yana⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ @moonstruckoras - Tumblr Blog

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊

DISCLAIMER: This post is an excerpt of my original work. Please refrain from sharing in other media/platforms. Do not use this post for any purposes without my permission. Reblog is allowed. Feedback is appreciated.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊

writing original sample #1:

Please don’t leave me. I’m scared what I’d do if I’m left alone.

The grip on his gray hoodie must have my imprinted fingernails, seeping into its cotton material. Two of my hands are more firmer than I anticipated. I pull him closer to me as the tears from my face damp onto his chest. Craving for air becomes so much harder. My throat is drying up, everything in my body is frozen in time.

I can’t hear what he is saying. Let alone, his inner thoughts.

Breathe in, breathe out.

But the air from my body is suffocating me like my room has no windows, door and a vent. His hands cuff my blanket, wrapping it around my shoulders like a poncho. I face up to see him. That face doesn’t say much, but his eyes are misty and dreadful. He moves my front hairs behind my ear. My eyes must be red, soaked and puffy. It burns. The palms of his hands circle around my head and my back. The warmth grows stronger but softer. And it’s not because of the blanket.

I don’t understand. Why are you being so…kind to me?

I wait for him to say something, but he stays quiet and proceeds to keep me warm. No more running tears at this point. Just me processing and comprehending on what I’ve been holding to myself. I fear another panic is arising soon.

Then, a melodic sound disrupts my train of thoughts and feelings. Could be a ringtone? Or a neighbor blasting music from their room? The hum’s volume turns up louder and softer. I start to realize something so wonderful, so beautiful. His singing, a melodic voice that showers comfort in my ears.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊

wonchux

i love you jungwon, heeseung, jay, jake, sunghoon, sunoo, and ni-ki 🙁🫳🏻

enhypendata

🐈‍⬛ 🎈 🏁 🎂

enhypendata

ENHYPEN for DAZED Korea (May, 2026)

enhypendata

[ENHYPEN] The Cover for 2026 MAY Issue of <DAZED> KOREA 〈DAZED〉’s 18th anniversary with ENHYPEN. On a season in bloom, the first page unfolds with Prada.

sunishake

I will forever be in denial

suhstaste

he woke up today and decided to be the CUTEST PERSON EVER.

miss him my babyy

hoonie

cutie heeseung (1/∞)

hxxsxxng

comforting heeseung after a nightmare ᥫ᭡. wc: 398

heeseung never cries. this is why the quiet, muffled sniffling coming from beside you was disorienting. he was shaking under the sheets, and was clearly trying to suppress his noises. you’ve seen him clingy, possessive, obsessive in ways that should probably concern you more than they do. you’ve seen the look in his eyes when other men so much as glance at you for too long. you know, with deep certainty, that if you ever tried to leave him, really leave him, he wouldn’t let you get very far.

but this? finding him with his cheeks damp and flushed in a deep red hue in the middle of the night made you short-circuit.

“heeseung.”

he goes stiff immediately, turning his face away. “go back to sleep.”

“hey.” you sit up, reaching for his jaw, turning him back toward you. his eyes are red. there’s still a tear tracking down his cheek and he looks almost ashamed, which made your heart ache. “what happened?”

“you left.” his voice is rough. “in my dream. you just - you were gone and you wouldn’t look at me and i couldn’t…” he stops himself, tightening his jaw. “it was stupid.”

“it wasn’t stupid.”

“i know you wouldn’t.” he says it like he’s trying to convince himself. “i know.”

you don’t say anything. you just pull him into you, both arms around him, pressing his face into your neck, and you feel the moment the tension breaks. he exhales, shaky and long, and grips the back of your shirt in relief.

“i’m here,” you murmur into his hair. “i’m right here, baby.”

his arms tighten.

“you feel that?” you press his hand flat against your chest, over your heartbeat. “that’s yours. all of this is yours. i’m not going anywhere.”

a wrecked sound against your neck that he’d never let you hear if he were fully himself yet.

you slowly run your fingers through his hair, pressing your lips to his temple, his cheek, the corner of his jaw, each one a small reminder how you will never leave.

“you’re so good to me,” you whisper. “you take such good care of me. i’m not going anywhere.”

he pulls back just enough to look at you. eyes still glassy, hair a mess, yet, he looked beautiful “promise,” he says. not really a question.

you cup his face in both hands. “promise.”