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istudythestars · 9 months

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tips for stem majors in math and science courses (spoonie + neurodivergent friendly)

hi y’all! my nameis lila and i’m a 28 year old physics and anthropology major who’s about 2 years through college (in the US)! as we’re coming up on the start of the fall ‘23 college semester, i thought i might share some really solid hacks for fellow STEM students taking science and/or math courses that i’ve basically built my college academic career on. and! these study tips are spoonie and adhd friendly! as a matter of fact, a lot of these are tips/methods that specifically work for me as a neurodivergent spoonie (i have pretty severe adhd, as well as POTS and ME/CFS), but that i think non-disabled/non-spoonie and/or neurotypical students could also benefit from using! so with out any further ado, here are my 7 tried and true study hacks for college math and science classes…

1) discover your learning style and tailor your studying towards leveraging it.

you’ve probably heard of visual, audio, and kinesthetic learning styles, but did you now there’s actually way more learning styles than just those three? i’m personally a “social learner,” meaning i learn best through discussion and socialization with 1+ other people to interact with. this could look like teaching other classmates concepts and methods that we’ve learned or discussing ideas with classmates and/or professors until i fully understand the concepts at play and how they connect and can reflect them in performing analysis and application, etc. honestly, figuring out my learning style was hands down one of the most helpful things i’ve done in college. it has allowed me to choose professors who i will mesh better with in terms of how they teach, as well as to adapt materials and methods to my style of learning in order to master them quicker and more effectively.

2) rewrite your notes after lecture, for the love of god.

this tip actually comes from my high school IB Math HL teacher, who told me to do this when i originally left high school for college. even if you think you’ve mastered the basics of the topic covered during the lecture, rewriting those notes after lecture helps really hammer in the knowledge that you’ve already established and also helps to get the wheels turning on pieces of information you might have less of a grasp on. try tp set aside at least 30 - 40 minutes after class to just rewrite your notes and try to really digest the information.

3) body doubling is one of the most beneficial things ever to be invented even if you’re not adhd, and i WILL die on that hill, thank you very much.

“body doubling” or “having an accountabilibuddy” are interchangeable terms in the adhd community that mean you have one or more consistent study buddy/buddies who you do all the homework and/or studying with in person on a regular basis, even if you’re just working next to each other in total silence. this does a couple of things. first off, it forces homework/assignments/studying to become a concrete social obligation you need to regularly show up for, rather than a nebulous obligation based on an invisible deadline. second off, it gives you 1+ partners to work out your problems concerning course topics with. third off, it allows you to build a network of peers where you feel comfortable helping each other with course material (this is especially great because it’s likely you and your classmates have different strengths regarding course content). tbh, body doubling is the other method that i, personally, have found most useful in college and i highly recommend trying it, even if you don’t have adhd.

4) teach others/your classmates the analysis and application methods you’ve learned, even if those methods aren’t 100% solidified for you (trust me on this).

the goal of stem courses is never memorization, but rather being able to understand a topic well enough to analyze a similar situation and apply the what you’ve learned creatively. this is where teaching others comes in. in order to teach others a concept and its related analysis and application well, you have to have at least a fraction of a decent understanding of these things yourself, and, further, often time in teaching these things you also learn to grasp the concepts/aanalysis/applications even better than you did before with each new teaching session. basically: teaching others is a creative way of also teaching yourself. you get the benefits of repetition, of thinking about a concept/technique/analysis and application in a new way, and of getting to apply the concept/technique/analysis and applicatioin to a new scenario each time. plus, you’ll typically make friends quickly in the process! there’s really no downside to this tip imo ;-)

5) utilize your college’s tutoring center/program(s), even when you don’t think you need to.

usually colleges have either set up a general “tutoring center,” on campus where you can find tutors for all different kinds of topics and courses available during regular hours for walk-in sessions and/or appointments free of charge or departments will hold regular weekly (or twice weekly) free on-campus tutoring sessions for specific courses. regardless of which of these options your college has, i highly recommend attending at least one tutoring session/appointment (ideally with the same tutor if/when you eventually find one you click with) every single week, even when you don’t feel like you’re struggling with the topic(s) covered in that week’s lecture. this will help you review topics and techniques covered in lecture, deepen your understanding of them, and, if nothing else, it’s an excuse to get homework out of the way while having someone else there who can help you if/when you get stuck. attending at least one session weekly also helps you get into a habit and routine of keeping up with your assignments, so you’re not left scrambling at the last minute before they’re due.

6) if you have accommodations, request access to record lectures. if you do not have accommodations, ask your professor if you are allowed to record lectures. IF YOU RECORD LECTURES, DO NOT FORGET TO REVIEW THEM!

okay, so first up for my fellow spoonies and neurodivergent peeps: when you apply for/renew your accommodations, make sure that “recordinng lectures” is on your MOA (memorandum of accommodations), because so long as it is, your professors legally cannot deny you permission to record lectures without risk of themself and the college being sued for an ADA violation. also, make friends with a classmate and ask them to record lectures and send them to you if/when you are absent (let the professor know that you’ve asked this classmate to record and send you the lecture if you are absent)

now, if you aren’t disabled, a spoonie, and/or neurodivergent, you aren’t guaranteed permission to record lectures. however. ask the professor if you can have their permission to audio record lectures (be sure to also let them know that such a recording would be for personal use only and that you don’t plan on distributing the recordings). i’ve found that many professors don’t mind you having an audio recording.

even if you aren’t an audible learner it can be really useful to have these recordings to review at a later point. oftentimes reviewing lecture recordings can be useful if you glazed over and missed a section of the lecture and/or if you can’t remember what a professor taught during a section of a lecture.

7) last but not least, on a related note, if you have accommodations, also request access to your professor’s lecture notes. if you don’t have accommodations, check if your professor posts their lecture notes for students to use.

having your professor’s notes can be extremely useful for review purposes, but they can also help you understand where your professor is going with course content and what they want to stress as important.

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faulty-writes · 8 months

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i’m baaaccckkkkkkk lol. could you write something about bakugo having a s/o (preferably f!) that is studying for forensic science (either crime scene photography or anthropology [the study of human bones] please! :D

[ Welcome back! Forensic science sounds awesome, I hope I did your request justice! ]

From the start, Katsuki supported your weird obsession with forensic science. He knew how it felt to be interested in a potential career, given that becoming a hero was once the most meaningful thing to him before he met you. He also understood that forensics could be used in heroics.

As part of some of your assignments, you had to analyze crime scene photos and determine what was right, wrong, or indifferent about them. "Huh? What the hell are you looking at!?" Some of the pictures were rather gruesome and Katsuki was naturally concerned. At the same time, he knew you weren't a frail girl and could handle looking at…the disturbing imagery.

You both showed interest in each other's fields over time. You'd ask Katsuki about his heroics, and what happened at his job that day. He would ask how your studies were coming along and what you had learned that day.

When you began your internship at The Police Force you learned the proper mechanics and principles of photographing a crime scene. After a while, Katsuki insisted on accompanying you. "Come on! It'll be a good bonding exercise damn it!" You weren't sure how true that was but allowed him to join you.

Some nights, when he returned from work, he was too tired to stand. When this happened, he'd sit beside you on the floor and help you review case files or discuss anthropological research.

