#I dont think Ive ever felt so much rage in my life

[dyslexic-mess]

My little sister just asked me how to loose waight. MY 10 YEAR OLD SISTER. Is worried she's fat.

Everybody fuck off, I'm about to start dropping bodies.

[melissa-titanium]

could actually genuinely watch this fucking scene over and over again its SO well animated & if you actually hear it and the dialogue without context its fucking hilarious like why is this kid losing his fucking mind over being told hes cool and normal . but its just so fucking good. i genuinely cant say i have a firm grasp on his character enough to properly analyze this scene with confidence but god its just. its so good. its SO GOOD. remembering shigeo when he was little being the last straw as well. fuckkkkk. kid whos been the perfect son perfect brother with perfect grades ever since the incident because he fully and sincerely believes if he lets that facade slip. if he lets his brother get upset. even for a second. he's putting himself and others into incredible danger. because unlike his brother, he has no special abilities of his own he cant defend himself. and hes THIRTEEN he has to manage that weight on his shoulders with no help from anyone else.

then. something something. after so long of hoping hoping hoping to get those abilities, putting himself in a position he despises just to make up for his perceived lack of self defense, he just. gets powers. powers that were supposedly lying dormant within him all his life. do you know how that must have felt? all of that festering, all of that fear was for NOTHING? i think. augh i dont have my thoughts about him cohesive enough to fucking say anything but just like. i dont know. ive seen one or two people be like LOL ritsu so overdramaticccccc in cleanup arc like NO dude when i was 13 i did something kinda similar i get him. i get him . my freakass little brother. thats just what it feels like. having to pack away such a traumatic event? something he experienced as a kid . must have been so much bigger in his eyes now. when youre small EVERYTHING is big to you. and he never quite grew out of seeing what shige did to him as something monumentally terrifyingly BIG. and it just festered and festered and festered and. i dont know. going way too deep into this rn but after building up SO. MUCH. RAGE. and all it comes out as is something arguably like. meager? it makes you fucking lose your absolute shit. i dont know if im making sense its 1 am bare with me dude. i really like ritsu i really like ritsu i think hes cool i GET him i promise i do i just cant articulate my thoughts on him. agggggggggggggh

[etherape]

feeling bluh all the time so here you guys have a ryhme *p.s. sorry about any typos its the rough draft of a poem/rap

im writing poetry thats a bad sign

im completely gone

And I dont feel fine

Everything feels wrong

Everythings on the line

The nights are getting long

im running out of time

getting angry at myself

living in a dangerous hell

And i know it cant help

But shit aint going well

And im pavloved by the bell

That my phone let out

But no matter how much i shout

The screen wont love me back

No matter how much i tap

It wont ever amount

To half a slow clap

in a constant state of strife

 cant tell if im wrong or right

I  think i just hate my life

I think theres no end in sight

I just wanna i to see the light

But everything is fucked up

Everything is shite

You know i aint gonna shut up

You know im  gonna fight

I know i might sound stuck up

How maybe just a leg up

You probably think my rhymes suck

Im just hoping for a bita luck

I know i aint the cream of the crop

I just hope life aint a set up

I hope life aint a cop

You kow im getting fed up

You know gotta keep the feds up

They be staring through my webcam

With their coffee cup

Watching me go ham

Looking shit i shouldnt up

You know what they say outta mind outta sight

But im so angry my visions going white

You knwo what they say about rows and ducks

I fucking wish i didnt give a fucking  fuck

I hope everything goes alright

I hope this doesnt suck

Someone got a light?

I wanna hurt my lungs

I know that cigs are shite

But Thats how i wanna end my night

I know that smoke aint it

But thats how ill end my life

When they push i pull

But when i need it they never help

Aint that a load of bull

Been a while since this is how the angers felt

Been Thinking of the belt clanking

That i could do nothing to stop

Been thinking of shanking

The woman i call my opp

Ive got a hankering

To make her stop

But i digress

I cant digest

The rage inside

But i do my best to hide

Breathing kinda works

Im trying to keep calm

My chest kinda hurts

And im trying not to vom

[dear-diary-mood-apathetic]

brb im fucking bawling

life story/rambling under cut

I've been doing a lot of thinking and reflecting lately. A lot of revisiting things Id have been much happier to leave in the past.

I always hated hearing how one day it would get better. Because I knew that it wouldnt be that easy. I knew I wouldnt just wake up one day and feel fine. And I think more than anything, I was scared that being okay meant losing the most integral part of my child/teen self: my rage.

I was an emotional kid growing up. I'd cry at everything and anything and all I ever wanted was for everyone to be happy. It was a burden I undertook personally at far too young of an age. Be it the eggshells I took my first steps on or the guilt I'd never let go of simply for the inconvenience of being born a baby. I saw things a child shouldnt have to see and handled emotions and situations far too grown up for a second grader. When I started to understand this, thats when I started to get angry.

I knew that the way I was treated wasnt okay, and by the time I would turn ten I'd gotten violent. I escaped into the comfort of horror media and would often find myself locked away in my dark bedroom on my phone for hours at a time scouring the corners of the internet for the next disturbing thing I could find. But I was just a kid. And that would send me down a multi-year psychotic episode that left me feeling isolated and terrified. And even more angry. I started getting into fights whenever the opportunity arose outside of the house. I wasnt even in middle school yet, but I was filled with blind, white hot rage already.

Once I made it to middle school though, some of the anger had festered into a chronic depression that felt like emotional rot. I developed a lot of awful habits and worsened a few Id picked up prior. I hurt a lot of people in my spiral downward and I still regret many of those things to this day. I was hurting and determined to make other people hurt too. But it only felt fair to me at the time; if I have to go home to my dads cruelty every single day, what did it matter who I hurt? They were supposed to feel bad for me.

It wouldn't be until about 2020 that things started to finally look up. I got my first job against my dads will, and this would be the decision that changed my entire life. I finally started to understand that I wasn't bound by my dads judgement. I met the people who would let me move into their apartment after a shitty roommate situation. And most importantly I met my boyfriend.

I went through a few relationships and there were a few roadblocks before it finally worked out for us to get together. Including my dads impulse choice to move himself, me, and my pregnant stepmother to South Carolina with no actual shelter built except a camper for them and a tent for me in July of '22. But after being friends for about a year and a half, we finally started dating in August. That November, he and one of our then mutual friends made an 8+ hour drive to pick me up on my eighteenth birthday. I turned 18 on November 6th and they started driving on the fifth. If it werent for them I'd still be stuck in South Carolina!

I really think I have my boyfriend to thank for who I am today. When we met I was sixteen and didnt plan on making it to eighteen. I dont think I wouldve without him. Hes been the most supportive and patient person as I've worked to heal a lot of wounds he didn't cause. Ive only been able to do the reflection and self help I needed because of him. I've been allowing myself to let go of the anger Ive defined myself with for so long and its scary. But I think Im going to like the gentler version of myself. The version he deserves.

Because for once in my life I feel like I'm safe. The eggshells are gone. A quiet house doesn't mean tension and a loud one no longer means violence. I can breathe and rest for the first time in a long time. I slept with an eye open for a while, but I think its finally safe to close them both.

[afaramir]

LOLL i was gonna start like ‘hey there im denethor anon’ but u beat me to it. SIMILAR MINDS. Haha i read one of ur fics, was immediately smitten & was like i MUST follow them. (I’m glad i did, love the vibe of ur blog and the Flavour of ur opinions.. TASTY) so im a more recent follower but i’m gathering younger you weren’t a fan of denethor, huh? Can’t say i blame you. PJ certainly made some Decisions. he was like how do i convert a complex character into The most loathsome creature ever. He really did our fav gondorians sooo dirty. I literally watch through those scenes SEETHING in rage.

So I’ve been Thinking about denethor and faramir and nothing else for two days. like i am a denethor girlie. in my mind. spiritually. haven’t posted much abt him on tumblr. but nowww. you’re exactly right, ‘denethor Is a good leader…[insert ur paragraph here]’ yes yes yes you get it. listen denethor was a prideful, angry, resentful man but he was also valiant, resilient and noble. He guarded his city, alone (which takes GUTS, again, he was a badass!!), so well, for literal YEARS that Sauron was fearful/wary of him. i wish people were more understanding of him. he’s such an interesting character there’s so much to explore there. as you said the duty-vs-love, the weapon-first-person-next of it all. the layers. denethor as a weapon. denethor as a symbol of both sword/shield. AAHHH

BUT i think some people dismiss him hate him bc he is the mirror (the ugly side? if that makes sense) of humanity, of us. we ought to show him some compassion tho ‘cause havent u ever been taken under the darkness of life? felt the world slipping away & struggle to keep up w it? dont u ever feel hopeless? that things will never change, no matter what u do? DO YOU HAVE FEARS HAVE YOU FACED THE MONSTERS? WERE YOU ALONE, SCARED AND HOPELESS? AND HAVENT YOU MADE MISTAKES IN YOUR GRIEF AND PUSHED PEOPLE AWAY?? THAT’S what denethor experienced. He was described as a leader & a learned one at that for christ sake. He knew that evil was awaiting him and his kin and his people! he saw his future. yet. yet he soldiered on until. war declared. his sons killed (or so he believed). that’s when hope abandoned him. what was the point of staying alive now anyway? Evil was upon them, they would surely be tortured w a fate worse than death, so why should he not end the pain and kill himself? he fought the war against Time, Evil and The Dark Enemy himself and WON. he was a brave man indeed, to have fought these dark forces so much stronger than him. but he finally lost the war against Despair (and Grief), the cruelest of them all. imma cry 😭😭😭 no no no u don’t understand he didnt give up hope, hope abandoned him he- [GUNSHOT] (i don’t know how much of this even made sense lmao) anyway,

Faramir <333. do i even have to say anything about faramir? he’s the specialest little guy i love himm 🥰. On god i am one step away from rereading lotr just for him (plsss dont tempt me finals are in less than a fortnight) his and denethor’s relationship like u described my godddd XDD. fucked up familial relationships MY BELOVED. i am feral about this trope. the resentment… the jealousy… the mirror image of each other… the you’re-the-same-like-me-and-i-hate-that… mmmhm. hey do u ever think about 12 year old faramir admiring his father much the same way he did boromir and wishing he would grow up to be just like him? and do you ever think about 28 year old faramir knowing that he’s more like his father than anyone else and hating that? hating him? i do.

I’ll stop now lol im afraid my coherency has diminished by now. also sorry sorry for replying so late i am preparing for my exams. but rest assured i WILL be Rotating faramir around in my brain :3

hiiii denethor anon LOL this is the greatest ask ive ever received. every day i endeavour to provide only THE juiciest of opinions. aka this is my diary and you all are subjected to it. anyway im so glad you liked my fic i would love to know which one you read! i got into lotr via the films when i was super young so my past opinions were def coloured by The Choices. i have learned and grown since then<3 i was watching the book-to-film analysis vids on the extended edition dvds a couple weeks back and it made me so mad that i had to get up and turn off the tv. did you know there are other character options besides 'paragon of virtue' and 'one dimensional villain'...truly kind of a "nice dichotomy idiot! now what lies outside of it" situation. A Waste Of Your John Noble, To Be Honest. idk i still hold the films very close to my heart but the choices...i will simply respectfully disagree. and dont even get me started on faramir we WILL be here all night. another time. i have denethor thorongil situationship-fic to write. (i am serious about that) (i was simultaneously playing it 100% straight serious AND kind of joking about them. i shouldve known better. well.........we are so in it.)

you are so real for this. i have ALSO been Thinking about denethor and faramir and nothing else for days. weeks, even. sorry to everyone coming to the faramir goes to rivendell au for faramir and the fellowship the first 10k is literally just Keeping Up With The Stewards. we'll get there. i Will blame you for the impetus for my recent denethorposting on main but also encourage you to also do this. do whatever you want forever<3 nooo but straight up...guy who has so much strength and will that The Lord Of All Evil wouldnt contend directly against him and had to bring out the big palantir guns to bring him down. and if he'd not lost both of his sons i mean...who knows what would've happened. sometimes your sons ARE the only thing keeping you from killing yourself Do It For Them-style and lets be real that is a valid coping method. (i don't have an answer for that one and boy oh boy do i wish i did. it is going to become a massive thorn in my side in, oh, 70k or so when i hit rotk. well...i will blow up that bridge when i get to it.)

im actually putting a read more in this time bc this post broke a thousand words. continue at your own risk. there IS also faramirposting at the end here i promise.

just imagining denethor leading the siege of minas tirith. um. now stay with me here...riding out with imrahil's sortie. STAY WITH ME HERE. what do you think the livery of a steward going to war looks like. jesus christ i need to go lay down. yes i purposefully placed the read more before i decided to go momentarily horny on main. its also lowkey very vague au spoilers. sorry everyone but denethor IS canonically hot and we need to acknowledge it. Anyway.

