*sweats* Friend can you write a 2p fruk drabble AND THEY'RE DOING SOME FUCKING SCRAPBOOKING PLEASE
[[IVE BEEN WAITING YEARS FOR A 2PFRUK REQUEST 2PFRUK IS SO IMPORTANT TO ME]]
Oliver had an awful habit of dragging Francois into everything he was interested in. A few months ago, Oliver began taking pottery classes and Francois was forced to attend. Naturally, Oliver got bored of the class and soon began looking for other hobbies to dedicate his time. After several hours of research, Oliver found something that was the worst of all.
"Scrapbooking?" Francois asked, extinguishing his cigarette in the ashtray.
"Yes, of course!" Oliver cheered, clapping his hands together. "The class starts in an hour so we best be going!"
"I’m not going." Francois muttered. Oliver’s smile quickly disappeared, turning into a slight frown.
"What do you mean your’re not going? Of course you’re going!" he said.
"I’m not going," Francois repeated. "I’d rather stay here." Oliver put his hands on his hips.
"And do what? Smoke cigarettes for the rest of the day? Sit on your lazy butt and mope the day away?" Oliver shook his head. "Nope, I won’t allow it. Come with me and make scrapbooks! It’ll be so much fun!" Francois rolled his eyes, pulling out another cigarette and a lighter. Angry, Oliver snatched the pack of cigarettes and the cigarette in Francois mouth and glared at him. "You’re going with me."
"Fine!" Francois shouted, standing up. "I’ll go to your stupid scrapbook class as long as you promise to shut up!" Oliver grinned.
"Good, good!" he cheered, grabbing Francois’ hands and pulling him out of the house. "Let’s go make some scrapbooks!" The both climbed into the car, Oliver in the driver’s seat, and drove off to the recreational centre in the city. They entered the building and into the main hall, seeing a bunch of elderly women gathered at tables, cutting and gluing pictures in books and binders.
"Oliver," Francois hissed. "There’s nothing but old people here."
"I know! Think of all the stories they can tell us!" Oliver replied, bouncing a bit. He rushed over towards two open seats across from two women. Francois groaned and reluctantly followed him, pulling the chair out. There were two empty binders in front of the seats, ready to be filled with pictures. "Oh, I hope you have pictures with you, Francois. Unless you just want to help me make my scrapbook."
"You dragged me out of the house; do you think I’d have a picture with me?!" Francois snapped. "I’ll just sit here and wait for my miserable life to end."
"Oh stop," Oliver said, handing Francois a few of his pictures. "You can glue these on for me. But only when I say so!" Oliver opened the binder and began cutting the pictures into different shapes and gluing them in slanted angles, adding decorations around them. "Isn’t this fun?" Oliver asked, cheerfully.
"No." Francois answered, simply. Oliver lightly smacked his hand and pointed to the pile of pictures in front of him.
"See if pictures of our commitment ceremony are in there. I can’t find them." he ordered, wiping his hands on his pants. Francois slowly shuffled through the photos and found a picture of him and Oliver standing in front their house, both dressed in white. "You found them! How delightful!" Oliver said, gently taking the picture out of his partner’s hands. "Oh, look how clean you look! Your stubble is gone and your hair is tied back oh look! You’ve got a smile! You look so cute with a smile, Francois!"
"Stop." Francois mumbled. "Just glue the picture down." Oliver giggled and gave Francois a hug before returning back to his scrapbook work. Francois shook his head, watching his partner gleefully cut and glue pictures onto colorful pieces of paper withe a small, tender smile on his face.