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wellhalesbells · 8 months ago

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20 questions for fic writers

Tagged by @piratefalls! Yay, wasting time - I've been doing so much of that today and thank you for giving me another way to! (Seriously, I would've just been watching more Youtube compilations without you.) That's probably why these answers are so long. Procrastination? Wellllll don't mind if I do!

How many works do you have on ao3? 154

What's your total ao3 word count?

1,280,205

What fandoms do you write for?

Primarily Teen Wolf and Harry Potter. HP was my original homeslice and I kind of sharpened my teeth on fic-writing in general there, found what I liked and didn't like, how to engage with fandom, what I found attractive and what turned me off (for characters and plot beats), honed my craft and made my mistakes there and then with the advent of AO3 and the finding of Teen Wolf, I feel like I blossomed and built a home and am hopefully making fewer oopsiedoosles. Though I have also written a fic or so for: Hannibal, The Meg, Mr. Robot, X-Men, Star Trek, and Breaking Bad.

Top five fics by kudos:

There's Monsters at Home, Sterek, Teen Wolf. (15,285)

Time to Eternity, Drarry, Harry Potter. (8,416)

Option C) Some Bad Guys are Werewolves, but Not All Werewolves are Bad Guys, Sterek, Teen Wolf. (7,759)

Of Bananas, Babies and Buzzkills, Sterek, Teen Wolf. (5,134)

Instructions for Dancing, Sterek, Teen Wolf. (5,099)

Do you respond to comments?

Not anymore. Occasionally one that asks a direct question I'll answer, if that answer isn't already somewhere on or in the fic.

Though the last one I answered was someone who didn't read my tags or notes, telling me I didn't warn for something that was in the tags and notes, and I was so polite, like, "How can I make this clearer?" instead of saying, "#!@%^&$@$@#^$%&$^&^&$%^@#$%" like I fucking wanted to and they then said: "Oh yeah, I didn't read any of that, guess you don't need to change anything." Which was exactly what I expected would happen and I took the time to answer because I want more than anything to teach that person a lesson, even though I am absolutely certain they learned nothing from the interaction. But I tried, I did my part, and I wasn't even an asshole about it. (Please, please, please, the amount of times I've been told in the snarkiest damn fashion to tag for something that is already fucking tagged...... like, how do I have to say: read the tags before snidely chastising me for what isn't in them?? And it's not like.... I used different language or anything, they will ask me to tag for the EXACT DAMN TAG already on the fic. My collection of these comments is genuinely getting out of hand.)

And there is one I kind of want to answer that I got in the last month or so because it's one of the nicest and most vulnerable things I've ever been told but there aren't enough letters, or strong enough ones, or big enough ones to hold all the gratitude and care that wants to pour into them so I just... haven't.

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Hrm, I think these are just the most obvious of those and if I actually had to sit with this and go through my catalogue of fic, I would come up with a way more off-center answer because the angst is much subtler but harder hitting but that sounds like it would take brain power and, wow, is it that late already *coughs*

Either I Smoke My Friends Down to the Filter or But the Mess Prevails. I think maybe the latter because it's kind of triumphant in ISMFDttF, Stiles stands up for himself, but in BtMP they both want to be together but it's just another way for Derek to punish himself if they are.

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Similar caveat to the one above as I'm not really focusing on ending (because more brain power) as much as just happy overall. Either [Hilary Duff Lyric Redacted] or Instructions for Dancing - they are both just fluff bombs almost entirely from start to finish.

Do you get hate on fics?

Mostly no. There's one fic that I have comments turned off on (THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS FUNCTION, AO3, 10000000% THIS FIC WOULD NOT STILL EXIST IF NOT FOR YOU) because people would yell things at me I already explicitly stated I agreed with? Like I wrote a fic for a fest (back when I wrote in a lot fests, lol), it was a dark prompt and I can't remember if the prompter wanted a happy ending or if it was a stipulation of the fest that it couldn't end badly but it's a dark prompt so while I could get the two characters to the point of co-parenting, I did not get them back together. And the comments I mainly got were: how dare you get them the fuck back together? To which I was like: um, I didn't, also if I was forced to keep going with this fic, this character would end up with this one instead. And then I got a deluge of comments that were like: how dare you get them back together!? And for a while, I explained that you read into it, which is understandable as - to satisfy whomever's requirement - it is an impression I wanted you to walk away with, but as you'll notice at no point are they back together or romantically involved again, they're in the same room and have reached a ceasefire, that's it. And that's as friendly as I see that relationship getting, and no one read any of that and kept yelling at me for the same reason and mentally I was like: fuck all of you, either the fic goes or I do so I turned off the comments so I wouldn't delete it. I find since commenting is off (or "hidden" rather, I can still see it and have the option to approve or nuke it), people have to really engage with a) what I've already replied before and b) whether or not it's worth it to leave a review that will literally only be seen by me. Suddenly everyone has reading comprehension and no one is just yelling to yell because the only one you're engaging with is *jazz hands* me, and I am obviously not the audience for that.

Do you write smut?

Yep!

Craziest crossover:

I have a Hunger Games/TW one that is one of two unfinished fics on AO3 because every time I even think about it, it intimidates me. And since I don't read crossovers, I have no idea how you're supposed to do them or how much of the other IP you can take on without it seeming like you've just rewritten with different characters or how much you should change when everyone knows what you're working from anyway - it's all a mystery to me and I am flummoxed by it.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

People post my old HP shit that no longer exists on the internet to Wattpad quite a bit and I am not savvy enough to figure out how to get it down. The few times I've contacted people who posted it under my name to take it down, instead just remove my name and fully pretend it's theirs. On some, I've found the people on LJ who have saved the fic in question and are giving it out and quietly asked them to stop because they were ending up as stolen fic on Wattpad.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes, many!

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Em and I have started one but never finished - it's me, I'm Mr. Ambrose: "I start, I don't finish things."

All time favorite ship?

I think it's Stiles and Derek, man??? I don't know, I have a lot of niche ones too that I feel like if there were more content/interest, they would be it but there isn't sooooo....

What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

That THG/TW fic - it scares me so much. Like, who was that confident girl who didn't understand things at all and was like: yeah, that's fine? Don't know her. PvW - I have a lot written in the future and for the next chapter, plus an outline, it's just a matter of getting my attention to stay on it and I have the next chapter of WDHGsGA written and an outline for the next two, I just don't want to post it until it's totally finished so I don't have to worry about losing the atmosphere/tone again and, again, I just have to get my focus back to it but the chances of me letting that writing go totally down the drain? Unlikely.

What are your writing strengths?

Um, I think I have a good understanding of how humans work. I think writing is definitely made a lot easier when you have a handle on the psychology and a gut sense for people. It's not hard to craft fake scenarios when you have a pretty decent understanding of how people would react in them.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Grammar-wise, commas throw me completely. I have no idea where they're supposed to go and I do my best, okay?! I really only got Florida public school education on this and it was: wherever you feel like you should have one, do that.

More generally, I also feel like I don't have the same needs to satisfy as a large percentage of readers - I need a relationship at the core of a fic to feel significant and weighty to want to write a story about it, but that doesn't mean it needs to survive to the end of said fic or that characters need to hit certain relationship milestones for it to feel worthwhile to me. I think this sometimes leads me to endings that some people feel are unsatisfying because I got what I needed but maybe some readers didn't?

Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

Totally neutral. Doesn't bother or thrill me to any extent.

First fandom you wrote in?

Harry Potter.

Favorite fic you've written?

Favorite? That's hard. I'm, as mentioned, super shitty at finishing things so the fact that TMaH is completed - even without going into any of its content (all of which is made to order, absolutely my favorite stuff) - makes it a top contender.

I also still really love A Fine Foray into Fashionable Fellatio, the last Harry Potter fic I wrote, which was Draco/Ron. I love that to kick my brain into gear, I would start mentally painting the scenes, from oranges and reds to beiges and cool winter blues - I don't know I've ever used color so much in anything. It hasn't worked since and I think it's because - having been away from those characters and that fandom for so long - I had such a crystal clear image of them and because Draco, especially, was so different from how he's usually pictured in fic/fanart (curly-haired, absolutely swank as fuck Muggle style) that the lines were so defined it was easy to paint within them.

And I think my favorite writing piece right now is He Speaks in Petals. It's such a short fic and I reread it in the last year or so and it's so much more lyrical than I remember. I knew that was what I was going for and I did not think I managed it but it's got some really soft, kind whimsy to it that I like a lot and find very calming and reaffirming.

No pressure tagging @kikiroo, @rosieposiepuddingnpie, @literaryoblivion, @yodas-yo-yo, @clotpolesonly, @callunavulgari, @andavs, @i-sveikata, @alocalband !

#sterek #drarry #dron #teen wolf #harry potter #my writing #meme #meme answers #thanks for the tag kel!#i probably talked way too much on here but like...... i really am just a ball of DOING NOTHING on my couch today soooo

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pielove123clan · 7 months ago

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No one asked for my two cents but this is how social media works yeah? To be social? This isn't backed up by anything because I'm lazy and I'm procrastinating enough already. I am not a trained profesional with mental health in anyway, shape, or form, I am just a random person on the internet who feels very heated right now.

I hate people who are like this. I have a right to be sad. Don't misinterpret this as me hating when someone tries to help me, getting mad at them. I guess it is how the sadness is being framed by the other person. If it were this easy, we'd all be frolicking in the feilds and no wars happening, no more anguish. Your going to stop being sad one way or another. That is inevitible. Doesn't matter though because the person is sad in the present. Won't you help?

If the other person comes at me with, "Don't be sad, everything will be ok." Fine. Ok. That's good. You're doing ok. The spiteful part of my brain will think cynically but I appreciate it. The gesture is meaningful and everything feels an tad inch better. It's understandable if you can't say a thing.

If the other person comes along and is like, "Don't cry. You're an adult. Get over it. It's not that bad. You'll go through worse soon." Stop right there. That is not how you deal with this. Everyone has feelings and diffrent life, even if it doesn't seem hard to you. Saying something like this can hurt the other person's feelings or get them to bottle up. This can effect the person in the long run if your telling this to a child.

It seems so obvious, its the lesson that's taught in all the children tv shows! But, if you've been raised by an adult or parent figure or live in a culture that relays heavily on children being lower than the parents, or a difficult home life, this knee-jerk reaction is engrained within their head, its an aspect of the cycle of abuse. Likely, this is repeated more than once within the lifespan of the child. If not corrected, the child will grow up into an adult and if they have offspring, this mindset gets spread to them and then the offspring have to suffer.

There's no one size fits all solution when your dealing with human beings because of how fickle and conditional every aspect of us is? Here's some alternative suggestions to just telling the person not to be sad.:

Distration - Invite them to do something if they'd like to try and get them to feel better

Call them. Let them hear your voice.

Tell them how much you appreciate them

Let them vent and listen to them

Suprise them with something they like

Say some jokes? Maybe

Physical affection and a physical sholder to cry on I hear does wonders.

Do art, any type of art to release those feelings if needed.

Guide them to approriate resources or people they trust. THAT THEY TRUST. Or they can trust. Use your judgement here, if their parent's an asshole, don't direct them to their parents right away. Bad decision. Do not.

Just try to comfort them if their fine

Leave the person alone if they need to be left alone, sometimes we all just need to calm down, relax, take a deep breath, or don't, whatever.

Check up on them later. You need to. Just don't be overbearing, you don't need to check on them 24/7 unless this is a very big emergency and their a risk to themselves or others around them. But even then, TREAT THEM HUMAN. THEY ARE STILL HUMAN.

Just stay safe. Please stay safe. Your not alone in helping them and you need to stay safe.

The idea is, you should not force someone to be happy. Let them experince their emotions out. It's terrible to ball this all up but it's just as bad to try and tell the person how they are supposed to feel.

No worries too if you can't do these, not everyone can think rationally in an emergency. These also seem appropriate to share.

#tanuki speaks #sorry mae

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olderthannetfic · 3 years ago

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Do you use a story structure? If so, which one?

I... what?

You mean like setting out to write The Hero's Journey or something?

I'm supposed to be finishing a draft by Monday, and I spent all morning writing, so I am desperate to procrastinate and do literally anything other than write my draft by now, of course, so I will happily blather about my process. Haha.

Since I was little, I've read a ton of books that are very structure-focused, mystery in particular. Romance tends to have a canned structure, but mystery makes it even more obvious, especially if you read a lot in the same subgenre like Golden Age cozies.

I don't know if my brain was always like this or if a steady diet of Nancy Drew and then harder books made me like this, but I have a very instinctive grasp of structure. I'm on the extreme end of planner rather than pantser, so I outline everything to death, but my plotbunnies also come to me with a fair amount of workable plot already included.

Googling gets me a bunch of how-to articles, so I guess I do understand what you're asking, but when I hear the words 'story structure', I think of a descriptive framework applied after the fact. I look at structure while trying to analyze a work I want to imitate or when revising a story that isn't working well enough.

I do dimly recall trying to structure an outline according to some writing advice books years ago, and I did look at things like Three Act Structure at the time. I remember finding it awkward. Even the examples these books give where they wedge a famous movie into the structure usually confuse me. Why is X the end of act 2 rather than the beginning of act 3? It often feels arbitrary and subjective.

When I outline, I do often think things like "This is Agatha Christie pastiche, so it needs 2 red herring murderers before the real one is revealed". And then I go find 2 big red herrings.

That eunuch porn fic I was talking about the other day came to me as a plotbunny for the first chapter: Tang Fan has been captured by villains and is unsure if Wang Zhi is evil or not. Wang Zhi lets him know he's not by quoting Tang Fan's most embarrassing writing back at him since there's no other way to communicate in front of the villains.

It was, of course, an image from Romancing the Stone where the hero asks what kind of sick mind came up with the trap they're in and the heroine has to admit that it's from her own novel. I wanted that dynamic with Tang Fan and his canon love interest Sui Zhou who doesn't know he writes trashy novels. (For those who haven't seen Sleuth of the Ming Dynasty, this is an actual canon thing. Tang Fan does the women's voices while he's reading his trash romance aloud to himself too. Best show ever.)

I wanted other POVs, so I quickly realized I would probably want three chapters, one from each POV.

I also realized that the big point of the fic is who knows what when, so the internal structure of chapters is entirely things like Tang Fan anxiously trying to figure out whether Wang Zhi is evil and then the climax of that or Sui Zhou freaking out about what's been going on and then the resolution of it being Tang Fan's idea after all.