Although many didn't know this, Katsuki was very creative and thoughtful. He'd always find some way to combine your forensic interest with your dates, at least the stay-at-home ones. This usually meant the two of you would watch a forensic or crime-related movie and discuss the clues and details you noticed throughout the movie that eventually led to the murder.

#katsuki x reader #bakugou x fem!reader #katsuki x fem!reader #katsuki x you #bnha x reader #bnha x you #bnha x y/n #katsuki x y/n #bakugou x y/n #bakugou x you #bakugou x reader #faulty writes: katsuki bakugou: 23 #faulty writes: katsuki bakugou: headcanons: 23

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salmon-sushi-monster · 3 months

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It’s hard to engage in the new PJO show fandom because I have to constantly fight against the urge to talk about just how much this series means to me, like.

I remember the exact moment I started reading the books as a 9 year old. I was in a boarding school and had finished the assignments early. As I was walking back to my seat after handing in my homework I saw a classmate reading Sea of Monsters. I borrowed it from him as I was already interested in Greek Mythology and started reading, and was so confused because it was the second one. The next time I went to a book store I made sure my mom would help me find the first and the third books. And at the time there were only three because even though the PJO series had finished the books were slow to be translated to Chinese, my 1st language.

This series saw so many of my first times. I engaged in online fandom for the first time, by finding an online Sci-Fi & Fantasy forum, to share the news that the Battle of Labyrinth were about to be translated to my language, and people there made fun of me because they had already known for a year. The PJO fandom was where I made my first fandom friend. It’s the fandom that got me into writing fanfics and making art. I started venturing into international websites - sites that are not in Chinese - for discussions and fan content. I became interested in the world out there because of PJO.

When Mark of Athena first came out our side of the fandom was enraged. To me, a closeted queer 12 year old troubled with ADHD and depression in China, Nico di Angelo would be the first ever character that I could see myself in, a gay character that I would actually be able to read about in a published book. A gay character that’s normalized, who was troubled by his identity. Someone who is just like me. And his confession about Percy was censored in the Chinese translation.

I started translating fanfics - and translating content in general - because of this. I didn’t want other Chinese fans to have to wait years for new content like I did; and I didn’t want them to read a filtered, censored version. In high school I would finish a non-official translation of the first Trials of Apollo book. It took me more than a year, but nothing was censored. I hope it is still up there.

I chose my English name - a name that I tie a huge part of my identity to - because of a character in PJO. I started going to my local foreign language library and began to read, read, and read because of PJO. I picked my college major - anthropology - partly because of PJO. Heck, I decided to study abroad in college in the US because I had a crush on a girl who was also into PJO in high school and she was planning on going to the US.

When RR started writing the series I’m sure he did not intend for it to have this big of an impact on a little Chinese girl’s life. But it did, and I’m eternally grateful for that.

#percy jackson #pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo series #how do I tag lol #so confusing #sorry for being emo

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writing-whump · 5 months

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Sick from fear

Seline takes a student home. Matthew isn't happy about it. Intimidation, agression and some emeto ensue.

“Don’t be shy now. It’s okay,” Seline said with a smile.

Caleb hesitated at the doorstep of the apartment, nodding meekly, before he stepped inside and immediately started to take off his shoes.

She was doing writing consultation for the seminar she was assisting with for students as always, but today was special, because she got to talk with the only wolf student one on one. A young wolf, just 18 years old. He seemed like a child to her no matter what the passport said.

Wolves that studied were rare, since most of them couldn’t handle the training to tolerate humans. Even rarer were wolves who studied the softer sciences, for when they already did, they wanted something that would increase their status or their skills for pack matters and business.

Caleb studied cultural anthropology though and she was beside herself with joy. Finally it happened! Their faculty of european ethnology, one of the many names their faculty could be called, was small and cozy and little known. Most people couldn’t imagine anything under the name. Sociology was more famous, the annoying step-sister of the department, but people didn’t understand it any better.

But theirs was like a little secret club just across the big gallery building and the butterfly museum and the big state library. Surrounded by art and thoughts, just like she liked it.

Caleb was insecure in the lessons, a little shy and flinched at loud noises, but he was there, growing into himself.

Normally, she held her consultations at the student space, which was a fancy name for a hall filled with tables for student needs. As the end of the day neared, it filled with project groups and chatting students. At the point when she couldn’t hear Caleb's soft answers anymore, she decided just to invite him over. She finally had a place in Vienna, compared to the 10 years she spent traveling back and forth. Finding a quiet place, where you could just chat with people was a challenge, cause everyone had the same idea, so everything was very full, very busy and too loud.

Caleb held his bag self-consciously in his hands, looking at her for directions.

Seline smiled and waved him in to sit down at the kitchen table. The apartment always looked representative these days, because of Isaiah’s constant and insistent cleaning, which usually prompted her and Matthew to help out as well.

“So. Tell me again about the research question.”

Caleb sat down gingerly, gaze downcast, like he was scared looking around would be some kind of attack on her privacy.

“I’m not entirely sure about the topic yet. The assignment says we should choose something mundane and familiar, something we have close connection to and that won’t be hard to do participative observations on…but there aren’t that many public places…I feel comfortable in?” Caleb only recently moved to the city so she understood the whole experience as a wolf and as a student was very new to him.

“Is there a place you would be interested in? It’s always best to start with what makes you curious. It doesn’t have to be familiar as long as it’s exciting and you feel like you would like to find out more.”

“Uhmm…I actually thought I might ask you…is it allowed to write about your own home?”

Seline threw her hair back, straightening on the chair. “Yes, of course. Ethnography is all about exploring the small, mundane, the seemingly daily and personal. But diving in deep. Autoethnography or something or someone close to you is definitely allowed. Many first years do their first interviews with their parents or friends. There is nothing wrong about it, you have to learn the format and work up your nerve. You just have to be transparent and take consideration of that in your analysis.”

Caleb looked at the table, his eyes flickering to her and back for several long seconds. Seline held still. People didn’t like silence, so they usually tried to fill it and expanded upon what they wanted to say. She liked that technique very much.

“Would I be allowed to write about wolves as well?” Caleb asked finally, shoulders tense, his hands curled up in his lap.

Seline smiled widely. “Of course.”

Caleb lifted his gaze to her, eyes wide. “A-are you sure? Isn’t that…I don’t know…”

Seline took a deep breath. This was an excellent question and she had waited years for someone to ask.

“Shadow wolves are beings just like humans. We share space. We share cities, so we all have a right to the city. We share our lives and our desires and needs that way and need to negotiate our collective space. It’s an entirely legitimate topic for an ethnographer to explore.

Admittedly, there had been very little research done on this field from the perspective of social sciences. Political sciences have really ridden the hype on this since the legislative finally settled on a solution everyone was moderately happy about. But also communication sciences researching social media representation and debates. Film and media studies and literature studies have whole lectures about wolf shadow authors and how they have always been here, their identities more or less hidden in their content. But if you disregard the biology and medicine papers and the ethical questions and controversy regarding them that had been going on for over 20 years - the scientific community has actually done very little direct research with wolves as active consensual participants.

As a wolf yourself, you have to reflect your identity, role and positioning in this field - obviously - but it gives you unique access to spaces that are closed or uncomfortable for most scientists. Especially since most scientists are still very human and wolf packs are very private, structured and distrustful social units with their own rules for correct behavior that are very hard to understand, if you didn’t grow up with them. No one has yet written the rules down.”

“There are guidelines from government institutions and schools,” Caleb countered.

