#I lowered in English and improved in math

[lowcallyfruity]

MY SCORE LOWERED IM GONNA. KI I L. MYSELF

[analytically]

What's wrong with the schools in California?

So I'm Californian, and they make all the high school students here take a test of their English and math skills the year before they graduate. But, uh, looking at the data from these tests, it's really bleak?

Across the whole state of California (where 40 million people live), only 27% of high school students met the math standards! That's really terrible — this means that over 70% of California high schoolers don't know enough math for "likely success in entry-level, credit-bearing college coursework after high school." I'm not totally clear what exact skills these are, but when I took the test it was mostly Algebra II and Geometry questions — the sort of thing you might need even if you don't go to college. And while I don't think everyone needs to go to college, 70% of the population not being prepared for college seems too high.

(more analysis, and pictures, below the read more!)

This isn't an artifact of the pandemic, either: 2019 data shows that 32% of 11th graders met math standards before COVID, and it actually went up to 34% in 2021 (there was no testing in 2020). That's interesting, considering that many schools were closed to in-person instruction during 2020. Proficiency rates in math have fluctuated between 27% and 34% since 2015, but there certainly hasn't been a clear trend of improvement.

If you're disabled, learning English, or in the foster-care system, you have a less than 5% chance of being proficient in mathematics after 12 years in the California school system! (Learning English at the same time as learning mathematics in English does seem really hard under any circumstances, so maybe that one's not totally the school system's fault, but 2.5% is still way too low! English learners are three times more likely to be proficient in English language arts than in math!)

"But analytically," you say, "maybe this isn't the schools' fault! Maybe the kids just lack resources because of poverty and inequality and such!" Well, yeah, that probably isn't helping, but it definitely doesn't explain the whole problem. 17% of kids that California considers "socioeconomically disadvantaged" meet math standards, but only 43% of non-socioeconomically disadvantaged kids do! So even among kids whose families are doing OK financially, most aren't proficient in math. However, they are 2.5 times more likely to be proficient than their lower-income peers. (Also, last time I checked, the job of the public school system was to provide a good education regardless of socioeconomic status!)

The numbers are pretty bad for English language arts too, but math is a lot worse (and also I've technically worked in math education, so this is sort-of in my wheelhouse).

So, I repeat: What's wrong with the schools in California? How can we fix it?

[wevelocityteampresents-blog]

Pokémon Pocket Monsters XY Volume 1 - Chapter 2

Red and his Pokémon spend some time at a school to avoid the summer heat.

The adventure in Kalos has just begun. And in the second chapter, we get yet another filler chapter. And by filler, I mean nothing important really happens in this story.

We're only 2 chapters into this saga, and the first place Red and the others go to is a school. And it's not like a Trainer's school like what we've seen in Pokémon Pocket Monsters RS and DP. Just your average school that teaches stuff like math and English. There could have been so many new story ideas Anakubo could've played with like fishing for Skrelp or Clauncher on Route 2 or having Clefairy hunt down Vivillon with rare patterns in Santalune Forest for a prize. But instead of anything like that happening, we're treated to what's essentially a sleepover in an abandoned school. (I guess Red, Clefairy, Pikachu, and Conkeldurr have become squatters now.)

Speaking of wasted ideas, we have our first appearance from Green after a few years of absence. His appearance in this chapter is brief and he's only there to give our heroes a conflict they'll have to resolve. 2 years away from the manga and this is the grand return he receives? There's also narrative issues revolving around Green's presence in this saga.

What's Green doing in the Kalos region? Why does he have a vacation home in Kalos? Is this his actual house? Is this story supposed to take place in Kanto? The manga won't answer any of that because why waste time trying to tell exciting, yet, hilarious stories when you can go skiing on a blackboard?

This isn't to say the chapter isn't entirely awful. For one, unlike its embarrassing predecessor, "Stay In School!" does away with the onslaught of exaggerated faces and uses them sparingly. This allows for some actual comedy that manages to get a chuckle out of me every few pages. It felt kind of nice to read a chapter of Pokémon Pocket Monsters XY that was genuinely pleasant to look at. If only this visual improvement was paired with a more engaging plot.

"Stay In School!" wasn't as bad as "New Pokémon Friends Appear!". But for the small improvements it presents, it is still riddled with plotholes, little to no attempts at gauging the interest of readers, and missed storytelling opportunities in what's supposed to be the latest saga of Pokémon Pocket Monsters. If the jokes aren't enough for you, this is one chapter you're not missing out on if you plan on skipping it.

I want to enjoy this series. I really do. But from what I've read so far, I'm still not impressed. No new Pokémon, no antagonists, not even a single Pokémon battle. It looks less like Red is on a journey to become the best or to expand his Pokémon collection and more like he's mucking around the country doing who knows what.

If Anakubo wanted to write an episodic comedy manga, I'd be perfectly fine with that. But this is Pokémon Pocket Monsters. A long-running manga that showcases a character on a journey with a specific goal in mind for him. When that part of the manga is tossed aside, it just becomes a shell of its former self and makes it difficult for a lot of long-time fans like myself to continue reading.

Maybe the manga will improve in a later chapter. (A MUCH later chapter.) But until I get to that specific chapter, the bar has been set incredibly low for me. And I only fear it'll get even lower as I keep reading.

TRANSLATOR'S NOTES

In what could be described as the most weirdest thing to happen in Pokémon Pocket Monsters, Pikachu actually speaks.

This is something that'll be kept as the manga continues. Pokémon like Pikachu won't be able to talk to other humans, but their words will still be shown. When translating this chapter, I wanted to make it a bit like Garfield. But after italicizing the text, it became a bit difficult to read. It wasn't until I read a few strips from a webcomic I used to enjoy called Random Doom that I wrote the Pokémon's sentences in parentheses. (It also matched with the original Japanese text.)

While this was an interesting change, it only makes my job more difficult than it needs to be.

[kohakhearts]

when people first meet me and inquire about my studies im generally hit with two different responses, being 1) “wow, that’s an unusual combination”/“you don’t see that often”/etc. and 2) “you must be SO smart!” (or its evil twin, “you must hate yourself ha-ha”), and while the first is obviously a better response than the second, both are kinda…awkward to react to.

like? IS it an unusual combination of interests, or is it actually that most institutions make it exceptionally difficult for people to pursue stem and arts concurrently? and that we don’t often talk about the heavy crossover between stem and the arts because we’re so culturally obsessed with this notion that the world is split into Art People and Science People (also known as English People and Math People)?

and how would my interest in a science make me any smarter than someone in my program who chose to pursue a minor in history instead of physics? also, NO, i don’t hate myself. obviously taking stem classes after spending years believing im “not a math person” has lowered my gpa, but that’s not really something i care about, because at the end of the day i find the subject endlessly fascinating and i enjoy my classes very much, and i get better at math every semester because i have no choice. because it’s just…a method of communication. it’s a language. you practice, you improve - but you have to be consistent and intentional about it. the same way you have to be consistent and intentional about analyzing fictional texts and historical documents.

which is to say that like. you are using the same skills. i tutored a high school student last year who looked at me like i was crazy for saying that close reading a short story is functionally the same as solving an algebra problem. you collect like terms. then you compare and contrast them to make a statement about them - it’s human nature to seek refuge in what is familiar even if it is simultaneously traumatic, or x = 2 and y = -2. you can chart it, you can graph it, you can draw it. listen, isn’t there something so inherently beautiful about the word integral? it’s something intrinsic, baked into a person or a thing - the fundamental values formed within you by tiny, infinitesimal pieces: moments, experiences - they coalesce into something completely different, but still. you can go back. you can find the pieces. define them, pick them apart, put them together again in new ways. expand them, contract them, equate them to something else just to understand them.

half the study of mathematics is called analysis, for god’s sake. what is the study of art if not analysis? is it not the goal of the artist, the writer, to make sense of our place in the world? and is this not what we do in physics, too? look at the world and try to find reason in it? as the poet spends their life trying to make the intangible tangible, the particle physicist attempts to study dark matter. when we form a sentence, we utilize a complex system of equations that are so second-nature to us we don’t even register that’s what we’re doing - but there’s a reason this branch of linguistics is called syntactic calculus.

like…believe me. if you told my teenage self i’d be taking calculus-based courses in university, i wouldn’t have believed it. i teach high school students now who tell me they know they aren’t good at english, but it doesn’t matter to them because they do so well in math. and i get it. i do. but it’s disappointing, too, because i think my knowledge of math has made me a better reader and writer. and it feels like most people are missing out on that connection, because they feel like it’s impossible to make. but any experimentalist can tell you there’s an art to the scientific process. any musician or poet can tell you that great art is dictated by numbers - rhythm, rhyme and metre, all of it. the only group of people as interested in conceptual symmetry as physicists are artists.

anyway, all i’m saying is like - one is not more essential than the other, these things are inextricably linked, these things are as fundamental to human existence as breathing. there’s a reason why astronomers defer to shakespeare to name newly discovered bodies in space, you know? we've all gotta learn to love the math in our art and the artistry behind math.

[chenxhen]

Being Above Average but of Average Social Standing

The Tao that can be trodden is not the enduring and unchanging Tao. The Tao-Path is not the All-Tao. The Name is not the Thing named. - Laozi, Tao Te Ching

I know I'm intelligent. I've never done an IQ test, because I believe it's just another unnecessary box people are placed into. But, growing up, I've been told by teachers and other intelligent people that I'm intelligent. I've always thought school was too easy, and was recommended into gifted programs. Everything from Math to English, I was either top of the class or close to the top. And I know I'm intelligent as well. I see it in the way I think and convey my thoughts. 

Apart from academic excellence, I also have many talents. My parents were very adamant on making me a "cultured" individual. I was placed into various extracurricular classes ever since I was four or five years old. Dance, visual arts, and vocal lessons were the ones I enjoyed the most, and also the ones that came most naturally to me. I also love to read and write prose and poetry. I grew up performing, and honing these skills. I'm very self-critical (another quality of intelligence), so I would always try to improve. I believe in the capacity of any human being to be able to do what any other human being can do. Of course, there are certain limitations resulting from our genes, but we're still all human beings. If one tries hard enough, the limits are boundless. 

I'm also quite good-looking. I've received many compliments, and I'm very confident in my appearance. I also dress well, work out, and take care of myself to maintain my appearance. 

And to add on top of all of this, I'm not a boring prude either. I know how to have fun. I'm quite witty, and I love to be silly. 

Now, I'm not saying all of this to boast. I'm not perfect, and I'm certainly not the best at everything. I can't play an instrument, sometimes it takes me a while to feel the beat of a song, I don't speak the most eloquently, and I certainly don't have model-like good looks. I'm aware of this. I see when other people are better in these ways. I always compliment people where they deserve to be. I was raised to be modest, humble, and to see the good in others. I'm just very well-rounded, and as a whole above average. 

Why does this matter, and why am I speaking on all of this? Well, despite excelling in many ways, I come from a very humble family, finances wise. As a result, my opportunities in life were always limited. Another crutch to this reality is that I'm a first generation immigrant. My parents and I came to Canada in 2007, after I had just completed first grade in China. We came here with very little money, and my parents had to restart their lives. They worked lower middle class or working class jobs to make ends meet. Our connections were limited to people in these sectors of society as well. The focus was always on making more money and climbing up the social ladder. This is why going to a good university, getting a good degree, a good job, and making a lot of money is so important to us. However, it created many problems for my up-bringing. 

My family was dysfunctional, the pressure was on me to dig us out of a hole I wasn't a part of digging, and I had very few friends. I had nothing material to show for my excellence. I'm also a female, with quite the baby face. People like to judge. Humans are superficial. And we create expectations of others in our minds out of these incorrect prejudices. When people first look at me, they more often than not think I'll be a weak, demure, and simple girl. They won't expect me to have all the abilities I hold. Whenever there's a disconnect between a person's expectations and realities, discomfort arises. It triggers a fight or flight response, because there's a sense of unfamiliarity and fear. The disconnect I cause in people's minds is probably quite great. People either love me or hate me because of it. All of this meant I had very little support from the people I most wanted support from - my family and my peers. I was intimidating to most people my age, and my family had very little time or money to spare me. 

As a result, I've always felt pressured to prove myself. There has always been such a great weight on my shoulders to do anything that would show people just how great I am, and what I can achieve beyond people's expectations of me. Eventually, I became drained. It's not easy when I'm able to see past what's in front of me and onto the bigger picture. I'm constantly helping others, when I lack the most support. I won't lie, some of this I did create for myself, because people just don't stimulate my brain enough, or aren't able to match up to me, and I don't feel comfortable asking those I consider "weaker" than me for help. 

At the age of 18, I began losing my mind to it all. I had very little friends - if any I considered close, I wasn't doing what I wanted, and I became depressed. I had just gotten into university, but it quickly dawned on me that this wasn't what I wanted at all. I was doing all of this in search of something that was in actuality meaningless to me. I don't care about money or status. All I want is to live a simple life, and let the days pass me by stress-free. I transferred out of several university programs, dropped out completely, and went to college instead. It made me feel incredibly insecure. Now I had absolutely nothing to show for who I am on the inside. I was back at square one. It felt like my life was starting over. This feeling only brought me down more. I felt like a failure, and I began to lose my way. 