But I wasn't thinking in terms of three act structure or anything like that. I was thinking in terms of individual emotional arcs and rising tension, then some kind of catharsis or climax, then rising tension about something else, etc.

I do think about the building blocks of structure, like inciting incidents. I find those parts more useful than trying to follow a canned whole.

Oh! I did try the snowflake method once, and it's similar to how I naturally operate but I found that trying to do a specific method actually just cramped my style.

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milkybonya · 4 years ago

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i'm not the same boy you knew back then

Warnings: food mentions and some angst, party mentions

Pairing: Yedam x (gn)reader

Summary: where Yedam broke your heart in high school because he didn't know how to act but now he's desperately in love with you and wishes you still felt the same :")

word count: 5.8k

inspired by Walls by All Time Low (it has explicit language! be careful~~i've put a link for it at the veryyy end of this fic)

[a/n]: I GOT SO CARRIED AWAY FOR THE FLASHBACK PART OF THIS OML I'M SORRY FOR THE CHAOS AND MESS BUT I HOPE YOU ENJOY

Hey there it's good to see you again, It never felt right calling this "just friends". I'm happy, if you're happy, with yourself.

"Isn't that Yedam?" your friend, sat beside you, asks. They point to somewhere behind your head, and naturally, you turn around to follow their finger with your eyes.

As the doors to the lecture hall swing shut, a familiar boy begins to walk quickly down the steps. While grinning, he decides on a spot near the back, far away from your almost front-row seat. You let out the breath you didn't realize you were holding and face the front.

"Since when did he go to our university?" your friend asks, also facing the front now.

"I have no clue," you admit.

You'd purposely accepted an offer at a faraway university to avoid having to see Yedam ever again after high school. High school had become one of the worst times of your life thanks to him.

Yedam's pov

As soon as I enter the hall, I find [y/n] with my eyes immediately. They look at me with a mix of shock, disgust and hatred, but seeing them fills me with so much joy that I can't help but smile.

Deciding not to bother them, I pick a spot near the back and sit down. I wonder to myself if switching to [y/n]'s school was the right choice...

[y/n]'s pov

It was obvious you were too much for me. Oblivious, I was young

Back in high school, you had the fattest crush on one of the school's most popular kids, and you hated yourself for it. It wasn't like you could control your feelings... but your heart was set on him. His smile made you feel so warm and you felt happy despite him not having the slightest clue who you were. You always watched him from afar, peering at him as he walked into the classroom while waving at all of his friends before taking a seat at the back.

By some chance, you got paired with him for an assignment. You thought he would be disappointed, since he had never spoken to you, but contrary to his somewhat intimidating aura as a result of him being a popular kid, he smiled warmly at you as you introduced yourself.

"I know you're [y/n]," he said quietly, looking down at the assignment instructions in front of him.

"How do you know?" you asked him.

He looked up and leaned in closer to you to whisper into your ear, only after being sure that no one was watching.

"It may not seem like it, but I do know my classmates."

When he moved back, he flashed you a grin before returning to the assignment instructions again. Your heartbeat was flooding your ears.

After meeting up several times to do the research and plan out the presentation together, you and Yedam somehow grew closer. You had always thought he was some sort of chic, cool guy, but he turned out to be super soft and sweet. The two of you laughed at each other's dumb jokes and procrastinated late into the night sometimes, only beginning your work when the café was about to close.

On one of those days, Yedam asked if you wanted to go to his place to finish the assignment.

"It's due in two weeks and we still have so much to do... plus we're so busy that we can only meet once a week," he explained, pouting slightly.

You agreed, feeling somewhat nervous and excited at the prospect of going to your crush's house for the first time.

His parents were home but asleep as it was late for them, so the two of you quietly went to his room.

In-between muffled giggles and late-night snacks, the two of you managed to get a lot of work done before you felt as though you'd hit your limit. After yawning and stretching, you told Yedam that it was time you went home.

"Do you live far from here?" he asked you.

You, in fact, did live quite far from his house, but you felt bad telling him this, so you lied and told him you lived close by.

He pouted and looked down.

"I was going to ask if you wanted to just sleep here... but I guess it makes sense for you to go home," he said, helping you pack up your things.

Yedam... wanted you to stay the night? How could you miss such an opportunity! Your crush! Wanted you to stay the night!!

Yedam noticed that you'd stopped moving, holding your pencil case in your hand as you thought about what to say.

"Is everything okay?" he asked you.

"Yeah... I actually... live kind of far," you mumbled, not wanting him to get mad at you for lying.

"You do? Then why did you say you live close by?" he asked, also taking his hands away from your backpack.

"I didn't want you to walk me home or anything," you explained. Yedam smiled at you, shaking his head.

"Don't worry about it now... do you have any clothes to change into?"

"Just my gym clothes... but they're dirty," you told him, shyly.

"Do you want to take something of mine to wear?" he asked you, already standing up to look through his closet without waiting for your answer.

You were going to say no, again, not wanting to bother him, but he had already pulled out some of his comfier clothes for you to wear.

After changing into them and walking back into his room, you avoided Yedam's eyes as he quietly lost his mind over how cute you looked.

"Um, so..." Yedam started, scratching the back of his neck.

"Would you be okay with sleeping in my bed? I'll go sleep in the livingroom-"

"No, no! I'll go sleep there-"

"No, I can't let a guest sleep on the couch!"

Both of you sighed, not being able to win against one another.

"Listen, it's either you sleep in my room and I go to the livingroom, or we both sleep in my bed," he said, pointing to his bed behind you.

You froze, trying to consider your options as your heartbeat grew louder.

"Well... I guess we're both sleeping here then," you said, in a tone that tried to sound confident but was a little shaky.

You plopped yourself face first into the bed to hide from your embarrassment, feeling the bed shift a few seconds later as Yedam joined you.

"Scooch over towards the wall. I'll sleep on this side so you won't fall off the bed at night," he said, pointing to the side of his bed that faced the rest of his room. You smiled at Yedam's kind gesture as you moved over.

He had turned off the light and it was dark now, and both of you lay side-by-side on your backs, staring up at the ceiling.

"Are you... asleep?" he asked you quietly a while later. You shook your head at first, but then realized he couldn't see you. So you said a quiet "no".

You felt Yedam shift as he turned to face you. You carefully turned your head towards him too, wondering what he was up to. It was hard to see in the dark, but he was just admiring your face. You looked away, feeling embarrassed, until you felt him shuffling closer to you.

It was a little nerve-wracking watching his figure tower over you in the dark. Blinking up at him, you parted your lips to ask him what he was doing, but he spoke first.

"Am I allowed to... kiss you?" he asked, quietly looking down at you.

Yedam... wants to ???? Your crush wanted-

You found yourself nodding before your thoughts could entirely be processed, and watched as Yedam lowered himself onto you with a small smile. His heart soared as he watched your reaction -- your eyes were squeezed shut so tightly out of nervousness.

Before his soft lips met yours, he found your hand under the blankets and held it in an attempt to ease you of your nervousness. He didn't know that it only made your stomach feel the effects even more intensely.

Your lips touched for only a moment, but it felt like a whole eternity. When he pulled away, he moved off of you quickly and shuffled over to his side of the bed again.

"I'm sorry.. I'm so sorry," he mumbled, looking away from you. You were confused.