“Yes, but they are for wolves, not from them. There are only unspoken rules. Humans have made space for wolves, but they made them adjust themselves to human norms and rules - partly this is necessary as human safety, integrity and dignity have to be respected. But no one ever thinks about what wolves do, feel and where they are coming from. Why is it hard for them to fit into human communities and groups, why their instincts go against what humans would normally consider right or pleasant.”

“But would anyone be interested in that? Would it be relevant…for someone who doesn’t come into contact with wolves?”

“Even if people didn’t want to interact with wolves - which is unlikely as they are very frequent in cities now and why wouldn’t they want to interact, when they have to come across each other - consider all the humans involved directly with wolves. Like humans born into wolf families.”

“Or witches,” Caleb said quetly, watching her.

“Or witches,” she agreed with a nod. “It isn’t natural for me as a witch why wolves do and feel what they do. I have human instincts and understanding and I’m socialized into my own culture. Behavior for and around wolves had to be taught to me.”

Caleb nodded eagerly. Seline noted how his shoulders relaxed visibly as fascination replaced the discomfort from before.

“There are so many wonderful topics you can explore around wolves. Safety and conflict mediation are so common they are cliche at this point.”

“So I can research whatever I want?”

“Yes. As long as you can find logical arguments and explain the relevance and connection to ethnography.”

“But you just said-”

“There is one,” she said with a grin. “There always is. You just have to learn to situate your personal interests in the wider context of your scientific field. You are an ethnographer-”

“I am?”

“-as long as you act and think of yourself as one. You are my colleague at the faculty now.” She had always loved it when their professors treated them like colleagues and partners in the seminars and discussions, although it was plain they had so much more experience and knowledge than students could gain in the 5 years it took to finish the master's degree. It was incredibly confidence-boosting and remade her own understanding of herself as a researcher.

Caleb redded, but couldn’t quite suppress the hopeful smile as well. He seemed to have become taller during their conversation, just by uncurling. Satisfaction swelled in her chest. She wanted to stay as a professor at the university for moments like these.

“Now, I would like to show you some exercises to help you formulate-”

The entrance door opened and slammed shut, interrupting her.

“Seline? You home? Class ended early and I…” Matthew’s voice faded as he got closer, walking inside the kitchen. “What the hell is this?”

“Oh hey, Matt, I just invited my student over for a consultation. We should be finished in 15-”

Matthew’s bag fell down on the floor with a bang. It had been some time since she had seen that expression on his face. It was somewhere between an angry grimace, pain and a snarl that contorted his features.

Then a loud growl echoed inside the room.

Caleb was on his feet in an instant, backing away to the wall. “I’m s-sorry, I’ll leave, sir,” he said, trembling.

“Matthew, what are you doing?” Seline said in disbelief and irritation. She didn’t understand what caused such a reaction.

Matthew’s shadow rose up, black and swelling, like a giant nightmarish monster behind him.

Caleb whined, crouching against the wall. His own shadow stirred, but it was small and hesitant and completely scared.

“This is my territory. How dare you-” Matthew could barely put a sentence together, his hands shaking as he towered over the younger wolf.

“I’m sorry,” Caleb repeated, shaking all over.

Seline jumped up from the chair, positioning herself between Matthew and Caleb. “What has gotten into you?” She said angrily. “You are scaring my guest.”

“You brought a foreign wolf here?” Matthew said, turning to her. It was very different to have thar angry scowl accompanied by a risen shadow that reached the ceiling directed at her. She felt a shiver run up her spine and her hair standing up on the back of her neck.

“Stop it,” she said quietly. You are scaring me.

Matthew stared at her, eyes shadowed over, reaching for her arm…

Seline had no wards, no shields. All protections in the apartment were made against wolves she didn't know, she didn't like, didn't trust…and she had no way to sing a song or call on water inside the apartment, without preparation and time.

If he hurt her now, she wouldn't be able to do anything. She stood frozen from fear, helplessness flooding her from head to toe.

Caleb made a soft whiny noise behind her and that snapped her out of it.

Seline grabbed Caleb’s hand and without turning and retreated back, going for the door. Caleb barely managed to take his shoes before they were out of the apartment, both breathing hard.

Seline’s heart was hammering in her chest. Once the door stood between them, the cold creeping presence of the shadow wasn’t notable anymore, but the cold dread remained.

They were silent on the elevator, Seline still processing the shock of that feeling. She recognized it from when her younger brother made that move like he wanted to hit her for the first time during an argument. 16 years old boy who she cradled and played with from the day he was born, growing to be taller than her only that year, almost hitting her in the face. His fist stopped centimeters from her nose. She cried herself to sleep that night and started to look for her own place the next.

This felt so close to that horrible moment she felt tears in the corners of her eyes, hugging herself.

The elevator jingled as it stopped. They both stepped out, Seline feeling weirdly detached from the situation as the fear still coursed through her.

Then Caleb suddenly made three quick steps to the side of the building, reaching the beginning of the decorative grass and promptly threw up all over it.

That snapped her back into action again.

Caleb was shaking, hands braced on his knees, breathing fast. Seline walked to him, first hesitant, but when he groaned, she dared to put her hand on his back. He tensed for a moment before relaxing. He gave her a look from the side, opening his mouth to say something, when his body rocked and heaved again, spluttering vomit onto the grass.

Seline rubbed his back, hating the tremors running through him. Such a nice boy. Even as a wolf, she felt like he would never even think of hitting her. And now he was scared out of his mind by her…what was Matthew to her? A roommate? A friend? A pack member? They weren't a pack, were they?

Can wolves attack their own pack members? She had never heard about it being witches at least - pack witches were always cherished, protected and untouchable.

Was it because they weren't a pack or because they were, but not enough?

“I'm so sorry, Caleb. You are going to be fine. Deep breaths. You are safe.”

Caleb spit on the ground with another groan, then tried to straighten up, swallowing visibly. He looked at her again, perspiration sticking his short blond hair to his forehead.

“No, it's my fault. I was in foreign territory and I-”

“You were invited though. I invited you. I don't know what got into him.” Seline wasn't sure if it made it better or worse, that she lived with someone who couldn't be trusted like that.

“It's a classic response when you have a threatening foreign element on your turf. It's fine. He was worried about you, not me,” Caleb said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“I'm really sorry.”

“No. Humans don't get how wolves work, remember?” He gave her a shaky smile that didn't last more than half a second. “Trust me, Miss Silverstein.”

She rubbed his arm up and down. The texture of his white cardigan was so thin she could feel the shirt underneath. “Don't be so formal with me and let me apologize.”

Caleb shook his head. “I'll accept your apology if it makes you feel better, but really - no harm done. My shadow is so ridiculously small and my reaction is exaggerated. I'm sorry you had to see that.” A bit of color returned to his too-white cheeks as he flushed.

“It's okay. Are you feeling better now? We can go sit somewhere and wait until you are ready.”

He waved her away. “I'm all good. Thank you again for your help.”

Seline watched him go, not knowing how to explain how much worse everything seemed to her now.

@bellysoupset

#emeto #sickfic #whump #whump writing #hurt/comfort #werewolf wip #my writing #I'm just saying being a wolf isn't easy #and those arrangements with the unclear pack is not ideal #Caleb #Seline

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chaotic-archaeologist · 4 months

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This spoonie starts college classes on the 22nd! Anthropology class next semester hopefully:) :)

Hey, that's awesome! Congratulations!!! Now if I may offer a few words of advice...