Today, I'm settling back into who I am. I don't have to prove anything to anyone. The future seems incredibly uncertain, but there's one thing I'm incredibly certain of -  who I am and my value. I'm incredibly valuable. It sucks that most people just won't ever see that. But, I have accepted it for what it is. Society is made for the average person, and those who are on par with me will see me for all that I am. I just have to continue to be my best self, and hope for a future where I'm not taken for granted. Results are what matter, not the journey. 

If you are average, I'm telling you to be grateful for being average. It's the luckiest thing a person can be in this society. However, I won't ever dumb myself down to fit in. The results will be shown in my satisfaction with life, and self-actualization (a little Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs reference to end this off). 

Best to everyone. 

Love, Chenchen ♡

[marischimmer]

Vignar - Chapter 1 - Part 6

Well, a roommate shouldn’t distract her from her routine. She was a long gone subject, after all. Yes, a long gone subject. Not a long gone friend. A. Subject.

Math homework wouldn’t be done by itself, would it. Time to get that done.

It would be easier if she actually understood what she was doing. What was the point in knowing what a parabola is? That wouldn’t help her in real life, would it? It’d be much better if they learnt how to cook something else than noodles and rice, or how to sew, for example. If you want to keep it math-ish, even Home Economics would be better. But the ones who decide what to learn are never the ones in the classrooms, are they.

– Why, hallo dere, Empson. Or should I say princess – greeted someone, loud enough to make her hear him despite the headphones. She decided to ignore him, since no one was allowed to speak to her in that tone – Hey. Dun ignore me, ya piece of shit – the guy said, grabbing her by her hood. Stupid jacket.

– Oh, I’m sorry, were you talking to me? – she asked, as sarcastic as possible, her golden eyes shining in disgust just by seeing him and his lame goons – Is there nothing better for you to do, Selman? I bet your Math homework remains untouched still –

– So what? You ain’t done it eider, didja? –

– And what if I haven’t yet? At least I am going to do it. What about you? Will you let your marks go even lower? –

– ‘S dat a challenge? Are ya challenging me? Don’tja know what happens when ya challenge me? –

– Yes. I win – she said, stabbing his foot with her heels.  Before he realised, she was free from his grip, and was gone by the second. His gorillas were so lame they wouldn’t even try to catch her, being so worried about their “boss”.

Some narrow alleys later, she was back at the school campus. Now she was safe. They wouldn’t dare hit her at school, they had been too many times at Detention already; they would be suspended, at the very least. She should still be more aware of her surroundings. This time it was those idiots, but the next time it could be a robber or a kidnapper.

Jeez. How annoying they were.

She tried to focus on that awful Math homework. Now she had to get a better mark than him. Of course she would, but extra effort wouldn’t kill her. If only she understood the exercise completely… But Mrs. Emily didn’t quite understand the questions they made, and always answered anything else but what they wanted to know. That happened as a homeroom teacher, too, so that’s why they weren’t too happy when they were told she’d be theirs. But, anyways, she was better than many others, and better than nothing at all, so she was accepted.

Math homework. Not Math teacher. Focus.

Actually, now that she thought about it, many teachers had that same problem…

Focus.

What if Shaiel was good at Math? She should check the timetable Kendra gave her; if she was in the same or even a higher level, she could ask her for help, maybe. Just for Math. It wouldn’t harm her, would it?

With that idea in mind, she hurried back to her room, decided to do her best before she arrived. Just to show her how good she was.

– She didn’t recognize me –

Having called Damon in a hurry, she was lying in Shaiel’s bed to avoid messing up all the plushies and cushions neatly covering her own, hiding her head behind a pillow. Who cared if she messed up her roommate’s side instead.

– Pfft- What? –

– She didn’t recognize me. She doesn’t know who I am. She seemed confused, as if she had some déjà vu or something, but she didn’t recognize me – she said, throwing the pillow against him when he started laughing.

Wonderful. Now she wouldn’t hear the end of it.

– Are you done yet? –

– I told you! I told you she ain’t recognizing you! You’ve grown up, you silly, you changed! I bet she changed too –

– ...She is much taller than me now. Were it not for my heels, the difference would be huge. Her English is still as bad as it was though – she said, but there was pride in her voice. It did improve. She just wouldn’t admit it.

– So? Where’s she? –

– I… may or may not have spoken harshly and told her to disappear from my sight –

– OH. MY. GOD! Lisette! – he started laughing again, making her blush. Well, yes, she probably shouldn’t have done that, but there was no reason to tease her like that! – Unbelievable. I ain’t believe you are so- The girl’s new here! Ain’t you wanted to make a nice first impression?? You really are dumb! –

– We all know I’m dumb, Damon, that’s no news –

– No. Wait. I ain’t meant it. No, you ain’t dumb. Damnit –

– Language, D. Do not worry, it is common knowledge by now. Anyways, did you get any more information? – she asked, trying to change the subject. It was no news, really. Everyone said so because it was true.

– I… no, not really. They told her to ask us questions instead, since she got so… well, shy about herself –

– Yes, I noticed. When she saw me she seemed… scared or something. It was… unusual. People tend to hate me, not fear me –

– Guess you’ll have fun with her around –

– Perhaps.., – she said, not paying much attention anymore – Say, what do you want for your birthday? –

– …Ain’t you a tad too early? –

– Come on, you know I like having everything ready beforehand. And it’s less than a month away –

– Fine, fine… What about a new helmet? For my bike, you know. The old one is, well, old. I got tired of it already –

– ...You are worse than me. But, very well! It is decided, then. Expect a new helmet, better than the previous one! By the way, where is your bike? You didn’t have it with you this morning, did you? –

– Nah, it’s in the repair shop. Somethin’s wrong with the breaks; it ain’t letting me stop when I want to –

– …Are you sure you don’t want me to buy you a new one? –

– Hell no! Dad bought it for me, ya know it. I ain’t changin’ it for anythin’. It ain’t matter if it’s second hand or anythin’, it’s mine. I’m keepin’ it until it ain’t fixable no more – he got really worked up. He quickly realised he was on the verge of getting angry at her for no reason and stood up to leave before he made any mistakes – …Welp. I’m off to get snacks. Want some? –

– Heck no, I’m still full from lunch. How do you even manage to keep all that food in your stomach? –

– Genetics, sweetie. Genetics –

– I hate you – she joked, making him chuckle. Good, he wasn’t in that much of a foul mood anymore – Oh, yes, by the way. Kendra is expecting you to make her meet Shaiel. Actually, to try to make them be friends. Don’t disrespect her prediction, now, could you? –

[igcse-school]

What are the Benefits of Cambridge IGCSE?

The Cambridge International General Certificate of Secondary Education (IGCSE) is a popular international qualification that is recognized by universities and employers around the world. There are many benefits to taking the IGCSE, including:

Rigorous and challenging curriculum: The IGCSE curriculum is rigorous and challenging, which prepares students for further study and for the world of work.

Internationally recognized: The IGCSE is an internationally recognized qualification, which means that it is accepted by universities and employers around the world.

Flexible and adaptable: The IGCSE curriculum is flexible and adaptable, which allows students to choose the subjects that are most relevant to their interests and goals.

Excellent preparation for A Levels: The IGCSE is an excellent preparation for A Levels, which are the next step in the UK's education system.

Wide range of subjects: The IGCSE offers a wide range of subjects, which allows students to explore their interests and develop their skills.

High-quality teaching: Schools that offer the IGCSE are required to meet high standards of teaching and learning.

Cambridge Lower Secondary Curriculum

The Cambridge Lower Secondary Curriculum (CSLC) is a two-year program that is designed to prepare students for the IGCSE. The CSLC covers a wide range of subjects, including English, math, science, social studies, and the arts. The program is challenging but also engaging, and it helps students develop the skills they need to succeed in the IGCSE and beyond.

Cambridge Lower Secondary Programme

The Cambridge Lower Secondary Programme (CLSP) is a more flexible option for students who want to take the IGCSE. The CLSP allows students to choose the subjects that are most relevant to their interests and goals. The program is also more aligned with the Indian curriculum, which makes it a good option for students who plan to continue their education in India.

The Cambridge IGCSE is a valuable qualification that can open up many opportunities for students. If you are considering taking the IGCSE, I encourage you to research the program and talk to people who have experience with it. I believe that you will find that the IGCSE is a challenging but rewarding experience that will help you reach your full potential.

Here are some additional benefits of taking the Cambridge IGCSE:

It can help you develop your critical thinking skills. The IGCSE curriculum requires students to think critically and solve problems. This is an essential skill for success in college and in the workplace.

It can help you improve your communication skills. The IGCSE exams require students to write essays and give presentations. This helps students develop their communication skills, which are essential for success in any field.

It can help you gain confidence. Taking the IGCSE is a challenging but rewarding experience. When you succeed in the IGCSE, you will gain confidence in your abilities.

If you are looking for a rigorous and challenging international qualification that can help you reach your full potential, then I encourage you to consider taking the Cambridge IGCSE.

[randomhuman45]

As a queer woman of color in STEM holy fuck I do this.

I'm my math course in university I had an oral exam where the professor gives us a problem or theorem to solve/prove that you solve real time explaining what you're doing, your thought process and if you get stuck you can ask for help but the more help you ask for the lower your grade goes.

My exam was the second to last week of classes so I was one of the last people to take it. I think out of the whole class maybe 5 had gotten an A and most of the class hadn't even been able to finish or complete their solution due to difficulty.

So I take it and I legit do this the entire time until I fumbled my way to my final solutions since my problem ended up having 4 parts to it. Afterwards the professor asked how I thought I did and I just explained how "I could have done this faster" and "I took a really long time to..." In which he responded with "Math isn't a race, we have time. This isn't timed, but how do you think you did?" He just kept doing that with each stupid negative thing I said until I finally actually answered the question by saying I thought I did somewhat okay with room for improvement in consciousness.

He then nodded his head and just went "Well you got an A from me, so don't worry." After I left I finally realized, I not only solved the entire problem, but I did it on my own with no additional help, the very thing we were graded on being able to do. The very thing that gave everyone else their grade.

I wasn't being graded on time or how clear or concise my solution was, the only thing I was graded on was being able to do the full problem, time and conciseness is all higher level stuff than the actual course. Even afterwards telling my friends in the class about it they were so proud and in awe at the fact that I was even able to complete the problem especially with it having so many aspects.

Blah blah blah believe yourself

blah blah blah being graded on the same scale as everyone else is crazy new sometimes coming from a p racist town then going to a progressive university

Blah blah blah inspirational shit ig idk I have my degree in Mathematics not English

So tired of women having to speak in code just to get what they need/deserve! And if you are a woman of color, it's worse.

[mydyspraxiablog]

So be hard be Adult dyspraxia with no mobie phone can't draw gift voucher won on Tesco ,Amazon and Mastercard because all asking verity code on mobile phone I mum won't improve it and just get no way mum isn't listening you not having mobile phone because of scarm and we go back to Lower dragon farm do woodwork crouse" Can't got no mobile phone not use monkey mobie phone and be no emergency number phone so can't with stafford college now with learn different team and can't go till have adult mobile phone"

I not even going use monkey phone in UK or Turkey so if miss airplane use my cruise cash get home safely to Sydnee my cat but mum isn't listening my brother Francis is always right she won't listen and not use kids mobie phone I got use Google now it part of online crouse and tesco monkey phone cost £30 too much money 💰 paid as going isn't work for me.

I want go back to Lower Drayton farm

And upper morton farm but I can't because haven't got mobie phone for emergency that what there saying.

I enjoy garden and Animal crouse but could not take photo of animals which love do but won't happen " without mobie phone can't do any farm crouse incude cooking,Math and English crouse.

I do online crouse got too many cefficate which can't print out so let photo do the talking instead.

[mariacallous]

Summary: Reeves largely creates solutions that would have helped his own life (holding his son back a year and making caretaking the primary source of purpose for men). He presents one-sided evidence, often failing to engage with research critical of his solutions (which are covered below). He also largely ignores (or at least mutes the findings of) DiPrete, who has done a large share of the high quality studies on boys educational deficits over the last 20 years. I believe this is because DiPrete argues for norms targeting pursuit of excellence in academics. Reeves' makes everything caregiving-centric in a way that feels contradictory to DiPrete.

Education: He also completely fails to address where boys deficits actually come from. High quality studies suggest it comes from four sources: lower effortful control (ie self-discipline), lower reading ability, lower writing ability, norms that don't support scholastic achievement. Ideally, a solution would both align children's interests and desires with good academic outcomes (eliminating the effortful control gap, about 40% of the deficit), and create a system in which grades are not writing-centric (things like making debate and effective speaking key parts of English could help here). We would also create norms for boys that help spur academic achievement.

To date, little work has been done on the above. However, the are four key areas that impact boys that can be improved: high levels of cooperative learning can likely reduce deficits in math (almost all of it disappeared); this is easy to implement. Boost school quality: high quality schools eliminate 50-70% of the gap, by my estimation, compared to low quality schools. Consider apprenticeship-degree programs similar to what Germany, Austria and Switzerland use; these countries have no gender deficit in degree attainment. Institute norms for academic achievement among boys--this has to happen after we have a system which works for boys, but is no less important than the other 3.

Statements on how nature affects gender differences Research here is conflicting. He presents it as a closed case for a heavy nature effect. Yes, differences in interests are larger in more equal countries, but we don't know if this is because they started with even larger gaps or whether they grew due to equality (he presumes the latter). What little (admittedly poor-quality) evidence exists, suggests the change in equality doesn't matter to gender gaps. Personally, I agree with his assertions, but they are assertions and shouldn't be presented as fact.