"What's wrong?" you asked him.

"I... I was supposed to tell you I like you first but then now you're right beside me--wait not that I like you... wait I mean I do, but I didn't want to tell you like this--"

Hearing his unsure confession was all the confidence you needed to pull him closer, accidentally tightening his hoodie strings as you pulled him in to carefully press your lips against his again. He completely melted into your hands, then, wrapping an arm around your back and holding you close.

That was probably one of the last good memories you have of him.

After that, Yedam turned into a different person the next morning, avoiding your eyes and missing any trace of a smile on his face as he pushed a plate of breakfast towards you.

"Let's not walk to school together, okay? I'll be leaving first," he told you, leaving you alone in his own house.

You had no clue what was going on and no appetite to eat. After waiting a few minutes, you walked to school after him. You had no idea how to even get to school from his house, so after getting lost and arriving late, you finally managed to make it.

When you tried to approach him in class, he would turn his back on you and ignore you. It made you feel so small that you stopped even trying.

It was really hard for you to show up to school after that, because of how terrible you felt, but you still tried your best. Your friends knew something was wrong and they did their best to help you, but it didn't stop you from thinking about Yedam and why he was acting so strangely.

Until he texted you one day in the middle of class, asking you to meet him in an empty classroom.

You told yourself you shouldn't pay him any attention, especially after he ghosted you like that, but you still followed after him, curious to see what excuse he would give you.

In the classroom, you couldn't see anyone, so you thought Yedam hadn't arrived yet until you heard him call out your name from behind a file cabinet. By the windows.

"Come here, [y/n]," he said, motioning for you to approach him. He was smiling at you again, just like he did on those days when you'd study with him in the café. You told yourself to just turn around and leave, but your feet guided you to him.

You frowned up at him.

"What the heck have you been doing?" you asked him, tears already threatening to leave your eyes.

"[y/n], I-I'm sorry... you know how it is for me, with my popular reputation. Some kids saw us at the café and posted pictures of us, saying that I was going around dating a loser-"

He was holding onto your hands while wearing a pitiful expression, but you coldly pushed him away after hearing him out.

"So you've been acting weird because I'm tainting your reputation? Yedam, we never even dated! You gave me some... half-assed confession and... kissed me in the middle of the night and then ghosted me," you told him, sternly.

"I know, I'm sorry... It's so pathetic but I really do like you... I'm just really bad at this, I know, but I'm telling you now I like you-"

"In an empty classroom. Behind a file cabinet."

"Please, [y/n]. Date me for real... I promise I won't let you down."

You and your kind, innocent heart believed his promise. You believed him because his eyes were sparkling and he was holding onto you so tightly.

Yedam told you that you had to date him in secret, and that was just one of many red flags. He explained that if his friends found out, he would be teased and you would be hurt by their words, too. Nonetheless, you agreed. At school, you never spoke to him. All you got were stolen glances, Yedam winking at you every time you turned around in your seat. Somehow, that was enough to make your heart flutter.

You could only see each other in each other's homes, since even the risk of being caught out on a date was too much for Yedam to handle. The two of you would intertwine hands while watching a movie. You'd rest your head on Yedam's shoulder, or sometimes he would rest his head in your lap and you would gently stroke his hair, watching as his eyes squeezed shut tightly while he indulged in the feeling of your love.

Sometimes the two of you would listen to music together, quietly sharing earphones while staring out the window.

Sometimes you would just talk for hours into the night.

Yedam's smile would never leave his face when he was with you.

Except for when he was at school.

And you could handle it. At least you thought you could, until the final straw.

For Yedam's birthday, a few of his friends had gathered in his home, celebrating. You were also invited, of course, after you begged Yedam to let you come. He had told his friends that he invited you as a gesture of thanks for working on the assignment with him... it broke your heart to hear this lie, but you shrugged it off, again.

Everyone was feeling excited as they all started a game of spin-the-bottle. You felt incredibly out of place and already angry, even more so upon seeing a girl getting all handsy with Yedam, stroking his thigh with her hand and playing with his hair. She was constantly glued to him, but you shrugged it off, again.

After the bottle's mouth faced Yedam, the girl beside him dared him to kiss someone. How childish, you thought to yourself. You watched as Yedam locked eyes with you and started to stand up, making his way towards you with a small smile, but the girl beside him stopped him.

"Where are you going, damie? Isn't it me who you should kiss?"

Yedam looked back at her and then at you.

"I-"

"C'mon, it's your birthday!" she said, dragging him back down.

That literally is not an excuse and makes no sense, you scoffed to yourself, rolling your eyes.

The next few moments were a blur, but Yedam ended up kissing her and you felt like a piece of paper being torn in two. We can't even look at each other in public, you thought to yourself. You fought back tears and got up to leave. No one seemed to mind or care about where you were going, since none of these people were your friends anyway. Even Yedam was preoccupied, his lips on the mouth of this other girl.

You couldn't just shrug things off anymore. This was it. Now, it was your turn to ghost Yedam.

You hadn't told him, but your family were planning to move to another city soon. You told them to plan the move for earlier so you could leave that dreaded place and leave Yedam. Ignoring all his calls and texts, you transferred out the next week, and that was that.

I'm gonna break down these walls, I built around myself. I wanna fall so in love, with you, and no one else, Could ever mean half as much, to me as you do now. Together we'll move on, just don't turn around, Let the walls break down.

You can't focus in lecture as everything that happened with Yedam flashes before your eyes. Just as you're starting to live a normal life without him, he has to show up and allow of the trauma to resurface.

As soon as your class ends, you quickly pack your bags. Your friend does the same, understanding exactly what is going on. But it seems like Yedam and his feet move a little faster.

Just as you're about to leave your row, you look up to find Yedam standing at the end of it, a small smile on his face.

You sigh and turn around, telling your friend to do the same so you can leave through the other side. But Yedam just follows behind you quietly. He doesn't say a word and just follows you as you and your friend as you leave the lecture hall to go to your next class.

Suddenly, you stop. Your friend and Yedam stop, too.

You turn around, your fist clenched into a tight ball.

"Yedam, can you please stop following me? Do you not have classes of your own or things to do? Please leave me alone," you told him, turning your back on him again and walking forward.

Your friend didn't follow you, though, but looked back and forth between you and Yedam. So lost in your thoughts, you walk to class on your own, not noticing that your friend isn't following you.

Yedam's pov

After they say those words and leave, I feel my heart breaking in two. Of course I know how much I've hurt [y/n], but their words make me realize that I'll never be able to completely understand. I almost start crying right there and then...

"Yedam, right?" their friend asks me. I look at them and nod, confused.

"Listen, [y/n] hates your guts. They're not going to talk to you and hear you out, so I'll do it instead. I know [y/n] might regret it if they don't hear you out, even if they don't want to."

I smile at [y/n]'s friend. That sounds exactly like [y/n]...

"You've probably heard a lot of awful things about me, and it's all true. But... [y/n] probably didn't tell you about those nights we spent in each other's rooms... the times that we did get to spend with each other alone.... sorry, what I'm trying to say is that I've always loved [y/n]. Not even 'like', but I've always loved them. And I don't think I'll be able to stop... I know I was such a terrible boyfriend back then. I don't think I can say I even was much of a boyfriend... but I've changed. I can promise that I've changed. I know it must be so arrogant of me to ask if they'll give me another chance but..."

