⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ i⠀gave⠀a⠀second⠀chance⠀to⠀𝒄𝒖𝒑𝒊𝒅⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀but⠀now⠀i'm⠀𝑙𝑒𝑓𝑡⠀here⠀feeling⠀stupid
⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𝒄𝒖𝒘𝒑𝒊𝒅𝒔 ౨ৎ a priv. blog shot from 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑤's quiver.

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@cuwpids
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ i⠀gave⠀a⠀second⠀chance⠀to⠀𝒄𝒖𝒑𝒊𝒅⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀but⠀now⠀i'm⠀𝑙𝑒𝑓𝑡⠀here⠀feeling⠀stupid
⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𝒄𝒖𝒘𝒑𝒊𝒅𝒔 ౨ৎ a priv. blog shot from 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑤's quiver.
tachycardia / a once - in - all - lifetimes case study
it figures⠀,⠀hyunjin supposes⠀,⠀that not even the deepest pits of hell would grant him the holiness of an escape⠀.⠀there's tension in his shoulders from the scent of him alone⠀,⠀the autumn breeze carrying hints of the very cologne that hyunjin once begged to drown himself in through the space between them⠀.⠀it's intoxicating⠀,⠀nauseating⠀—⠀hyunjin wishes more than anything to lick it from his skin once more⠀.⠀he swallows down the desire⠀.
jun yoongi looks the same as he did the day he walked away when hyunjin turns to face him⠀,⠀beauty radiant in the glow of the sun⠀.⠀it takes his breath away⠀,⠀just a little⠀,⠀and hyunjin finds himself at risk of drowning in him⠀,⠀his only life raft the hesitation that burrows into the lines of his face⠀.
he should have stayed with duckyoung⠀.
with one deep inhale⠀,⠀he frees himself of the regret of not⠀,⠀the leaves crunching beneath the treads of his boots as he moves to shorten the distance between them⠀.
"⠀should have known you'd be here⠀,⠀too⠀.⠀"
there's bite in his tone⠀,⠀he knows⠀,⠀the taste of it bitter on the tip of his tongue⠀;⠀sue him for struggling to rejoice in a town emptied by all but the greatest loss of his life⠀.
"⠀. . .⠀soobin okay⠀?⠀"⠀he pauses⠀,⠀just a hint of hesitation as he takes in the sight of him⠀.⠀"⠀are you⠀?⠀"
even seated in the apocalypse , yoongi's smile is a charged and bitter thing . he doesn't laugh , but ⸻ it's funny . the air of loss is oppressive , their remaining loved ones easy to count on one hand , and jun yoongi is still persona non grata .
it's funny . he's allowed to smile about it .
‘ maybe in the next one , ’ he muses aloud . the next one is a concept they've all cautiously approached , armed with bomb gear and faithless prayers from the devout that the last one was the only one . but if there is a next one , if there's any god playing battleship with their soulless town , hyunjin wouldn't be the sole parishioner propping yoongi onto the sacrificial altar . yoongi's eyes trail , slow , over to the swing sets ( where he first learned the weight and sweat of hyunjin's hand in his and decided he'd carry it forever ) and something less amused falls onto his stomach . it hits him , again , that he's the pariah of the jun family . the town sickness .
it's funny . he'd laugh if he had it in him .
‘ soobin is safe , ’ he answers , offhanded but sure . he'll always be sure of that . even out of sight , out of earshot , soobin is the hand above the marionette strings ; yoongi would be strings and straw on the ground if anything happened to him . there'd be no mistaking the feeling . he smiles again . ‘ he's still here . we'll survive the minutiae . ’
for a second , yoongi debates his chances . where rights end and privilege settles . ( remembers when he walked . )
then he looks at hyunjin again . ‘ i'll tell him you asked about him . he'll be happy . ’ he burrows his hands into his pockets , rocking his weight forward onto his toes , ever the young boy swallowed by adolescent feelings . a lesson in unchanging forces . ‘ are you sleeping okay , hyunjin ? ’
lowkey .. my aesthetic on daezdes was unmatched, let me run that back -
𝔤𝔬𝔡 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔰 𝔶𝔬𝔲, 𝔟𝔲𝔱 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔫𝔬𝔲𝔤𝔥 𝔱𝔬 𝖘𝖆𝖛𝖊 𝖞𝖔𝖚.
