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heavenlycloud · 6 months

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arachnophobia~ spiderman au kim minji x fem! reader

˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚

authors note: i wrote this for @tzuyuscloud months ago for their birthday and never got around to posting it. i don't plan on writing for nwjns in the future tho, this was just a special request for a friend!

p.s. im sick rn and running on soda, pancakes, and cough syrup so i hope this makes sense cuz im a lil hopped up on stuff rn

tw// swearing, blood, violence

the clock tower across campus struck loudly across campus, indicating the top of the hour. you rolled your eyes at the sound and wished they’d only use it during daylight hours instead of when everyone was trying to sleep. diverting your attention back to your laptop, you added a few more sentences to the Literature paper you were writing before closing the top. it was deep into the night so you quickly washed up and changed into pajamas before heading off to bed since you had a morning class. an hour must have passed when you jumped upon hearing a loud thud followed by a crash of items clattering to the floor in the room nearest yours. quickly, you sprang up and tried to open your roommate’s door which was locked from the other side. for a moment it was silent which only made you frantically jiggle the doorknob harder in an attempt to help the girl on the other side. loudly, you called out, “minji?! are you good bro?” from the other side of the door you could hear her cussing rapidly in english and korean in a hushed whisper. after a moment she called out, voice slightly strained, “yeah uh i’m fine. i just knocked over some stuff on my nightstand. i’m fine though you can leave.” you furrowed your brows in confusion before awkwardly answering, “uh.. um okay yeah. goodnight, i’ll see you in class tomorrow morning.” right when you settled into bed you thought aloud to yourself, “what nightstand? we don’t even have those in our rooms?” however, you didn’t let yourself think too much of it and shrugged off the thought so you could go back to sleep.

˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚

the next morning you woke up and got dressed for class as you normally did but this morning minji wasn’t getting ready with you. instead of thinking too much of it, you told yourself she was probably sleeping in a few minutes longer. nine o’ clock rolled around and minji was still nowhere to be found so you went to her door and banged on it, LOUDLY. when there was still no answer you called out, “minji- bro come on we have our literature exam today! lets go!” for nearly two minutes you were calling out to her before you had to leave. minji wasn’t one to skip class so you just stuck with thinking maybe she got an earlier start and was already in class. the walk to the lecture hall was quieter than normal without minji by your side. your roommate’s daily spiel of gossip that she’d overheard from classmates was dearly missed at this early hour. the second you walked into your lecture hall, one of your other classmates, haewon, waved you over. she groaned and put down the book she was skimming in her hand, “god i can’t wait for this lesson to be over.” she pushed the text away from her in disgust, and you laughed, “well we have the exam today, and the paper due next class so it’ll be over soon!” she looked past you a bit then asked, “wait where’s minji?” you craned your neck and squinted to try and see if she was in the large lecture hall but she still hadn’t shown. with a shrug you responded, “i don’t know. i thought she was already here but i guess not.” haewon pulled out her phone and frowned, “she hasn’t texted me either…” before the two of you could do anything else, your professor entered the classroom with a thick packet of exams. your stomach wound itself into knots at the realization that minji would be missing this exam. she had already missed class six times this semester, so this absence would be the one to make a failing grade for the semester. when your professor got to your row with the exams in hand, she looked at the empty seat next to you with a face of disapproval. you awkwardly gave a weak smile and passed the packets down your row before starting on your own test.

half an hour passed leaving 45 minutes left in the class before you all had to leave. from the looks of your other classmates, this exam was a tough one. beside you, haewon was sound asleep with her exam under her arms. you looked up at the door when you heard rushed footsteps and labored breathing, followed by the door closing. minji rushed up to her seat and sat down, not sparing a second to catch her breath before starting her exam. her appearance was slightly more dishevled than she’d normally deem acceptable but you remained silent. for the rest of the exam period you worked on the test trying to match paces with haewon and minji so that the two of you could leave together at the end. despite arriving thirty minutes late for class, minji managed to complete her exam in fifteen minutes, before you and haewon. not even a minute after the three of you exited the classroom you demanded, “bro, where the hell were you this morning?” haewon agreed and added on, “yeah and why are you dressed like adam sandler?” the two of you onced over the oversized t shirt and baggy basketball shorts that she sported with a pair of sneakers you’d never seen before. you wrinkled your nose and added, “and why do you smell like a burnt gas station?”

minji shrugged off your questions as nonchalantly as she could, “there was an emergency at HQ and they called me in to help-” you cut her off, “wouldn’t they just call someone else? you don’t even work there?” minji’s cheeks flushed at the realization that you had a point and she quickly explained, “it was one of those ‘all hands on deck’ things. i was available to help so i did. anyways, i was tired so i stayed with a friend who lived nearby, and i had to borrow some clothes. and i was fixing hanni’s car again, it stopped on the side of the road because she forgot to fill it with gas, it’s not a big deal.” you pretended to be unbothered by the remark but something about the slight limp she had and bruises on her legs made your stomach wind into knots. when you looked back up at her face she caught your eyes lingering on her shins with a slightly uneasy stare. nervously she laughed, “lets go to JavaBean before our next class, my treat.” haewon was already linking arms with you and tugging you along, happily murmuring, “i love that she has that new internship with Samsung. i don’t have to pay for stuff anymore because she keeps treating us.”

haewon turned her phone around and showed you and minji the screen, “did you all see this? that spiderperson stopped a bunch of people from robbing a bank downtown last night! they released the footage this morning.” you watched as the masked assailents attempted to take on the local hero all at once. from the corner of your eye you could see minji shifting uncomfortably in her seat as she watched the video. you looked at her and asked, “isn’t this place right by the samsung building you were at last night? and the footage says it happened around the time you were out. did you see anything?” minji’s eyes widened and she looked down at her iced latte, “no i was inside the building working. we heard the sirens but i didn’t see anything besides police cars up from the windows on my floor.” haewon pouted and said, “damn i wish you’d seen something. i wanna know who this hero is- they’re kinda hot.” you and minji choked on your iced coffees and you laughed, “they wear a mask, you don’t even know if they’re actually hot.” haewon explained, “i mean the act of kicking ass in a spandex suit is hot. but i wouldn’t be surprised if they were good looking too. i’ve seen movies.” minji laughed and shook her head before you turned your attention back to the video. you noticed the way the hero crumpled to the ground when one of the robbers kicked their left knee, coincidentally the same one minji had been babying all day.

at the end of the school day you found minji in the main room of your shared apartment with her laptop over her lap, and chemistry papers scattered around the coffee table. the second she noticed your presence she slammed her laptop closed and scrambled to gather her papers and tuck them away. you furrowed your brows and awkwardly laughed, “why are you acting like a 12 year old getting caught on a 18+ website?” minji’s face was flushed red with panic and she tried to play it off, “just some uh…classified work stuff that’s all?” you pointed to her laptop, “and you’re doing highly classified work on a school laptop connected to public wifi?” minji rolled her eyes and shoved her computer into her backpack without a response, clearly having gotten caught in her lie. your gaze shifted to her legs where she now wore a pair of sweatpants, your sweatpants to be specific. her long sleeved t shirt rode up on one of her arms and your stomach formed a pit when you noticed small scratches and bruises along her skin.

“what happened?” you asked, motioning to her arms with a curious but stern glance. minji quickly tugged her sleeve down and murmured, “nothing, don’t worry about it.” for a moment you almost let it go but decided otherwise knowing whatever was happening would continue if you didn’t try to help. you insisted, “no. you need to tell me what the hell is going on.” minji gave you a confused look and you persisted, “this whole thing where you’re disappearing late at night and not coming home? you keep blowing me and haewon off, not to mention that girl hanni came here the other night in tears thinking something happened to you because you hadn’t answered her calls in a week. why the hell do you keep coming back beat up and bruised?!” minji felt her face heat up and she immediately responded much more defensively than before, “i said don’t worry about it.” she got up and pushed past you before slamming her door, shaking the entire apartment with the force.

for hours you tried to rationalize why minji was suddenly keeping so many secrets from you. what the hell was so secretive about a technology company internship, and why was it that she was only working on projects at night? the more you thought about the whole thing the more stuff started to make less sense. two weeks passed and you noticed minji coming in and out of your dorm at late hours, or just not coming home at all even more. although it wasn’t unusual for her to disappear during the night but you brushed it off knowing that she had that high demand, super prestigious Samsung internship. your suspicions only started to rise further when her bruises and bumps were too noticeable to hide. minji was more closed off towards you and all of your friends and you just missed your roommate, the dork with a 9:30 bedtime, a hermit crab collection, and a love for harry potter. so naturally you decided that you were going to figure out where she was constantly disappearing to since she wouldn’t ever give you a direct answer.

minji left your apartment around 9:00 pm with the excuse of going out to meet a friend for the night, and potentially spending the night. you opened the find my iphone app on your home screen and opened it to see where minji really was. sure enough she was not at a friends house and actually in some old warehouse downtown. you followed the gps to the location and mumbled quietly to haewon who was on facetime, “what would she even be doing over there?” haewon shrugged and answered, “maybe she knows someone in there, you know that place is full of squatters.” you rolled your eyes and said, “she only talks to four people including us and her uncle. i’m not close with that hanni girl she’s friends with but i don’t think she squats in an old metal factory. but i’m here so i’m gonna hang up.” haewon told you firmly, “okay but if anything happens you need to leave okay?” you nodded and hung up before tucking your phone into your pocket.

there was nearly no light inside of the old factory, just a few yellowed bulbs illuminating a few feet ahead of you. broken windows offered rays of moonlight to pool where the bulbs couldn’t, making it only a bit brighter. you pulled your black hood over your head and tucked yourself into a dark corner of the factory just to see if minji was actually there. a group of burly men were huddled together around the center of the floor, taunting a smaller figure between all of them. when one of them moved you saw the familiar carnelian red and navy blue spider suit peeked from the middle. you gasped and felt your heart sink as the men tormented the hero who was already in bad shape. instead of staying you looked at your phone to see that minji’s location was now somewhere else in the city. despite wanting to stay and possibly help the young hero, you knew that it was safer for you to sneak out the way you came in. quickly, you hustled down a flight of stairs and slipped out one of the broken walls into a dark alleyway that would lead to a main street after a few blocks. as you walked down the street you turned back when you heard a blood curdling scream, it sounded all too familiar but you turned back and listened to haewon’s advice, hoping to the heavens above the person screaming wasn’t your best friend.

˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚

walking alone at night in this sketchy part of town wasn’t ideal but public transit wasn’t running at this hour and you weren’t paying for an uber because it wasn’t cheap. you could feel a pair of eyes on you despite nobody being around so you quickend your steps. just as you were about to break into a run a man jumped out from the darkness and blocked your path. there was a sinister smile on his face as he asked, “what’s a pretty thing like you doing out alone at this hour?” you swallowed your fear and stood your ground best you could, “going home. now, excuse me.” you tried to slip by him and the wall just for him to pin your body against it, causing your breath to hitch in your throat.

the man’s face was inches from yours, his breath smelled of cigarettes and alcohol as it ghosted your lips when he smiled, “what’re you doin sweetpea?” you looked him dead in the eye and kept a stoic face before jamming your knee upwards, hitting him straight in the groin. he stumbled back and staggered onto the ground and you looked over him before kicking him in the same spot, adding one hard stomp after just for good measure. you then took off running, hearing him suddenly yelp you turned around to see the local hero in the spider suit shooting webs at him, sticking him to the alley wall. your eyes met the hero and you heard them yell, “run Y/N!” you didn’t even waste another second before you ran all the way back to your apartment, locking the doors behind you and barracading the door. it was after you took a shower and changed into your pajamas that you realized the masked hero said your name, and suddenly it all clicked. to test your theory, you needed solid, undeniable proof that your roommate was not who she said she was.

you peeked into minji’s room through the cracked open door she had and you smiled seeing her window was in fact open. that’s definitely how she was getting in and out of your apartment every night without opening the front door. without wasting a second you pulled the window closed and locked it as tight as you could with a satisfied grin on your face. all you had to do now was wait for minji to get back home.

˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚

hours passed and after one long and surprisingly painful mission, minji was finally rushing back to your shared apartment. she sprinted across the grassy quad as quickly as she could, praying that nobody was going to be outside at this time of night. she frantically attempted to use her web shooters to swing up into the trees, her usual and most secretive way of getting around. however, after the fights she had last night and tonight, she knew it was a long shot. the teenage superhero smiled when she heard a familiar click, but it fell when her web shooters released a thin, miniscule amount of webs that wasn’t even the size of her arm. she cursed under her breath knowing she’d had to fix that before going to sleep, but all she wanted now was to get back into her room. finally she got to her dorm and looked up at her window which sat on the fourth floor of the dorm building you both were assigned to. she began climbing up, wincing as pain seared through her entire body but specifically on her abdomen where a nasty gash was still leaking blood.

a feeling of dread washed over her when she realized her window was both closed and locked which she never did. she will admit she’d been out of it recently, forgetting to do some school assignments, showing up to club meetings, and she’d even screwed up on tonight’s mission resulting in the bloody wound on her side. the feeling of dread was replaced with panic when she heard a couple of students walking a short distance away. there were only a few seconds to spare before she was spotted so she scanned the floor to see if any windows were open. she saw yours, wide open just asking for her to enter. minji held her breath, hoping and praying that you would be asleep tonight. she quickly crawled through your window and up your walls onto the ceiling in an attempt to exit through your door to her room. the superhero made it to the middle of your ceiling when your light flicked on and you gasped, “ahh! what the fuck?! what the fuck? what the FUCK?!” you yanked the broom from your closet and started smacking the masked individual on your ceiling with it. just like a real spider, minji quickly dashed from one side of your ceiling to another, almost making it out of your room. that was until the broom jammed right into her abdomen, making her scream in pain and fall onto your floor with a loud thud.

you immediately reached forward and snatched the mask off her head, ready to swing the broom on the stranger again and call the police. a small gasp left your lips when you realized it wasn’t a stranger but rather your own roommate of a year. she had her eyes closed in pain while tears pricked the side of her eyes, getting ready to roll down her cheeks. blood ran from her nose, purple and blue splotches peppered her brow bone, jaw, and cheek, while a cut over her lip had a thick patch of partially dried blood. you looked at her carnelian red suit that was darkening over her stomach area. her hand pressed over it and you urgently moved, “oh my god- minji!” she weakly smiled through a wince of pain, “hey, y/n.” you looked down at her and brought your hands to your head, “holy shit i was right- oh god- ok um…shit you’re bleeding on my rug.” you bent down to help her up, taking most of her body weight onto yourself while she hobbled with you to the bathroom. minji winced once more and you onced her over, “you need to take that off so i can clean your stomach.” immediately minji refused, “no i’m fine it’s just a little cut. you can go to sleep y/n, it’s fine. this is nothing new.” your heart clenched at hearing her last words but you were adamant, “no i’m helping you. minji, you can’t even stand up straight. so take it off so i can help you.” she sighed in defeat knowing that there was no point in trying to refuse because you wouldn’t let up, and honestly she did need help this time. minji pressed a button on her suit causing it to quickly retract up her arms and legs, leaving her in what was now a form fitting tank top and biker shorts version of her suit.

minji placed her hand on her side, applying pressure to the cut before you gently lifted her onto the countertop of the bathroom. she shifted uncomfortably for a minute while you grabbed a handful of bandaging pads, gauze, and medical bandage tape. when you came back you carefully lifted her top to expose the wound. a small whine of pain left minji’s lips as you peeled the material from her bloodied skin. once that part was done you rinsed it with water, minji gripping onto your shoulder so she didn’t interfere with your help. while you cleaned it, you stated, “if it was any deeper i would’ve had to take you to the ER.” she remained silent at the remark, instead focusing on the way your hands tenderly took care of her wounded body. the teenager hissed as you began to dress the wound with layers of gauze and bandaging tape, throwing her head back to prevent tears from falling. afterwards, you placed small bandaids over the small cuts on her brow bone, temple, and jaw. minji could feel your eyes skimming her arms and legs, looking at the varying scars decorated with new bruises that she’d gotten in the past year. however, she was surprised when you didn’t mention a single word about any of it. instead, you finished up and said, “just avoid getting those wet when you shower, drink water and eat, and let your body rest. alright?” the superhero nodded and you said, “okay, i’m done. good night, i’ll see you in the morning.” minji mumbled a shy, “thank you” under her breath to which you smiled and assured her, “it’s no big deal.”

you turned around to leave and minji grabbed your hand, “i’m spiderman or girl or woman or whatever. but it’s me.” slowly you turned to face and looked into her eyes, “minji, i know.” she sighed and pulled you closer to her as she still sat on the bathroom counter, her legs wrapped around your torso to keep you close, “no- i know that i just don’t want there to be any more secrets. i can’t keep lying to you.” she pulled your arms to rest on her shoulders as she held your waist and you prompted, “so what else should i know about my spiderwoman?” butterflies erupted in minji’s stomach and she cracked a smile through her split lip, wincing when it hurt slightly. she ran her knuckles along your side and she started, “i can shoot webs from my suit, i can crawl on walls, i’m pretty fast and i’m stronger than regular people, i heal faster so all of this will be fine tomorrow mostly, i have enhanced balance and reflexes, and i get this tingly feeling when i feel like there’s impending danger.” you looked at her asking for more and she continued, “i do really work for samsung though just not in the engineering program like you and haewon think. it’s this classified project so as much as i want to tell you more, i can’t because i don’t know much either right now."

you asked, "what about the day you came in late for the exam? why'd you smell like gas and ash, hanni has a tesla and that doesn't take gas. and what happened to you that day you were there in the alley? i saw you in the factory too." minji sighed and admitted, "i saved a man from a burning car on the side of the highway. they stabbed me in the factory which is why i screamed, and i had a feeling something was going wrong in the alley after i escaped the factory. but that’s all of my secrets i promise. no more secrets, okay?”

brushed a stuck hair from minji’s forehead and nodded, “no more secrets, huh?” she hummed in agreement and you told her quietly, “i have one.” minji’s eyes found yours and you cupped her face with your hand, “i really like you, more than a friend.” minji broke out into a smile and responded, “i really like you too.” you asked almost as if you didn’t believe her, “yeah?” she nodded eagerly, “yeah.” minji leaned foreward and pressed her head against yours, you placed a gentle kiss on her forehead then you pulled away and looked at her, both of you sharing a similar glance, “don’t tell haewon.” the two of you bursted into laughter and minji leaned forward pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek.

˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚

end.

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writingsfromhome · 1 year

Text

Things to Learn

Request: hiii idk if youve thought about this but what about a mean girl!yn and nerd!harry high school fic or something like that :))

A/N: it is what the request says, idk if this is exactly what you wanted but writing a mean girl!yn was different for me. I also wrote this from Harry’s third pov so that’s also different lol. Hope you enjoy it? Thanks for the req :) <3

———————————————

Harry hated girls like her. Hate was a strong word, he knew that. And he used it still.

He eyes her again as she sits on the lunch table and talks animatedly to her friends about something shallow or irrelevant. He goes back to the sandwich he had for lunch.

“She’s out of your league mate,” Harry’s best friend tells him.

“What?”

“YN? You’re staring at her. She’s out of your league. Like so far that even if you climbed a mountain and looked over everything you wouldn’t be able to see-“

“I got it,” Harry didn’t like her. He knew she was well out of his league and he didn’t care. He had one more year of this shite called high school and then he was off to uni. His sister always told him high school labels didn’t follow you there. “I don’t even like her. I was just looking.”

His friend makes a noise, he didn’t believe him.

“I’m serious. Ms. Easton partnered us in history probably because she’s not doing well. I’ve got the highest grade. But she’s insufferable.”

“You’re insufferable,” his friend shoots back. “If I was partnered with her I’d be shooting my shot. Every chance.”

“I’d rather shoot myself,” Harry mutters. He had history next period and he wasn’t looking forward to it. Their class had booked the library for research period and that meant suffering through it with YN.

He’s first to arrive at the library and books a computer. They were researching the royal family, he didn’t know what angle the paper was going to be from but he would figure it out later. Alone. Because YN was always too busy not giving a shit.

The truth was, he just didn’t understand girls like YN. How they could be so shallow and rude for no reason, he didn’t think the world was rainbows and unicorns but it was decent to just be a little nicer. She was judgemental, loud, and of course attractive as hell. But her personality ruined any good looks in his opinion. So even though he was staring at lunch, he didn’t find her very attractive.

“I guess we’re sitting here,” speak of the devil. Surprisingly YN is here before the bell goes off. She sits in the seat next to Harry and her bag is thrown on the floor.

“Hi to you too,” Harry mutters. He ignores her, continuing to flip through his textbook for the correct chapter.

“Have we decided on a topic?”

Harry grits his teeth. I don’t know YN have we? Instead he says, “No.”

“Oh, well why not just do it on what’s going on right now?”

“Because it’s a history class,” Harry finally look at her. He remembers it was a little nerve wracking to do that when they were first partnered but now his annoyance triumphed any nerves.

“And?” She scrunches her brows. “Isn’t that the point?”

She had no idea what she was talking about. He shakes his head and goes back to his textbook.

“You don’t have to be such a nerd all the time you know that?” She continues.

Harry ignores her.

“Hello?” She snaps her fingers. Who did she think she was?

“Can we just work?” Harry couldn’t stand her.

The bell rings. YN picks up her phone in a huff and Harry goes back to Googling for their project.

***

Harry packs his bag with the books he needs as students rush past him to go home. His bag weighed a million pounds and he’s pretty sure it aged his back 40 years but it was either his grades or his back that suffered.

“Hey Harry,” a voice calls out to him as we heads out the door. He turns to it; Raina, one of YN’s friends. She twirls her blonde hair and tilts her head. “It is Harry right?”

“Uhm,” suddenly Harry’s throat was parched. Raina was gorgeous and gorgeous girls never spoke to him.

“You’re cute,” she gets up close and personal with Harry and everything in that big brain of his liquifies and slides away. “So I heard you’re giving my bestie a hard time.”

“Your-uh,” what was wrong with him? Focus!

“My bestie! YN?”

“Oh,” the name snaps him out. Was this a prank, why was Raina talking to him? “W-what?”

“I thought you were smart,” she tilts her head again, this time Harry understands it to be condescending. “Did you not understand the question?”

Harry hears a snicker from behind him. His heart drops, he knew what was happening yet he walked right into it.

“Harry’s really smart,” YN’s voice comes from behind. “So smart he can’t even talk to me. Like, I’ll bring down your IQ or something right?”

“I never said that,” Harry turns, back to the wall like he was in some sort of fight for his life and he had to cover all his angles.

“Then what’s your problem?” YN demands. Her friend takes a back seat, staring at him from behind YN’s shoulder.