Entering the HEAL fields I agree with his goal here, I don't agree with his methods. He claims that programs to get women into STEM have been seriously successful. I would disagree. After spending what I would estimate is well over $1B in today's dollars, women still only account for 25% of STEM jobs (roughly) and their interest in people vs things has not changed at all in a century (per a massive 2009 study/review). Its hard to raise money for men's issues. Maybe we should try something a little more cost-effective?

Roles for men I agree with his model of female early vs male late caregiving split--this is well supported by what research exists and is grounded in neurological and hormonal-behavioral interaction research, not sociological or psychology evidence (which, IMO, is a good thing). I also agree on his focus on equality.

However, the desire to center the entire male role around caregiving appears to be more emotional than anything. The science is fairly clear that personal growth and purpose are basic human needs (see Deci and Ryan and Ryff's work, respectively). Per surveys, people attach lots of meaning to both work and family and study after study suggests people want to do both. Using "mild social coercion" to enforce men's central role as caregivers deprives a large number of men of the right to find, form and follow their own dreams. It harms men for the same reasons it harmed women. All people must be given the right to center their lives around both. Given the the restrictions it places on boys and men, I believe this is not only extremely harmful, but makes Reeves' overall construct unsupportable.

One of the only critical reviews (on Amazon) of The New Book About Masculinity Everyone Is Now Talking About

[skamenglishsubs]

Subtext and Culture, Young Royals, Season 1, Episode 2

Episode 2 picks up the morning day after the initiation party, the girls are having breakfast lunch at their dorm, the boys at theirs, and everyone wants the juicy details about what happened at the party...

Culture: Tell me more, tell me more, did you get very far? Although, it's pretty funny how the roles are reversed, Maddie is all "meh" about it, while Nils tells a different story. Then again, since when do you get together after a blowjob?

Culture: I actually have no idea why Simon is having breakfast at Skogsbacken, since regular schools only cover lunch for students, everyone eats breakfast at home, and then goes to school. Then again, it allows a scene where (Never mind, they're having lunch, thanks @kamand !) Blink and you miss it: Wilhelm casts some nervous glances at Simon after having been called out for disappearing at the party and almost forced to confess to making out with someone.

Culture: I know Felice is trying to put August down, but don't knock a proper Swedish pizza! As much as I like living in the US, they can't fucking make pizzas here, and the first thing I eat every time I go back to Sweden is always a real pizza. With pineapple and shrimp as God intended pizza to be made!

Culture: August is namedropping ski resorts in the Alps, which is where you go skiing in Europe if you have money, although Saint-Martin-de-Belleville is actually near Val Thorens in France, while Verbier is in Switzerland. It does have a three-star restaurant, though. Sweden and Norway have a couple of decent ski resorts, but the Scandinavian mountain chain is simply not as impressive as the Alps.

Subtext: Remember Wilhelm getting up and hurrying to math class in the beginning of the scene? It was so he could grab the other seat next to Simon, because he knows Simon is gonna sit next to Sara, since no-one else does.

Culture: Formally greeting your teacher before class is very uncommon in Sweden, but since Hillerska is all about discipline and tradition, of course they do it. Note that they're again using the formal Swedish title for male teachers, Magister, which in a regular school would be kind of a joke, since teachers and students are on a first-name basis with each other.

Subtext: Wilhelm is exposing how the world works if you have money. At Simon's old school, studying alone would result in good grades, but Hillerska is slightly corrupt and almost expects the students to essentially pay for getting a good grade.

Subtext: Simon is lying to his teacher, he absolutely hasn't talked to his parents about paying for private lessons.

Subtext: No, Sara absolutely does care about what other people think about her, and when she directly tells Felice that she would actually like some friends, that's when Felice gets it and starts making an effort to become real friends with her.

Culture: They're all bilingual at Simon's home, they're all speaking Spanish and Swedish, although Linda has a very noticeable accent to her Swedish. Based on demographics and statistics, the most likely scenario is that Linda immigrated to Sweden from Chile, met Micke, and started a family. In real life, Omar Rudberg was born in Venezuela and grew up in Sweden, while Carmen Gloria Pérez was born in New York, and grew up in Puerto Rico.

Subtext: Remember how I talked in the intro post about how distant social classes know nothing of each other? Ayub and Rosh are either working class or lower middle class like Simon, and since rowing is a typical upper class sport, they know nothing of it, they don't even think of it as a real sport. Unlike football, which is a proper working class sport, they know all about that!

Subtext: Scandinavia has Jantelagen, and everyone there thinks it's uniquely Scandinavian, but all countries have some form of Tall Poppy Syndrome. In this scene, Simon is starting to make a class journey, he started rowing, he started trying to fit in with the other upper-class kids, and getting into a relationship with someone as upper-class as Wilhelm would definitely move him all the way. But going on a journey means leaving things behind, which is why Rosh and Ayub are cutting him down and literally turning their backs on him. They like it in the small town of Bjärstad, why can't he be happy there too? Why is he betraying his roots?

Subtext: This comment from August nicely foreshadows a later episode when August does something traceable on a School computer...

Subtext: What August means is that he's not sure Wilhelm has the same desire to be accultured into the upper class, to play the part of a proper prince, in the same way that he and Erik have accepted their roles and are even enjoying them.

Culture: Although it's impossible to read the name of the medicine, the paper tag on the bottle indicates that it's some kind of prescription medicine. From the conversation with Vincent, we learn that it's some kind of ADHD medication, probably some kind of Dextroamphetamine since those improve athletic ability and cognitive functions in healthy people.

Culture: Birkenstock sandals are associated with hippies in Sweden as well as in many parts of the world, so August is actually saying that the school counselor isn't really part of the same upper-class society as the rest of the staff. And again, his use of the word sosse drives the point home.

Subtext: Consequently, the counselor sees right through August and refuses to immediately prescribe him the medication that he wants...

Subtext: ...even though August tries to both bribe him and threaten him into giving him the medication he wants.

Subtext: A big theme of this episode is class journeys, and in this scene and a previous exercise scene, August gushes about how good a thing that is, how proud he is of Simon for going on one, and spouts some crap about how everyone can make it if they really want to.

Subtext: Thankfully, Madison says what we're all thinking: August is full of shit, life isn't fair, and they're only at the school because they were born into privilege.

Blink and you miss it: After Wilhelm has nervously texted his crush for the first time, he starts to bite his fingernails, but quickly stops himself, because why would he be nervous? He's just texting another boy about rowing practice, there's nothing more to it!

Subtext: Simon's texting game is on point though, he knows exactly what he should write to get Wilhelm to go on a totally-not-a-date with him.

Subtext: In the same way that August couldn't convince the counselor about being sick, I don't think Wilhelm's atrocious acting here convinces August that he's sick either.

Culture: Public transport in the greater Stockholm area - or wherever we're supposed to be - is of course cash-less, and you pay by either charging a special card, or by signing up in their app and buying tickets through there. The point of this scene though is to drive home how Wilhelm has never ever had to take the bus before in his life, and therefore has no idea how it works.

Culture: The totally-not-a-date starts at a Circle K, which in Sweden is just another gas station, but it is actually a Canadian multi-national convenience store corporation. The price of gas is of course posted in kr/l, and 13.98kr/l corresponds to roughly $6/gal.

Subtext: Throughout the totally-not-a-date, Wilhelm is trying to reach for common ground with Simon, trying to show him how he's just a regular guy...

Subtext: ...but then real life intrudes, Wilhelm is recognized by some local girls, who call out to him and run away giggling, which shows how he's not a regular guy, he's going to get recognized wherever he goes.

Culture: Kokt eller grillat, boiled or grilled, are the two ways you can get your hot-dog at pretty much any hot-dog place in Sweden, and ketchup and mustard is always offered. The correct answer to this question is of course grilled, with ketchup and mustard, and this just shows that Wilhelm is a man of culture and good taste. Unfortunately, they were out grilled ones, so they all got boring soggy boiled hot-dogs instead. Is there a metaphor here? I don't know.

Subtext: Again, the show drives home the point that absolutely no-one has a problem with people being gay. Simon is clearly out to Ayub and the rest of his friends, and Ayub immediately picks up on the fact that this is totally a date.

Blink and you miss it: Ayub nudges Simon with his elbow to tell him that he should make a move on Wilhelm.

Culture: What we're looking at is just the local junior/high school football team, Bjärstad, playing a match against some other unnamed junior football team. Since the stakes are super low, the audience basically consists of whichever parents and friends of the players that could be bothered showing up.

Culture: Driving age is 18 in Sweden, and even then getting your own car at that age is extremely uncommon. However, you can easily get a license for a moped when you turn 15, so these are the vehicles of choice for teenagers to get around.

Subtext: August found out about Wilhelm's trip to town, but his main problem with it is that he wants Wilhelm to stop slumming it with lower class people, and to start hanging out with everyone at school instead, so that he can be properly accultured into the upper class. Again, sosse in this context means working class, not socialist.

Subtext: Although Simon felt really great about his first date with Wilhelm, the text message reminds him that Wilhelm isn't a regular person, and that even this innocent little trip generates interest and scrutiny, and can't be posted publicly.

Culture: As everyone should have noticed by now, Madison keeps speaking English, while everyone speaks to her in Swedish, so clearly she understands it. But here she gives her motivation for sticking to English, and that is that she doesn't feel she's good enough at speaking Swedish. Boarding schools like Hillerska attracts international students that have some kind of connection to the country, so a likely scenario is that Madison grew up in the US with a Swedish parent, and she's being sent here to experience Swedish culture and get immersed in the language to learn it better.

Cinematography: This shot of August drives really home all the pressure he is under, he's out of drugs, the headmistress just hinted that he's out of money, and he's literally being weighed down by books and work-out weights.

Subtext: Simon has kept his visits to Micke a secret from Sara, so here he has to intervene to make sure August doesn't accidentally reveal this to her. He also wants to protect his sister, so he's redirecting August's search for drugs onto himself.

Subtext: And on the flipside, Simon isn't really telling his dad that Sara still hates him and really doesn't want to see him, so he's vague when Micke asks about Sara and Linda.

Culture: Finally a bottle of medicine where we can read the label! Unfortunately for Simon, this is Tramadol, an opiate prescribed for pain relief, which is the complete opposite of the kind of drugs August wants.

Subtext: If you haven't figured out yet that this episode is about class journeys, August spells it out for us here. However, the reason he's "congratulating" Simon in front of everybody is because Simon just supplied him with more drugs, so this is his way of thanking him, since he can't really pay him.

Blink and you miss it: For a split second, Wilhelm grabs Simon's leg during the scary scene.

Subtext: The entire dialogue of the movie works as subtext for what's actually going on between Wilhelm and Simon at this point, and Wilhelm is getting a little freaked out by this sneaky display of affection.

Subtext: The movie also puts words on the implications of Wilhelm getting together with a boy, what about having kids in the future? Can you carry on your family name and traditions, or will they die with you?

Lost in translation: The plaque actually says "FEEL YOUR RESPONSIBILITY FOR THE HERITAGE". Even though the plaque means the heritage and legacy of the school itself, Wilhelm is thinking about his legacy, his heritage, and how getting together with Simon would threaten that.

Lost in translation: Wilhelm actually says "jag är inte en..." - "I'm not a..." before he stops himself. So it's not possible that he was trying to say "I'm not gay", because that doesn't work grammatically in Swedish either. He could be trying to say "I'm not a guy like that" or "I'm not a guy who likes guys", that would work.

Cinematography: The framing and silhouetting of this shot is just chef's kiss. The outline of their hair allows us to see who is who, and we can see from their poses that Simon is welcoming a kiss, while Wilhelm is still hesitating.

[connieshusband]

Fucking hate you, love to fuck you

Hate sex

Oikawa x fem!reader

"fuck you!" "Is that a promise?"

4k

reader was the captain and ace of the girls team, reader goes to Aoba Josai, reader is also Kag's cousin

Degradation, Slight Feminization Kink, Praise Kink, Fluffy Ending, Fluff and Angst, I'm not very good at writing smut, I also got tired while writing so its short... sorry, Sir Kink: but very minor, no beta we die like men

-cross posted on my ao3:  https://archiveofourown.org/works/31932412

MINORS DNI

Summary:

You hadn't registered that you'd slapped him until he look at you holding his red cheek with his large hand.

And you certainly hadn't registered that he had his tongue down your throat not a moment later. An honest to god moan leaving your lips which he smugly ate up.

___

Degration as well as any kink should have the full consent of all parties involved every time!!

I'm not very good at e2l so be gentle 🤩

I'm such a simp lmao

Oikawa could never figure out why you hated him when you both entered your first year of high school. Having come from a different middle school than you, he figured you'd be like the rest of the people in your grade level and fall all over him.

He wanted to ask why you had such a large stick up your ass during your first group project but chickened out. He assumed you'd at least get along as you were captain of the girls volleyball team and known for your powerful spikes. The setter in him really wanted to find out your perfect toss.

But it wasn't until your 3rd year when he came to despise you too.

He'd overheard you telling your best friend that your cousin made it onto his high schools volleyball team. Being the nosey Nelly that he is, he made the mistake of asking which school your cousin attended.

"Karasuno," you said, your chest puffed out.

It clicked: the black hair, intense expression, the last name even. He could practically see his protégé in the reflection of your eyes. He mentally slapped himself for not seeing it sooner.