it's worth noting — at least, it is to dimitri, anyway — that he doesn't so much as blink at the subtle jolting of taehui's body, amused gaze steady where it lays on the pretty curve of taehui's lips even as the younger moves to extend what, really, can only be counted as an invitation in dimitri's direction. there's no hesitation in the wrapping of his fingers around the cool metal of the spoon, hand moving to tip it towards taehui in a silent thanks as he shifts towards the truly impressive spread of ice cream laid out before them. “ she gets distracted by everything, ” he points out, not at all unkindly ; new as she may be to the group, lovella has made quick work of worming her way into the hearts of each and every one of them, more than happy to bare even the less desirable parts of her to them in exchange for their friendship. the thought alone warms dimitri from the inside out, and he's careful to share that warmth with the man before him with nothing more than a simple brush of hands as he makes to dip the spoon into the lesser favored chunky monkey. “ there's nothing to compete with, ” he points out, soft and thoughtful. “ you've always been in a league of your own. ‘s really more like everybody else trying to compete with you. ” and maybe that’s too honest — too revealing, but he's far too caught up in the glint of the light against sharp teeth to worry too much in that regard. clicking his tongue, he shakes his head, slow in savoring the spoonful he lifts to his lips as taehui's own question settles over his shoulders. “ delaney wanted me to come, ” dimitri admits after a moment, propping one elbow up against the countertop. “ figured it wouldn't kill me to give her that much. swimming with the rest of them might, though, so … ” he trails off, nodding towards the scene before him — towards the ice cream, towards the near empty kitchen, towards taehui and all that comes wrapped up in him — and lifting a shoulder in a shrug. “ eating my feelings with you is way better. ”
even when he laughs, he doesn't take his eyes off of dimitri — not for a moment, anyway. he glances down at the ice cream a moment later, digging out a decent chunk of walnuts and chocolate chips. " the idea that anyone is competing with me is an interesting one, " he hums, sticking the spoon into his mouth. it goes unsaid: the idea of sawyer moon feeling the need to compete with anyone is laughable. as if he hasn't made a reputation of floating above it all and never so much as looking down. it gets another laugh out of him, even though it's private and almost inaudible. " but she seems happy. " flicks a glance towards the backdoors, where everyone escaped to not that long ago. he wonders after lovella — if she is happy right now, smiling in perfect bliss without his supervision. he imagines her laughing and chooses to believe it's reality. then he looks at dimitri again, only momentarily startled by his statement. then he smiles. " so charming, mister nam. you almost made me feel special there, " he teases. he taps his thumb against the neck of the spoon, watching his distorted reflection in the silver before he looks up. " want to talk about what feelings you're eating, toots ? some fella did you dirty ? " it's a joke as much as it isn't ; as if the spinning tension between dimitri and the life of the party hasn't been strangling the atmosphere since they all arrived. he pokes at the ice cream — shovels out another spoonful. " i'm all ears, if you wanna talk. "
there's a lump forming in the base of her throat, thick and uncomfortable even as her hand slips into the warm cradle of holden's own. she does her best to swallow around it, really, but in the end, she winces anyway, heart skipping a beat in her chest in the face of its resistance. “ um, ” she begins, always eloquent. her gaze drops once more, only briefly, before she turns her attention over to him entirely — he's her only chance at maintaining her sanity, yue knows ; she might as well try to take comfort in that. “ since we got here, i think, but … but it got bad this morning. i don't — i can't even begin to pinpoint why. ” and trust her, she's tried. the very last thing she wants is to ruin the weekend any further by dredging up drama over a single bad feeling. it's hardly her fault that her efforts have proved pointless. “ do you … do you not feel it ? it's like all i can focus on. feel like it's driving me insane a little bit. ”
holden has the good sense to stop and think about it before he responds. he looks away from her to consider it all, but he barely scrapes together an inkling. " not really, " he confesses, then scrambles to add, " but i believe you. if you say something's up, then something's up. " it comes out with unshakable confidence, because there's no room for anything else — he's never found yue to be anything less than his way, his truth, and his light. his thumb grazes the back of her hand, though it's hard to say if she gets any comfort out of it. " ... but i don't know what you want me to do, baby. do you — you want me to talk to brooks about sending everyone home ? he won't mind. he's kind of just humoring us with this whole thing anyway. " his attempt at a joke, at a smile, falls a little flat, but it's sincere in its failure, too — he's never been one to hide from her. " if you don't feel safe, i can take you home. we can leave right now, you know i don't care. "
