#bluestsdays

[erasinglines]

clad in what he'd consider the nicest shirt he owns (at the very least, one without any creases and blemishes), miller can still feel the tension pumping through his frame, coursing from the very top to the bottom as he stands there in the aftermath of meeting, or being catechized, by devon's parents. although he's had no experience with it before, and therefore has nothing to compare it to, something tells him that this wasn't exactly how these sorts of things were meant to go. a breath loosens from his chest, one he hadn't even been conscious he'd been holding throughout the interaction, once they're out of frame, turning to face devon, gaze scouring her own cautiously. one look at her, however, has a wave of tranquillity washing over him, combatting the commotion. he manages a soft smile; corners of his lips curled upright in a small motion as if to say it was alright, that he'd come prepared for this, knowing what was probably wracking her own thoughts right now. it's because of that, despite feeling like he's failed her somehow already, that he chooses to look on the bright side, low chuckle departing his lips as if it'll conceal his sudden unrest. " hey, that could've gone a lot worse, hm? " in fact, he'd almost expected it to, so being able to reach for her now, knuckles brushing softly against the back of her hand, intends to show her again that it was okay. maybe he wasn't entirely unscathed, but had made it out alive, at least. " think you really oversold it, actually— i was expecting a bloodbath. " he teases. / @bluestsdays

[cardigaen]

♡ lyric starter for @bluestsdays.

❛  all my friends say i started shootin' doubles when you walked in, that i went a little crazy seein' you with him.  ❜

[morningpages]

ﾟ✧         closed,         @bluestsdays   .

             the  night  moved  with  a  methodical  efficiency.  the  director  and  exhibitors  allowed  everyone  enough  time  to  get  a  few  drinks  in  their  system  before  their  persuasive  begging  began,  then  a  small  lull.  trays  of  even  more  champagne  and  tiny  foods  move  throughout  the  room.  the  curator  stands  and  says  a  few  words,  another  lull.  more  persuasive  begging  to  quickly  follow.  alec  wholly  understood  the  importance  of  these  events,  as  well  as  his  obligation  to  come  to  them.  leahy  assets  &  acquisitions  held  a  heavy  weight,  and  inside  a  world  as  fragile  as  this  one,  his  presence  was  essential.  it  would  all  be  his  own  one  day  after  all,  whether  that  be  a  fate  that  he  envisioned  with  open  arms  or  carrying  a  prophetic  scythe.  alec  should  remain  focused,  but  the  girl  would've  been  difficult  to  ignore  even  if  the  two  of  them  hadn't  been  exchanging  glances  all  night.  a  pluck  of  excitement  strikes  once  he  sees  her  acquiesce  in  their  game  of  chicken,  pushing  off  the  adjacent  wall  and  decisively  walking  in  his  direction.  they're  a  few  feet  apart  when  he  opens,  "  very  brave  to  leave  your  post  ,  "  a  sip  of  his  drink  for  confidence,  setting  the  delicate  glass  on  the  cocktail  table  next  to  him.  "  i've  been  holding  up  this  wall  all  night  ,  and  you  finally  left  yours  .  "  a  confident  smile  tugs  at  his  lips,  "  this  whole  place  could  fall  .  "

[erasinglines]

