not pictured: the restraints on robby's wrists ( ꈍᴗꈍ)

seen from Germany
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not pictured: the restraints on robby's wrists ( ꈍᴗꈍ)

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i want you to name it (i do) [kpop demon hunters]
pairing: zoey/rumi, with a splash of polytrix summary: Zoey shrugs. “Come do stuff with me. Or, watch me do stuff, which probably means we’re gonna do new stuff together, and you know that’s my favorite.” You smile and press a kiss right above her eyebrow. You do know that’s her favorite; the only thing Zoey loves more than experiencing life is watching you and Mira experience life with her. You find it miraculous, the way Zoey pulls joy from even the most mundane task. / or: zoey and rumi puzzle over a new song in their studio
//
It’s really a lazy day, even though you’re working. Mira would stop you if she were here, but she’s not, so you check in on any department that looks like it might need your help. They never need your help, honestly. Celine and Bobby usually have it covered, but you also have ideas and efficiencies and maybe just a general word of encouragement for the terrified interns in legal.
You have offered many things and no one has ever taken you up on it.
“You’re wandering again.”
Zoey doesn’t pop her head into the hallway, so you join her in the studio. She’s been here for hours, working on an earworm that you can fully develop once the hiatus is over. Knowing her, the earworm is now segmented into a few abstract collections of sounds.
You lean over the back of her chair, quickly perusing what is already a dizzying demo, partial vocal tracks mixed in with blips of synths. Zoey smells like the room, or the room smells like her—the sweet remnants of her hair product, the stale air that hasn’t yet filtered out because she doesn’t like opening doors, fake cheese from her precious American snacks. You glance over to the cupboard where they’re kept and make a mental note to order more.
Zoey pulls you down out of your halfhearted lean, adjusting the both of you until your chin can rest on the top of her head without digging in.
“I feel restless,” you concede. “No one will let me bother them.”
“Bother me. Always bother me.”
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too fat to drive a tractor now btw 😔
head in hands thinking about what stupid chomping sounds will could be making as he pretends to eat the smelling salts
i just love professor sycamore so much you guys 😭

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i always think to myself, yay! fieldwork! im going to take so many pictures for my blog! conveniently forgetting that 1) we're working in the rain 90% of the time which tends to disagree with electronics and 2) even when that's not the case we're usually in such a race against the tide that pulling the phone out to photograph things doesn't even cross my mind. and it's like this every year
he said 'get better taste in men and stop pulling for the gambler'