denethor as a weapon denethor as both a sword and a shield...i am chewing glass for real. you GET IT. god i love person-as-weapon metaphor soooo much. When The Iconography Is Getting A Little Too Real. denethor as gondor, as her vanguard and standard-bearer and. i am straight up frothing at the mouth. all he ever wanted was to be a gentle lord in a time of peace.....and death was his reward...Sorry For Stealing The Fingon Death Quotation But I'm Right. so much of his behaviour and the strain on his relationships with his sons and all that is sooo...informed by the fact that to cope with having to be lord of a country at war he had to be so so unbending. he couldn't allow himself to waver, ever, not even for love, not even to save his sons.

did you know he was 21 when sauron returned. pov you are 21 years young and you have been alone all your life you are the steward's only son you are his strange numenorean heir and no one else has the LITERAL PSYCHIC POWERS AND VISIONS that you do and you have had to contend with that, alone. master your own mind, alone. learn how the shape of politics and lordship and life bends around you. and the dark lord the enemy who brought down your forebears has now set his eye on your lands again. Jesus Christ. How Would You Fucking Deal. sorry i would have a nervous breakdown and go and live in the desert. Man. TWENTY ONE? LIKE ME? most days i feel like a teletubby with a job and a credit card. if you scale it to account for numenorean lifespan inflation i mean i don't know how the math works but like. i bet it comes out to being like. 17. HELLO? basically everyone i know was barely a person at 17. the dark lord of all evil and he's MY problem to deal with?

i mean exactly. haven't we all been prideful and angry and resentful. haven't we all been there. once again [pippin voice] let's all understand poor denethor a little better. havent you ever been taken under the darkness of life [your paragraph here] yeah exactly what you said. the idea that he fucking won the war against the darkness and only lost to despair is..........so much! goodbye i have to go cry!

faramir, me AND fate's most special precious little guy....oh captain my captain....exactly. Exactly. i cant morally endorse a reread right this second but like. After. make it through finals and then it is Faramir Time. (and good luck! you got this!) tactical smartass little bitch master of both man and beast wizard's pupil (complimentary) star and hope and jewel of minas tirith knight in shining armour...my beloved. the idea that like faramir as presented, as the diplomat, as the scholar, as the numenorean, was supposed to be the one to go to rivendell...it haunts me. where is denethor sends the right son to do the right job.txt. he is gondor's no. 1 horse girl he is better suited to the wild than the battlefield he has read every sindarin text in the library he KNOWS the story of elrond and elros. he is literally telepathic and psychic and prophetic. thinking about him interacting with elrond and galadriel (and every other elf. but them in particular) makes me feel deranged. its very...self taught dnd wizard meets guy who went to wizard school energy. he's insane.

YEAH ITS CRAZY THAT THEYRE THE SAME GUY. it's. boromir gets to be boromir but faramir has to be denethor.txt. gracious and lordly as a king of old...now who is consistently referred to as noble and kingly...that a younger faramir would've looked up to...yeah. the perpetuation of denethor's second-best complex. i have a whole nother post in the drafts about that i CANT get into it here but jesus christ men who are NOT breaking the cycle. they even look the same. i mean 37 year old faramir as steward is 100% the spitting image of his father and that makes me....genuinely fucking insane actually. i mean like older councillors are doing double takes every time he walks by. i mean like sometimes people call him by the wrong fucking name. WOW where did that come from. the complex that that would give him...hello? turning this over inside my brain at WARP speed.

you are not late at all lol we are leaving little letters in each other's mailboxes to read when we have the time. i hope your exams go well!!! there will be more Faramir And Denethor Hours soon<33

[aroace-cat-lady]

Im particulary happy rn and i wanted to take the time to say how much i adore the aspec community.

Its the greatest community ive ever been in, and i feel strangely greatful for saying that im part of it.

I know im not the only one who felt like their world was falling apart at the beggining of the Sexual Crisis™️. There was a time when feeling comfortable with being aroace seemed impossible, that there was no way i could get to be proud of it. I used to wonder if i'll get to a point where i wouldnt think about my sexuality so much, if i'll get use to it so much that it'd be like breathing, a natural thing that i could do without thinking about it.

That day hasnt come yet. I still thinking about it everyday, but i dont wish it just go away anymore. I dont feel a heartache when i see the words written down, the thoughts i have are full of light and calmness (or rage, but for a completely different reason), and actually it comforts me a lot.

And im so proud of myself for that. When i look back to the time i was struggling with being aroace, all i see is how sad and desperate i was. I passed my days angry and my nights crying. I felt like my life was out of my control, that i had been running for so long and i needed a rest, that i would never found a spark on my life to call home. I felt alone.

I dont feel alone anymore. And its all because of this amazing community. Because there are so many people that decided to found each other and face this absurd world together.

And yeah, i know its not perfect. I know we have our discussions, and polemics and different beliefs, pov, philosophies, etc. And that some people are mean or even cruel with those who doesnt share their same view over somethings.

But i think its worthy. Because its something i can call mine, something we can call ours. And im so fucking greatful for it.

[nahalism]

heyyyyy 🖤 ofc ignore and dont feel pressured to answer if this goes into too personal territory. Did you ever get diagnosed/got suspected personality disorder(s) and (if yes) did it give you any guidance/deeper understanding of yourself?

<3 heyy, — i havent been diagnosed with a personality disorder, although there was a period of time i questioned if i had bpd, specifically quiet bpd. there are still symptoms of bpd i resonate with, but they could be related to other mental health issues ive dealt with (depression, anxiety, cptsd etc) so idk. tbh, because of how cloudy it all gets, i no longer look to being diagnosed as a solution. i personally dont want to be medicated, & outside of medication, allopathic medicine (imo) doesnt have answers or solutions for the 'issues' i face. ive used therapy during moments where i feel unable to look after myself/see the situation at hand clearly, (mostly to make sure i dont regress / i have someone objectively able to evaluate my decision making, which helps a lot cause when im spiralling i can doubt myself & feel out of touch with reality) but thats about it.

that said, every symptom ive dealt with/deal with, has helped me understand myself. the way i see it every problem pushes you toward its solution. e.g, (trigger warning) self harm was a symptom of the issues i was dealing with. it led me to understand that i struggled with regulating my emotions and that i held a lot of rage. i also realised that when i experience deep rage (rooted in fear), i take it out on myself, not on others. partly cause i didnt want to harm people, also because as much as the people, or situations i was in, caused me harm, i didnt want to push them away/give them a reason to 'leave me/my life' because that would reopen wounds i had regarding abandonment and not being good enough. each realisation was something i had to confront and deal with individually. thats just one example, but hopefully it details how i acknowledge symptoms i experience, then unpack them to point me in the direction of solving the issue.

knowing these things doesnt make the issue disappear. i still get distressed, and at times my impulse is still to hurt myself. but because ive taken time to understand the issue, i have coping mechanisms in place that help me self regulate and put things in perspective (e.g journaling, mindfulness practices, learning to address situations, and communicate my issues rather than take it out on myself). at first its not easy and it feels like 90% failing. sometimes you'll know the right thing to do, & not want to do it, orrr be doing the wrong thing whilst knowing what the right thing to do is. but awareness is the first step, and eventually it gets easier. over time (and by choice) ive learned to respond to myself with love. even though i have urges to be self destructive, i have enough compounded experience and perspective on what being destructive does to me and the people i care about to not do it. deeper than that, ive trained myself to stop recognising stress and chaos as 'normal' or my baseline. shadow work helps with this a lot. id recommend reading 'owning your own shadow' by robert a johnson, it helped me understand what to do with the left over destructive energy i was no longer using & how to put it into creativity rather than let it be damaging—

i know this was super long but i had to be specific because imo theres a lot of people who claim personality disorders are a life sentence / or who demonise people who struggle with them and that something i have never agreed with or felt was fair. i do think recovery is possible. however please bare in mind, im sharing my experience & whilst i stand on it & believe it can work for anyone, i have not been diagnosed with a personality disorder. it is completely possible ive found solutions to an issue/symptom that crosses over but does not belong to the issue ur asking me about. (e.g someone could use ashwaganda to solve their anxiety & panic attacks, but that might not work for someone who has panic attacks triggered by ptsd). the way i went about things was unconventional. it worked for me, but has taken a long time, has not been easy & im aware its not a path everyone would choose. (im not saying that to be quirky. its literally given me everything but cost everything in the process). if this resonates and feels like something you can do i highly recommend it. but if you begin to struggle, get lost in the weeds or feel like medication/therapy & whatever other solution better suits you, plsplspls do what it right for you and safest for you.

🖤 sending u big love. i hope this helped

[pwblogarchive]

June 2007

June 4, 2007

goodbye the longest year of my life.

sometimes i want to blow my head but not in a hottopic kind of way.

i am global warming.

i am toxic.

sometimes i am glad i saved everything for a rainy day.

i am a wish.

i am under your skin.

i love you and life:

separate but never equal.

fuck it.

its all okay.

"Too young to hold on and too old to just break free and run..."

posted by xo at 8:05 PM

June 6, 2007

“its easy to get older not so much wiser”

"pooh"

"yes, piglet"

"nothing, i just wanted to be sure of you"...

posted by xo at 8:40 AM

June 7, 2007

“fuck the palm readers, i love mirror breakers.”

i have an obsession with sitting inside a confessional in church and hearing someone else spill their guts for once.

id almost take an oath for it.

get me out of new york.

this city only gets me up to making bad decisions.

love, the last boy.

posted by xo at 10:40 PM

"the christian in christian dior, damn they dont make them like they used to anymore..."

if i bashed your head in how good would the secrets be that poured out.

posted by xo at 4:00 PM

June 9, 2007

“late night snack”

the light splashes in and out. its almost violent. everything rational inside of me tells me that its the dull white of a voicemail. but my eyes are playing tricks on me. i see it purple textured velvet. the tv is blaring whatever. i can see light is sneaking in the cracks everywhere of this suite. like vermin. take a vote, the eyes have it. there is too much space here. between me and everything else in this room. i wish i had a habit bad or not just to pass the time. just trying to fight the big black sadness.

June 9, 2007

“sic transit itum”

Theres an opposite to deja vu. They call it jamais vu. Its when you meet the same people or visit places, again and again, but each time is the first time. Everybody is s stranger. Nothing is ever familiar.

This isn't learning from my mistakes anymore so much as it is damage control. I might as well be trying to paint a house that's on fire.

Posted by xoat 11:33 PM

June 11, 2007

“counting sheep and you.”

tour life has got my fingers spitting from a pornographed philosophers mind. girls with bruises in designer patterns. too full off the diet pills to be hungry for iceburg lettuce and water lite when it shows up. i trapped you in my head a long time ago. i am a treasure chest filled with trash. two orders: one near tears and one beer tears. just put em on my tab.

dont you dare tell me about true fucking love. i spit and punched and blood for it. and now i want to sleep inside of it.

June 12, 2007

“cantsleepcantsleepcantsleep”

dont you feel bad for the suicidal cat thats stuck with 9 lives.

my head only goes from zero to rage.

like a domesticated animal giving into instinct.

carved our names into a tree

and i dont care that i saw it first in some movie.

i think ill always go back and see if it sticks.

i feel like the santa maria. like i got there just after the discovery.

heads like this are gonna go extinct.

posted by xo at 5:53 AM

June 14, 2007

“lullabye.”

everybody is dropping like flies.

the truth is i am a slave to my head and my thoughts, not the other way around.

i am the hand up the skirt of this moment. over underwear, under pants.

under medicated. underwhelmed.

me and you in a not so private corner.

duke it out with our lips and teeth.

ill find the love if its there between your cavities.

dust it off.

its a cold hard ride back from where ive been.

what ive seen.

and what ive done.

or how ive come undone.

apples that make your teeth bleed

love that makes my heart coma-

keep careful count of your tears in that corner-

the market is shit.

they arent going for what they used to.

keep em in a jar-

bury them in a wine cellar.

so you can remember when you felt like just a madman.

im a trust junkie.

i need a fix.

i have so much i want to say. none of it is eloquent or poetic- referencing change and belief- lies and betrayal. how sometimes this ride doesnt feel fun anymore, when the press is controlling it. i will post when i have formulated all of the thoughts. i am tired of constantly defending this, its enough to defend it to the world- but to defend it to believers has drained me. i am only human, a kind of lousy one at that. i am 1/4 of this thing that has felt magical to me for so long. i dont want to lose it. i hope this makes some sense.

i hope i am a boomerang on its way back not some stone sinking in the sea.

thank you to everyone who has stood beside this and me- in both the light and the dark. it means more than a handshake or hug or song,,,

on a good note. the video felt genuinely fun to make. so thank you for taking part in it. the smiles are real.

goodnight.

posted by xo at 11:49 PM

June 17, 2007

“i may be just a dime store prophet. but youre a dollar store whore.”

so i guess i am on the up. thunder on runways cant even kill the boredom. the tips of my fingers bruised from the letters on the typewriter. but if feels so much more final than this. and that is why i love it. and i said the last time i was put in handcuffs it was over a can of spraypaint. she said 'someday i want to spraypaint with you". and that is why i love her. in a backyard, lying on the couch on a sunday kind of way. one that is not explained or thought out. but runs up the back of your legs to the back of your head and crashes out of my mouth whenever you show up. what keeps your head together when you feel the tilt and spin of the world. what keeps those club jaws grinding in between the trips to the bathroom. the best week never. theyre taking stabs at me while im leaning and yawning, but sometimes YOU get through. pinpricks become blackholes and i feel my moods pulled into them. whats up with my obsession with your obsessions. been writing so much lately the paper is starting to add up. theres a part of me that wants to take a match to it sometimes late at night- the same part inside that cant walk next to balconies for fear that i am going to jump off of them.

i can make a mess of anything. but its strange to say when a stranger can bring you peace. you just swaying in the heat of the meet and greet. a face and a voice i dont know. just a tap on the shoulder and a "keep your chin up" from you. but there was a kindness there that brought me back. thank you.