there’s only fuck knows how long until the countdown to midnight begins, and miller’s spiralling. his attention should be elsewhere (definitely not upon the brunette who’s been across the room from him, all night long), but it just isn’t. eden has been unusually close to his side throughout the evening, as if she doesn’t trust it to let him out of her sight for too long at a time, and it’s safe to say he’s feeling suffocated— not only with the overwhelming feeling of being watched, like one wrong move could change the entire trajectory of the evening, but also with the crushing pressure of what a new year brings, of what he has to leave behind in the year the pasts, specifically what occurred between him and devon, only a few weeks prior to tonight. and perhaps that’s why his gaze travels over to her a little more than usual, his eyes finding her own whenever possible, glossing over the surface of her skin his hands and mouth had only just explored again, reacquainted with the feel of her, of the two of them together, as one. it would explain the hot pang of jealously in his gut, burning like an ember, igniting a flame that licks at his skin, whenever fletcher is close in her vicinity, his hands in the places he yearns for his own to be, his mouth at the spots he wishes he could taste, once more. and it’s hypocrisy at its finest, sure, but those lines have always been blurred between them, and it’s only grown the more they’ve interweaved into each others lives again, opening himself up for more confusion and heartbreak. yet, when a window of opportunity presents itself, eden mentioning something in his ear about getting another drink, or doing a line in the bathroom (he’ll allow himself to feel horrible that he’s been barely listening later), like a moth to the flame, he finds himself venturing over to her, relieved when he finds her alone, too. “ hey, ” he aims for it to come casually, but the syllable is strained, like he’s been holding it in all night. “ i would’ve said something earlier, but you’ve been… occupied, ” a beat passes, glass pressed to the curve of his mouth. “ you and fletcher seem good. ” already launched, he feels the now warm liquid slide down his throat— good, he says, trying to put the puzzle pieces into place; good, he says, as if he hadn’t been inside her only a few weeks ago. / @bluestsdays

[morningpages]

ﾟ✧         closed,         @bluestsdays .

               “  i  am…  so  sorry,  ”  miles  apologizes  on  a  whisper,  shaking  off  the  snow  from  his  jacket  and  boots  after  carefully  shutting  the  door  behind  him.  the  house  was  big,  but  echoes  usually  carried  entirely  too  far.  although  it  wasn't  much  of  a  consolation,  he  had  texted  drew  a  few  hours  ago,  but  a  directors  perfectionism  combined  with  a  historic  snow  storm  delayed  his  lateness  even  further  than  originally  expected.  the  roads  were  bad  enough  that  part  of  him  was  surprised  he  had  made  it  home.  “  tell  me  you  won't  quit.  ”

[morningpages]

ﾟ✧         closed,         @bluestsdays   .

               “  you  can't  lay  down  .  you  might  fall  asleep  .  ”  nolan's  exertion  was  obvious  as  he  eased  marley  down  on  the  rickety  patio  furniture,  drained  after  pulling  her  through  the  throng  of  people.  the  party  inside  raged  on  regardless  of  her  fall,  the  discordant  sounds  of  vibrating  bass  and  chatter  growing  louder  and  softer  with  every  open  and  shut  of  the  back  door.  “  talk  to  me  ,  ”  nolan  says  casually  as  possible,  barely  masking  the  edge  of  concern  in  his  voice.  he  leans  forward,  pulling  at  her  eye  to  check  her  pupil,  as  if  he  knew  what  to  look  for.  “  did  you  hit  your  head  so  hard  that  you're  going  to  be  really  fun  to  be  around  from  now  on  ?  ”

[morningpages]

･ﾟ∗     @bluestsdays  :  brynn's instagram   ft.   asher   .

[lastflowcrs]

closed starter for @bluestsdays

it was atypical for griselda to reveal herself in this way — in any way, really. anonymity was her greatest vice. despite how she was already decently acquainted with the male ( as well as his sister ) she still wore her hoodie up, letting the fabric conceal her amber eyes. " hudson, " there's a teasing edge to her tone, bordering on cruel. " do you recognize this person ? " the femme flashed him a photo on her cell phone — it was of a beautiful woman. considerably older than the two of them but stunning nonetheless. " marina lamoreoux. mother of two. loving wife of charles lamoreoux, multi-millionaire and widely connected modeling agent. " she spoke a bit robotically, cocking her head to the side. " your agent, no ? " griselda swiped to the next picture — a screenshot of a text thread, featuring an exchange of lewd photographs. " how do you think he'd feel if he knew you'd been speaking with mrs lamoreoux like this, hm ? "