#and it does not help that my mum (who has been doing the laundry the past few days) got rlly defensive and snappy abt it

[exopelagic]

actually tiny thing this time that I would just like to complain about so I can go to bed :/

[clubdionysus]

[BAD DECISION #31] The Photo Booth

warnings: THE photoboth chapter!!!! a legend amongst bd readers!!!! we meet jaykays mum (shes the best) and his dad (legend), byeol gets her own back for the 'daddy' debacle, teasing, shameless flirting, a lil dirty talk, jaykay is desperate and whiney (just how we like him!!), precum...swapping?? as much as it can be swapped lmao, jaykay does her glitter ::(((((, a date! between friends!! some would argue!!, photobooths, kissing !!!!, oh god I love them so much, very cute, mmmmmm the way he says goodnight!! or alternatively, the way he doesn't say goodnight!!, our babies are v confused <3 cos they are stewpid <33

wc: 9k

bd total wc: 540k (ongoing)

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

"Mum? Dad?" Jeongguk calls into the entryway of his family home, pushing the door further open with his shoulder.

Your bag is hooked over his broad back, along with his own, Jeongguk not even considering it a favour. Just helps you out in little ways whenever he can, just because he can. You do what you can to make his life easier, and so it's reciprocated without a second thought.

Carrying a bunch of fresh flowers that had hastily been picked up from the shop across the street, you're a little nervous. There was no way you could show up empty-handed, but had been so scatterbrained when you left your place, it had completely slipped your mind. They're pretty pink posies and are something - which is always better than nothing, even if they aren't all that impressive.

"Oh, you're here!" A sweet voice calls from the back of the house. The sound of indoor slippers scuff against the wooden floors, as his mother scurries to greet you both. "I thought you'd call when you were on your way!"

"Sorry," he apologises and leans down to let the bags softly tumble to the floor, before outstretching his arm for a hug. "Left in a bit of a rush."

Squeezing his mother gently, his back eclipses her from your view. Hands patting his back, you think you can tell a lot about a person from their hands - and she's no exception.

Well-manicured, his mum clearly looks after herself. She wears just two rings - her wedding band and engagement ring. Gold. The only remaining elements of her wedding jewellery that had survived the '98 gold drive.

"Spent my whole life in that house," Jeongguk had said of his family home on the journey to Busan. He'd been opening up. Telling you tales that you'd have never heard if you had declined his offer. Is clueing you in on the life that formed him. Wants you to know. "They held onto it throughout everything. The financial crisis, turn of the century, everything. I'm lucky. We were never well-off, but they never let me know when we were struggling."

It explains a lot about who Jeongguk is, you think. Never wants others to shoulder his burdens. Keeps things bottled up until the glass shatters - but you can see through glass. You always know.

A modest three-bed, there's something nostalgic about the four walls he calls home. Though you've never been here, it somehow feels familiar - but that's perhaps more so to do with the scent of laundry drying, and the fact that Jeongguk uses the same fabric conditioner as his mother always has done.

Swanning Jeongguk out of the way, his mother greets you with a smile that could stoke warmth in even the coldest of hearts - and suddenly, you understand exactly where Jeongguk gets it from.

Dark, round eyes, and a smile as radiant as a spring day, she's got the kind of delicate nature bestowed upon Disney princesses. If you were to learn she'd been a model in her youth, you wouldn't be surprised. 

Introducing yourself,  you hold out the flowers for her to take.

"For you," you offer, a little shy and reserved, in a way that Jeongguk doesn't see too often. Your glitter - toned down today, for some reason - sparkles in the late afternoon sun that pours through the windows. "Thank you so much for offering to host me. I really hope it hasn't put you out too much-"

"Oh, don't be silly," she tuts, flipping her hand away as if to emphasise that it really is no big deal. "It's always lovely to have Jeongguk's friends staying with us."

She glances over to Jeongguk. Leans in a little closer. Whispers just loud enough for him to hear. "Plus I'm sure you'll be a far better house guest than Jimin ever is!"

"Mum!" Jeongguk goes to defend his housemate - but he knows his mother adores Jimin. Treats him like a third son. Knows she's creating an alliance with you, given the little lie Jeongguk told about you previously dating Jimin.

"What?!" She plays innocent, and it's suddenly so easy to see why Jeongguk is the way that he is. A product of the people around him, he soaks up their best qualities like a sponge in search of water. His playfulness must come from her. Taking the bunch of flowers, she smiles. "Let's go put these in a vase. You must be hungry."

"Ravenous," Jeongguk confirms, as if he didn't eat half an hour ago. "What's for dinner? And where's dad?"

"At the driving range," she tuts, encouraging you both further into the house.

Large and open plan, the sitting room is adjacent to the kitchen; a space designed for socialisation, it's clear that Jeongguk's parents enjoy hosting. It's no surprise that they agreed to let you stay without hesitation, and is also why Jeongguk had no qualms about asking.

"Minhyuk got a new driver that he wanted to show off, apparently," she continues. "A Titlelist. Got it in some dodgy back alley sale. Your father reckons he's been scammed, but Minhyuk reckons it's the real deal, so I'll guess we'll see."

"Minhyuk lives down the road," Jeongguk explains to you as his mum rummages around in a cupboard to find her favourite vase. He's smiling, amused by it all. "Bit of a busybody. Likes being in people's business, so Dad likes to return the favour. Petty middle-aged man shit."

"Watch your language," his mother scolds. He apologises immediately.

It's sweet, seeing Jeongguk like this. He's always been respectful, even if he does swear like a sailor and has a sense of humour that would send a prude to an early grave.

"As for dinner, I told your father to meet us at the samgyeopsal place you like down by the beach-"

"Ugh," Jeongguk smiles, beaming from ear to ear. "Thank you."

"Don't know why you're thanking me," she hums sweetly as she arranges the flowers in the vase. A little lacklustre while they were still wrapped up, she manages to preen them to look far more beautiful. "You're paying."

"I'm- what?!" He whines, now, taking on the role of youngest son perfectly.

She's just joking, and you all know it - but you also know Jeongguk will likely try and cover the bill regardless. Glancing over to you with a cheeky grin, his mum playfully shrugs her shoulders. You return the smile, and giggle a little harder when Jeongguk continues to whine.

"Oh hush your moaning," she simply says. "Go take your bags through to your rooms. We'll head out in half an hour."

Jeongguk doesn't protest. Drags you along with him back to the entry hall to retrieve the bags.

"See," he says quietly, finding your shyness all rather curious. You're never normally like this. Never so quiet. "Told you there was nothing to worry about. Mum always likes my friends."

Picking up your bag to hoist it over your shoulder, you simply say, "Nerves are natural."

Jeongguk doesn't entirely disagree, but really thinks there's no need for you to feel this way.

"Yeah, if you're meeting, like, a girlfriend's parents," he says. "My parents are nothing to be scared of. Idiot."

"Doesn't matter if I'm not your girlfriend, Gguk. I still want them to like me," you remind him. "And let's be realistic here, parents aren't one for subtleties. You've brought a girl home and have hickies on your neck - I need to touch up the foundation, by the way. If they notice, they're gonna add two and two and get five."

"Well actually," he interjects. "They'll add two and two and get four. You are the girl who gave me them."

You laugh. He's got a point. "But I'm not your girlfriend ."

Yep , he thinks. Thanks for the reminder.

It's not like he even wants that. He knows that things are good as they are. Knows that any indication of things getting serious will likely make you run for the hills.

Things feel easy, now. He doesn't wanna do anything that will complicate it. Won't tell you how he's feeling, 'cause he knows the second it does, things will change.

He doesn't know if it would be for better or for worse, but he knows you. Knows his own lived experiences.

The mistakes made with Hayun have contorted his ability to go with his heart, because he knows the pain it can cause. Will take the nail-biting uncertainty of his feelings for you over the soul-crushing certainty of rejection any day of the week.

You're equally as shaped by your own experiences.

Once had a man who would declare his love for you on a Monday morning before his monthly business trip, only for him to spend the entire week in bed with a girl from the accounting department. You've no trust in words. No trust in anything, really, when it comes to matters of the heart. All you can trust is how you feel - but even that's a little more confusing than usual, these days.

"And thank God for that," Jeongguk teases, which seems to settle the woes within you. He tilts his head to the side and guides you up the hallway. "C'mon. I'll show you to your room."

He deliberately doesn't show you his own room. Will show you later, once he's had the chance to hide away most of the embarrassing stuff he hasn't touched since he was a teenager.

Instead, he leads you straight into his brother's old room, and winces.

"It's worse than I remembered."

Jeongmin's bedroom walls are coated in the Lotte Giants; like an oil slick on the surface of a road, or ice cream dripping down the side of a cone. Unsubtle, garish and impossible to ignore, the man is an interior decor menace.

Flags, shirts, commemorative posters, you name it; Jeongmin has it. You think he must have personally spent enough money to fund an entire season of the KBO.

It's a pretty inoffensive colour scheme - white, blue, red - but it's still an eyesore. The rest of the house is well-decorated. Tasteful. Roses do come with thorns, you consider. Maybe Jeongmin and Jeongguk's rooms qualify for that position.

"So your brother likes football?" You deadpan - although you're sure if there was a Lotte Giants branded football, you'd be able to find one in this room.

Jeongguk just shakes his head. Doesn't even dignify it with a proper response.

"It's a miracle he even managed to get girlfriends during high school. This shit is... I didn't recall there being so much."

Signed baseballs, bobbleheads, foam fingers. God. It's endless. Trading card binders, house slippers, even a rubber duck. It's overwhelming.

"What about now?" You ask of Jeongmin's passion. "Still obsessed?"

"Less so," Jeongguk shrugs. "Did call his dog Seagull, though."

The prospect of a dog being called Seagull has you bursting into laughter. You half think Jeongguk is joking - but quickly realise he isn't. For some reason, that only makes it even funnier.

"Will he be at dinner? Your brother?" You ask, setting your bag down on the freshly made bed. The scent of laundry detergent wafts up, and it reminds you of being back at Jeongguk's place in the city. You've never felt more at home in a stranger's bedroom.

"Why?" Jeongguk asks, narrowing his eyes, remembering what you had said earlier. "You're not allowe-"

"Oh give over," you laugh. "You know I won't."

You've never seen his brother, but already know Jeongguk must be the brother. The one that the girls go crazy over.

Then again, Jeongguk did say that his brother is a fuck boy. Perhaps he's just as handsome.

Impossible .

Thing is, Jeongguk doesn't know you won't go for his brother. You made threats earlier. Knows he ignited a fire in you the second he pulled the 'Daddy' stunt. Knows you're competitive. Regrets it a little bit now. Only has himself to blame.

"Anyway, piss off," you playfully tell him. "I wanna get changed."

Jeongguk doesn't care. Takes a seat by his brother's desk, instead. Smirks. Raises his brows in that promiscuous, boyish way that always disrupts the butterflies who peacefully rest in your diaphragm. "Okay. Get changed."

"Gguk," you deadpan. He's pushing his luck, and he knows it. Glances over to the door. It's ajar, but pushed shut enough to obscure any unwanted eyes. Just means he needs to keep his deep voice quiet.

"What?" He flirts. "Nothing I haven't seen before."

"Your mum is down the hallway!" You whisper-shriek. Sometimes you forget how much of a boy Jeongguk is, and then he pulls shit like this.

The worst part?

You love it when he's like this; all cheeky and brazen, audacious in his quest to get what he wants.

And when it's you that he wants? Oh, it gets you all hot under the collar. He has that effect on people, you think. It can't just be you.

"So?" He licks his lips. Rakes his eyes down your body. Looks fucking hungry - and to him, you look like a 5-course meal he'd gladly get on his knees and beg for. "She's not gonna come in."

His lips press down against one another, tightly. His lip ring does the thing. You whine.

"Gguk."

"Byeol." He teases. "It's not like you're getting naked. Not like we'd be doing anything. Seen you in your underwear so many times."

He'd like to know that he still can. Wants to know he hasn't fucked it all up by getting you a little vulnerable earlier.

"Maybe I am getting naked," you whisper back, feeling challenged now.

"Are you?"

"Should I?" You tease. He sits up a little straighter. Tries to be subtle as his hand drops between his legs, the heel of his palm pressing against himself. Fails. You know he's adjusting himself. Know that it means he's getting a little excited.

"Think if you need to, then you should," he simply replies. "Just a little revision of a bird, no? Nakedness ? It'd be good."

You don't need to get fully undressed. Not in the slightest - and you're not gonna.

In fact, Jeongguk isn't gonna see anything - but you're still gonna fuck with him a little first. He deserves it after this morning.

You turn away from him. Shrug the jacket off your shoulders. Toss it onto the bed. Open up your bag, and have a little dig around.

"I'm not sure what to wear," you hum, sounding a little defeated. It's intentional. Want him to think you're being genuine.

Turning to face him, you hold lingerie in either hand. Packed deliberately just to fuck with him. Had figured you'd wear it discreetly, letting him know as and when he deserved to know. Would use it to wind him up - and not to give him any satisfaction. He's right in thinking he's ignited a little competition in you.

Didn't realise you'd take him to war, instead.

He's not seen you in either of these. Has never really seen you in your 'nice' stuff. All of your underwear is nice to a certain extent, because you're intentional with your purchases. Like feeling good beneath even a pair of sweats.

However, Jeongguk has only ever been treated to matching sets.

After all, you've never tried to seduce him. He's your friend. You fuck each other, sure, but it's cause it's comfortable. Safe.

The lace in your hand is far too exciting for your established arrangement.

In your left hand is a lace bodysuit. Mesh panels make up the structure, but it's the ornate, hand-sewn lace that really makes it beautiful. The neckline is fairly high, so sometimes you get away with wearing it at a top on nights out. Been a while since you went that risque.

In your right hand, it's a classic black garter belt. Jeongguk has no idea what the fuck they're called, just knows he likes them.

He swallows. Licks his lips. Doesn't know where to focus his eyes. Barely realises he's gripping himself now. Is so fucking hard.

"Which is your favourite?" You ask, eyes innocent, voice nonchalant.

Jeongguk thinks he'll die if you wear either.

"Both are fine," he manages to say, eventually.

"Fine isn't good," you pout.

"Well what do you want me to say, B?" He whispers, clearly a little frustrated. Not with you. With himself . "That as soon as you put them on, I'll wanna take them off you? They're fuckin' hot. Both of them. Fuck ."

He tilts his head back. Whines a little. Moans. "Why do I do this to myself?"

"Think you might be a masochist," you giggle now, tossing the lingerie back down by your bag. Will save it for later. Poor boy is going through it. "You did this to yourself."

He looks at you with a huff and a frown that is far too sweet for the situation at hand.

"I'm stupid," he pouts. "Pea brain. You're the one with a big brain. You should tell me to stop doing pea brain things."

"You wouldn't listen to me even if I did," you smile fondly as you walk towards him - 'cause even if it looks like he's admitting defeat, you don't trust him yet. His cock is too hard to be making sensible choices.

Coming to a stop between his legs, you don't stop Jeongguk when his large hands stroke up the backs of your thighs. Your own hands are toying with his hair. It's all very amorous; affectionate despite the allure.

"You don't know that," he whispers, still. Cupping his strong jaw, you tilt his head upwards. Your hair is still up from earlier, and he regrets it now. Always loves it when your hair tumbles around his face. Likes being consumed by the entity of you. The scent of your shampoo, the softness of your well-conditioned hair. Heaven.

"You made a bad decision this morning," you remind him. "Would have done it even if I told you it was a bad decision."

Regretfully, Jeongguk thinks this is true. That instant gratification of his ' Daddy' stunt made it worth it.

Worth it at the time, at least.

He's not so sure, now.

Sinking to your knees, your hands stroke up his thighs. Jeongguk looks down at you, tongue wetting his lips. There's a change in his breathing. Anticipation.

"You know," you say quietly, making sure no sound travels at all. You're not looking to get kicked out of Jeongguk's house within an hour of being invited in. Looking directly at his hard crotch as your hands squeeze his thighs, you simper. "I really thought you were gonna take charge this morning. Thought you were gonna get me where you wanted me."

"Yeah?" he husks, pulling on his shirt, releasing it from the belt around his waist. Lifts it a little. Gets his abs out. Is doing shit he knows will make you salivate. One of your hands follows his encouragement and pushes up his chest. Hard beneath your warm hand, his body really is a gift from the gods.

"Yeah," you tease.

"What did you think, huh?" He says, his hand cupping your cheek to raise your gaze to his. It'd embarrass you, if it were anyone else; but for some reason, you don't mind worshipping Jeongguk unabashedly. Are on your knees like his body is your alter. Whisper words of sin like you're in a confessional. Pray that you'll never have to give this up. Religion is wasted on you, and Jeongguk is a false God, but you've never felt more holy than when you're committing cardinal sins with him. "Where was I gonna get you?"

Smiling in that coy way you so often do whenever he gets you a little vocal, your eyes rake back down his body.

"Right here," you shrug. Give him those eyes; the ones that make Jeongguk think he's seeing fucking stars. Smirk, before you say, "thought you were gonna get your cock in my mouth."

"Shit," he curses as you press down over the hard ridge in his pants. He's always so pleased to see you - especially like this. "You want that, huh? Wanna suck on it?"

Nodding, you bite on the lip, sin written in the constellations Jeongguk's gazing at. "Wanna make you feel good, Koo."

If Jeongguk doesn't get his cock in your mouth within the next minute, he's pretty sure he'll die. Has wanted it for weeks. Months . Wants you in any capacity he can get you, granted, but there are few things in life better than a good blow job. Good pussy, is, admittedly one of those things, but he already knows you have that. Thinks your mouth must be just as good.

His hands drop to his belt. Metal clangs as he races to get it undone. You let him. Don't stop. Watch on with sated pleasure as he hurries. Undoes his buttons, and then his zipper is down, too. His Calvins are on display. There's a teeny tiny damp mark showing through; evidence of how badly he wants you. "We don't have long. Be quick, B. Gonna nut so fuckin' fast."

Smirking, there's something so painfully endearing about how needy Jeongguk is as he untucks himself from his boxers. Thick and firm, his cock is just as pretty as it always is whenever he's desperate for you. The little bead of precum pooling at his tip is begging for your tongue, the freckle on his shaft deserving of a pretty little kiss.

And then you pull back. Look at his pretty, needy face and raise a brow. Poor baby .

"Said I wanna make you feel good," you smirk. "Not that I will."

You get to your feet. Walk away. Giggle to yourself as Jeongguk fucking whines as quietly as he can. Needs that door closed. Needs you to know that this balling is gonna kill him off. Head thrown back, cock in his hand, he's gonna fucking die .

"B," he growls a little, faux sobs echoing from his throat.