June 19, 2007

so obvious but: i fucking hate this sugar free low carb diet world. i want the wild fucking west. i want love in handcuffs. i want more scars. i dont want this fucking future. meth bake sales to lower global warming. sweat shop work to burn calories. i hope this ship burns before it sinks. i hope this planes air goes bad before it crashes. i dont want this to be an affair anymore, i want to walk down the aisle with catastrophe. lets go to hell just for the weekend. your happiness is making me miserable. waste the time of my life. and if that mocking bird wont sing, im gonna buy you a diamond ring.

i only feel in love on the stage and on the side of a pillow. everything in between just makes me wish myself to pieces. please dont put me back together, keep me in a box under your bed.

June 20, 2007

i hate explaining my own interpretations to people. id rather you come up with your own- but this one seems to be pretty glaring....

there is a distinct difference between the idea "seasons change, but people dont" and the idea "everyone changes". this difference is simply the connotations of the two. in the former: the idea is brought forth that there are certain parts of you that are inherently there. forever. whether they are a part of your DNA or how you were raised- they are so deep and solidly rooted they cannot change. to me these are your ideals, your morality, your internal monologue. they remain constant though are defined differently as your mind and heart mature. to simplify, people who are kind have something switched on within them that will not change. on the other extreme malicious people will always be malicious. not to say there isnt gray area between the two- where someone who is kind can act maliciously and vice versa. obviously there are more rare examples where something can impact someone in such a tremendous way that it will cause a deep change in them. these remain constant through celebrity, through tragedy, through happiness, through loss. i can feel certain things in myself and ways that i know i will always feel- no matter what else changes around me. if you read my actual diary entries from when i was 14 to now, while the language and subject matter has changed- and hopefully has gotten a bit better. my subconscious impacting me and my decisions seems to remain faithful. however, what was meant by the latter "everyone changes, i used to be tiny", is the idea of growing up. honestly, i am not who i was a year ago or 5 years ago or 10 years ago. i think i would hate myself if i never changed. this is an experiment more than anything. if new cultures, people, and art didnt impact me and change me than this would be fraudulent. we expect any of our fans who have been with us from the beginning have grown and changed. i hope most of these changes are for the better, though i know i am human and make mistakes. sometimes i turn right when i should have turned left. but anything you loved or hated about me from the beginning have not changed- these are the things that make us each different from each other and either magnetize or polarize from others.

June 22, 2007

“the AMERICAN dayDREAMer - die-a-tribe”

when they rip the tickets i hope im on the ride with you. sleepless in seattle and pretty much everywhere else- wont bore you with the details, but actually i probably will. you dont have to be a train to come off track. dont have to have feathers to flee the coop. i dont gotta tell you about my adventures, i keep them in my head and forget them and remember them every once in awhile. i watch them on projector screens while you are talking about your magazine or countdown. were flypaper baby- but nothings sticks. molded from teflon and porcelain. doesnt take much shining around for you to want to get back under that rock you crawled out from. i found a point when i was searching for pointlessness. i found a love when i was looking for madness. gonna save your sweat for when we get to heaven. autocratic hearts and throats- tongues loving on the skin and words- listening too carefully and robbing them of their beauty. you only think im blooming when im wilting on the outside. dying to be dearly forgotten, not wrongly remembered. florescent yellow in the toilet bowl. i love holding strangers hands, pulses matching, beating just off the p.a. speakers. you dont have to sell me on how this isnt real, cause my guts are whats in deep not my head or my heart. sometimes i get the feeling when i walk into a room like im in some movie from the forties where ive been shipwrecked and marooned on a desert island, only to return to a life that is no longer mine. or maybe just a raft adrift, except i slept through the s.o.s. calls. the caveman frozen in ice analogy works as well, only i am too lazy to transcribe it. im projecting. im bobbing and weaving. im deflecting. only cos i want to mean more than all of this. i lost it at woodrow and nichols, brakes ground to my teeth. just a kid strung out on neon lights

June 26, 2007

dear man in the mirror: get over yourself.

i love it when people wonder how its gonna end.

my right hand is fucked.

boxers fracture im pretty sure and a cut down the front that we super glue every night.

if i shake you yr hand with my left thats why.

im clumsy-

with both actions and words.

what happens in vegas stay in vegas except for when brendon hit me with a bowling ball.

deaths just the other bookend on this thing, so who cares.

posted by xo at 12:28 AM

June 28, 2007

The world is your oyster, what does that mean? That I'm just grinding sand waiting to be sucked down by box dye blondes and chased with hynotik. .... dumb-luck, but there's no such thing as smart luck. Think It got us kicked out of vegas. Happy as a clam but how happy can clams be? Dreaming of being steamed or robbed of their only worldly possession, pearls, sounds like a total soccer mom fantasy- only with upscale spas and mugger fantasies. I am a starfish waiting to regenerate a point. Till then, I am kind of pointless. I got a bad rap for not caring but I still pay taxes and wear my seat-belt in back seats- though I'm considering changes. I am a fixer-upper. Feeling the buzz but too far off the hive for any of the other bees to get it. And man I gotta tell you, the years are like friends in your old hometown. They stop being so friendly. They only want to reminisce. And no matter what they keep moving and changing you whether you want them to or not. The doctor says I need to stop talking with my fist and do more talking with my mouth. I told him I was never too great at that either- that it was usually my mouths talking that had to get my fist involved in the conversation. He said well then I had better start throwing a good left or hope I can play bass one handed. Neither seems too reasonable right now. Thinking maybe I should just stop all together. I order every movie in hotel rooms just so I don't feel alone. Its a very home alone moment for me, you know without the holiday music and cute culkin looks, but I'm hoping you are catching my drift anyway. Yes, for those who wonder there are other journals online. Sometimes I kind of leave bread-crumbs to get home to them for you. Sometimes I just space out. I also have a pen and paper diary and some letters and what not that I have been typing on my typewriter. I've been working on other visual art too, nothing I like well enough to show anyone. Its more for my own piece of mind. Drive, fuck, and sleep safe. I'd like to know that you awaken in the morning with out a headache or blurry eyes. Love is in the air, just get ourselves the right equipment to grab it. Its like moths headed for the brightest light, which aint me. But I'm ready to sweat and run and get there. And just cause you got a scar on your wrist or a charcoal stomach, were supposed to get eachother? Cause I don't really even get me. I'm too busy calling everyone else crazy- in these late slurred debates on how everyone else is not exactly like us- to worry about you calling me crazy. Tho all the other rhymes for crazy work on me lazy, hazy, etc.

someone has some great pictures of this past week. if i find any, ill post some.

June 28, 2007

from pete's friends or enemies blog

June 28, 2007

“the pretend”

i never really appreciate the compliments people give me. i feel like people say them because they feel like they have to- "youre hot"- except in my head i dont see myself that way so it doesnt mean a thing. "you played great tonight"- except i probably didnt because its not really my thing. "i love your words"- except they only make sense to me out of patricks mouth. "i love you"- but you wouldnt if you knew me. and so on.

but the other day my friend told me: "you have an incredible sense of the pretend". and it made me shake. just in the way that its all i believe. i dont care too much for the ins and outs of the world we are inside. i like the one in my head far better. it is not chronological or pragmatic. but it meant alot to me.

as did this...

so i cant fully remember writing this entry. that is because my brain is scattered and resets all of the time. the only thing i save room for are faces and memories. maybe it is a collection of entries. but apparantly someone cared enough to remember or patch together an entry from a year ago... so thank you (i think they made little changes or additions here and there). its funny because i am in vancouver all over again, it rings so much more true now.

"and like florence nightingale and nurses through history. we fall in love with those were protecting and curing. we dream big and then wake up everyday and hunch over computer screens. and everytime we let our fingers go it amounts to a little more than the worlds smallest violin paying just for you. here i am half asleep between vancouver and salt lake city. can't remember the last time i had a conversation with you that wasn't from between the dotted lines of the highway. i don't want sheep or parrots. i feel like we have a vested interest in each other. it's love of sorts. you were there in the beginning, you've stuck around when everyone else climbed aboard, i hope you're there when it's gone. for all the times we've come off course, you have always served as a compass. steady. unforgiving. at times hard to find. but you were always there. this probablly isn't worth your time to read. but as long as you do we'll keep playing small, secret shows. we'll keep writing this. we'll keep ignoring what they say. this is we- everyone- the haters, the newbies, the so, the ckk, ock. a collective [[sigh of relief]]. everyone always asks what's the cure of growing up? this is it. it's you. the smiling faces screaming and 'doging' security in the front row. the kid that waits outside after the show until their hands are blue just to say hi. don't ever let me fucking forget it. we don't deserve this. but now that we got it. we will do our best to keep it like a kiss in the corner of our mouths. for our heads to your speakers, to your ears, to your mouths, to you, your fingers, to us, to our mistakes, to our heads and back. the new songs are coming. what if for one moment we became everyone we dreamed we could be? there is a buzzing from outside of this darkened room. as though if i walked down the hallway past their sleeping faces, red in the warmth of the afternoon. i would walk into the first day of my life. light gleaming off the windshield- like the wizard of oz after the color washes over everything. like i could start all over again- only with the same faces that are imprinted on my heart forever. and my same bed. and dogs. and ex- loves. and friends. save your troubles for another day, they wern't at the end of the hallway. baby boy, you're too busy writing tragedy to notice. we're shaping up to do big things. and you're nothing special. except.. what if you are? "

posted by xo at 8:01 PM

June 29, 2007

i never really appreciate the compliments people give me. i feel like people say them because they feel like they have to- "youre hot"- except in my head i dont see myself that way so it doesnt mean a thing. "you played great tonight"- except i probably didnt because its not really my thing. "i love your words"- except they only make sense to me out of patricks mouth. "i love you"- but you wouldnt if you knew me. and so on.

but the other day my friend told me: "you have an incredible sense of the pretend". and it made me shake. just in the way that its all i believe. i dont care too much for the ins and outs of the world we are inside. i like the one in my head far better. it is not chronological or pragmatic. but it meant alot to me.

as did this...

so i cant fully remember writing this entry. that is because my brain is scattered and resets all of the time. the only thing i save room for are faces and memories. maybe it is a collection of entries. but apparantly someone cared enough to remember or patch together an entry from a year ago... so thank you (i think they made little changes or additions here and there). its funny because i am in vancouver all over again, it rings so much more true now.

"and like florence nightingale and nurses through history. we fall in love with those were protecting and curing. we dream big and then wake up everyday and hunch over computer screens. and everytime we let our fingers go it amounts to a little more than the worlds smallest violin paying just for you. here i am half asleep between vancouver and salt lake city. can't remember the last time i had a conversation with you that wasn't from between the dotted lines of the highway. i don't want sheep or parrots. i feel like we have a vested interest in each other. it's love of sorts. you were there in the beginning, you've stuck around when everyone else climbed aboard, i hope you're there when it's gone. for all the times we've come off course, you have always served as a compass. steady. unforgiving. at times hard to find. but you were always there. this probablly isn't worth your time to read. but as long as you do we'll keep playing small, secret shows. we'll keep writing this. we'll keep ignoring what they say. this is we- everyone- the haters, the newbies, the so, the ckk, ock. a collective [[sigh of relief]]. everyone always asks what's the cure of growing up? this is it. it's you. the smiling faces screaming and 'doging' security in the front row. the kid that waits outside after the show until their hands are blue just to say hi. don't ever let me fucking forget it. we don't deserve this. but now that we got it. we will do our best to keep it like a kiss in the corner of our mouths. for our heads to your speakers, to your ears, to your mouths, to you, your fingers, to us, to our mistakes, to our heads and back. the new songs are coming. what if for one moment we became everyone we dreamed we could be? there is a buzzing from outside of this darkened room. as though if i walked down the hallway past their sleeping faces, red in the warmth of the afternoon. i would walk into the first day of my life. light gleaming off the windshield- like the wizard of oz after the color washes over everything. like i could start all over again- only with the same faces that are imprinted on my heart forever. and my same bed. and dogs. and ex- loves. and friends. save your troubles for another day, they wern't at the end of the hallway. baby boy, you're too busy writing tragedy to notice. we're shaping up to do big things. and you're nothing special. except.. what if you are? “

June 30, 2007

I have a new girlfriend

The iphone.

posted by xo at 4:46 PM

[harmonicunt]

i rly cant see myself as separate from the primordial soup. every flaw i see in others is a reflection of myself, every joy too. every cruelty, all kindness. so many people see themselves as leaning towards one or another, but thats wrong, isnt it ? we're capable of all, in our own particular ways. youll pin yourself & doom growth if you put yourself in one corner.