“I didn’t say I had one,” Harry mumbles.

“What? Speak up!” With one hand on her hip, YN was the image of a mean girl. Harry’s gaze flickers up to her face and he realizes she was actually angry. At him. He looks away.

“You’re so pathetic,” she tells him. “You can barely look me in the eye when I’m talking to you but you think you’re a hot shot just cuz you get straight As. You can take your intellectual superiority and shove it up your ass.”

He was surprised to hear her say intellectual superiority, then he realizes the irony of thinking that.

“This guy bothering you?”

Great. Harry hitches his backback higher on his shoulders. One of YN’s soccer star boyfriends had joined. He looks Harry up and down with a condescending smirk.

“No, I got it.” YN says but her friend opens her big mouth.

“He thinks he’s the smartest person here, he treats YN like shite.”

“Really?” He turns to Harry and now is when Harry realizes he was deep in. There was no way out.

“I’m sorry,” he looks YN in the eye and only her. He had to make a quick exit, find a way out of this before these meatheads decided to defend YN’s honour or something like that.

“Too late for sorry,” Raina says. Another guy—Brett joins the crowd.

“What’s going on?” He asks.

“Nothing,” YN says while her eyes stay on Harry.

“Hey Harry! Mate! This guy helped me pass my maths last semester.”

“Yeah he’s a nerd,” the other guy says to Brett. “That’s the point.”

“Hey Brett,” Harry nods. He should go, he thinks. Make a move. Get out of this circle forming around him.

“He’s a dick to YN,” Raina reminds everyone. What was her issue? “And he’s always staring at her like a creep.”

YN turns to look at her friend. Raina widens her eyes and shrugs.

“What the fuck?” The other guy, Harry had no idea what his name was, steps closer to Harry. “Are you a fucking perv?”

Statistically, this guy with his brute force and reactivity was probably more likely to be a perv over the years than Harry. But Harry doesn’t think it’s a good time to say that.

“Anyway,” YN says and with that all eyes are on her. “Apology not accepted. I’m over this let’s go.”

She walks away from him, Raina eyes him and follows. Their friend gives Harry the stink eye and follows too. Brett’s left. He shrugs and finally leaves Harry alone.

Little by little the breath comes back to his lungs and with shaky steps Harry exits the building. Some students lingering in the hall stare as he goes, probably the audience to what almost went down. And this was why Harry hated YN.

***

Over the next week Harry tries to be less intellectually superior to YN and practices looking her in the eye. He doesn’t know why it was so hard.

And it surprises him when the words coming out of her mouth aren’t entirely superficial and basic. But she continues to verbally abuse and belittle him and Harry continues to take it, his ire growing more by the day.

Just on Tuesday, at lunch she’d sent one of her boyfriends to sit at his table where he threatened Harry. Harry’s friend had stared at his phone the whole time, traitor. And yesterday YN had listed for him all the ways he could improve his appearance during class.

“Your hair could use a nice trim,” she tells him. “And your glasses are so 1970s. Like not in a trendy way. And honestly Harry why do you wear clothes that are too big and too old. Like seriously…”

It was hard not to be a know-it-all when that’s what she wanted to spend her time talking about.

“My appearance isn’t really a priority for me,” Harry had said hoping to shut her up.

“It really should be. Hey,” she’d called out to a friend of hers in class. “Don’t you think Harry’s style is sad?”

“Him?” Her friend had asked, like she wasn’t sure if she was supposed to say it in front of him. Harry had burned with embarrassment. “Yeah I reckon he could use a makeover.”

“Yeah maybe then he’d get a girlfriend. Get his nose out of his books.”

They laughed and the sound was haunting. Harry stayed staring at his book, gritting his teeth. He’d never had a girlfriend, gone on two dates in his life. It didn’t usually bother him but somehow YN made it feel like an open wound.

On Thursday, they have another research period.

“And how are we doing here?” Ms. Easton leans down and balances on their table. Harry and YN opted for a table and books this period.

“Good,” YN sits up. “Just finishing our research.”

“Good,” Ms. Easton smiles. “Did you two decide on a topic?”

Harry doesn’t look but he can feel her rolling her eyes. “Yeah. Harry wanted to do the royal family and their war legacy.”

“Hm.”

Harry was sensitive to feedback. When you’re smart you don’t get a lot of criticism, and when you do, it’s a hard pill to swallow. That’s why he was so sensitive to the tone of his teacher’s voice. He looks up to her. Was it just him or did she look a bit disappointed.

“S’not a good topic?” Harry asks. YN glances at him.

“Well,” the teacher crosses an arm over her abdomen and waves the other hand. She was choosing her words. “I was hoping putting the two of you together would produce an interesting project. Something out of the ordinary.”

“Oh.” Harry feels his grade flash in front of his eyes. Well, not flash but plummet.

“Hmph,” YN says in satisfaction. “Well Harry here felt very strongly about the topic.”

“Okay,” Ms. Easton pursues her lips. “It is a good topic. I’m looking forward to hearing all about it at the end of the month!”

As soon as their teacher is out of hearing range YN turns to Harry.

“I told you so.”

With that, she gets out of her seat and walks away. Out of the library, swiping the hall pass on her way out.

Suddenly he was hot. Very hot. Harry could feel the sweat dampen his shirt and he pulls the collar away from his neck. His project was disappointing? He was doing something wrong?

He stumbles up and finds Ms. Easton.

“Yes Harry?” She addresses him when she’s done with the pair she’d been talking to.

“Um what you said,” Harry clears his throat. “About the project. And pairing me with YN. I don’t understand…should we change it?”

“Up to you two to decide!” She says vaguely. “I can’t pick your topics for you. And you should only change it if you think you have enough time.”

“But our topic is disappointing?” Harry didn’t understand why Ms. Easton would make those comments and not just tell them upfront what she wants.

“No not at all!” she guides Harry to a bookshelf where it’s quieter. “War is a classic topic. But it’s also a very…straightforward topic do you understand?”

Classic was good. Classic was timeless, is that not what she wanted!?

“Harry,” she chides when he continues staring at her. “Listen. You’re a bright kid. Really, proper smart. I know you’ll do amazing in your future regardless of what I say in this class.”

It was YN. There was a but coming and she was going to say something about YN.

“But I’ve had a few bright kids in my class before. The thing about history is it repeats and the pattern I see is that there’s a creative energy even in something like history that’s lost on big brains like yours. That’s why I paired you with YN. I thought you two would complement the way you think really well. I was hoping to see a new topic come out of it. That’s not to say your current topic isn’t fabulous. I think if you want to continue with it, I’m excited to learn more.”

Harry doesn’t have anything to say. Actually, he’s embarrassed. This whole time he thought being partnered with YN was because she was failing or doing horribly. When really it was because the teacher thought he could use some help. Intellectual superiority 100, Harry 0.

“You two are getting along right?” Ms. Easton probes.

“Yeah,” Harry lies.

“She’s letting you call the shots?” She asks casually.

“Ehm,” Harry wavers. He had taken the reigns immediately because he didn’t think she could handle them. He feels his face turn more pink.

“The great thing about this project is to collaborate. Throughout history some of the best things were brought from collaborating…”

Harry zones her out and looks back at their desk. YN is still not there. Maybe she was skipping. But he spots her bag, that wasn’t true.

“Oh I better go help out your classmate,” Ms. Easton points to where someone has their hand up. “You’re alright?”

“Yeah,” Harry shakes the funk off. Maybe he’ll listen to YN more now but they only had a week and a half and it would be crazy to change their topic now.

But as he sits in his seat and waits for YN to return, to collaborate with, he feels it again. The sinking feeling. Like something was his fault.

YN was the mean girl but he hasn’t been the most friendly either.

After another 10 minutes go by he gets out of his seat and grabs the second hall pass.

He spots around the toilets, moves through the halls, and makes his way back to a stairwell. There YN leans against a wall on her phone. She doesn’t look up as he walks down until he stands in front of her.

“Oh,” the glow of her phone moves off her face, muffled by her sweater. “I thought you were random.”

“Are you coming back?” Harry asks. Still, his eyes flit from her face to her neck, settling on the wall behind her.

“Why does it matter? You’re doing the project with or without me.”

His throat feels like it’s stuffed with cotton as he swallows. He should apologize. He should-

“Why are you so awkward for?” She demands. “Like. You’re smart and all but you’re kind of weird.”

Nevermind. He was so not apologizing.

“Hello? And then you go so quiet when I say anything direct. You can be smart as shite but you’re not making it anywhere if you can’t even talk to a girl without staring a hole into the space beside her.”

Harry’s mum always said to be himself. This was him, smart (nerdy—fine), quiet, awkward, and bookish. But it wasn’t easy to be this way when girls like YN existed. They were confident and loud, and she called him out like his sister did. But she was nothing like her. She was beautiful and she knew it. And she was rude, but maybe her mum told her to be herself too and this was it.

“What are you thinking?” She demands.

“What?” Harry asks in surprise.

“I want to know what the fuck you’re thinking in that big brain! You’re so awkward! Jeez!”

“I’m-I-why?”

“I don’t get you.” She gives him a once over. “So? What were you thinking?“

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit.”

“Seriously I-“

“Tell me.”

“I…” Harry trails away. He turns away from her and walks to the other end of the stairwell, pivots, and stands a few feet in front of her. “I was just wondering if this is who you really are.”

“Me? How am I?” Eyes narrowed, she sounds both curious and defensive.

“Really?” Harry meets her eye. “You’ve got such an attitude, you’re rude and loud and pushy, and I don’t know why you don’t like me but you’re always so condescending so I was just wondering if that’s who you are. Like when your mum says to be yourself, is that who you chose?”

Her mouth drops, then it snaps shut and her arms cross over in defence.

“You know why I don’t like you?” She asks. “Because you’ve got an attitude. You’re rude and pushy and condescending to fuck. So let me ask you—is that who you are? Is that who mummy tucks into bed each night?”

Harry’s impressed how she’s turned it around on him. He doesn’t take it seriously until she breaks eye contact and looks away.

“If I listened to my mom’s advice, I would be a bloody doormat in this place. I’d be used and discarded like a wet wipe. I have to be rude and pushy. And don’t even get me started on boys like you, who call girls pushy just because they know what they want. I can’t afford to be who I am, like you can, because I don’t have the privilege of being a bloke.”

They have a stare-off, mostly Harry is just surprised at everything coming out of her mouth. She goes on.

“I know who you are Harry. I know you’ve got a mum and sister you’re close with. I’ve seen you around town. For someone with two women like that in your life you can look up to, you sure are a misogynistic prick.”

Harry’s left stunned. He didn’t think she ever noticed him let alone know him. He replays her words, her glimpse of vulnerability. If her words were an essay, there would be no red ink. It was hard for him to accept but she was right. From the start, when Ms. Easton paired them he made a million assumptions about her. That were all proven wrong. And Ms. Easton was right too: he was smart and good at being smart but maybe there was more than that.

“Now you’re quiet again!?” YN sounds defeated.

“No wait,” Harry speaks up before she leaves. “I’m sorry. Seriously.”

“Yeah whatever,” she rolls her eyes. “I’m over this.”

“Actually,” he steps in the same direction she does as she heads for the door. She stops in surprise. “Actually I am sorry. I was being intellectually superior. You’re smart too. I’m sorry.”

