PHONING... ID: ENHYPEN

PHONING... 𓂃 ࣪˖ ID: ENHYPEN

genre key : (o) one-shot . fluff (f) . angst (a) . humor (h) . comfort (c) . (s) series . + personal favorites (♡)

CALLER ID: enhypen.

✧ wip.

CALLER ID: lee heeseung.

✧ crushcrushcrush. (a)

✧ while you were sleeping. (f)

CALLER ID: park jongseong.

✧ wip.

CALLER ID: sim jaeyun.

✧ rainy days. (f)

CALLER ID: park sunghoon.

✧ other universes? (f)

CALLER ID: kim sunwoo.

✧ wip.

CALLER ID: yang jungwon.

✧ wip.

CALLER ID: nishimura riki.

✧ wip.

જ⁀➴♡ phone in ᝰ.ᐟ

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀“⠀⠀BUZZ ! ⠀BUZZ ! ⠀BUZZ ! ⠀”

( — YELLOWJACKETS . ) TEASER

warnings. ♱ (18+). lengthy series. gore. horror. cannibalism. cult activity. college au. swearing. vomit. humor. mildly suggestive. drug use. hallucinations and derealization. no smut. main character death. side character death.

The heart of winter beats still as the sound of hard breaths echo. Steady as he focuses, inhaling and exhaling to push himself to his limits.

The kind of darkness creeping that you only find thousands of miles from the warm, safe home you’re accustomed to. His eyes attempt to adjust as he’s hit repeatedly with the foliage he’s pushing through.

Light filters through boreal woods, giving him brief glimpses of the distance ahead.

Bare feet flying across snow-covered ground, branches lashing at filthy, blood-smeared arms and legs. A scream itches at the back of his throat but he lets nothing out.

Each gasp is a spectral apparition in the freezing air as screams of anguish and hunger echo through the woods.

Occasionally, a gust of wind sends a flurry of snowflakes against the crisp air and right into his face.

He bolts down an incline, when sudden he cries out, falling to his knees. A broken branch pierces his foot, nearly clean through to the other side.

Gritting his teeth, he rips it out and regains his footing, willing himself forward. Pushing through the pain.

Whatever you do— don’t let them catch you.

The woods abruptly give way to a large clearing surrounded by skeletal white birch. The boy halts to a stop at the edge of the glade, breath catching in his throat as he processes what he’s looking at.

Dozens of eyes carved into the surrounding trees. Around them, talismans hang from the branches, fashioned from bough and bone. Suddenly without warning, the overwhelming instinct to scream takes over as he lets out a strangled noise.

The air is filled with eerie, inhuman wails and as his own scream finally adds to the chorus of chaos— the woods fall completely silent.

Almost.

Somewhere behind him, a branch cracks, snapping him out of his terrified trance as he remembers where he is. Gritting his teeth and attempting to ignore the throbbing pain in his leg, he bolts.

And this time, they let him go.

His body pale in the fading light as he flies across the glade until suddenly— he disappears.

The snow-covered ground opening up beneath him, appearing to swallow him whole.

A figure in animal pelts emerges from the tree line, his face shrouded by the hood of his rough and matter coat. Breath haggard, he approaches the edge of the deep hole that was previously concealed by cover of snow.

A tiger trap.

As he kneels at the edge, peering down through the jagged maw of branches snapped by the runner’s fall, he stares down unmoving.

Splayed at the bottom of the pit. His limbs once swift were bent at terrible, unnatural angles, body imapled on thick wooden spikes.

The bloodied points protrude through his chest, his thigh, his face— now nothing but a gory mess from chin to brow. A small and familiar silver charm glints around her.

The hunter stands, seemingly satisfied. Then, as the furs of his coat part, revealing the tattered and torn soccer shirt.

જ⁀➴♡ phone in ᝰ.ᐟ

ETERNAL SUNSHINE. ⭒ TEASER

Long before when you’d known him, you were sure you’d already known love. In full bloom, completely hard to miss. An edge that you trip over and over each time without fail, like the pulse knows the tip of the blade before the cut.

The blood rushing to greet its serrated edge. It wasn’t with him, though— maybe that was the issue in the end.

