౨ৎ ’ ⎯⎯⎯⎯ #𝒔𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒕𝒆𝒔 : expelling regret & overcoming oneself.
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@sateilltes
౨ৎ ’ ⎯⎯⎯⎯ #𝒔𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒕𝒆𝒔 : expelling regret & overcoming oneself.

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when I was younger I saw my daddy cry and curse at the wind he broke his own heart and I watched as he tried to reassemble it and my momma swore that she would never let herself forget and that was the day that I promised I’d never sing of love if it does not exist but darling you are the only exception you are the only exception you are the only exception you are the only exception maybe I know somewhere deep in my soul that love never lasts and we’ve got to find other ways to make it alone or keep a straight face and I’ve always lived like this keeping a comfortable distance and up until now I had sworn to myself that I’m content with loneliness because none of it was every worth the risk well you are the only exception you are the only exception you are the only exception you are the only exception I’ve got a tight grip on reality but I can’t let go of what’s in front of me here I know you’re leaving in the morning when you wake up leave me with some kind of proof it’s not a dream oh you are the only exception you are the only exception you are the only exception you are the only exception you are the only exception you are the only exception you are the only exception you are the only exception and I’m on my way to believing oh and I’m on my way to believing
whatever happens to me, i know it's for the better i know it's for the better i know it's for the better i know it's for the better i know it's for the better i know it's for the better i know it's for the better i know it's for the better i know it's for the better i know it's for the better i know it's for the better i know it's for the better i know it's for the better i know it's for the better i know it's for the better i know it's for the better i know it's for the better i know it's for the better i know it's for the better i know it's for the better i know it's for the better i know it's for the better i know it's for the better i know it's for the better i know it's for the better i know it's for the better i know it's for the better i know it's for the better i know it's for the better i know it's for the better i know it's for the better i know it's for the better i know it's for the better i know it's for the better i know it's for the better i know it's for the better i know it's for the better i know it's for the better
her assistance can't go unrewarded, surely, and love makes sure to remedy this with a beam and kiss to ramona's temple. “this one it is.” she emphasizes, dropping the sweater gently into their basket before hanging up the choice not taken. “i think there's probably one we can find a few aisles down." love hums; she takes mona's hand with her free one, still delighted by the glee it evokes in her. she thinks, for the most part, she's able to play it cool, if not for the slightly dopey grin she's learned she adorns by default around her girlfriend. “so let's see,” she starts as her eyes scan the shelves. “we got that trinket dish for aji, something for bell and zion's terrarium for nelly, and we said we'd get jameson something at the bookshop — mason, too …” familiar pattern snags at her gaze and she pauses, hand leaving ramona's reluctantly as she bends to take the same sweater she'd gotten for shion in a smaller size with triumph. “and this is cherry. — so who else … ?”
she's sickeningly easy ; the kiss to her temple makes her light all the way up, her smile spreading through her entire body. it's in the stretch of her lips and slip of teeth, the crinkle of skin at the corners of her eyes, the flustered lift of her shoulders, the toes that curl in her shoes. if there was an audience to her joy, shion would smile adoringly and call her cute ; diana would say something along the lines of, i get like that when love kisses me, too, you're not special. the happiness is still playing along her nerves when love takes her hand, their fingers filling each other's empty spaces. " um ! i think we're still down a gift for diana, emma, and ... lili. i think. " no, she knows. she knows because they're keeping a checklist in her phone that she's tediously updated with every found gift and lili's name rests at the very bottom of it ; there's one name that isn't on it at all and she doesn't speak it, either. " think we can find something for them here, or onto the next store ? "

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ᡣ𐭩 •。ꪆৎ ˚⋅ 𝗮𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻, @sateilltes … this one's for 𝙮𝙤𝙪 .ᐟ
contemplatively, she holds both sweaters up in front of the other, gaze going back and forth between either choice. teeth snag on her bottom lip and pull — not tightly enough to draw blood, but she fears that making the wrong decision may make shion do just that. “do any of these particularly scream … shion … to you ?” pulling her gaze back to her girlfriend, she can't help the way her expression softens — even now, when plagued by decision paralysis, ramona outshines her worries far better than the multicolored blinking holiday store lights. “i mean, they're both cute, in my opinion — but you know him better, and i don't need to know him well as i do to know he'd flip over getting a shirt that doesn't fit him …” she never thought she'd be here, ticking names off a joint holiday gift shopping list, but despite the stress that comes with it she's giddy all the same ( if she can pretend not to think about the last name they've added to the enumeration ).
