor)
O’Knutzy (Finn/Leo/Logan)
Beskar Babes (18+; O'Knutzy smut with a Star Wars flair)
O’Knutzy Week 2023 series, aka Triwizard Tournament cubs: Day 1, Day 2, Day 3, Day 4 part 1/2, Day 4 part 2/2, Day 5
Corn Maze ('Cowboy au' O’Knutzy fluff, get-together, ficlet)
Wherever You Find Love, it Feels Like Christmas (O’Knutzy fluff with a holiday flair)
I’m Gonna Thrill You Tonight (18+; O’Knutzy smut & fluff; the cubs host the team Halloween party)
Hold on to Me (O’Knutzy YSAMS au; angst, war au, chaptered fic *incomplete, on indefinite hiatus*)
FinnLo (Finn/Logan)
Love at First Fright (Harvard-era FinnLo fluff; the OKN boys passing out candy to trick-or-treaters on Halloween)
Like Real People Do (18+; FinnLo smut w/ established O’Knutzy; Finn and Logan “meet” at a bar; sex with a ridiculous amount of feelings)
the scent of you everywhere (18+; Harvard-era FinnLo smut; angsty, basically just Harzy pining)
Other/Gen
Come Rain or Come Shine (18+; fem!Remus/fem!Logan smut & fluff w/ established Coops & O’Knutzy; Logan and Remus spend a rainy day in bed together)
Birds of a Feather (Luke/Logan friendship fluff w/ established O'Knutzy & St. Tweedle; bestie bonding time while on a run)
Take Me, Guide Me (18+; Sirius/Finn smut w/ established Coops & O’Knutzy; friends hooking up and talking about their feelings)
I’ll be Home for Christmas (You Can Plan on Me) (Kuny/Nado get-together fluff with a holiday flair)
Harry Potter
Wolfstar
Inked (Wolfstar fluff and non-explicit smut, non-magical, modern era, tattoo parlor/flower shop au, chaptered fic)
Whumptober Prompt 1 (Wolfstar modern uni au, prompt fill)
Modern uni au snippet
Jily
Whumptober Prompt 2 (canon-compliant, prompt fill)
Perciver
Whumptober Prompt 3 (canon-compliant, prompt fill)
Other/Gen
Becoming a Potter (James & Sirius friendship, Sirius running away from Grimmauld Place, angst, short oneshot)
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hazelnoot-analyst · 2 years
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hi! can you recommend me some food old angst?
May I point you to the nearest chapter of Vaincre? Just scroll to the last couple paragraphs and you’ll be a mess for days! 
But anyway, as for some actual recs, here’s some gut-wrenching angst for you heathens. Please pay attention to any content warnings because some of these may be triggering!
The Broken Down, The Left Behind - @peggyrose19 (O’Knutzy)
Stained Flowers - @im-oknutzy-trash (O’Knutzy)
When We Lied To Ourselves - @wonder-womans-ex​ (O’Knutzy; quite possibly the most upsetting fic I’ve ever read)
Coughing Up Secrets - @wonder-womans-ex​ (St. Tweedle)
Where Do Broken Hearts Go - @moonofthenight (Coops)
Apparently we enjoy hurting the cubs. Anyway, all of the authors listed here have more angst fics as well, I just picked the worst ones. So if you want even more, I would recommend starting there. 
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