His eyes narrowed, matching yours as tension of your silent beat down had to be cut by Iwazumi.

_____

You set down your suitcase, giving your aunt a big hug as she greeted you in the doorway. You give Tobio a fist bump as he helps you carry your things into the spare bedroom.

Your aunt had graciously allowed you to stay with her so you could be closer to school for your final year.

"I can't believe you're dropping volleyball club just as I'm about to join," Tobio whined, setting a suitcase on a chair in the corner of the room.

"I know," you said sullenly. You hadn't wanted to, but being captain and a 3rd year just wasn't going to be practical. Not being the best student, you thought it would be a wise decision.

Having always been close your your cousin on your dad's side came with its perks, including but not limited to drama. Ever since Tobio had joined volleyball in middle school he'd talked about Oikawa, usually brushing off some of the down right nasty things he'd said. But you hadn't. You took it upon yourself to help him train harder and harder to be able to defeat his bully when he'd found out he couldn't attend Aoba Josai with you.

Being an ace had its advantages when teaching Tobio about different techniques on how to set up a spiker best. Often gossiping about the smug bastard as you worked.

Of course, there was no escaping the pretty boy at school either. When your best friend, Ryu, had started dating his best friend Iwaizumi, being the 3rd and 4th wheel at hangouts became increasingly awkward.

And even worse when she mentioned your current math grade. Damn that ginger setter. And Mr. Perfect boasting about his grades to you. Which had lead you to your current situation.

Sitting in his bedroom.

Listening to him drawl on and on with rapidly decreasing interest.

While he looked hot as fuck.

What?!

With new found annoyance you scoffed at him snapping his fingers in your face.

"earth to y/n, I know I'm ravishing, but now it's math time." He said, a smirk decorating his lips.

“I ignored you on purpose, dumbass. Don't you get that I hate you?"

"I'm not asking you to stay, besides this has nothing to do with me?? Its calculus..."

"narcissist," you mumbled under your breath.

"must be your type," he shot back, "gawking at me for the last hour."

"aren't you dating whats-her-face from English?" You retorted, feeling your face heat up.

"yeah??" he said, confused.

You mocked his confusion, ""yeah" God, then stop flirting with me."

He scoffed, an eyebrow disappearing into bangs, "you must be a narcissist if you think I'm flirting with you because wow, it almost like I can't stand the sight of you, y/n," he rolled his eyes in disgust, sitting up in his chair indignantly.

You push him back into his chair, turning on your heels, saying nothing more.

"good!! I was going to kick you out anyway!"

____

You notice his current girlfriend wasn't hanging out with him at lunch nor sitting in his lap during English. In fact. He hadn't found new arm candy by the time your next session rolled around the following week.

___

After begrudgingly agreeing to do another tutoring session and making him promise no funny business, that rule was broken when he had his sleeves rolled up of his blue silk shirt, he glasses laying forgotten on the table, fingers rubbing his tired eyes as he tried to explain a difficult problem to you.

How could Tooru Oikawa be so fucking sexy and such a fucking dick at the same time?

Asking myself this a lot while writing

"fuck you, Oikawa! I don't need your bullshit!"

"fine! Fucking go then!" Giving you a light shove towards the door.

You hadn't registered that you'd slapped him until he look at you holding his red cheek with his large hand.

And you certainly hadn't registered that he had his tongue down your throat not a moment later. An honest to god moan leaving your lips which he smugly ate up.

You shoved him against his bed, your own smugness drinking up his moan.

You pulled your tank top off as you climbed on top of him. "You have condoms?" You asked, cringing at your breathless voice.

He flipped your position, hot breath fanning your ear, "don't you want to be filled with my cum, baby?"

Rolling your eyes, you flipped the position again, "the last thing the world needs is more of you running around."

He considered it before saying with a shrug "top drawer."

Leaning over, your legs still gripping his hips, you pulled out a condom wrapper and tossed it at his face. His nose scrunching cutely.

"pull some weight, lazykawa," you said, yanking his pants and underwear to his ankles. He was already fully hard and you took great satisfaction in wordlessly teasing him.

Trying to ignore you, a blush creeping up around his ears as he hurriedly rolling the condom onto his thick length, as you remove your bra. He flips your position once more, hovering over you, a taunting smirk plastered over his lips.

"can't go 10 minutes without getting your greedy pussy fucked?"

"Can't that mouth do anything besides half-assed insults, Shittykawa?" You mocked, he raised a cheeky eye brow at you.

He lowered his face to you heat, "want to find out?" You grip his hair harshly and shove his face between your thighs.

He rips off you panties and eagerly laps around your cunt before catching himself, slowing his ministrations.

He gripped your thighs as he buried his face in your heat. Alternating between sucking in your clit and finger fucking you, never letting you get both at the same time.

You bit your tongue, doing your best to avoid begging for more - a futile endeavor.

"C'mon babygirl, I know you want it," he sing-songed

You swallowed your pride, "please Tooru."

"sorry couldn't hear you, your legs were busy clamping around my ears.

Your legs shook in frustration and pleasure as he lazily drummed his finger on your sweet spot.

He leaned overtop of you, sucking harshly in your neck as his other hand massages your ass.

"please, Tooru! Please sir!"

"oo~" he remarks, returning between your legs, 3 fingers entering you suddenly as he nibbled along your thigh, quickly returning to sucking on your clit.

You come hard and without warning.

"delicious," he remarks, sitting up and licking his fingers clean, "and so many lewd noises too."

"You have a knack for bringing out the worst in people," you attempt to sound threatening but only succeeding in boosting his ego.

"Oh no~ I hate to find out what the best would be..." He unbuttons his blue silk shirt, allowing you to drink up the full show of his abs. "Not talking so big now, eh, Kageyama?"

You scowl at him before grunting a "just fuck me already".

"don't mind if I do."

You connected your lips with his, enjoying the noises he made as his neglected cock became engulfed in your warmth.

Neither of you lasted long.

He emptied himself into the rubber with a sexy grunt lining up with your moan.

After care he collapsed on top of you, his deep breaths matching yours.

Your hands still resting on his back, feeling scratches from your nails decorating his skin.

He had pressed his forehead to yours, you looked up to meet his eyes which were flitting between the purple marks on your neck and your eyes.

He hadn't held your gaze for more than a second when the realization of what just happened hit both of you at once. Pushing your bodies apart, you shamefully picked up your clothes from the floor leaving the room quickly.

____

It had been weeks since that day. You hadn't gone back for another tutoring session, claiming to Ryu that your grades had improved.

The free time had allowed you to be a better supporter for your cousin, getting a chance to meet his teammates and his friends.

You meet Karasuno's Ryu and think to yourself how well he and your Ryu would get along

While hanging out with your cousin at the spring tournament, you were enjoying a lunch break with a vibrant ginger, his best friend Hinata and a mutual friend with spiky hair. Bokuto, you had learned, was in your year and had a ton in common with you.

Maybe you'd gotten carried away returning his flirty looks and laughing a little too hard at his jokes. He remarked often how different your personality was from your cousin. After exchanging numbers to practice volleyball sometime (him being excited to practice with another captain/ace) an unfortunately familiar voice pulled you away from your fun.

"y/n?"

"what?" You roll your eyes, at Oikawa. You knew he had been watch you and the rest of Karasuno after they had win their first game. Beside you, you can feel the 3 boys, especially Tobio fuming.

"I have a question about the math assignment."

"I'm busy."

"too bad."

Recognizing that he wasn't going to go away until you give in, you stand up, brushing the dust from your bottoms. He leads the way out of sight from your new friends.

He harshly pushes you against the wall, "what do you think you're doing princess?"

You flip your position, he winced as his back connects with the concrete wall. "You ask you the same thing, princess."

His hand instinctively wrapped around your muscular arm submissively.

"you like that don't you?" You asked.

He nervously glanced around him for on lookers. Luckily he'd chosen a pretty secluded spot

"wouldn't want your fan girls to see you being treated like the pretty white you are?" You smirked.

He nodded shyly.

You grabbed his ass, earning a submissive squeak from him.

"such a good princess, getting his flat ass groped," you smile, you see him swallow a moan as his eyes flutter shut.

You begin painfully slowly palming him through his shorts, feeling him grow under you.

"I hope you lose," you whisper sensually into his ear.

He scowls at you as you pull away completely. Leaving him hard, exposed, and blushing as you return to your new friends.

______

The cheers from Karasuno's supporters hadn't quieted down as the team packed up. Still high on adrenaline and pride for your baby cousin, you took the time to use the bathroom before the long drive home.

Rounding the corner you heard voices, recognizing one to be Oikawa and the other belonging to a deep voiced man.

Sneaking a peak your eyes go wide. He was face to face with Ushiwaka. The former not fairing well in the conversation. You didn't think a man could look for upset than the way Oikawa looked right now.

As the conversation comes to a close, you wait until Oikawa has gone out if sight to chase after him. Accidentally running into Ushiwaka.

"sorry" you mumble, attempting to move past.

"you're with karasuno, yes?" Ushiwaka asks.

Your mind didn't really register him, instead giving him a quick pat on the shoulder and a "that's great, buddy," as you run after the brunette.

Hearing an "I look forward to playing them." In the distance.

"Hey!"

He was too far ahead to really hear you, pushing past the front doors.

"HEY!" You yell, nearly at his heels. You stand in the doorway breathing hard, "TOORU!"

He turns to face you, Iwaizumi annoyed that he can't convince their captain to just get on the bus already.

You beckon him over and he skeptically approaches you.

"here to gloat?" He asks, his voice lacking the usual sharpness.

"Tobio is staying at Hinata's tonight and my aunt is out is town for the next two days," you say.

You see the cogs working as he pieces together what you're offering. His mouth forming an 'o' shape as he realizes.

You smile smugly before running back to where Karasuno's bus is parked, giving Tobio a running jump hug, which he awkwardly returned.

__

If nothing else, Oikawa was punctual. Arriving at exactly at 7:30. You hadn't done anything special, just heated up 2 frozen pizzas that your aunt had left. Watching his form as he quietly ate his 3 cheese. He hadn't said a word besides "thank you" after you'd served him. While yes, apart of you meant when you'd said that you hoped he lose but the guilt of seeing the cocky bastard looking so small on the other side of the table, nibbling on the crust. Pity maybe?

"You played really we-"

His eyes were red, his pride keeping him from crying in front of you. "I don't want to talk about it."

"You want to have sex?"

he hesitated before asking, "can we be nice?"

You nodded. Making your way to his chair, straddling his hips and cupping his face. You kissed him slow and deliberate. You don't kiss long before you start to feel his dick springing to life. You stand up pulling him, walking backwards, towards your room accidentally walking into the partially open door.

"Graceful," he commented, a hint of his salty tone under his words as he resumed kissing you.

You grinded against each other for a few moments, drinking in each others moans. You pulled away momentarily, his cheeks dusted pink, breathing heavy, his dick straining in his pants.

"You're so beautiful," you said. He blushed harder, his cock twitching in it's confines. Your fingers dip under the waistband of his pants and pull them down, licking your lips when his cock hits his stomach. You're about to press your lips to his tip when you feel pressure on your forehead.

"y-you don't have to..." he says. You cock your head to one side, your lips parted as you gaze up at him. "I-I get it you know... I don't hold it against you..."

"I want to," you say, "if you want me to."

He nods slowly, his eyes fluttering shut as he enters your warm mouth.

Out of all the sex you'd had, this moment with Tooru didn't feel like sex. It felt like making love.

After he got close, you popped your mouth off and had ridden him. His muscles still sore from his games. Your lips danced with his as his hips met yours. Both of you reaching your climax simultaneously.

Tired in the best way, you cuddle up to his bare chest, kissing his cheek, "don't think this means I like you, flatass."

"of course," he says, relaxing into your touch.

"good."

"it was the fact that my dick was down your throat that made be think that."

You punch him in the ribs, earning an 'ouch' followed by a quiet, "let me have one win today." Followed by an even quieter "sorry" from you.

You place a gentle kiss on his cheek again before returning to your snuggle position. He wraps his arms around your waist as you both drift off to sleep.

______

It's been a number of days and neither if you had spoken about it. You wanted to text him a simple 'good morning' but the image of him quietly shuffling out of your room at the crack of dawn when he thought you were still sleeping, placing a gentle kiss on your temple. You didn't want to seem too eager or somehow let on that not only were you awake but had enjoyed when he'd done it.

After the girls had lost to Fukurodani's girls in the semi finals, Ryu had insisted on dragging you out to play volleyball with her and some 'friends'. You secretly hope it's the other girls from your team. You find yourself not disappointed that it's Iwaizumi and Oikawa.

"Warm up 'Yama!" Oikawa yells at you, serving the ball in your direction as you and Ryu approach.

Caught off guard for a moment, you return the ball back at him, hitting his face lightly with an oof.

Of course, Ryu wanted to set for her boyfriend, leaving you with Oikawa.

You made a pretty good team, he picked up your style quickly, the ball exactly where you wanted it without having to tell him anything. Not to mention that Oikawa had racked up a third of the points on service aces alone, Iwaizumi finally adjusting to being on the receiving end on them. He and Ryu had made a magnificent comeback, clearly having practiced with each other before. You were lucky if you could get a piece of one of Iwa's spikes, Tooru faired better but they quickly took the lead. You grab Oikawa's arm, causing him to look at you curiously.

"set it to me, but I'll set it back. You spike it," you said, finishing your sentence by looking at him.