If you haven't already, I would highly recommend registering with your school's disability services offices to make sure you get whatever accommodations you might need, either physical or academic. When/if you do that, line up the accommodations you'll need on your worst days—you can always not use accommodations if you don't need them, but it's much harder to get new ones added later, especially if you're already struggling.

Remember that professors (and TAs) are people too! If you need help, don't be afraid to reach out! Generally, they should be willing to work with you to figure out a plan, and (speaking from experience) we'd much rather hear from you proactively rather than a week after you haven't turned in an assignment.

Most of all, advocate for yourself! You're the expert on what you need.

Best of luck,

-Reid

#he speaks #academic advice #disability advice #advice for a disabled student

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onebigfangirlworld · 1 year

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Fanfiction Writer Survey

Hi everyone! So i am in an anthropology class this semester for college and one of the assignments is learning about a different cultural and writing about it. I have chosen to research and write about fanfiction writers on Tumblr.

If you have or know someone who has written fanfiction and posted it to Tumblr please send them this survey. It would be really helpful as I’m trying to get as many people as possible to fill out the survey!

Reblogs are very much appreciated! Many thanks

EDIT (april 15, 2023): THANK YOU SO MUCH TO EVERYONE WHO HAS FILLED OUT THIS SURVEY I GOT 58 RESPONSES WHICH IS MORE THAN I THOUGHT I WOULD GET LIKE I WAS HOPING FOR AT LEAST 10 AND YALL HAVE JUST BLOWN IT OUT OF THE PARK.

since I have recieved so many responses I have decided to remove the link from this post and stop accepting response, as I am only allowed to write a maximum of 6 pages for this paper. Maybe in another class later down the line (cause i’m ngl im going to a community college and i’m still figuring out my life) I will come back to fanfiction writers and write another paper about them THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH I AM SENDING YOU ALL MY LOVE

#top gun maverick #Outer Range #Avengers #marvel #dc #rambles of One

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binaural-histolog · 3 months

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Erickson was a Creep

I had not planned to write this blog post or milkshake duck a popular hypnosis hero, but I went down one rabbit hole too many and something snapped into focus.

Milton Erickson was a creep.

There's no way to sugarcoat this. If he was practicing today, he would almost certainly be reported for his practices. Even for his time, he was thought of as creepy.

Richard Bandler notes in Trance-formations that Satir thought Erickson was creepy.

Virginia [Satir] had met Milton and thought he was creepy and didn’t want anything to do with him.

But we don't need to rely on Satir's personal opinion of him. We can cite sources.

Hilgard thought the same thing, although he is more indirect about it. From Milton Erickson as Playwright and Director / scihub link, Hilgard starts us off with a case where husband and wife pees the bed, and his solution is to have them deliberately wet the bed every night for two weeks.

You have your instructions. There is to be no discussion and no debating between you about this, just silence. There is to be only obedience, and you know and will know what to do. 1 will see you again in five weeks’ time. You will then give me a full and amazing account. Goodbye! [Volume IV, 1954, p. 100, emphasis in original].

It gets worse.

We have this example of what Erickson would do when his patient was sexually attractive, emphasis added in places.

One such pair of cases is provided by two disheveled girls with poor self-images, who were treated at different times. These patients differed in that one of them, although slightly overweight, he saw as sexually attractive, even in her present physical condition. The other, extremely overweight, could not appeal to him as sexually attractive, and these differences between the two influenced his choice of scenario. The first, the basically more attractive one, he prepared for the fact that he would shock her, but it would be helpful, dramatically so. “I will outline a course of behavior for you, and this you are to execute without fail. Do you give me your absolute promise [Volume IV, 1930s, p. 485]?” He then referred to her pubic hair as the pretty patch of fur between her legs, and requested that she look at herself in the nude that night before the mirror, examining herself particularly from the waist down and to be pleased by what she saw. “Try to realize how much you would like to have the right man caress your pretty pubic hair and your soft rounded belly” [Volume IV, 1930s, p. 486] The next night she was to examine the upper part of her body, admiring particularly her breasts. In each case she blushed profusely at the suggestions, but was then given amnesia for them, and carried them out, with additions of her own which she was not asked to describe. In the next session, Erickson, after having built her up, attacked her severely for her appearance, her lack of cleanliness, her unkempt hair, and the stains on the dress she had worn each time she came to see him.

When the patient is unattractive, there is no attempt to get her to caress her pubic hair and carry out unnamed additions in front of a mirror, and deal with resistance by giving her amnesia. It's right on to the abuse.

The second patient, the overweight one, he approached immediately with a severe and brutal tongue lashing about her homeliness and fatness and unkempt appearance. Note that in the first case this attack was delayed until some self-confidence had been restored. He was confident that in the second case, the only way she would know that he would be honest with her was to speak out harshly and aggressively. After listening to this onslaught, she agreed to go on in therapy. The behavioral practices assigned to her were numerous library assignments. One had to do with searching out anthropology books to find out how all kinds of misshapen women were able to find someone to think them attractive and marry them. Other assignments opened her eyes to practices in orthodontia, plastic surgery, cosmetology, and hair dressing. The treatment of these two patients with somewhat similar symptoms had in common only the shock of brutal assessment of their deficiencies, delivered at different stages of treatment, and the referral to store clerks to improve the manner in which they dressed.

Hilgard stops here, but the implication is clear: if Erickson thought a female patient was sexually attractive, his approach would include sexual elements.

This is further borne out by My Voice Will Go With You. Let's start by picking out Erickson's intervention with a "sexually numb" woman. It turns out that all she needed was for Erickson to describe a penis, and this is enough to give the woman her first orgasm.

A woman had secured a divorce because she went all numb sexually and this had troubled her husband very much. He couldn't stand living with an unresponsive woman. Then she had a number of boyfriends. She was now living with a man who was separated from his wife—a terribly sordid life. He wanted to have her as his mistress. He placed his children first, his wife second, his mistress third. And she didn't have any response at all. The man was a wealthy man. He gave the woman a lot of things she liked. And she said, "I'm just plain cold. I have no feelings. It's a mechanical thing For me." In a trance, I explained to her about how boys learn to recognize different feelings in their penis—when it's limp, a quarter erect, halfway erect, fully erect. How it feels when detumescence occurs. How it feels when the ejaculation occurs. And I explained to her all about wet dreams in boys. I said, "In every boy half of his ancestors are feminine. And what any boy can do, any girl can do. And so you can have a wet dream at night. In fact, you can have a wet dream any time you wish. In the daytime you may see a handsome man. Why not have one then? He doesn't need to know about it. But you can know about it." She said, "That's an intriguing thought." I noticed that she became abnormally still. Her face flushed. She said, "Dr. Erickson, you've just given me my first orgasm. Thank you very much."

There's another case that starts with a girl farting in the classroom. Erickson shows her his anatomy book, shows a cross-section of the rectum, and tells her to eat beans and start farting.

Then I told her, "Now, I want you to demonstrate earnest, honest respect for God. I want you to bake some beans. They are called whistleberries by the navy. Flavor them with onions and garlic. And get in the nude and prance and dance around your apartment, emitting loud ones, soft ones, big ones, little ones ... and enjoy God's work."

A year later, she's married and gets her breast to nurse her child in front of him. Success!

