Authored (11 fanfics)
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It seemed that Minseok had acquired the terrible habit of awakening in the middle of the night, hot coffee brewed over stifling silence his only companion.
Where Jeongguk finds his way on trains, planes, buses and voicemails, over 9 countries and lands, back to home.
When I get out, I want to collect back all the moments that have slipped past others. Get my own hourglass ticking again Jongdae had two syllables to translate, scribbled black against white. He looked up to see that there was a figure tagged to that name, a figure and a pair of amber eyes.
In which Luhan is the quiet waiter who breaks out into soft songs at the diner every evening at 8, Minseok is the silent customer who never looks up nor pays attention to the performance that has everyone captivated dammit, Yixing is his comforting best friend and Chen is the hobo love guru :3
Vengeance is a queer thing. It starts and ends with the thirst for bloodshed, a need to exact crippling suffering. aka the story where a lo
For Kyungsoo, the name Jongin tasted of fizzling cherry soda against his tongue and bright summer smiles because Jongin was his cloud catcher, the one who tugged them down into his fingers.
Where Yoongi returns to the cafe by the corner to soothe away random chest pains (sugar is better than a doctor, seriously), there’s a secret chef that comes up with an interesting cake each day to suit his moods and then there’s Seokjin, the ever patient waiter who makes sure Yoongi finishes it all up before leaving.
They say that pain is shared, misery passed between careful, cupped hands and nightmares trapped in a glass jar. But Zitao only remembers white feathers held over his eyes each night instead of fear in stark black. He remembers, white feathers and the stifled screams of an angel.
Escape from nightmares and blinding darkness presented itself in lyrics and curling letters at 1 for Min Yoongi.
It was supposed to have been simple, just one meal for 12 people. Really, he should have been able to manage that what with all the cookbooks and internet sources he had referenced. What Joonmyeon had failed to take into account was his utter lack of skill in the kitchen and the problem with having 12 hyperactive kids (hardly) cramped in a tiny 10 by 7 metre space.
Where Yoongi pushes himself a little too hard, coping by splitting skin and tracing letters with metal against skin and Jimin knows it all too well.