curious eyes escape the rather unimpressive pair of mittens in her hands to lock onto the sweaters. she tips her head, contemplative, and runs the odds. " he'd wear this one, " she decides, shifting the mittens into one hand so that the other can pinch the hem of the sweater in love's right hand. " especially if we get cherry one to match it. he's more amenable to everything if we make it about cherry. " it's said with fondness and followed by a playful tug at the hem before she lets it go. she drops the mittens back where she found them, knowing well enough that diana wouldn't wear them regardless ⎯ the blonde rarely leaves her home enough to wear a jacket. " do you think we can find one in cherry's size, too ? "
𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐥 𝐭𝐨 : mason adlao ( @sateilltes ) — 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 emma bakhti, home for the holidays .
[ insert : a collection of poetry they had eyed together early in the year; a pack of gel pens, the kind he's always borrowed from her; a postcard with sketches of their favorite cafe, his apartment building, a watch.
a note: “mason — here is the truth of it, old as time: where you are, I will always follow. i hope this year we get the timing right. merry christmas.” ]
I wish you could see yourself the way the rest of the world does.
EUPHORIA Out of Touch
the prayer is all of me, 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒆
˚₊·—̳͟͞♡.⠀(⠀1⠀)⠀new notification⠀:⠀@bluejame⠀uploaded a photo⠀ !

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it isn't his intention, not truly, to have vanished without a single trace. in the privacy of his therapist's office, it's a habit he's worked for months to overcome, far too attached to his friends⠀—⠀to aji'ana wilkins and all that comes with being loved by her⠀—⠀to find comfort in the silence any longer. he's worked for months⠀;⠀in the back of his mind, he thinks he should have known such an effort would come with a breaking point. it's been exactly forty-two hours, twenty-six minutes, and ten seconds since his phone and porch light alike went dark. in the grand scheme of things, it's hardly anything, no more than a blip on the radar of the passage of time. it's a fact that used to bring him comfort in his silence, one that reassured him that life would carry on without him in it. now, it seems, it only serves to twist his stomach uncomfortably. as bluebell shifts gently in his lap, her curiosity sparking at the hum of a car passing by outside, he wonders idly if such discomfort comes hand in hand with the phenomenon of being cared for, or if it's just one more thing to add to the growing list of things he'll never quite understand. it's pure luck that he's robbed of the chance to dwell on the thought, blue's paws pressing lightly against his shoulder in an effort to garner a better look of the front door. the room is dark, blackout curtains drawn tightly together to block out the glare of the sun and the moon alike. bluebell is used to it, he knows, well-built for maneuvering through the darkened hallways of their home, but guilt still claws at his chest when she leaps over the back of the couch in search of more. the cry she lets out when she reaches the entryway draws him away from the feeling, the bright blue eyes that seek him out a balm to his most frayed nerves even in the shadowed room, and jameson is moving before he can quite think it through, too desperate to make up the silence to her to stay put in his corner of the couch any longer. deep in his stomach, anxiety stirs to life with the too-quick shortening of the space between jameson and the outside world, every corner of his mind screaming at him to abort his attempts at consolation⠀—⠀it's by the grace of well-learned stubbornness alone that he silences them, slow hand wrapping gently around the ornate brass of the doorknob as he pulls in one deep breath, then two, three, ten before he summons the courage needed to grant bluebell the resolution to her curiosity, the creaking of the door shaking him only as long as he's blind to the world that awaits him outside. it stands to reason that his nerves shut down on the spot, the familiarity of the widened brown eyes that stare back at him soothing him in ways he longs to sink into. “⠀aji,⠀”⠀he murmurs, dazed, always so dazed by the sight of her. his gaze drops then, to the carefully packed bags that crowd his doorstep, and his heart sings at the thought so clearly woven into each and every one, a smile pulling at the corners of his lips with the rambling voice that's grown so dear to his soul.⠀"⠀…⠀you don't have to leave,⠀"⠀he hears himself say, far too hopeful for a boy who has hardly spoken in two days.⠀(⠀of course, he thinks idly, of course she's the exception to all that he has and all that he ever will know about himself.⠀)⠀"⠀blue and i were just about to make dinner⠀—⠀you⠀…⠀you can join us, if you'd like. we saved you a seat.⠀"