I trail off, my brain shutting down as I struggle to find anymore words to express myself. [y/n]'s friend nods after I trail off.

"I see... well, I've heard about your promises. I heard they couldn't be trusted but if you've changed, then maybe that has changed, too. [y/n] has a really kind heart, but I won't let them date a jerk ever again. So unless we both know for sure that you're different now, we are not letting you date them."

With that, [y/n]'s friend walks away and leaves me there.

[y/n]'s pov

In class, you feel completely empty, unsure of how to feel. You only notice that your friend had not been beside you this entire time when they take a seat in the spot beside you, apologizing that they're late.

"Where were you?" you ask them, looking up as they sit down.

"I was talking to Yedam," your friend tells you, never one to lie.

Your face fills with disgust at the mention of his name.

"Why would you do that?" you whisper loudly, causing some heads in the lecture hall to turn your way. You mumble an apology before returning to your friend.

"I wanted to hear him out," they say, casually opening up their notes.

"What did he say?"

"So you are interested, huh?" they ask you, teasing.

"No, I'm not!"

"I know, calm down! He just said something along the lines of how he's always loved you and does now, too, and that he's changed--"

"That is the most garbage thing I've ever heard," you say, interrupting your friend with a scoff. They smile, shaking their head at you.

When you return to your dorm after all your classes, you find a small gift bag hanging on the door knob to your room. Curious, you pick it up and notice it has your name written on the side.

You could recognize that handwriting from a mile away.

As if it's the side of a hot pan, you drop it, watching its contents spill to the ground. A pack of your favourite snack falls out, along with a neatly handwritten note, a CD player and earphones.

I guess it wouldn't hurt to look, you tell yourself.

Picking everything up and walking into your room, you sit on your bed and read the note over.

[y/n]!! ah, it doesn't make sense for me to be cute or excited in this note, does it? >.< please forgive me.... i'm a little nervous... here is that snack that you've always loved... do you still love it now, too? and here is something that i wrote for you~it's on the CD. just press play and i'll let the song do the talking... i wrote this after you disappeared.

- yedam

This song better be god tier if he's coming to leave it at my door, you think to yourself.

As the song fills your ears, it seems to fill your empty heart too. You can tell it's full of Yedam's sincere feelings and thoughts... or he's just doing a good job of acting while singing. You can't seem to tell, but you still tear up a little.

You hear the door to your room swing open, as your friend, who also happens to be your roommate, barges in.

"What are you up to?" they ask, placing some things on their desk. They turn around immediately when they hear you sniffling.

"ARE YOU CRYING?" they shout, sitting beside you and wrapping their arms around you.

"This... song... Yedam..." you croak, just handing them the earphones.

When they listen to it, they also go quiet.

"It sounds really sincere..." your friend tells you, quietly.

"I'm not the only one who feels that way?" you ask your friend, looking at them.

"You know him better than I do, so you're probably right," they tell you, standing up.

"Why did this boy have to show up and make a mess of my life again," you groan, hiding your face in your hands.

"Well, I have just the solution! I know you're probably going to think about him and not get any work done anyway, so should we just go to a party?!" your friend tells you, jumping up and down.

"A party?" you wrinkle your nose in disgust.

"It'll help you stop thinking about him! Please, we never went to any parties last year!! Let's go, just this once!" they beg.

After thinking it over, you agree. What's the worst that could happen?

Wearing one of your favourite fits and feeling good, you walk alongside your friend, who already has a groove in their step as the two of you make your way to the house where the party is set to be held. It isn't that hard to find, since you're just following the bright lights and loud music in the distance. It's a wonder the people in that house aren't being arrested for causing such a ruckus...

Finally there, you step inside and try not to bump into any weird people. The music is so loud its deafening, and you shrivel up at the sound of it. Your friend wraps their arm around you, pulling you in close and guiding you to the snack/drink area so you can take what you need and go to a quieter place.

Your friend did beg you to come today, so they won't force you to dance or do any things you don't want to do...

Now equipped with everything you need, you make your way to the basement, where it's a lot quieter despite being so busy.

"How's this for a change?" your friend asks you, grooving along to the distant sound of the music from upstairs.

"It seems like you want to dance," you tell your friend.

They shake their head.

"I'll stay with you toniiiiiight!" they cheer, hugging you tightly. You laugh.

"It's fine, just go up! The crowd doesn't seem too scary or weird down here," you tell them as you watch two people play mario kart in front of a TV.

After asking you 1000 times if it's really okay, they leave you there with a drink in your hand. You continue watching the two people playing mario kart, secretly rooting for the boy in orange because his fit looks really nice, even if you're only looking from the back.

He ends up losing and you let out a "noooo!" loud enough for the two to hear. When they turn around, you discover that the boy in orange had been Yedam all along!

I take back rooting for him... he deserved to lose!

Widening your eyes at the sight of him, you quickly turn away and try to navigate your way towards another room. To your surprise, as soon as you walk in, Yedam is in there, holding the door open at the other end and panting.

"[y/n]," he calls out softly, smiling slightly. You can tell he's testing the waters and wondering how to react.

You try to walk out of the room, but the door behind you has been shut by some drunken idiot! He's pressed up against the frame and no matter how much you push, the door just won't open.

"[y/n], if you want to leave, it's okay. I don't want to bother you," Yedam tells you, stepping aside from the other door and motioning for you to walk through.

You sigh.

"No, it's fine. I guess we're here for a reason now, or something," you mumble, sliding down the wall until you're in a comfortable sitting position.

Yedam smiles, closing the door behind him.

"Still caught up in all that destiny stuff?" he asks you, joining you in sitting on the ground but also keeping his distance.

You scoff in response. How does this kid remember everything about me?

"So... what are you doing in my house?' he asks you.

"Your.... house?"

"Yeah, this is my house. You didn't know?" he asks you, looking bewildered.

You think about your friend. They must have brought you here while knowing it was Yedam's house...

"Um... nevermind that. How... have you been?" Yedam asks you, wringing his hands.

"Me? I've been doing great until now. How about you?" you spit out your words sarcastically, but Yedam doesn't seem to mind.

"I've been... well... I'm not sure. It would be cheesy for me to say I've been feeling lost without you, but that's kind of how it is," he tells you, chuckling nervously.

"Yeah, super cheesy. It also doesn't make sense, Yedam," you tell him, avoiding his eyes.

"I know it doesn't, but to me it does. I know our relationship was a mess, but those times that we spent together were... something else. Probably some of the best times of my life, honestly," he tells you.

"And why... are you telling me this?" you ask him, curious to see how he'll respond.

"Because I know I'm in the wrong and there's no excuse for my past childishness, but... I've missed you. And I still do. I know I was really caught up in my reputation back then and I didn't open myself up to you properly, but I want to do that now."

He runs his fingers through his hair, and something inside you turns. You didn't realize just how much you loved it when Yedam did that until now... he looks so pretty--

No. What are you thinking?!

"I haven't missed you though, Yedam," you say.

He smiles sadly.

"I know. And there's no reason for you to. But I'm just... asking for a second chance in case you think there's anything left."

You gulp and look up at the ceiling. You hadn't even considered the possibility of dating Yedam again, but talking with him now is different. He's less cautious and seems to be a lot more comfortable with you.