And she did that. A year later she was married and I made a house call to check up on her. She had a baby. And while I was visiting her, she said, "It's time to nurse the baby." She opened her blouse, exposing her breast, and fed the baby and chatted casually with me, A complete change of reference.

It gets worse.

A twelve old girl phones up Erickson and says "I had infantile paralysis and I have forgotten how to move my arms. Can you hypnotize me and teach me?" I want to know how she picked up the phone and called Erickson with her arms not working, but let's take this at face value, and assume this happened just like Erickson said. What does Erickson do? Have her strip to the waist in front of her mother.

I told her mother to bring her over and her mother brought her over. I looked at the girl. For a twelve-year-old girl she had a very well developed bust, except that the right breast was under her arm, I had the mother strip the girl to her waist and I looked over her entire torso to see what the muscles were.

Then he had the girl make faces repeatedly. No, really.

Now, when you start one muscle moving there's a tendency for that to spread to other muscles. You try to move just one finger. You start to spread the movement, unintentionally. Her arms began to move. Now, the right breast migrated from under her arm to one side of her chest. She is now a lawyer, practicing law.

So, the cause was that she had a breast under her arm. and it caused her arms to stop working. She needed Erickson to explain this. And the solution was to make faces. Can you imagine someone doing this in 2024?

He also asks his wife to check out his daughter's breasts.

In watching my daughters I discovered that happened somewhere around ten years of age. When, for example, Betty Alice was about ten years old and had to pick something off the bookcase or radio, she lifted her arm this way (as if to avoid a large breast). I told Mrs. Erickson, "When Betty Alice takes her bath have a look at her breasts." Mrs. Erickson came out and said, "There's just the beginning of a change in her nipples."

By all accounts, Erickson was driven by a deep-seated need to control, to the point that it damaged his relationship with his daughter. In Cardeña's review of Wizard of the Desert, he describes a section of the DVD.

One of Erickson’s daughters (and executive producer of the documentary) relates with sadness that growing up she could not have just a normal conversation with either her mother, who hyperintellectualized everything, or her father who, although not fully stated, seems to have been in therapist/teacher mode 24/7. Erickson is also described as punishing and sadistic in the demands he imposed on some of his clients, and it is evident that he blurred the boundaries between personal and professional life that therapists are expected to maintain.

Cardeña also says that maybe, just maybe, we should consider that a man who was known to lie to people for therapeutic goals might possibly be lying to his colleagues and students.

To muddy the waters even more, why have not some of the followers of a therapist known to fabricate false past stories to achieve therapeutic goals wondered whether he used that same technique in his writing and teaching?

There's more than this than just the personal creepiness, of course. Erickson's definition of a cure was essentially to conform into society, and you can see that in his definitions of success. Became a lawyer. Got married. The success and meaning is external. Bandler refers to it.

In many ways Milton was one of the most directive hypnotists you would ever want to meet. He only had five goals for people to get well: get out of the hospital, get a job, get married, have children, and send him presents. That was his definition of a cure.

And Erickson was not shy about taking credit for things that he should not have taken credit for. Going back to Hilgard, he describes the case of a WWII vet who Erickson touts as a success.

Harold was a veteran of World War 11 who entered treatment at the age of 23 with a poor background and a bad image of himself as a moron. He changed during treatment from a miserable unskilled laborer through a series of transformations, all the while convinced by Erickson that he was succeeding despite the fact that he was feebleminded. So powerful was Erickson’s strategic control through distorting his self-perception by way of hypnotic amnesia, distractions, redirection of attention, and confusion, that after learning shorthand and typing, serving as a private secretary for 18 months, and making A-grades in college, only then was he given permission to discover that he only thought he was feebleminded.

Erickson's priority was in getting this man fitted into society, and then dealing with his mental issues. And Erickson took credit despite the many, many people helping this man.

As I have noted earlier, despite his strongly authoritarian position as playwright and director, Erickson typically set the stage and the strategy, but left the tactics up to the patient. What is not so evident is the role of many others in producing the therapeutic successes: Joe, who enhanced Harold’s use of the library beyond the reading of children’s books; the married couple who befriended him at the trailer court; the friend who taught him to drive a truck; the transcriber and annotator of rare manuscripts with whom he lived and talked for a year and a half; his teachers (shorthand and typing, piano, guitar [?]), and his college teachers-all of whom are missing from the case study except for the briefest of mention of the piano teacher because she was a woman. [...]

Hilgard goes on to say that Erickson may have had a very direct warping presence on his patient through his control.

Harold’s life away from Erickson may have been very different from the way he appeared in Erickson’s presence. We do not know how fond he became of his teachers or they of him. Although he occasionally asked about Harold’s daily activities in detail, Erickson appears to have been more interested in his own cleverness than in finding out how Harold was perceived in the context of his daily life.

Hilgard says Erickson was essentially given carte blanche to behave however he wanted.

His hypnotic authority allowed Erickson to play the theatrical game of distortion and deception - insisting on Harold’s prolonged compliance with the belief that he was feebleminded. I cannot image any nonhypnotist attempting this, or, for that matter, any other hypnotist. This insistence appears to be specifically Ericksonian, fitting his love of dramatic strategies.

And Hilgard specifically calls out Erickson as doing this for his own personal gratification.

Was Erickson perhaps in some manner overcompensating for his physical weakness by enjoying the power that he achieved over his patients, and gaining vicarious satisfaction over the encounters he assigned them in the real world, some in areas denied to him?

And potentially not only misleading or misdirecting his peers, but also himself.

Had Erickson’s own dramatic way of planning and promoting his own cases led him to some self-deception in the cases as reported? He was unusually good at rationalizing whatever he happened to do, and occasionally appeared to justify failures by converting them into planned successes, as in the case of Harold’s failure in algebra.

The fact that so many of his stories include salacious and unnecessary details is an indication of what Erickson wanted from his patients: unquestioning obedience, humiliating and degrading instructions, gratuitous exposure of women's bodies, and all of it putatively for the patient's benefit.

Even at the time, people knew Erickson's behavior was creepy. As Hilgard notes, if Erickson did not have the stature and the myth associated with him that he had, he would have been treated very differently. His privilege and power protected him from consequence and enabled his behavior to go unchecked.

It is very doubtful that Erickson would have been able to do this in modern day times. He would have been reported, his instructions and conduct recorded. If a disciplinary board didn't deal with him first, he would be showing up on Youtube as a comedian's punch-line.

But the next time you think "What would Erickson do?"

Maybe don't do that.

#hypnosis #erickson #binauralhistolog

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breakerofhalos · 10 months

Text

On it/its Pronouns, Gender, and Becoming

This is mostly for the cishets, but it may be helpful to someone out there, so I’m sharing it anyway.

I've been getting some questions about my pronouns, so I thought I'd give a small explainer for MY reasons for using the pronouns "it/its". To clarify: these are MY reasons for using those pronouns. Trans people have a variety of reasons for choosing the pronouns they choose and can, and often do, shift, add, or discontinue the use of certain pronouns along the course of their lives as their understanding of their own genders changes.

Here's the shortest, most key point of the explanation. I use "it/its" because it gives me gender euphoria. It *feels* right when people use them to refer to me. That's completely subjective and that's fine, gender and pronouns don't have to have any deeper reasoning behind them besides making you feel seen and affirming your self-perception.