narratives about who you are are mostly about who you think you are--and the thinking is only one fractal of it. i think ive been afraid of defining myself by the "doing" part of my existence because for so long i didnt feel like the "doing" was anything important or interesting or fulfilling. i didnt have language to show what it was teaching me, what it really meant--it was all isolation, and boredom, and rage. it was that, and it was more, and now that im still doing many of the same things alongside that which i truly want, which i find self respect in, which i am fulfilled through, i can see how i could've used different language to spin it in a different light, to be less lonely and afraid of myself. as my story evolves and changes each time i tell it, as others' stories of me grow (and i learn to listen to them, and trust them), im open to all the ways i hadn't seen before, and i understand how blind we are to who we are in one particular moment. reflection must come second.

thinking & doing are two pillars of our selves, pillars we learn to build and tear down and build again. i'm trying to figure out where our control over those pillars lie. i know there are more--we are more than what we think and what we do--and i know we can change and reshape them, but the first shaping is amazing to begin with. is the first shaping the one everyone else does when we're young, and we don't know how to do it ourselves? or the one we do when we emerge, when we look at how our pillars been formed for us--a necessary evil, unfortunately,--and we decide that it should be something else, something that belongs to us? some people never make their own, and i think many of them are very unfulfilled. each one is unique. the idea you can control it utterly, shape yourself into anything you want, is partially a false narrative, addressed by the fact that at first we have no control over what shape it takes. then, i think almost everyone finds there is an immutable self they can never put a finger on, no matter how long they circle around it. you repaint, and carve in new grooves, and add height or branches. you circle around a self you won't know until you've found them. we have many methods of circling around to the self, of seeing what fits with the pillar we think we want to create, and then adjusting when we realize that's not quite the look we thought it'd be.

i've employed a few strange ones through my life, one of the most curious that i come back to often being kin & kinning. a sort of pinning that often felt like a chicken/egg situation, even while i was in it i found it fascinating. what i was and what i wanted to be and what i thought i would be (i was kinning when i was 12-16ish, so i wasn't much of anything but a ball of energy and wanting) merged together into these grand pulls to characters who werent necessarily favorites but made me fucking insane because of what of myself i saw in them (sometimes it still happens, but it's gotten weirder and more specific as ive aged, and harder to explain or project to others who dont already know me.)

i dont know where im going with this. can we ever know ourselves if we dont know who we are to others ? if we dont listen to what they say about us? it feels bad when someone doesnt take what youve said about them, compliment or criticism or neutral, seriously. people who ignore compliments or use them to insult themselves, and people who ignore criticism and tell themselves that they are the best at something you have been struggling with them for, convincing themselves that the problems they run into are external and eschewing responsibility. how far can we push our own self actualization before collapsing? how happy can we convince ourselves we are, not knowing the joy on the other side ? what tells us that we're miserable in the shape that's been built for us? why do we all seem to forget from time to time that everyone else has been using the same scale of time that we have been to build theirs? why do we flatten them to the pillar we see in one moment, inconsiderate of what came before ? it's self-centered, and that's seen as very dirty, but we can't be anything but self-centered when we're only in our own heads, right ? generosity, consideration, kindness, respect, so much of that is in the eye of the beholder. what we think of as universally decent can make another think of us as deeply annoying, even rude, culturally or personally. idk. we're all the same and we're all different and it's weird and i could add questions and ponderings to this forever but ill stop here. i love you.

[shi-kiori]

Note 12: Rage and Pain

hello. it's 2024, and its been a year since i last posted. not to say in the least that ive been better. ive been tolerating, i feel like is the right word. but what made me write this now is my ongoing anguish with life, with family, with work and in general, with myself. new year, new me right? the things we tell ourselves hoping for better times, less painful moments. to keep that hope is good yet blinding and painful at the same time.

i drove to work and home today. as i was on the way home, being the ever-so reserved daughter and woman i am, talked to myself about my problems, about my mental anguish and about my sadness. i feel like its nothing new. ive been posting about pretty much my depression here as an outlet for a lack of a better term. in talking to myself, did i let my tears fall. in talking to myself, did i realize that i truly am alone in this world. to share my pain with no one else. to have nobody understand the things i want to share, the deeply rooted sadness that contains me in every day i live, i breathe in the world. its no secret here that my family is the number one source of my rage yet my pain at the same time and this is because of my love for them. truly a curse i dont think ill ever get up from. and i wanted to write here again to let this out. my words are slurring and i feel tears well up inside me yet all i can do is mask them in front of the people i so desperately want to cry to. its pathetic and its sad really. im turning 25 this year and yet my secret wants and desires still stem from things i shouldve gotten over 10 years ago.

its in this that the sadness in my heart continues to spread its roots. i had to cry by myself to sleep this week bc of how inconsiderate they are and of how invalidated, unappreciated and unloved i felt from the people i care about my family. i know the most obvious thing to do is to talk to them but when you've tried and tried and it never worked, why would u bother?

tw/ self harm, suicide

ive thought abt killing myself honestly, its gotten that bad these past months. idk if ill ever feel good about myself if its always just temporary. the greatest downs are complemented with the greatest highs. like im in a soap opera waiting for my great climax and my great downfall at the same time.

and yet again as im writing this down, im silently killing the hope in me that ill ever feel okay about this. ive been reading books to meditate, to recenter myself, to feel.....something. instead of slicing my skin, instead of feeling the blood trickle down, i want to try to be better.

until then, im just a fire running on fumes ive never wanted to use in the first place.

and if there is a god up there and if there is an angel silently watching my every move, i pray that i do feel better without needing my family for it.

oh a tragedy, and yet the comedy that is my life

-end-

[s-omething]

does it hurt less over time or does the wound just keep on opening more and more? im starting to think its either getting worse or i am making it worse. and then yeah i probably am. "i hope you get everything you want and i hope i never hear a thing about it" but i keep looking for it, searching for all the ways you didn't want to be with me, when i was the one who actually left. why does it feel like you had left me a long time ago? why not me? what in me had you so bored? now you do everything i had to beg for, and that you always disliked, with so much joy. it makes me feel like im rotting inside. was i ever this small and disgusting? did i always have these ugly feeling inside me? i dont want to be this person, but i just keep getting more tired and more angry and more hopeless about everything, i kepe wanting the pain and then wanting it gone. i keep not feeling anything and then everything all in one day, all the feelings at once, paralyzing me in bed for hours and then nothing no joy, i get up finally and do whatever daily tasks i can manage to do (not much) and then im tired again, feeling nothing and nothing and its boring but also what else? and what for? nothing is really interesting to feel anymore, ive seen it all, or enough ive felt love, ive felt pain and joy and everything and there's nothing new. i meet someone, and the first thing i think is "ive seen all this before, whats the point?" am i really done? when i think about it, maybe, yes ive loved someone in a way ive never loved before i thought you were what family was meant to be i felt loved in a way i never really beliebed was possible and its all gone it ends, it really ends, doesnt it? you said it wouldn't but i think that was fucking coward to say, and i fucking understand it!!! but it ends, we can't deny it and i guess it feels ugly cause youre still loved, you still have the capacity to try again and have that joy in your life, but i failed so badly i can't even connect with friends anymore, much less lovers, i can't even connect with myself anymore. when i went the lowest this year, i had no one to be there for a hand to hold. no, you werent there either, and yes i hate that you promised you would. the thing is, this time i tried to do different, i tried asking for help without trhowing my shit into people, and the answer i got back was desvastantingly lonely, i dont plan on asking for anyone's help anymore, it was bullshit. i am not blaming anyone for this, but believing it would help feels so stupid. see. i can feel it coming out of my words. angry. like an angry dog, yes. filled with rage it doesn't know where all of it comes from or what to do with it.

[completleymessy01]

02/12/23

I dont know why its taken me so long to write a new entry. The amount of things that have changed in my life in the last few months are crazy. Okay so firstly, S found out she has cancer. And I broke up with M. I know, two crazy massive big things that have happened. I have exams in less than two weeks and I cannot focus. I am studying 7 hours a day and I cannot focus. I am angry, im so angry I have started running . Which is very unlike me. I feel the rage boil in my blood and if it isn't rage im feeling its anxiousness. To the point where my adrenaline is pumping hard through my body and I feel so on edge that I cannot eat. Basically, I am feeling too much and I can't stop. My whole life has changed and ive never felt so stressed before. Am I going to pass my exams? Am I going to lose M forever. But then sometimes I feel happy and glad we broke up. I literally feel like im going to lose my mind, all I want to do is scream at the top of my lungs, scream and shout and hit walls and kick my legs and scream and scream and scream. I feel like nothing ever goes my way and that someone is out to get me. I feel like im being tested every single day, seeing how much I can take before I have a mental breakdown and lose the plot. Im telling you, im close to that. Whats the most frustrating is im letting men continue to ruin and rule my life. When M and I broke up I thought I would get back on the wagon, well ive never really been on the wagon, but anyway. I thought I would start dating since ive basically been sexually deprived for the last year and a half. And let me tell you boys are scary, lazy, assholes and im still letting my day revolve around them. I can't help myself, they take ages to reply, dont seem eager to meet and I still reply fast, I still meet them. Maybe im just ugly and they are trying to hint. And on top of that do I meet them? I dont want m to find out and that be it between us forever, as I do love him still. I also dont want to hurt him. I wish he would just sleep with someone else, it would make everything so much easier. I could hate him and I could move on, but no he is "waiting" for me. well fuck that. I really hope that this time in a month im doing better. I dont think I can continue this adrenaline pumping lifestyle its taking to much out of me.

[luckynumbersevenseven]

nolan said what do u call a graff bro w no gf? …homeless…

We hooked up recently and it felt. Weird and distant and like i was ? High? Or dissociated? Not present. Maybe it was just hitting his damn vape. Shit has so much nic. I dont think i can do the whole casual sex thing especially not while i rebuild (or build? Did it ever exist?) a healthy relationship to physical intimacy.

Every time i try masturbate i start to think of cam and my stomach drops. Its like meditating or focusing on your breath and the same thoughts about your breathing start to make u feel faint or like ur not really breathing. I cut him off. He responded to my letter at 3 am clearly fucked up. Probably should block him. Cant leave the door ajar because the desire to open it again never rests. Not fully.

Substance abuse as accountability/excuse/apology.

Jack sent me his “detox” playlist today from rehab. As if that will just…close all the gaps?

What is it with these boys and wanting to show up just to share music and disappear back into the night? Or their drug habit.

The boys w out moms….always the boys w out moms or very fraught relationships w them.

Holly the hairdresser ive had since i was like 11 told me today that she was a slut before she met her husband. Her words not mine. And she says he doesnt rly know. That when things from her past come up she’s like….erp and tells him to cover his ears and im like…?! Cant imagine sharing my life w someone or having kids w someone who doesnt know like. Everything about me. She and i talked about how our first boyfriends/crushes in middle school haunt our dreams consistently. She said hers stopped when she looked him up on facebook and saw that hes a truck driver/trump supporter these days. She will be 50 this year. I dont think ill ever stop having dreams of nico. Even though hes puffy faced from alcohol now, and getting swallowed up by both his ego/clout/fame and his demons.

Things i thought about today that i want to write about. San quentin and its location. The old people holding political signs that i saw over 580 east and on the road side in Berkeley. Generational shit. Connection…lack there of. Road rage and kindness in the service industry/ interacting w strangers. Rural life.

[cinefairy]

HOW I CHANGED MY LIFE AROUND USING LAW OF ASSUMPTION

i changed my life using law of assumption in a space of 5-ish months, now ive seen people change their life in 8 months, two weeks, a couple of hours and 1 day. it all depends on you. dont ever compare yourself to those success stories around you.

.˚♡ ⌇BEFORE LOA…

before law of assumption i was insecure, acne-covered face, “dumb”, i felt ugly, i was in an abusive physically and mentally household, was bullied at school for years, never felt safe, never felt loved and had suicidal thoughts for years, treated like crap from even my own friends and others, terrible grades + bad school life,

.˚♡ ⌇ AFTER LOA…

i literally got my desired life, i love myself and i manifested my desired appearance, desired body, the best school life and is about to go to a good university, i never have suicidal thoughts. i can do a wide-range of talents; dancing, ice skating, rollerblading/rollerskating, singing, art, crocheting etc, i feel safe everywhere i go, in a loving relationship with my boyfriend, got out of an abusive household, financially stable

these are just the things on top of my head i’ve manifested

.˚♡ ⌇ MY JOURNEY…

I discovered law of assumption August 2021 and ever since everything has went uphill from then. now, i’ve struggled, ive had setbacks, ive ranted and reacted i’ve given up and i’ve restarted so many times. but i knew my objective goal and i was never gonna let go,

first thing i ever did was SELF CONCEPT.

self concept made me realise and step into my bad bitch power, i was the only girl in the world, i was feeling confident and content. in situations where i would scream, shout and rage i acted completely different and didnt let the external cause me any more stress.