Someone knocks on the door behind Yedam and Yedam tells them to come in.

"Oh, am I interrupting?" the boy asks, slowly backing away.

"It's fine, I'm just talking to [y/n]," Yedam says with a smile, gesturing towards you. You greet the boy and his eyes light up.

"[y/n]?! The one you always tell me about? Gosh... it's so nice to meet you!" the boy says, shaking your hand and sitting down in front of you.

"You put up with a lot of Yedam's antics, I've heard," he says, laughing. Yedam laughs along, but you're still in shock.

Yedam had never told anyone about you... but now this random boy knows everything?

"It was more than antics. I was... really bad to [y/n]. I'm surprised they haven't left yet," Yedam admits, leaning back.

"I transferred to your old high school after you transferred out, and this boy was always sad. He didn't talk to anyone but me, only because the teacher asked him to show me around. He told me everything about you and eventually told the rest of his friends, too. You were his biggest and only heartbreak... I swear everyone at our school knows about you," the boy explains.

"What did you tell them?" you ask Yedam.

"He told us how he had been dating you in secret because he was afraid to ruin his popularity, but that he regrets it a lot. A lot of his friends left him after finding out you dated Yedam," the boy explains. Yedam nods along.

You're in shock. The boy who was so secretive and insecure exposed himself as a heartbreaker?

"Anyways, I'm sorry to be interrupting. I'll leave now!" the boy says, standing up and closing the door behind him.

"You... told everyone?" you ask Yedam. He nods.

"I feel like it was the only thing I could do for you. You deserved to be known as the one who held my heart," he says, holding his chest and laughing at his own cheesy words.

You find yourself laughing along and loosening up.

A moment of silence stretches between the two of you, and Yedam breaks it by standing up.

"Do you wanna play mario kart with me? You seemed to be having fun watching," Yedam asks you quietly.

You nod, also standing up.

The two of you play for about an hour, screaming and yelling at the TV just like you used to in your bedroom when you'd play games together.

"I won!" you declare in glee, turning to Yedam to do your signature high five with him. His hands meet yours, and you only realize what you're doing only after its already happened. You awkwardly move your hands away, facing the screen again.

"I'm sorry..." you mumble.

"No, I'm sorry! It's really okay, [y/n]... if you feel uncomfortable around me, you don't have to--"

"Your song touched me a lot, Yedam. And now I feel like... I want to try again. Just like this game," you say, pointing to the screen that has try again written in the corner.

"Are you sure?" he asks you, slowly.

You nod, deciding you've made up your mind. You've seen a lot of green flags already -- enough to decide that it's okay to move forward.

Yedam smiles and looks down at his lap. Then his head lifts up quickly, his eyes lighting up.

"I can take you to that café you always wanted to go! They have one in this city... and there's a museum next to it too! Do you want to go there? I.."

As he continues talking, you realize that all of the things he's saying he wants to do were things that you never did with Yedam, even after one year of dating him. It was always stay-at-home dates and ignore-each-other-when-we're-at-school. Somehow, you feel excited, wondering what things will be like.

"[y/n]! I've been looking everywhere for--oh, Yedam? Hi!" your friend greets you both.

"Did you have fun dancing?" you ask them. They nod, pointing to Yedam with their eyes.

You get up and whisper into your friend's ear.

"We have a lot to talk about, but I think..."

Your friend doesn't even wait for you to finish before they say, "well, I have to leave early now. Yedam, can you walk [y/n] home? Great, thanks!"

With that, they disappear and you shake your head at your friend's strange behaviour.

Yedam is all smiley while still sitting on the ground.

"Do I get to walk you home now?" he asks you, standing up.

"I wonder what would've happened if you walked me home that day, too..." you mumble, thinking about the day you slept over at Yedam's in the same bed as him.

"What, do you want to sleep over today, too?" he asks you.

You shake your head.

"I don't want things to turn out like that again."

"You mean, you don't want me to kiss you like I did then?" Yedam teases you, sending you a wink.

"You--shut up!" you yell, chasing after him with a pillow.

This boy literally broke my heart, you think to yourself. He is testing his limits...

After you both calm down, Yedam walks you home. It's a little quiet at first, until Yedam speaks.

"Can... I hold your hand?" he asks you.

"This soon?" you say, still grabbing his hand anyway. He looks down at your hand in his and smiles.

"Yeah... you don't know how long I've been wanting to do this for," he admits, swinging your arm up and down as you walk.

You shake your head at him.

"Let's run!" Yedam declares, racing forward with your hand in his. You trail behind him, the sound of laughter escaping your lips and ringing in Yedam's ears. It leaves a bright blush on his face as he thinks to himself about how much he's missed your laughter.

The two of you slow down, panting.

"I'm so tired," Yedam wheezes, laughing at how weird he sounds.

"Do you want me to kiss it better?" you tease him. He raises his eyebrows at the comment. Maybe it's the adrenaline from all the running or the feeling of the night air, but a courage surges through you as you snake your hand around the back of his head and pull him towards you, pressing his warm lips to yours.

You pull away shortly after, feeling breathless again. A blush dusts Yedam's cheeks as he stares at you with wide eyes.

Your own stomach is full of butterflies, but you ignore it and walk forward.

"Are you not coming?" you yell to the boy behind you. He laughs and chases after you.

[a/n]: i just want to say that i do not condone getting back together with a toxic ex so soon... i was just really excited while writing and sped up the plot >.< but don't ever get back with someone who has hurt you unless you are 100% sure! please take care of yourself!!

191 notes · View notes

fursasaida · 4 years ago

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Do you have any advice for someone who loves learning and reading about all kinds of stuff but isn't academically trained to understand lots of things? Tbh, I'm curious about everything but I feel stupid when I read things I don't understand right away. It's like I lack critical thinking which makes me endlessly sad because that's something I'd like to develop but idk how. It feels like I passively absorb info, and even the things I understand, I tend to forget or don't know how to articulate :(

I think it would help if I had a concrete example or some more details about what exactly you’re struggling with, but I can offer some general thoughts. (I’m procrastinating on some research by answering this, so it got long. If anything needs clarifying, feel free to come back and let me know.)

“I feel stupid when I read things I don’t understand right away.”

I think it’s very important to understand that being smart or being stupid are phrases so broad they barely mean anything. Understanding a text right away means you have certain skills and knowledge that enable you to do that. It says nothing about your potential to develop those skills and that knowledge base. I am very good at understanding texts, which means people say that I am “smart” because that skill is valued in a particular way. If you asked me to plow a field I would suddenly be “too stupid” to do it, because I do not have the skills and knowledge. But I could learn them!

And for that matter, even if you never become someone who “gets” texts right away, so what? A lot of people could stand to slow down, if you ask me.

This brings me directly to:

“It’s like I lack critical thinking”

That feeling of running into a wall is actually one of the best tools you could have for thinking critically. Many, many, many people who easily understand academic/analytical writing fail to question what they read, precisely because they can just sort of gulp it down. If you are getting snagged on what someone is saying, it’s not because you are incapable of grasping the Expert Truth they are conveying; it’s because on some level you disagree, or don’t share the worldview that underlies their thinking. (Or also, and this option is not always given enough credence, because they’re a bad writer. [Coughs in Donna Haraway’s direction])

This is true even, or especially, if what’s snagging you is that you don’t understand what they’re saying. This is because in their writing they have assumed their readers share a lot of contextual knowledge and assumptions. That’s not bad in itself; if everybody stopped to fully explain every single term, connection, and assertion in everything they wrote, shit would be impossible. But I want to emphasize that if you happen to fall outside the bounds of those assumptions, it not only does not mean you are stupid, it means you are especially well equipped to question and criticize them--so long as you do the work to understand them, in good faith.