Now, being who I am, I've put a lot more thought into this. You don't have to follow any of the other arguments here, they're pretty specialized concepts that have been the source of debate and discussion in the trans community. Trans people in general think much more deeply about gender as a concept, their gender, gendered language, and what is signified by gender than cis people. That is only natural given the amount of thought that has to go in to deciding to defy the normative system of gender assignment.

So to repeat, if this sounds overly academic, arcane, or like hair-splitting to you, that's expected and normal. All you need to know is that using a given set of pronouns is what someone likes, and then you use those pronouns. It can be that simple. If you'd like to know more, read on, and I'll try to keep this coherent.

First layer: Slur reclamation

For a trans person to adopt "it/its" pronouns is to reclaim a subtle slur that has been levied at trans people for a good while. By choosing that, one takes away the power of the bigot in a small way. Not every trans person agrees about this, so it's one of the bigger stumbling blocks for allies. Don't use it/its unless someone asks, but if they do, this is often part of it. It is for me.

Second layer: Neopronouns

"It/its" are considered to be part of what are known as "neopronouns", newer pronouns being used to represent a variety of experiences with gender, including gender non-conformity. Singular "they/them" is NOT a neopronoun, having been in use for centuries, including in Shakespeare. Examples of neopronouns include: xe/xem/xer, ze/zer/zem, fae/faer, and ey,em. No one knows if any of these will gain widespread traction, come to represent gender archetypes that are distinct third or more genders, or what. It's still very new, and forecasting things like that is impossible. Again, as in all things pronouns, if someone asks, respect that.

Third Layer: Xenogenders

Ok, so this is where things start getting more philosophical and theoretical. Beyond slur reclamation, and beyond trying out neopronouns as a way to denote a non-binary gender in general, there's xenogenders.

This one is really not on mainstream radar at all basically, and in trans community it's controversial. The basic idea is that a xenogender person identifies with something *other* than human as a gender. It's a really broad umbrella. Now, this is where a lot of people get lost because they're familiar with a certain set of societally accepted genders (yes, non-binary has varying levels of acceptance, but it's in the general social schema now).

Here's the thing, people have been arguing about *what* gender *is* for literal millennia. The ancient Greeks argued about it, Ancient Egyptians have Hatshepsut, the Sumerians had a trans priestesshood of Inanna, Scythians had early HRT and transition. There's a lot of ideas and nuance and discussion across philosophy (trying to come up with a coherent, universally applicable approach and definition) and anthropology (how have humans experienced gender and lived it through time?), but NOT medicine. Medicine and science are not able to discuss gender because first, they're dealing with questions of observable biological phenomena and gender is on the level of an abstract concept. Sex is biology, gender is society. Second, biologically observing sex is vastly complicated on its own.

Anyway, there's a few major theories of gender that I have a basic knowledge of:

The Gonadal Model: this is what people who say that gender is "what you have in your pants" follow. It's a pretty bad model. First, unless you're extremely close with someone, you have no idea what's in their pants. You generally assume that based on other characteristics about their appearance and behavior. Second, gonadal expression is unreliable, even if you attempt to verify it. Intersex people exist, in greater quantities than redheads. Some have genitalia that does not fit into a "standard" model. Some do, but don't have those secondary, outwardly visible characteristics that one would "expect". And some appear to fit into a "standard" category while having invisible chromosomal abnormalities that they, their doctors, and other people might never know about. Seriously. A person can have XY chromosomes and develop a female biological expression and never realize that their chromosomes are otherwise. Almost no one ever actually tests their chromosomes.

Performativity Theory: this is the idea that gender is the mix between what one person "performs" as their gender and what others around them categorize them as. Which gendered signals does a person send? Do they have long hair, makeup, are shorter, and have a specific vocal pitch? That is read as woman. Tall, hairy, deeper vocal pitch, and aggressive? That gets read as a man. Passing trans women would then *be* women. Butch women might be read as masculine to the point of being called men in some situations. Feminine gay men might read as more feminine than masculine, or be accepted as "one of the girls". The idea here being that society should be more open to accepting trans people as the gender they claim because there's an attempt to fit into those roles and signals. Basically "You are what you signal, regardless of the skill at signaling." It's more expansive, but has limits.

Self ID Model: a person is what they say they are. This is the only model that includes all cis people in the gender they claim, and does not exclude any cis people. Conveniently, it also includes all trans people. Now, this opens up to the classic "slippery slope" of trans identity: "If people are what they say they are, what if someone says that they're an animal/alien/attack helicopter? This says they are, when they clearly aren't!" Yes. Yes it does. Unsubscribe to the idea of gender as an emergent self-schema, and gender as play. Gender is what a person understands themselves to be, and that emerges over the course of their life as they experience, learn, and experiment. It's the best way I have found to talk about how I, and others describe experiencing things.

I grew up without knowledge of trans-ness, and therefore couldn't understand myself as trans. I always felt uncomfortable, or inadequate in fitting into masculinity. Once I understood more, I put names to feelings, and developed the conceptual vocabulary to understand myself. My gender emerged. It continues to emerge. Even cis people change their relationship with the social standards of their gender and what it means to them over their lives. It might not end up as far from start as trans journeys is all.

So, finally getting down to trying to put my gender into words. I do not identify as fully *human*. I've experienced an alienation from society and humanity as whole for most of my life. I want to be seen as *femme*, or having feminine traits and presentation. To be "female shaped". I also want to transgress expectations, being bald and not wearing a wig is one aspect of this. I see myself as succubian, a gender identity describing wanting to embody feminine seductiveness and sexuality, to the point of hyperromanticism or hypersexuality. Many succubians come to this as a result of sexual trauma, but it's not required. I also want to be see as a witch. In the old, scary, but also capable and caring for those considered part of the community. It's not easy to explain fully, it's easier to express in fiction and metaphor. This is my attempt to get there with the *shortest* amount of explanation and theory lol. I think it is a grounded perspective, based in gender theory, logic, and lived experience. People can disagree, just be polite about it.

Fourth Layer: Not A Person

Not A Person is a term in use among some of the trans community, it is VERY niche within a niche. Again, this means different things depending on who is saying it, and _when_ they say it. What I mean is very much informed by this essay: https://voidgoddess.org/emptyspaces/notaperson/

The basic idea is that as a society, we do not think of ourselves as hurting people. We care about people. We're dealing with problems, like immigration, houselessness, mental health, and "LGBT Grooming". This lets us abstract away the harm to people by removing their status as a Person. So fuck it, I'm not going to try to gain the conditional respect that is clearly inconsistent and used to split society into People, and Unpeople. I'll take that Unpeople label and wear it with pride, expressing solidarity with all the other wretched and oppressed. I never liked society's constraints anyway.

It's a conscious rejection of social approval in favor of radical empathy and individual expression. I'm Not a Person, I'm so much more.

Obviously this is controversial, and not any kind of prescriptive rule for living, but it's a reminder of where I stand, and with who. Right now, I could put my old clothes on, and aside from already having made changes to my ID, pass as a white cishet man. I could easily boymode and use that perception to access social privilege. Every day, I wake up, and choose to express who I am, even if it makes the world a much more dangerous place. I accept that danger, and my otherness, and wear it as armor. I use it/its pronouns as part of that, and as a way to make people uncomfortable in order to give them cause to examine that discomfort and do a little bit more thinking than they otherwise planned on that day. Hopefully it helps them grow.