He considers it.

"break it up love birds!" Iwa shouted at you. Ryu making obnoxious kissing noises behind him. You quickly let go of his arm to flip her off, causing her to burst out laughing.

Iwa serves.

"it's mine!" Tooru yells. Mid jump, he faces you, the subtlest of winks as the ball flies into the air.

Smiling, you angle your body for a spike, Ryu taking the bait, but at the last moment, your hand sent the ball perpendicular to the net, straight into Oikawa's hand. The ball whizzing past Iwa's ear.

The adrenaline getting the better of you as you both embrace, celebrating a successful kill.

You revel in you best friend and her stoic boyfriend exchanging a bewildered look.

At the end of the game Oikawa offers to drive you home, when out of the way of prying eyes, he leans against his car. "Before your cousin goes to nationals, he and shorty should play against us."

"Yeah and maybe Tobio can set for me one round," you say, playing with the hem of his shirt, "but if there's any funny business from you, I'm calling it off."

"Who, me??" he jokes, aware of his history with your family.

You don't respond, opting to gently press your lips to his. He returns the kiss, cupping your face.

________________

Did I write myself into the story? ┐( ∵ )┌ Maybe a little...

I'm also not opposed to doing a part two, so lemme know in the comments ( ꈍᴗꈍ)

Also not me writing my first Haikyuu fic be Oikawa when I wanna break his knees 🥴🤚 (couldn't resist tho he's been on my mind, especially with glasses 🥵🤒)

Also also not me writing this from 1:30 am to 8am then had half my work deleted so I had to redo it the following night 🤪👈

[mauvefayette6]

hey! could i request something with a female reader whos the granddaughter of mr nolan? shes like really nice and kind but is one of those people to cry really easily over small things. and a lot of students dont like her but she tries to be nice, and like she manages to befriend the poes. maybe she finds out about the dead poets society but instead of telling she secretly leaves new poetry books for them or leaves them food and stuff. thank you!

Goodbye Home || Poets x fem!reader

"What don't you get?!" Yelled the tutor after slamming their fists on the textbook.

"Please stope yelling!" The poor girl cried covering her face with her hands.

"Stop crying, how do you expect to get into Harvard if you can't do basic math?!" The tutor shouted again.

"I do get it I just have some troubles getting there," she muttered bringing her hands down from her face as she glared at the floor.

"This session is over, you don't have the cells in your brain to do these simple trigonometry questions." The tutor slammed the textbook closed as they stormed out the room leaving the scared young girl sitting on the desk chair.

She sighed as she got up and sadly made her way to her dorm room. She wasn't going to make it far in life if she couldn't even do basic trigonometry.

"I'm a failure," she frowned as she sat on her bed. Her roommate, Rebecca, looked over to her from her desk.

"The tutor yelled at you again?" She laughed. "I don't know why Mr. Nolan tries so hard, you'll never even make it to a community college."

"Shut up, I'm trying really hard!" She shouted as she began crying again. She stormed out the room as she mindlessly ran towards the forest.

She liked the trees and the nature, she always felt at home when she was with nature. She wandered and wandered until she heard voices. She grabbed a stick just in case she needed to defend herself.

She got closer and closer to the source of the voices until she noticed a cave she hadn't seen before. She listened in as she tried to hide herself.

"Poetry?" She mumbled surprised as she heard a line from a Walt Whitman poem. She adored poetry and often read poetry when she got the chance. Her English professor Mr. Keating gives her poetry books he thinks she'd like.

She heard them began to chant and dance around and took that as a sign to begin leaving. She ran as quickly as she could back to the school.

"Poetry? Boys in a cave reading poetry?" She repeated to herself as she walked towards her room making sure she was as quiet as possible.

She went into her bed covering herself as she stared at the blank wall. Boys, in the woods, after hours, reading poetry? Questions raced around her head as she slowly fell asleep.

"Wake up!" Screamed her roommate, this scared the girl awake from a dream she wish she hadn't awoken from.

"I'm up," she sighed getting out of bed.

"Hurry and get dressed, breakfast starts in 10 minutes," Rebecca said before walking out the room and towards the dining hall.

"My grandfather wanted to talk to me before breakfast," she cried as she hurried to dress herself. She was down the stairs when she realized she forgot her shoes and ran back to get them.

Rushing to her grandfathers room she opened the door breathing heavily.

"Sorry sir, I wasn't-" she was interrupted by him as he raised a finger motioning for her to hold her tongue.

"I'm tired of these excuses." He began, "As headmaster of this school it brings me great shame that my sons only child can't do not even the most basics of Trigonometry."

"Sir-" she began trying to explain herself.

"You stay silent whilst I'm speaking!" He shouted. She stepped back in fear as she lowered her head trying to keep the tears in.

"I cannot continue to defend you and your outrages stupidity. I'm the laughingstock of the staff, at my own school!" He continued, "look at me when I'm speaking!"

She quickly looked up trying her best to hold in her tears.

"Improve your grades and become top of the school or I'm sending you to the all girls school in France, you understand?" He asked with his best stern face.

"Yes sir," she said looking at him trying to hide her fear.

"You can go eat your breakfast, if you still have time," he muttered the last part as he continued what he was doing. She walked out, she hadn't realized that she was holding her breath. She allowed the tears to fall from her eyes as she quietly sobbed all the way back to the dining hall where she only had five minutes to finish whatever was on her plate.

"What's with the long face?" Rebecca joked as her and her little clique laughed.

"You jerk," she muttered once she was out of sight. She couldn't help but feel isolated, the whole school knew that Mr. Nolan was her grandfather.

(Y/n) Nolan, the inly grandchild of Mr. Nolan and his son Micheal Nolan. Her father passed away during a trip to Norway. Her mother was absent and frequented bars and prison.

She forgave her mother for abandoning her years ago but never forgave her father. She blamed everything on his death. Her relationship with her grandfather, her grades, and her mother alcoholism.

"Meeting tonight," she heard someone whisper. She was snapped away from her thoughts and the familiarity of the voice.

"The boys," she mumbled under her breath as she took notice of a brunette boy walking with a dirty blonde boy. "Neil and Todd?" She muttered.

Mr. Keating was her favorite teacher at Welton and the only reason her grade in English was amazing. He grabbed her attention unlike any other professor had done before. Of course Mr. McAllistor attempts to catch students attention but fails.

"Neil and Todd are Keatings favorite students," she said out loud. "Of course they would start a secret society."

"Talking to yourself are we?" She heard someone say followed by snickers. "Not only are we dumb but also crazy."

"Shit up Rebecca!" She shouted holding back her tears before storming away. No matter where she went Rebecca would be there, not even in the comfort of a dorm room could keep her away. The irony is that her entire educational career they have been roommates and never got along.

She sneaked into the kitchens knowing the cooks were on their break. She began to make her specialty. She enthusiastically mixed the ingredients as she cooked them. After twenty or so minutes it was all ready. She quietly walked out and into the woods. Of course she passed by her dorm to retrieve a certain book she adored.

"Just say hi," she muttered over and over again as she walked to the cave. It took her a while to figure out where it was. As soon as she arrived she sat on a rock debating if she should stay or if she should go.

She heard crunching and footsteps nearing. She looked at the container of food and then at the book before deciding to leave. She left the stuff as she hurried away running and running until she arrived at her dorm room.

"Mr. Nolan was looking for you, he told me to tell you to go to his office immediately." Rebecca said dully.

"Did he say what for?" She asked and Rebecca just shrugged before returning to her homework.

(Y/n) made her way towards her grandfathers office. She knocked twice before going in as she saw her grandfather pacing the room.

"You wanted to see me sir?" She asked catching Mr. Nolan's attention.

"Where were you?!" He shouted angrily catching her by surprise.

"I-" she was interrupted again,

"Never mind that! Very important people are coming in two months to observe the school and the overall average of the school," he began nervously. "We are an exemplary school, it's just you and Mr. Dalton."

"Me?" She asked astonished.

"You and Mr. Dalton are messing up the schools average!" He shouted angrily. "I want you to retrieve Mr. Charles Dalton every Tuesday's for tutoring, I need the average to go up!"

"I don't know a Charles Dalton sir," she said in her most confident voice.

"Then look for him, I can't do everything for you." He grumbled. "You're dismissed."

She walked out his office confused as she began her search for a Charles Dalton. She walked towards her dorm room and opened her Chemistry book.

"Going to try to do homework?" Rebecca mumbled her eyes still on her book.

"Yeah, why?" (Y/n) muttered back still looking at the pages of her textbook.

"I don't know why you bother. Your abilities obviously lie elsewhere." Rebecca turned to look at her causing (Y/n) to turn and look at her.

Rebecca sat there holding up (Y/n)'s private journal. An expression of shock, disgust and betrayal was summoned upon her face.

"My journal?!" She exclaimed standing up tears threaten to fall from her eyes. "Thats my private journal!"

"If it was so private why leave it on top of your desk?" She smirked throwing the journal on her bed. "Nothing interesting anyways. I couldn't imagine living such a worthless and boring life."

(Y/n) stood up and walked out tears falling from her eyes as she attempted and failed to wipe them away. Again and again the tears fell from her eyes as small sobs escaped her lips.

"I can't believe she would stoop this low. Digging in my private thoughts? I couldn't imagine why!" She cried. She was now outside with the trees and nature like she wished she could always be.

She heard laughter and boys making jokes, its the secret club she found about yesterday night. She stood up and dusted herself up as she walked back to the school determined to befriend them somehow.

She envied their friendship in the best possible way. Considering that she's only ever heard them laughing with each other. After a while of debating wether she should return to her dorm room or not. She entered it, where else would she sleep? She wasn't exactly welcomed anywhere else.

She decided to make a plan before sleeping, she'd find out their meeting days and leave them gifts (food, books, ideas, etc).

The following day she crept behind Neil and Todd as they talked to a very handsome boy about their year.

"Meeting tonight, you can't miss out," Neil smiled before walking away. This afternoon? So soon already? She asked herself as she continued to walk deep in thought.

She accidentally bumped into someone as she stumbled backwards almost falling.

"Watch it!" Shouted a boys voice as he turned around.

"I'm so sorry!" She apologized quickly, "are you okay?"

"Yeah. I'm fine. Are you?" He asked nonchalantly.

"Yeah, the names (Y/n)-" but she was once again interrupted.

"You're Nolan's kid?" He asked as she nodded. "Charlie Dalton."

"Charles Dalton?" She repeated as he gave her a confused nod. "I'm so glade I finally found you!"

"You were looking for me? Perhaps for an autograph?" He laughed smirking.

"You wish, Mr. Nolan wants us go meet up at the Library I suppose for tutoring. Every Tuesday." She smiled as Charlie rolled his eyes.

"I've been told by letter but I refuse to waste my Tuesday's on tutoring." He shrugged before leaving. She followed behind closely in attempts to convince him of going.

"Please Mr. Dalton! Mr. Nolan will be greatly angered if you don't show up! It's for the good of school!" She shouted as Charlie began to speed up.

"My father's Mr. Dalton. I'm Charlie!" He stopped angrily glaring at her as she attempted to catch her breath.

"Please go, I'll be in loads of trouble if you don't show up, please come?" She begged again with hopeful eye.

"Okay, I'll think about okay?" He said sighing in defeat.

"Thank you so much, it won't be for very long!" She smiled before walking away happily. She walked into the kitchens again and prepared her best deserts that she could think of.

She wondered the library for hours grabbing poetry books and writing down her favorite ones into a small notebook. She decided that this will be her project. She'll write her favorite poems on a notebook until she mustered the courage to befriend them.

She dug in her closet for any poetry books she had, her father was an avid lover of poetry. She smiled as she pulled out her father's favorite poetry book.

She gently put it inside her picnic basket along with the cookies as she quickly walked into the woods smiling as she heard the birds chirp. Although a rather long journey she sat in the rock she previously had.

She smiled as she sat the basket on the ground on top of a blanket she decided to bring. She smiled as she looked around. She wondered how the meetings went, if all they really did was read poetry to each other.

She heard rustling and laughter and took this a sign to hurry out of there. She ran back to the school and towards her dorm room.

"Where were you?" Rebecca asked with a smirk.

"Why does it matter to you?" She muttered angrily sitting on her desk as Rebecca shrugged and went back to her homework.

(Y/n) attempted to finish up her Chemistry project due tomorrow which unsurprisingly failed miserably. She was never good at Chemistry although she didn't completely hate it.

The next morning she woke late as ever and dressed late as ever. She barely even had time to eat a muffin before classes started.

She walked inside Mr. Keating classroom a great smile on her face as she sat in front.

Welton had barely allowed girls into the school after Henley Hall was burnt down a few years back. In attempts to make it work the girls and boys were separated, there were only a handful of girl students. The girls had one schedule as the boys had another schedule.

Luckily for the next class they'd be allowed into Henley Hall as it's quickly being rebuilt.

Mr. Keating was (Y/n) favorite teacher, she didn't have top marks in this class as she didn't have top marks in any other class but Mr. Keating didn't seem to pay much attention to that.

Classes were over as (Y/n) made her way back to the library to write down some more of her favorite poems. Maybe one day she'll be confident enough to finally talk to them. She sighed as she finished writing down the last poem.

She walked to the kitchen and baked and cooked a few things. Hopefully no ones was severely allergic to anything. She smiled at the thought that maybe one day they'll know her name.

