(in love with you) (bursting at the seams to talk to you) (heart teeming chest aching) hey how are you

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@un-love
(in love with you) (bursting at the seams to talk to you) (heart teeming chest aching) hey how are you
Kaoru Yamada, Japanese
'City Lights"
wanting to kiss someone is just. like. what do you mean i am experiencing something akin to hunger? what do you mean i can feel this as an actual tactile ache? it is not "i want" like "i want a bike," it is "i want" like i am found wanting. you can want it so much you can force your own pupils to dilate. i'm seasick about it. this is a thing we evolved. this is something that we can physically crave.
sometimes I feel sad I haven’t met my person yet because it’s like where have you been? I’ve lived so much life without you now. had so many experiences I used to imagine we’d do together. I wish we could’ve been clean slates for each other. I’m a bit rough round the edges now. I hope that’s okay. maybe we just need this time to become the right people for each other.
From Wherever you are I love you and take your time
i miss you 🤎 thinking of you all the time. how are you?
i miss you i miss youuu. barely keeping my head above water, and i'm sorry for being so absent
let's talk?
"You looked cool earlier, but now you look like the 'Home Alone' burglar"
(Seungkwan to S.Coups)
i love when someone says “that’s so you” it’s nice knowing i have a little vibe of my own
i know it's hard. but i so firmly believe the strongest antidote to loneliness is reaching out first. and continuing to reach out. again and again and again. excise any scrap of shame you hold about being the person who texts first or pitches the plan or asks to get lunch. everyone is tired and busy and struggling. and afraid of feeling unwanted and unimportant. don't let the people you love feel that way. reach out first. don't be a ghost in your own life.
i like the idea of us waiting for each other. i like the idea of the feeling that waits to remind me it’s still around every morning is sticking to you too, that it’s a piece of each other’s love, so our souls will know as soon as our paths intersect. then, it’ll all make sense, and everything until then can just be. can be simple and beautiful and with less pain. i don’t want you to hurt. i’m trying not to hurt at all, but i miss you. delicately, i love you. i crave you. i can’t wait to know you. i’ll stop the rush. i already know where you aren’t.
I seriously just wanna play board games with my friends… Like I want everyone I know to rent a lake house together and spend the middle of the day swimming and the evenings playing a bunch of board games. That’s all
when richard siken wrote "sometimes you get so close to someone you end up on the other side of them" and ocean vuong wrote "i miss you more than i remember you" and taylor swift said "and i wake with your memory over me" and emily palermo wrote "i wanted to be loved so desperately that my fingers shook with it" and florence + the machine said "i love you so much i'm going to let you kill me" and robert desnos wrote "i have dreamed of you so much that you are no longer real" and franz kafka wrote "i can't think of any greater happiness than to be with you all the time" and mitski said "all I need darlin' is a life in your shape" and and and
are we all afraid of love? are we all afraid of the vision, of its scape, of its forefront, of its detail, of its grime, of its mystery, of its torture, its mouthwatering beauty?
are we all afraid to undress, to return, to unravel, to choose nudity?
are we all afraid to open new jars, to crack eggs, to break plates, to check expiration dates?
are we all afraid to watch movies, to reach for blankets on top shelves, to hear popcorn in the microwave, to lean into a familiar frame, to be embraced when barefaced?
are we all afraid to sleep over, to have dreams, to lose them and not miss their scenes, to anticipate his scent instead, his hands, his routine?
are we all afraid of the family, to meet them, to love his little sister and nearly crack beneath his mother’s gaze… a gaze that holds you, to see every childhood photo, to feel the carpet in the bedroom that saw his earliest years between your toes?
are we all afraid of vacations, to stand side-by-side in security lines, to rest our head on a lover’s shoulder, to sit in plastic chairs and share snacks at your gate, to get lost in a city and not care because he’s there and smiling and laughing and catching every inkling of your scared before it can become?
are we all afraid of music, of finding out his favorite songs, knowing the one he hoped to hear at prom, knowing the one that reminds him of you, ones he keeps coming back to and chasing for that damn melody because the sky opens when he hears it? but now there’s you, opening his sky.
are we all afraid of forgetting, of forgetting the texture of his wet hair, how he retrieves eggshells from the bowl, his first touch in the morning before it travels, the curves in your name when he writes it, when you can see your name in his mouth before he says it because his eyes always change, always soften?
are you afraid of the you that he’ll keep, the secrets in his phone, understanding every expression, every dip in your tone, every tilt of your head, knowing the people you’d rearrange your day for, the trees you watch through every season, the real meanings behind your tattoos, the words that empty your head, the words that part your legs?