When you have to choose between something that’s good and what’s right: more than likely you’ll go with what’s right.

Your relationship with Wonbin was right. He was everything that you needed, who were you to ask for anything more?

Maybe that was why you had grown so distant. To realize that you didn’t love him the way you loved him was a world-shattering realization.

With Theo, you’d seen the sun in every possible gradation of light; you would hear the birdsong beyond the rudimentary call and answer every single time for the simple fact that it was him calling.

Those times that you could distinguish between each cadence as it quivers through the air. When you would get so cold sometimes that it burns and he would give you his jacket without a second thought, like some sort of natural instinct. When the heat gets so bad your teeth start to shake from how harsh you’re biting down and he’d give you his fan while making fun of the circles under your eyes. It was easy to distinguish yet so scary to know— you should have opened up your arms to take this dark thing into the fold.

You should have taken this love and nurtured it— but you didn’t. Instead, you ran away for what’s right.

Wonbin was right. Your friends and family loved him, he treated you right for better or worse and you never argued. He had become that one person who you could rarely speak with and always find him right where you left him. You carried his smile with you like a talisman, as his arm constricted around you in a suffocating grip and you’d laugh along with his friends even when it didn’t feel good. Not as good as his.

For whatever reason, his presence in your life seemed to bring the promise of better days. So for that— you ran away from him— the good in hopes for something better. A newer future.

⭒ home. ➔ masterlist.

PHONING... 𓂃 ࣪˖ ID: BOYNEXTDOOR

genre key : (o) one-shot . fluff (f) . angst (a) . humor (h) . comfort (c) . (s) series . + personal favorites (♡)

CALLER ID: BOYNEXTDOOR.

✧ wip.

CALLER ID: park sungho.

✧ wip.

CALLER ID: lee sang-hyeok.

✧ wip.

CALLER ID: myung jaehyun.

✧ wip.

CALLER ID: han dongmin.

✧ wip.

CALLER ID: kim donghyun .

✧ wip.

CALLER ID: kim woonhak.

✧ wip.

જ⁀➴♡ phone in ᝰ.ᐟ

hayyyy… 😘😘ur new theme is so cutesy btw im going to bake it at a crisp 400°f for 10-12 minutes and decorate it lovingly while look at me by twice plays and then eat it all.

MY LOVE HAS RETURNED FROM THE WAR !!! thank you bff i tried very hard on it so i hope you enjoy the sweet, velvety taste of my blood sweat and tears (˶ > ₃ < ˶)♡

Lovers’ Roulette. ⭒ TEASER

The way grief blooms can only be compared to something like a flower: a heart-shaped wound that can never fully close, held together with a thin protective layer of stardust gathered through out time.

For grief to be unexpressed love: in its’ most painful yet pure form, always wanting more.

The only thing that cuts through love.

But what of the people who cause grief?

Those who stampede their way through, never bothering to look back toward the fault lines they’d left behind. The heartless abandoning the rest of them in the hourglass of their past and broken memories.

There are rules to these kinds of people.

Never think where you are or what comes next— let go of the need to know and everything tends to fall into place.

Know that it is okay to dream, to allow your higher self to take care of the rest as you wash the blood off of your hands. This is only temporary.

And if something— someone— is calling you, answer.

Even if it bursts out of your chest like a trapped bird set free, you must follow it.

When all of your instincts are kicking and fighting against you like a wild caged animal, allow those hands to calm the tremors and let the light in.

It may be the only time you’ll be able to bask in it.

There is always something between you and love. A closed door, an endless corridor. Flames burning higher and higher until they cover you whole.

Maybe in some universe you are under the lamppost at dusk, he can see you across the road, arms above your head waving hello with a smile.

Is it summer or are you still in spring? It wouldn’t matter then.

In his chest, something crashes hard as a head-on collision.

But in reality, you grow further away like gravity turned on its side, he is up, and you will always be down.

The feeling of falling you had forgotten and tried to bury beneath the years has reared its’ head.

“Do you see me still, my dear? Do you trust yourself now?”

“Does it make you smile to know you were right about me all along? Or somewhere deep down, does it kill you?”

⭒ home. ➔ masterlist.