fullsunisms
129 posts
Latest Posts by fullsunisms
there's something sacred in your existence
wish i could name a flower after you
THE FIRSTFRUIT ALBUM BY MARK LEE
when i was but a child i whispered my heart’s desire to a fleeting star that crossed the sky on a summer night.
at fifteen i let go of the belief that dreams could ever come true.
yet when adulthood found me you appeared—like magic—and rekindled my faith in dreams.
now i know without a doubt, that you are the answer to that little girl’s wish, long ago cast into the night sky.
i'll remember to love you taught me how
you are so cute, soobinie! ♡
episode one of ‘your favorite’s favorite’ is out now.
i love you.
love you so much i could literally die
home = 숩
i gotta praise the lord
we never see the sun at same time but i always feel the warm when i look at you
i'm not as active as I'd like to be, but i still love my little sunshine every day. happy birthday my love, I wish you all the happiness in this world 🩷
my peter pan
A while ago, in a house with a basement crammed with books, an old sofa, and a table with seven seats, the first meeting of what would then be called the midnight dream society began. The meetings were at midnight, always on the seventh day of the week, and the sole purpose was to dream. They were children passionate about dreams, about books, about making dreams into realities. They talked about what they would dream if they could bring dreams to life, they lay on the carpet after classes and slept together, with their heads always close in the hope of sharing the same dream and not having to return to real life.
On one of the nights when they plunged into dreams with their bodies stuck in the real world, something went wrong in the world of dreams. They didn't yet know that they hadn't been able to wake up normally the next morning and that the books and dreams they loved to share would turn into the scene of their greatest agonies, where their nightmares would emerge instead of their dreams. The old sofa was no longer the cozy place it used to be, and the giant table in the middle of the room seemed more like an altar for sacrifices than a place to create happy memories. The place that was once colorful and cheerful was quickly overtaken by the color gray; the world outside had become a maze full of screams that the boys had only heard in their nightmares, never shared with anyone. The walls whispered in latin, "fuga ex somniis malis," and on top of a cupboard, a roll of red thread gleamed.
lonely harmonies broken melodies.
🫗
spicy.
meio que te amo mt
haechan was the first person who make me feel safe and sound when i was feeling lost and empty. haechan was the first person who make me dream again when i was thinking everything was lost 🤎
haechan was the first person who make me feel safe and sound when i was feeling lost and empty. haechan was the first person who make me dream again when i was thinking everything was lost 🤎
MY WORLD.