Hello SuFin fans! We are currently launching the (possibly?) first ever, SuFin Week! This event is the successor event to the Surströmmiakki Fest which ran on DreamWidth from 2013 to 2017. Our event will take place during the week of August 27 to September 2, 2018.
The prompts for this year’s event features both a one-word prompt and one time period. Participants will select one or both prompts to make their fanwork. All mediums are welcomed!
Our prompts go as the following:
- Day 1: Midnight OR 1700s
- Day 2: Memories OR 1940s
- Day 3: Seasons OR 1800s
- Day 4: Secret OR 1960s
- Day 5: Garden/Flowers OR 1930s
- Day 6: Music OR 2000s
- Day 7: Free Day
For more information about guidelines and rules, please click here. Our main tag for this event will be aphsufinweek!
We hope you’ll join us in all the fun! Feel free to reblog and spread the word!
This is my submission for the second prompt of APH SuFin Week!
Memories
“Do you remember the first time we came here?”
Tino smiles at him over the rim of his hot chocolate. The candle-light glows gold on his cheeks, sets his eyes ablaze and makes his hair radiate pure light like an angel in a church window. “Of course I do. You were twenty and I was, what, eighteen? Nineteen? It was our first date, and you were so terrified that you didn’t say a single word, and I was so terrified that I couldn’t stop talking and talking and talking. By the end of the evening you probably knew my entire life story.”
Berwald feels a breath of laughter build in his chest. “Hm. I did.”
Tino buries his face in his hands, blushing. “I must have seemed like a complete idiot.”
“No.” He answers a little too quickly. “No, it was adorable. Still is.”
“You’re too sweet.” Tino’s smile is radiant.
“I’m just honest.”
Tino doesn’t answer, only looks at him with eyes full of something deep and overwhelming and indescribable; a love so pure it transcends words and makes his heart swell so full that it will surely implode. There is no greater happiness than this. Berwald wants to capture this moment in a bottle and keep it forever.
“And the bicycle,” Berwald blurts, suddenly desperate not to let the silence linger so long it turns sour. “Do you remember?”
“Oh god, yes,” Tino laughs, setting down his mug. His eyes are already distant, glowing with nostalgia. “When you would ride me home on that rattling metal death-trap your cousin built for you. You would pedal, and I would sit on the back and cling to you, and the whole thing would creak and shudder and sway from side to side and go so fast it couldn’t stop – “
“That’s because there were no brakes.”
“And even so I would beg you to go faster, and you would, and the wind was blowing in our hair and stealing our breath and we were laughing and laughing and it felt like we could go on forever. Did we even realise how dangerous that thing was?”
“I think that was part of the appeal. We were young, and life was infinite.”
“We could’ve died, Ber!” Tino exclaims, half-laughing, half-scolding. “It isn’t funny! I’m surprised we didn’t end up in a wreck somewhere, and then we wouldn’t be alive to be here now.”
“But we didn’t, and we are.”
“Yes,” Tino says, and there is something new in his voice; something quiet and warm and weighted. “We are.”
When they leave the restaurant late into the night, Berwald half expects there to be a rickety silver bicycle balanced against the outer wall, dripping with artificial lamplight. He sees Tino glance at the spot too. They notice each other and exchange embarrassed looks, holding back laughter.
“I suppose we’re not going to be risking our lives tonight,” Tino says with a rueful smile. “Perhaps our life isn’t as infinite as it once was.”
Berwald wraps an arm around him. “We don’t need to risk our lives to make memories.”
And then, under the glow of a misty moon and thousands of tiny stars lighting the way, they turn and head for home.
I’m so behind on @aphsufinweek. ;A; I’m having a hard time with ideas right now and had to work on other fics that deadlines. I mixed in the prompts for both day 4 & 5: Secret + Flowers.
Björn is Sweden while Timo is Finland.
Björn loved the arts.
He spent countless hours in his makeshift studio that he proudly set up in a former spare bedroom. A place that simply had everything an artist could dream of—his talents proved just how much he lived and breathed his work. He was a designer by heart; he loved to make clothing and later branched out to painting and coloured sketches. Handmade crafts were also a favourite of his. A woodworking area was located in his garage where he made everything from birdhouses to large pieces of furniture such as headboards, cabinets, and even a full dining room set. He frequently travelled to shows to sell his work and was now branching out online with the help of an old friend who built his website for him. There seemed to be nothing he couldn't do.