there's no question why he immediately catches her attention; truly, by height alone, he's hard to miss. compounded with the fact that it's him, she's hopeless but to peer on at him, smile stretched with adoration. so it takes her a second or two to notice the soft nuzzle against her ankle, eyes dropping down rather belatedly. her smile sings just as true. " hi, you, " she coos, bending down to gather the cat in her arms. her heart aches, weirdly; it's been two days of silence on jameson's end, but a full five since aji'ana last came over ⎯ a dedication to giving him space that rolled over beyond intent. she presses a quiet kiss to bluebell's forehead before returning her eyes to the man who so frequently occupies her attention, and the truth is this: aji'ana wilkins is as selfish as they come. every inch of her wants to step inside, to take his invitation as it is before he dares to rethink it. but she loves him more than she craves him, and that distinction is enough to keep her in place. " what do you want me to do ? " she asks ⎯ open and genuine. she'll go if he asks her to ; she'll stay if he asks her to. it's always been that way and she can't fathom anything else. " the only place i ever want to be is exactly where you want me, jameson. " then, belatedly, she frowns. " you should both get inside. it's getting really cold out. " it's not quite snowing yet, aside from the one inch they got a few weeks ago, but the temperatures have dropped too low for them to comfortably stand outside for long. her socks are warm and stretch all the way up to her thighs, but she's cold despite them. she kisses bluebell once more before setting her down in the direction of the open door. " i don't have to stay if you don't want me to, " she tells jameson ⎯ not a rejection, because she doesn't know how to do that with him, but a reminder. " it won't hurt my feelings if you ask me to leave. but before i go, i want to make sure that you have everything you need. does blue have enough food ? "
🎙️⠀⠀₊⠀⠀˚⠀⠀─────⠀⠀aji'ana wilkins is LIVE with @starflouer ! jameson kwon phoned in to tell us aji shows up with a well-deserved care package .
she plans to be in and out ⎯⎯ really, she does. it's why she's in flats tonight instead of the heels she wore to school, the fabric of her skirt pressed too close to her skin to make a sound. not obtrusive, not overwhelming. it's the same reason she's repackaged all of the groceries into tote bags: they don't rustle the way plastic does, don't feel quite so slick to the touch. any and everything she needs to be inoffensive and borderline nonexistent. it's day two of jameson's silence ⎯ he's overwhelmed, diana theorizes, at his limit with all of the social interaction that comes from their friend group. she doesn't push for answers; it's not her place to ask what he doesn't offer. instead she does this: sneaking onto his porch and placing four totes of groceries at the door, tongue poked out the side of her mouth in concentration. her eyes skip around the image three times over, searching for the corner that'll topple first, and comes to the conclusion that it will, at the very least, stay upright long enough for her to escape back to her car and text jameson. she doubts he'll read it immediately; she almost hopes he doesn't, if only for his own peace of mind. but the bags are thermo and she doesn't worry about anything melting before he ventures outside of his door. still, she worries. she lingers. it's only for half of a second, but she lingers, and it costs her. she's only just pulled her foot back, half-pivoted to escape the porch, when the front door opens. she freezes, caught, and blinks. even in her capture, she's helpless against the smile that grows on her face at the sight of him. " jameson ! " she's quiet, barely at a third of her usual volume; she hopes it's not too loud, too much. " hi ⎯ sorry. i just ... i know that you usually get your groceries delivered, but i didn't want you to be forced into answering the door or anything, so i just went and picked them up for you and ⎯ " she's rambling. she stops. " sorry. i was leaving. "
That's enough. He can leave. You're not letting me go. I'm leaving for your sake.