"What?" You smile. He looks like a fucking state, desire taking hold of the way he's staring you out, chest heaving a little bit. And then, to add insult to injury, you remember to 'address him properly'. "Something wrong, Daddy ?"

His face bunches up. Regret embeds itself into the lines on his face. He whines. "You're so mean, Disco Ball."

He's cute. Really fucking cute.

It makes you feel bad.

And fuck, you want him.

Seeing him like this gets you all sorts of fucked up - but he deserves it.

He watches you cautiously as you walk a little closer.

You crouch between his legs this time, instead of getting down on your knees. Replace his hand with yours. Have missed how it feels to have him in your grip.

Eyes on his, you watch as his chest begins to beat a little fast. His lips are ajar. Eyes forlorn, he's desperate . His cock twitches in your hand, so you tighten your fingers. A hushed moan lets you know he likes this. Likes every fucking thing about it.

Licking your lips, you position yourself a little better. Glance down. Think it's a miracle you haven't given him head yet. Have never wanted to choke on a cock more - cause what are friends for, if not that?

"I'm not mean," you whisper. You drag your wet tongue across the tiny slit that is fucking oozing for you. It takes everything in you not to give into what you want. "I'm so nice to you, Koo."

You've got a point to prove, though. Ease your grip. Stand. Replace the now empty space in your hand with his chin between your thumb and index finger, grasping onto it as you tilt him upwards.

You hold your tongue out, encouraging him to do the same - and without even a second fucking thought, he does it.

Eyes wide, Jeongguk wants this. Want you. Wants your tongue on his.

And what Jeongguk wants?

Well, eventually , he always gets it.

Your tongue swipes against his; traces of his own precum sinking onto his tongue, masking the taste of you.

He wants more.

Wants you to do it again. Wants to taste you. Wants you to sit on his lap, tongue in his mouth. Wants to be too fucking busy with his lips to remember how to breathe.

And, like always, he will get it - just not now.

Eventually, yes.

Immediately, no.

"You're gonna fuckin' kill me one day, B," he whines as you walk away from him again.

"Good," you smile, talking at full volume now. Playtime is over.

You do, however, take off your shirt, and let him watch. All he can see is your back, but even that drives him insane. He can't remember the last time he was this worked up without any indication of a release. He's been horny all fucking day.

Pulling a fresh shirt over your head, you're a little sad to see he's tucked himself away when you turn around again.

"Go get ready," you say fondly. "We don't have long."

Jeongguk is pouting. A crease between his brows, he looks hard done by.

" So mean."

His stroppy demeanour makes you laugh. It's so classically him. A Ggukism, if you ever did see one.

"That's what you get for making me call you Daddy," you say quietly. Find it funny how much of a baby he's being - and consider that maybe he's the one that is better suited to the nickname.

He whines again. Louder this time. You glance to the door. Make sure you're still without disturbance.

You want to call him baby.

Just because it works, and it's funny, and - fuck it - maybe it'd be nice.

But it would also be a step too far, you think.

"Shush," you say affectionately, not accenting your command with 'baby' like you really want to. Instead, you walk over to him and cover his mouth with your palm. "What if someone hears you whining, huh? I don't wanna have to tell your mum you've just been tasting your own cum in your brother's bedroom, do you?"

"You're so fucked up," he wails, feeling incredibly hard done by. He needs to learn how to resist you. Never wants to have to endure this again.

"We're so fucked up," you correct. "I wouldn't be so mean to anyone else - but you deserved it."

He can't even argue against it. He knows that this is a product of his own creation.

"Go, get yourself sorted out," you encourage him along. "We don't have long."

He nods. Sighs. Gets to his feet, and does his trousers back up. Is convinced he'll die before your trip to Busan finishes if this is the game you're playing.

Leaving you to get ready (and to let his raging boner die, even if he won't) Jeongguk returns within 15 minutes. He's nonchalant, as if what happened the last time he was in the room was simply a fragment of your own imagination.

You're sitting by the floor-length mirror (which is, of course, adorned in Lotte Giants memorabilia), doing your makeup. Hair claw-clipped now, Jeongguk is a little sad to see your space buns go, but understands why. You seem to be a little more demure than usual.

He nudges his knee against your back, gentle in how he touches you, your body swaying ever so slightly.

"Don't," you smile, pulling the liquid glitter away from your face. "I'll get it in my eye."

There's an innuendo to be made there, but Jeongguk knows better. Just smirks. Plonks himself down next to you; cross-legged, knees up, arms hugging around them. He looks like a condensed version of himself like this, sitting as close to you as he possibly can just so he can see himself in the mirror.

"Little disco ball," he says fondly, watching you dab the glitter onto the inner corners of your eyes. It's not something he often calls you these days, but there's something about hearing the name now that makes you smile.

"Strange, isn't it?" You muse. "This time last year I was just disco-ballin' in your club. Didn't even know your name."

He nods. Smiles. "And now you're in my brother's bedroom turning yourself into a disco ball."

"Funny little lives, we live," you muse fondly. How far you've both come. If it wasn't for the glitter, you don't think you'd recognise yourself.

"Would you have ever predicted it?" he asks. Knows he was intrigued by you from the very moment he first saw you. Has no idea what you thought of him. Wonders if you had 'what if' thoughts about him. Who he was. Who he could be. What you could become. "That you'd end up here?"

"Honestly? Sorta wanted to curl up and die after you found me in your living room."

The memories are a little hazy, but you still remember the look on Jeongguk's sleepy face in the early morning sun that was intruding on his living room at the time.

Jeongguk nods. Smiles. Remembers it far better than you do. "Yeah, wasn't your finest hour."

You turn to look at him, chin resting on your shoulder. There's a glow about you now that Jeongguk can't seem to get enough of. Wants to drink you in like purple starfuckers at 2am in the heat of full-capacity Dionysus nights.

"I mean, I don't know," you say with a small shrug. "How often do you become friends with your punters?"

"Not often," he admits. "How often do you become friends with your bartenders?"

You're coy as you smile. "Not often."

Not ever, actually.

Yeonjun doesn't count - you've never spent any time with him sober, even if you do always enjoy seeing him behind the bar. Even then, it doesn't compare to the way you seem to light up whenever Jeongguk is serving your drinks.

Jeongguk's the first. The only.

Taking the liquid glitter from your hands, Jeongguk scoots a little closer. Gets more product on the wand, and sets the tube down beside him. Pinches your chin between his index finger and thumb.

There's no opposition from you; just a silent acceptance of Jeongguk dictating your movements. Lips parting as he draws a little closer, there's apprehension to the way your eyes flicker between his own pair and his lips.

Jeongguk is pleased, but tries not to let it show. Fights his smile. Battles the inner voices telling him that kissing you would be a good idea.

Breath hitched as his dark eyes survey your face, you're regretful of the way your body responds to him. Friendship tainted by desire; a natural by-product of fucking someone you really care about, you think.

It's no secret that you adore each other, but doesn't everyone feel so fondly about their best friends?

He's slow as he dabs the end of the wand against your cheek, following around the curve of your eye socket. Jeongguk always thinks you look so pretty when you highlight yourself with glitter there. It catches the light so easily that he always notices it. Might have even been the first glitter of yours that he notices in the dreary lights of Dionysus, the hedonistic haze of neon lights and dark shadows creating the disco ball effect he likes so much.

"There," he says quietly as he finishes evening it out. "Pretty little star."

"Careful," you say back just as quietly. "You'll give me an ego."

"Just returning the favour," he jokes, screwing the wand back into the tube, his hands working quickly. "The Daddy thing really did a number on my ego this morning."

Rolling your sparkly eyes, you gently push him away.

"Fuck off, Jeon," you playfully reprimand him for mentioning it again, getting to your feet. Smoothing out your clothes as you check yourself over in the mirror, you're pleased to see that Jeongguk has applied your glitter just the way you like it. Dabbing it out slightly, your heart swells a little with how attentive he is.

Still sitting exactly where he was, Jeongguk strokes up the inside of your leg. It's all very innocent. Just touching you 'cause he likes the comfort that comes with it. You're in sheer tights, there's a softness to them that Jeongguk likes. He tries to forget the garter belt you were holding earlier. Doesn't think you'd wear it out for dinner with his parents.

He's right.

No matter how hot it might be working him up in public, you're not about to go and do it in front of his parents . You have some morals at least, even if Jeongguk does make you momentarily forget about them from time to time.

Reaching down, you scratch his hair a little, just behind his ear. Eyes closed, he leans into your touch like a little puppy dog. So docile and devoted. Cute.

"C'mon," you encourage him, but remain fixed in position. Head versus heart. Wanna stay right where you are in the cocoon of Jeongguk's family home with him, but know you have places to be. "Shouldn't keep your mum waiting."

He nods, head resting against your leg. Sighs. "Yeah. You're right. Let's go."

You offer him a hand up, of which he gladly takes. Checks himself over in the mirror. Is still wearing the outfit he drove in. Considered changing, but he's aware of the way the girls at the service station were ogling him earlier. Knows the outfit probably has something to do with it.

He doesn't mention the change of your outfit; the fact that you're wearing a white shirt too, now. It's tucked into a little black skirt, he's certain you're probably gonna wear those slightly worn out Converse of yours - and he intends on doing the exact same.

"C'mon, kids!" Jeongguk's mum calls up the corridor, echoing your thoughts about needing to leave.

It's nice, you think, to be grouped with Jeongguk in such a way. Makes you feel like this is the way it's always been. Doesn't matter if you're in your twenties, and Jeongguk's mum met you an hour ago. There's an acceptance of you; of your place in her son's life.

He glances over at you, scrunching his nose a little. Is a little awkward. Likes the idea of you being part of his life since childhood. Is sad it'll never be the case.

"You heard her. Let's go."

Ushering you back down the hallway, a hand on top of your shoulder, thumb rubbing the nape of your neck, there's a casual intimacy to the way Jeongguk always finds an excuse to touch you.

It's not scary, nor daunting in the way that you always deem intimacy to be, but it is something . Gets you feeling a little flustered. Has you wriggling out of his grip with a laugh, as if he was tickling you.

"Stop annoying the poor girl," his mother scolds fondly as you come into her line of vision, which just simply earns another protest from Jeongguk.

"She's the annoying one."

You scoff. "That's rich coming from you."

It's all in good humour, and his mother appreciates this. Likes seeing Jeongguk goof around, especially knowing how stressed he's been lately. Has barely called. Missed his father's birthday to study.

All she wants is for her children to live happy, fulfilled lives, and if there's one thing to be noted about Jeongguk's current demeanour, it's that he's undoubtedly happy.

Whether or not that has anything to do with you, she doesn't know - but she wasn't born yesterday. His desire to visit home is understandable after the pressure of his studies. He needs rest - and somehow, he factors you into that rest.

Of her two children, Jeongguk's always been the more introverted one. He needs his time to recharge. Would be the life and soul of the party at school, then come home and remain silent until dinner time.

For a few years, it bothered her. Thought that maybe Jeongguk was unhappy at home - but it was quite the opposite. It's his safe space.

And now he's bringing you into it.

"Is the room okay?" she asks you, knowing that the sheer amount of baseball memorabilia in Jeongmin's room is... a lot to take in. "Interior decoration was always more of Jeongguk's speciality. Had Jimin to give him pointers. Jeongmin... Well, he had an acquired taste... As you've probably already gathered."

Laughing a little, you nod. "It's grand. Thank you for letting me stay. I really appreciate it - and I grew up with a Lions-loving Dad. I'm used to it."

"Ohh," his mother winces, then addresses Jeongguk. "Keep this one away from Jeongmin."

You also turn behind you now, raising a brow. He's just rolling his eyes, a soft smile on his lips.

"Samsung Lions - and their fans - are the scum of the earth in Jeongmin's eyes," he explains, then looks over to his mum. "Is he coming to dinner? Do we need to sit them at opposite ends of the table?"

Shaking her head, she laughs. "No, he's got plans, apparently. I did tell him you were visiting, but you know what he's like."

Jeongguk just sort of accepts this answer. Nods. Shrugs his shoulders, as if it's to be expected. An air of disappointment clouds around Jeongguk, lips pursed, eyes stern.

He and his brother are cut from the same cloth, but have been sewn together with different stitches. For all their similarities, they have stark differences, too. This one has always been the most challenging for Jeongguk; how little his brother seems to care about maintaining a good relationship.

Jeongmin seems to think their status as brothers is enough to keep the bond strong. Doesn't seem to care about fostering an actual friendship with him.

It's part of the reason why Jeongguk is so reluctant to let go of friendships that no longer serve him. They're filling a void. He never wants to be the one who gives up. Doesn't wanna be the reason things fall apart.

"Alright," Jeongguk's mother smiles at you both. "Ready to go?"

It surprises you that she's the one driving to dinner instead of Jeongguk - but it makes sense, given the fact you and Jeongguk will stay in the area afterwards.

She insists that you sit up front, even if all forms of hierarchy would dictate that Jeongguk should be there instead. He doesn't complain. Sort of likes how you and his mum are ganging up on him like a little team.

When you arrive at the samgyeopsal place, his father is already waiting.

He's everything you expect him to be: funny, a little dramatic, and the spitting image of Jeongguk, just with a few more grey hairs and even deeper creases beneath his eyes. Introduces himself with as much gusto as a cartoon character; full of life and pleased to have another person to relay all of Minhyuk's misdemeanours to.

You learn more about the Busan Driving Range circuit than you ever could have predicted - specifically about Minhyuk, the legitimacy of his 'bargain' driver, and how Jeongguk's father is convinced he's been tampering with his balls.

Jeongguk chokes on his drink when his dad mentions that last point. Earns himself a talking to for thinking with such a dirty mind - but after a few drinks, his parents are giggling about it, too.

There's something incredibly easy about being around Jeongguk's parents. It's no wonder he's grown into the person he is.

You feel a little shy. Don't understand the in-jokes at first - but someone always explains them to you. Normally Jeongguk, but sometimes his mother. Never his father, 'cause he'll go on a twenty minute long tangent explaining the lore and the back story. They've learnt this the hard way.

Still, he's a dab hand when it comes to grilling the meat. Takes charge of it all. Plates his wife up first, always. You second, Jeongguk third, and then himself. Head of the house, he takes his place in the hierarchy seriously, but not at the expense of the ones he loves. Will make sure they're provided for first.

Jeongguk is much the same. In charge of refilling the soju and beer, he'll pour for his father first, then mother, then you. Puts the bottle down before he fills his own, which is when you step up and fill his glass. He'll nudge with you his knee beneath the table to make you wobble, but never enough to make you spill it.

Subscribing to drinking norms is something that you never really do with Jeongguk. He's a bartender, after all. Things are always a little unconventional. He's normally the one making you drinks and sorting himself out, too.

Something about this feels incredibly domesticated. Natural. Pleasant.

By the time dinner is done, Jeongguk's parents have to order a taxi. Had a little too much to drink- but you're bloody glad for it. Made it a lot easier for you.

"Your parents are fun," you beam, walking down the promenade of Gwangalli with Jeongguk. It's your favourite of all the busy beaches in the city, but you rarely ever get the chance to see it after dark. There'll be a drone show, soon. You've definitely never seen that. Can't wait for it.

"They sure are something," he laughs, a little embarrassed. They have big personalities, which he's glad of, but he knows they can be a bit much sometimes. "Dad drinks well, so we probably had a bit more than we should have done. Sorry."

Shaking your head, you don't mind in the slightest. Are at that giddy stage of drinking, where everything seems marvellous, and bad decisions cosplay as good choices.

"Are you forgetting how we met? I don't mind having one too many, Gguk."

"True," he agrees, checking the time on his phone. Still a good half an hour before the small show. It's just a free thing that the city council puts on every night, not a huge deal to him anymore, but he understands why people romanticise it. Knows that you have to see it.

Tugging on your hand, Jeongguk checks the road before he crosses, dragging you along with him.

"Hm?" You squeak, taken by surprise. A little tipsy, your reflexes aren't as fast as usual, just like tipsy Jeongguk isn't as good at voicing his thought processes as sober Jeongguk usually is.

"Photos," he simply states, leading you into a small retail unit that houses only photo booths.

It's the standard set-up: wall partitions between self-timer camera units, and curtains instead of doors to the small spaces. Each booth has a different colour background, adding to their own individual charms. The walls of the entryway are lined in discarded pictures; friendship groups, couples, first dates, anniversaries, birthdays. Life events, big and small. Moments of time captured to last forever.

Accessories and props are abundant in the entry area - hats, glasses, wigs, signs. Your favourites are always the headbands. Kitty ears, normally, though sometimes you branch out into bunny ears if you're feeling fancy.

There are five booths in total along the back wall, but one in particular grabs your attention: the one advertising Sanrio-themed frames instead of the standard solid colour outline.

"Oh my god," you gasp, and then it's Jeongguk's turn to squeak with confusion. You point to it. Specifically, to the My Melody and Kuromi figures by the bottom of the ad. "It's us."

He smiles. Doesn't really understand your hyper fixation. Agrees nonetheless. "It is us."

The pair of you goof around, picking props. Jeongguk learns that you find him in any sort of animal ears absolutely hilarious, but the second he puts on a yacht captain's hat?

"Take that off right this second," you tell him, voice stern, eyes wide.

He's bemused. Snorts a little. Teeth on show, he's dangerously pretty. So handsome and yet such a little shit. "Why? Like it?"

You turn your nose up. "Hate it."

"I know you're lying," he laughs. Tilts it down. "Is this getting you all hot, B?"

"I'm leaving," you say, because it's so much easier than saying yes.

Something about him in a white shirt, with that hat? White with a navy peak, gold embroidery on the sides? God, you see why the old money girlies like boatmen so much. Decide that you're never getting on a boat with Jeongguk if you want to retain your sanity.

He takes it off. You don't even realise it, but you pout.

"You're so confusing, Byeol," he says as he playfully puts it on your head - and then he's feeling all fucked up too.

Something about a captain's hat. Just really does the trick.

You've both had too much to drink. There's no reason for you both to be getting flustered because of a stupid hat and yet -

"I don't think we should ever touch hats again," Jeongguk says very quickly.

But then you put a pair of kitty ears on and he starts questioning whether or not furries are actually kinda onto something.

He furrows his brows. Picks up a pair of ears. Bunny ones. Black. They're satin and a little too sexy, he thinks, but he's gotta see himself in them.

And when he does?

He kinda gets why girls dress up like cute animals for fancy dress parties. Doesn't wanna blow his own trumpet - but shit. He does look cute.

"Oh my god, YES," you exclaim when you clock his new attire, and quite literally drag him to the booth. He gets no say in the matter, and honestly doesn't care. Is having too much fun with you to take any of this seriously.

