#son.......

[dendromancer]

this IS my last straw and i fucking hate it thanks

[lunetual]

JUNHYEOK ✧ (220526) M Countdown

[onehitdrcgon]

Look @ him....

[choochoomotherslagger]

in order, bottom to top: probably, yes also shut up, and ........ did you forget i’m a decepticon??

i don’t remember what you’re talking about but i’m pretty sure i did it

[saintmarcy]

practice of a sad contemplative boy while listening to sad contemplative music

[aiyic]

@cozening gave aigis flowers ! from an old meme. 

 you love flowers ; there’s something beautiful in the way they grow; you saw a tiny white flower poking through the cracks of pavement the other day, and was so profoundly struck with emotion that you felt you couldn’t describe, at all. you spent hours pouring over flower language when you were younger - all the kinds you could get your hands on, learning. you like that thing humanity does, giving meaning to mostly meaningless things. it’s charming.

 so when akira shows up with a bouquet of flowers, you cannot help the smile that creeps onto your face. normally, you have to force the smile, but this one comes naturally, without your permission. it hands them to you. you wish you could bend your head, press your nose into them and smell them, but the weight of them in your hands, and the bright and beautiful colours will have to do. it’s more than enough. 

 but what’s more important is the meaning you’re getting from them. not the flowers themselves, but the gesture, the bright colours, picked carefully. akira is a florist, you know that much. so the flowers it chose must have some kind of meaning, even if it’s just he thought they looked pretty. you know, for sure, that these flowers will wilt, but... 

 it’s like the people. you learned this years ago. you are eternal, and humanity are flowers; crushed on the earth, crumbling with age, broken by cruel hands. you cannot stop time. you cannot stop the clock from ticking. but that makes the flowers no less beautiful in the time you have to take care of them. 

you dart into the back of your apartment, pour water into a vase, and put the flowers in carefully, before you trot back out, blink owlishly at akira, and smile at it again, putting as much warmth as you can into it. you put the vase down on the side, and pull his head down against your shoulder, slot your arms round his shoulders, and press a soft kiss to the side of his temple.

 “thank you, akira-kun.” you’re no good with words, so you hope the feelings - how grateful you are for this, how you’ll treasure these flowers for as long as they last, how you want to help him for as long as you can - come across in the raw emotion of your voice.

[kikuism]

The source of his problems—and all of his pleasure—