Authored (70 fanfics)
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He already knows that the only one who’s brave enough to deal with his mental breakdowns is Junmyeon and he whimpers and grabs the older’s hands in a death grip, feeling his entire body shaking.
He deserves to cry.
The door to room 269 is shoved open and Daehyun walks in, nearly sobbing at the sight in front of him.
And for the first time in Kyungsoo's life, his wish doesn’t fade into thin air.
Green light hits the white covers and draws small patterns on Youngjae’s skin, and Daehyun breathes in and smiles. It feels like spring in his ribcage.
Jongdae smiles and tries to focus on breathing.
He knows he’ll be alright.
Because it’s all clearer now; he’s Zhang Yixing and Zhang Yixing means nothing without Kim Junmyeon next to him, nothing at all.
He knows things aren’t quite back to normal yet and that they still have a long way to go, but if there’s one thing they’ve established is that Seokjin like-likes Jungkook, and that’s not gonna change any time soon.
Cicadas drone on and the air conditioning’s on full force, huffing through the vents in the walls like a careful whisper.
He knows it’s not much and there’s still a lot of work to be done, but at least they’re talking to him now, and he’s willing to accept it.
It’s not the first time this happens; anxiety attacks visited Youngjae once a month at least, and every time they did Daehyun did his best to help Youngjae fight through them, because he promised to stick to him in sickness and in health, and he’ll stay true to his word, goddammit.
It’s a clear Sunday morning and they’re all sitting together when Jongup drops the question.
Junmyeon never really payed attention to the seasons, and it wasn’t his job anyway.
It’s not until 11PM that Junmyeon notices that Yixing’s not there.
The first time Daehyun sees him, it’s on the first day of twelfth grade.
Confetti falls down like rain and everything’s too bright and so incredibly loud for a change.
Zhang Yixing is made out of light and freedom and birds spreading their wings and flying away; it’s Junmyeon’s job to sit there and admire that about his husband, because he knows that he himself is made out of metal and salty ocean water, and those things are not even close to being as perfect as Zhang Yixing.
They adopted three times, and each and every time was its own different roller-coaster ride; but roller-coaster rides are fun as long as you have someone to hold on to.
Junmyeon’s not really good with words, but he knows his lips finish his stories for him, and he knows that Yixing understands. He always does.
Kyungsoo swallows and makes a nervous gurgling sound in the back of his throat, knowing that it’s too late to try and hide everything now- Jongin’s eyes dart from his wrist to the blood drops and the razor on the floor and back to his wrist, over and over again, and then he talks.
There are three things you should probably know about Yoo Youngjae: 1. He is prone to forgetting his keys inside his apartment, often choosing to stay at his (unbelievably stupid) best friends’, Moon Jongup, until the locksmith arrives to help . 2. He hates messes.
Daehyun is four. Youngjae is three. They both live in close, but not quite, neighborhoods in the outskirts of Seoul. The year is 1998, and their lives are about to change- probably for good- and it all starts when Daehyun hits Youngjae over the head with his lunchbox in preschool, and Youngjae starts to cry.
"Unique"; that’s exactly the word that fits Jang Hyunseung.
Sometimes, you need to have someone with the ability to see things that you consider to be out of sight.
A heart attack, Jongdae thought. A heart attack at such a young age.
Junmyeon has never been more proud in his entire life.