This is for my friends, whom I will never forget and who will always welcome me with a warm smile. This is for Jen, who reads me like an open book; This is for Sapphy, and I'm sure the hearts we type will bridge the gap that tears us apart; This is for Bluu, who makes me smile more than the sun.

Did you know that your eyes shine the brightest in the darkest night?

 psychedelic nostalgia contest

She promised him the blooming; he could only give pieces of his heart in return.

Jongin's world is surrounded by silence, and this doesn't change when the other is coming along the way.

Writing is the art of pain, and painting the art of yearning. (but in the end, they both awaited the rain to come.)

And when the boring air of routine presses heavily on your shoulders again, we’ll escape to our own neverland. (sets of drabbles and oneshots)

Myungsoo still had three years until he became an ordinary person. And indeed, he was far, far away in being one.

Myungsoo gets eyebags so heavy that they're worse than pimples. All because of something that lingers around the air and makes hard to breathe.

The elder chases memories, while the younger loses the sanity.

With every dream, he reached her just a bit more, and with every reality, he fell harder.

They barely knew each other, and yet, they're connected by heart.

Leaving is pain, and so is staying. Loving hurts, and so does the paper that cuts the skin. Love is grief, and so is letting go.

All they have is just an outline of their lives.

She was his lantern in the darkness that devoured him; He was the warm sun that melted the iced coat of her heart.

Sungyeol folds thousand paper cranes to get his wish fulfilled.

Lesson One: Reflections are deceptive.

His sanity has come to an end. His insanity, though, has just begun.

Heroes still exist; they just aren't wearing ridiculous clothes.

Sometimes, Sunggyu calls Woohyun "tree" because he reminds him of a real tree.

He dreamed of her in simple five minutes.

Because their ideal types don't belong to reality.

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Just like the Gaussian Blur-effect, their future was blurry. But they knew that it was the end.

Whenever she felt bad, he would be always there with a cup of coffee and an ear to listen.

When his mother left, he didn't know what to think. When his father committed suicide, he thought it would all stop. When he was alone, he believed they would stop the name-calling, their ridicules, their fists, their raids—their everything. But they didn't. He was paying for his deceased father's mistakes.

  Each and every single paper plane will find the way to her.

She was like a lonely flower in a garden – patiently waiting to be picked.

Their friendship was like the touch of a butterfly - precious and fragile. One wrong move and everything could break.

If it hurts this much, then it must be love.