are we all afraid? are we all praying? are we all awake and in bed? are we all in between something? are we all gripping too tightly? are we all soaking, drenched, towels around our necks? are we all pierced? are we all itchy? are we all wide-eyed? are we all suppressing? did we all scream in our cars? are we all high off caffeine? are we all pretending this could be enough? are we all supplementing? are we all afraid because what we want isn’t just known but existing in our eye lines? are we all afraid that we won’t feel anything when we try to touch it? are we all fucking afraid?
smooshing your face between my hands and giving you a million little kisses until you're all happy and giggly and giddy and blushy and loved
Pink forget-me-nots growing in the shape of a heart
Im not compatible with a single person on the entire planet
— afternoon | kmg
mingyu x f!reader
a/n: i wrote this last august and forgot about it. self indulgent asf bc my period is a horror story 💢
“good game, guys. i’m gonna log out now.” putting his headphones aside, mingyu was greeted by complete silence in the house. it had been an hour since he left the bedroom to let you sleep in peace. the week of your period was always a hard time for you. hard is an understatement, really. he couldn't physically understand how you felt but the first time he saw you cry out in pain and struggle to walk yourself to the kitchen, he had decided to be there for you without you ever having to ask for his help; that’s the least he could do after all. the little widgets on his phone notify him of the approaching doom every month without fail, and one might even say he’s as prepared as you now (maybe more).
as he approaches the living room, his ears perk up. he opens the door carefully, and catches you wincing as you try to sit up. you look even worse than how he left you, somehow. sunken eyes and disheveled hair, there really wasn’t any way to romanticize this pain. “why didn’t you call me?”, he whispers and immediately springs into the practiced routine he’s got down. you're too far gone to protest as he props up your pillows, gets you a reheated hot water bottle and orders you to open your mouth as he makes you take your prescribed pain meds. regaining some consciousness after feeling the burn of the hot bag on your skin, you can’t help but smile at the concerned expression on his face as he assesses you. the way his brows furrow and a little pout appears on his soft lips soothes some of the ache in your body.
“what are you smiling at?”, he asks. “you’re just so cute like this. worrying about me and all.” the look he gives you is one of fondness. it’s somewhat relieving for your boyfriend to see you talk like this, despite the state you’re in. he could tell how disoriented you were by the way you hadn’t met his eyes the whole day. “who said i’m worried?”, he says cheekily, before disappearing into the kitchen again.
“i don’t feel good; i think i’m going to throw up”, you call out from your new resting place on the couch, chewing on scraps from the kitchen for lunch. mingyu had asked you to move to the couch (read: carried you) so he could change the sheets and clean up the room a little. it still felt embarrassing to have him take care of you like this, but his kind eyes and kinder hands made you go along with whatever he said.
thinking back, you had tried to avoid seeing him the first few months after you started dating, for this very reason. he knew you were having a hard time with your diagnosis, so he never wanted to push you too much; until the day you had woken up in a pool of blood with him next to you on your bed. you had sobbed endlessly (from frustration, pain, embarrassment) before threatening to poke his eye out with a butter knife if he ever made fun of you for this. this was all very bizarre to your new boyfriend, who grew progressively more concerned for you after that. had someone made you feel bad for something like this before?
a head pokes around the door with a determined expression you could read extremely well. another wave of nausea rocked over your body. “don’t come close to me, kim mingyu. i haven’t showered since yesterday. i stink.” “but you don't know what i’m going to s—” he tries to go on but you cut him off. “the sound of the air conditioner is making my skin crawl.” “but-” “the fabric of my tshirt is touching my skin in the worst ways and the birds won’t stop fucking chirping outside the window and you- you’re here seeing me like this. i want to dig a life sized hole and bury myself in it right now. just go away, please.”
he’s careful when he comes closer to you and stops right before sitting on the couch. “baby, i promise you, nothing about you can disgust me. unless you do something unforgivable like putting milk first in my cereal bowl”, he says, and you finally look at him. success. “and i’ll leave you alone, if that’s what you want. but can i get you something else for the pain or a hot drink first?”
how could you say no to him when he looked at you like that? with those big brown eyes, trying his best to read your face. freshly washed bangs falling into his eyes, and his pretty hand outstretched towards you. your eyes get distracted by his tongue coming out to wet his bottom lip, a nervous habit of his you found adorable. in the split second between his question and your response, you imagined pulling him by the shirt and kissing him breathless. swatting away the (welcome) visual in your head, you let yourself fall against the soft cushions, the fight leaving your body. it's time you let somebody love you.
fin.
send me a tbz member + an mv: hyunjae and juyeon in maverick and trigger