She looks at him warily, like he was going to laugh at her and tell her he was joking. When he doesn’t, when he maintains eye contact even though it kills him inside she backs away. Her face relaxes, like she’s accepted backing down. It was quite a sight for Harry, to see YN the Mean Girl who’s been making the last couple weeks hell for him, transform into something softer. Something that—he was still nervous to look at for too long, but one he could look at a little easier.

“I don’t want to write about the royal family and their fucking war legacy.”

Harry wasn’t expecting that.

“That’s basic as hell, I’m falling asleep just imagining us presenting it. It’s like buying drugstore when we can be buying Sephora.”

She squints at him, waiting for a rebuttle but he lets her have this one. After what Ms. Easton said, Harry was realizing that being smart didn’t mean you were right all the time. And he also had no idea what her example meant.

“Wow. Nothing?”

“No, I agree.” Harry smiles, a little embarrassed but wow. Her mouth splits into a grin and it changes her whole face. She’s suddenly younger, carefree, in that moment as Harry remembers how to breathe, he sees the person her mother tells her to be.

“What?” The staircase dims as she takes the smile back. “Are you going to go back to being mute.”

“No,” I was just admiring how beautiful you looked right now. Maybe you’re not who I thought you were. But you’re also way out of my league so now I have to act cool about it. “I just don’t know if we have time-“

“Stop.” She puts her hand up and walks towards him, back to the doors. “I’m going to come up with a pitch so good I’ll be picking your jaw off the floor and wiring it shut again. And…you can pitch your sad topic to me. The best one wins.”

“But we can just vote our own,” Harry points out the flaw in her plan, ignoring her threat.

“I think we’re both mature enough to hear each other out?” She opens the door back to the hall and Harry scrambles through it to keep up.

“I know I am,” Harry says it before he can think. Uh oh.

“You’re cheeky,” YN eyes him but she doesn’t look upset. Actually, she looks delighted. “Not just a quiet nerd hm?”

Harry shrugs, they had really been their stereotypes the last few weeks.

“So what you said before, you think I’m smart?”

“Well, yeah. I guess.” Harry felt uncomfortable now on the spot.

“So like you think I can be the future prime minister?”

“I…don’t know about that.” Harry side eyes her to notice she’s smiling. She was teasing him.

The bell rings out as they near the library.

“Talk to you tomorrow,” she says to him. She shoots him another smile and Harry tries to memorize it, second guessing he ever thought she was unattractive.

***

That Friday it’s like Harry and YN never had that conversation. She ignores him in the halls as usual, her friends sneer at him when they catch him looking their way. As much as Harry didn’t want to be disappointed, he was. Why did he think anything was going to be different?

But he couldn’t stop thinking about her. Her smile was a loop in his head any time his mind wanders. No wonder their whole grade was in love with her.

“You’re staring. Again.” Harry’s mate says at lunch. This time Harry looks away quickly, embarrassed. “What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing,” he says quickly. “She’s just been making my life hell since we partnered up.”

“Yeah I heard those guys roughened you up at lunch the other day.”

They didn’t. But they did aim a basketball around the net as Harry was walking by yesterday and it had hit him. His glasses had fallen off but luckily nothing broke.

“Just one more week,” Harry mutters. Earlier this week he was counting down the days. Now he wasn’t so sure.

When the bell rings signalling the end of lunch, Harry is surprised when YN falls in line with him to their class.

“Pitch ready?” She asks. She smelled amazing like flowers and tea. Focus.

“Yep,” Harry didn’t put much effort into it. He didn’t have the same passion he did before and he was curious what YN had.

They get the last 20 minutes of class to work on their project. YN sits behind Harry so he turns when their time starts.

“Me first,” YN brings out a binder. She pulls out a folded piece of paper that she hands. He opens it and glitter falls into his lap.

“Ugh!” Harry jumps up but despite that his crotch sparkles. “What is this?”

YN’s eyes are lit up and she hides her giggles behind her hand. Harry stares, turning pink. Why would she do that?

“I’m so-“ she covers her mouth again. “I’m sorry!” She’s shaking as she tries to stop laughing. It’s kind of contagious and Harry cracks a smile.

“My pants are covered in glitter,” he deadpans which send her head onto the table as she shakes with laughter.

“It was just supposed to lighten the mood ohmygod,” YN can barely finish her sentence.

That was it. Harry tries to pick up whatever glitter he can, using the paper (he realizes it was her pitch) as a dustpan. He taps her behind the shoulder and she jumps up to turn, in that moment he dumps the paper on her and sits back down in satisfaction.

“Now we’re even,” Harry tell her. Her mouth is open in shock.

“No!” She tries to dust it off but her crotch, that Harry glances at, is also shimmering. “We were even after I did that to you! This is! Oh my god.”

She stands over Harry, her eyes glancing at his pants. A snicker escapes. Then she’s back in her seat laughing.

“I have to say your pitch is not going well,” Harry reminds her.

“Oh my god,” she tried to get serious but she’s still grinning. Harry doesn’t mind.

“Should I go first?” He asks.

“No no I got this. Okay. The royal family and…their influence on food. Now before you think it’s stupid did you know the matriarch actually has a list of forbidden foods. And if we go back, and look at the countries they invaded we can see…” YN grows serious, but passionate, as she begins pitching the topic. And before anything just her passion alone convinces Harry they had to do this topic. “From land to table.”

“Okay.” Harry says.

“Okay? Like that was just okay?”

“No, I vote your topic.”

“Oh my god really?” She lights up and it’s blinding. Harry wanted to make her light up every chance he got. Focus.

“Yeah I think it’s interesting. And different. But we only have a week.”

“That’s okay!” YN opens her binder and pulls out another sheet. “I did a bunch of research. I couldn’t really sleep last night cuz of…anyway. So our library has all these books that can help. And we can spend the weekend catching up right? We can meet at the local library and work. So we’re caught up by Monday.”

Wow. She really thought this through.

“Isn’t that too nerdy for you?” Harry has to ask. Didn’t she have something cooler to do on the weekend.

“Oh my god,” she rolls her eyes. That was the YN he knew. “Just because I’m not a nerd doesn’t mean I don’t care about my grades. You should know my lowest grade has been 82 this year.”

Wow. Even though Harry never scored below 95 that was still impressive coming from her. Which it shouldn’t be, he reminds himself. She was smart—just in a different way.

“Okay let’s do it!” Harry was excited. He suddenly understood what Ms. Easton was trying to say, he was missing creativity.

“Yay!” She squeezes his arm and Harry’s never felt more aware of his arm in his life. YN notices him freezing and she pulls away. “Sorry. I didn’t give you my cooties did I?”

She was quick. But it was funny and Harry can’t help but let out a snort.

“Is that a laugh? Are you laughing at something I said about you?”

Harry shakes his head and turns in his seat but his face is stuck in the grin. YN continues to heckle him from behind but she’s interrupted by the bell.

“Give me your number,” she says as he packs up. “So we can coordinate tomorrow.”

“Oh yeah,” Harry pulls up his contacts and hands her his phone. “Just put yours in.”

“Okay, I’m texting myself too,” she types for a while and then hands it back. It’s only later when she texts him at the end of the day does he click her contact.

Future Prime Minister YN ❤️

The picture is one of her from below with a serious face on. When he squints he realizes she’s flipping him off. It’s funny, and Harry feels like he sees her now. Even though she couldn’t always be herself like he could, Harry now understood her enough to recognize the glimpses of herself she was giving him.

It’s destined that every nerd falls for the mean girl. Harry never believed that until now. As YN becomes more recognizable to him, his crush grows a little more. He had to nip this in the bud, he realizes. Because she would never feel the same way. In a million years. But maybe they could be friends. Maybe it was time for Harry to discover who he could be when he wasn’t spending all his time being nerdy. He had a lot to learn from her, he realizes. And the one thing he was good at was studying.

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gabrielsbubblegumbitch · 10 days

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First off, I absolutely adore your in-depth analysis and fantastic understanding of the Hazbin characters!! not sure how much you've touched on this topic particularly, but I'd love to hear your take on it! (esp w/ its relevance in szn 2)

How do you interpret the past dynamic between Vox and Alastor? Do you think Vox was genuine, close friends with Alastor, or were there hidden agendas of any kind? Given just how much their ideals and *everything* clash in present day, im curious yet struggling to pinpoint what exactly what MADE them acquaintances (and as close as they are implied to have been), besides solely their connection to technology and entertainment media, before their inevitable fallout. did Vox reallyyy change that much during his time in Hell? (or was there always an underlying tension between them?) (also, just, what the hell happened between these two)

Awww thank you ❤️

So, when it comes to Vox and Alastor, I think what brought them together was their ambition. Both of them crave power, though they define it differently. In my headcanon, at the beginning, Vox was more like Alastor because he didn't have enough influence to be his perfect self. Starting from nothing was hard for him because, like most capitalism lovers, he had never experienced building from scratch. Even though Alastor was simply useful to him, whatever they had was real. But it wasn’t genuine, because Vox is a narcissist, and we often attune to others perfectly. He liked Alastor, so he portrayed himself as someone Alastor would also like. In Vox's mind, this was just a way of caring for their friendship.

Additionally, Alastor is a very guarded person, so he wasn't fully genuine either. He hid things from Vox and often manipulated him because he knew how much Vox cared. Alastor cared too—he saw Vox as a perfect addition to his friend group, someone he could see as an equal. Knowing how driven and ambitious Vox is, Alastor seriously hoped they could rearrange Hell together, get rid of all the Overlords, and make the game more interesting.

The first issue that arose was Vox's greed. He wanted to expand (I wrote more about him here), but not in a way that Alastor liked. This was the first time Alastor realized that Vox might want to overthrow the ruling class just to take their place. Vox tried to explain that it was completely different—overthrowing old money would give power back to the people, creating a perfect anarcho-capitalist utopia, the ultimate survival of the fittest—something he and Alastor both wanted.

They were just two friends who started with a common goal but eventually realized they had very different ideas about making it real. Think Charles Xavier and Magneto or Dumbledore and Grindelwald. They began to notice flaws in their plan. On paper, a society where anyone can achieve high social status through determination and hard work sounds very free, very much up Alastor's alley. But upon deeper inspection, they realized that capitalism cannot exist without oppression and surveillance. It’s just a matter of whether it’s the government or corporations doing it.

Tension grew, and at some point, they couldn't stand each other. Especially when feelings came into the equation. Alastor hated that Vox loved the idea of him. He knew they were completely incompatible, and Vox would never truly love him, so it felt objectifying to know that, in Vox's mind, he wasn't even a real person, just something Vox wanted him to be. On the other hand, Vox was terribly frustrated with Alastor not playing along with his fantasy. They could have become the most powerful couple in Hell, but Alastor rejected both his advances and his ideas. However, the toxicity worked both ways—Alastor felt betrayed by Vox, so he became unnecessarily cruel and neglectful, trying to punish Vox for being who he was.

Okay, I know this take is filled with my personal headcanons, but I think that canonically their relationship followed this pattern of alliance based on common goals and mutual (mis)understanding, eventually falling apart after realizing they actually wanted very different things.

Regarding its relevance in season two, I expect that we will learn their exact backstory. I hope that after years of feeding into hate and bitterness, they will escalate this conflict until there's nothing but scorched earth. Also, I think we will learn that Alastor does, in fact, care deeply—he hates Vox fiercely but hides it better.