#pronouns #gender #transfem #transgender #neopronouns #xenogender #empty spaces

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berryunho · 2 years

Text

THE ANSWER: Saratoga

Kim Hongjoong doesn’t like the word ‘cult.’ He prefers ‘sect.’ pairing: ateez x fem reader genre: cult au, thriller, angst check warnings on AO3

← previous || next → || masterlist chapter word count: 2,905

Mingi sighs, staring at the blank document in front of him.

This paper is not going to write itself, but, at this rate, neither is Mingi. The Google Docs cursor blinks at him, reminding him of the fact that he isn’t actively typing.

This is stupid, anyways. Why does his professor, who has spent her entire life studying the American Revolution, need Mingi to write a paper on the Battles of Saratoga? Like, shouldn’t she have enough of her own information? Does she really need some poor undergrad to write a paper about it?

Mingi looks at all of the tabs that he has open, scanning across the tiny titles for anything that could motivate him to start this paper. Literally anything.

Considering the amount of tabs open, Mingi is lucky to be able to read even three letters on each tab, so that idea quickly proves fruitless. Groaning, he leans back in his chair, rubbing his face with his hands.

Writing a paper two days before it’s due in the biggest library on campus at two in the morning may not have been his brightest idea ever. But, hey, that’s finals week, right? Plus, he had spent all of yesterday goofing off with (Y/n) instead of writing, but that’s an entirely different thing. That was worth the cramming.

Mingi looks around the library, trying to clear his mind.

Paper. The paper. The Battles of Saratoga. John Burgoyne. Horatio Gates. 10,000 words.

He looks back at the blank Google doc. “I’m gonna cry,” he whispers, leaning forward to rest his face on the desk in front of him.

Mingi is vaguely aware that falling asleep right now would be a very bad idea. But its two in the morning and he’s tired. Would any paper that he wrote right now even be intelligible tomorrow morning? Probably not. Maybe he should just sleep…

Just as Mingi is about to accept his fate, there’s a tap on his back. He startles, quickly sitting back up in order to face the person that snuck up on him with shocking efficiency.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” Jongho says just as Mingi registers who it is.

Mingi lets out a small laugh over his own actions, “No, no, it’s fine. I just didn’t know anyone else was here… What are you doing here?”

Jongho rolls his eyes, “My anthropology professor assigned us some last minute project and said we don’t have to take the final exam if we do this instead, so…” He nods toward Mingi’s open laptop, “Paper not coming along too well?”

“Very badly. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about either Battle of Saratoga, would you?”

“What the hell is that?” Jongho frowns.

“Precisely.”

The two laugh together for a moment, forgetting that they’re in the library. “Shit, we have to be quiet,” Jongho says, albeit between laughs. “Do you want to swing by the vending machines and get a Monster or something? You look tired.”

“I really should probably just write,” Mingi thinks for a moment, “but, yeah, actually, that might help me focus.” He shuts his laptop, not bothering to bundle it up and take it with him. This late at night, who would there be to even steal it?

Once they’re out of the main body of the library, they’re more free to talk normally. They walk side by side, down the hallway and toward the stairs. Whoever decided that the main library should be on the third floor, with the vending machines in the basement, Mingi would never understand.

“So how’s (Y/n)?” Jongho asks, his voice echoing through the empty hall.

“What do you mean? She’s fine, I suppose, maybe stressed about finals.” Mingi thinks for a moment, trying to recall how much he’s told Jongho about her.

Truthfully, Mingi and Jongho hadn’t been friends for very long. They had never even spent time alone together, this being the first time. Jongho was nice enough, but… there’s just something about him. Mingi knows for sure that he’s never met (Y/n), so the fact that he’s asking about her is a little strange.

Jongho cracks a smile, “I mean how are the two of you, I guess. Any developments?”

Mingi lightly shoves Jongho’s shoulder. “Shut up, we don’t like each other like that.” Mingi knows that Jongho is joking, having heard these types of comments from every single one of his friends before. It’s like some long standing bet that Mingi and (Y/n) will get together, but no one knows when.

“Uh-huh. Okay. Whatever you say, Mingi.” The sarcasm is evident in Jongho’s voice, and Mingi supposes it’s for good enough reason.

Mingi definitely likes (Y/n) like that. But she doesn’t like him like that. So it’s just easier to act like he doesn't. Easier to bear the jokes and suck it up. Mingi would never risk losing (Y/n) over something as stupid as his feelings for her, so it’s just better to say nothing at all. Let his friends tease him as much as he wants, as long as (Y/n) doesn’t care, he doesn’t either.

“Doesn’t it hurt, though?” Jongho asks, stopping in the hallway. The question comes out of the blue, and honestly isn’t something that Mingi feels like he has the right to ask. They hardly know each other.

Mingi stops alongside Jongho, turning toward him. “What do you mean?” His tone is accusatory, to match the minor offense he feels by Jongho’s question.

“Being hopelessly in love with someone that can’t tell, doesn’t that hurt?” Jongho looks genuinely curious. “I wouldn’t be able to do it, see her everyday and just pretend like I’m okay just being friends, but maybe that’s just me.” He shrugs.

Mingi doesn’t respond for a moment, wondering if it is really that obvious that he loves her. And, if it is, then why hasn’t she noticed? Mingi blurts out his answer before he can think about it, “It would hurt more to not see her at all.”

“You really think so?” Jongho resumes walking, his pace quite slow. “Wouldn’t it be easier to just rip the bandaid off? Let her reject you and move on with your life, if you really think that that’s what would happen?”

Mingi pauses, his stomach sinking. “Do you think she would reject me?”

Jongho shrugs again. “I don’t know her, but, just from knowing you, I’m gonna say that she wouldn’t. But, if she did, at least you wouldn’t be hung up on her for the rest of your life.’

“But if she rejected me and then I had to see her everyday, that might be hard, don’t you think?”

“Who says you would have to see her everyday?”

Mingi’s brows furrow. “What do you mean?”

“Just that you don’t have to see her everyday, that’s all.” Jongho says it so nonchalantly that it almost throws Mingi off guard. Mingi can hardly imagine a life where he doesn’t see (Y/n) everyday, and can’t sooner imagine one where he wouldn’t want to. “If you really wanted to get away, I know a place.”

Mingi nods his head, leaving Jongho to be cryptic with himself. Mingi honestly has no desire to ‘get away’ at least not at this moment. Maybe get away from his stupid paper on the stupid Battles of Saratoga, but not from (Y/n), not at all.

.・。.・゜✭ ⧖ ・.・ ⧖ ✫・゜・。.

“Can I talk to you about something?” Mingi asks, wringing his hands together in his lap. He hopes that (Y/n) doesn’t see, and he hopes that he can’t detect the nervous waiver in his voice.

Okay, so, maybe Jongho had gotten to him. For whatever reason, Mingi couldn’t get the weird, two a.m. conversation out of his head. While he was able to get a good start on the paper after drinking the Monster he got from the vending machine, he wasn’t able to focus on much else other than (Y/n).

From across the table, (Y/n) shovels a spoonful of soup into her mouth. “Sure?”

Mingi clears his throat a bit, watching her eat her soup. It’s things like this that really make Mingi realize he loves her. The way she holds her spoon, the way she sets her phone down to look at him as he speaks, the way she holds her bowl steady, the way her voice changes as she asks a question, the confused yet comfortable look in her eyes, everything about her. His stomach flips, his nerves going crazy.