You are my playmate. LEE JUN-YOUNG as GEUM SEONG-JE LEE MIN-JAE as GO HYUN-TAK WEAK HERO CLASS 2 (2025)

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it's interesting, he thinks, how softened words can fly off a tongue at the speed of a bullet, penetrating his every last layer until he's nothing more than a shattered pile of regret. at once, pain manifests within the deepened lines of his weathered skin, his head tipping forward and his gaze falling to rest on the grass that bends beneath the tread of his shoes.⠀"⠀it's not⠀—⠀"⠀not like that⠀?⠀not even wooyoung is cruel enough to finish the lie. swallowing around the lump in his throat, he tries once more, gaze lifting to meet the hollowness of hers.⠀ "⠀…⠀hee, i thought it would be better for you if i got lost.⠀"⠀pathetic, maybe, but true nonetheless. after all, it's no secret among friends and strangers alike that kang wooyoung is nothing more than an ugly smear across the family name⠀—⠀chohee has never deserved to carry the burden he saddled her with, will never deserve it⠀;⠀how disgustingly ironic that the only relief from the weight of it is one that breaks her heart. his gaze shifts away then, body pitching forward with the guilt that plagues his frame until his fingers find purchase within the blades of the grass beneath them and he's freed from the burden of the disappointment in her eyes.⠀"⠀i mean, seriously⠀—⠀what i've done, and what chanwoo's done⠀—⠀you've always been bigger than that. always been bigger than us. it wasn't fair of me to keep saddling you with that shit. you deserved to live a life outside of it.⠀"⠀and it's the most honest he's been in years, the truth slipping from the tip of his tongue so quickly that he's robbed of the chance to second guess it⠀;⠀deep within him, the relief it brings begins its descent to his heart, years of ice slowly melting away with the sticky-sweet heat of it. to no surprise, that stings, too. once more, he pulls in a breath, long and slow and desperate to maintain a fraction of the honesty she's brought out in him.⠀"⠀there's no door to walk out of, chohee. not this time. i walked away from you once and it nearly killed me. i'm not going anywhere, whether you believe me or not.⠀"
even with his eyes on her and his voice taut with desperation, chohee doesn't believe him. she watches him through half-lidded eyes ( an eye and a half ⎯ the bruising is still fading, the swelling still easing ) and thinks about the version of her that believed every version of him. she still exists somewhere, seated at whatever bus stop he kept her waiting, but she's a couple layers of dead skin removed from this conversation. chohee wonders if that's the girl wooyoung is gifting promises to ; the girl who would've believed anything and whose heart will break when he doesn't show up again, or the girl who's fresh out of belief and will be happy for him either way. she wonders if the heartbreak is essential for him. she taps her broken nail against her thigh. belief or disbelief aside, it doesn't seem right to walk past what he's said. not now that he's taken the time to say anything. " don't say that it was for me, " she finally says. she battles every impulse to stop ⎯ hardwired into people-pleasing. into making it easy. " you chose to leave ⎯ you and chanwoo, that was your decision. you chose to go and that's okay, it is, but don't place it on my shoulders when all i ever wanted was for you both to stay. " countless nights checking her call logs for the last time they thought of her, adding a tally for every text that got left on read, dedications at the end of every won competition that never elicited so much as a congratulations on facebook. she's made a fool of herself for their acknowledgement and it's never felt more obvious. gritting her teeth, she carefully shifts where she sits, adjusting the position of her leg and angling just a bit to face him. " what are you going to do when this feeling passes? when my bruises fade and i stop jumping at shadows ⎯ are you going to say the same thing you're saying now? that you're here to stay, or that i still deserve a life outside of your bullshit? " she works her jaw for a moment, trying to step around the puddle of hope that he threatens to drag her into. her shoulders sink a little and she takes his hand in between hers. " i don't want you to say anything if we're just going to see each other at the hospital from now on. if ⎯ " she blinks rapidly. she doesn't know why her eyes are doing this now ; she doesn't think she can sell this if she starts crying in front of him. " you let go, oppa, and that's okay. if all that's left of our relationship is the feeling that you have to be here when i'm hurt, then don't come. i'd rather be dead than be someone it kills you to give a damn about. "
oh, all that i did to try to undo it all of my pain and all your excuses i was a kid but i wasn't clueless ⠀⠀(⠀someone who loves you wouldn't do this⠀)