The exposure did him well but Björn's time was not cheap. It was expensive to commission him but he was famous with the locals and even in small towns surrounding the suburb he lived in. Because of his reputation, he made good money out of his talents. It was hard to believe that there was a time he had wondered if quitting his office job was the right decision.
That was nearly five months ago. He doesn't ask that question anymore.
Lately he's been in the mood to paint. His canvas was always placed in the same spot these days: out by the window where he had a prime view of his neighbour's garden. His neighbour, a short but bubbly Finnish man named Timo, arrived to the area over a year ago and had been very supportive of his business, even taking the time to help collaborate on some crafts and fashion designs. He was an artist as well and loved to make children stories and comics. This past spring, Timo decided to take up gardening and the fruits of his labour created a beautiful field full of sunflowers in his backyard. Timo wasn't expecting much but his sunflowers grew quickly and rose to be taller than their shared white-picket fence.
So Timo decided to plant more flowers, all of them the standard easy-to-grow type of flowers. Soon marigolds, pansies, daffodils, and daylilies were joining the family and adding such a strong splash of colour to the scenery. Björn found it peaceful to sit by his bedroom window in the early morning hours with his coffee and could spend hours to staring into the endless layers of colours.
Timo's garden served as Björn's inspiration. But lately, he's been painting more than just his flowers.
He was painting Timo now too.
Björn was infatuated with Timo, and had been for a long time. He couldn't dare to say such a thing to his friend however. What would Timo think of him then? He was so kind with a big heart. Timo was always a phone call away if someone needed a hand. He loved Timo's company and was one of the few people in Björn's life that he could trust. He couldn't bare to lose a friend like Timo in his life.
So instead, he expressed his love through his paintings. There were some of Timo but nothing that would give any impressions of Björn's feelings towards him. For that purpose, he used two characters that he designed himself—two little sheep that came from neighbouring farms. They did everything together: taking walks in the fields, sharing food, and watching the stars. In his most recent painting, one of the sheep brought over a small bouquet of flowers for its partner that it loved so dearly. In return, the other sheep nuzzles its partner's face under a beautiful sunset.
He hoped he could bring Timo flowers one day too. But today won't be that day. His secret stays a secret for now.
In the kitchen, Timo put on the final touches to his surprise gift. He had spent part of the morning picking out some of the nicest flowers from his garden and arranging it into the best possible bouquet he could muster together. He wrapped it carefully in a fancy white paper and wrapped an expensive red ribbon around the stem area for that final touch. He took a small envelope that was next to his wrapping supplies and placed it inside the bouquet.
He had debated for weeks as to whether or not he should go ahead with the plan but with summer winding down, his flowers won't last much longer. The weather here was not predictable. It could be summer today but late fall by the end of the week. After all, he took up this project partially because of him.
It was easy to buy flowers from a shop. But growing your own and giving them to someone you liked meant so much more. And that was exactly what Timo had planned to do.
He had been anxious all week preparing for this moment. He didn't know what to expect from Björn. Would he be put off by it? Or would he graciously accept the gift as a platonic affair? It was hard to predict what was going on in the mind of that Swedish man.
But either way he was about to find out.
He arrived at the door and was hesitant at first but after taking in a deep breath and exhaling, he went ahead and knocked three times. He held the bouquet behind his back as his mind raced while he waited. In what felt like ages, the door finally opened and Björn greeted him.
“Oh, hello!” Timo replied nervously. He noticed Björn was wearing his old blue apron that was stained with different colours of paint. He felt a little guilty that he had come while the man was working. “I'm sorry, I can come back later if you're working—”
“'m not busy,” he interrupted. Björn noticed some of the large flowers sticking out from behind Timo and he couldn't stop staring at them. He was in awe of the colours, not even realizing they were the same ones as the flowers in Timo's garden.
Timo realized that his surprise was busted when he noticed that Björn's attention was elsewhere. Timo's cheeks went red as he revealed the whole bouquet to him.
“This is for you.”
Björn was tongue-tied and blushed when he took the bouquet from Timo. No one had ever given him flowers before. It was such a thoughtful gift and so much care went into making it. He couldn't stop smiling.
“Thank ya,” Björn said. He pulled the bouquet closer in for a quick smell of the flowers. It was then he noticed the tiny envelope hiding in between some of the lilies. He needed the use of both his hands so he placed the bouquet under his arms and pulled the envelope open. It was nothing more than a small index card with a simple sentence:
Would you like to go out with me?