(I add that last corollary because there is a problem where people don’t bother to understand where things are coming from before attacking them, and that’s not useful to anyone. But clearly you are not one of these people. I’d like to encourage you to consider these “I don’t get it” moments not as reasons to give up but as a genuinely good starting point for developing the critical skills you so badly want to have.)

An author makes a statement. The statement doesn’t make sense to you. Why not? Are there words you don’t know? Look them up. Look up their etymology, or examples of their being used in sentences, if you need more than the definition is giving you. Is it the content of the statement itself? Then clearly the author and you are coming at whatever the subject is with different background information and assumptions. (This is still true if it’s a subject you know nothing about! That’s a prime example of coming at it with different assumptions. The author assumes a lot of things about the world that you don’t, because you haven’t learned them.) The important question is not What’s wrong with me that I don’t share this author’s assumptions? Rather, the question is Can I figure out what is behind this author’s statement? And once you arrive at some idea about the answer to that, the task is not necessarily to bring yourself into agreement with it, but to decide whether you think it makes sense or not.

This is where an example would be helpful, because “figure out what the underlying assumptions are” is very vague and I’m sure you’re sitting here like, “Oh, sure, just like that.” So, to start with: The things that pull you up short are the things you should ask questions about. What is it in my understanding of the world that makes this statement not make sense? (One way to look at this is: is there a different but related statement that does make sense to me? What’s different between the two, and why does it make such a difference to me?) What would I have to believe, or assume, for the statement to make sense to me? Why did this person mention this example and not those, and can I interpret this choice as something that makes sense to me? Or as a clue that reveals something about where this text is coming from?

And to be clear, when I say “underlying assumptions,” I don’t mean that this only/always means sussing out bias or prejudice in the usual way those words are used. I also mean the things that author learned in their field before writing the text, which you have not. Like, a lot of what I write now depends on the assumption that there is a difference between “absolute space” and “place.” You might have to read up on that a bit to know what I’m saying at a given moment because you aren’t specialized in what I’m specialized in. You might then decide you think this distinction is bollocks! Reading up on it isn’t necessarily just to get you to agree with me. It’s to get you to where you can make an informed decision about agreeing or not.

Often the biggest assumptions lie in the simplest statements. I’m reading about the Cold War a lot right now. If someone says, for example, “The Cold War was the dominant structure of international politics between 1945 and 1989,” this seems very obvious and straightforward. It’s a basic statement of what most people mean when they refer to “the Cold War” at all. It’s “a historical fact,” a piece of information for those interested in history to “absorb.” But there are a lot of questions worth asking about this! Are we sure there was only one, singular (“the”) Cold War? Was it really “the dominant structure” for everyone, everywhere, that whole time? What is a “structure” and what makes one “dominant”? Are we completely sure about those start and end dates, and do they apply everywhere?

Now one can imagine that if I were to ask all these questions of someone who referred to the Cold War this way in a dinner conversation or something, I might appear very ignorant--or “stupid.” But being critical means not accepting things at face value. I may know perfectly well exactly what this person is referring to, but if I want to question the assumptions built into that reference, I have to ask about things that are “obvious” or “well known.”

The good news is that when you’re reading a text, you don’t have to worry about other people at the table judging you. It sounds like right now you are doing that to yourself, and I would very much like to encourage you not to. Having “dumb” questions is being critical. The only difference between “I don’t understand this sentence about the Cold War” and “I have a critique of this sentence about the Cold War” is that in the first case, I have questions about the sentence; in the second case, I have developed answers to my own questions about the sentence. But both of them involve looking at the sentence and saying “this doesn’t add up to me.”

Criticism is a process. Developing expertise does mean getting to a point that you don’t need to do extensive research every time you read or criticize something, but there will always be new things you don’t understand and have to put in the work to be able to critique. The vast majority of ~inspiration~ among academics, if you read/listen to them talking about their research projects, comes out of bumping up against something they don’t understand and just not being satisfied until they could account for it. That could be anything from the way the word “democracy” was used in the Iran-Contra hearings to the everyday social fact that women are routinely expected to have longer hair than men in much of the United States.

So. You are actually in a great place to get better at this, because everybody who is seriously and honestly trying to be critical has to start from making the obvious not-obvious--from not understanding something.

That brings me to the last thing I want to address:

“It feels like I passively absorb info, and even the things I understand, I tend to forget or don't know how to articulate.”

Criticism, or just--learning--isn’t just a process; as what I was saying about academics above already suggests, it’s a project. This is not only true of academics. Plenty of people who aren’t academics do research or study things on their own just because they’re interested. But the kernel of that interest is a desire to understand something, whether it’s for a practical purpose or not. Maybe you’re teaching yourself to sew and having a lot of trouble with a particular stitch, and you want to figure out if that stitch is standard because it’s actually the most functional or if there’s some other reason, which would mean you could use something different. Or maybe you just really want to know what’s up with sea turtles. Either way, there is something you want.

I think if you identify specific questions about or interests in the world and pursue those, you will have an easier time building these skills and retaining information. (This doesn’t mean you have to give up your general curiosity! Just that at any given time, you are focusing on a few specific things.) Information sticks with us because it’s useful somehow. If your goal isn’t just “know things” but “figure out this thing, specifically” then information about that thing has an actual use for you. So think about something that you’ve had a lot of trouble understanding and that you want to understand--not because you feel like you’re supposed to, or because you feel ashamed that you don’t, but because you want answers to your questions. Your project is now satisfying that curiosity.

I find the more I think about a question I have, the more I start to see information that’s applicable to it popping out of the world all around me, everywhere, even when I’m not actively “working on it.” And I remember those things because they are not just “information.” They are of significance to something I am trying to do, which is answer the question. And that question is not assigned to me by anyone else, not even the author of a text I don’t understand. I can only assign it to myself (I have to want to understand that text!).

And you can support this with the way you read! Reading is interactive (yes, even when it’s just you and a page and you’re not making any noise). The more you approach it that way, the more you will retain of what you read--even if you end up disagreeing with it--because you are not trying to be a container for information to fill, which is absolutely bound to leak. Instead you are looking for things that are useful to you, which may or may not be findable in the text you are currently reading. You are not a receiver. You are a spelunker.

So what does it mean to read interactively? It can mean almost anything. For people like me, it often means a lot of making notes, annotations, and so on (the physical act of annotating a text does a lot to help me retain things, for example). I have files upon files of notes and quotes and outlines from different research projects. I write out paragraphs of musings to try to articulate how my questions are shifting as I learn, or what exactly the thing I’m struggling with is. (You mentioned struggling to articulate; writing things out for yourself is one way to practice at this. So is bouncing things off a friend, which I also do a lot.) But it doesn’t have to look like this.