You pick the Sanrio framed booth, because of course you do. Jeongguk pops his card in the slot, and lets you click through on the options that you want - 4cut, vertical frame. The classic style. Your favourite.

Turning to Jeongguk, you tweak his glasses a little. Can't decide if they look better hiked up, or further down his perfectly sloped nose.

All Jeongguk can think about is your nose, and much he wants to nudge his up against yours.

And so he does just that.

Doesn't give a fuck.

The camera flashes.

You're caught, forevermore, in your state of Jeongguk-induced hypnosis. The pictures will survive beyond you. Will be stored in boxes to be looked at once, maybe twice by future generations.

One day, no one will know the name of you nor the boy you're with. They won't know how the scent of his aftershave lingers, nor the way your soft exhale of air sounds as you smile. Your present will be lost to history, this photograph? Your legacy.

Nothing will be known of you, and yet this picture alone will tell them everything they need to know.

"We're gonna waste shots," you whisper. The booth takes six photos, but you'll only be allowed to choose four for the printed picture at the end.

The more to choose from, the better.

"So?" Jeongguk smirks. Holds your neck just beneath your jaw. Strokes across your cheek with his thumb. Looks at you with sparkly eyes and a boyish smile that is just begging to be kissed. "Don't you wanna see what it looks like when we kiss?"

"It's intimate," you remind him.

"Maybe - but it's also fun," he reminds you.

The camera flashes again. That's two shots wasted, now.

If you let this carry on, it'll be three, and then one of them will have to be used in the final print.

And yet as Jeongguk nudges against your nose a little deeper, you let him.

When his lips ghost yours, you let him.

When his lips press down, you let him.

You'll let the third photo be taken, because you'll be too busy kissing him back to pay attention.

The fourth, too.

Lips on yours, Jeongguk kisses you in a way that he hasn't done before. It's delicate, and gentle, but his lips are strong. Intentional. There's no intrusion of tongue, no fervent need to get you moaning, even though it feels like you will regardless.

Your brain screams at you. Something about rules, and breaking them.

You ignore it.

'Cause all you can think about is the way this feels.

You don't think you've ever had a kiss like it.

And it's terrifying.

It's not until the fifth shot flashes that you both pull away; smiles smitten, eyes glossy. Both of you felt that. Ain't no way he couldn't have.

You think that maybe that's even more terrifying.

And so for the sixth shot?

Both of you pretend to throw up, disgust plaguing your giggly smiles and blushed cheeks.

There's distance between you, but as soon as the camera flashes, Jeongguk is pulling you back to his side again. It's just so that you're both ready to look through the pictures that are about to pop up on the little touchscreen. He's being helpful. Glances down at you, and has to stop himself from pressing a kiss into your hair.

Things are just so easy with you.

As soon as the pictures load, you're laughing. "We have to retake these."

"No, no, no," he swats your hand away, then taps on one of the photos, adding it to the preview frame. "My jaw looks really good in this one."

It's shot number four. Mid kiss. His hands on your cheeks, yours out of frame because they were on his waist. His jaw really does look fantastic - but it's sort of devastating when you realise just how happy he looks. He's smiling into the kiss. The most devastating thing of all?

So are you.

"How is that even us," you giggle. Seems so bizarre to see yourself like this.

"Gross isn't it," he smiles, adding more of the pictures to the frame, but you're the one correcting him now, tapping his hand to move him out of your way.

"We need them in order," you say. "A chain of events."

Eventually, the order is settled: the nudging of noses, the innocence of a kiss with the sin of Jeongguk's sharp jaw, the slightly startled look in both of your eyes as you'd pulled away, and then, of course, both of you pretending to vomit.

As they print, you pick out props for the next set of photos - Jeongguk in a pair of purple heart-shaped glasses and a Kuromi headband, you in that damn sailor's hat - and discuss which poses to actually do. This time round, it's all peace signs and finger hearts; goofy angles too close to the camera and a little laughter to set the tone.

"C'mon," Jeongguk says softly as you finish sliding the pictures into the thin plastic sleeves next to the booths. He normally doesn't bother with them. Likes that you seem to care about preserving the integrity of your memories. Hand outstretched, he encourages you to take it.

"Your bird," he says. "Said we'd do it in Busan."

The look you give him is coy, eyes a little sultry, lips a little pouty.

When you're silent, Jeongguk laughs. "Hold my hand, B."

"Getting a little date-like, don't you think?" You say of the night, but Jeongguk just shrugs.

"So? We'll just call it practise."

"Mhhm," he nods, shaking his hand a little because you still haven't held it. He's impatient. It's only as you take his hand that he begins talking again. "You don't wanna go back into the dating world unprepared. What if Mr Mechanical Engineer tries to hold your hand without you being ready for it?" He squeezes your hand, leading you out the door. "Let's get you used to it."

The mention of Seojoon makes you feel guilty. About him? About Jeongguk? You're not sure. It's something you need to figure out. Something you need to figure out fast .

And yet as Jeongguk holds both yours and his shoes in one hand, your hand firmly secured in the other, you choose not to think about it.

Just think of the sand, and how it will be a bitch to get out of your tights. It's sort of like your glitter, in a way.

But just like Jeongguk wouldn't trade your glitter for anything, you wouldn't trade this moment for anything either.

Neither of you say much. Just listen to the waves rolling in. Listen to other people's conversations. Listen to the whir of the drones as they start up and get into position. The show begins. Won't last longer than ten minutes. The silence is comfortable.

He holds your hand, and you move them to your lap in a bid to keep them warm.

Jeongguk isn't really feeling the cold. His heart is simply burning too brightly.

"I'm really glad you're here," he says as the show draws to a close.

"Me too," you whisper back fondly. "It must be nice to be home."

"Well, you know they say," he muses. "Home is where the heart is, and all that."

Been at home for months, B.

You breathe through your nose, exhaling a sincere smile. Could say a million things. Could say nothing at all. Could ask what he means, but you're taking it at face value. Genuinely think he's just happy to be home.

"We should visit more often," you suggest.

"I'd like that," he nods as he squeezes your hand. "You wanna go explore the night markets?"

Grinning, you get to your feet immediately. "Thought you'd never ask."

Jeongguk leads the way. Shows you his old haunts. Gets you hotteok from his favourite stand down by the promenade. Shows you the arcade machine he once spunked away 50,000 won on and didn't even win a prize. Shows you the initials he and Jimin caved into a pavement curb fourteen years ago. Took them hours. Both got blisters. Worth it though. They're embedded in the city, forevermore.

He takes you down memory lane, and you find it's your favourite street to visit with Jeongguk. You love his history; learning what shaped him. Who shaped him. Where.

Not once does Jeongguk let go of your hand.

Not down the markets, not along the beach, not in the taxi home, even when he doses off for a moment, head resting on your shoulder.

Not once. Not until you're both home, and he's saying goodnight outside of his brother's bedroom door. He's still toying with your fingers. Isn't even gonna suggest the idea of doing things you know you shouldn't.

Doesn't wanna taint the night.

In the morning, he'll blame all of his bad decisions on the alcohol. Will say he was tipsy, even though you stopped drinking hours ago.

He hugs you goodnight. Lingers a little too long. Too close. Nudges his nose against yours. Brushes his thumb against your cheek.

"This..." he whispers. "This is what it should be like."

His jaw tenses. He holds himself back from pressing his lips against yours like he so desperately wants to. Knows he's already said too much. Pulls himself away from you, to press a kiss against your forehead.

His lip ring is so hard, and his lips so soft, that it makes you feel all sorts of fucked up.

The most fucked up thing of all?

How badly you want his lips on yours.

But then he fucking walks away .

Closes his door. Shuts you out.

The evening had been so simple. So straightforward. Casual. Nothing confusing in the slightest. You were happy. So was he.

And yet as you lie in bed, all that rattles around in your head for hours on end is the question: what the fuck is happening to us?

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

[rreskk]

I just thought about something with drama (love drama 😏) Imagine Reader who's confronting Trevor's mother (I don't remember her name) without Trevor. BUT Trevor came home when Reader slapped the mother and insulted her because she abandonned Trevor. Trevor's mother trying to make Reader look like the bad girl by saying she's crazy, attacked her for no reason and Trevor has to protect her from Reader? Trevor's gonna protect her mother, do nothing or take the side of Reader ?

---A/N: Heyyyyyyyyyy, I made Trevor do nothing. I tried to be realistic, basing it from his reaction to the 'Mrs Philips' mission.

Summary: Betty came to visit.

TW: -Implied child abuse.

You were rightfully cleaning up your laundry in Trevor’s trailer. While unloading the stacks upon the kitchen counter, the door opened. You automatically thought it was Trevor, proceeding to turn around with a smile. Until it dropped.

The woman seemed to look at you the same. Both staring a each other. She had red curly hair, droopy cheeks and awful makeup. She wore clothes that were obviously dated back to the 70s… Yet she stood with unlimited confidence.

“Can I help you?” Steadily eyeing up her every move, you spoke.

“Where’s Trevor? And who are you?”

“Trevor’s out… I’m his partner.”

She scoffed, “Partner? No chance, my love. He’s probably drugged you.”

There was appalling amounts of shade in her words. You took a step back in offence.

“Who are you?”

The woman was silent for a moment. She spent another second observing the trailer before pointing to herself.

“I’m his mother.” She said in a soft tone, sugar-coating the title of being a mother to gaslight you. The way her eyes furrowed in pity and innocence. You weren’t fazed.

Instead, you were angry. Trevor spoke about the trauma this woman gave him. The neglect, verbal abuse, abandonment… And now she stood in his living room. You were lucky he wasn’t here. You hoped he’ll turn up after she’s gone.

“I’ve heard of you. Betty Philips. Trevor told me. It’s nice of you to show up… 10 years later, without a damn word.” You backhandedly foretold with a scowl.

She flinched at your words like flint and steel. Betty lifted her stuck-up nose and ignored your truthful insults.

“Why should I listen to a random person I’ve never met before. I doubt you even know the boy. He couldn’t possibly find himself a lover.”

You chuckled, “You’re funny, Betty. This random person has been with Trevor long enough to know your games. He may not know, but I do. You ram your tongue and boss him around. You manipulate him through insults and neglection. You get your own way by giving him the cold shoulder. If you were ashamed of who he is today, damn right it’s all your fault.”

Betty inhaled sharply and held a massive grudge. Her eye twitched, something Trevor had inherited whenever he felt enraged. You stood your ground though and kept great eye contact with the woman as she took a step forward.

“What did you just say to me?” She hissed.

Muted due to her stealth, you kept a close attention to her. Trevor mentioned this type of behaviour before. She acts like she’s about to physical hurt you but don’t. She makes you think she will.

“How DARE you say that to me. How DARE you speak for my son. He is not here and I kindly reject your filthy manner!”

You breathed out painfully and smirked, “Now you know how it feels.”

Betty, in spite of her rage, began raising a finger to your face. Her polished nail almost scratched the surface of your cheek. The audacity made you grind your teeth and strike her in the nose. As you palmed the exact centre of her face, the door opened once more.

You gasped.

“Wha-“ Trevor whispered as he just about caught you slapping his mother. The mere shock in his eyes. He hadn’t of seen his mum in 10 years and the second he does, she’s being harmed by someone close to him. You.

“Trevor, I can explain!”

“Oh, yes they can!” Betty bellowed with a snarky grimace, “Of course you find yourself an abuser for a partner! You wrecked boy!”

He was overwhelmed. His mouth was dropped open and all the confidence he normally had was gone. He carried nothing on him. Nothing but weakness.

You shook your head rapidly, “No, no! She was disrespecting me and you!”

“I-“

“You can’t let your own mother be attacked by a slut, Trevor! You aren’t a man at all! You’re a pathetic little girl. Your father was damn right about you…” She enjoyed the look of despair in his face. You held your breath at the ongoing series of insults and verbal abuse.

Trevor stuttered, “Mama, no-“

“Mama? What are you? My god, Trevor. How are you living? You… You were such a waste of space,” Betty belittled, “I expected so much of you.”

“Shut the fuck up, Betty. You leave him alone.”

She glared at you as Trevor finally spoke.

“W-What are you doing… Here?” His voice cracking with anxiety.

“I’m your mother! You rascal!”

“SHUT UP, BETTY!”

“Okay!” Trevor cried out, holding out his hands to both of you, “Okay, please. What is going on… What…”

I sighed, “She walked in without knocking and began tormenting me.”

He didn’t know how to react as he looked at his mother for moral support. You were disgusted.

“Trevor, don’t look at her. She’s a bitch!”

“A bitch?” Betty riled up.

“YES, A BITCH!”

“STOP IT!” He wobbled, “PLEASE, JUST STOP!”

I threw my hands up in disbelief and scoffed under my breath. Betty looked at me up and down through this action in distress. She was amused. She loved the negativity of people. She was an evil witch.

“Oh, get over yourself, boy.” Demanded Betty, hands stationed on her hip.

You tried to give him a reassuring look but Trevor refused to even glance in your direction. Growing tired of this woman, you threw the laundry onto his bed and leaned into his ear.

“I’m leaving.” You spat.

Trevor went to reach for your hand but you left the trailer, furious at his muteness. He turned to Betty who was smirking at your defeat.  

[changingplumbob]

Pancakes Household: Chapter 7, Part 3

Pancake part 3 is done. Dale has been a brilliant dog but his sunset is drawing to an end.

TW: Sim dog death. No dead Dale is shown (Why do chickens get to interact with Grimm but dogs don't?), but there are a few pics of him in the timeless save.

In this part Dale has a happy day before crossing the rainbow bridge peacefully. Bob gains a celebrity star, develops into an emotion bomb and self publishes two cookbooks. Finally, as each sim day is 3 months in my timeline, the next family dog arrives.

And here we have proof that my save file Pancakes are good for each other. Bob propositions Eliza and she doesn't worry about getting her everyday clothes into the hamper until she wakes up the next day. Dale decided to sleep outside last night. With lights and noises starting up inside he wakes up happy.

I've come to accept that Eliza's business associates are only available for business calls at the weirdest times. Today they're available at 6:30am. Bob made everyone a tasty breakfast and gets Dale ready to go for a jog. He may be old but Bob knows he likes the wind in his floof.

Fair warning, today is Dale's last day. He enjoys going for a jog with his dad and I take the opportunity to get some photos of him for the house. When they get back home, he and Bob spend time together. He follows Bob around while he collects the laundry and puts it on to wash.

Writing this cookbook is proving hard for Bob. Writing is one of his weaknesses and he tries to avoid it when possible. Yet he does want to improve his fame and this seems like a good way to jump start it. With Dale providing moral support he finishes it, and self publishes it from the mailbox.

Iggy and Fergus return from school with the same project boxes, space models. They set up shop in the lounge and begin working with supervision from Dale. Bob joins in to help Iggy before work. Fergus suggests Iggy needs all the help he can get, but the older brother playfully laughs it off.

Bob departs for work and Dale guards his clothes.

Eliza: How was school

Fergus: Fine

Iggy: Some kids mentioned rebate day. Last rebate day we got the treehouse, what do we get this time?

Eliza: Saving accounts

Fergus: Seriously

Eliza: Your father and I have ordered a new bed

Iggy: Mother, ew, we don't need to hear that

The boys return to their projects and Eliza takes a moment to admire her new possession. She heads back downstairs and hasn't been helping Fergus long when Iggy finishes his project. Being a good brother he comes over to help Fergus but doesn’t even have time to sit before it's also finished.

The boys head to bed while Eliza kisses Dale and makes more weirdly timed phone calls. Bob arrives home from his shift feeling tense, but he's now a 1 star celebrity. He's on the road to fame. He uses his new status to impress Eliza, who is already impressed, and the two head to bed happy.

I don't like to use life extenders in sims. If I used it on one I would use it on all and no one would ever die. Dale has lived a long and fulfilling life. It's time for his last jog over the rainbow bridge. Farewell to one of the best boys.

Dale arrives on Olive's beach looking young and exuberant. She gives him a large treat and promises he has family waiting for him. Indeed, a hop skip and jump later he's in the timeless save with his mum and fellow litter mates. Dale happily plays at peace (he's the one between his mum's paws).

It's no surprise that everyone wakes up sad in the regular save, they miss Dale. Eliza stress cleans, although she feels guilty about vacuuming up Dale's fur. At Breakfast Bob is despondent. He tries to put on a brave face for the kids but isn't sure what to do to comfort himself.

While the rest of the family eat, Bob throws himself into tasks. His low mood has pushed him to develop the celebrity quirk Emotion Bomb, the countdown has begun. After his exercise he fixes the washing machine. Somehow the washed clothes are still pristine. He hangs them up when the doorbell rings.

Bob: How's it going

Aaron: I'm okay, just noticed it seemed pretty quiet over here

Bob: Dale is no longer with us

Aaron: Oh man, I am so sorry

Bob: I mean we knew it would happen sometime, he was getting old

Aaron: Still, pets are a hard loss

And with that the emotion bomb detonates and Bob cries.

After a therapeutic cry Bob feels much better, the sadness has dissipated.

Bob: Now I know you didn't come to a chef's house and put a snack in the microwave

Aaron: I have to plead guilty

Bob: The fridge is stocked with baking you know

Aaron: I did see that when I got my quick meal

Bob: Then why

Aaron: I wouldn't have done it if you didn't have pizza rolls hiding in there

Bob: Thanks for checking on me

Aaron: Any time. The idea that men can't express emotions is so last century

Bob: I think I want another dog

Aaron: Already

Bob: Life is short, and I'm a dog person

Aaron: You'll know best

Aaron leaves and Bob gazes out the window at the sunny autumn day. He knows that Dale would want him and the family happy. But can he convince the others to get another dog so soon, and that it's not going to just be a replacement for Dale. He certainly hopes so.

Fergus and Iggy arrive home sad. Unsurprisingly they didn't have a great school day. They pay Dale's remains a visit, relieved their parents haven't taken him to the cemetery yet. Bob begins to write another cookbook, this one dedicated to cooking for your pets, but must fix the computer.

Fergus and Iggy decide to play in the treehouse for a bit rather than do their homework. Their parents can write excuse notes.

Eliza: Another dog

Bob: If you're okay with it

Eliza: I don't want Dale's death to throw you off your workout routine, it keeps you healthy, physically but also mentally

Bob: Any type of dog?

Eliza: Rescue

Fergus: I want another dog

Iggy: I want Dale back

Fergus: Me too but a new dog could be cool

Iggy: Whatever

...

Eliza: You think they'll be okay with this

Bob: He'll feel differently when it's here

Eliza: I hope so, I miss Dale

Bob: Me too Jumble, me too

Eliza: Maybe... a small dog

Bob: It's a promise

While Eliza works out Bob makes a call to the adoption agency to see what dogs they have. Then, deciding there's too much baking in the fridge, reads a baking book to improve his skill. Fergus tries to cheer himself up with TV while Iggy gets lost in his violin playing.