Just like the day before she dropped the basket off before fleeing. This went on for weeks than a whole month went by and she was done writing down poems in the notebook.

"Done already?" She muttered to herself. She sighed before going back to her dorm room. She sat on the bed before checking the time. "Ten minutes."

She contemplated her next move, her grades hadn't improved neither had Charlie's. Mr. Nolan was fuming and she just knew she would soon be kicked out. She received a letter yesterday morning during breakfast.

She began getting ready, she packed ever article of clothes and items she owned. She looked at the dorm room sadly before making her way to her grandfathers office. She met Charlie half way there who didn't seem to be worried.

"Why do you think he asked to see us?" Charlie whispered and she shrugged.

"Come in!" Mr. Nolan shouted a tone of rage lingered as they entered the office.

(Y/n) stood tensely and Charlie looked unbothered and unnerved.

"You may be asking why I asked to see you two after classes," he began as he circled them. "As you may know, you two have the lowest marks at this school which is saying a lot as most don't go under a 97%."

She gulped knowing that her lowest mark was in trigonometry being a 39%.

Charlie shrugged nonchalantly, he was the richest student at Welton and if he really wanted he could use his dad's money to keep him in.

"I have talked to your father Charles," Mr. Nolan began, "he agrees with me that you must put extra effort in your marks but we have come to an agreement so you're dismissed but we will be having another talk with your father in two weeks, understood?"

"Clear as water sir," Charlie smiled before walking out of the office room.

"I'm greatly disappointed in you, you're a Nolan for goodness sakes!" He shouted slamming his fists on his table.

"I swear I've been trying sir-" she frantically attempted to explain but Mr. Nolan wanted to hear none of it.

"These are not the principles I've raised you on. Writing poetry and fantasizing about boys." (Y/n) tensed up. "Your roommate Rebecca confided in me about what you're up to."

"Sir-" she once again attempted to explain herself.

"I want to hear no more of this, you're dismissed now." He pointed at the door as he resumed the paper work. She left the room crying and she continued to cry until she reached her dorm room.

"(Y/n)?" Rebecca said in a soft voice.

"How could you? Not only did you read my journal but told Mr. Nolan?" She asked trying to wipe away the tears.

"I-" but Rebecca couldn't finish her sentence as she looked away in shame.

"It's okay, I'm leaving the school anyways. Mr. Nolan's going to kick me out so what use is there in arguing?" She chuckled sadly before once again leaving the room.

She went down to the kitchen with her poetry journal in hand. She grabbed a few cookies before heading to the cave. She was unsure if she was going to see them or not but what difference did it make?

She sat on her usual spot her journal in one hand and the baked goods in the other. She waited, she didn't care for how long she would have to.

That's when she heard laughter and footsteps. She stood ip and dusted her skirt standing tensely.

"(Y/n)?" Charlie Dalton said almost surprised as he entered the room.

"Hi," she smiled awkwardly waving.

"You know her?" Neil whispered and Charlie nodded before looking at the desserts in her hand.

"Are you the person that's been leaving us desserts?" A ginger boy with curly hair asked pointing at the basket.

"I- yes?" She said hesitantly.

"Well we finally put a face to the greatest baker in the world!" An overly optimistic Knox Overstreet smiled.

"I'm Steven Meeks, this is Gerard, Todd, Knox, Neil, Richard and as you may already know Charlie." He smiled introducing everyone.

"I'm (Y/n) Nolan, Mr. Nolan's ex-granddaughter," she laughed sadly.

"Ex? How can someone be someones ex-granddaughter?" Neil asked.

"I've been disowned?" She said in a questioning tone as she tried to hide her tears.

"Does that mean you're leaving Welton?" Charlie asked.

"Yeah, he's ashamed of me and honestly being under his rules are hell and I'd rather be by my own!" She smiled successfully.

"Good on you!" Neil said patting her back.

"Where do you plan to go?" Todd asked nervously.

"My aunt from my moms said she'd take me in, she's all the way in California, I called her and she agreed!" She smiled widely, "I leave next weekend for California."

"We'll miss you even though we barely met each other," Knox smiled bringing her in for a hug.

"I'll miss you guys too, here have this," she smiled reaching for her bag. "I gathered all my favorite poetry just for you guys to enjoy."

And just like that they enjoyed a meeting where nothing else mattered but each others company. (Y/n) left the next weekend as she had joined them for many of there following meetings.

She felt at home for once in her life although she was sad to depart them she knew it was for the best.

[enhyupn]

the perfect date! chapter one

masterlist | next

a series in which enhypen’s 02s competitive side shines through when trying to get your attention. the only solution to end this tiring rivalry? three dates with each of them in the course of three weeks.

paring: 02s x gn!reader

word count: 3k

genre: fluff, angst, high school!au, someone’s gonna end up heartbroken

warnings: swearing, violence is mentioned

ask to be on taglist, updates are irregular

a/n i literally had to dig this out of my drafts so i don’t even know myself what i’ve written PLSSS

taglist: @dchannie17 @simluvbot @jaeyuni @neocrush

falling in love at the age of twelve wasn’t what you were expecting while learning basic algebra. being heartbroken at the age of thirteen while reciting shakespeare was also not as expected. the cause of both of these unforgettable moments? park jongseong, or otherwise known as jay to almost everyone around you. your first love was something that stuck with you, even in the present. he was your seat mate in three of your classes and the person you would ask for the homework right before it’s due date. it was a one sided crush, it was quite obvious to you. he was popular, sporty and incredibly talkative, you were one out of maybe twenty people that had a huge bulging crush on him. 

at age fourteen you vowed to forget about him, the previous year he had moved to america to improve his english abilities which had put you in a miserable mood for almost all of your middle school life. who else was supposed to give you the math homework? how were you supposed to feel excited to go to school when jay wasn’t going to be there? your barely-a-teen mindset made you think you were never going to get over him.

flashing forward to freshmen year of high school, new school, new class and a clean slate to basically pretend you were a completely different person. no more being dependent on other people! no more trying to do anything to get friends! no more—

“hi, my name’s jake” oh boy.

and that’s how jake sim entered your life. it was his australian accent peaking through his words as he flashed you an energetic smile that pulled you in. you could of fallen for him at that instance, well you could of fallen for him throughout your years of friendship but the returning thought of your first love entirely stopped that process. jake sim was like a breath of fresh air, he was everywhere you went and had your back for everything.

you were his best friend and you thought of him like one too, you two were practically glued to one another. of course you had side comments, gossip that the two of you were dating or one of you two had an one sided crush (the latter part of that sentence we aren’t going to get that much into) but it didn’t make you two feel awkward or anything like that. with jake you almost forgot about jay (algebra and shakespeare being the things that stimulates the memory of him). although it wasn’t like jake was a rebound, you think yourself you’ve felt happier when you were around jake. i mean jake’s definitely popular, rivalling jay’s popularity in middle school even. if you asked anyone in your school who they’ve had a crush on, jake sim is number one on that list. he had some type of air around him, always being incredibly positive, he quite literally radiated the colour yellow. maybe you had a type when it came to people you associated with.

the close second on that list was maybe the complete opposite to jake in terms of their public image to the school. park sunghoon was the class president in your class. academically gifted, popular with the female population in your school, a talented figure skater, a stereotypical cold and distant beauty, there were a lot of layers to sunghoon. you personally had never really talked to him, the only time being when he had dropped papers on the ground in the hallways, maybe a few months ago. you helped him pick them up before carrying them with him to the teacher’s staff room. even then, you two had barely shared any words during that whole incident besides a “thank you”.

still, you could say you respected sunghoon. i mean who could have the energy to do his whole schedule besides him? you definitely could not. plus the way he was one of the most popular bachelors added to his busy schedule. the most recent valentine’s day was the proof as well as it was record breaking in your terms of your classes history with the day. having jake and sunghoon meant there were a lot of people trying to confess their feelings entering your classroom. last year, jake was stopped twenty three times the whole day, beating out sunghoon’s twenty sudden confessions. this year, there a sudden decline in jake’s confessions, a whopping three people only expressing their feelings desperately to him as he politely declined. sunghoon’s number rose by about ten people, expected but still a little shocking.

it wasn’t like the two of them cared about it, the only thing they did care about though was being polite when rejecting people. you couldn’t really sympathise with jake or sunghoon whenever they had to prepare yet another rejection, the only confession you’ve received being from yoon hyunsuk that was quite awkward considering he was a family friend and you saw him almost every week after you had rejected him.

anyways, returning to present time where you were doing your regular daily routine for a weekday. it always went waking up way too early, under eating breakfast in hopes to get the bus on time, meeting jake on the bus, walking to class with him and trying to not fall asleep in the middle of math class. it started off completely normal, maybe a little too normal.

“did you hear?” jake whispered in your ear. the two of you were supposed to individually practice questions but the chattery side of jake honestly got the best of him at moments like these.

“what is it?” you reply back quietly.

“a transfer student is coming in after lunch ends, one from america” now that really got your attention. you turn to him with your eyes wide in surprise, curiosity taking over you completely as you ignore the difficult question in front of you.

“did you see them?” jake couldn’t help but feel the sudden heat rush to his face as your sparkling eyes met his. “how do you even know this?”.

“ryujin told me plus, i saw a bit of him at the principal’s office” you looked behind him, trying to get a glimpse of the mentioned girl. the concentrated look on her face as she tried to solve the maths problem was evidence to you that she hadn’t heard her name being mentioned by jake. “said something about bleached hair that was definitely going to get the teachers mad”.

“now you got me excited” your small smile only sending butterflies to his stomach. you turn your head back down to face the still blank piece of paper, deciding that it was about time you started on that question.

“y’know he kinda looked familiar” the questioning tone in jake’s voice caught your attention, turning back to him in confusion.

“what do you mean?” a pout formed on your face. more confusion took over your face when you realised jake looked away from you quite fast, his ears turning a slight shade of pink.

“i— i don’t know” he silently cursed himself for letting himself fall deeper into his one sided crush from only small moments. his sudden black mind caused him to forget what he was meant to say to you, only leaving you puzzled by his words.

jake sitting opposite to you as you ate your unsettlingly warm sandwich, was really the only thing really going on during lunch that say. although weirdly enough, park sunghoon’s glances and staring was a new addition to your lunch time. even without directly looking at him, you could feel his eyes as they dug into the back of your head.

“you know you can relax, sunghoon’s not gonna bite you” jake commented on your stiffness. you bit your lip anxiously when you realised how loud he was being, not wanting sunghoon to know he was currently the topic of conversation between the two of you.

“if you speak any louder he might hear you” you angrily whispered to his face as you rolled your eyes. the boy chuckled before placing a small ball of rice into his mouth.

“he won’t idiot” jake tells you with maybe little too much confidence. you noticed that sunghoon had looked away from you abruptly, his cheeks visibly reddening as he faced his desk. “oh”.

“why are you like this?” you expressed you concerns. jake shrugged his shoulders, not understanding where you were coming from. “i should be excited for the new student, not trying to tame you from embarrassing our class president!”, your voice lowering at the last few words.

“i think he wants to tell you something”

“i think i want you to shut up” you muttered and you took another bite from your sandwich, wincing at the warm tomato and soggy lettuce that came into contact with your mouth.

jake was about to fire back but was only stopped by your phone violently vibrating on the table. your eyes widen in embarrassment as you frantically tried to get to it. you turn your phone to look at the screen, a notification telling you someone was calling you. jake tried to take a peek at your phone, only abandoning the plan when he saw you glare at him.

“hey yeojin” a small smile forming on your lips when reciting your middle school friend’s name. im yeojin was your best friend up until high school when her parents made her go to an all girls boarding school instead of your co-ed high school. she hated it so much when it was initially brought up by them but from the looks of it now, she’s actually enjoying herself. yeojin was the only person, excluding jake, that ever knew about your crush on jay. jake found out when the two of you were looking through old middle school pictures, you pointed at jay in a class photo and that’s the story on how jake knows about jay’s existence. “what’s up?”.

“i’m not supposed to be on my phone” her voice was frantic. you knew from her many, many letters that her school was strict when it came to personal phones. she was only allowed it everyday for thirty minutes during lunch on the weekdays, three hours on the weekends. “but, i have some exciting news for you”.

“what is it?” jake could see your eyes glisten in curiosity. he chuckled to himself as he placed his chin in his palm, his full attention being placed onto you.

“guess”

“i can’t believe you’re doing this right now” you squinted in annoyance at her playfully attitude.

“i was kidding” yeojin’s contagious laugh caught up to you, making it look like you forgot about her joke on you. “but you know how you’re old instagram account got deleted because of—”

“don’t say it” you interrupted through gritted teeth. jake laughed loudly at your reaction, catching the attention of sunghoon yet again.

“anyways, and you basically lost all of our middle school classes handles?”

“yes, i remember it all a little too well” embarrassment laced through your words as you remembered the never-to-be-mentioned-again memory.

“anyways so jay...” your eyes lit up at the mention of his name, an unsettling feeling in jake’s stomach appearing due to your expression. “he’s back!”.

“he’s back?” you stood up from your seat in surprise. your class looked at you in concern before you apologised as you embarrassing lowered yourself down to your seat. “you’re not kidding me right?”.

“why would i lie?” you could feel yeojin’s eyes rolling through the phone. “oh shit, patrol’s back. gotta go, i’ll send a letter soon—”

jake watched as you ended the call staying seated with your eyes widened, unable to process what had happen. you couldn’t pinpoint any of the emotions you were feeling, were you happy? anxious? scared? you had no clue. you bite your lip, hoping the action can help your blank mind.