.˚♡ ⌇ I FOCUSED ON SELF CONCEPT BY..

my realisation:

me focusing on my self concept NOW no matter how hard it gets, no matter how many times ill see a door shut on my face (metaphorically), no matter what happens i will reach my desired self concept. if i focus on this now im gonna be so much confident in the future where i will truly flourish.

i dedicated my time (happily) when focusing on self concept. i was singing to my favourite songs in the bliss that i am perfect, i was dancing, i would take care of myself and treat myself like a queen. everyday was a “self-care day” i would balance out the hard tough love and the soft love. i would give myself a pat on the back for stepping out of my mindset’s comfort zone.

i would talk to myself, affirm to myself that everything will be alright, that im the opposite of what my parents told me. and its not what other people think about me thats important it’s actually what i think of MYSELF thats important.

I HAD TO. i was so sick and tired of living a life i didnt want, i gave up. i gave up entertaining the old story, i gave up overthinking the how, when, what. i stopped everything that was never benefiting me and focused all my time and energy into things that WILL.

and you can do it too, you can change your entire life. it just depends on YOU, do you want the best life for yourself? if so, stop secondguessing, stop thinking logically, stop wondering “did i do this method right..” because hell you dont even need methods just DO IT.

[maschotch]

I will die on the hill that the foyet arc was the last truly well done villain arc of the show (or maybe the best overall). Doyle was great in season 6, but the way they ended it in season 7 SUCKED. Everything about foyet, the fact that he won, the fact that they didn’t drag it out longer then it needed, the fact that it ended with hotch literally letting out years and years of pent up rage and murdering foyet. It didn’t feel over done, foyet didn’t feel over the top. He was scary not because he was absolutely op, because at the end of the day, he was a human, and he felt like he could be someone real. The replicator plot, mr scratch, cat adams, they didn’t come close because they either 1) just messed up the ending or 2) dragged for too long OR 3) they were just so overpowered that they almost didn’t feel connected to the real world. Foyet actually had a lasting impact. Hell, the rest of season five for me was almost impossible to watch because it just felt......depressing? I finished 100 and the end of his arc and that’s how I remember foyet. The unsub who actually won, who actually destroyed the life of a main character. Even if the other unsubs had their one good episode, I never finished their arcs with such a impactful feeling as I did with foyet.

i totally agree. read the first sentence and was like >>:( ready 2 defend doyle lmao but ur right the s7 thing just killed it. i think they did the build up to foyet better... idk i just like the way we see emily unravel.. hotch falling apart waiting for foyet to attack again just... ugh those eps are so miserable lmao

everything u said ab the overpowered unsubs is so fucking true. like its ridiculous that everyone has to have like a 182309 IQ and be a computer genius and also an expert chemist and have access to funds and jahwejfnakjcha like shut UP. foyet being just a man.. there's something so special about that. he just had so much patience.. and self control that rivals hotch's. but he was only ever just a man

that being said there are definitely some things that bring that whole arc way down. like haley dying for Man Pain... like oof. come on guys. we're better than that. haley's better than that. hotch is better than that. and the way they handled his return to work was just.. awful askjdhlgkj like ik they were probably scrambling for a way for hotch to stay on the team so he doesnt leave the show lmao but honestly he shouldve left. i mean there is the matter of pride. like if hotch quit his job then that's just another thing foyet took away from him. but like.. ur son is worth more than that lol maybe go be a dad for a bit

first two eps of season 5.... iconic. i love to see hotch suffer <3 but they took it to the point where even i was uncomfortable akjsdhgl like i love to see my chars get hurt bc im a freak or whatever but like.. man. what they did to hotch was fucking brutal. the team's reaction is also just... very well done akshdgl. like.. he's not infallible anymore. he plays that strong stoic role so well that i think its easier for them to forget that he really is just some guy like he's flesh and blood just like they are. reid and garcia's conversation "i dont think ive seen him blink" like they barely register him as human. not in a bad way.. i think its their own coping mechanism.. like no matter what they'll have hotch there to lead them and pull them back to their feet. and that picture shattered. vs morgan and emily who have a different perspective. morgan would think of hotch like reid/penelope but his experiences with his own father definitely doesn't let him delude himself into thinking anyone is completely safe/untouchable. so he worries but he worries with anger bc of how afraid he is of losing the man who means so much to him. emily never really saw him in the role the others see him as.. they all "grew up" with him, like he was there from the beginning of their careers as a profiler. emily views hotch more on equal ground, so hers really is just the concern of a friend.

i dont think criminal minds does well with overarching plots like that. they really do drag on for so long and getting like a five minute mention for 5/10 episodes in a row before getting back to the Unsub of the Week just feels.. weird. (which is why i think the build up to doyle felt so much more natural. she was actively trying to distract herself and act normal.) the replicator was kinda fun like he wasnt as annoying as some of the others. but yeah the hitmen arc and mr scratch... both of those dragged on for SEASONS and like oh my fucking god i dont give a shit anymore ajskhdlg every time i rewatch i care just as little as i did before. it just takes way too long

[kookingtae]

the equation of love (pt. 10)

pt 1 | pt 2 | pt 3 | pt 4 | pt 5 | pt 6 | pt 7 | pt 8 | pt 9 | pt. 10

professor yoongi x uni student reader

→scenario: When you met Yoongi in a club, you thought it was fate that brought the two of you together. But after you walked into your college math class for the very first time, you weren’t so sure anymore.

→genre: smut | fluff | angst

→word count: 10.5k

→a/n: alternatively: fuck it, it’s been five years and this wip has been staring at me for three of them, so im just gonna post it. i have not read this over since 2018, so pls dont judge me too harshly hhsdg it’s unedited and probably a bit cringy, but then again what ch of teol isnt? this is NOT all that i have planned for the series, but i figured something is better than nothing, right? and perhaps the saying better later than never applies here, too. maybe one day i’ll finally get around to finishing it (by then im sure no one will even be around to remember what teol is lmao) but until then, enjoy what ive been sitting on! and as always, if you’re still here, thank you for your endless patience and support with this series <3

→another a/n: after this will probably be an epilogue!

→tw: mentions of blackmail, r*pe and sexual assault (we mostly just get closure on the whole professor lee & jun situation!!)

→warning: this chapter is not a happy ending, but it’s not necessarily a BAD one either, so for those who don’t like to finish on an unhappy note, it’s up to you on whether you’d like to read it or wait for the epilogue to be posted!

Running water.

It was such a simple yet fascinating concept—atoms and molecules coming together to form the only substance on earth that has a natural state in all forms, while having the power to kill in three different ways. Solid, by hypothermia; liquid, by drowning; gas, by suffocation. This substance can take three different forms, yet it's most commonly a liquid, covering nearly 71% of the world with translucent bodies of water. Oceans, ponds, lakes—though the most enchanting of them all were rivers. They were always moving, crashing beyond rocks and bustling with the flow of the current and gravitational pull of the earth. Rivers were passionate, and strong, and no matter how hard one tried they couldn't break the whipping tide that was pushing against them. Nothing could cause the powerful force to falter.

But, like most things, even rivers must come to an end. The current stops flowing, and the waves stop breaking around the jagged rocks, and the powerful force that seemed it would never end dulls to a still, calm lull, as if the river was nothing more than a brief yet raging storm. All the passion, all the fight—over in a blink of an eye, left to dissipate into the mysteries of the vast ocean.

Staring down at the picture on the cell phone screen in front of me was like getting pulled by the current of a river; down, down, down I flowed until there was no river left around me and I was left stranded in the middle of the sea. Yoongi and I were once raging, and passionate, and ready to fight against anyone who tried to tear us down, but now the fight was over. We had been dragged too far, fading into a body of water that was not our own. This was bigger than us.

Yes, like the flow of a river, all things must come to an end.

"That's it," Yoongi gritted his teeth, and I felt the dip of the mattress beneath me as he rose to his feet in anger.

"Yoongi," I called his name in a warning tone, warily standing up from the bed and watching him move around the room. "What are you doing?"

"I'm over it," he said, hastily throwing the first articles of clothing he could grab from his drawers over his body. "I'm done dealing with all of this, Y/N! I'm going up to the school."

Despite the flare of determination that sparked in my heart at his words, his rage seeming to radiate off of him and onto me as well, I couldn't help the trepidation that I was also filled with; Yoongi didn't have a history of making rational decisions out of anger.

"Don't you think you should calm down first?" I offered, trying my best to match his pace around the room.

"No!" Yoongi suddenly skidded to a halt in front of me, his eyes wild and crazed. "I'm going to find her and I'm going to fucking kill her!"

I could only stand with a gaping mouth and watch as he stormed out of the room, leaving me with no choice but to pull on my old clothes and chase his stomping foot steps. He grabbed his keys before storming out of the apartment, down the stairs, and outside into the parking lot. I tried to ignore the blindingly bright sunlight as I squinted my eyes and continued after him.

"Follow me up to the school," Yoongi barked as he hopped into his car.

"Yoongi–" I started, but my consoling voice was cut off by the slam of his door. I frowned, scrambling to unlock my vehicle as his engine roared to life.

The drive to the university was a nerve-wracking one. I kept a watchful eye on Yoongi to make sure he wasn't speeding or swerving all over the road; they say you're not supposed to operate a vehicle while you're upset. Though it would seem my efforts were futile, because he did in fact speed and swerve, and all I could do was frown and try to keep up.

It wasn't that I wasn't angered by Professor Lee; I was furious, rage and disgust and frustration all stewing inside of me like a pot of water that was ready to boil over. But I just couldn't help but worry for Yoongi. I had always been the non-confrontational type, always hoping that with a little time things would get better if they were ignored long enough. But it would seem that my method was proven inefficient today, because as much as I had tried to ignore her antics, that wicked woman wouldn't stop at anything to make sure Yoongi and I were properly dragged through the mud and going down like a ship engulfed in flames. Yet as much as that angered me, I couldn't bare the thought of the turmoil it was causing Yoongi. I didn't know when I had started casting my own feelings aside and putting his above—it was a gradual thing rather than one, defining moment—but it was only another factor that proved how much I actually loved this man. And that very thought instilled a fear that shook me to the very bone.

We had a lot more to lose now than just his job and my education. We could be losing us. And that was more important now than it had ever been before.

Once we arrived at the university there were a lot of screeching brakes, messy parking and fumbling hands as I scrambled to catch up to his looming figure that seemed to stalk towards the building at an unnatural pace. The pounding of my heavy heartbeat was what drove me forward, anxiety rising with each quickened step that I took.

"Yoongi!" I yelled once I had lessened the distance between us, now dead center on the campus sidewalk. "Yoongi, wait!"

All of a sudden he whirled around, his abrupt halt causing me to crash straight into his chest. I let out a yelp in surprise, eyes wide and ready to interrogate him, before I felt the smooth curvature of his palms on either side of my face as he tilted my head up to his and slammed his mouth onto mine.

The world stopped spinning for a moment, everything around me fading into the motions of his plush skin, his soft lips exploding with flavor and spilling over my tastebuds, satisfying my thirst in a way that no water ever could. I didn't even question it for a second before I was melting into him, quite literally becoming putty in his hands as the rest of the world instantaneously escaped my mind.

It's funny the way that worked—the way he was able to completely erase everything that had once existed in the blink of an eye, just by his simple touch. Whether it was magic, or I was just that fucking whipped, I didn't know. But either way, I didn't possess the power to stop it even if I wanted to.

When Yoongi finally broke away, he was breathing heavily, his breath fanning across my face in cool puffs of air. "I don't care what anyone thinks anymore," he spoke onto my lips, his forehead pressing against mine with a firm force. "Let them see. The only thing I care about is you."

It was then that I was suddenly aware of our surroundings, the reality of our world crashing down around me as I glanced around at all the eyes watching us. It varied; there were those choosing to spare us a glance as they walked to and from their classes, those who stalled their current actions to lift their heads to us not once, not twice, but three times, and then there were those who stopped altogether, their widened eyes and slackened jaws dead giveaways that they knew exactly who Yoongi was: Professor Min, Algebra 101 instructor.

A stroke of his thumb across my cheek brought my attention back to him; I stared up into his eyes, the desperate look in them captivating me and making it impossible to look away. His chest was rising and falling beneath his shirt, his fingers were grappling at my face as he brushed my wisps of hair out of the way, silently begging me to understand, to agree with him.

And in that moment, I knew what I had to do.

My lungs were filled with a breath of newfound determination, dazed and driven by Yoongi's words and embrace. "I love you," I spoke with conviction, caressing the nape of his neck as if to give him more reassurance. "Let's go.”

With that I grabbed his hand, holding my head high for the rest of the campus to see as I started up Yoongi's stride towards the school's building. He was right beside me, weaving his fingers through mine and giving my hand an extra squeeze as if to say that he was here, that he was proud to let the world know that I was his and he was mine, and that he wasn't going anywhere.

We were going to take down Professor Lee.

The seminar room was empty of students when we stormed in. Seats were placed throughout the floor, papers were scattered on the desks, and Professor Lee was at the front of the room, fiddling with the cords from the projector screen.

At the sound of the door opening, her head snapped up. "Well well well, look what we have here," she smirked when she saw us, making no plans to move as she saw me marching over to her. "You know, I really don't think–"

Slap!