for what it's worth, there's nothing short of absolute kindness in the depths of brooks' gaze when it shifts towards her, his smile small but nonetheless entirely genuine. on the long list of grievances brought to the surface over the course of this weekend, adeline's quick refusal to accept his concern is nowhere to be found ; how could it be when brooks himself has been known to shutter others out a time or two ? clearing his throat, he turns more fully towards her, shaking his head minutely as he wraps his fingers around the coldness of the glass. “ you never owe me an apology, adeline, ” he murmurs, honest. absently, he nudges his knee against hers, hopeful that the silence of the touch holds even the barest hint of reassurance. “ i mean it. you have every right to shut down an interaction that you don't want to have, even if i'm coming to you out of concern. all i care about is you being comfortable. ” and it's her redirection, then, that draws his attention forward, his brows lifting and his shoulders tensing for only a moment before he forces his body to relax ; the least he can do is be honest with her for the sake of setting a good example. “ nobody's said anything, ” he reports with ease, though he finds no comfort in the fact. “ it's just … family stuff. her dads are being a bit odd, is all. we're used to it, we'll be fine. ”
there's a twitch at the corner of her mouth. an uninformed party might call it smug. " i already apologized. " ( certainly smug. ) she peers on at him as he eventually unearths what's bothering him. she starts picking at the lint attached to her pants. " ... 's not unusual. they're always weird. especially when it comes to rue and cruz. " doesn't necessarily need to be said that this is about cruz ; most things are. there's a bitterness curdling in her veins, something that only ever springs up when it comes to her older brothers. her love has no choice but to break down around her frustration — or vice versa, maybe. whatever variation comes from whatever day. she breathes around it until she sinks back into the comfort of what she knows: how much she loves them, in spite of their failures. " ... but they try. they are trying to keep from letting anything get in the way of your wedding — of rue's happiness. they're not doing a good job — " goes almost without saying. " — but i don't think they're trying to fuck this up. has rue noticed ? "
༊࿐ ͎. 𝓭𝒊𝒎𝒊𝒕𝒓𝒊 , pawing at @cuwpids door beggin' for a check in from 𝓽𝒂𝒆𝒉𝒖𝒊
the kitchen is near barren by the time he steps into it, the chaos of the mid - morning long since died down to make room for the single soul that occupies it now. curiosity floods dimitri's gaze as it lands on the shape of his company, his body relaxed as he makes to settle back against the unforgiving edge of the granite countertop. “ not in the mood for swimming, then ? ” and it's not his business, not really, dimitri no closer to taehui than he is to the strangers brought in for the sake of promised solidarity should things go awry, but sue him, he doubts he'll be granted many more chances to grow nearer to him in such a hellscape. “ gotta admit, 'm a little surprised lovella didn't throw a fit over you tapping out. ”
hand to god, taehui's knee - deep in a tub of chunky monkey and three inches into a complementary tub of new york cheesecake when dimitri finds him. it's why the spoon slips for half a second, and it's only the miracle of timing, mild foresight, and really good reflexes that lets him catch the spoon before it can so much as flick a melted drop onto the countertop. " ... ah, " he offers, chin dipping near his chest as he chuckles. the memory of his new ( but beloved, nonetheless ) friend's resistance to the concept of time apart warms him, chestfirst and wholehearted, and he's helpless against his own smile. he pushes himself up onto his palms, extending his shoulders back just enough to stretch out the muscles that have grown complacent there, then ventures to the cutlery drawer. " she had some things to say about it, " he admits, his voice calm and fond as ever as he comes back to the counter to offer the spoon to dimitri. " then i think she got distracted by sawyer. " flicks a glance at his senior, half of a grin exposing his sharp canines. " and who am i to compete with sawyer moon ? " and he leans back down, spoon digging into what's left of the new york cheesecake. " isn't it more surprising that you're here ? " here: this kitchen, this moment, this fucking party.
𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓈𝒽𝑜𝓉 .ᐟ @puppiloved , adeline adlao and brooks han have a private moment.