The next day begins, we're out of prepared breakfast meals so fruit pie for breakfast it is. Bob is the first one ready for the day. He listens out for the doorbell while he eats. The adoption agency should be dropping off the new dog soon and he's feeling confident that he picked a good one.

Also Home Chef Hustle is out! Bob's kitchen- I mean, the Pancakes kitchen, gets a make over. My first complaint is simply that the inner corner cabinets are just shelves which don't marry up nicely with the boxy look of the regular pieces. So the cabinets span one wall with shelves underneath.

Introducing 3-year-old Ginger. She is a mixed breed dog that has been spayed. Her previous owners were getting too old to care for her properly so were looking to rehome her with sims that could keep up with her playful nature. She is smart, although the rehoming situation has left her jumpy.

Eliza: Where are you

Bob: Dining room! Okay Ginger, time to shine

Eliza: Have you seen my- oh, is this our newest dog

Bob: Her name is Ginger

Eliza: Well hello Ginger, welcome to our home. I hope you'll like it here, we're excited to have you

Ginger: *stares around silently*

Previous Part ... Next Part

[survey--s]

423.

What were an average day’s tasks at your favorite job you’ve had so far? That would be my current job - normally I would do between 4-5 dog walks depending on the day, so an average day would start at 8.30am. I’d take Archie with me and collect my first dog/s, do walk one, then drop the dogs home and take Archie to my in-laws. Then it would be walks 2-5, sometimes I’d take Archie on the last walk too depending on timings and which dogs I have, then it’s back home. Some evenings I also do cat visits and horse care.

Does your house have an separate laundry room? Ha, no. We don’t have that kind of space. We just have a washer/dryer and that’s kept in the kitchen in between the sink and the oven. Do your parents still help you financially? No. My dad did give me £1500 for my birthday but I didn’t need or expect it, it’s just a nice extra.  List 3 things you can see from where you’re sitting? Purrlock who’s just jumped up next to me, the TV and a can of Pepsi Max. Do you go by any nicknames? Everyone calls me Nina, which is technically a nickname.

Are you a very talkative person? Not in general, but it does depend on the topic. What stereotype about your age group do you definitely live up to? I only have a low-paid job that doesn’t require qualifications, even though I could get something better. When was the last time it rained where you live? Yesterday. It looks like it might any second. Where is your local polling place for elections? A local community centre-type place down the road. What was the topic of the last documentary you watched? I can’t remember, maybe prisons? Does your car have a backup camera? No. Have either of your parents ever been in trouble with the law? My mum got caught speeding once. I don’t think my dad ever has been. What was the last restaurant you ate at? Bodegas Tapas and Wine Bar. Are you in the same mood most days or are your emotions all over the place? Generally I’m in the same mood most days. Have you ever had a pet that lived to be really old for its breed/species? All my pets are still young. I never had pets growing up either. Do you have a preferred brand of bottled water? I like San Pellegrino sparkling water, but I don’t tend to buy it often. Have you ever spilled food or drink in your car? Sure. Is your skin more oily, dry, or combination? Combination. I have an oily T-Zone but the rest is prone to dryness, especially this time of year when I work outdoors. Have you ever been in a relationship that was progressing faster than you wanted it to? Yeah, you could say that. What kind of flooring is in the room you’re in? Carpet. Pop quiz! Who is the prime minister of Germany? Germany doesn’t have a Prime Minister. What was the last strong scent you smelled? The candle I have burning, which is called “Strudel and Spice”. Are you more prone to overthinking things, or being too impulsive? A mixture of both. I tend to overthink the minor things and I’m impulsive over the stuff that’s actually important. When was the last time you wore an article of clothing that wasn’t yours? I can’t remember. Which one of your friends do you see the least often? Hmm, Mandy probably. Do you know anyone with a life-threatening food allergy? Not so far as I know. When was the last time you were outside? Yesterday morning when we took the dog for a walk. Who was the last person you sent a birthday card to? How old did they turn? I don’t send birthday cards.

[storytellersumayyah]

6. ari and camilla- newborn

for aisha, who has always seen it as being enough

Their home is filled with noise. Whether it’s a show they swear they can follow the plot of, or a lightly stimulating cartoon for Rani, there’s always noise. When it’s not the television, it’s the speaker. They both have their songs they need their daughter to love. And when it’s not the speaker either, it’s Camilla telling stories that Rani cannot understand yet. It’s Ari babbling away to her about what he did at work, even if she is only excited by the tones of his voice. It’s them, whispering to each other about what a beautiful baby they have.

When Ari’s key turns in the lock, he swallows. It’s silent. Not just quiet. Silent.

He takes his shoes off, because it’s an ingrained habit that he cannot break, but he doesn’t bother putting them away. They have a newborn. And Ari had to go back to work, even if he felt guilty every time he set Camilla’s travel mug down on her bedside table so it would still be hot when she woke up. The house is never perfect.

Camilla is sitting on the carpet. She does that a lot, but it does nothing to stop his worry.

He creeps closer and realises she’s crying. Laundry is piled up on the sofa, and for some reason, the coffee table has been wiped clear of all the items that are normally stored there.

“Camilla?” He asks, trying to understand what’s happening.

She looks up and starts crying even more. Ari feels awful. He doesn’t know what to do. Normally, there would be something obvious he could do to help. But he doesn’t want to fold the laundry or restore their coffee table to its original state. He wants to help Camilla.

So he does what helps more than it hinders. He sits down next to her and pulls her into his arms so he can hold her until her breathing starts to even. He doesn’t try to make her speak or stop crying. He knows that she needs to release the feelings. That she’ll come back to him when she’s ready.

“It’s a really stupid thing,” is the first thing she says. She doesn’t apologise. They don’t apologise for feeling things in their home.

“It made you sad. It’s not stupid.” It may be small, but it’s not stupid.

“So I did the laundry. As you can see. I was cleaning the living room whilst that went, which you can probably also see. And it dried, so I was going to sort through it. But then Rani needed feeding. And that was exhausting and then my chest hurt so I literally laid down watching her sleep. And then I wanted to clean the kitchen instead, so I started wiping down the surfaces but then I remembered the laundry. So I came to do that first, but my body hurts so much that I just gave up. But now we have clean clothes all over the sofa, an empty coffee table, and the kitchen has a clean worktop and hob- obviously, because we cook there- but nothing else is done. And I just feel useless.”

“You’re not useless. You never have been. And even if you were, there’s nothing wrong with that. Chores is not the price you pay to be here,” he says.

She sniffles into his shirt. It had to go in the wash anyways. “I wanted to do it all.”

“You don’t have to though.”

“It’s my job. I’m staying at home.”

He stands up, dragging her up too. She protests as he leads her away from the sitting room and up the stairs, but he just shushes her and carries on until he’s pushing the door to the nursery open. The nursery they painted together. The nursery that they put the furniture together for as a pair.

The nursery where the best thing they’ve ever made is sleeping.

“What do you see?” He asks.

She frowns. “Rani. Asleep.”

“I see our beautiful baby girl, with a clean nappy and a clean body. Fed enough to be sleeping comfortably. Dressed in clean clothes that will keep her comfortable in this weather. You’re a stay at home mum right now. That means your job is to love her. So if it was up to me, you’d be entitled to a promotion and a pay rise.”

She laughs, and it’s weak, but it’s real. “You’re so sappy.”

He tucks a piece of hair behind her ear. “You love it though.”

“I do. But the downstairs-”

“Can wait. Until you actually feel up to it. It hasn’t been that long. Your body is still healing. It can wait until I come home.”

“You’ve been at work all day.”

“So have you. We’re a team. I’m your husband, just as much as I’m Rani’s father. But if I want to be a good father to her, I have to be a good husband to you first because that. And that means doing things like folding the laundry when I come home and dusting the coffee tables on the weekend.”

“I love you,” Camilla whispers, resting her head on his shoulder.

“I love you too,” he says, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“The saucepans you used yesterday evening are still soaking,” she tells him.

He laughs. “Then they’ll just be easier to clean.”

[alsjeblieft-zeg]

054 of 2023

Do you have a reason to smile right now?

Yeah, I just came back from the sea. It was very windy, but awesome.

Do you start the shower water before or after you get in?

Before. We need our boiler to warm it up for, like, two minutes before it gets hot.

True or false: Your not sitting on a chair to use the computer right now.

True, I’m not.

Do you regret any of your past relationships?

I feel they’ve taught me something, but I only regret wasted months.

How many times have you been to a museum?

I can’t count, but I’ve only been to one in the city I live in.

How has this past week been for you?

Awesome. I travelled a bit around the province and beyond.

Is anything going to happen next month that makes you happy?

Hopefully. We’ll see.

Are you going to be getting any new pets soon?

Probably not. We already have two.

Do you like the rain?

Nah I hate rain. Belgium is rainy by nature and I just can’t get used to it.

Do you like it when stores have sales?

Who doesn’t? Always nice to save some money.

Would you rather be a Panda or Grizzly bear?

Panda, they look cool.

Do you have any of your Easter candy left over?

What? Easter was almost a year ago. I don’t have special candy for that occasion, too. We never buy it.

Is there someone on your mind that shouldn’t be?

Yeah, M. I can’t help it.

Does your ex make you mad?

No, we’re great friends.

Will you talk to someone on the phone tonight?

Why would I?

Do you like BBQ sauce?

I do, but as far as I know, every company has its own recipe.

Do the stairs in your house have carpet?

No, they don’t.

What were you doing at 9 AM this morning?

Stressing out about that door banging situation.

Can you do a twirl like a ballerina?

LMAO.

Would you rather eat 12 hot dogs or 6 hamburgers?

Either, but not in that amount omg. I barely eat.

What color is the door to your basement?

We don’t have any basement. Cellars in Belgian houses are a rarity.

Was your favorite class science because of the experiments?

Not only. By the way, we don’t have science classes in my country. We habve separete biology, chemistry, physics and all.

Do you like citrus pop or any drinks?

Yeah, Schweppes Citrus Mix is pretty cool.

Last time you wore the opposite sex’s clothing?

Never. I’m not a crossdresser.

What’s the last board game you played?

I don’t remember, must have been years ago.

What laundry detergent do you use?

Formil.

Do you trust people too easily?

No. I don’t trust people at all, unless I know them well.

Are you currently fighting with someone?

Not that I know of.

Do you hang out with your siblings friends?

No, we live too far from each other.

Last time you had butterflies in your stomach?

I don’t think I ever did. Maybe something close to it, last year with M.

Have you ever kept anything wild as a pet?

No, unless my cats count as wild XD

Do you set good examples for little kids?

Pffft. Not in the eyes of conservative people.

Does your favorite song mention a famous person’s name in it?

I don’t think so.

Are you counting down the days to anything?

Visiting my parents again, but we don’t know yet when it will happen.

Does your house have a pool?

LMAO XD it’s a tiny house built probably two centuries ago or something.

If you broke your computer, would you be able to fix it by yourself?

Easily. My secondary school diploma is computer technician.

On a scale 1-10, how much does the opposite sex confuse you?

11. Women are so complicated, and I don’t mean it in a wrong way.

When you party, do you get wild?

I used to get drunk a lot, but not anymore.

If you found a wallet full of money, what would you do?

Give it back to the owner. I always try to be fair.

Do you do cheers often?

What is that even?

Do you enjoy fishing?

No, I don’t.

Was your first job babysitting?

Thankfully not.

Did you wear a hoodie today?

I always wear a hoodie, unless it’s hot outside.

Are you embarrassed to talk about stuff with your dad?

No. I’d rather talk to him than to my mum. He’s a man like me, after all.

Taylor Swift or Carrie Underwood?

No.

[jeanbie]

porco as a teen hcs<3?? tysm!

MODERN! PORCO HEADCANONS #1 ★ masterlist.

⏤ hii! sorry for a late response, here are my porco as a teenager headcanons! i'm assuming u mean modern hc...because i think canon!porco is too busy with warrior training to actually enjoy being a teenager so i think they'd be boring, but i can think of some if u still want canon-related porco hcs!! other than that, enjoy!! &lt;;33

for most of his teen years, i think porco is just figuring himself out

he probably feels a lot of pressure to live up to his brother (who went to an amazing uni and is doing an amazing degree and is just so amazing, yeah yeah he’s heard it all before)

porco doesn’t really know what he likes and what he doesn’t

he definitely follows a lot of crowds, trying to one day figure it all out

porco puts on a front when he’s in public, as if he doesn’t care about anything or anyone or anybody else’s opinions on his life

but i think in private porco is kinda sensitive and easily bothered by stuff

which is why his day to day life might shock people

porco’s room is a hand-me-down from his big brother but it has a lot of character

porco likes art and draws a lot in his spare time

(he could never do anything with it, he doesn’t love it that much, but it’s an escape for him) 

so his desk is full of sketch papers and pencils and he’s that person who has drawers just filled with books and papers and some can’t even close properly

porco also likes to read and has a pile of random books down by his bed

when porco’s like 14 he starts to get really invested in planes and the mechanics and the whole aesthetic of pilots is kinda what his style is revolving around at the moment

he likes the top-gun movies soooo much

he owns one of those aviator jackets and wears it religiously

porco is also a lifeguard as a part time job, again he doesn’t really care much about it but it gives him some money and he gets to use the gym they have for free

personality wise, i think porco is really funny and honest which can sometimes cause conflict and it’s been the reason why he has no friends

then when he hits 16 and transfers schools when his parents decide they wanna be closer to the city that marcel moved to for uni, he meets a new group of friends

porco likes to start drama and then remove himself from the equation

actually he just likes to start shit with people for fun…which is why his mum thinks that he might be a good lawyer, he’s good at debating and arguing with people and doesn’t crack under the pressure of thinking of a comeback or a point or even a source

he probably does use reddit a lot….a flaw..

he’s also an avid porn watcher….like a lot of teenage boys, but sometimes he watches it even when he isn’t horny, just when he’s bored

he swears a lot and always has pencils in his pockets but he refuses to use a new one until it’s so small that he can no longer hold it

porco would kinda like to go into design engineering if he goes to uni (:

⏤ teen porco’s bedroom: a map

it’s small so there’s not a lot going on

porco doesn’t like to cling to his past self so anything slightly related to his childhood is in a box in the loft, he doesn’t want to look at stuffed animals now that he’s grumpy and a teen

his corkboard is full of cinema tickets, he definitely likes to keep the cinema tickets to all movies he goes to

sometimes porco can get lazy with his laundry and just has stuff everywhere but eventually he cleans it up

porco can be very clean when he’s feeling stressed, and he likes to deep clean the house (his mum likes that) when he’s feeling the stress get to him

he has a lot of movie posters in his room

and as i said, the drawings all over the desk

i think porco probably doesn’t have a tv in his room because he doesn’t watch a lot of tv, so his games console is downstairs because he shares with his dad

there’s nothing that makes his room stand out from anyone else’s room because porco doesn’t LOVE being in his room

if he can help it, he likes to sit in the living room in his house with his family or he’s out with his mates

if he’s in his room its to study, draw or sleep

⏤ porco in a friend group

unassuming at first 

but he’s the cause of chaos in his group

currently his friend group consists of the warriors (zeke, colt, reiner, bertie, annie, pieck, yelena…the marley team yk) and sometimes ymir when she can be ripped away from her girlfriends’ clutches

at first i feel like porco is feeling his way around the group and then he starts to come out of his shell

his personality is quite “Chaddy” and sarcastic and he often jokes around for fun, never really meaning any harm by his flirty jokes or relentless borderline bullying

he also smokes with the guys a lot and figured out that marcel smoked and did every drug he could name at uni just for the experience, so he has something to bond with him about when he comes back for a bit 

he thought his friends would find his hobbies weird but he comes to realise that these guys don’t give a single flying fuck what porco likes as long as it’s not revolting and yk, wrong

bertie, in fact, likes to draw and annie reveals she drew creepy anime characters when she was a pre-teen

porco and his friends like to doss in public places, like at skate parks or in the treehouse that zeke has in his backyard that his dad built for his half brother but since eren’s younger, zeke can take it by force (eren doesn’t care because he’s too busy trying to flip his skateboard on the patio with his own friends)

porco is also a bit of an underage alcoholic but he absolutely cannot drink wine or else he will be drunk too fast and be sick anywhere

he is that kind of freak who likes the Godfather pitcher at spoons and all of his friends think that’s disgusting 

porco likes to tease and mess around but he is quite supportive of his friends, even when his words don’t align with that fact

⏤ porco in a relationship

himbo alert

he can find it confusing trying to be himself two times at once

because who he is with his friends is who he is on the inside, but who he is with his partner is also him but with alterations

he is quite laid back and toooo chill, which can sometimes be a problem with his s/o

his partner would need to also be low-maintenance because i just think porco would have a hard time finding the willpower to be over the top

he definitely puts his all into a relationship but it would be shown in ways other than extravagant flowers

he’d draw or doodle his s/o in class or something and probably likes writing love letters like an old man

but he does not believe in valentines day, that man thinks it’s a commercial scam and he’d rather just kiss his partner and give them a cute letter or drawing…cause he’s not spending £8 on some chocolates for one day, he loves his partner but that’s crazy

that stupid boyfriend who isn’t aware of how stupid he is sometimes

but you just need to learn to love it if you want to be tied down to him

(probably said and believes in “bros before hoes” so take that into consideration too)

he’s not a RED flag but he’s turning amber yk

[battlemaiden13]

May I ask for random headcanons, some romantic/crush/platonic or just stuff you think they'd do? For the Bad Guys Group, which is dust, nightmare, killer, horror, error, and cross. Sometimes people add fell and fellswap (red) sans in there, and you can if you want. I just haven't had much luck finding any written content about those guys. Might be pestering you more about them, since you do have lovely writing. Wouldn't want to take up all the request slots though, you know? Have a lovely day.

13: I don't actually have request spots unless I break like 200 and am no where close to that, so ask away! It will just take me a while to get to asks. Also this is my first time writing for Cross but I really enjoyed my own headcannons, sorry if they don't really line up with anything else though.

Error

doesn’t like physical contact at all. He will, involuntarily, hurt anyone who touches him. The contact makes him uncomfortable as it sends an almost static like shock through his bones. 

Does not like anyone. He has no positive feelings for anyone, even the skeletons in his group. He would feel nothing if they were dusted. He is pretty much neutral on all opinions of others. This makes it seem like his bored all the time. 

His sole goal is to destroy worlds created by others to keep the balance and the multiverse pure. He will only not achieve this if stopped by Ink and his group or he’s powers have been significantly drained. 