#hazbin hotel #vox #vox hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #ask #headcanon

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daydream-cement · 1 year

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Keep Talking

Larissa Weems x Student!Reader

Authors Note: Hey everybody! I recently wrote a story where reader has a stutter and someone was lovely enough to chat with after I posted it about the misconceptions that I wrote into my fic! I do want to apologize to those with a stutter or related speech disorder for displaying stereotypes or making you feel underrepresented! I try to do adequate research before writing about any intersections that I do not have and I failed to do so with the other fic.

I hope I did better with this one! I used the resources below to write it!

Here are a couple resources for other writers who may chose to write characters with a stutter: Writing Characters Who Stutter or How to Write Stuttering (from a writer who's father stutters)

(Reader struggles with b, p, k, and w sounds.)

You were waiting at the Weathervane for your friends when Principal Weems graced the premises. Her head was held high as she pushed past the front door towards the small line of people waiting to order. You went back to typing on your computer, trying to complete an essay for anatomy class.

When she ordered, she sat across from you while she waited for her name to be called, "Now how are you today. Mx L/n?"

You had never had much of an opportunity to interact with Principal Weems while you were attending Nevermore, but from the few interactions you had, she always seemed nice enough.

"I'm good, P-p- I'm good. How are you?" You stopped yourself and restarted the thought, deciding to avoid saying her name all together.

"Very well. I'm just stopping in to get a coffee before my afternoon meetings." She gave you a theatrical eye roll, but it her tone suggested that she truly wasn't dreading any of her meetings. From what you understood, she seemed to like her job, apart from the occasional misbehaving student, "What are you doing here? Waiting for friends?"

"Yes, they were-were supposed to meet me here around 11, b-but they are running late." You explain, glancing down at your computer to check the time. It was only 11:15 and they had texted you that they would be there soon.

"I can keep you company until then if you would like?" Principal Weems offered. Just then her name was called and she gave you an apologetic glance as she lifted herself from the booth to retrieve her drink. She came back to sit with you, her hands on either side of the cup to soak in the warmth, "What are we working on?"

"W-well I started a p...paper on gorgon anatomy and I'm really enjoying it. It is very c-" You stop yourself and plan out the next few words wisely, "It is very interesting to learn about their abilities to stone p-people."

"Keep talking." Principal Weems was always one to make sure she encouraged students to find subjects they loved. In the end, she ended up helping you tons with your project that was due. It turns out that Principal Weems seemed to be well versed in many outcast subjects. You grew more and more comfortable talking with her, your stutter became slightly more subdued, but not absent.

When your friends arrived, Principal Weems was quick to stand, greeting the other students as she did so. She took her coffee from the table and big you a individual goodbye, "Great talking with you, dear. Have a wonderful day."

"You too!" You call after her before turning back to your friends to hear their story of why they were so late to coffee.

#larissa weems x reader #larissa weems #student!reader #plantonic #wednesday netflix #principal weems #principal larissa weems #gwendoline christie #fanfic #oneshot

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pencap · 8 months

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You really inspire me. I used to write poetry when I was a child. Good poetry, I was told. But then I got into novels. And then I got into academics and stopped writing for fun altogether. Everything was so formal, so proper, and I was good at that too, but I feel like I stopped being able to express deep sentiments.

I've just started writing again in the past few years, and I love it. The "creative juices" as they say are flowing again, and it's wonderful - I've missed it. But I feel like I write less descriptively than when I was young. Like, I've lost how to write prose, and connect with.... feeling. I stumbled across your blog a while back - when it was quiet and still. But I followed because your words were so beautiful. And suddenly you're back! And you really do write so stunningly. But the way you've spoken a bit about yourself, your journey, has really struck me.

Anyway, what I'm trying to say is that you've had an impact on me as a reader. I feel by observing you get back on your feet again I'm getting back in touch with my past self, and that something is waking up within me. I want to write poetry again. And watching you do it, I feel like I can too. 💛

i have a distinct memory of the first poem i remember writing. it might not be the first i ever wrote, but it's the first i ever remember. it was handwritten, on a construction-paper-and-five-year-old-art notebook bound together as some children's art project. the poem was on a bright red page. i don't remember the words, but i remember writing it curled up against my desk, in shaky childish writing. it was about autumn, and colours changing, and leaves falling. it had meter and rhymes and very even lines.

on days that i do not feel like a writer, a poet, i remember that little girl who barely knew what a poem was. she was writing anyway. she was even good at it, i dare say. i wrote poems i didn't need to write all the way through middle school and high school, writing two and three and five times as many poems as assigned in my english classes.

but i stopped for a while, too. over the years, again and again, i stopped. i stopped because i lost touch with myself. i stopped because of schoolwork. i stopped because i left fandoms behind. i stopped because i felt like the words had dried up and i was scared that all i could piece together was flaking mud from a dry riverbed. i stopped for a hundred different reasons, a hundred different times, but i came back.

i don't write the way i did at seven, or fifteen, or even twenty-two. but then, i don't talk like i did at seven anymore, either. i don't think that way, or live that way, or even look that way. so maybe it's inevitable that my poetry changes, too. maybe it's good that my poetry changes, too.

and maybe it doesn't matter whether it's good or not. maybe what matters is that i am listening, and i am speaking. i am awake. maybe i am whole again, finding a part of myself that has been missing.

that little girl is still there, after all. she is always a part of me, and i think if i let her, she will always be talking to me. just like your past self is a part of you, too. all the words you said, all the words you never said. all the new words you are finding to say. they are all part of you, too. i know you will find your poetry again, because it has always been within you and always will be.

#sylvie speaks #ask sylvie #i am rambling greatly but i am trying to say #that i hear you and i see you and i feel you #you are not alone #and i am so so glad that you are here and writing #and thank you for your love and kindness and support

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neonmeron · 8 months

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木曜日　2023/10/12

こんにちはみんなさん！

みんなは元気？私はまあまあ。木曜日はあまり好きじゃない。:/

今日のトピック：や、～なければいけません、midterm review

So this past 金曜日 was the midterm. It wasn't that bad and we already got our scores but I wanted to go over our midterm review sheet.

I have a challenge for you! I want you to write down what you think the answer is based on my previous posts. There are one or two grammar points I don't think I've gone over with you, so I'll do that now.

The final grammar points i need to cover are や And ～なければいけない／なきゃいけない

Let's start with や!

や connects two nouns like と except や suggests that the things referred to are proposed as examples and that you are not exciting an exhaustive list. It's similar in the way that たり is used. 練習しましょう。

AやB (A and B, for example)

東京や大阪に行った。I went to tokyo and osaka (and may have visited other places)

おにぎりやラーメンを食べた。I ate onigiri and ramen. (and may have eaten other things)

Honestly there's not much else to it. It's really straightforward!

Next is ～なければいけない／なきゃいけない

This is used to say when something has to/must be done. ねければ is the more formal version and its more often seen in the written language while なきゃいけない is more colloquial and mainly found in the spoken language. To conjugate, you need your verb in the present negative form. For example:

勉強する＞勉強しない＞勉強しなきゃいけない

作る＞作らない＞作らなければいけない

歌う＞歌わない＞歌わなきゃいけない。

待つ＞待たない＞待たなければいけない

食べる＞食べない＞食べなきゃいけない

Let's do some practice sentences!

火曜日に日本語の試験（しけん）があるので、たくさん勉強しなければいけません／いけない。Because I have a japanese exam on tuesday, i must study a lot.

もうすぐ母は家に帰るので、車を洗わなきゃいけません。Because my mom is returning home soon, i have to wash the car.

食べすぎたので運動しなければいけません。Because I ate too much, I must exercise.

今、私の双子はフランスに住んでいるので、手紙（てがみ）を送らなきゃいけません。Because my twin is living in France right now, I must send letters.

熱があって、喉（のど）が痛（いた）いので、薬を飲まなければいけません。Because I have a fever and my throat hurts, I must take medicine.

And that's about it! Congratulations reader, you got through (almost) all the genki lessons!! Here's to another successful semester. 頑張れる！！

Let's move on to the midterm review. Do you have your pencil and paper ready? (bonus points if you write the kanji)

Our midterm review was in the format of a story. 始めましょう

You are an exchange student in tokyo. You are on your way back to Tokyo from a one day trip to Oze. The train stopped half way for a while due to a minor road accident. You get bored, so you start talking to a woman/man sitting next to you. The person asks you “where are you from?” how would you say this in japanese?

出身（しゅっしん）はどこですか。

Ask the person has ever been to foreign countries

外国（がいこく）に行ったことがありますか。

The person commented that your Japanese is very good. Be humble like Japanese people and say “No, no. I have to study more”

いいえいいえ。もっと勉強（べんきょう）しなければいけません。／勉強しなきゃいけません。

Go on to say “i want to become better at japanese”

日本語がもっと上手（じょうず）になりたいです。

The train finally starts moving. You ask the person where they are going now. The person says, “I wanted to buy clothes. I'm going home now.”

ふくを買いたかったんです。でも、今から家に帰ります。

The person continues to say, “I need to cook tonight because my mother is sick.”

母がかぜをひいているので、今晩（ばん）料理（りょうり）しなければいけません。／しなきゃいけません。

You ask the person if his/her mother is all right. The person tells you, “she caught a cold and has a fever. But she is okay.”

かぜをひいて、ねつがあるんです。でも大丈夫ですよ。

The person goes on to say, “but she’d better not work today. She should sleep a lot.”

今日は働かないほうがいいですね。たくさん／よく寝たほうがいいですよ。

I wrote down たくさん while my teacher wrote よく and i was a little confused but i think you can use either.

You ask the person what dish you are good at making. The person answers i often make curry rice, pork cutlet, tempura, and so on

よくカレーライスやとんかやてんぷらを作ります。

The person asks you if you cook a lot. Tell the person that “I want to cook more but I am too busy.”

もっと料理したいですが、いそがしすぎます。／いそがしすぎるんです。

The person tells you that they have to do an English homework assignment. You ask the person what they do in class. she/he says, “we read english books, write essays, listen to the news, and so on.”

私たちは英語の本を読みたり、作文（さくぶん）を書いたり、ニュースを聞いたりします。

You ask the person if they practice speaking as well. The person says, “I took the conversation class for a month but I quit.”

一ヶ月間（いっかげつかん）、会話のじゅぎょうをとりました。でもやめました。／とりましたが、やめました。

The person says, “the teacher's english was too fact! But I am interested in English conversation.”

先生の英語は早すぎたんです。／早すぎました。でも、英語の会話にきょうみがあります。

（（に）きょうみがあります＝to have an interest in)

You offer some help. You tell the person that you can be his/her English conversation partner. You both decide to tutor English and Japanese to each other. You get off the train in a happy mood.

The next day your advisor at school tells you that you looked very happy. Yell your advisor with a lot of excitement, “i met a fantastic woman/man on the train yesterday!! We will practice English and japanese!!” (hint- use んです）

昨日、電車ですてきな女の人／男の人に会ったんです！私たち／いっしょに英語と日本語をれんしゅうするんです。

How’d you do? Comment how much you got! I'd love to see your scores. If You didn't get them, no sweat! A lot of my answers were different from what my teacher wrote..

I want to apologize if these lessons feel rushed. I'm trying to not make them feel that way.

じゃあ、皆さん、お疲れ様！！

今日の歌は&TEAM - UNDER THE SKINです。

Notice any errors? Lmk!! I always want to fix my mistakes so I can learn better. ありがとう！

#japanese #language #language learning #にほんご #日本語 #study blog #studyblog #日本語勉強 #日本語を勉強 #blog

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eliteprepsat · 4 months

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Don’t procrastinate (it only makes things worse). Eat well. Exercise regularly. Get a good night’s sleep.