“so—”

“is this 3-A?” a loud voice entering the class interrupted jake, causing the boy to sigh out of frustration.

you turned your head in the direction. you felt yourself shake in more shock when you realised who the person at the entrance was, and from the way they looked back at you, he realised who you were to. you abruptly looked away, facing the window on your left with your face burning up as you held up a hand to cover your face.

jake’s puzzled expression took over his face before putting the pieces together. his heart was beating at such a fast rate that he felt breathless, he didn’t think he was at all ready to see his crush’s first love entering their own classroom.

he watched as sunghoon did his usual mannerly class president thing, standing up from his seat all professional and kind before making his way to jay with an open hand for him to shake.

“hello, you’re earlier than expected” sunghoon smiled, unsure if it was genuine or not due to the fact the boy in front of him didn’t even acknowledge his presence. he dropped his hand before letting out a quiet irritated sigh, trying to figure out what he had his eyes on.

even with sunghoon’s growing annoyed expression, jay’s eyes were still trained on you. it was like you were frozen, no muscle in your body allowed you to move as you blankly stared outside the window. the only thing moving was your eyes shutting completely as you felt footsteps coming your way, instantly knowing who it belonged to.

“y/n” a cheery voice made it’s way to jay’s words.

sunghoon raised an eyebrow at the two of you, not entirely following this whole situation. how did he know you? why did you seem so embarrassed? bashful even? and why was jake staring at jay like he just killed his family?

“j-jay hey, y-you’re back” you finally turned your head, however still unable to look at him in the eyes. jay chuckled at the way you tripped over your words, memories of the two of you from middle school playing in his head. he glanced down beside you, the empty seat almost begging him to sit there.

you almost feel yourself jump into your seat when you noticed jay was pulling back the chair beside you as he prepared himself to sit down. at this point jake’s face was visibly red, glaring at jay for reasons that cannot be exactly explained and sunghoon’s feet had even brought him all the way to your desk meaning he had a full view of this whole mess. you four had the whole classes attention, even with some whispering to each other about you. 

“it’s been a while” jay smiled through his words as he sat down, his position facing you as you struggled to make eye contact. you could feel yourself sweating from the unbearable heat coming from your cheeks, your head still blank unable to think properly.

“you two know each other?” sunghoon asked curiously as he placed his hand on his hip. you don’t know why but you cursed sunghoon silently in your head for asking that question, the thought of jay telling him you were only his friend pained you.

“yeah, middle school classmates” jay finally acknowledged the boy’s presence. sunghoon nodded in reply as he scanned your expression, unable to understand how you were feeling. “i had— i can’t say it it’s too embarrassing actually” jay rubbed his neck embarrassingly before turning away in embarrassment, only for his eyes to meet jakes.

“no, carry on” jake’s few words came out as a little passive aggressive but didn’t particularly offend jay in any way. it was quite obvious to everyone but you that jake was being a little jealous, possessive maybe from the way he glared at jay and sunghoon, who frankly didn’t really do anything up until this point.

“oh okay...” jay didn’t know why he felt nervous. maybe it was cause jake couldn’t keep his glare off of him or he was about to regret his next few words. “i had the biggest crush on y/n”.

now that got your attention. with wide eyes your eyes made contact with his at last, his cheeks were tinted pink and he had a bashful smile spread across his lips. you could even see jake in the corner of your eyes closing his mouth as he tried to recover from the shock. while sunghoon, who was right behind jay, looked like he wasn’t completely over the shocking revelation.

“i—” you felt speechless. this was the first time you’ve heard anything about this, you didn’t even think you were ever going to hear those words. you once again tried to open your mouth in an attempt to reply but was just met with nothing.

“they didn’t like me back though” jay continued. you looked at him like he was crazy, your eyebrows raised with confusion taking over your face.

“but i—”

“y/n can we talk....” jake’s voice interrupting your soon to be confession as he stared at you with a serious expression. you turned to him, once again not fully processing this whole situation. “...outside the classroom?”.

you glanced back to jay who looked visibly irritated, rolling his eyes as he ran his fingers through his hair. sunghoon just stood behind him, staring at jake with what looked to be some sort of fear. letting out a sigh, you stood up from your seat as you looked jake in the eyes.

“let’s go outside jake” you were slightly thankful for his sudden request due to you not wanting to be stuck in that suffocating environment. you watched as he stood up from his seat, his expression changing into quite an anxious one.

the curiosity didn’t leave you as you followed jake out of the classroom, you even heard your classmates whisper to each other as you passed them. you didn’t even want to look back to see the face of jay, you had ended your long awaited reunion short just to go talk to your best friend by the staircase. jake glanced around the area to make sure nobody was there to listen to what he had to say.

“thanks for getting me out of there—”

“i like you” those three words almost made you faint on the spot.

was it time to wake up now?

[disgruntledspacedad]

Aftershocks (2/5)

The Better Love Series 

pairing: Javier Peña x Fem!Reader (Ears). Part of the Better Love ‘verse. 

summary: That bomb fucked you up a little more than you thought. h/c, fluff.

words: 2.5k 

warnings: 18+ - canon typical violence, lots of medical stuff in this one.

a/n: unbeta’d. I had a surprise day off, so enjoy the second installment of Aftershocks much sooner than I had anticipated. More notes to follow!

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five 

MASTERLIST

You’re escorted beyond the heavy double doors of the emergency department in a hurry. It probably has a lot to do with Javi busting into the waiting area with you in his arms, flashing his DEA badge and barking out orders in irate Spanish. 

Honestly, you wish he wouldn’t make such a scene. Sitting still in the car had allowed you to catch your breath a little. You feel like shit, sure, but you’re pretty sure you aren’t actively dying.

Try telling him that, though.

The triage room is little more than a curtain masking a dimly lit corner. You’re answering what questions you can in halting Spanish, but Javi can see that you’re overwhelmed. 

“Ella habla ingles.” His tone earns him a dirty look, but the nurse nods, placing an oxygen probe on your finger and frowning up at the monitor. Both of you follow her gaze, noticing that the number reads 87. 

“The doctor will see you soon,” she says carefully. Her English is heavily accented, and suddenly, you’re grateful beyond words that you have Javi here to translate. “Here. You’ll wear this.” She winds the oxygen tubing beneath your chin and around your ears. The oxygen is dry, burning your nose and making your face twitch in annoyance, but you can’t deny that you feel better with it on.

The nurse leaves you then, pulling the curtain closed behind her. Javi continues to stare at the monitor with his arms folded across his chest as the number on the screen climbs to 89, then to 92, the soft tone of the blips rising in pitch with each subtle improvement.

He’s thinking again, you can tell. 

“Javi?” You reach for his hand, tugging at his fingers. Instinctively, you know that leaving him alone to stew right now cannot be a good thing.

He glances down at you, all dark, glittering eyes and terse expression, and worry clinches in your gut. “You okay?”

Javi snorts. “Really, Ears.” You can just see him fighting the urge to roll his eyes. “That’s a hell of a question, coming from you.”

You decide to shoot for levity. “I’m great, thanks for asking.”

That earns you a pathetic, lopsided lip twitch. You count it as a win anyway.

The doctor never shows. Javi grumbles and broods. A little while later, somebody comes with a wheelchair to whisk you away for an x-ray, and no matter how much blustering and badge-flashing and protesting he does, Javi is told firmly to stay put. 

He’s pacing agitatedly in the hallway when return. Apparently, it had felt like an eternity for him. 

In reality, you’d been gone less than twenty minutes.

It seems that your x-ray has earned you some attention, because things start happening a little faster now. People are in and out, one nurse bustling in to wordlessly draw an entire fistful of little color coded tubes of your blood, another working on IV access in your opposite arm. You take it all stoically, caught between watching in fascination as the nurse tapes the catheter in place with practiced efficiency and wondering why all of this can’t just happen in one stick. 

A little while later, the same nurse returns with a bag of fluid. “Seca,” she informs you as she stretches to hang it on the hook in the wall. 

“She says you’re dehydrated,” Javi translates. His face is a stone wall, the subtle clench of his jaw the only hint of the emotion that churns beneath. You can just imagine him kicking himself for not making you eat or drink. 

You bite back a shiver. The saline is cold in your arm.

They move you to a real room not long after that. It’s only marginally bigger than your corner in the emergency department, crammed with two rickey, uncomfortable beds separated by another dingy curtain. Thankfully, you don’t have a roommate for the moment.

You let Javi handle the paperwork as you change out of his sweats and into the itchy, open-backed gown that you’ve been provided with. Even with the oxygen, moving around still requires that you pause to catch your breath, and you’re grateful for the opportunity to sit when you’re done, even if the hospital bed you’re on is squeaky and uncomfortable.

Once the documents are signed and the nurses are gone, silence settles thickly between you. Javi is standing with his fingers fisted into his hips, glaring daggers at the clock on the wall. He hasn’t spoken in a long time.

Again, you feel that burning need to pull him out of his head. “Not really set up for visitors, is it?” you ask wryly. It’s a stupid, pointless thing to say, but you’re just trying to fill the void.

Javi glances around the room, raising his brows at what he observes. There’s no chair and no free space, nowhere for him to sit. Sighing deeply, he yanks back the curtain that divides the room and eases carefully onto the bed opposite of you, leaning forward with his arms folded on his knees.

You grit your teeth. Really, you wouldn’t have minded him settling down on your bed, but the more time you spend with Javi, the more you’re starting to realize that he withdraws when he’s feeling wrong-footed. As annoying as it is, the distance he’s putting between you is just par for the course, and it’s just not worth addressing right now.

“How are you feeling?” he asks softly, pinning you with a sharp, assessing stare.

“Better,” you answer automatically, forcing some cheerfulness into your tone. Honestly, you’re far more worried about him than you are about you. 

Javi raises a skeptical brow, clearly doubting you.

“No, really!” 

Your protest makes him shake his head in dark amusement. “What am I gonna do with you, Ears?” he wonders aloud.

You’re ready to supply several very detailed answers to that question, all of them interrupted as your doctor finally breezes into the room. 

“About fucking time,” Javi mutters under his breath as he rises to his feet.

“Hola, hola. I’m Dr. Perez.” Dr. Perez says, actually managing to sound a tiny bit apologetic. “Forgive the delay, por favor. I know it must seem that emergencies are the most non-emergent situation in the hospital, but, I promise you, we are working hard behind the scenes.”

 You decide immediately that you like Dr. Perez. He’s not a big man, compact and clean cut, with just the faintest dusting of silver at his temples and a warm, genuine smile. 

Javi must be thinking along similar lines, because he comes to stand just at the edge of your shoulder, looming dark and foreboding at your side as Dr. Perez approaches your bedside. 

Oh, now you’ll stick close, you think fondly, trying to find a little amusement in Javi’s behavior. Everything about this situation is entirely new, totally incongruous with the cool, suave Javier Peña that you thought you’d known, and a malicious, possessive part of your brain is just eating up the implications.

“I understand you were involved in the bombing in downtown Bogotá, correct?” Dr. Perez’s grip is firm and cool as he shakes your hand. 

“Yes, that’s correct.” You’re acutely aware of Javi standing stiffly beside you, watching your every move.

“Most unfortunate,” Perez shakes his head in a show of sympathy, and you manage to believe him. “And the breathing problems, they began later, no?”

“Yes,” you answer, surprised that he would guess with such accuracy. “I was okay afterward. Maybe a little bit sore. But not hurt.”

“Ella ha estado tosiendo sangre,” Javi interjects quickly. You’re not sure what he’s saying, but Dr. Perez’s eyes flicker in his direction, a swift, meaningful look passing between them. 

“Veo.” Dr. Perez says smoothly. He frowns down at you. “And how for were you from the blast zone?”

You think back, willing yourself to relive the memory of the morning in clinical detail. “I was crossing the street,” you say slowly.  “Headed home.” You do some quick mental math in your head, analyzing the width of Circular against the image of Emilio, waving. You’d been close enough to shout a greeting. “Forty feet. Maybe a little less.”

Beside you, Javi sucks in a sharp breath. 

Perez purses his lips. “Sí, eso lo haría.” He crosses the room, flicking a switch to illuminate a bright white panel built into the wall that you hadn’t noticed before. He shuffles through your chart, pulling out a dark film and pinning it to the light. 

It’s your chest x-ray. You can clearly see the curve of your ribs, stark white against the darker background of your lungs. In the middle of the film lies the dusky outline of what you assume is your heart. To the lower left, a patch of hazy, white blur mars the image. 

“This is the problem.” Perez points to the blur. “Pulmones magullados. Your lungs are bruised, see? This is common in blast zone survivors. The change in air pressure when the bomb ignites causes an injury to the lung tissue. You are bleeding just a little bit internally.”

You can damn near feel Javi gritting his teeth at that.

“But I felt fine,” you protest weakly, looking assentingly at the blob on the x-ray. It’s a pretty good size.

“Sí, you were fine.” Perez is nodding along with you, like he’d expected the argument. “That’s normal with this type of injury. You felt good immediately afterward because the bruise was new, the bleeding slight. But the bruise has gotten bigger, and you have gotten worse.” He indicates the oxygen that you are wearing with a grim nod. “You are a very lucky, mi amiga, to have walked away from that. Muy afortunada. Had you been closer…” Perez trails off, shaking his head somberly. “It does not bear thinking.”

