“My new husband, I take it. Or are we boyfriends?” The mission brief was clear that they’re to infiltrate a hotel intended solely for romantic ( and private ) getaways. Seven accepted on the condition that he be paired with a complete stranger; he’s not about to invite intimacy, fake or otherwise, with anyone he’s already familiar with. ( It’s gotta be someone he’s not attached to; someone he can walk away from after ).     The smile he offers is bright and easy and thoughtless, and he’s slipping into his 707 persona before he knows it. “I’m Seven and I really hope you don’t snore, ‘cause we’re about to spend a lotta nights together.”

   “We can’t be together.” Flatly spoken, like he’s throttled the life out of any emotion that might’ve coloured the words ( and oh, the emotions he’s feeling-- they scorch. They burn almost bright enough to make him reconsider ).     “I don’t want you like that.”    The lie tastes bitter on his tongue. He could’ve been honest-- the agency doesn’t permit personal lives. Neither do Seven’s enemies. ( His throat’s raw from screaming away the nightmares of Yuri riddled with bullet holes ). But Yuri would’ve pinned him with those stormy eyes and declared that he didn’t give a shit, that he wasn’t afraid of any dumb assassin. Seven can hear it in his head, the way Yuri would say it.    He can’t splinter their building relationship with the truth, but he can crush it with a lie.

   “I’m ready for the sweet release of death. Failing that, a nap sounds good.” Today has been long. Lengthy. Eternal. He actually suspects it was more like a week, rolled up into a ball and stuffed into one single never-ending day of work. His brain itches. He turns an imploring, blurry gaze on Neku. “Gimme your lap, I need a semblance of human affection.” 

Icebreakers I

   A ludicrous amount of dedication has gone into this particular prank, but it seems all those nights of waking up to ( stealthily ) sprinkle water on Saeran’s keyboard have paid off. He spent a day last week to set this up while Saeran was out. He carefully dismantled the keyboard, sliding away the top covering and pouring in a line of seeds between the keys. With the cover affixed back in place, the prank was hidden. Nourished. Coaxed to fruition.    Seven really is a genius, he congratulates himself as he leans back in his seat to watch his twin discover the wispy shoots of grass sprouting between his computer keys. Genius.

REPOST, DON’T REBLOG. BOLD EVERYTHING YOUR MUSE HAS DONE:

TAGGED BY:@interimplexa

TAGGING:  all of you.

BROKEN A BONE | GOTTEN STITCHES | HAD A NEAR DEATH EXPERIENCE | KILLED SOMEONE | TRIED AND FAILED TO KILL SOMEONE | INVENTED SOMETHING | BEEN HUNG OVER | KISSED SOMEONE  | SLOW-DANCED | BEEN IN A LONG-TERM RELATIONSHIP | HAD SEX | HAD SEX AND REGRETTED IT | HAD A ONE-NIGHT STAND | HAD A THREESOME | EXPERIMENTED WITH THEIR SEXUALITY | HAD A KID | GOTTEN MARRIED | SELF-HARMED | TRAVELED TO ANOTHER COUNTRY | BEEN IN A PLAY | RECEIVED AN INHERITANCE | BEEN IN A CAR WRECK | LOST A LOVED ONE |  BEEN DUMPED  | DUMPED SOMEONE | SMOKED | GOTTEN HIGH | BEEN SLIPPED SOMETHING IN THEIR FOOD/DRINK  | WON A CONTEST| WON AN ELECTION | JOINED A SPORTS TEAM | GONE SKYDIVING | GONE HUNTING | BEEN IN A BAND | HAD A JOB | BEEN FIRED | BEEN IN A WEDDING PARTY | OWNED A PET | SEEN A GHOST | SKIPPED CLASS/WORK | LEARNED AN INSTRUMENT  | GOTTEN A NOTICEABLE SCAR | SUED SOMEONE | BEEN ROBBED | BEEN MUGGED | BEEN KIDNAPPED | BEEN SEXUALLY ASSAULTED | BEEN BRAINWASHED/HYPNOTIZED | GONE MORE THAN ONE DAY WITHOUT EATING | HAD A RECURRING NIGHTMARE | BEEN BULLIED | BULLIED SOMEONE | SEEN SOMEONE DIE | ATTEMPTED SUICIDE | BEEN TIED/CHAINED UP | SHOT SOMEONE | STABBED SOMEONE | SAVED SOMEONE’S LIFE | CHEATED ON SOMEONE | BEEN CHEATED ON | HAD BEEN A STALKER | BEEN BETRAYED | WAS A TRAITOR | BEEN IN A FIGHT | BEEN ARRESTED | BEEN TO A FUNERAL | HAD SURGERY | BROKEN SOMEONE’S TRUST | GOTTEN A PIERCING | GOTTEN A TATTOO | USED A FAKE NAME | BEEN TORTURED | TORTURED OTHERS | BEEN ABUSED | BEEN BLACKMAILED | HAD AN ATTEMPT ON THEIR LIFE | GOTTEN AWAY WITH A CRIME | GONE ON A ROAD TRIP | BEEN IN LOVE

interimplexa replied to your post: update, still in final fantasy xv hell, not likely...

{ honestly, he initially didn’t seem like my type at all but the more i learn about him, the more i love him and yeah, he’s my son now. :’) and he will aggressively be a ball of sunshine ‘til Vincent loves him }

abandnment:

   A breath catches in his throat. Seven wonders if he’ll ever stop being awed when Saeran willingly acquiesces to spend time with him. Or when Saeran displays interest in things. Or when Saeran does anything at all, ever. ( Seven regards his bother with the level of wonderment one might direct toward a fallen star-- calamitous, shattered, but beautiful and bright and here against all odds ).    When he turns to smile at Saeran, it’s brief and faltering but joyous.    “I don’t have any carrots for snowman noses-- or any vegetables at all, for that matter. So I figure we can just use chips or something.” He’s already rummaging around for thick gloves and his extra hoodie, subconsciously grinning all the while. “I do have cat ears we can put on ‘em, though!”

believinghxpe:

   Huh. Not the worst reaction he’s ever inspired-- folk have been known to fix Seven with a vague, puzzled expression as if half-curious about the direction of his thoughts and yet half-afraid to ask ( but Seven’s used to that ). He returns the stranger’s smile easily enough, falling quite effortlessly into his carefree persona.     “Of course it’s true! Unless your cat tells you otherwise.” Here, he slants a fond look at the kitten nestled on the stranger’s lap. ( Seven’s automatically fond of any cat, whether he knows them or not ).