All of these are vital—and common—pieces of advice that will help you manage all forms of stress, academic and otherwise.

As anyone who has struggled with academic stress likely knows, each of these points is easier said than done. What I think is often missing from such advice is an account of the mental and emotional hurdles that can get in the way of effective time and health management.

Maybe you struggle with anxiety or depression, or maybe you have family or other health issues that make sleep or exercise really difficult to come by. Stress is often a symptom of circumstances that need their own forms of management.

But stress is also often a learned pattern of thinking, one that we need to unlearn if we’re going to get things done.

YOU’RE PROBABLY WRONG

“You cannot get stressed out unless you believe your thoughts,” explains Susan Stiffelman, a licensed psychotherapist and author of Parenting Without Power Struggles. “All stress is precipitated by stressful thinking.”

Often, we convince ourselves that the tasks ahead of us are more difficult than they need to be. If you’re a perfectionist especially, you probably impose impossibly high standards on yourself and your work that may engender procrastination.

After all, why spend the next 30 minutes trying to produce absolutely perfect work when you can just let your mind wander on Snapchat?

When Stiffelman warns against believing your own thoughts, she is suggesting that we question our assessments of what we have in front of us. Next time you’re stressed out over an exam, a paper, or college applications, try listing reasons why your assessment of the situation might be incorrect.

Do you have a record of academic success? Have you succeeded in the past on projects that you found daunting? If the answer to either of these is “yes,” then there’s a good chance you’ve misread your current situation.

Sometimes, there’s freedom in getting things wrong.

BREAK IT DOWN

But even if you are correct, and if what lies ahead is very difficult work, pausing to consider why a given project is difficult—and writing out the reasons—often reveals a range of sub-tasks that are far less difficult than the project as a whole.

This is why Stiffelman also advises breaking tasks down into small chunks.

In my own experience, to-do lists are lifesavers. List out the tasks ahead and break these down into the smallest possible tasks.

One student of mine wrote out everything she needed to do on sticky notes and then threw the notes away as she completed each task. But if you want to avoid wasting paper—and I think you should—an app like Todoist is just as good for laying out a roadmap and for checking off items as you go.

⏱️ TIMING IS EVERYTHING

Let’s say you need to write an important paper for an English class. Your to-do list might look something like this:

Read the assignment [Monday]

Decide which text(s) I’m going to focus on [Monday]

Read my notes on that text [Tuesday]

Find 3-4 quotations from the text that seem relevant [Tuesday]

Draft a thesis [Tuesday]

See if the thesis goes well with the quotations I’ve chosen [Tuesday]

If not, find other quotations or revise the thesis

Draft an introduction [Wednesday]

Draft the first body paragraph [Wednesday]

Draft the second body paragraph [Thursday]

Draft the third body paragraph [Thursday]

Draft the fourth body paragraph [Thursday]

Draft the conclusion [Thursday]

Review my topic sentences [Friday]

Review my transitions [Friday]

Read the entire draft [Friday]

Check that the body paragraphs correspond with the thesis

Check that the body paragraphs proceed in a logical order

Make necessary revisions [Saturday]

Proofread the essay [Saturday]

Writing an entire paper can seem daunting, but reading the assignment is easy. Deciding which text to focus on isn’t too hard, either. Even drafting a thesis isn’t all that bad. Taken together, writing an entire paper might seem like a difficult task. But, when broken into small chunks, the job is much simpler than it seems.

Notice that I’ve given each task a day of the week. It’s important to recognize that your time is limited. If you give yourself a rough timeline, you can kind of mechanize the process a bit and give yourself peace of mind that you’re on track. Remember to stay flexible—adjust as you go, when needed, since some tasks might be more difficult than you first anticipated.

🍫 TREAT YOURSELF TO TRAIN YOURSELF

Keep yourself motivated by giving yourself a reward for each task or pair of tasks that you knock off your to-do list.

You’re always practicing, always training yourself. You’re not all that different from a dog who learns how to do tricks. Just like a poodle, you need positive reinforcement to train your mind and body that getting things done is good.

If you practice being anxious with a stomach ache while writing, you’ll get really good at being anxious with a stomach ache while writing. But if you practice breaking writing down into small sub-tasks and rewarding yourself—with dessert or a video game or something else you love—you’ll learn to associate getting things done with feeling good.

In sum: change your thinking, make to-do lists, chart out a rough schedule, and reward yourself along the way.

But of course, remember to avoid procrastinating, eat well, exercise regularly, and get a good night’s sleep. Those truisms are true, after all.

#studyblr #study tips #productivity #high school #college #go to college #work ethic

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howlingday · 1 year

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For the Ask game: #3, 4, 6, 7

3. On a scale of 1-10, how much do you enjoy incorporating romance into the average story?

Unfortunately, I suffer from a very, very rare psychological condition known simply as "Ship-Brain". I see the slightest interaction between two characters, and my brain thinks of them doing cute things.

However, I remember a really good piece of advice for romance. The question is, "Why can't they be together now?" The best example I can think of for incorporating romance is the Night Angel "Shadows" trilogy between Kylar and Doll Girl.

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4. What is the plot bunny you've been carrying for the longest? BONUS: Do you ever wonder why you haven't written it yet and experience existential dread?

Plot bunny? Uh, one sec...

Oh! You mean a story idea that never came out? Yeah, I have a couple of those. The one I've held the longest is probably the first and only legitimate story I thought of for a young adult fantasy novel. As for why I haven't written it, it's probably because I don't know the first thing about writing a real book, how it gets published, and a bunch of nihilistic rocks rattling in my skull. Still, whenever I get the urge to write it down, I write it onto a piece of scratch paper that I inevitably lose.

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6. Do you have any kind of consistent writing schedule, or just hoping for the best?

It usually depends on my work. If I have free time, I'll try to work on a project bit by bit. If nothing else, I'll at least get the first paragraph done. The best time for me to do this is in my car, for an hour, on my phone, before work.

This past week was the worst because I had the bright idea to push myself in my muay thai class, resulting in me sleeping in late and having no time for my hour-long drafting. Going to bed at midnight doesn't help either.

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7. Tell us about the plot of the first fan fic you ever wrote.

Ooh, now that takes me back...

I'll start with the first fan fic I ever published, which is "Lie Ren Goes To The Market" on FanFiction.Net. At the time, FF.net had a rule about how the first fic couldn't be above a "T-for-Teen" rating. So I chose a simple story about Ren going to Vale for a weekly chore. Most interesting experience from this was when an actual english professor corrected my grammar! Talk about a shock!

Now, as for the first fic I ever wrote, it was an anime chatroom. Yeah, it was that kind of cringe. My friend and I would write Naruto Chat Room stories and share them with each other. I would then watch Naruto Chat Room videos on YouTube like they were got dang soap operas! The plot didn't really exist; it was all more randomness than anything.

#my answers #writing #ask game

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appl-cider · 1 year

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Notes App

While I write most of my chapter notes on paper, sometimes I'll be out and about when I get an idea for a line or a scene or something, so I'll just jot them down into my notes app. My phone is on the verge of breaking at the moment, so I'm just gonna share some of them here.

There's not a whole lot of cohesion between these, mostly undeveloped ideas or stray thoughts. Some have already been developed into ideas in my fics, others I might use later. I just like laying out my thoughts, so hopefully you get something out of reading them. I don't remember writing most of them, but I'll give a bit of context for the ones I do.

There's no warning for when good things end; one day you're in the middle of things, the next day it's all over. (April 2nd, 2023)

I don't think anyone understands me, as cliché as that may sound. but that doesn't mean I'm misunderstood, that people have the wrong idea of me. I just don't think they have any idea at all. And maybe that's comforting, because I don't think I have any idea at all either. (April 11th, 2023)

I think my biggest weakness will always be my ability to stay hopeful. It's not a flaw (it's actually gotten me through some tough times), but I find it o easy to manipulate myself into believing that, even when met with crumbling failure, anything is possible. But sometimes that just isn't true, yet I try to think otherwise. (April 12th, 2023)

This one was written in a car park. I think I had seen a girl whom had turned me down a few months prior and part of me wondered if we could ever have some kind of relationship, platonic or other. We couldn't, but that didn't stop me from thinking about it. I realised I wanted to emulate this feeling in one of my stories, somehow, so I wrote it down.

I can't wait until all this is past me, when I can look back on these times as a wonderful memory. Because when nostalgia makes my nose run and eyes water like pollen on a summer afternoon, I will say: "What a violent, tender, blissful young heart I kept." But not really; I want to keep this heart forever, even though it hurts a lot. (April 13th, 2023)

I wrote this in an English class. I have hay fever and there was a lot of pollen in the air that day, so my eyes were all puffy and teary. I think it made me want to be young forever.

Maybe this is bad but I sometimes wish something terrible would happen to me. i wish I would break my wrist and have to get a cast, because it would be a conversation starter. People would see the cast and they'd be like "Oh wow, she broke her wrist, that's really interesting, I should talk to her." That's what I need: a conversation starter, grafted to my body so that I might finally be interesting. (April 27th, 2023)

I have really bad social anxiety, so starting conversations is a real challenge for me. I don't actually want to break my wrist, but I'd like if I had a reason for people to approach me. instead of the other way around. it would make my life a hell of a lot easier.

I have feelings for her, not in the romantic way. But it's not platonic; platonic is safe, it's static and standard. This is raw and exposed, it's something that makes my emotions bleed from my mouth, not in pain but in vulnerability. And I hope some of it spills from my lips and trickles down to her chin, like the juice from an orange slice. (May 7th, 2023)

Wrote this on a bus at 2am, sat beside one of my closest friends. This isn't how I feel about her, and I doubt it's how she feels about me; I wish it was how we felt about each other, it would make my life a tad easier, I think.

I wish that for a second you looked at me how I look at you, as in you see through my eyes and I can stand in your shoes. (June 6th, 2023)

Gender envy's a bitch, especially when you wanna kiss the girl.

That's all, for now at least. I'll probably dump some more notes another time. Much love.

#writing #writer #notes #quotes

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3milesup · 1 year

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FANFICTION AND I

(aka just me being mushy, i'm annoyingly prone to sentimental rants, feel free to scroll past^^)

The other day i was reminiscing on my journey to writing other than original stories. You see, i barely knew what internet was, let alone the term fanfiction, not because i am that ancient but simply because it wasn't in my lifestyle to navigate the net, no smartphones and i was either outdoor or buried in the books. And just so it happened that i wrote an additional chapter along the lines of Everybody Lives/Nobody Dies for a novel which ending i was upset about. I still have it and i still love it, because it was so in line with the narrator's style, not to brag or anything just that having nailed the tone has left me with such an oddly satisfying feeling which i have been treasuring for half of my life by now.

Fast forward, let's leave out the very traumatic event of actually discovering fanfiction online and wanting to burn the computer in a cleansing ritual, incense and candles and stuff, then limiting myself to avoiding straying far from game websites and youtube, then somehow discovering AO3, i swear i don't recall what fandom had me so invested that i willingly went in search of fanfic for it, but i have no regrets... And then starting reading more of it and writing more of it and eventually deciding to try and share it with the world...

(Now, think of all this as stretched over quite a few years.)

