illvminate
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Using the moment of quiet, David glances over at the boy again. He seems to be around David’s age, with blue eyes, long lashes and a tousled mop of blonde hair that’s attesting to the fact that he overslept. Even now, he’s slouching over the counter, his chin in one hand as he looks out onto the Christmas market, eyelids droopy. If David isn’t mistaken, his eyes are a little red, which also explains the faint scent of weed that has mixed in with the smell of gingerbread and toasted almonds.
David fights the urge to roll his eyes. So he’s stuck with a lazy stoner for the next few weeks. This just keeps getting better.
(or: an AU in which matteo and david work at the christmas market together and david is convinced matteo is homophobic. tomfoolery ensues. written for the druck advent calendar 2019)
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“What? I’m just saying, the probability of actually meeting your soulmate would be tiny, right?”
“No,” Matteo defiantly says. “That’s not how it works.”
“How does it work then?” David chuckles, tracing the shell of Matteo’s ear with his finger.
Matteo shrugs and props his head on one hand to look at David. “When you’re soulmates you always find each other, eventually. In every life.”
(Or: a soulmate AU in which David and Matteo fall in love in different eras leading up to the present)
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David feels like he’s entered an alternate dimension when he steps foot into the flat share on October 1st.
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David has tried to get Matteo to sit for him before, but never with much success. It usually takes about five minutes for Matteo to get bored, to start moving about and cracking stupid jokes and another five, if David is lucky, until he’s snatching the sketchbook out of his hands and taking its space in his lap instead. No matter how hard David tries to persuade him, there are few things that can keep Matteo from fidgeting and running his mouth; strong ropes and David’s undivided attention seem to do the trick, though.
Recent bookmarks
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- Words:
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Bookmarked by gremlinlando (illvminate)
26 Feb 2026
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Summary
On the life of his whole career, Lando would swear he doesn’t mean for it to become a routine, the café.
Only, on Monday, Lewis stops technique to compliment Max’s extensions during centre adage – Max’s – and then directs his stupid, stuck-up, closed-lipped grin at Lando when he fucks up the timing of the same combination during his group’s rotation at it. And Lando can’t sit around the lobby avoiding everybody’s eyes after, feels like he’ll suffocate if he does, so he wraps his scarf around his neck another time and trudges the same four doors down, shoulders through the same door.
“Morning!” Oscar calls from behind the counter.
(Alternatively: Lando is a ballet dancer in timeout. Oscar works in a coffee shop. This is a Hallmark Christmas movie.)
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Bookmarked by gremlinlando (illvminate)
31 Dec 2025
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Oscar told himself he wasn’t going to let this fuck him up. And he won’t.
But.
Bookmarked by gremlinlando (illvminate)
10 May 2025
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Thirty seconds. The video is thirty seconds, and it takes two words, right at the end. Two words that are soft, gentle—you’d have to strain to hear them, but Lando doesn’t need to. He can’t hear anything else. They rattle around in his head, vision blurred, mouth dry.
His hands shake, but then again, they always do.
“Fuck—Lando."
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Bookmarked by gremlinlando (illvminate)
12 May 2025
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Lando can’t think, can’t breathe. He wants to get on his knees, his back, put Oscar on his and keep him there.
What the fuck.
Bookmarked by gremlinlando (illvminate)
13 May 2025