He claps his hands, startling you away from the grisly images stirring in your mind. “There is good news, though!” Perez gestures toward the x-ray as a whole, circling over it with his index finger. “I see no rib fractures, nothing collapsed. Your breathing might get worse before it gets better, but it will get better. We will keep you under close watch until then.”

“Keep me?”

“Sí, you will be here.” Perez pins you with a no-nonsense stare, as if to curtail any protests before they come. “There’s another matter. You have a small concussion as well. To this area, here.” He taps the back of his own head with his hand. “From falling down, yes?”

You nod. The area he’s pointing to is right where your head hurts most, where you’d fallen backward after the blast. “Yes. It did knock me off my feet.” Apparently a with a little more force than you’d initially assumed.

Perez hums. “We will monitor that as well. You do not take blood thinners?”

“No, sir. No medications.”

“Bueno.” Dr. Perez seems genuinely pleased by this. “You’ve made my job very easy.” He gathers the film and shuffles it back into your chart, flopping it shut with a flourish. “Rest for you, Orejas. Time and sleep will do the best healing.”

“Orejas?” you can’t help but ask. It’s the name that Emilio had used for you, but you’re shocked that Perez knows it. 

Perez smiles. “I listen to my nurses. That is what they call you.”

“How much time?” Javi interrupts before you can respond. You’d nearly forgotten about him, as quiet as he’s been. 

Perez turns to address him for the first time. “It depends largely on her body. The concussion is small, and won’t require anything in the way of treatment. Her lungs, though…” Perez frowns down at the closed chart with a furrowed brow. “The contusion is still developing. A few days, a week, perhaps? I can say more tomorrow.” He turns back to you, sighing in sympathy. “I’m afraid you’re in for a stay, mi amiga.”

Well, fuck.

With that, Perez disappears just as quickly as he’d arrived, soft, quick footsteps echoing down the hallway, and silence falls once again over the room.

Javi doesn’t move, doesn’t speak. He’s standing very still, arms folded tightly across his chest with his thumbs digging into his armpits. The expression on his face is downright chilling. 

Your blood turns to ice.

“What the fuck, Ears?” he says very slowly, enunciating each syllable with deadly precision.

You glance up, suddenly hesitant to speak. The little movement must be enough to spur him on, though, because Javi fucking explodes. 

“Forty fucking feet!” he bites out, clawing angrily at his hair. He paces the tiny room, whirling as he runs out of space and pointing an accusing finger at you. “You told me you were across the street, Ears, not crossing it. There’s a big fucking difference.”

You blink at him, recalling the conversation you’d had in the embassy parking lot. 

Shit, he’s right.

“Why the hell did you lie to me?” There’s a subtle warble in his tone, a flicker of devastation in his eyes that’s quickly masked. 

Discomfort that has nothing to do with your injured lungs twinges in your chest. “I don’t know,” you answer miserably. You hadn’t thought of it as lying. At the time, you’d been overwhelmed by the situation and thoroughly confused by Javi’s erratic behavior, just desperate to get home and sleep off the worst morning of your life. “I didn’t want to upset you, I guess.” 

Javi laughs sarcastically. “Well, you’ve done a fucking fantastic job of that, haven’t you?” He throws his hands in the air, like he’s had it up to here with your shit. “Coughing up blood all over my kitchen floor. Christ, I should have known.”

Okay, now he’s being a little dramatic - the only blood you’d coughed up had been into your fingers, after all, but the protest is lost on you as you look him in the face. Javi’s eyes are deeply shadowed, his expression pained, his hair standing wildly from where he’s run his fingers through it. 

He looks thoroughly exhausted.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, dropping your gaze to the floor.

Javi huffs and looks away, clearly not ready to accept any apologies from you.

You don’t blame him. Throughout this entire screwed up relationship, you’ve done an absolutely piss poor job of putting yourself in Javi’s shoes, and it’s coming back to bite you in the ass.

You deserve his irritation, and more.

Javi’s pager beeps, the shrill sound of it slicing through the tension. He snatches it roughly off of his belt, frowning down at the display with squinted eyes.

You glance up at the clock on the wall. It’s pretty late, but given the day Javi’s had, it’s not outrageous to assume that somebody would need to be in touch with him at this hour.

 “I’ve got to take this,” Javi says tonelessly, hardly glancing up at you. If there’s any regret there, it’s buried very deeply. “I’ll see you later, Ears.”

He’s gone before you can get a word in edgewise.

♠

confessions/notes:

I speak one language poorly, and I’ve never extensively written a character who is not a primary English speaker (I’m not counting Javi here). Any critiques or corrections to my Spanish are very welcomed!

Up next: a look at things from Javi’s POV.

Spanish translations: 

She speaks English. 

Dry

She’s been coughing up blood.

I see. 

Yeah, that’ll do it.

ears

tags:@jedi-mando, @perropascal, @aerolanya, @pikemoreno, @bitchin-beskar, @mostly-megan, @huliabitch, @starsandmando, @starlight-starwrites​, @thirstworldproblemss, @knittingqueen13, @yespolkadotkitty​

Javier Peña tags: @magpie-to-the-morning, @tiffdawg, @danniburgh, @1800-fight-me​

To my taglist peeps, I’m sorry for tagging you guys three times in 24 hours. Again, chaotic jay cannot plan anything, like ever.

[dontbeunraisonable]

Little Yellow Flower - Kaminari Denki x GN!Reader

This was a request from my one of my darling amigas who is not on tumblr. Please enjoy!

Word Count: 1754

Warnings: swearing i guess, one (1) bad pick up line

Denki has to be the most dense person you have ever met in your life. The first day of class he was “laying on the charm”, showering compliments and offering to show you around the school even though you were both first years and he got lost looking for the bathroom.

The compliments were about anything from your eyes to your smile to the way you wrote your notes to the way you tied your tie. The dedication and attention was endearing. So, naturally, you flirted back.

You talked about how cute his smile is, how his training has improved his quirk, how funny he could be, his hair. You reverse uno card his ass and started using cheesy pick up lines.

“It’s handy I have my library card with me,” you said, jokingly lowering your invisible sunglasses,” ‘cause I’m definitely checking you out.”

A bunch of third years shushed you two as you both cracked up while (pretending to be) studying in the library. But it was worth the glares, as his giggling was the most wonderful thing you had ever heard in your life.

You always paired up with him for group projects, even though he sucks at them, just to have an excuse to sit with him and hang out one-on-one. Because you guys definitely did not work hard on those projects.

Unfortunately, he seemed oblivious to the fact that you liked him. So you slowly came to the conclusion that all his joking around was just that: jokes. You weren’t hurt or offended, as flirting between friends wasn’t malicious. He wasn’t leading you on or anything, you had just misread his intentions.

You just continued your flirtatiousness, but wondered if your conclusion changed your behaviour unknowingly. Were you flirting too often now? Too infrequently? Would he notice if there was a difference?

Luckily for you, Denki did not notice, as he was coming to the same conclusion to you, and was worrying about the same things. What if all his flirting just looked like joking around between two friends? That’s how it began, just goofing around with a cute classmate, but somewhere along the line, he realized that he actually did have feelings for his best friend.

No one noticed the new tension between the two of you, and each of you were hoping it was just your imagination that things were more awkward.

That brings us up to now, where you are currently herding a brain-dead Denki out of the training grounds. You weren’t sure why Aizawa Sensei kept putting you two together, but neither of you were complaining.

Today had been more combat training, and Denki had stayed intact for a while, but at the end he decided to go out with a bang. He did well, but now you had to drag his ass back to the locker rooms. You held his hand and slowly led him. He was babbling and wiggling around, getting distracted by everything. You were never letting Sensei assign you the farthest training spot again. You didn’t have a particularly short fuse, but damn were you impatient to go and take a shower and get a snack. You were both covered in sweat, and your gym uniform was sticky. This was not a hot moment for you.

Denki somehow slipped his hand out of your grasp and bent down to grab something off the ground. You turned to him tiredly, wondering if he was gonna pick up a bug, debating which was worse: him shoving it in your face or him trying to eat it.

“Hey,” you sighed, tapping his shoulder, “can we keep going I really wanna-”

You were cut off by a small flower being shoved in your face. It was a little yellow flower, one that came from a weed that had sprung up in a crack in the sidewalk. He dropped it in your hands and bounced off, the idea of a snack finally permeating his thick skull and entering his brain.

“Alright”, you thought. “That’s it.”

You caught up to the bouncing fool, and when he paused to giggle “wheyyy”, you pressed a kiss to his cheek. All you could taste was his sweat, and you think you might have smashed your nose in a bit too hard. But that giggle of his erased the worries from your mind, and the two of you continued on.

That night, after a nice shower and plenty of food, you were working on homework. You had procrastinated on an assignment rather skillfully, and now you had to really pound this one out or you’d be screwed.

But your brain was a little busy at the moment. He was brain dead, so he surely wouldn’t remember the lil cheek smooch right? Right? God, you hoped so. How could you play that one off as just joking around? ‘Haha yeah you don't kiss your homies? Huh weird haha sorry bout that man’. That is not convincing in the least!

No matter how many times you looked at your mathematics book, your mind replayed his cute little giggle. The yellow flower was sitting on your desk.

You prayed that this wouldn’t hurt your friendship.

Your phone buzzed, waking you from your daydreams. Denki had texted you.

“Ayo you busy? I dont wanna do english”

You hadn’t seen him since you got back to the locker rooms, as you kept missing each other, and the fact that he didn’t seem to text any different assured you that he had no idea what happened.

“No come on over. I dont wanna do maths”

A few minutes later you heard him at your door. “Hello?” he called out in the highest possible falsetto.

“Hello,” you said in your most intimidating and deep voice.

He opened the door, peeking his head through with a weird smile on his face. You mimicked him, flashing him your worst smile. He closed the door behind him and flopped onto your bed.

“I think Mic Sensei wants me dead. I can’t memorize vocab to save my life and he gave us homophones. The quiz is in two days and I have decided to quit hero school and become a professional gamer.”

“With your aim? You’re better off staying in school, my guy.”

He wiped fake tears from his face, and suddenly noticed the flower of honor on your desk. A slight rush of heat went to the tips of his ears, thankfully hidden from your view. But you still noticed his pause.

He turned to face you, his look falling from your face to your hands. “So,” he said, a new hesitancy in his words, “are we going to talk about the elephant in the room?”

You looked at the elephant shaped eraser in your hand. “You got something to say about my eraser, you snob? This is a wonderful eraser and it doesn’t have those weird smudgy things like your nasty one does.”

Denki snorted. “No, I’m sure your eraser is amazing. I meant… you know, what happened earlier? After training?”

Your heart stopped. “Oh. Right. That.”

You looked away from him and nervously scratched at the back of your neck. You had almost convinced yourself that you were okay. But you had been a fool.

“Did you,” Denki quietly spoke up, “mean something by it?”

You avoided his gaze. “Would you be upset if I did?”

A slight smile graced his features. “No, of course not. I just want to know if you… ya know, felt the same way?”

Cue the buffering symbol on your forehead. “The same way,” you repeat to yourself, unwittingly aloud.

“Yeah. Do you, like, like me, or something?”

You turned to face him, your scratching hand falling to your lap. “Yeah. Yes, I do like you. In a more than friend way.”

A large, contagious grin split across his face. Your own mouth followed suit, beaming at the boy sitting with you. A giggle echoed through the room, gracing your ears.

“You really do like me? You’re such a nerd!” He fell back on your bed, poking your leg. Then he sat up again. “Why didn’t you tell me? I sat here thinking it was just me.”

“Why didn’t I tell you? Why didn’t you tell me?” you accused, poking his chest in revenge.

You two continued poking each other, accusing the other of being an idiot. Finally, Denki pulled your hands into his lap, and he leaned in towards you.

“Can we… kiss for real, now? Is that okay with you?”

You nodded, but neither of you moved. Then both of you cracked up realizing that neither of you knew what you were doing.

“Okay,” you said, “I am going to hold still, and you…”

“Mm.”

He leaned in slowly, and you closed your eyes. He softly pressed his slightly puckered lips against yours, and held them there for a few seconds before pulling away a few inches. You leaned forward again to meet his lips, and pressed a series of soft butterfly kisses to his lips. You both pulled away, trying to catch your breaths.

Your eyes opened again, and you could see that his face was bright red.

He wrenched his hands from yours and slapped them over his face. Another giggle left his lips, and you reached out to pull his hands away.

“Ai!”

A little zap shot through your hand when you touched him. He looked at you in worry.

“Oh shit, are you okay? I didn’t mean to zap you! Did it hurt? I-”

“Bro, shut up, it was just a little zap. I’m fine. It wasn’t like the damn playground slides that could kill someone.”

He calmed down and rubbed your hands apologetically.

“Wait,” he said slowly, narrowing his eyes. “Are you still gonna call me bro? We kinda just kissed.”

“I don’t know. Can we kiss more?”

He crawled closer to you, moving the maths book out of the way. He froze a little, then placed his hand tentatively on your shoulders. You leaned into him and met his lips with yours.

You two spent almost half an hour kissing, soft little pecks, slowly gaining confidence in what you were doing. Slowly getting used to the feeling of the other. Slowly learning what the other liked.

From then on, any time you two were alone or far from the group, soft kisses were exchanged. His arm was looped through yours any time you walked together, and his ears were almost permanently tinted red when you were near.

Posted 2020 December 1