He is considered the de facto leader of this group but this was decided purely on magic strength and the fact that no one else wanted it. He won’t use this position often letting the others do whatever they want. 

He gets irritable when in dimension where his powers are drained on top of his already short temper. This makes him almost impossible to be around as he seems to drain all positive emotions that come near him. 

Killer

killer and Dust had the same ‘glitch’ underground that prevented them from moving past a genocide run after defeating the human. Being alone slowly drove them insane in different ways. One of the main differences between them is that Killer can still form attachments to people where dust can’t. 

He almost always wears his hood up and his clothes always seem dirty even if they have just been cleaned. He refuses to get new clothes as his old ones are sort of like a security blanket for him. 

Uses his magic to kill most of the time rather than a physical weapon. He does carry around Chara's knife which he’ll use on occasion but he prefers his magic. 

Likes making jokes and will laugh at his own jokes. These can sometimes be pretty funny although other times they are very disturbing

Killer hates being alone. He will follow people around, or sneak into the other skeletons' rooms to sleep on the floor just so there is someone else around. Whenever he is alone he has severe panic attacks. 

Has a split personality. He doesn’t remember killing people but just sort of ‘wakes up’ after the carnage is done. 

Cross

Is affiliated with both the bad sans and the good depending on their goals. He’s more like an antihero choosing the side that will benefit him and fit with his morals the most rather than staying with the one team. Being as strong as he is both Error and Ink have just sort of accepted this. 

Is the de facto mum friend in this group whenever he is here. He will tell them to go have showers, bring them water and food, do their laundry and most of the others come to him when they need someone to talk to. 

He is closest to Nightmare out of this group and the two often hang out together. Nightmare will talk more if Cross is in the room and the two even joke together although they also pick on each other a lot so it’s easy to mistake their friendship for an enemy relationship 

Draws in his spare time. He has filled multiple sketchbooks at this point as is very good at sketching but he doesn’t like others knowing about this hobby, it’s just something he does to help ground himself. 

Is pretty awkward in social situations and has a hard time with social ques. He hates when people stare at him and often feels like he’s said the wrong thing although he doesn’t understand why

Dust

Dust, having been driven insane from months alone in an empty underground, can see and hear the ghost of his brother. He can be found talking to them although there is no evidence that the ghost is actually there. 

Often kills in a haze of confusion or anger. He won’t know he’s doing it until he snaps out of it with a corpse or pile of dust in front of him. He has become numb to seeing the dead. 

Has a nervous habit of picking at the top layer of bone. This has led to his forearms gaining a flaky texture that he hides away under his sleeves. He also has his hood up all the time to hide away. It makes him feel safe. 

Has a very short temper and will blow up at others often. Threatening to kill them or even just going for it with no warning. 

He uses the fallen child’s knife to kill and will always carry it on him, hidden away in one of his pockets. He will hold the handle to ground himself if he ever needs it but it doesn’t work 100% of the time. 

Nightmare

Hates apples, any and all kinds and will throw a fit if they are ever around. However moments he can’t control his magic, like when he’s asleep or experience extreme emotions an apple tree will grow near him, sprouting the blackened apples that he hates so much. 

Doesn’t necessarily hate his brother would just rather never be in the same room as him. He can only take small doses of Dream at a time. They have a very complicated relationship that Nightmare doesn’t have any want to try and fix.

He is a very drippy boy. Goo falls off of him all throughout the house and there really isn’t a whole lot anyone can do about it. Just try not to slip on it. 

Hates his old clothes, they closely resemble his brothers and remind him of his least favorite time in his life. He still has them but refuses to wear or even acknowledge their existence

Is actually pretty quiet when compared to the other sans here. When he talks his voice is covered in a sort of distorted or bubbling sound that he assumes others hate so he just won’t talk. Someone mentioned it once so he just thinks everyone hates the way his voice sound and feels he doesn’t need to give people more reasons to hate him.

Axe (horrortale) 

due to the injury to his skull he sustained underground (from Undyne) he has a hard time remembering things. This could be where he is to who new people are to simple facts. 

to help with his memory Axe has a wall in his room that is just filled with scribbled handwritten notes of things he needs to remember. 

Axe has an eating disorder that was developed underground. His stomach and mind have a hard time distinguishing if he’s full and so he will often overeat. 

Axe is very self conscious and will often get very uncomfortable if anyone starts talking about appearances even if they aren’t mentioning him. He will shut down and not join in the conversation.

Axe, even if he is really interested in a conversation, has a hard time following them for extended periods of time. People will often get annoyed at how often he needs things repeated until he can process what is being said. 

[neverforpickles]

Hello. Happy 28th. This month is my first time doing this. I am excited to make a list of the works I have enjoyed this month alone. I hope you enjoy them as much as I did. Thank you for writing these amazing works, writers.

Do We Have A Chance (At Redemption)?

themoviesinourdreams | NR | 4.3K

“He finds himself at the overpass, the hairpin turn on Kentucky Road, and he’s getting out of his car and folding himself onto the frozen ground. He doesn’t realize he’s crying until he’s being pulled into a warm, strong chest.

Alpha, his stupid, stupid, brain thinks, drinking in as much as Harry’s scent as he can. He’s known Harry for less than two days, and he’s already broken down twice in front of him. Louis needs to get out of this fucking town. “This is where that boy died,” Harry says after they’ve been sitting so long Louis’s legs have begun to ache. “When you were in school here.”

“No,” Louis says, something he should not say, a topic he should not be broaching, a memory better left alone, “this is where I killed him.”

OR the one where louis comes home for thanksgiving and has to confront the everything that happened in his hometown the with help of the hot hottie harry”

gallery of us

@levelofcharm | E | 55.7K

“In spite of wanting to sound lucid and coherent for his own big jump, Harry wants to be near and touch, wants to listen to whatever the omega’s saying because he loves that voice, and he's always hated talking unless he has to. They're a good pair, the two of them, a perfect balance. Louis’ all sunshine, good vibes and healthy eating, lingering hugs and sticky cheek kisses, and Harry's the complete opposite without explanation, but fuck, it feels good to be around someone like that. To have someone like that in his life at all.

Harry wants to protect his affectionate ball of light from the world's ignorance, wants to help add to the glow like starting a snowball, rolling it around until it can’t get off the ground because it’s so heavy from all the effort, patience and commitment.

Harry knew what he was doing in life, everything laid out in black-and-white, each day pleasantly predictable. Cue lively art student, Louis, trying to find his place. An almost insufferably happy person who sometimes forgets to hide the way they feel meets the person who is diligent enough to notice and determined to make a difference.”

Dark Paradise

orphan_account | M | 953

“At least be clean about it! These suits weren't cheap!”

“Shut up.”

“I will not! You're not the one who does the laundry, Harold!”

“Dry clean 'em”

“Yes Harry. I'm going to send two suits drenched in blood to the dry cleaners. That's not suspicious at all!"

OrHarry's a serial killer and Louis puts up with him.”

How Many Times Will It Take (To Get This Right)

LilyBlue28 | E | 150K

“Harry was watching her go, unable to meet Louis’ eyes again now that they were alone, and that’s how he saw him when the young boy leaned around Jay to peer at his mum and Harry. Harry’s jaw went slack, his mouth falling open in disbelief when two green orbs identical to his own found him and stared unwaveringly calm into Harry’s sunglasses-covered face. His small features were undeniably close to Louis’. Their noses, their lips, even their brow line was the same, but the pup’s eyes were an eerily familiar shade of emerald, and much rounder than Louis’. His hair fell in dark ringlets around his small face, which was also much too round to really say the child looked like Louis, despite the similar features. Harry sputtered when his alpha roared in his chest that Harry should follow the kid--should protect his pup.But there was no fucking way.

OR the one where Louis and Harry used to be good friends (and casual fuck buddies), until Harry's music career took off and he left for a world tour. Louis disappeared from his life after that and for the next four years Harry mourns the loss of[…]”

the corpse in the closet

@orchidsbyjune | M | 4.7K

“Harry fell in love with someone that should be out of his grasp.

-For the love that came, and the pleasure and it’s misery. ”

Rapture

@allwaswell16 | E | 3.2K

“It was New Year's Eve in Victorian London, and a lonely vampire could no longer resist the stunning lamplighter he watched night after night.

Or, a vampire Harry fic because what says the holidays like Victorian vampires?”

I’m insatiable, it’s all your fault

@larrydoinglaundry | E | 21.7K

“Harry has met many, many attractive people during his heats before, some of whom have been on the brink of their ruts, and he has never wanted to spread his legs open as much as he wants to do it right now.

All Louis has to do is sit right there on the chair, and Harry is ready to present.

Louis' scent wraps around him like a tender hug, intoxicating in the best possible way. It smells so much like a picnic in a forest; something sweet yet sophisticated like dark chocolate, sprinkled with a touch of pine and rain. It’s everything Harry is addicted to.  

OR  The last thing Harry expected when he started a new job was to meet his truebond. The only problem is, his truebond happens to be one of his students, and he's never been the man to dismiss his morals.”

Carolina

@orchidsbyjune | Teen | 1.5K

“The young man’s laugh ricocheted like a bullet in the dark. Full of hope and courage. And in their minds, they’d wonder of the reasons that made them so happy, so in love.”

Heat Wave

@wildwinters | M | 64.1K

“Italy, 2018. Summer in Italy is sticky, especially in Marina di Pietrasanta. Louis Tomlinson, a soft and independent omega, goes to spend his holidays there with his daughter Alice. He has rented a vacation home built on a large estate owned by one Harry Styles, a kind-hearted alpha who is not very fond of children, but he tries.A lot can happen in fifteen days.”

I would wait forever (and ever)

anditsonlyforthebrave | NR | 10K

“Louis is brave and has the worst timing in the world, Harry doesn't want to lose his best friend and they just don't communicate enough.”

you pop when we get intimate

DaddyAlphaLouisBabyOmegaHarry | E | 7.4K

“Harry has never been eaten out before. His pack leader offers to show him what it's like. A lot of orgasms ensue.”

Breathe me in, Breathe me out

@lunarheslwt | GA | 14.2K

“Louis was just passing the autumn collection, when an unfamiliar but addicting scent tickled his nose. Cinnamon. He turned as he realised something.He felt calm. Relaxed.The permanent agitation that he carried was melting away the more he breathed in the scent, as faint as it was. Consumed by the crazed desire to seek out the specific candle, Louis began picking up candles and sniffing them madly, when a deep voice piped up, startling him.

“Uh, sir, we don’t allow candle fetishists in here.”

Louis froze mid sniff in mortification. Willing himself to not blush, he turned, a retort at the tip of his tongue. Except, it died in his throat as he took in the man before him.

“I uh,” Louis blurted out accidentally, temporarily rendered speechless by the frankly unfairly beautiful man before him. Only at the man’s grin widening did he regain his wits.

“You’re gonna kink shame me?”

Or, Louis is drawn into a quaint candle shop in his desire to find ways to soothe himself while struggling with touch depri. It takes him two more run-ins and with the lovely alpha sales assistant, and a drop, to figure out the source of the scent[…]”

Vice: Nesting is weird, but it’s okay

@littleohs | M | 9.4K

“Harry has all the pressure on his shoulders, but resorting to his instincts is not the best option for him. He doesn't want to risk his relationship with Louis by being a flawed omega.

Or, Harry nests for the first time and he doesn't know how to behave.”

The Lesser King

HelenaAzure | NR | 8.5K

“Louis goes off to war leaving Harry on the throne. But Harry has a dangerous secret of his own. With time running out and his health on the line, will Harry break and tell Louis, or will he consume the dangerous poison of insecurity destroying everything they have.

Or A sweet little tale of finding one's own worth told through the eyes of our favorite people, sprinkled with humor, a dash of angst and a side of fluffy, lovey-dovey stuff.”

dived head in first to the intricacies of you

@orchidsbyjune | GA | 2.1K

“Harry’s personal ode to Louis’ bravery.”

lucky me, lucky you

@everysingleday | E | 7.1K

“There’s something about him, Louis Tomlinson. Of course, he’s beautiful in a god-like way, tan and leanly muscled everywhere Harry’s seen and so effortlessly gorgeous even with his ruined quiff and wrinkled shirt that it makes Harry ache. Harry’s not going to deny, either, that he’s got a bit of a hero worship thing to sort through—that he can’t believe he, Harry Styles, in all the slightly nerdy, gangly-limbed, eighteen-year-old awkwardness he knows he is, has caught Louis Tomlinson’s attention.

Louis’ gorgeous and a minor school celebrity and—Harry doesn’t think that’s all it is. After all, Louis’d said be a good boy and it had hit Harry in the backs of his knees, softened all the tendons and muscles until it was an immense effort just to keep his feet. 

He wants to let Louis have that—have him, on his knees, easy and good and willing—badly.”

serve me up a little hope on the rocks

we_are_the_same | M | 10.2K

“He’s just finished making a drink for another customer when a literal angel walks towards him. It’s not an exaggeration to say that the crowd almost seems to part for him, and for a moment Louis wonders if there’s a literal halo around him or if it’s just the lights in the bar, and then he notices the way the man trips over nothing, and the illusion wanes somewhat.

He’s still fucking gorgeous though, even on bambi legs, and Louis resists the urge to paste on his tried-and-ever-undefeated flirty smile. Instead he just grins, appraising this newest customer and trying to remain professional. He might be demiromantic, or whatever the fuck Zayn had called it, but that doesn’t mean he can’t appreciate this man’s good looks. After all, his romantic identity had nothing to do with his sexual identity, much as people assumed it did. For a brief moment Louis laments his decision to stop sleeping with people, especially when the boy pops a dimple when he smiles back at him.

Or: Louis is a bartender who doesn't take drink orders, but just makes drinks based on what he thinks his customers will like. Harry is[…]”

Twenty- Eight

@beardyboyzx | M | 1.4K

“Can't believe you finally caught him," Niall says, clapping him on the back. He's been there with him on his very first mission, when Twenty-Eight was just the first criminal Harry encountered in his spy career to them.

or: Agent Harry Styles has finally caught his nemesis, but there's a knot in the plot he's not ready to detangle.”

Feeling It Now

@crimsontheory | E | 7K

“When Louis hooked up with a hot guy in the bathroom at a music festival, the last thing he was expecting was for that guy to be one of the headlining acts at the festival.”

Woken Up From My Sleep

therougeskimo | NR | 7.8K

“Louis Tomlinson ropes the rest of One Direction into his notorious pranking on their security.

Harry Styles just wants to sleep after his flight gets canceled. He wakes up drowning - kind of.

Or the one where Louis pranks the wrong room by accident.”

L’amour de ma vie

lovesicklarry | GA | 8.8K

“Louis stands there as Harry walks out of the room, He scratches the back of his neck near his mating gland as he speaks “Uhm, I should leave…” He says, tapping his foot on the floor.

Harry’s eyebrows furrow and he stands there for a moment “Do you have to?”

“Uhm— well, I wouldn’t want to intrude any longer, you must have plans of your own,” Louis speaks slowly.

“I am off this week — if you don’t have a specific itinerary, I can show you around in an amazingly custom french manner… show you some amazing places and restaurants.” Harry says in a breath, his hands behind his back, itching — hoping that the omega in front of his eyes would accept the offer and stay for longer.

“Do you mean that?” Louis asks in confirmation.“

Every single word.” Harry nods along with a serious face.

OR One where they meet at an impromptu ball in Paris during pre valentine’s week and things that happen after that are unplanned but meant to be.”

A Sprintime’s Wilt, an Autum’s Bloom

snowcaplou | E | 2.5K

“What about you Harry? Maybe you should apply for the position,” she teases.

“Oi! You better not be trying to get rid of my best driver-- I can’t go looking for a replacement, I’m too busy!” Louis says with a playful slap to Savannah’s shoulder. It's jestful, like the rest of their conversation, but there is a possessive bite to his words-- my best driver-- the words bounce through Harry’s ears until he can just hear the words my and mine. It falls deaf on Savannah’s beta senses, but for a minute Harry thinks he can sense the same words zooming through Louis’ thoughts.

My, mine.

My alpha.

And woah, Harry’s taking it too far. At least, he thinks he’s taking it too far, but when he looks back up from his plate, Louis’ eyes are heavy on his, and for a fleeting second, Harry can pretend he heard Louis say it.

ORHarry is Louis' personal chauffeur, and although he hides his feelings for his boss behind a wall of rigid professionalism, Louis still manages to squeeze through the cracks.”

a rose surrounded by thorns

star_k | E | 3.3K

“There were nine levels of hell in Dante’s vision. Distantly, Louis wondered in which one you’d go for getting off on rimming the demon who ate your soul.”

Blackberries and Cherries

lilliandherself | E | 13.9K

“The look on Harry’s face is what causes him to waver. He looks desperate, and Louis knows he is. A potion like this could help Harry with the one thing he’s always struggled with; school. But Louis’ not a certified witch and has never practiced this potion before. Anything could go wrong.

Hesitantly, he says, “I will try to make this potion for you, but—”

He’s interrupted by Harry’s cheering. “Thank you, thank you, thank you, you are the best friend I could ever have, you mean so fucking much to me,” Harry says, the words falling out of his mouth on impulse. Louis closes his eyes and scrunches his nose when Harry begins pressing kisses all over his face.

Nothing about this can end well. Louis knows that for a fact.

Louis is a witch and Harry is his human friend. When Harry needs help focusing on his schoolwork, the obvious solution is to ask Louis for a potion. You could say things don’t go quite right.”

heaven sends ( a little death)

ressurectdead | E | 5.1K

“And then, the girl opposite her smiles. She smiles, and it’s not even because of the little devil horns on her headband and the red tail stuck through her belt loop, but it’s still absolutely devilish, and Harry’s heart absolutely does backflips into outer space and back.

or: harry experiences a ghastly surprise of ghoulish delights when louis, the girl she’s been looking at during the halloween party, turns out to be not just a regular girl. well, thing is, she’s not even human.”

Nebula

docklands | E | 2.5K

“Louis is alone at home. When he sees a shooting star, he makes a wish for his life to change. What he doesn't expect is the visit of some kind of alien incubus to service him.”

i swear i could give you everything

alwaysxlarrie | teen | 5.5K

“Louis Tomlinson was not a morning person, so he really should have known better than to start leaving secret notes on coworker Harry Styles' desk before he arrived at the office at 7:30 in the morning. But he had to admit that hearing Harry's reaction everyday was definitely worth it. Not being a morning person might be his downfall in this situation, though.”

i can feel your blood pressure rise

cinnamons | E | 9.2K

“Hello, your Highness," Harry heard a familiar voice coming from behind him. Chills ran down his body as he felt the coldness of something sharp poke the back of his neck, "Turn around slowly or I'll hurt you,” the voice said in a teasing tone. Where Louis is some sort of Robin Hood and sneaks into the King's castle, only to be fucked hard.”