the glass barely makes a sound when it touches the bar — it's only tangible when it slides over into his space, a quiet offering from the unlovable. " i owe you an apology, " she opens with, never quite one to hide from her unacceptable parts. even when ( especially when ) they outnumber everything else. palms retreat to her lap, sliding over the raggedy fabric of old - worn pants. " i'm not ... great with people who make an effort. " she presses her lips together, thinned out in an evergreen display of awkwardness. " and i know that's not why you came to me in the first place, but ... you noticed something was wrong. you tried to check on me. i'm sorry i didn't respond well. " her chin nods, brief, towards the glass. a toast to the groom, courtesy of his own unpalatable company. somber eyes linger on him for a long moment before she tips her head, just a fraction. " ... are you okay ? " frowns. straightens her shoulders, eyes narrowing. " did someone say something to you or rue ? "
༊࿐ ͎. 𝔂𝒖𝒆 , pawing at @cuwpids door beggin' for an out from 𝓱𝒐𝒍𝒅𝒆𝒏
her bottom lip is blood soaked when her head lifts, no lip balm in the world strong enough to withstand the constant worrying of her teeth against the pillowy flesh. there's anxiety seated in her chest, the very kind that she'd once sworn couldn't possibly exist with holden beside her, but as her gaze seeks out his in the privacy of their shared room, she finds herself helpless against the swell. “ it's stupid, i know, ” she murmurs, voice soft. in her lap, her hands twist together, and it takes effort not to allow her eyes to drop back down to them — takes effort to ignore the mess of half-pressed imprints from her rings against her palms. she'd dragged him in here, after all — the least she can do is look at him as the pot boils over. “ i just … feel like something's wrong. or … or off, i guess. like we shouldn't be here ; i don't know how to shake it. ”
it isn't the first time his thumb mops the blood from her lip. maybe third, by now. he doesn't mind it — splitting her anxiety around the cut, portioning off a little more to him every time he cleans her lip. and he'll clean and clean and clean until the wound's sealed up and her pupils don't skip and tremble every time they shoot over to him. baby steps, though. slips a hand down in between hers to pull hers in between his — equivalent exchanges and all that. nothing is ever truly lost. " how long have you felt like that ? " he asks, angling his knees towards her. palm to palm, fears split down the middle. " did something set you off, you think ? " it's lackluster, but it's genuine. it's a start — somewhere in that answer is something that he can touch. something he can put his hands on and fix. that's the idea, anyway.
𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓈𝒽𝑜𝓉 .ᐟ @puppiloved , woojin seo and sullivan ayedemi suffer a wild misunderstanding.
" no, sullivan, i don't need your help. " believable, if you ignore the strain in his voice and the borderline aggressive way he pops open the amazon boxes in emerson's foyer, tinsel threatening to jump out at him when he does. woojin stares down at the brightly colored decorations with disdain but faithfully unpacks them, if only to avoid emerson sending another etsy witch after him. " i can do this myself. did you check on eve ? who knows what kind of day she might be having. "
there's no denying the flush of red that stains his skin in tandem with the teasing comment that rolls so easily off of ginger's tongue, emerson's lips pulling into a smile that veers on the side of embarrassed as he ducks his head to hide the proof. “ nobody knows how to spell hors d'oeuvres, ” he points out, hands busied by the careful task of rearranging the spread of the crackers once more. it's no use, he knows, the outcome of his shuffling no different than his last six attempts, but he considers the effort well worth it when he resurfaces from the tray with his cheeks free of pink. “ i just — i want it to be good, that's all. not even just for him, but for all of you. it's like — why am i even bothering to have a christmas party if the reindeer charcuterie board doesn't earn me an extra point or two on the boyfriendable and the friendable scale, you know ? ”
" nobody knows how to spell hors d'oeuvres, " she mimics teasingly. she blows out tufts of air when she places the cookies onto the stovetop, swapping one batch out for another. she sets the timer on the next batch in the oven and grabs the cooling rack from the cupboards. " well, " she says, carefully transferring the fresh cookies over. " i hate to tell you this, but you're not winning the friendable thing, because that man wants to be inside you and that's not a strictly friendable feeling. boyfriendable, however ... " she removes her oven mitts and tosses them onto the counter. she glances, very briefly, at his umpteenth reorganization of the charcuterie board and smiles, fond down to the gleam in her eyes. " i think we can call the race now, babe, you won. "
𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓈𝒽𝑜𝓉 .ᐟ @puppiloved , jaden nam and zoey cantrell talk shit. of course.
" m'not saying you're wrong, just saying that's not what i heard. " which is, in essence, the same thing. jaden snags the box from margot without a word as she comes through the door, nodding to zoey to close the door behind her. like religion and clockwork and all other predictable things, anna appears from nowhere to take margot's coat. jaden exchanges a glance with zoey and wiggles his eyebrows, but politely doesn't say anything. not until she's in touching distance, that is, and he can lean over to whisper to her. " how much you want to bet those two are going to avoid the mistletoe all night ? —— margs, babe, where'dya want me to put this ? "
𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓈𝒽𝑜𝓉 .ᐟ @puppiloved , ginger levesque helps emerson roh at the christmas party.
" memes, you're stressing way too much over the hors d'oeuvres. " the words come with a light hip - check as she slides past him, snagging the oven mitts from the counter on her way. " the person you're trying to impress cannot even spell hors d'oeuvres. " said much too fondly, brown eyes briefly flitting towards the living room where the rest of the gang mingles. jaden is neck - deep in conversation with zoey and still staring directly into the kitchen until he catches ginger looking back. stifling laughter, she bends at the waist to open the oven. " i promise you, he will eat your charcuterie board without complaint. "
i hope he's pissed off forever