Howon throughout the ages.

Infinity, recursion and exponentiation and paradoxes – manmade forever – and like all things manmade, it all comes to an end. Myungsoo, though, he goes on and on. INFINITE ends and Myungsoo deals with the aftermath.

He chases after ghosts, grasping for something beyond his reach.

Being the God of Causality and Time was honestly more exhausting than he thought it would be. At least Woohyun has a cool chair to go with it.

Myungsoo meets the repairman for his building one day and he’s kinda sure that ‘accidentally’ breaking things isn’t something one should be proud of. Howon, bless his soul, doesn’t seem to mind.

Myungsoo chases sunsets and new beginnings.

Roots before branches.

(they were philosophers and pariahs, artists and arsonists, saints and sinners — spiraling down an eternal game of annihilation)   Warning(s): Introspect

Howon’s mother had always reminded him that love can be such a powerful feeling; it can give strength to those who have none, hope from despair and faith beyond belief.  

He looks at Woohyun, and he feels anchored — no longer lost.

At sixteen, Woohyun is naïve, sweet and gets his heart broken. At twenty-six, Woohyun is jaded, constantly pissed off and heartless — considering that his new boss is the same jerk who broke it in the first place.

Howon is a closet star wars nerd/deadbeat barista. Myungsoo is a really, really good-looking customer. Sunggyu disapproves. Rated T for language.

On a solitary, fortuitous Busan night, Myungsoo finds himself the owner of a small, red journal belonging to a displaced Korean teenager, Gyu. In the midst of Metro Manila’s garishly mechanical glare, eighteen-year-old Kim Sunggyu narrates his tale through the pages written in ten-peso ballpoint ink and Myungsoo rediscovers his life by dis

Maybe it was a good idea for him to look away from the porch—or something, because Myungsoo is pretty sure that ogling your neighbor as he changes isn’t something normal people do. Maybe. Tags: Language.

Sunggyu plays. Howon dances.

Jiyong’s happiness became Seungri’s happiness and Seungri’s happiness became Jiyong’s happiness and that was all that mattered.  

They’re all just manufactured dolls waiting to be cast aside.   Warning(s): Contains strong language.

Or how Myungsoo, twenty-three year-old professional photographer, just wanted to experiment with his new camera and ended up falling in love with Lee Howon.

Howon’s always loved the smell of cinnamon.

Or when Kim Myungsoo almost burns the apartment (and Howon) down trying to impress a hamster with his “cooking” skills.