Climbing over me while I crawl in the backseat

cuddlebugharry | NR | 3.5K

“Just because you eat organic bullshit every day and probably do hot yoga to indie music doesn’t mean you’re better than everyone else. You walk around like you’re all high and mighty just because you can choke down green sludge and touch your toes.” Louis spits.

“First of all, kale isn’t the only thing I can choke down, being flexible in many different positions has proven very useful, and you’re even hotter when you’re all worked up.” Kale Asshole chuckles as he brushes Louis’ fringe out of his squinted, angry eyes.”

in every sense of authenticity

orchidsbyjune | GA | 1.2K

“It’s that collective feeling of belonging, of strength, safety and home that’s enough to make Louis be a little braver day by day, more courageous and be trustful in every leaf of faith that he takes. ”

this love is ours

loulicate | M | 21.K

“I told you to call me Harry.” Harry looks amused. It’s not funny. Louis throwing up because of him isn’t funny.“But I’ve been calling you Mr. Styles for so long.”“And now you’re carrying my baby.”

or Farmer Harry got village girl Louis pregnant without mating.”

The Compulsion to Find Love

Toomanytears | E | 140K

“The most prestigious English third-level institution, Candling University, accepts omega students for the first time and Louis Tomlinson applies with bright eyes and brighter ambitions. There he encounters personal obstacles, traditional mindsets and a beautiful boy who inverts every prejudice Louis has ever known.”

a night with you next to me is never truly dark

platinumlies | M | 22.6K

“This feels like a date.” Harry said as he finished his chocolate bar.

“It is a date.” Louis confirmed as he finished his own piece of candy, “A chocolate bar date.” “A chocolate bar date.” Harry hummed, “With meteors.” he added.

With meteors. 

…and that was just the beginning.”

On Thin Ice

@neondiamond | E | 16.4K

“As the goaltender for one of the best hockey teams in the world, Harry never expected participating in his second winter Olympics would be so eventful. His hidden long-term relationship with the captain of their biggest rival team may have something to do with it.”

My Only Angel

LaLaUnicornz | E | 7.3K

“Harry wakes up in the hospital and thinks he's met his guardian angel.”

Enjoy! See you next month’s 28th edition. x

[sbwrites]

Eddie Munson headcannons bcz I haven’t finished the kinktober post yet

Definitely listens to queen only bcz Brian is one of his favourite guitarists

Used to babysit the kids in the trailer park when he was younger for some extra cash before he started selling drugs

Will only sell to over 16s and not to any of his friends

His main stims are jumping and headbanging

His main hyper fixation is metal

He will tell you everything about his favourite bands or book if you let him

His mum & dad are in prison because of a crime they committed together, he doesn’t care when they get out or if they do

Trans!eddie definitely named himself after eddie van halen & iron maiden’s mascot

He only wears soft pj pants & band t shirts around the trailer

Only gets dressed if he really has to because sometimes his clothes make him over stimulated

Refuses to get a corporate job and said to Wayne “I’d rather deal drugs for the rest of my life than waste away at a corporate job with a stupid boss”

Never knows what to get Wayne for any holiday so he buys him mugs because they’re cheap and thoughtful

Over charges jocks & people he knows have money

Saved up for almost three years to buy his guitar and amp because he refused to let Wayne buy it

Got his acoustic guitar from a yard sale for $5 because a string broke

All his rings/ accessories are from yard sales

His leather jacket used to be Wayne’s when he was a teenager

Saved up good money so he could go see Metallica in ‘85

His van was a 16th bday present from Wayne but the whole trailer park pitched in

Accidentally fell asleep in the back of his van one night and woke up to hopper banging on his van door bcz Wayne filed a missing person report

Only went to jail once bcz he beat up a guy at the bar for trying to drug a girl

Gareth bailed him out

Has boxes under his bed filled with things from past hyper fixations

forgets to return movies so he has a piece of paper on the fridge and on his wall with all of the return by dates on

slept at some of his friends houses and go back to the trailer before wayne woke up for a bit when he first moved in because he was scared he was overstepping

when wayne found out he gave him a hug and put up some Metallica posters up with him

the only time he asked wayne to help him is when he spray painted the corroded coffin banner

He only wears certain types of socks because other ones over stimulate him

Has a massive hyper fixation on space

Wanted to be a scientist when he was a kid

Used to win science fairs in elementary and middle school

Can cook a really good mac & cheese and spaghetti bolognese

Loves the sound of rain but would rather die than get any rain on him

Only does laundry once a month because he hates the laundry mat

Hates being cold but hates wearing scarves and coats so he layers up under his regular clothes

He’s not mean he just takes a while to warm up to people because of the bullying he’s been put through

Had always been bullied because of who his parents were but it got worse when he started expressing his love for his hyper fixations

Got a buzz cut because he got some bad knots in his hair and tugging his hair is overwhelming for him

[thusspoketrish]

Showers in the Malfoy-Potter Household

Domestic, tooth-rotting, fluffy Married Drarry!!! Written for the prompt Fresh over at @drarrymicrofic. 2.3K words. Thank you to @curlyy-hair-dont-care for the thorough beta xx

I. That One Time with the Gloves…

“Bugger, I need to shower!” Harry shouts to the empty sitting room as he steps through the Floo, shoulders tense as he kicks off his muddy shoes, waving his wand to send them to the hamper and clearing the residual mess on his and Draco’s Brazilian Macchiato Pecan hardwood floors. On socked feet, Harry dashes up the stairs towards their ensuite, disrobing along the way as the charmed grandfather clock in the downstairs hallway strikes 14:00.

Any minute now, Draco will Floo back in from brunch with Narcissa and Lucius—the very brunch Harry said he couldn’t attend because he pulled Sunday rotation at the Ministry. In truth, he had actually signed up for THE GREATEST WEEKEND QUIDDITCH MATCH EVER!!! between the Department of Mysteries and the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Harry had been surprised to learn that the DoM swots were a bunch of dirty playing wankers—their self-important swagger causing a stir on the ground and a gloriously brutal match in the air. Harry’s pretty sure he bruised his ribs when he struck the muddy ground at the end of the match. But even with his injury, Harry couldn’t help the wicked grin that crossed his face when Timmons, the DoM’s Seeker, watched in horror as Harry staggered to his feet, punching his Snitch-full fist triumphantly into the air.

The glory. The power. Harry feels like a warrior—he feels like a bloody beast!

The little white lie and a skipped brunch with the in-laws were worth it!

Once in the bathroom, Harry uses his wand to send his scattered muddy clothes to the hamper downstairs and turns the water on scorching hot. Stepping under the spray, his sore muscles relax. It’s absolutely blissful, and he can’t help the happy moans that escape him as the water sluices away the mud and sweat from his highly earned, brutal win. He chuckles darkly to himself. Those wankers from the DoM will be sucking on this one for months to come.

The shower curtain is pulled to the side, starling Harry so badly that he nearly slips, his head whipping around to face his smirking husband.

Draco sticks his head into the shower, making sure to avoid the stream, his eyes flashing. “Well, well, well. Look who’s getting so fresh and so clean after a hard day’s work.”

Harry huffs, covering his nipples with both hands as he says, scandalised, “Merlin! You scared the bloody hell out of me!”

“I’m sorry,” Draco says, sounding far from it. “I was so eager to see my husband after a lengthy morning away from him that all I could think about coming up the stairs was giving him the best shower blowie he’s ever had in his entire life…”

Harry grins. “Babe, I’ve missed you so much,” he says eagerly, stepping back under the spray. “Come on, get undressed and join me.” When Draco doesn’t move, Harry gestures inward. “Come on...come now…”

“Yeah, okay. Let me just…” Draco pulls from behind his back Harry’s dirty Quidditch gloves, dropping them into the shower as Harry gasps. The fresh dirt mingles with the water, swirling down the drain. Harry could’ve sworn he sent those gloves flying into the hamper.

Draco’s smile is shark-like, eager, and ready for blood. “Imagine my surprise when these came flying into my chest on my way up the stairs. I was so curious, I decided to have a quick search of the laundry room hamper, and lo and behold, I found all of your Quidditch gear, sweaty and smelling of fresh mud and grass, darling. Must’ve been one hell of a rotation this morning, huh?”

Harry holds up his hands. “I can explain—”

“Oh, really?”

“Er, yes…” Harry starts, running a hand through his soaked hair. “Babe, it’s those wankers from the DoM’s fault! They’re a bunch of posturing arseholes and someone had to put them in their place.”

Draco crosses his arms against his chest. “Ah, right. And that someone had to be you?”

Harry smiles sheepishly, shrugging. “Well…you know I’m the best Seeker in the Corps.”

Draco harrumphs, tilting his chin up and leaning against the wall next to the shower. “So, you know what this means, right?”

Harry bows his head. “Yeah…” he says sadly, shaking his head.

“What?”

Harry sighs. “No more Mimosa Sundays at Malfoy Manor?” he asks hopefully, peeking up at Draco through his wet, shaggy hair.

“Don’t be ridiculous. You know the mimosas at my parents' are bar none.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know…so, no blowie for me?”

“You’re damn right,” Draco says, yanking his head back and sharply pulling the shower curtain shut.

Harry grumbles to himself, turning back to the shower to rinse his hair. A minute or two passes before the shower curtain opens up again, a fully naked Draco stepping inside.

“But that doesn’t mean you can’t start grovelling the proper way: by sucking my cock,” Draco says with a smirk.

Harry laughs, wrapping his arms around Draco’s waist. “How did I land such a deeply compassionate, forgiving husband?”

“With that sinful mouth of yours, obviously,” Draco drawls, placing his hands on Harry’s shoulders to slowly push him down onto his knees.

II. That One Time Draco Was Trying to be Seductive...

Harry’s entering their bedroom, half an egg mayo sandwich in hand, when he notices Draco standing before the wardrobe mirror. “What are you doing?” he asks, pausing near the door.

Draco turns around, his arms spreading wide as he pops one narrow hip outward. He’s draped in an intricate floral-patterned gold bathrobe. “Do you like it? It’s new, darling. Just arrived from Italy. Rocco-inspired, heavy-weight close-knit silk lined with black satin…isn’t it gorgeous?” Draco purrs.

“Er…it’s quite something,” Harry says, biting into his sandwich.

“Neanderthal,” Draco tuts with a scowl before turning back to the mirror. He slides his hands reverently down the sides of his body as he tilts his head to the side. “It feels like fucking sex,” Draco whispers, his eyelids drooping.

Harry chokes on a bit of egg. Draco grins, ferally, as he faces Harry again.

“I have a surprise for you. Get undressed and meet me in the bathroom,” Draco says imperiously.

“Right now?” Harry asks around his sandwich, his eyebrows shooting up towards his hairline. “Why?”

Draco runs his hands down the front of his bathrobe, his eyes fluttering shut. “The things I’m going to do to you the moment you slip this robe off my body…”

That’s all Harry needs to hear as he sets his sandwich down on the nightstand to pull his shirt over his head, tossing it to the floor before levelling Draco with a heated stare and a wolfish grin. “Is that right? Well, go on, then. I’ll meet you there in a minute,” Harry says, now unbuttoning his trousers. When Draco heads towards the bathroom, Harry picks his sandwich back up and shoves the rest of it in his mouth before getting undressed.

When he’s fully naked, he opens the bathroom door, the entire room filled with fragrant steam so thick he can barely see Draco.

“Er?” Harry says, stepping into the bathroom. Draco stumbles forward, wand in hand.

“I think I may have overdone the steam a bit,” Draco says before promptly pitching forward. Harry misses him by just an inch because he can’t bloody see, and Draco lands face first on their tiled floor.

“I thought it would be sexy,” Draco whines from his position on the floor in Harry’s lap after Harry Rennervates him. There’s a red patch on his forehead and a trickle of blood coming out of his left nostril that Harry cleans up immediately.

“You were! You were so sexy,” Harry urges softly.

“But there was no arse groping. No kissing. No fucking. It was all so unpleasant!” Draco cries.

“Aw, babe. I’m sorry. I think we should take you to St Mungo’s just in case…”

Draco sighs, sitting up but swaying slightly. “Fine. Alright. But let’s not tell them the visit is due to my failed attempt at seduction.”

Harry stifles a laugh. “Of course not. C’mere,” he says, helping Draco to his feet. “You can seduce me after the Healer has ruled out a concussion, okay?”

“Okay. But only if you promise to take my new bathrobe off with your teeth later…”

III. That One Time with the Mongrel…

Draco’s writing out a pros and cons list to determine if they’ll be purchasing a cottage in Cornwall this summer when Harry appears in front of him, a black towel cradled against his chest that’s moving.

Draco quirks an eyebrow. “What in the fresh hell is wrong with that towel?”

Harry chuckles and pulls the towel back. Pressed against his chest is a tiny, muddy little Beagle.

“No,” Draco says firmly, setting his quill down.

“Wait! Don’t be so quick about it! C’mon, babe, she was all alone in the alley by the Ministry! No mum or dad in sight. I couldn’t leave her there!”

Draco closes his eyes against the utterly heartbroken look in Harry’s eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. Of course, Harry would bring home an orphan, Draco had been preparing himself for this day since they married four years ago, only, he thought said orphan would be a wee babe, not a filthy mongrel. He exhales, nods, and opens his eyes, hand dropping away from his face. “Okay. Well. I refuse to have this mongrel in our house looking and smelling the way it does.”

Harry’s face lights up as if Draco has promised him the moon, and the stars, and all the love in his entire being. All over again.

“So, can we keep her?” Harry asks excitedly.

“Yes, Harry. We can keep her.”

Harry surges forward to press a kiss against Draco’s mouth, taking Draco off guard but aiming perfectly, nonetheless. Draco can’t help the laugh that bubbles up his throat as Harry begins to litter kisses all over his face, the mongrel caught between them. “You’re going to love her, I promise. Just look at her! She’s bloody adorable, isn’t she?” Harry says, holding the beast out to Draco.

Draco’s nose scrunches up as the dark-eyed creature stares up at him. She’s so small she could fit in Draco’s cupped hands, but her smell is atrocious. “Sure…” Draco says slowly, leaning away.

Harry hums happily. “I think we should name her—”

“—Beasty,” Draco interrupts, gaze flickering up to Harry. Harry rolls his eyes.

“No, silly! We should name her Pepper. Because she sorta smells like black pepper.”

Draco wants to suggest to Harry that perhaps they need to visit St Mungo’s to get his nose examined, because the last time Draco checked, black pepper smelled absolutely nothing like faeces. But he refrains, the joyous look on Harry’s face well worth going along with the madness.

“Sure, darling, whatever you want. Pepper it is. But she’s going to need a bath.”

Harry nods. “Right, yes, let’s take her upstairs to our bathroom.”

Draco smiles tightly. “Ah, no. I just had that tub put in. I don’t want this mong—Pepper staining the porcelain.”

“Oh, right, right. Okay, well, we can bathe her in the tub down here.”

Draco links his fingers together over his list. “Yes, excellent idea. So,” he starts, eyeing the now droopy-eyed, stinky monster. “Should we use a Petrificus Totalus or—?”

“DRACO!” Harry gasps, looking completely horrified. “We can’t put Pepper in a full body bind, are you insane? She’s a puppy!”

Draco frowns, his eyebrows knitting together. “She’s covered in grime and you expect me to manoeuvre this beast into the tub with its full cooperation?”

Harry glares at him. “She’s the sweetest thing, and I’m sure we won’t have any problems getting her into the bath, okay? Just follow my lead.”

Draco shrugs. Harry hasn’t led him astray yet.

When they finally enter the downstairs bathroom, tub now full of water at the perfect temperature and a mild soap, Draco suddenly gets an armful of Pepper as Harry begins to shed his jacket and jumper.

Draco stares down at her.

She is quite cute, with her large, bulbous black eyes, long, floppy ears, and wee-frowny mouth. Draco believes he can actually come to love this gross little beasty.

“Let’s get you all fresh and clean, sweetie,” Harry says, taking her back from Draco to place her in the water.

That’s when all hell breaks loose.

As Harry struggles to keep a hold on her, Pepper lifts her paws away from the water as if it’s fire, wild yelps escaping her as she struggles out of Harry’s grasp, dropping into the water first before lunging straight at Draco.

Draco catches her, her tiny little body soaking through his very nice, very clean jumper.

“Fucking fuck, fuck…” Draco mutters, staring down at Pepper, warmth exploding in his chest. She’s shivering against him and the anger and shock immediately leave his body as he cradles her, a defeated groan escaping him as a section of his heart unlocks and opens up to this little beasty.

Harry laughs. “Merlin, you are just so bloody adorable,” he says.

Draco scoffs, even as he stares down fondly at her, rocking her in his arms. “She’s a menace, that’s what she is.”

“No…I mean you,” Harry says, his eyes twinkling behind his glasses, cheeks dimpled. Draco can feel the heat of a blush spilling across his cheeks as Harry leans forward to kiss him. When they part, Harry glances down at Pepper before meeting Draco’s eyes.

“We’re building our little family,” Harry says proudly.

Draco opens his mouth to say something mocking, but can’t, not with the ball of emotion that’s suddenly lodged in his throat. Instead, he blinks several times, glancing down at Pepper who’s staring up at him with her large eyes, tail wagging.

“Oh,” Draco says softly. “I suppose we are.” He sniffs. “I think it’s best if we get Beasty Pepper to the vet instead, maybe they can help us give her a proper bath. Shall we?”

Draco smiles as Harry drapes an arm around his shoulders. “Yes, let’s do it, babe,” Harry responds tenderly.

[papipopsicle]

AFTERTASTE PART SEVEN

Pairing: Archie Andrews X Reader

Summary: In which two best friends since childhood test whether sex and friendship can co-exist without causing conflict. Including OC's Flick and Cherry, a bisexual and lesbian in a sapphic relationship who are best friends of Y/N.

Song: Dream Boy by Waterparks

Warnings: swearing

Words: 2.1K

MASTERLIST

feedback is always appreciated

Y/F and Y/M Robins were far from perfect parents. Y/F had the mental age of a toddler at times, and being an estate agent who always has to go the extra mile- he often wasn't home when his wife needed him the most. Y/M, on the other end of things, had been a stay at home mum until Y/N turned 16 last summer, and now she helped with all the administrative work for Mayor McCoy. She was a maternal creature which, coupled with her brilliant sarcasm, made for some explosive conversations. The two met on the first day of university and got married a week after the last.

When Y/M first found out she was pregnant with little Y/S Robins, the two realised they wanted a quiet bubble of a town to raise their children and grow up with them. But it wasn't until their second daughter was about to turn seven until they found their forever home in the quaint town of Riverdale. Ten years passing before their eyes, and the picturesque place didn't seen all that anymore.