The impact of my palm to her face cut off her words, skin on skin contact crackling through the room and echoing into a deafening silence.

Professor Lee gasped, immediately grasping where a red mark was now forming on her cheek before looking up at me with wild eyes. "You just slapped me!" She cried in disbelief.

"You're damn right I did," I gritted my teeth, taking a threatening step towards her and raising my palm. "Want me to do it again?"

It was then that I felt Yoongi's hand on my back, the feeling having an instant calming effect over my senses whether he wanted it to or not. I sighed before visibly relaxing and lowering my hand.

"You're barbaric!" Professor Lee was foaming at the mouth, still holding her face with a slack jaw. "Are you forgetting that I'm a professor? When Dr. Kim finds out about this, I swear he'll–"

"Tell him!" I roared as loud as my vocal chords would let me. "Tell whoever, tell the whole world, I don't fucking care! I'm done with your bullshit, you selfish psychotic witch!"

With that I gave her one final shove against her shoulders, and when both of her hands flew out to grab ahold her surroundings in an effort to keep from falling over, I planted another slap right across her face. The impact stung my hand, but I didn't care. Seeing Professor Lee stumble through the air was worth it.

"Baby," Yoongi spoke in a gentle yet warning tone next to me, and I had almost forgotten he was there until I felt his grip slightly tighten around my waist. It was a comforting hold, as if to say he completely trusted and supported whatever I chose to do in this situation, but still a protective hold nonetheless. He wanted to make sure I wasn't going to get myself hurt.

"You know, what is your problem, exactly?" I tilted my head at her as she struggled to get her bearings straight. "Is there an actual reason you're doing all of this, or are you just mentally insane?"

"It–it's not right!" Professor Lee stuttered with wide eyes, raising a shaky finger to point at me and Yoongi. "Your relationship, it's–"

"Oh cut the bullshit, Sara," Yoongi let out a sound of disgust from beside me. "We all know that's not why."

"I... I..." she stumbled for words, wide eyes glancing back and forth between the two of us. "Who do you guys think you are? You can't just storm in here and start attacking me–"

I took a menacing step forward, pure rage making up for what I lacked in intimidation. "Are you fucking kidding me?" I fumed, reaching out to grab her again.

"No, please!" She suddenly cowered before I could get to her, shielding her head away from me with her arms. "I—Yoongi, I'm in love with you!"

Her confession sent me reeling backwards in a downwards spiral, my body instantly going limp as I watched her with a dumbfounded expression. A vast silence echoed throughout the room that could be cut with a knife before she finally spoke again.

"Ever since you started working here, I knew you were the one. I just knew it." Her voice was sad, exhausted now, and a look of defeat washed over her features.

"What?" Yoongi gaped in disbelief. "Sara, that was two years ago!"

"I know!" She spat harshly. "You don't think I know that? For two years, I had to deal with this silly crush I had on you. I had to spend every day with you, watching it bloom into love overtime, and there was nothing I could do about it."

"You could've just told me!" Yoongi exclaimed as if that was the obvious answer.

Professor Lee snorted humorlessly. "Yeah, and be made a fool of? No thanks." She lowered her eyes to the ground.

"Sara, we're grown adults. You could've acted like one and fucking said something to me about it, made a move, anything but drag my career under the bus!" Yoongi's voice was strained now, his eyes wide as if silently begging her to understand him while he was equally trying to understand her.

"I was going to!" She lashed out again while whipping her head up towards him. "I was working up the courage to ask you out on a date, and then I see that fucking slut on your lap and I–"

"Don't you dare call Y/N that," Yoongi suddenly growled, pushing past me and stepping towards her intimidatingly. "One more thing out of your mouth about her and I swear to god I will kill you right here, right now."

My breath hitched in my throat at his threat and I couldn't help but weave my arm around his to grab his hand, intertwining our fingers and squeezing tightly. He gripped mine back even tighter, as if he was desperately trying to latch onto whatever calming effect I seemed to have over him.

Professor Lee swallowed, choosing to stay silent and watch him carefully as jagged breaths rose and fell from her chest. "The point is," she continued on, "I saw you with someone else—someone who wasn't me. And that completely tore my heart to shreds."

"So the only solution is to ruin our lives," I chimed in sarcastically.

"I may not have gone about it the best way," she quickly gritted her teeth and shot me a glare before turning her attention back to Yoongi, "but I had to act on instinct. I still wanted to be with you, so I figured that maybe if I split the two of you up, you would have no one else to turn to but me."

Yoongi just stared at her, his face scrunched up in a mix of confusion and disgust. "Do you know how sick and twisted that is?" He asked.

"All I ever wanted was to be with you, Yoongi," she pleaded, her tone vulnerable now as she took a tentative step towards him and started to raise her hand up to caress his cheek. "I still do. It's not too late; we can leave now, just you and me and forget this whole thing–"

"Don't fucking touch me," he knocked her hand away with his forearm just before it could reach his face. "If you think I'm going anywhere with you, you're even crazier than I thought." He then stepped back to wrap his arm around my waist and pull me securely into his side. "I'm in love with Y/N, and I don't give a shit what rumors you or anyone else wants to spread about it. You're fucking pathetic."

At that moment there was the sound of a door bursting open, causing the three of us to turn our attention to the entrance of the room. There, standing in the doorway, was Dr. Kim.

The sight of him immediately deflated the elation I was feeling from Yoongi's words, instantly replacing them with a sense of anxiety and fear that lodged its way into my throat until I was sure I would die from suffocation. This was it; according to the text from Professor Lee, he had already seen the picture of me and Yoongi kissing. This was the moment that would decide our future forever.

I just hoped we had enough evidence against Professor Lee for him to take our side.

"So let me get this straight." Dr. Kim folded his hands on the dark oak wood of his office desk. "Professor Min and Y/N had relations before Y/N became a student here, while Yoongi was unaware of her age?"

"Yes sir," Yoongi nodded his head in assurance.

"And then you continued your relationship, even after finding out that she was your student."

"He didn't at first," I interjected in hopes of getting some of the heat off of Yoongi. "He tried to call it off, but I kept pushing it. The reason we got back together during school was my fault, not his."

Yoongi's eyes met mine from the chair next to me, his gaze seeming to hold the words that silently spoke that's not true, and I instantly knew what he was thinking. In actuality, he had been the one to give me after-school tutoring on that Saturday during the homecoming football game, not I. He had been the one to kiss me first that day. But there was no way in hell I would ever tell that to the dean.

"I don't care whose fault it is; all that matters is that it happened," Dr. Kim frowned. "And it's still happening if I'm not mistaken, correct?"

"I... um," my eyes flickered to Yoongi, every fiber of my being starting to fill with panic. Shit, we should've discussed this beforehand. I wasn't going to willingly rat Yoongi out, no matter how many times he's said he didn't care anymore if people knew about us.

Suddenly I felt the warm, soft sensation of skin wrapping around the curvature of my hand that was resting atop the wooden armrest. "Yes, it's still happening," Yoongi spoke, and then his fingers were intertwining with mine.

I practically choked on my own spit at his words; did this boy have a death wish? A cough came sputtering out of my lungs, the sound causing everyone in the room to look at me until I'd settled down. Even Professor Lee leaned forward from her seat on the other side of Yoongi, bewilderment written all over her expression as she gave me a look of disgust.

"Well there's your proof right there." She threw her hands up in defeat before gesturing to the two of us. "What more do you need? Expel them, Dr. Kim."

"B–but that's not it!" I suddenly exclaimed and lurched forward, feeling the heat of everyone's stare on our embraced hands, which in turn only made me grip him even harder for support. "Dr. Kim, you have to believe me when I tell you that Professor Lee has worked hard to make my life a living hell ever since I got to this school. She had a vendetta against me; she's in love with Yoongi, and so she–"

"That's not true!" Professor Lee screeched.

"She worked to turn people against us rather than coming to you because she wanted to blackmail Yoongi into being with her," I ignored her interjection and continued. "She even made a seminar about it—the mandatory seminar that everyone attended today!"

The dean turned his attention towards her. "The seminar about the importance of practicing safe sex?" He questioned in bewilderment.

My eyes practically bulged out of my head at his words; that's what she was telling everyone it was about?

"It was!" She scrambled in defense. "I mean I... I may have brought up Yoongi and Y/N as an example, but that's only because they fit the part! Y/N had a pregnancy scare not too long ago, and I didn't want the same thing to happen to our students!"

I felt the color draining from my face, blanching it a stone cold white and decimating any feeling I had left in my body.

How the fuck did she know about the pregnancy?

My head instantly whipped towards Yoongi to see if he had any logical explanation for this, and his face was as poised and stoic as ever in front of his two colleagues—but I could see through it. I knew him well enough to catch onto the slightest falter in his blinking, the increase in heat that collected between our palms, the small twitch of his mouth that would've gone unnoticed by anyone else who observed him. I knew there was no way he could've told Professor Lee about the pregnancy, because he was just as blindsided as I was.

Dr. Kim simply raised his eyebrows in interest before turning back to Yoongi and me.

"Dr. Kim," Yoongi spoke, his voice dripping with amusement, "I mean no disrespect, but do you honestly think that if Y/N had a pregnancy scare, we would tell Sara about it? Come on; not after all she did to us."

"They—they didn't tell me!" Professor Lee huffed out a desperate breath. "I overheard them while I was–"

"While you were what?" I interrupted with a raise of my eyebrow. "While you were spying on us to find any blackmail you could use on Yoongi?"

"N–no!" She stuttered, though at this point it was obvious that she was making up lies on the spot. "While I was walking past the classroom!"

"Why would we be talking about that with the door open?!"

"Enough!" Dr. Kim barked, his deep voice rumbling throughout the small office. We all grew silent as we turned our attention to him. "There will be no arguing of he said/she said in my office," he scolded, then turned his attention to Yoongi before speaking. "I understand that there was someone you wanted me to see?"

Yoongi, who had remained calm during all of this, simply nodded his head before releasing my hand. "Yes, sir," he said as he stood up and walked towards the door.

My eyebrows were knitted in confusion as I watched it all transpire: the words exchanged between the two men, Yoongi rising out of his seat, the sight of my biology professor being revealed behind the closed door. The whole thing came as a surprise to me, and my emotions seemed to be having a war between the shock and relief that I felt raging like a storm in the pit of my stomach.

Why didn't Yoongi tell me about Professor Park being involved in this discussion? When did he have time to ask her to come? Did it even matter at this point?

"Professor Park," Dr. Kim widened his eyes, his frame physically reclining back in his seat. "I'm surprised to see you here."

"As am I to be here," she smiled though her voice was venomous, eyes flashing to a very alarmed Professor Lee.

"Mia?!" The woman barked in disbelief at her friend's entrance. "What are you doing here?"

"Something I should've done a long time ago," Professor Park replied, and with that she turned towards the dean and opened her mouth to speak.

"I'm here to testify on the behalf of Min Yoongi and Y/N."

Earth-shattering elation rippled through me from the inside out, starting at the base of my toes and spiraling to the top of my head and the tips of my fingers, causing them to tingle and buzz with a newfound sense of hope. We might actually have a chance!

"What?!" Professor Lee's voice ripped through the air in a deafening screech. "This isn't a court case! You don't get to play witness!"

"Actually, if Professor Park has witnessed anything, I would definitely like to know," Dr. Kim chimed in, raising an eyebrow towards my biology professor.

Professor Park nodded her head towards him in appreciation before speaking. "A few months ago Sara approached me in my classroom to tell me about the nasty rumors that were surrounding her and a student. She singled the student out, saying to purposely damage their grades because they were treating her unfairly and disrespecting her rules and authority as a professor; she even went so far as to say that they were sending her death threats"

"What?!" The word ripped from my throat faster than I could blink as I stared jaw-dropped at the women in the room.

"That's not true!" Professor Lee instantly protested as expected. "Sir, I can assure you that I never–"

"I have the text messages if you want," Professor Park offered in a tone so nonchalant one would've thought she was conversing about the weather.

Dr. Kim raised an eyebrow. "Text messages? I thought you said she came by your class?"

"She did, sir." Mia interlaced her fingers in front of her and bowed her head politely. "We spoke about it on multiple occasions. I asked why she wouldn't just go to you, or even the authorities if the student was making death threats, but Sara was adamant. She didn't want any scandals revolving around her so that she could maintain the level of professionalism that she had developed here."

I heard a snort coming from next to me, and it was with a swollen heart of pride that I realized the sound came from Yoongi trying to hold in a laugh.

Professionalism? Her? I had never heard anything so far fetched in my life.

Sara simply glared as Mia ignored him and continued. "She assured me that the best way to deal with this pesky student was to slowly start to fail them, and I'll admit, I was angry for her. Sara was my friend, and I respected her enough to believe what she was telling me and follow her requests." She turned her head to where I sat on the other side of Yoongi. "That student was you, Y/N. And I just wanted to say that I am so sorry for the way I handled things. You were treated unfairly and poorly due to false information."

"It wasn't false!" Professor Lee jumped in to defend herself, but everyone was pretty much ignoring her. Even the dean could tell she was playing the part of the boy who cried wolf at this point.