If you are pursuing an interest, then ultimately what you’re doing ought to be pleasurable. (I don’t mean that it should make you jump for joy every second, but the feeling of making progress toward a goal, even if a particular step is unpleasant, is still pleasurable.) If “taking notes” for you looks like drawing, then great. I once outlined a paper by drawing it as a floor plan for a two-story house. I make research playlists that I consider to be functionally identical to syllabi. I have tagged collections on this tumblr that represent some of my thinking through one set of questions or another. What I’m trying to get at is that in working to answer your own questions, you are not just abstractly trying to “understand” something, which miraculously happens or doesn’t depending on whether your mind is ~good enough~ to receive the Content. You are interacting with statements, pieces of information, images, texts, etc., which you are collecting and arranging and rearranging in order to try to reach a place where you’re satisfied. All of that is part of the process of “understanding,” and if you’re genuinely interested in that process, then the work involved shouldn’t feel like homework. So the literal things you do as part of it don’t have to be similar to schoolwork, if those kinds of things are boring or painful or just unhelpful to you. Do whatever! You’re in charge!

So, to summarize all of this: I think the first thing you need to do is think of yourself not as ignorant, stupid, or uneducated, but as someone who is actively wanting and trying to engage and learn about the world. This is admirable! This is exciting! Thus your goal is not to “absorb” information to make up some deficit, or to become some other, “smarter” person who would understand things the first time you look at them. Your goal is simply to answer your own questions about the world. From that point of view, not-understanding is not a problem. It’s necessary. It’s where the questions come from. If you have to answer a lot of sub-questions along the way--if it takes you weeks to really get what a single essay is saying--this does not say anything bad about you. It just means you’re doing the damn thing. But in order to succeed at it, you do need to have some motivation; it needs to mean something to you. (One of the biggest tricks the devil ever pulled was the idea that inquiry could ever possibly be impersonal.) And whatever that personal meaning is is good enough, I promise.

#how 2 b alive #i guess #anonymous

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younghosbitch · 5 years ago

Text

relax-taeyong x reader

college au || fluff || warnings: very slight mention of smut (memory)

note: there is a moment where the reader is getring their hair brushed. i tried to make it as hair-type inclusive as possible, so excuse the lack of detail

1.16k words

10:47 p.m

you were never one to procrastinate. this isn't to say you were always at the top of your game when it came to academics, but you usually weren't this bad. your best friend, yuta, liked to teasingly blame this new unorganized side of you on your boyfriend, taeyong.

at first, you figured this couldn't be farther from the truth, but when you thought about it, spending time with him had ended up an accidental priority over school work, and now you were sitting in your desk chair, slumped over your slowly dimming laptop in exhaustion, having just turned in your essay, along with multiple other important projects you didn't realize were due so soon.

"and an hour to spare," you heaved, "look at that," you slowly lifted your head from the keyboard of the laptop to shut it, painfully slowly, might i add. if you were being honest, if you weren't a coffee person, you probably wouldn't be able to make it to class tomorrow.

leaning your head back in your chair, your eyes began to slowly flutter shut, before you were interrupted by none other than the culprit behind your scram to finish bursting into your dorm room. before you even recognized who the loud figure was, you began groaning in protest, the loudness of their questioning voice doing no favors for the already pounding headache you'd developed half-way through your rushed essay writing.

you could hear taeyong slowly silence himself as he noticed your obvious discomfort. you mimicked this, slowing your groaning into silent, slightly parted lips. "baby? you okay?" you heard him ask, and you couldn't help but find the remark humorous in your state of despair.

"yeah, i haven't slept in over twenty hours, i'm not proud of any of the work i just turned in, and i have a god-awful headache. i'm absolutely peachy," you spit out quickly. you didn't realize how rude the words sounded until they'd already come out of your mouth, but taeyong payed no mind.

you heard nothing but silence, and assuming you'd upset him, you un-bent your neck to look at him, and as you opened your mouth to apologize, you could feel taeyong pulling your rolly-chair backwards towards your bed. you heard him sit down on your sheets behind you before feeling his hands find their place in your scalp.

surprised at the sudden relaxing feeling, you let out somewhat of a moan, gripping the arms of your chair ever so slightly as your boyfriend ran his fingers through your hair. he laughed at your enthusiastic response, asking you "feel good, babe?" teasingly. normally, you'd tease back, but if getting this treatment meant having him make fun of you, he could say what he liked for all you cared.

you thought for a moment that you could stay like this forever, however unrealistic the notion may have been. his strong yet gentle hands doing their magic on the top of your tired head made the whole rush to finish your work worth it, and if this was your reward, you'd happily procrastinate again and again.

suddenly, the massaging warmth of his fingers left your scalp. "what gives?" you pouted, watching him make his way to your drawers and pulling out one of his sweatshirts you'd stolen at some point along with a matching pair of stolen sweatpants. setting the outfit on your bed, he lifted you skillfuly from your chair before sitting you down next to the clothes. "go take a hot shower," he told you "i'll wait here. i'm gonna take care of you for tonight, angel, okay? you've worked so hard today," the honey smoothness to his words made you want to melt, so you couldn't help but comply as you stood with the clothes before making your way to the dorm showers.

the hot water running down your back soothed your previously tensed muscles, a product of being practically hunched over your computer all day. you ran your hands over your chest absent-mindedly, wondering what taeyong could possibly do to take care of you, when you felt a slight ache as a finger pressed just barely too hard into your chest. looking down in curiosity, you noticed your breasts littered in purple and red marks. the night before came back to mind, and you sighed, shaking your head. one of the many reasons you had procrastinated so badly.

before you could get caught up in your memory too far, you noticed the water cooling down. had you really been in the shower that long? you decided before someone came to complain to you, that you might as well get out, dry yourself off and head back to your room, where taeyong was apparently waiting for you. on your way back, you couldn't help but wonder how he'd be 'taking care of you'.

"baby c'mere," taeyong said to you the moment you opened the door. he embraced you in a warm, much needed hug, before you remarked, "i could've been anybody, yongie," to which he just shrugged. he pulled you into his lap as he sat on your bed. "what do you use on your hair? i'm gonna brush it for you,"

you laughed lightly, reaching for the product sitring on your night stand. you poured the cold liquid into the out stretched hand of your loving boyfriend, and nearly melted at the feeling of his fingers back on your scalp mixed with the coolness of your hair product. his hands were soon replaced with your brush, causing you to shudder each time the bristles would make contact with your cranium.

once again, you considered staying in this spot forever, though the more you considered it, the more you realized how unkind that would be to taeyongs arms. his arms. they were so toned and strong, never once having squeezed you the wrong amount. however lovely his arms were, though,your thoughts were interupted by the lack of your hair being touched, taeyongs arms instead wrapping around your mid-section.

he nuzzled his nose into the crook of your neck. you giggled, the sensation tickling you as the boy mumbled something into your soft skin. "what was that, babe?" you asked, grabbing his hands and rubbing the backs of them with your thumbs gently. "are you relaxed, princess?" he repeated, and you couldn't help but smile. "yes i am. thank you," you told him. "you should get back to your dorm, angel, it's getting really late,"

you felt him shake his head against you from behind. "i'm gonna sleep with you tonight," he said, and you sighed, relaxing your whole body into his. this was so perfect. you turned your head to the side to face him, pressing a soft kiss to his soft lips. "thank you," you mumbled into the kiss. he only hummed before slowly laying you down on your bed, still kissing your tired frame.

"anytime, baby girl," he adjusts himself to lay next to you. "i love helping you relax,"

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