Jason Blossom's death had nothing to do with the short gunshot sounding over the waves of Sweetwater River, the noise which woke Y/N from her sweet unmemorable dreams every few nights. The summer days rolled into early August without anyone caring, Y/N spending most of them at Cheryl's side listening intently to her past adventures with her brother. Betty threw herself into an internship at a publication house; Flick and Cherry had volunteered at a summer camp, and Archie was helping his dad out more and more with constructions job.

Although it hadn't been the start to the relationship Y/N had hoped for- the nervous giggles and hand holding, short and sweet kisses on late night walks followed by poetry worthy cuddling. There was a magnificent silver lining as Archie's muscles gained definition, and he suited the sweaty builder look far too well.

[INSTAGRAM]

♡ 602 likes

y/n Humph!

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Cheryl busy being my own icon

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"Earth to my gorgeous queen? Y/N/N?" Cheryl quizzed her friend, who currently resided at the poolside of Thornehill Manor. Her mind was off on a glorious tangent about her rendezvous in the kitchen at two in the morning. Fixing herself a glass of water, when Archie slips his hand into her pyjama shorts, his other around her mouth muffling her needy moans.

The red headed beauty shoved her y/h/c friend playfully, warm skin sweaty under her pale touch. Y/N blinked innocently and sent her an apologetic smile, "What?"

"I asked if you've thought about dating anyone else since Clayton?" The fiery ginger girl enquired with her usual upbeat tone.

Cheryl knew she had a unique quality about her which made it almost impossible for Y/N to lie to her face. The y/h/c girl scrunched up her nose, hiding the smile the idea of Archie Andrews brought to her face. 'Yes. We started off as fuck buddies but never actually fucked. Then I drunkenly asked him to be my boyfriend, now a month later I think we may genuinely work out.'

"Maybe." Y/N bit her bottom lip, listening to her friend's squeal as she squeezed her sun tanned arm.

"I knew it! You have this euphoric glow you only get when someone else makes you climax." The redhead affirmed confidently, watching the Robins girl's eyes bug out before hitting her arm, "Y/N/N, you know your secret's safe with me."

"Fine." She sighed and took a sip of her fruity cocktail, "It started off as just fooling around, honestly I just needed to let off some steam after everything. I knew he was into the kinds of things I was, I mean he used to tease me about it non stop. And it was good, so good I stopped being a pussy and asked him to be my boyfriend."

"Holy freaking hell!" The Blossom girl grinned with excitement, "Dare I ask, who is it?"

Y/N deadpanned at her friend, "Guess."

"Please don't tell me it's that muscular oaf Reggie, he's pretty but there's not exactly much going on upstairs." Cheryl tapped her temples and rolled her eyes at the thought.

"Nope."

The ginger thought for a moment, consulting her liquid courage and splashing her feet around the waters edge, "It's Archie."

All it took was a side-eyed glance at the y/h/c girl's blooming rosy cheeks to know she definitely wasn't wrong. Y/N severely lacked the ability to lie, even if her tone held conviction, her features were far too expressive and told the truth all on their own. It's not like they were hiding it from anyone, but the past four weeks had gone far too quickly without any moments to spare for the world around them. They slept together each night, the majority of that time not actually spent sleeping, but they hadn't been given the chance yet to explore more romantic avenues.

"It's fucking Archie Andrews- you're fucking Archie Andrews and don't you dare deny it." Cheryl gawked in her gorgeous white and nude bikini, watching as her friend lay back against the hot marble slabs which encased the large pool with the largest grin adorning her plump lips.

"We haven't had sex yet, so technically you aren't completely correct." Y/N winked but carried on before the girl exploded with a hundred questions and could never be turned off, "Trust me, I want to, and I'm sure he does too. But you know, it's his first time, I want it to be perfect for him."

"Y/N/N, you really love him, don't you?" Cheryl gagged to begin with, but she found it sweet in truth. She wanted someone to hold, who would hold her right back just as tight for no other reason than needing to.

Y/N sat back up and paddled her feet, "You have no idea, Cher."

Arch 🧡

That new post should be illegal

Tiger 💛

Ooo

I like this reaction

Maybe I should post more

Like this one

Cheryl pushed me in the pool

And I may have had a drink

Or three

Arch 🧡

Well that's sexy

I swear nobody looks good like that how on earth

You're a goddess

But also

How's she holding up?

Tiger 💛

🥺😇

Broken

But she's strong yk

You coming over for dinner?

Arch 🧡

Yeah Y/D invited my dad too

Need me to pick you up from Cheryl's?

Tiger 💛

Awe cute we love a bromance, and it's all good my mommas coming now anyways :))

Hours had elapsed far too fast and soon the summer heat simmered into cool waves of wind brushing over sun kissed skin. Cheryl's arms were clasped around the blonde's shoulders in a tight embrace.

"Thank you so much, Y/N/N, I don't know what I'd do without you!" The Blossom girl professed with sparkling eyes and a brilliant smile.

Y/N beamed up at her, fingers carding through her damp y/h/c hair as she looked over her shoulder to see her mum pulling into the driveway, "You don't need to thank me, Cher, friends look after each other. Message me if you need me, okay?"

Cheryl promised she would and the two teen girls hugged goodbye, with Y/N soon heading home- listening to her mother gossip about Hal and Alice's screaming match last night, Y/N loved her inability to keep her mouth shut sometimes.

"Mom," The y/h/c stopped her mid sentence and received a side eyed glance in response, "I need to tell you something and you're totally not allowed to freak out while you're driving."

Y/M's eyes widened and her grip tightened around the steering wheel, her daughters very rarely confided in her. While she knew her youngest was safe in her promiscuity, neither of Y/M Robins' girls ever shared their secrets so for the most part she took finding out into her own hands.

"Honey," The forty four year old's calm tone was hardly comforting to the teenager, "if this is about you and Archie fooling around, your father and I figured that out a long time ago, like so long ago. Who do you think does your laundry? When your underwear starting looking like dental floss, we caught on pretty quickly."

Y/N felt like a deer in headlights, "Mum, what the hell?" Her cheeks heated to an inhuman temperature.

"It's nothing to be embarrassed about, as long as you're being safe and he's-"

"For the second time today, and I can't believe I'm saying this to you, but I am not having sex with Archie Andrews!" Y/N's high pitched voice sounded through the car. It truly was a blessing and a curse to have such open minded parents in situations like this. She thought about telling her mother the truth, but Y/M was a blabber mouth as well as a gossip, so Y/N chose to withhold certain pieces of information.

The Robins matriarch dropped the subject but didn't forget about her daughter's tone, and continued to ramble on about how odd she found Penelope Blossom and the whole Blossom family in general. "Like why on Earth is Rose in a wooden wheelchair? They know it's the twenty first century, right?"

As expected, the Robins household was once again filled with warm laughter and copious amounts of food. The topic of Jason was skimmed over, and Y/S found herself away from the dinner table. The eldest Robins sibling was currently pleading with Alice as she began shoving all of Polly's belongings in the boot of Hal's car. She couldn't comprehend life without her best friend, not after losing Jason. They were meant to be going travelling together for a year- working the worst jobs and staying up all night to watch the sun rise in different countries. But instead, Y/S's eyes were blinded by tears as she screamed down the street at the speeding car, with Polly Cooper taken out of her life indefinitely.

Y/N was oblivious to the dark inner workings of the Cooper clan, Betty's knowledge about her and Archie unbeknownst to the loved up teens. She'd spent every second not occupied by her internship trying to justify the romantic act as a fleeting moment of loneliness fuelled by alcohol. She wrote in her diary ideas on how she could win Archie back over, not knowing it was in fact, too late. Betty found herself hopelessly in love with the boy next door, unfortunately for her, the girl across the road was the only one his mind found.

Archie and Y/N washed up while their parents resided to the living room with three glasses and a bottle of white wine. The short girl turned the tap off after placing the last utensil on the draining board, flicking her sudsy hands at the boy's face. "What the-"

She didn't give him a chance to finish that thought, jumping up and wrapping her legs around his torso- planting a kiss onto his lips, then cheeks, then forehead. The two fell entranced by each other, planting pecks across nape of her neck and top of his head.

"Son," Fred's voice called out from the next room and the two immediately pulled apart, hearts beating in their ears, "we're going in a minute."

"Alright." He replied, placing his girlfriend on the floor once more.

"I wish you'd stay." Y/N pouted childishly, she meant the words entirely but hated feeling overbearing. Her life had been turned upside down this summer, it started off with her unable to fall asleep with another person next to her- now Archie's chest was her most comfortable pillow and is arms were the warmest blanket.

"Tomorrow night instead, Princess? I promised my dad I'd spend more time with him before senior year." The boy reasoned, holding her close and unknowingly feeling the exact same way, he adored holding her by her waist and pulling her close under the duvet.

"Monopoly night at yours?" She grinned and he nodded back in reply, the two sharing a final kiss in the kitchen before walking into the hallway.

Y/N felt at ease as she wished the two a goodnight and headed up to bed. She took off her tea dress and replaced it with Archie's bulldog t-shirt, managing to reach the same length on her thighs as her dress did.

Arch 🧡

I can still smell your perfume on my sheets

Tiger 💛

Marking my territory obviously x

Arch 🧡

I love it

Hope you sleep well baby x

Tiger 💛

Call me that tomorrow and we won't be sleeping so you better rest up tonight x

Arch 🧡

Whatever you say, baby x

Tiger 💛

Goodnight x

Arch 🧡

Night princess x

part eight?

wanna be tagged? just send in an ask x

[phantasticworks]

a delicate cycle

hi! i was supposed to post this months ago but completely forgot to finish it until last night (oops) but this fic was inspired by the what dan and phil text each other part 2 video (specifically the part where Dan doesn't know how to use a household appliance lol)

i hope you enjoy!

(more iydlmp coming soon btw)

read on ao3

Words: 2.9k

Summary: twelve years should be enough time to learn how to do laundry... right?

Warnings: swearing

2009

Dan is crying.

Again.

He doesn’t mean to be, and he’s probably got a hundred things he could be doing instead of crying, but there he is, sorting pants and a million fucking socks and sniffling like an idiot. “Fucking laundry,” he mumbles sourly. Laundry really shouldn’t be this hard, or this annoying. It certainly shouldn’t be enough to make him cry.

His phone beeps with what is probably either a message from his mum asking how his studies are going, or hopefully (and more likely) a message from his best friend/boyfriend.

It would be kind of perfect if it was Phil, because then he’d have a convenient excuse to not do his freaking laundry. Or maybe he could do what he did last time, pack everything up into a suitcase and show up at Phil’s front door like some sort of homeless person. Phil said he didn’t mind if Dan did his laundry there, and a visit to Phil’s does sound nice…

Unfortunately, Dan is too miserable to even care. He ignores his phone entirely, telling himself that he isn’t allowed to check it until he finishes sorting his clothes and taking them down to the shitty little university housing laundry room.

Luckily for him, this plan is shot entirely when his phone starts to ring. There’s only one person who actually calls him these days, and Dan can’t help the way he scrambles for the device like the eager beaver he is.

“Hi,” he greets, slightly out of breath from practically leaping over the mountain of clothes to grab his phone.

“Hi, Dan,” Phil replies, his voice warm. Dan has no idea how he always manages to make his name sound so beautiful, but he does.

“Hi,” Dan says again without thinking. He can’t help it, really. He’s in love with Phil, and he reckons that he’s a little stupid with it.

“Hi,” Phil giggles. “Have you been turned into a parrot since I saw you last?”

Dan makes a squawking noise just to hear Phil laugh again. “Danny wants a cracker,” he jokes.

Phil laughs like it’s the funniest thing he’s ever heard, and Dan probably looks deranged with how wide his smile is. “Does Danny have something to do today?” Phil asks, sounding a little hesitant.

Dan sighs, his gaze falling to the pile of dirty clothes still strewn across his bed. “Well. To be honest, yeah. I’m meant to be doing laundry right now.”

“Yeah?” Phil asks. Dan doesn’t know why he sounds so excited.

“Yeah,” Dan replies miserably. “But I hate going to that laundry room, and I don’t know if I should wash my jeans separately and-“

“Come wash at my house,” Phil interrupts. The words are quick, like he’s desperate to get the invitation out there, and Dan tries not to think about why that might be.

“Phil, I don’t want to keep being an inconvenience to you, it’s not fair.”

“You’re never an inconvenience to me,” Phil says, sounding absolutely affronted. “Don’t ever say that, Dan.”

Dan huffs. “Well it’s not like you get anything out of me washing my laundry there.”

Phil makes some sort of offended squeaking noise, and if Dan wasn’t in argue mode, he’d probably laugh. “Uh, I get to see you?” Phil says, like it’s obvious. “That’s all I care about anyway. I just want to spend time with you.”

And that… that nearly makes Dan cry. At some point since he’d picked up the phone, the tears had stopped, but that sincerity, naked and honest, makes him want to weep all over again. “Really?” He sniffles.

“Yes,” Phil answers immediately. “I was actually calling to see if you wanted to come over, since it’s the weekend and all.”

Dan tries not to let that go to his head, but it does. He still can’t believe that Phil wants him, even with all the ways that Phil has showed him that he does.

He remembers the laundry thing again, and pouts. “I should probably do my laundry first. I don’t have any clean pants, like at all.”

“Just bring them with you,” Phil says patiently. “You can wash them while you’re here.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want you to feel like I’m just using you for laundry services,” Dan says, joking weakly.

Phil snorts a laugh at that, and Dan can’t help but think about how he got that little quirk from him. “I’m sure, Dan. Actually…” There’s some shuffling on that end of the call, and then Phil hums. “Yeah, I’ve got a couple things I need to wash as well, but not enough for a full load, so actually you’d be helping me out if you brought your things over to wash.”

There’s something about Phil’s voice that makes Dan think he might not be telling the whole truth, but he doesn’t call him out on it. Instead, he starts shuffling his clothes together so he can stuff them in a suitcase. “Okay, if you say so,” he says.

“So you’ll come over?” Phil asks, sounding excited.

“Yeah, I’ll be there in like half an hour.” Dan crouches beside his shitty little dorm bed, digging underneath to yank his suitcase out.

“Okay,” Phil replies. “Do you have money for a cab?”

“Er… I think so?” Dan says hesitantly. He’s honestly not sure.

“I’ll call you a cab and pay for it when you get here,” Phil says.

“You don’t have to do that,” Dan says. “You’re already letting me do laundry there. I’ll just take the bus.”

“I don’t want you taking the bus when you’re carrying a suitcase across town, Dan. It’s late, and there’s lots of weirdoes out there.” Phil’s voice sounds briefly far away, and then he’s back, so Dan assumes he’s set the phone down to do something. “Besides, I don’t mind. This is just good boyfriend stuff, you know.”

Dan blushes then, even all these months after they’d properly defined what was going on between them. “I don’t know, actually. You’re the first one I’ve ever had, silly.”

Phil laughs. “Then I get to show you how it’s done, alright?”

Dan grins. “Alright. I’m gonna finish packing up all my shit, and I’ll be there soon, okay?”

“Okay. I’m going to call the cab company in just a sec and I’ll let you know when they’ll be there.”

“M’kay,” Dan says, tossing clothes into his suitcase with absolutely no finesse to it.

“Alright. See you soon. Love you,” Phil says.

They’ve only been saying that to each other for a couple months now, but it still makes Dan’s heart race like it’s the first time he’s ever heard it.

“I love you too,” he replies, smiling down at his suitcase. “See you in a bit.”

~~~

It’s close to an hour later when the cab pulls up outside Phil’s apartment building, and Dan is itching to get out and smother him in kisses. He knows that he won’t, not until they’re well behind closed doors, but “I love you” is a broken record in his mind, and Dan wants to show it.

Phil is waiting on the pavement like he said he would be, and he grins when the cab stops in front of him. The cabbie turns to Dan expectantly, but Phil steps forward and taps gently on the window, a few pound notes held in his hand. The driver rolls down his window immediately, completely ignoring Dan now that he’s figured out where the money is coming from.

Dan climbs out of the car, dragging his bulky suitcase out behind him while Phil exchanges pleasantries with the driver. It’s a short interaction, and Phil says a polite thank you and goodbye when he sees Dan waiting for him on the pavement.

“Hi,” he says with a grin, clearly mocking their earlier conversation.

Dan smiles. “Hi,” he parrots. He spares a glance at where the cab driver is pulling away from the curb, and seeing that they’re effectively alone, he steps closer, poking Phil’s hand with his pinky. “Can I have a kiss when we get inside?” He asks, almost shy.

Phil gives him a soft, sweet smile. “Of course you can,” he says. “Come on, I’ve ordered some pizza and I don’t want to have an awkward run-in with the pizza man out here.”

~~~

“You should probably separate those,” Phil says from somewhere behind Dan. He’s supposed to be cleaning up the pizza boxes while Dan situates his laundry, but of course he isn’t.

Dan huffs, continuing to shove his jeans in the washer with the rest of his clothes. “No, it’s fine, I wash them together all the time.”

“That’s probably why your pants always shrink right after you buy them,” Phil says, sounding somewhere between amused and exasperated.

Something about his tone, or maybe the words themselves, make Dan tense. He tosses a glare over his shoulder, and almost can’t maintain it with the way Phil is smiling at him. “Alright, Mum. I’m not a child, I can do my fucking laundry just fine.”

The smile slips from Phil’s face and Dan knows the bitterness in his tone didn’t quite go unnoticed like he’d thought. “Babe…” Phil says softly.

“Don’t,” Dan snaps. And like the child he is, Dan feels himself tearing up, his eyes hot and prickly for no reason.

Before Dan can hide his face in shame, Phil steps closer. Dan expects him to hold him in some way, so he’s surprised when instead, Phil grips his hip and gently guides him away from the washing machine.

“Let me help,” he says gently. He leans down and begins tugging everything out, and Dan just watches, using the freedom from his gaze to wipe under his eyes and get his face back under control.

“I’m sorry,” Dan mumbles into the awkward silence of the room.

Phil glances back at him with a smile. “Nothing to be sorry for.”

Dan fidgets with his hands for a minute, watching as Phil separates his laundry for him. “Can you…” Dan begins, before going quiet again.

“Can I what?” Phil asks, pausing his movements.

Dan huffs. “Can you show me how to do that? Or like, make me a chart of what goes in which wash?”

Phil smiles at him. “Of course. Do you want me to explain why I’m sorting it this way now?” It’s an oddly genuine and considerate question, and Dan finds himself a little in awe with how much he appreciates it.

“Yeah, please,” Dan says, lowering himself to sit in the kitchen floor, sitting criss-cross as he watches Phil work.