"I'd like to see those text messages, if you don't mind." Dr. Kim reached his hand out expectantly.

There was a brief moment of silence while Professor Park nodded and tapped away on her phone before handing it to him. His cold and calculated eyes scanned the screen while saying nothing, all three of us waiting with bated breath for him to come to a decision in his mind.

There was no where left for her to run. With these text messages, all the constant denying that Professor Lee has done will be proven false and she will be exposed for all the hell she's put me through this semester. My heart was practically bursting at the thought.

"Well I would've appreciated it if you ladies had come to me with this information instead of handling it amongst yourselves, true or not," Dr. Kim finally sighed before giving Sara his full attention. "Ms. Lee, you have three people accusing you. Even if you didn't do it, there's obviously something that's turning them against you. And here at this university we strive to hold cooperation and communication above all else. If you don't get along with the fellow staff here, then why should I believe that they're the problem and not you?"

"Um, because Min Yoongi is fucking his student?!" Professor Lee was fuming now, her upper body lurching forward in her seat and her hands gripping the arm rests for dear life. "He literally just admitted to it!"

"Language, Ms. Lee," Dr. Kim scolded calmly. "I still like to maintain a professional attitude here in my office."

"I apologize sir, but that's beside the point." She was sitting back in her seat now, though her tone was no less frantic. "Min Yoongi is in a relationship with his student, and staff cooperation or not, I don't really think that's in the teacher handbook." She raised a snarky eyebrow at us as if believing that she had finally won.

I knitted my eyebrows, my palms feeling slick with a nervous sweat against Yoongi's as I realized the bigger problem here. It wasn't whatever lies and schemes Professor Lee had cooked up with my biology teacher; it wasn't even Professor Lee herself. It was the fact that Yoongi and I were in a relationship, and that was going to have enough consequences alone to shake me to my very core with fear.

"She's right," Dr. Kim uttered the words that I was silently hoping he wouldn't say, my grip tightening on Yoongi as I anticipated whatever outcome he's decided. Our fate was in his hands.

"Of course I am." Professor Lee crossed her arms and sat back in her seat with a smug grin.

"I'm afraid I have no choice." He was shaking his head, frowning at us apologetically though the sentiment didn't reach his eyes. "Mr. Min, I am sorry to inform you that you will have to be forced to resign from our university."

The color instantly drained from my face, and with it pulling all five senses that I have into the depths of the earth until I couldn't see, couldn't hear, couldn't speak—I could barely even breathe. There was a lump that was forming in my throat and settling deep within my gut, all of this feeling fake, too fake to be real.

Yoongi was fired, and it was all because of me.

"I understand, sir."

It was Yoongi's words that were pulling me from my fog of disbelief and devastation, my eyes blinking in an effort to snap back to reality as I looked from him to the dean. "No. No, there has to be something we can do, please!" I begged, my voice starting to get frantic the more the severity of the situation hit me. "I–I'll drop out! You don't have to worry about me ever coming near here again, just please, please don't fire him!"

"Y/N..." Yoongi's voice was quiet and full of resignation, defeat, but I wasn't giving up.

"Yoongi is an amazing professor who has worked here for, what, two years? He's extraordinary at what he does and students love him. It's not easy to find a professor like that everyday." I was staring into the eyes of the dean now, trying to move him with my words. "You shouldn't throw away someone as great as him just because of some stupid 18 year old's mistake! Please, Dr Kim." I leaned forward in my seat, the room silent as I spoke. "He wouldn't be in this situation if it weren't for me. Please, let me suffer the consequences, not him."

I continued to stare in Dr. Kim's eyes, silently channeling my emotions through the pleading expression in my eyes, and it wasn't until I felt a comforting hand on my back that I was instantly drawn away into a more calm state in my chair. I gazed over at the owner of the hand, and he flashed back that smile I loved except it was sad, and it didn't reach his eyes, and I could tell there was so much he wanted to say to me right now if we weren't in the confinement of his boss' office.

"I understand your efforts, Y/N, but there's nothing I can do." Dr. Kim shook his head, and it was as if the world around me was shattering into blades of glass, scraping at my skin and leaving bloody wounds that I knew would never heal. "Mr. Min was involved in this relationship as well, and no matter whose fault it is, the professor needs to be held accountable. There is a level of professionalism and maturity that he must possess in order to work here; he's your superior, a respectable authority figure, and so he should've known better."

It was all I could do to keep from crying as I lowered my eyes and shook my head, every inch of my heart breaking for Yoongi until all that was left were tiny fragments to scatter in the wind. I couldn't believe I'd done this to him. The very thing he'd been worried about from the start—I had ruined his career.

"It is our goal as a university to see our students succeed," he continued, though I could barely hear a thing. "As for you, Y/N, I see no reason as to why you shouldn't keep attending this university."

I blinked a few times, confused. "You want me to... what?"

"You will have a suspension on your student records, mind you, and one more of those will lead to expulsion," he explained. "Though that doesn't mean that you can't keep going to school here. You will have to meet with an advisor every two weeks, though, who will be keeping a close watch on your behavior."

I could barely even believe my ears; had my hearing been completely lost due to the shock of the situation? "That's totally a double standard!" I gestured to Yoongi in disbelief.

"Y/N, it's okay..." Yoongi tried to calm me down.

"No, it's not okay!" I roared, eyes wide and brows furrowed in disbelief as I glanced at him before turning back to the dean. "Where do you think you can get off by treating people like this? This is his career—his life!"

"That will be enough from you, Ms. Y/N," Dr. Kim bellowed in a stern voice as he frowned. "I'm doing you a favor here by letting you continue your education. Speak out against me one more time and I will be revoking that offer."

His words were deafening throughout the office; it was suddenly understandable why he was so feared by those who worked under him. Yoongi started to run his hand along my spine in a soothing manner, and though it helped relax my fiery nerves and clear my foggy mind, I was still just as upset—if not more, now that the information was beginning to settle in.

"So that's it then?" Professor Lee spoke for the first time in a while, her lips pressed into a firm line, obviously disappointed by the turn of events though she didn't dare to speak out against Dr. Kim as he had warned. "Yoongi gets fired and Y/N gets a free ride?"

"Not so fast, Ms. Lee." The dean turned to her. "What you did was beyond unprofessional. You violated several school policies as well as bullied a student! Do you think that type of behavior is acceptable as a professor?"

Professor Lee opened her mouth as if to protest before slowly shutting it again, realizing that she had nothing left that she hadn't already denied. It was obvious that the evidence given to him by Professor Park, who stood silent in the corner of the room, was incriminating enough to sway his decision.

"I'm sorry to have to inform you that you will be fired as well."

"What?!" Her shrill voice screeched through the air, tearing whatever I had left of my eardrums and rendering me deaf here in this office. "What I did was no where near as bad as Yoongi and Y/N!"

"If anything, it was worse." Dr. Kim folded his hands over his desk. "Let's not forget that you managed to involve the entire student body in a false seminar that maliciously exposed one of our students and professors," he raised an eyebrow at her, "and that was just today."

"Yeah, not to mention all the other shit you did behind my back to make my life a living hell," I couldn't help from interjecting in a heated tone, though I backed off upon seeing the dean's stern gaze.

He redirected his attention back to Sara. "Here at this university, we strive to have a professional relationship, safe environment, and healthy lifestyle for our students. Neither of you achieved those three goals, so both of you will have to be let go."

Yoongi's expression simply remained placid and free of any emotion while Professor Lee's reaction was practically visceral, though neither spoke a word as heavy silence fell over the small office.

"Am I... am I still needed, sir?" It was Professor Park whose voice broke through the tension, everyone having forgotten she was there in the midst of the emotion-filled chaos. "Because if not, then I'm going to go."

"No, I'm just about finished here." Dr. Kim let out a sigh, as if what just transpired had been hard on him out of all people in the room. My blood boiled just looking at him, though I know I had to learn when to speak out and when to bite my tongue as Yoongi had taught me.

"Dr. Kim, is there any way you can reconsi–"

"That will be enough from you, Ms. Lee," his booming voice interrupted the frantic professor. "I've said all that I need to say on the matter. I'm not changing my mind."

"Dr. Kim?" I spoke up just as Professor Lee and Professor Park were getting ready to walk out the door. "I–I have something else to tell you. Un-related to this," I threw in when I saw him throw a glance in Lee's direction.

The man sighed before waving them out, leaving his office empty of visitors other than me and Yoongi in the chairs. I wasn't going to let that boy go anywhere.

"Y/N, I'm sorry that the outcome isn't exactly what you wanted but I'm afraid there's nothing I can–"

"Choi Junwoo tried to rape me," I blurted out.

There was a moment's pause as the dean was stunned silent with wide eyes, and out of my peripheral vision I could see Yoongi tense up and inhale sharply next to me.

"W–what–"

"Choi Junwoo," I spoke slowly for him so that he'd understand, "a student here at this university, tried to rape me at a frat party."

I couldn't leave the office without saying it. I couldn't leave the office without telling him. This wasn't just about me or the turmoil or trauma he caused; this was for every other girl in the future who might be a victim of Jun. Though in my heart I truthfully believed he was a good person, and that he really was just intoxicated beyond belief that night, it was still no excuse. If he had rape-tendencies while he was drunk and I didn't speak out about it, then I would be no better when it came to helping other sexual assault victims.

"Are you sure–"

"I found them at the party while he was mid-act," Yoongi jumped in, probably figuring he was already fired so there was nothing left for him to lose when it came to revealing details about our relationship outside of school. "It was... disgusting. I got her out of there immediately, but not before punching that bastard in the face."

"Metaphorically, of course!" I couldn't help but chime in, not wanting an assault charge to be on his record as well.

Thankfully Dr. Kim simply brushed off that minuet detail in favor for the more important issue at hand. "Y/N, what you're telling me will ruin this student's future. Are you absolutely sure you want to file this?"

Despite the anger that swelled up inside of me from him questioning my accusation, I still couldn't help the little trickle of doubt that crept in as I considered his words. At one point, Jun had been a friend... maybe even a potential lover had Yoongi not been in the picture. Dr. Kim was right, this information could potentially ruin his reputation, his education, his record... was I ready to carry the weight of knowledge that I've ruined someone's life forever?

"What are you talking about? Of course!" Yoongi spat an answer before I even had a chance to finish my thoughts. "She told you what happened, didn't she? Why would she speak out about something like this if she was making it up?"

"Maybe a personal vendetta?" The dean shrugged his shoulders. "People will do crazy things for revenge."

Now that got me heated. "The only one who wanted revenge here was Junwoo!" I stood up from my seat to yell. "He liked me and was mad that I turned him down. As if I owed my feelings to him or something! And when I told him no, he forced himself on me?! Is that really the type of message you want to send at this college? You know, since you're so high and mighty on "cooperation"," I did air quotes of sarcasm around my last words, my ears practically steaming with boiling rage.

"We will come out about this story, by the way," Yoongi added in, his voice full of venom. "And how will that look if you tried to keep us silent?"

"You can forget about me attending this university," I hissed.

"Alright, alright, settle down, the both of you," Dr. Kim lowered his hands in a calming manner. "I was not suggesting I buy your silence or anything of that nature. I was simply making sure you wanted to go through with this."

"Yes," Yoongi and I both answered in unison.

The dean nodded his head before clasping his hands together. "Alright."

The rest of the time in the office with spent filling on paperwork on a claim against Junwoo. I'd been given the option to be kept in the loop or even present when everything went down, though I politely declined. I wanted nothing more to do with that boy.

Though it would seem Professor Lee didn't share the same sentiment when it came to me, because as soon as soon as the two of us walked hand in hand into the hallway and Dr. Kim's door was securely shut, she sprung into action.

"You bitch!" She shrieked, not wasting another second as she leaped through the air and onto my body like a crouched tiger that was waiting for the right moment to attack. I felt the pressure of her weight against my chest and the sting of her nails scraping against my cheek, and before I knew it I was stumbling down, down onto the ground with another vicious blow to my jaw that was accompanied by her fist.

It all happened within a matter of seconds, but it wasn't long until I heard Yoongi yell Sara! and then her weight vanished just as quickly as it had appeared.

All I could do was stare with wide eyes as Yoongi slammed her shoulders back against the wall, though it was the look in his eyes that caught my attention. I had seen that expression before.

He was about to throw a punch.

"Yoongi, stop!" I cried, summoning all the strength I possessed to push myself to my feet and stumble over to the pair.

Yoongi whipped his head towards me with exasperated, almost wild eyes and his brows knitted in confusion and disbelief. "Y/N, she attacked you!"

"She isn't worth it," I spoke firmly in an attempt to get through to him. "Yoongi, just let it go. She isn't worth the trouble anymore."

It was when I placed a soothing hand against his back that Yoongi finally sighed, his stance visibly relaxing and his hands dropping from Professor Lee's shoulders. "She's right," he spit in a low, venomous tone as he turned back to her and grit his teeth. "Thanks to Dr. Kim, you already got what you deserve."

"Yoongi," there were sudden sobs that were tearing through the hallway, and it took me a moment to realize that Professor Lee was now... crying.

"Yoongi," she continued as she clung onto his shoulders. "Yoongi, I loved you!"