And then, at the uni, this weird professor who did one thing right and it was giving us this homework, made us write a scene for a film we watched in the class. It was a film i had seen before and i loved it a lot, so i had a bunch of feelings about it and when he gave us this sheet with the last line of the movie script printed on top of the page for us to take it from there, i had to keep myself from jumping with joy. The professor liked my homework and i don't know where it's ended up but it must be amongst my uni papers and i keep telling myself that one day i will go through them all and find it, because it is another one of those works that felt just right, like something fell into place. Like an ornament in the corner of a mirror, that no one misses if it's not there, but it can make it nicer.

They were both simple gen slices of life, so to speak, characters reuniting and/or contemplating their lives and the times they were living in, little stories that no-one except me (and my professor in the second case) has read and yet they have left an indelible imprint on my heart, because that is where they came from.

And i believe that is what has me going as a fanfic writer. Those moments of the "missing puzzle piece" feeling, the spark of joy when i find the right tone, choose the right pace, manage to compliment the awesome source material and profess my love and appreciation for it, draw a little flowery ornament in the corner instead of shattering the mirror because i don't like what i'm seeing... i still write my original stories, of course, and they are extremely dear to me, but the extension of a preexisting canon is a whole different challenge and a one i hope i will never stop chasing and listening to and following through with, because there is already and will always be so much wonderful art to delve into, have fun with and pay homage to...

Good time of day to anyone who made it till here, my brain is melted so i hope to make sense.

3milesup out^^ <3

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rachaelwilterdink · 4 months

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How to Earn IIBA®’s CBAP® Certification

I was recently chatting with another Business Analyst colleague, who was interested in learning more about certification. I figured I had already written a blog about this, but when I searched my own site, I discovered that wrote a blog about the benefits of certification, but I somehow missed writing about my actual experience in earning the CBAP® designation from the International Institute of Business Analysis® (which is one of the greatest accomplishments of my professional life). So, to remedy this gap, here’s my guide to getting certified as a Business Analysis Professional!

Join the IIBA®

The best thing any Business Analyst can do to move their career forward is to become a member of the IIBA®. This is the organizing body of the profession, established in 2003, and the benefits of being a member are incredible. I recently wrote a blog citing my Top 10 membership benefits, so be sure to check it out.

As it specifically relates to certification, as a member, you have access to a free copy of the Guide to the Business Analysis Book of Knowledge® (BABOK®), which is the main reference material for the exam. As a member, you also get to take the exam at a discounted rate. Subsequent recertification fees are also reduced for members.

Review the CBAP® Handbook

The next step is for you to download the CBAP® Handbook from the IIBA®’s website. This is your step-by-step guide to the process of applying for and taking the exam. Interestingly, it looks like the requirements have changed since I sat for the CBAP® (originally earned in 2015). When I took the exam, the minimum required education was a high school diploma. Previously, (if I remember correctly) if you had a bachelor’s degree, you needed half the number of experience hours. Now, the CBAP® handbook doesn’t even reference educational requirements, and the experience requirements appear to be the same for all candidates.

Do the Work and Document Your Experience

To be eligible to sit the CBAP® exam, the IIBA® expects you to have at least five years of experience, with 7,500 hours of work history within the past 10 years. So, don’t even think about going for the CBAP® if you haven’t put in the time. There are other levels of certifications you may still be qualified for that would be worthwhile considering while get the necessary experience hours (ECBA™ and CCBA®). I didn’t do either of these certifications, but the prep class I took used the same materials and was the same course for people preparing for either the CCBA® or CBAP®.

Get 35 Professional Development Hours

Another requirement for being eligible for the exam is earning 35 professional development hours. There are plenty of prep courses and boot camps out there that will get you the hours you need and prepare you for the exam at the same time. That’s what I did, which can be pricey (fortunately, many companies will pay for this), but it’s not the only path. Check out IIBA®’s list of options that can help you get the hours you need. Keep in mind that you have to earn these credits before you apply!

Line up Two References

A unique requirement of the CBAP® is having two professional references who vouch for you. The IIBA® is specific about who you can use for a reference – it has to be people who have known you at least six months, and acted as your supervisor/career manager, or is an internal or external client you have worked with, or someone who already has either the CCBA® or CBAP®. So, nope - your peers and friends won’t suffice as your references.

Fill Out the Application

I always tell anyone who asks me that the application process for the CBAP® is half the battle when it comes to earning this designation. You should feel good that you didn’t have to do this “back in the day” when it was a paper application. The online application has also improved over the years, too, so it’s much easier to complete than in the past. All of that said, it’s still a daunting task. To qualify for the exam, you must align your experience with the knowledge areas of the BABOK® and have a minimum of 900 of those hours completed within four of the six knowledge areas (for a total of at least 3,600 of the total 7,500 hours required). It’s a lot. You must remember every job you’ve ever had, every project you’ve ever worked on, and what business analysis work you did on each. It’s intense and time-consuming. You’re extremely lucky if you have only worked at one company and they happen to have a time-tracking system with your work recorded – in this case, you can just do a data dump that will speed things up dramatically. Most people aren’t that lucky, though.

Pay the Application Fee and Submit

Another unique requirement from the IIBA® is that you must pay even to have your application considered. As of this writing, the cost in USD to apply is $145. Also keep in mind that it’s non-refundable. If approved, you then have three attempts within one year from your application’s approval. You get two re-takes, but you must pay for each attempt. And, if your application lapses, you get to start all over again! So, if you get this far, don’t let it be for nothing!

If You are Approved, Pick a Target Date

It can take a few days (or more) to get an answer on whether your application is approved. This is a seriously stressful time – trust me. When I went through this, it seemed like there was great variability in how long it took to hear back. I’m guessing it’s more automated now, so I would anticipate most people would get a response quickly. Hopefully, you’ll get the message that your application has been approved, and the email will provide you with instructions for the next steps. Just getting approved to take the exam is a huge accomplishment, in my book, so have your first mini celebration when you know you’ve passed the first step!

Then, choose a target date for taking the exam that is less than a year from the date of your approval. Having a date on the calendar will give you a sense of urgency and give you a starting point to work backward from when building your study plan.

What to do if you are Not Approved

I didn’t experience this personally, but I wouldn’t be surprised if this happened often. Like I said before, the application is extremely rigorous and it’s easy to miss things. Don’t be discouraged if you do get rejected – I assume the IIBA® will tell you what was missing or wrong, and then you can remedy the problem and re-apply. But, again, you’ll have to pay for another application, so you’d be better off double-checking your original application to make sure you nailed it.

Create your Study Plan

With a target date picked, it’s easy to lay out your study plan on a calendar. Everyone has their own best way of learning, so hopefully you know what yours is, and your study plan will reflect the activities that work best for you. Attend a Boot Camp I was fortunate enough to have my company’s support and they sent me to a preparation boot camp. Not only did this earn me the necessary 35 Professional Development hours, but it also gave me a good guide to the contents of the BABOK® and tips on how to pass the test. This was a great supplementary material that I used in my studies. Absorb the BABOK® However, my primary focus was going chapter by chapter of the BABOK®, with more attention on the knowledge areas, of course. I also didn’t follow the order of the materials in the BABOK® because it’s not meant to be a sequential process – I decided what made most logical sense to me and proceeded accordingly. As I was going through each part of the BABOK®, I created a question/answer spreadsheet that I uploaded to a study site called Cram.com, which made it easy (and fun) to drill. Buy a Prep Book There are a couple of good prep books that different business analysis experts have published. I would pick one of these up (be sure to read other readers’ feedback before buying). Some also come with subscriptions to sites with practice exams, flashcards for drilling, etc. Books like these can help make the materials of the BABOK® more accessible. Take Practice Exams As part of my boot camp course, I also had access to Watermark Learning’s practice exam and used that heavily to gauge my weak areas so I would know where to focus my studies, along with my readiness and confidence to take the actual test. This company has since been acquired, so I'm not certain whether their online exam simulation is still available. I also found other sample of practice exams and worked those into my plan.

Study Every Day

Once you have your plan in place and your study materials, the best thing you can do is study every day. Yes, you read that right – study every single day. This is not easy stuff to absorb, and the best way to do it (besides being an active practitioner) is to drill it daily. If you try to cram for an exam like this, it’s doubtful that you’ll pass, and you’ll certainly stress yourself out. Stick to the tortoise and the hare rule – slow and steady wins the race.

Pay for and Schedule the Exam

You may never truly feel “ready” to take an exam like the CBAP®, just because of the sheer volume of knowledge and experience you must have. But that’s why having a date (and a deadline – remember you must sit the exam within a year of your approval) will force you to do it anyway. When you decide to schedule the test, dig up your approval email and follow the instructions. Proctored Online Taking the test online wasn’t an option when I earned the CBAP®, but due to the wonders of technology (and maybe COVID), the exam is now available to take online. You will be proctored, which means you will be watched as you take the test, and there are pros and cons to doing it this way. I have taken a few other similar exams, and you may run into technical issues (which I did), your environment must be perfectly spotless, and you’ve got to have a rock-solid internet connection. If you’re worried about any of these things going wrong, you might be better off going to a testing center. When things go wrong (and they always can), it will increase your stress level and may cause you to bomb the exam. In-person Testing Center Although taking the exam at home might seem easier, a test center has its drawbacks, too. When you arrive, they treat you like a criminal – you must get “wanded,” empty your pockets, take off all your jewelry and such, and put everything in a locker. It’s a little bit like being in a library in a private cubicle, but with cameras and people watching you. So, stressful doesn’t even begin to describe it. But, if you go this route, at least you can’t be blamed if something goes wrong with the technology. Another nice thing is that when you pass, you get a certificate immediately.

Take the Exam and Pass

The actual process of taking the exam is where the rubber meets the road. A lot of trainers will recommend you use a single allowed piece of paper or whiteboard to do a brain dump. I didn’t do this because I think this is a tool used more for crammers than people who took the time to study slowly and steadily. Answer All the Questions and Guess if you Must A top tip I remember from my boot camp is that it’s best to answer all the questions, even if you’re not sure about the answer. If you skip a question, you have zero chance of getting it right; if you make your best educated guess, you at least have some chance. Flag Questions to Come Back to Regardless of whether you’re taking the test online or in a center, you can flag questions you’re unsure about so you can come back to them later. Use this feature. You don’t want to waste too much time on any one question, and if you flag a question, you can come back to it if you have time. The system makes it easy to go right back to any questions you flagged. Your First Instinct is Usually the Best Choice Another tip I recall from my boot camp is that your first instinct is usually the best choice, so it’s best not to overthink things. If you change an answer, chances are that you’re changing it to a wrong choice, so it’s best to go with your gut. Watch the Clock and Pace Yourself It is best to be aware of how much time you have remaining – the system usually displays a ticker showing you how much time is left. Try to aim for having a certain number of questions answered by a certain time, and speed up or slow down accordingly. Review if You Have Time If you get through all the questions and have adequate time remaining, go back through all the questions. Make sure you didn’t miss any. Guess on ones you aren’t sure of, using your best educated guess. Only change an answer if you are 100% certain you should. Submit! When you are done, hit the “Submit” button (or whatever it’s called). Don’t be alarmed if you receive a survey before you see your test result – this is incredibly annoying, but it ensures you fill the stupid thing out. It might take a few seconds, but after the system has processed your exam, if you did well, you’ll see a congratulations message. I don’t remember seeing any other words on the screen than “Congratulations!” Then, take a deep breath – you did it!

Celebrate!

Don’t forget to celebrate and share the news! Earning the CBAP® is no small feat, and it shows that you are among the elite in the profession.