“So usually you want to separate your pants and socks from your jeans-“ he starts, shaking a pair of Dan’s boxer-briefs as he speaks.

Dan interrupts him almost immediately. “But it’s all black. Aren’t you supposed to separate them into lights and darks?”

Phil smiles, but shakes his head, ever so patient with him as always. “Not always. Since the material is different, it washes on different types of cycles. And if you wash and dry your pants with this stuff, they’ll shrink.”

Dan nods slowly. “That’s why you hang them up on that- what’s it called?”

“Mum calls it an airer but it’s just a drying rack,” Phil says. He gestures off to somewhere behind Dan, his hand a weird, limp thing as he does. “Mine’s in the closet, we’ll get it out in a bit. So for the pants we want to put them on a delicate wash cycle, but make sure you put it on warm, about 40 Celsius, to make sure it’s actually clean. Then-“

Dan groans. “Can I just wear your pants? This is a lot of work.”

Phil shakes his head, but is clearly hiding a smirk. “No. You need to know how to do these things, Daniel.”

“Do I really?” Dan whines, scooting over and resting his head against Phil’s shoulder. “Couldn’t I just… stay with you forever and let you take care of it instead?” He says sweetly.

Phil kisses his forehead gently. “You can definitely stay with me forever. But you’ve gotta learn how to do laundry if this is gonna work.”

Dan blinks at the casual way Phil agrees to a forever with him. Even if it’s a joke, it makes Dan’s head spin. Still, he wants to grumble some more about how much work laundry is, but he knows that Phil is right. “Fine,” he mumbles, resigned. “And for the jeans?”

~~~

2021

i can do basic pants and socks on ‘delicates’ cupboard dry right?

Dan chews his lip as he waits for a response, staring at the drying machine with a look of reproach. Stupid laundry day. Stupid pants. Phil sits around playing fortnight with all his bits out sometimes, Dan doesn’t understand why they can’t just make that a household rule.

His phone vibrates in his hand, and he’s quick to unlock it and read the response Phil has sent.

Umm I’d just do socks and towels

Pants shrink

Dan swears when he reads that. Stupid fucking laundry rules. Who makes this shit up?

fuck

where’s the bloody drying rack thing

Phil doesn’t answer immediately, so Dan sighs and begins digging the clothes back out of the dryer, separating the pants from the socks, towels, and the T-shirt that had somehow made its way into this load. He’s ranting in his head about how much he hates laundry when he hears footsteps behind him.

“I can do it myself,” he snarks without even turning to look at his boyfriend.

“I know,” Phil replies, and Dan hears the sound of the drying rack being unfolded and set next to the dryer. Dan is petulant still, ignoring Phil as he untangles a pair of Phil’s pants from a towel. He feels a presence close to his side, and then Phil is scooping up the pile of pants he’s got set aside already, going about hanging them up on the rack silently.

Something about the silence makes Dan’s skin itch suddenly. He’s not mad at Phil, but a niggling voice in the back of his mind suggests that maybe Phil is mad at him. After all, twelve years should be enough time for someone to learn how to do the fucking laundry.

“Are you angry with me?” Dan asks, just to fill the silence.

Phil is quiet for a moment, so Dan turns, watching him as he finishes hanging up the last two pairs of pants. As soon as he’s done, he turns and steps closer to Dan, wrapping his arm around Dan’s waist and leaning in to kiss his neck. “No, babe, I’m not angry with you. I told you I could do laundry today though, so why…” he pulls back to give Dan a look, quirking an eyebrow.

Dan squirms under his gaze. “I dunno. I just figured I’d do it, get it out of the way. You’re busy doing other stuff and I felt like I needed to be productive.”

Phil frowns. “You have been productive. You emailed people today and you wrote our grocery list.”

Dan scoffs. “Yeah, real stressful fuckin work there, writing a grocery list and sending another fucking email that won’t be answered.”

Phil’s quiet for a moment, reaching up and stroking Dan’s curls gently. “Baby,” he says softly. He kisses Dan’s cheek.

He doesn’t say anything else, and Dan- Dan can’t take it anymore. He slumps, all the fight draining out of him as he rests his head against Phil’s shoulder. “Sorry,” Dan whispers.

It’s quiet for a moment, Phil just holding him gently, rubbing his back and rocking him slowly. “You made me coffee and toast this morning.” He kisses Dan’s neck as he says it. “You made up the bed, even though after last night we should probably wash those sheets…” he muses, trailing off with another absent-minded kiss to Dan’s throat.

Dan snorts. “I’ll take them off the bed if you’ll sort them out in the washing machine?” He suggests softly, kissing Phil’s shoulder. The kisses Phil’s been littering his neck with are starting to put him in a mood, one that he can’t do anything about until the fucking laundry is sorted.

“Deal,” Phil laughs. There’s another pause, then he speaks again. “You called the doctor back for me,” Phil says quietly. “Because you knew I didn’t think I could handle it today.”

Dan shrugs at that. “You’re my favorite person. And if those fucking doctors don’t figure out what’s making my favorite noggin all wonky, I’ll-“

Phil silences him with a firm kiss on the mouth. “You’ve been productive today,” he says simply, ignoring Dan entirely. He kisses him again.

“Okay,” Dan says. He doesn’t really agree with Phil, but productive doesn’t mean the same thing anymore, since the world is basically on fire, along with all his projects. Maybe he should have kept his old branding after all. He kisses Phil’s jaw, littering the two-day old stubble with kisses and soft kitten licks as he goes, trying to get Phil as worked up as he is.

If his labored breathing is any indication, Dan is successful.

“Let me finish the laundry, baby, and then I need to finish some work.”

Dan whines like a wounded animal, and watches the way it affects Phil, his eyes dilating. “And then?” Dan prompts.

Phil kisses him again, this time wetter and longer than the last. “And then we can ruin those sheets some more.”

Dan grins into the kiss, wrapping his arms around Phil’s shoulders tightly. “Okay, but you’re washing them.”

[chudleycanonficfest]

Air

Our first story on Day 1 comes to you by @zurisenchantedquill !

Title: Air Author/Artist: zurimadison Pairing: Romione, side Hinny Prompt: Rock Concert Rating: Teen, borderline Mature? Trigger Warning(s) (if any): bit of snogging :)

Full disclosure, I was inspired by the song "Stay Next to Me" by Quinn XCII and Chelsea Cutler

______

Ron

“You have ten minutes,” Ginny says, smacking her gum as she stares at me. “Harry will be here soon.”

I don’t move from my seat on the couch. “So let me get this straight, not only are you forcing me into going to this concert tonight, but you also invited your boyfriend to my flat?”

“You like Harry.” She checks her phone. “Nine minutes.”

I do like Harry, but I’m not going to admit that to her right now. I try a change of tactics. “I had plans tonight, Gin. You can’t just show up unannounced and expect me to drop everything to go out with you.”

“Laundry is not a plan, Ron,” she says, texting furiously as she plops on the other end of the couch. “Mum says I need to get you out of the house because you’ve been moping since your breakup, and I knew that if I gave you warning, you’d find an excuse to bail.”

I can’t help but wince, reminded of both the recent end to my relationship and the correct assumption that I’m hiding away because of it. “I just need some me-time right now.”

She looks at me, cheek lit by her phone screen, and smirks. “Eight minutes.”

Whoever said Weasleys are pushovers has never met my little sister.

Actually, probably no one has ever said that.

I sigh and stand, making my way to my bedroom to change.

“Comb your hair or something, while you’re at it,” she calls. “You look a mess.”

“Thanks Gin,” I yell back, but then I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Sheesh, she wasn’t kidding. 

Seven minutes later, dressed and groomed enough to be presentable, I set off down the road with my sister and her boyfriend. 

“Go on then, who are we seeing tonight?”

“The Black Keys,” Harry answers, grinning. “I’ve been dying to see them for ages.”

I’ve never heard of them before, so I ask, “what kind of music is that? Rock?”

“Technically, more Indie Rock,” Ginny answers, and I can’t stop the small snort that escapes me. She shoots a glare that very clearly warns me not to take the mickey, so I hold my arms up defensively and clear my throat.

“Oh, sounds...erm, fun.” It’s lame, but Harry nods and starts rambling about his favorite songs. For all my trouble, Ginny graces me with an approving quirk of her eyebrow. Thanks Sis. 

The venue is close to my flat, so it isn’t long before we’re through the doors, pushing our way into the crowd. 

It feels like even less time before Ginny is snogging Harry, their bodies swaying in time to the music as her drink slops unnoticed on their shoes. They break apart every now and then to sing a lyric or two, then they’re right back at it.

I try to ignore it as I down my beer, but the venue is so congested that I’m constantly jostled into them. Not that they even seem to notice, mind you, but as much as I don’t care what Ginny does on her own time, it’s another thing entirely to literally have it shoved into my face. 

My bottle is devastatingly empty, so I mutter an excuse and snake away through the crowd, not finding it at all dispersed as I move further from the stage. I spot a bar in the back corner and fight my way over to it, feeling like a hero returning home after battle when I’m able to place my order with the bartender. 

It happens as I’m waiting for my beer. I glance down the length of the bar, more out of idleness than anything else, and I see her. 

She’s got dark curly hair that’s highlighted with honey, a red strapless dress that could bring a man to his knees, and, unless I’m much mistaken, she’s holding a book in one of her hands as she leans across the bar to be heard above the music.

I am struck with the impulse to know the color of her eyes. 

She seems to be alone, and is the only person in the venue actually sitting on a stool. I’m not altogether surprised when, after receiving her drink, she opens her book. She’s so absorbed in her reading that she doesn't notice the people bustling around her. She doesn’t even look up when the bartender hands a drink to someone over her head. 

It takes me two more beers, alone in the corner, watching this woman who has such impressive focus, before I work up my nerve. There’s a small opening in the crowd, so I decide it's now or never and throw myself through it. I slip to her side and deliver the almighty line that I’d been working on for nearly twenty minutes.

“Whatcha reading?”

I honestly expect her to ignore me or maybe genuinely not hear me, but to my surprise, she looks right at me. 

Brown. Her eyes are chestnut brown, with a dark ring around the outside. They appraise me before the corners of her round lips turn upwards almost imperceptibly. “Treasure Island.” She has to shout to be heard above the music.

“No way,” I exclaim, bemused. “That’s one of the few books I’ve actually read! Isn’t it crazy that Ben had the treasure the whole time?”

“He what?” Her eyes go wide as she gazes at me, slack jawed. “Seriously?”

“Wait, you didn’t know?” I ask, clapping a hand over my mouth. “I’m so sorry, I thought-”

“Just kidding,” she interrupts me, then begins to giggle at what I can only assume is my idiotic expression. “I’ve read this a million times.”

Her laugh is infectious, and I silently swear to make her do as much of it as I can. I lean against my forearm on the bar and turn sideways so I can view her better. Something about the way she’s looking up at me makes me feel brave. “What’s your name?” 

“Hermione.”

“Ron.” I extend my hand. She slips her tiny palm into mine. I shake it, but then I don’t let go. 

A drunk patron knocks into me, pushing me closer to her. I can almost see down her dress, I’m standing so close. “It’s too crowded in here,” she shouts as she glances over her shoulder. “So many random bodies pressed together.”

“We should go somewhere.” I’m not sure what’s gotten into me, but I don’t mind it when she rewards me with a tiny smile.

“Where? Outside?”

“I don’t care,” I say. “Your choice. I’ll follow you.”

She surveys me, looking as though she’s deciding. “Aren’t you going to miss the show?” 

“No,” I laugh. “I don’t know this band at all.”

“Me neither,” she admits. She’s nearly knocked off her stool by a surge of the crowd around us, and this seems to seal the deal. “Ok, let’s go.” She stands and winds through the crowd, never releasing my hand. 

_____

Hermione

I lead my tall, red headed stranger to the back patio, feeling instant relief in the cool night air as we step over the threshold. The music is much less loud out here, and it’s not as crowded. I drop his hand as I perch myself on the patio railing, sighing in contentment as my overstimulated senses are satisfied by the calming change in environment.

Ron flags a server for us, so I take the opportunity to examine him while he orders. He’s broad in the shoulders but narrow in the hips, though the shape is flattering in the way his t-shirt pulls across his chest. From underneath the material on his left arm, a full sleeve of tattoos runs enticingly to his wrist, leaving me with a burning desire to see the obscured designs. 

Tattooed and bearded. Just how I like 'em.

The server leaves and he turns his gaze back to me, reminding me of the thing so far that I like the most about him.

His eyes.

They’re almost turquoise-y blue, and seem to ripple like water. That alone would be sexy enough, but there’s something about the way they make me feel. They’re...kind.

He leans his back against the railing where I’m sitting, close enough that my leg is brushing his arm. “So, did you come to this show tonight because you like a little background music while you read?” 

I laugh. “No, my friends dragged me here with them, but I lost track of them pretty much the moment we arrived. Hence, this.” I hold up my book. “What about you? You said you don’t know the band either.”

“Nah,” he agrees. “I was also forced to come out tonight. But, I don’t fancy watching my sister snog her boyfriend all evening so…” He shrugs. His hair moves gently in the night breeze.

“Well look at us,” I say. “A couple of third wheels.”

The server comes back with the drinks: two shots of whiskey and two beers. I thank him as I take mine, and Ron raises his shot glass.

“Left your boyfriend at home, then?” He’s holding the whiskey expectantly, smirking while he waits for my answer.

I roll my eyes. “Very subtle.”

“Oh, you saw what I did there?”

“I did, believe it or not.” I hold my whiskey out as well. “To being single?”

It’s phrased as a question, and there’s a triumphant sparkle in his eye as he clicks his glass against mine. “To being single.”

“Cheers.” We throw back the shot. The alcohol hums just under my skin.

Ron doesn’t return to his previous position, but instead stands in front of me so that his stomach is against my knees. He places his free hand on the outside of my bare thigh, sending tingles down my spine. He meets my eye for a moment, as though asking if I mind, and in response I lean forward and place my free hand on his chest. 

The full, lopsided smile I receive in return is worth it.

“What do you do for a living, Hermione?” His voice is gravelly now.

“I’m in microbiology,” I answer. “I work in a lab.”

“Wow,” he lets out a low whistle. “Smart and beautiful.”

I laugh again. “What about you?”

“I’m a nurse,” he says, puffing out his chest. “I work in the ICU.”

Somehow I understand the kindness in his eyes even more. I’m so distracted by looking into them that I accidentally spill some beer all over my lap. “Oh no, I’m sorry!”

“Watch yourself,” he says, laughing as he grabs a napkin and dabs off my legs. “Why is your drink so full anyway?” 

“Yours is just as full,” I argue, offering my beer as evidence.

He looks between our two glasses and shrugs. “Maybe, but I can drink faster, so it doesn’t count.”

“How do you know that?” I demand, holding the beer up now as a challenge. “Chugging contest?”

His grin is evil and beautiful. “You’re on.”

“Three, two…” We both begin to drink as quickly as we can, though it becomes apparent to me that I’m quite outclassed. His Adam’s apple bobs distractingly and I reach out, tracing my finger down it before I can stop myself.

I freeze, my hand again on his chest, fingers grazing the skin above his neckline. When I meet his eye, he puts his glass on the railing and steps between my legs, wrapping his arms around me to bury his hands in my hair as he pulls me in for a kiss.

The way he feels is so distracting that I drop my own glass, still half full, on the outside of the patio, where it spills in the grass. I’m sure we could get kicked out of the venue for that, but right now I don’t care. I kiss my new friend Ron for all I’m worth. He tastes like whiskey and every flick of his talented tongue ignites tiny fires all over my body. 

We snog for I don’t know how long, until we’re forced to come up for air. He doesn’t step away from me, but keeps his face close to mine as we pant. 

“I can’t waste another second here, can you?” His whisper tickles my cheek.

I run the analysis, weighing my options even as my head spins from the snog. I grip his arms tighter. “We should go somewhere.”

His lopsided smile takes my breath away.

[survey--s]

500.

What were an average day’s tasks at your favorite job you’ve had so far? That’s my current job - I run my own dog walking business. Most days I do about five walks - occasionally more or less. Normally I start around 8.30am, and do constant walks until 2.30pm, with cat visits before or after depending on the day.

Does your house have an separate laundry room? No, our house is tiny lol. We have a combined washer/dryer and it’s in the kitchen as there’s genuinely no other space for it to go.

Do your parents still help you financially? No. My dad gave me money for my birthday but it wasn’t to support me, it was just so I could buy my own gifts easily.

List 3 things you can see from where you’re sitting? The TV, a cat and the remote control.

Do you go by any nicknames? The name I go by on a day-to-day basis is a nickname, lol.

Are you a very talkative person? As a general rule, no, but if I’m with people I feel really comfortable with, yes, I can be.

What stereotype about your age group do you definitely live up to? I’m addicted to the internet.

When was the last time it rained where you live? It’s raining right now - or at least, it was a few minutes ago. I can’t see properly out of the window from where I’m sitting.

Where is your local polling place for elections? A local community hall about five minutes away.

What was the topic of the last documentary you watched? It was about crime in a country park somewhere.

Does your car have a backup camera? No, my car doesn’t have any cameras whatsoever.

Have either of your parents ever been in trouble with the law? My mum got pulled over speeding once but I genuinely think that’s it. They’re both pretty law-abiding people lol.

What was the last restaurant you ate at? A local pub.

Are you in the same mood most days or are your emotions all over the place? Generally I’m in the same mood most days unless something bad has happened, or I’m due my period lol.

Have you ever had a pet that lived to be really old for its breed/species? I’ve never lost a pet to old age.

Do you have a preferred brand of bottled water? I don’t drink bottled water unless it’s sparkling - and I like San Pellegrino for that.

Have you ever spilled food or drink in your car? Yeah, a couple of cans of Pepsi and stuff.

Is your skin more oily, dry, or combination? Combination.

Have you ever been in a relationship that was progressing faster than you wanted it to? Yeah, and the relationship ended lol.

What kind of flooring is in the room you’re in? Carpet.

Pop quiz! Who is the prime minister of Germany? Germany doesn’t have a Prime Minister. < Ok there you go then, haha. <-- this!

What was the last strong scent you smelled? The candle I have burning at the moment is “Baby Powder” and it smells really nice. Kind of relaxing and clean and comforting.

Are you more prone to overthinking things, or being too impulsive? Both lol. I overthink the little things and I’m impulsive with the big decisions.

Which one of your friends do you see the least often? I don’t really have any friends.

Do you know anyone with a life-threatening food allergy? Yeah, Susie is gluten intolerant.

When was the last time you were outside? Today at work - I came home around 2.30-ish, which is five hours ago.

Who was the last person you sent a birthday card to? How old did they turn? I never really send birthday cards.