#ddokddokyoung

[dxprxvityx]

.CLOSED

@ddokddokyoung

         ” thirty... wait, no... fourty... “ that was one of the worst questions she could’ve been asked. ( how many tattoos do you have ? ) counting even the smallest and most simple ones scattered around corners of her body, it was nearly impossible to keep count. do you wanna count them ? the thought of spilling such blunt question crossed her mind, yet she wouldn’t dare to say it, instead, a suspicious chuckle pushed past her lips out of nowhere.

[fractured-blog1]

» STARTER ! — ( A tale of a fractured mind & broken bones. ) » for @ddokddokyoung   from Nana !! » for tapping the heart.

» FRACTURED ! — Of course, they made sure to make her pretty. She knew what was waiting for her today. The one thing she had tried to struggle against in the past years. But she couldn't always run away from it, right? She could make the best out of it – and maybe make sure he wouldn't want her. Her parents took her to a restaurant that was booked for them alone. They told her she should behave like the good girl she was. She should show her best side because it was important. She took a deep breath, entered the restaurant. She didn't talk with her parents today. She was mad. And nervous. A waiter took her jacket and she thanked him. Carefully she let her fingers thread through her brown locks while the brought her to him. Her future husband. That sounded almost like a joke. How could she marry someone she didn't know? Her hands brushed over her black dress, evening out the wrinkles ( that probably didn't even exist ) until she was at his table. Her heart was thumping against the bones of her rib cage. She bowed down. Her throat dry. She couldn't even say one word. Everything stayed on her silken tongue. Silence.

[nobleconsort]

 @ddokddokyoung​ liked for a starter || Accepting

          -- A headache. This whole trip had been one momentous headache,              and it was all her boss’s fault. He was the one who wanted to expand              the business and now she was stuck under an awning soaked to the bone.              She had missed    her bus,  having misread the schedule. She could barely speak              Korean, let alone read it!

             She muttered a few curses under her breath, rubbing her arm to fight back the chill.              Her best  chance was reaching out to someone.

            “ Excuse me, sir! Do you know when the next bus is? “

[storvtime]

@ddokddokyoung: ( c.ont )

Inyoung stares into nowhere in the silence. They have reached his least favorite topic, but today it doesn’t feel as appalling as on most days. Love is distant today. Talking about it means nothing, there’s no distress present. It’s a state where he can talk about it like he has a lifetime’s worth of experience, while he has none. “Does it matter in unrequited love whether you give your best? You could make effort to show your worst and the result would be the same,“ he speaks with softness in his voice despite his core being so cold, and rests his head on the woman’s shoulder. “Did you fall in love?”

The question earns him a weird look: one that is wasted on the top of his head considering she couldn’t move much in their new position. Haeun wonders how much of it he feels, shoulders shaking when she lets out a low chuckle. “Me? In love?” She makes a show of searching the wide expanse above, fiddling with her cellphone for good measure. Thumb swiping periodically over the screen, she first shakes her head before elaborating: “Well, pigs are still flightless and Hell has not frozen over; so it’s safe to say that I have not fallen in love.” With a grin does she reach up to pat him on the cheek, careful not to startle. “Seems like a lot of work.”

[flxmvdhq]

❤

Send "❤" For my muse to kiss yours.

Status: Not Accepting

Minhyuk always prided himself on being sensual, romantic. So when he pulled you into his arms, he knew just how he wanted things to play out. Eyes relaxing to your frame as those fingers gently dusted over your bangs. Sliding those strands of hair to the sides of your face. He has your full attention now, but he wasn't ready to give you want you wanted... what he could smell you wantedInstead, he'd scoot closer, keeping to the arm of that chair where he could lean over just above you. Let his touch slide down to your jaw. 

Gently stroke the expense over skin in his reach, teasing your senses with the simple awareness of him, and those fingers curled around the tip of your chin to guide you. That lean deepening until his could be felt but moments from your own body. Where his breath could roll over your skin and yet still be too far away to steal intimacy from him. He waited here, held the moment as those lips parted for a moment. Separating for his thoughts to make themselves known. "You are, utterly... stunning." 

The pause leading the motion of his thumb to roll across that bottom thin lip, but he'd grant you no power. No chance to react when his lips met yours. Thicker, harsher. He was sweet in all but actions as he drew you in, threatening to suck in your very essence in hunger as he pulled at those plush pads. Licking, biting, bruising them a sensual red with every tilt of his frame. The promise to swallow you whole reaching it's abrupt end as he lingered there... just above you. Not realizing how his fingers threaded the locks of your hair to brace you for his affections.

Sweetly he'd smile, and let a chuckle fall from his lips as they pressed to yours once more. Closed mouth and quick. A peck barely savored as he leaned back to peer into your eyes. "I forgot to ask permission didn't I?" As if permission would have changed the last few seconds with his chest pressing firm to yours. "Want more?"

[thesambam]

chaussettes & doux & libellule

chaussettes (socks): what do you misplace the most?

Question: What don’t I misplace? I think my mother would’ve lived a more stress-free life if I was the kind of the daughter that was neat, organized, and overall not a hot mess--- Alas, that wasn’t my personality growing up. I can lose anything and everything. Trust me, it’s a gift.

But to answer the original question, my car keys. Well, when I had a car, in America. I don’t have a car here since the bus system is so much better than the one in Boston--...I’m rambling, sorry.

doux (soft): where do you feel most safe?

Wherever I can call my own space. My room, my house, my apartment. Anywhere outside of what is mine can be uncomfortable.

libellule (dragonfly): what’s your favorite super power?

Uh... Hm. I wish I had the power of teleportation. I’m not saying I hate living in Korea, but I wish I could just be at home right now with my mom. Pop in and out when I want to... That would be cool.

[pleicdes]

yellow { Dio }

                                    colorcoded starter call                                    want me to write you up a starter?                                     inbox me a color for aspecific theme/mood!                                          [ yellow for a scary starter ]                                    @ddokddokyoung| forever accepting!

 [ ✈ ]“There are stories that people never tell. For areason.”

Darkness looms over – purple shades above them and soonit will deepen into its most dark hue, signifying that night has come to claim itsreign in the sky. It is usually peppered with the stars and the moon thatilluminates the evening in behalf of the sun but tonight it’s nowhere to beseen. He isn’t sure what phase of the moon it is on this specific day – mainly becausehe doesn’t really care much about it. Whether it is supposed to be visible inits fullest form or the clouds have hidden it, not one of them knows.

What they know is that overcast shadow is as eerie asthe path they are currently taking.

He treads into the dim pavement, feet brisk in itsmovement all the while keeping his pace close to the younger one behind him. Itisn’t the best idea to go at this time of the day (or the night, to be exact)and if he had a choice he’d postpone this trip.But he was busy, so was his company. Andhe’s just too sure that he cannot go alone.

Fears. What areyour fears, Dio?

Too many. A lotbut the dark.

Few more minutes of walking, his bag now lay low on hisshoulder but he does not bother readjusting – it’s light, almost empty. Shouldbe. It’s where he’ll put his memories. And the memories of past resurfaces asthe old house comes into view, amber streetlight illuminating the abandonedhouse from the shrouds of darkness brought upon by desertion and the old,untrimmed trees surrounding it.

“Here we are. I swear this is not a haunted house,Inyoung.”

It isn’t. ToInyoung.

It is. To Dio.