What to do if you don’t Pass

I know plenty of people who didn’t pass on the first attempt. If this happens to you, don’t despair – there’s a reason this certification is so well-respected and difficult to achieve. You can take the test again, and now that you know what the experience is like, you know better what to expect so you can be prepared. You have up to two more attempts, so study again and focus on your weak areas. Don’t let a failed attempt stop you from moving forward – you can do this!

Good Luck!

I hope this guide is useful in your own journey toward earning the CBAP® designation. It’s not easy, but it’s well worth the effort. If anyone else has additional tips, please let me know in the comments below! Read the full article

#analysis #business #cbap #Certification #certified #IIBA #profession

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amarantine-amirite · 8 months

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Pumpkin Dilemma

I've never had a date with James where it was just us. We always went on a double date.

So far, we've shared our dates with his parents, his brother and the weird goth girl whose name escapes me, and my grandfather and the bikini model. I haven't really gotten to know whether my relationship with James is going to last past high school. To be honest, I don't think it will last to the end of the month. Based on what I've seen with his parents and brother, the odds look grim.

This is our fourth date. This time, we're going pumpkin picking. We're doubling with Boris and Angela. Boris is James's father's boss's son, and Angela is some poor girl with terrible executive functions.

"This'll be fun," Boris said, "Why don't we carve pumpkins anymore?"

"I haven't carved pumpkins since the sixth grade," I said.

James tipped his head to one side "What changed? Isabel," he asked me, "I kind of want to know"

"Well," I began, "some kid in my class who couldn't wipe without bemoaning the plight of those employed by the toilet paper industry gave a speech about how she found carving pumpkins on Halloween to be deeply triggering."

Angela laughed, "What was her problem?"

"She insisted it brought back memories of the Great Pumpkin Massacre."

That comment opened a window into how Gracie behaved. At first, I thought it was a joke. She insisted it wasn't. Next, I thought she meant the time that four unknown students destroyed 40 pumpkins grown by the eighth-grade class for the school's upcoming fall festival. She showed me a headline referring to something else: Killer In Helmet Made Of Jack-O-Lantern Stabs 500 To Death.

Long story short, it wasn't pumpkins that had been massacred. It was people. And she was a survivor. It then occurred to me that she got offended by everything in sight because people wrote off her trauma as a joke. Everybody's going to laugh if you survive something known as the Great Pumpkin Massacre.

It's been years since I carved a pumpkin. It seems pretty straightforward. First, you get a pumpkin. Then you draw your design. You then cut a hole in the pumpkin, remove the guts, and then cut out the shapes. Finally, you put your handiwork out on the front porch and hope the squirrels don't massacre the results.

Getting the pumpkin is not as easy as it sounds. You can get a pumpkin at either a pumpkin patch or a retailer like a hardware or grocery store. The problem is that the store only operates from 10:00 a.m. to 3:00 p.m. If you can get in, you won't be able to figure out where the hell they keep the pumpkins. Even if by some miracle you do manage to find them, the pumpkins are expensive and not very good.

Most people go to a pumpkin patch. Not only do pumpkin patches have better stock, but you also get a classic fall experience. That's both a good and a bad thing. Most pumpkin patch operators are sick of badly-mannered morons swarming to get yet another photo for whatever dumb IG account they have, so they restrict walk-ins. Pumpkin patches only let in group events like corporate team building, weddings, bachelor parties, and the like. Not only do those folks behave themselves, they make more money catering to those groups. Kids under the age of 18 aren't allowed unless they're with a school group.

And the result? You end up waiting in line for four hours to pick pumpkins. And depending on how thoroughly this place checks IDs, we could essentially be waiting for nothing.

Angela looked around. The line didn't seem to move. "Do you see a problem?" she asked us. We could see her getting frustrated

"What problem?" James asked.

"This line." Angela groaned, "What if the pumpkin patch doesn't exist?"

Boris sat there with a confused look on his face, looking confused. "How...how could it not exist?" he asked.

Angela bounded up and down on her toes and launched into a rant. "We went to Boston last year for my grandpa's 100th birthday, and we wanted to go to this restaurant called Original Spanish Kitchen. Original Spanish Kitchen had five stars from no less than 100 distinct reviews. There were tons of photos of the place on TripAdvisor, Wikipedia, and the like. We called them and they answered the phone. Can't miss, right?"

"So how was it?" I asked.

"It didn't exist! When we arrived at the address, the cashier couldn't figure out why we'd have a dinner reservation at a fishing store."

James had no idea what Angela was talking about. "What's your point?"

Angela huffed, "My point is pictures on the internet don't make it real. And that's why I can't wait for something. What if it doesn't exist?"

I saw where Angela came from. I also have an aversion to waiting in line.

It happened when we were in Los Angeles for a vacation. I couldn't have been older than four. Me, my father, and my two cousins waited in line at Taco Bell for about an hour and a half. The line stretched back to an intersection a mile away, holding up the traffic. If I recall correctly, a family of Canadian tourists ordered a sandwich without the bread, and the request slowed operations down to a crawl.

At the point where we were third in line to place our order, Dad took us back to the hotel. We turned on the TV and saw a news story about a robbery at the Taco Bell. The robbers started to take hostages. The whole thing taught me that waiting in long lines was more trouble than it was worth.

Angela and I asked James and Boris to save our spots and went up to the front. We discovered an empty tent and a van with the NYU Faculty of Psychology logo on it. Two people sat in the van, apparently keeping track of how many people left the line.

Angela was right. The pumpkin patch wasn't real. From the looks of it, it appeared to be a psychology experiment intended to measure how long people will wait in line for something before they decide they're wasting their time and leave.

The next day, I saw a news story about a bar fight at a sports bar in Trenton, New Jersey being connected to an NYU psychology experiment. Besides the sports bar in Trenton, the researchers set up shop at an upscale restaurant in Toronto, Ontario, Canada, a Christmas tree farm in Sherbrooke, Quebec, Canada, and the pumpkin patch that we went to. Honestly, the whole thing felt more like a prank than an experiment.

@scealaiscoite

#writing #writers #writers on tumblr #short fiction #short story

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nentonscreativespot · 1 year

Text

"Cold"

Word count: 1,204 Type: Sudden Fiction Original Upload Date: 2nd of July, 2020

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It’s BOOOORING! Everything’s boring! Yet I go here anyway because I’m obligated to. I already know that stuff already, now can I go to sleep? Well, of course not. Anyways, it seems like Josef’s bored too. He’s slouching, impatiently waiting for all of it to end, er, for the remaining hour to pass. I wrote something down on a piece of paper, crumpled down the said piece of paper, and threw it at Josef. “Seriously?” he mouthed, glaring at me. “Read” I mouthed back. He opens it, then writes his response on the same paper. He then threw the paper ball so hard it would have gone past me had I not managed to block it with my right palm. I expected a long answer from him, but the only thing he wrote there was ‘no.’ W- how can he only write ‘no’? He used to explain everything even on this paper. And on top of that, he just refused to cut classes with me. That’s a first. Really, what has gotten into him? He won’t talk to me anymore, or what, let alone join me in my /antics/. It was fun! What happened to that?

The bell signalling recess finally decided to ring. Disappointed at Josef’s rejection, I just decided to eat at the cafeteria instead, albeit ending up only ordering a small meal. Josef sits at the same table I was in, shocked at the sight of my face but brushes it off, only wishing to eat. “Excuse me, but do I know you?” I ask with a half joking tone. “What is it now?” he answers in a grumpy manner before placing the spoon filled with rice and /adobo/ inside his mouth. “I don’t know, perhaps you’re an impostor pretending to be Josef Cruz while the real one’s locked in your shed,” I answer, again with that half joking tone. “Really funny. Look, I want to start fresh this year. I’ll be one of those “good boys” you hate so much,” he replies monotonously while still avoiding eye contact with me. “My, have you grown BOOOORING!” I said. “And you’ve grown even more childish, Will. Just because you get away with all your antics doesn’t mean everyone does,” he answers with a rising tone. I then silently continued eating what little I had on my plate. It seems like he has no intention of talking to me more, either. Time flew by real fast when the bell signalling the next class rang.

After a series of boring classes that I have to be in, the hour of independence, er, dismissal finally arrives after what seemed like forever. Seeing as our houses are quite close to each other, Josef and I would usually walk home together, though since the school year started, which was several weeks ago, he won’t ever talk to me unless needed (e.g. schoolwork). He’s grown quite… cold… to me… It’s like he doesn’t know me anymore. Then what he said to me earlier cleared it all up… He didn’t want to get involved in any mess I might ever make… /It’s about that day, huh?/ After I managed to catch up to his fast pace of walking, I pretended to shiver like an idiot. “What is it now?” it’s clear that he’s not pleased with my presence as he was trying to brisk-walk away from me while also attempting not to make it obvious. “I don’t know why, but I feel like I’m walking beside some sort of air-conditioning machine,” my answer was met with a soft punch to my left shoulder. “That… was half-meant,” my tone turned into a serious one. He sighs loudly and speaks, “Don’t you get it? You’re a bad influence to me. I don’t wanna get into trouble this year. You know what happened last year. I don’t want that to happen again, so as much as possible I don’t want anything to do with you,” he answers coldly. “Point taken,” was my soft reply. I suddenly found myself a few meters behind him, with my head down and my legs shaking. /Leave him alone, will ya?/ the voice says. Refusing to listen to myself, I chase Josef. “Look,” Josef turns around, looking at me with cold eyes. “I haven’t been a good friend, I get it. I’ve, uhm, dragged you into a lot of trouble. But I only did that—” my voice showed my clear hesitation, but I wasn’t trying to hide it anyway, “―because when I first met you, I already felt that life wasn’t agreeing with you,” I finish my sentence.

“—?”

We first met during intermediate level. Specifically during my enrollment for 5th Grade. I was with my parents at the parents’ orientation. He was there with his father, too. Bored, I asked my mother to go outside of the classroom the orientation was being held. He happened to go outside for the same reason, too. I was the one to approach him, who was just looking— perhaps even staring― at whatever you called that square in the middle of the school building. You know, where they hold the Flag Ceremony and… well… Well, it’s /that/. Anyways, we had a bit of a chat. His tone was somehow gloomy. It was also like he was trying to avoid this conversation. Then we ended up in the same section for that school year. Eventually, we became close, and we learned of each others’ problems…

“Face it, Josef,” I gathered the courage to look straight into his eyes. “You had fun whenever I dragged you into one of my antics.” His eyes weren’t able to deny it. He was about to say something when I cut him off. “I, well, I now realize that it probably- no, it was /not/ the best way to do it, but I wanted to help you… directly by giving some advice, albeit sometimes impractical, and in another way… by taking your mind off of it,” I explained, as my head dropped down again while I scratched my right arm. “It didn’t turn out great, but I tried,” I added. “If you want me to stay away from you, I’ll do it, but I just wanted you to know that,” I tried turning to a different corner from the one I usually would just to get out of his way. “WAIT!” he called out as I turned around. “I still wanna hang out with you, but I can’t have you constantly getting in trouble,” he said as I approached him. “And if I try not to get in trouble, should that suffice to you?” I asked. “Perhaps. Now stop using those big words to make yourself sound smart,” he said. “You do that as well,” I retaliated. What little time we had left before returning to our respective houses we spent by talking about random things. Soon, we arrived at my house. His house wasn’t that much far from my house, but you’ll spot mine before his if you come from our school. We parted, of course, and along with that, it felt like a big lump had been removed from my sternum. I’m glad we’re still friends. He’s the only one I’ve ever called ‘best friend.

#neverletmecookeveragain #???#waht

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