Somewhere deep inside of me, past all the burning hatred for what this woman has done to my life out of pure jealousy, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of sympathy for her. This was once me, heartbroken over the effects of unrequited love. Yoongi was a very sought-after man, I'd come to realize, and it wasn't about my feelings or Professor Lee's or anyone else's. It was about his.

"Sara," Yoongi sighed, and there was almost a wince in his tone from how hard he was trying to make her understand. "It's over."

"W–what?" The woman was scrambling now. "It doesn't have to be! We can go back to the way things were–"

"There never was a ‘we’!" He ripped her hands from his shoulders. "We were friends, and then you sabotaged my career and Y/N's education. You never once spoke out about your feelings, came forward, handled things like adults," he stressed the last line. "You never once did any of those things! Instead you belittled another woman and cost yourself your job all for a man—someone who until now, was your friend." Yoongi sighed again and shook his head. "I hope you get the help you need, Sara. I'm sure there is someone out there who will love you unconditionally... but that person is not me."

And with that, he put a gentle hand on my back and we walked away.

“Oh my god.”

Those were the first words out of my mouth the second we exited the building, my hands resting on my head in disbelief as I turned to Yoongi. “Holy shit, Yoongi–“

“Shhh,” he instantly consoled me, his arms engulfing me in a comforting hug and my face tucking underneath his chin as he held me close. “We did it, Y/N. It’s all over.”

I stayed in his embrace for a few moments as his words sunk in. It was all over. No more secrets, no more Professor Lee—no more anything.

“B–but your job...” I pulled away to look up at him with a shaky tone, my brows furrowed in concern. “Dr. Kim fired you, he–“

“I resigned, Y/N. There’s a difference.”

“Is there?” I couldn’t help but look up at him with a hopeless expression.

Yoongi simply nodded his head, the picture of nonchalance as if his career hadn’t just changed forever. “Yes. If I had gotten fired, it would look terrible on my resumé should I apply for another teaching position. However, given the circumstances of our arrangement...” he paused, no doubt thinking of Professor Lee, “I suppose he decided to take it easy on us all.”

My shoulders deflated in relief. “Well thank god for that...” I sighed, not even wanting to think of what could’ve happened if Dr. Kim had given us the harshest punishment. In an ironic, twisted way, I suppose I have Professor Lee to thank for that. If she wouldn’t have made my life a living hell, it would’ve been that much worse if Dr. Kim ever found out on his own.

“But none of that even matters to me right now,” Yoongi suddenly snapped, and then in the time it took me to raise an questioning eyebrow he had already grabbed both sides of my face and rammed his lips into mine, the same as he did before we went inside to confront Professor Lee.

Only this time, the kiss was different. It didn’t hold promises and potential; it held freedom. It held the success of finally getting through everything by the skin of our teeth, the relief and the pride and the pure love that we have for each other after overcoming everything that we’ve been through together. I kissed him and I didn’t care who saw—because he wasn’t my professor anymore. There were no invisible chains that bounded us apart. It was just me and him sticking together against all odds. Never in my life did I think I would ever be a part of a relationship so committed, so passionate, so determined. He and I would never stop fighting for each other.

“I love you, Min Yoongi,” I murmured against his mouth with a grin on my features that was hard to disguise—especially when I felt the corners of his lips pull up into that gummy smile that I adored with all of my heart.

“God, I love you too, Y/N,” he replied back with a content sigh, and then he continued to kiss me on the busy campus sidewalk until we were both breathless and blue in the face.

Because we now had nothing to lose.

Despite finally being released from the clutches that school had on us, the days following the meeting with Dr. Kim were not easy.

Other than having to put on a fake smile and continue attending a university where practically everyone knew about my relationship with now-former Professor Min (my mother would never let me drop out—not that I could ever tell her the reason I'd want to, anyways), there were the stresses that Yoongi was dealing with of now being unemployed. And what with all but abandoning my dorm room to instead spend my nights with him at his apartment, it was impossible to not feel the weight of his problems on my shoulders as well. No matter how many times Yoongi tried to put up a façade and reassure me that he was okay, I couldn't help but feel like this was my fault.

"If I just never would've made you dance with me at that club..." I'd say at times, unable to keep from tracing back each and every one of our interactions and blaming myself.

"Cut that out," Yoongi would snap.

"What? It's true!"

"You know I don't like it when you talk like that!" He'd turn to me with a stern tone. "I don't regret anything that happened between us, okay? Not one single bit." There was a heavy silence as his words would hang in the air. "If you wouldn't have asked me to dance, then who knows if I ever would've worked up the courage to kiss you? And I wouldn't be here, sharing this bed with the love of my life."

"Aw, Yoongi..."

And the two of us would make love, again and again until we'd have a similar argument some time later and repeat the whole process all over again. I'd feel guilty, Yoongi would remind me of exactly how much he doesn't regret meeting me, and we'd get lost in each other's embrace.

That is, until a simple Sunday morning suddenly changed everything.

"I got it."

I casually peered over at the sound of him from my spot in the living room, sitting criss crossed on the couch in my pajamas with a laptop in my lap. "What?"

"The job." Yoongi's voice was low, serious as he stared at the paper in his hands that had previously been so carelessly disregarded on the kitchen island along with the Sunday paper. "At the university in Seoul."

"Wait." He had all of my attention now as I sat the laptop on the coffee table and rose to my feet. "Like the Seoul National University university?"

"Yeah," he let out a single chuckle of disbelief before he pressed the paper against the counter and turned to me. "I got the job."

"Oh my god, Yoongi!" I exclaimed with my own chuckle of disbelief before running forward and wrapping my arms around his neck. His arms immediately engulfed my waist and lifted me off the ground as we spun around in place, my lips instantly finding his in a searing kiss that was full of passion and excitement to match our current mood. "That's amazing!"

"I know," he replied as he placed me down. A tentative smile was frozen on his lips as he stared off into the distance before letting out another sound of disbelief, his head shaking before his palm slid down his face. "I can't believe it!"

"I'm so proud of you!" I mirrored the grin of pure elation on his features, my chest swelling with joy and relief and most of all, pride.

I was so, so proud of Yoongi. I knew how much his job meant to him, and the feeling of guilt that weighed down on me from knowing that I was the one who inadvertently took that away from him, that I was the one who inadvertently caused all this stress of job hunting was instantly lifted off my shoulders. I knew how much he wanted this. I knew how hard he had worked to get this job at such a prestigious school, and god damn it, I knew how much he deserved it. If Yoongi was anything, apart from being an amazing person and a wonderful lover, he was great at his job. He was a natural born teacher.

Though no matter how many times I've willingly showered him with endless compliments about his work, he'd blush sheepishly and simply swat away all of my words with a simple kiss, or an "if you don't shut up your food is going to get cold. We're unemployed now; we need all the nutrition we can get. Haven't you ever heard of the Great Depression?"

So instead, I just chose to beam at him while he basked in the euphoria of the moment that this job acceptance brought on. After all, I knew he was well aware of how proud of him I was and how supportive I'd always be when it came to anything he wanted to accomplish.

Though the bliss was short lived.

I watched as Yoongi's expression slowly fell, the smile on his face slipping into a deep frown and his eyes turning to stone. "No."

"What?" I furrowed my brows, concern filling me and etching onto my features as I cupped his cheek in my hand, trying to figure out why his mood had changed so suddenly. "What's wrong?"

"I'm not taking it." His tone was cold, definitive, as if the subject wasn't even up for debate as he grabbed the letter.

"Wait wait wait," I hurried to stop him from tearing it in half. "What are you talking about? Why not?"

He turned to look at me with cold, incredulous eyes, as if he couldn't believe I was even asking a question so stupid. "The university is in Seoul, Y/N."

"Okay...?" I shook my head in confusion, still not understanding what the issue was. "And?"

"I'd have to move." He was taking the paper back out of my hands and ripping it right down the middle before I got the chance to stop him.

I suddenly deflated, the severity of his words dropping in my stomach and wrapping around the anchor of my heart, sending it down, down, down through the floor of his apartment and hurdling towards the center of the earth.

"...What?"

"I'd have to move away from you."

And there is was, the bomb detonating an explosion and demolishing whatever was left of my heart.

"No... t–there has to be another way, there has to–"

"Seoul is hours away from here, Y/N," Yoongi barked out, his tone angry and harsh as it always was when he was upset. "It's on the other side of the country; there's no way I'd be able to commute without living there."

"Okay, so why did you apply then?" I couldn't help but snap back defensively. "You knew the distance to Seoul prior to applying for the job. Why even bother if you're just going to get pissed about not taking it?!"

"Because I didn't think I'd get accepted!" His voice was loud, almost yelling now. "It's the most sought after, prestigious school in the fucking country and I didn't think some young idiot who got fired from his last job would be able to get in!"

It was silent as his words settled over the atmosphere, clinging to the air that filled the room around us and encasing my lungs until it was impossible to breathe.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" I finally hissed. "You're a great teacher, and you know it. If anyone's a young idiot here, it's me!"

Yoongi scoffed with a shake of his head. "I'm the one who kissed you again during that tutoring session after telling you to stay away. I'm the one who fucked you against that desk." His tone was low now, and his eyes seemed to grow harder in realization with each step that he took towards me. "I'm the one who asked to take you out on that fucking date and I'm the one who pulled you onto my lap when Sara caught us in my classroom! God damn it, I'm the one who tracked you down at a fucking frat party and punched one of my students!"

His voice slowly raised until he was yelling again, and if it weren’t for the fact that he was now standing chest to chest and cornering me up against the countertop of the island, I would've winced at the loud volume so close to my ears.

"Stop blaming yourself, Y/N, when I'm the one who was the authority figure. I'm the one who should've had my shit together, but I just couldn't around you!"

I felt myself soften at that. As angry and intimidating as he seemed right now, surely frightening whoever would come into contact with him when he was like this, I knew that it was all a front. Yoongi wasn't the best at dealing with emotional situations—he'd all but bite my head off any time I even tried to mention his father—and sometimes lashed out in anger when he was upset or hurting inside. I knew how badly he wanted this job; I could see it in his eyes, hear it in his voice when he'd first submitted the application. And now, when the career position of his dreams was finally right under his nose, he couldn't have it. Because I was holding him back.

"You have to take it." My voice was solemn and steady as I stared him in the eyes.

He instantly frowned. "What? No, I–"

"Yoongi."

He fell silent, all signs of anger and malice wiped from his features once he saw just how serious I was being. A soft, bittersweet smile that had nothing to do with happiness slowly tugged at my lips as my eyes gleamed with pain. My heart was breaking with every word I was speaking, but I knew it was something I needed to do.

"You have to take the job."

The silence that ensued my words only further proved my point, simultaneously stabbing a knife into my chest with each passing second. He knew I was right. He knew it. He just didn't want to hear it.

"You don't..." He sounded smaller, more pitiful and confused as he tried to make sense of what I was saying. "You don't want me to stay?"

The hurt, the sadness, the utter hopelessness in his voice absolutely crushed me. I couldn't help but fall into his embrace, wrapping my arms around his chest and squeezing tightly as if I could somehow hold the pieces of him together that I knew were breaking. The severity of what was happening, of what I was doing started to settle within me the moment I heard his voice break.

"I do, baby," I replied, the sound muffled by the skin of his neck that my face was buried in as a sob threatened to claw its way out of my throat and swallow me whole. "God, you know I do. But you can't."

"Y–you can come with me." He was shaking his head now, his hands gripping at the shirt on my back with closed fists while he desperately tried to hold onto me, as if I would disappear beneath him at any moment. "We can move together to Seoul and you can–"

"You know I can't, Yoongi." It was my turn to shake my head, and with it came a heavy tear that fell down my cheek. "I have to go to school. I have a family who's helping pay for my tuition, and my mom— you know it's not all up to me."

I heard him sniffle as he pulled away, and even though I felt no evidence of tears from him against my skin or my shirt, his eyes were bright red when he stared back at me.

"I'm not leaving you, Y/N."

The sheer determination in his voice had me shattering like broken glass. "I'm not letting you do this, Yoongi. I'm not letting you waste this opportunity. Do you know how many people are waiting to work at Seoul University? How many professors would kill to be in your position?" I kept my gaze steadily on his as I slowly shook my head. "I care about you... so fucking much. I've never loved someone so much before... not like this." I paused, asking myself one last time if this was really the decision I wanted to make as my words settled in. I took in the sight of his beautiful, breathtaking features silently begging me not to do this. "I'm putting you above my selfishness," I finally decided with another shake of my head. "You need to do this Yoongi, for you. You know you do."

Yoongi slowly shook his head, though the expression on his face told me he knew I was right. "I don't want to lose you," he spoke as a tear spilled over the brim of his eye, dampening his lashes and leaving a wet streak in its wake as it rolled down his cheek, and the sight was the final breaking point that had me bursting into tears.

"Neither do I."

His fingers dug into my skin as he tightened his grip on my body, his forehead leaning against mine as the only sounds exchanged between the two of us were the unspoken words of labored breaths and soft sobs.

Sometimes when you love someone, you have to do what's best for them.

And I knew this was what's best for Yoongi.