He hadn’t planned this speech at all. Hadn’t even thought he was going to say anything until three minutes ago. “We’ve been really close for a while now.”

(Y/n) raises her eyebrows. Setting her spoon down in the bowl in front of her. “Uh-huh.”

“How do you feel when our friends tease us about that? When they say we should just get together already?” Mingi is sure that if he put one of his hands on the table it would leave a noticeable hand print of sweat.

“Its kind of annoying, I guess,” she starts, shrugging, “can’t we just be friends? No one would say anything if we were both guys or both girls.”

Mingi nods, feeling all of his hope deflate out of him. “Oh, yeah, I guess.”

“How do you feel about it?” She asks, “Does it not bother you?”

Shrugging, Mingi gathers all of the courage he can muster, “Maybe a little bit. But sometimes I wonder if they’re right.”

(Y/n) laughs across from him. Laughs. “Right about what? Us being a couple?” She goes back to eating her soup, then. “That’s funny, Mingi.”

“The thought that we could be more is funny to you?” Mingi’s tone is angrier than he had expected it to be. He’s surprised by his own reaction, but there’s not much he can do to take it back.

Her eyes widen. “Why do you sound mad? I just meant that I don’t think of you like that.”

“Sorry,” Mingi starts, standing, “I just don’t think the idea is that funny.” He takes that as his opportunity to walk away, leaving (Y/n) and her soup alone at the table. He has to fight the urge to turn back and look at her, see what her reaction to his statement is.

His phone dings in his pocket as he continues walking. He pulls it out, greeted by a message from none other than (Y/n), “song mingi if you don’t turn around right now so help me god”

Mingi turns on his heel, still able to see (Y/n) from her spot at the table. She’s still sitting there, spoon in hand, as she stares at him. She quickly beckons for him to come back once she sees that he has her attention, but he shakes his head.

Throwing her head back, she looks back at her phone, typing at such a fervent speed that Mingi gets the text only seconds later, “do you have something you need to say to me?????”

Mingi looks up from his phone to her, neither confirming nor denying. While he’s aware that he’s acting like a child, something in him can’t go back. He can’t face this issue right now, not when he’s emotional. In a way, he supposes that he should’ve expected this. Hadn’t he expected rejection anyway? Why is he disappointed? What did he really think would come from asking his best friend if she ever thought they would be together? It seems so stupid to Mingi now, staring at (Y/n) from across the room as she stares back at him in question.

Mingi doesn’t respond to (Y/n)’s text, and he doesn’t go back to her. Instead, he turns on his heel and exits.

.・。.・゜✭ ⧖ ・.・ ⧖ ✫・゜・。.

Things go relatively back to normal after that.

Sure, Mingi doesn’t talk to (Y/n) for a couple of days, but he could never stay upset with her. Though there is a tiny bit of lingering awkwardness (at least on Mingi’s part), it’s not unbearable. For the most part, the pair ignore that Mingi had ever even said anything.

Not that that’s what Mingi had been hoping for. He had wanted to go back to (Y/n) and tell her everything the second after he left her alone with her soup, had wanted to make it some sort of cheesy romcom-esque love confession. Unfortunately, Mingi also knew that he needed to stay sane for the remainder of the week, and decided that embarrassing himself like that would not be the way to do it.

Still, Mingi wants to tell her. He does. The issue is completely compounded now. Now that Mingi was so close to telling her, the way he feels about (Y/n) is becoming almost unbearable. Everything she does, everything she says, every second they’re together makes him love her more. Mingi can feel the words brewing at his lips every time that he’s alone with her, thinking about how easy it would be to just spit out his feelings.

But he doesn’t. He holds his tongue, because he can’t lose her. He couldn’t bear it.

That is, of course, until he bumps into Jongho on his walk back to his dorm. He’s with someone that Mingi has never met before, which Mingi is absolutely positive about because he’s sure that he would remember someone so… interesting.

Mingi is intrigued enough to call out to them, “Jongho?”

“Oh, hey Mingi, we were just looking for you, actually.” Jongho smiles once he notices that he has Mingi’s rapt attention.

“Looking for me? Why?”

Jongho gestures to his friend. “I wanted to introduce you to Hongjoong.”

Mingi looks Hongjoong up and down. In the most polite way possible, he’s… definitely something to look at. He’s dressed like he just walked off the set of Little House on the Prairie, for one thing. Mingi doesn’t like to judge people based on their physical appearances, not at all, but this guy has a mullet. Like an honest to God mullet. And a pretty bad one at that.

Mingi’s caught off guard when Hongjoong sticks his hand out, “It’s nice to meet you, Mingi.”

He takes his hand, shaking it for as short of a socially acceptable time as possible, neglecting to return the sentiment.

“Hongjoong used to be a student here,” Jongho explains, “just wanted to reminisce a bit.”

Hongjoong gives a small laugh, one that Mingi senses isn’t very genuine. “Turns out theology wasn’t for me.”

Mingi uneasily laughs along, “I’ve had that moment plenty of times, though I’m a history major.”

The three men stand in silence for a moment as Mingi tries to think of an excuse to leave. His curiosity has been satisfied, he met the weirdo with Jongho, time to go.

“Well, I actually have to get back to work on my pape-”

“I actually had something I wanted to ask you,” Jongho cuts Mingi off, “Hongjoong, could you give us a second alone?”

Hongjoong nods and walks over to a bench sitting near the sidewalk, sitting down as Jongho lightly grabs Mingi’s arm and pulls him further away.

“Are you doing okay? I found out about (Y/n).” Jongho asks, sounding rather concerned.

How had Jongho heard about his blunder with (Y/n)? He hasn’t even seen Jongho since that night at the library, let alone spoke to him about her.

“What are you referring to, exactly?” Mingi doesn’t want to share his little embarrassment with Jongho if he doesn’t have to.

Jongho’s brows furrow, “You don’t know? Apparently (Y/n) has been going out with some guy named Changbin?”

Now it’s Mingi’s turn to be confused, “What?”

Why wouldn’t she say anything? Why wouldn’t Changbin say anything? Sure, they’ve flirted, but never seriously… at least, that’s what Mingi thought.

“I wasn’t there, but one of my friends told me he saw them at Dirt being rather… friendly with each other.”

Mingi shakes his head, not ready to believe the story. “When was this?” Mingi had spent the past few nights studying with (Y/n), besides Thursday, so if Jongho says any other day, he’ll know that it wasn’t actually (Y/n) that was seen.

“Thursday.” Jongho’s statement deflates any remaining hope that Mingi held onto. “I’m sorry, Mingi, I thought you knew; I thought she would’ve told you.”

Mingi nods, trying to wrap his head around what the hell Jongho just told him. If (Y/n) and Changbin are dating, why wouldn’t either of them say anything? Why had (Y/n) not told him when he tried to confess to her? Is it so new that they don’t want to say anything, in case it doesn’t work out? If that’s the case, though, would they be getting ‘friendly’ at Dirt? (Y/n) isn’t like that, not at all, so the thought is honestly perplexing to Mingi.

Why Changbin? Why not him? What did he have that Mingi didn’t? The guts to ask her out? Did she even like Changbin? She never talked to Mingi about him, outside of normal friendship things. Did he just wear her down enough that she eventually agreed to go out with him and realized that she was actually into him? There’s so many questions that Mingi doesn’t have the answer to.

Why not him?

“What were you telling me the other night? About a place to get away?”

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