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me comforting a friend:

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They’re coming🖤👽🖤

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Happy Zen day sweet boy!

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quarantine means lots of time to develop real feelings for imaginary men

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Boys Night In

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this is it, this is the end of me

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This song came on my shuffle and I was overcome with a fever to draw it with the twins so intensely that I think I was possessed for a good 20 minutes

Saeyoung sings this to Saeran whenever Saeran’s mad at him and the second the first line comes out of his mouth Saeran immediately goes “Oh god no”

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LATE BIRTHDAY POST FOR ZEN complete with the fansite-ish preview photo

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Happy Yoosung Day 💚

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💕💕💕 BARELY MADE IT BUT!!! Happy Birthday to best boy, Yoosung!! 💕💕💕 

Bonus: a dilemma 😂

※Please do not delete caption or repost without my permission and a source※

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👽😻🌟✨

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museiisms  /  seven.

❝ exactly! so annoying … bastards … ❞

❝ ehhh, i suppose you’re right. i know more than them, that’s true. ❞ lights his cigarette in haste, puffing eagerly as he shifts around in place. fidgety sort, always moving, and eyes always roving. kaito could sneer, but instead swirls around the frothy beverage from the open can he’s holding. ❝ gah, yes! i do understand! when they call and call … like you said!! so distracting!! i can’t believe they think i can work under those circumstances!

     i know you want your car, people, but i hafta to fix it first!!

i mean they’re the one who smashed it, now lemme take the time to do what i need to do! yeesh!!! ❞

paces around a few laps back and forth, acting more a caged tiger in within the fenced premises than an active participant. a willing employee. finishes off the first can too quickly, tossing it aside to pick up later on a trash haul. already beelining towards the stacked set of tires where the other five cans sit rung together by plastic at their tops. cracks one off and open, finishing off his cigarette with a few good puffs to go before grabbing some another cigarette to fill his need for hand to mouth fixation.

❝ gaaah, i’m so tired too. i just wanna sleep! but we have six more cars lined up this week. some are just oil changes, but two are major electrical and bodywork. diagnostics alone can take all day if it’s really fucked up. ❞

the energy in this garage is palpable. seven wants to capture it, slap a lid on the jar, give it a few vigorous shakes, and poof! it’s out into the world again, but this time, it’s going faster, stronger. what would kaito do if he got riled up enough? he’s practically yelling already. what would it look like if he lost it?

not like seven particularly wants to be around when that happens.

kaito reminds him a little of zen, actually. a little of zen, a little of yoosung, a little of himself. the faces swirl together, until he’s in his old house with his maid. until he’s closing his eyes to the cacophony of voices. until his lungs are full to bursting with homesickness. he lost his family. lost his found family. now he’s lost-and-found amal.

“i’m pretty handy with cars, if you want me to do the oil changes.” the melancholy disappears from his face, and he rocks back and forth from where he’s perched. “i used to have two-three-four baby cars, and i did the maintenance myself. i wanted to get a tesla baby! but i didn’t get paid for my last job, so i couldn’t.” there’s a millisecond of pause before seven continues with, “but!!!” oh, he almost spilled his soda. “you can’t ask what kind of work i do!”

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failured  /  seven.

      ( OH  ,  you  play  this  too  well  .  live  in  the  present  with  ghosts  and  memories  of  past  members  ,  all  the  same  but  never  remembering  you  ,  never  quite  the  same  ,  and  you  wonder  when  this’ll  END  .  you  wish  that  it  would  ,  hatred  ,  disgusting  and  putrid  boiling  in  the  chasm  in  your  chest  ,  every  time  you  open  the  app  ,  you’re  reminded  time  and  time  again  —  your  fate  is  bound  for  you  .  

      every  choice  ,  even  the  ones  you  make  ,  are  no  deterrent  for  whatever  smiling  god  that  looks  down  ‘pon  you  ,  even  if  you’d  choose  luciel  over  and  over  with  gun  to  your  head  saying  you  couldn’t  ,  you’d  choose  him  .  but  they  LAUGH  AT  your  pitiful  and  futile  struggle  against  the  current  that  brings  you  back  to  whatever  route  they ��please  ,  because  …  even  now  ,  you  can’t  do  anything  .  )

     THERE’S  a ��sigh  to  tumble  from  young  ceo’s  mouth  ,  picking  up  phone  that  lets  out  buzzes  in  the chatroom  .  it’s  more  like  chore  ,  mina  finds  ,  to  throw  on  this  facade  she’s  forced  to  choose  ,  but  she  can  admit  to  the  smile  curling  upon  her  face  .

       seven  himself  ,  enigma  as  he  may  be  ,  still  seems  so  far  away  .  so  close  yet  an  arm’s  distance  away  as  always  :  so  finds  herself  playing  it  the  best  way  she  CAN  ,  molding  this  vacant  vessel  of  a  personality  into  whatever  she  deems  as  fit   .

mina  : i did not come to see — god  seven - oh - seven himself , no i did not !!! that’s for suree !! mina  :  jk obviously . i’m not that fcking dumb!!! mina : i came to see  you  !!

         she  typed  ‘  you  ‘  ,  and  for  once  ,  when  she  sends  it  OUT  ,  it  pops  up  as  it  did  in  chat  bubble  ,  and  finds  herself  pleasantly  surprised  .  small  ,  ghost  of  a  smile  curls  ‘pon  her  LIPS  ,  and  as  she  decides  to  push  her  luck  further  ,  sends  one  last  message  —  maybe  this  one  will  go  through  ,  as  intended  .  maybe  this  game  will  play  in  her  favor  for  once  . 

mina :  … hope you ate , today , seven.

that shouldn’t be allowed.

the way she types... sending more than one text, the typos, the charm. she isn’t allowed to type like that. she shouldn’t be allowed to type like that. maybe this time, it’s different. seven gnaws at the microphone, and soon moves to his chip-stained fingertips. gnaw, gnaw, gnaw. like he’s a wild animal, a twitchy squirrel unused to the new environment. he stuffs his cheeks full of information and runs. looks up, head darting, movements that are too quick to be real. 

he sucks in breath through clenched teeth, one hand darting out to a desk drawer with assorted band-aids. there are more wrappers in there than there should be. a cluttered house makes for a cluttered mind. why can she type like that?

707: omg!!!!

it’s one-handed as he fumbles to wrap the bandage round his nail.

707: I feel so honoured lolol

he even gives her an hourglass for her trouble. ding! it pops up on the screen.

707: Of course, I ate the greatest of greatest meals!!! 707: It 707: was 707: the 707: fabled combination......

he’s got the bandage fastened properly now, and he heaves a sigh of relief, already pushing the headphone wire past his lips.

707: Dr. Pepper and his sidekick Honey Buddha! 707: U should eat balanced meals too Mina 707: Be uber-healthy like me ♡