Timo looked away shyly and Björn was at a loss for words. All this time... Timo liked him too? And he had wasted so much time wondering if he liked him too.
“Timo...”
The man was bracing for the worst. He didn't even wait to let him finish as his nerves took over and he was stumbling over his words, “Ahhh I'm so sorry! It was a silly thing to ask right? I mean, we're just friends and neighbours after all—”
“Yah.”
There was a long pause.
“Huh?”
“Yah,” Björn replied with a big grin on his face. “I'd like that.”
It took a moment for Timo to register what was happening as he stared at the man dumbfounded. He did not expect things to go this smoothly.
“Really? Do you really mean that?” Timo asked worriedly. When Björn nodded affirmatively, it was Timo's turn to smile as he felt as if his heart was going to jump out of his chest.
Björn offered Timo to come inside for coffee and cake and he simply couldn't say no. Coffee and his homemade cakes? That was a date just in itself! He had eventually forgotten all about the paintings upstairs in his studio. But he had much preferred the afternoon they spent together discussing just how long they had liked each other and where they wanted to go for their first date. On the coffee table where hours had passed between them was the centrepiece to their gathering—the flowers from Timo's garden.
Submission for Day 1 of @aphsufinweek! Prompt was Midnight. :3
The nights feel so long. They live apart and it makes things only harder. The queen-sized bed feels so empty without his partner.
It's another restless night for Sweden. Hana makes for nice company but she knows better to never sleep in his bed. She has her own bed for a reason and he doesn't want to break that habit. On top of the night-table was a simple digital clock, with the ability to play the radio. Sweden left the volume on low to distract him and hopefully allow him to drift off to sleep. But he's already changed the station twice now. The first time happened because the music had switched over to punk rock and it was simply too heavy for the hour of the night. The second time happened when the classical station decided to play something more melancholy with a soft violin, oboe, and piano. It made him miss Finland even more and nearly shed some tears. Sweden had never changed the station so quickly before.
He was currently stuck on a Top 40s station but he was too old for this kind of music and didn't seem to get its appeal. But he hoped the boredom of its sound and lyrics would lull him to sleep.
It had almost worked. That was until a song of loneliness and heartbreak caught his attention. Someone out there was playing a cruel joke on him, he was sure of it.
Frustrated, he slammed his hand against the power button of the clock radio and arose from his bed while putting on his glasses. Dressed in nothing more than a white t-shirt and blue boxers, Sweden grabbed his matching blue housecoat off the vintage coat stand for some extra warmth and slipped on his slippers before he made his way down the stairs and onto the main floor. The lights in the living room were on a dimmer and he left them at a comfortable level—not too low that he couldn't see anything but not bright enough that it would make his eyes uncomfortable. Taking a seat in his usual spot on the sofa, he turned on the television and began flipping through the stations. He wasn't expecting to find much at this hour: the news, some films, and late-night shows were all that were available. He left it on a late-night show with the two hosts chatting up a storm about pop culture. They cracked a few jokes that the audience loved but Sweden didn't understand. Denmark was always the one that was better informed on these topics.
Twenty minutes in, they brought out an actress for an interview, and Sweden didn't know who she was either. But the trailer seemed interesting enough. It appeared to be a mystery thriller and he recognized the scenery as the coffee shop that he took Finland to on a regular basis. For the first time that night, Sweden had cracked a smile.
But the interview was dry and within minutes he found himself getting drowsy. The show seemed to be doing the trick as his eyes grew heavy. The last thing he saw of the interview was a shot of one of the hosts holding an old photograph of the actress dating back to her teen years. Sweden had finally gone to sleep.
The clock had struck midnight. It never rustled him out of his slumber.
At the front door however, it could be heard being unlocked with a key and quietly opened. There was a loud bang when the sound of a heavy bag hit the floor and a masculine voice swore in a foreign tongue. But Sweden was out cold and never heard a thing.
The man shut the door and removed his shoes. Tiny footsteps made the wooden floor creak in some spots as he made his way to the living room. He saw Sweden with his head back into the sofa, lights low, and television blaring. He gave the man a soft grin and walked towards the coffee table. He grabbed the remote and shut off the television. He loomed over Sweden and gently played with his hair before leaning in for a kiss on Sweden's lips.
Bright blue eyes awoke to the sight of warm violet ones. Excitement grew in Sweden's chest. Dreams really did come true.
