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liillyliilly · 5 months ago

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No Free-Solo

kenji sato x reader words; 10021 synopsis; from high school on, kenji couldn't do it alone, especially not when she was there for him.

“You’re missing me with that busy shit. You’re missing me with your whole ‘I can’t come over tonight’ act.” Kenji sat in what she liked to refer to as his dungeon, his lair, his Ultraman den. His too large for life couch made of black leather was cold and the emptiness was expansive in his mansion. He wanted her near, he wanted her to come back.

“I really can’t come over, I’m helping out Ami with Chiho tonight.” She tried to let him down gently, but he huffed through the phone.

She wasn’t a nanny per se, but she did do a fair amount of long-term babysitting for lots of people, mostly for Ami, occasionally for other busy mothers. She had a certain touch to the whole watching and raising kids thing, entertaining the child while also educating them.

Chiho was snoring in her bed. Ami was out with her fellow reporter boyfriend. And she, well she was watching movies in the family room of Ami’s house. Drawings that Chiho had done were covering the walls, plenty of Ultraman pictures to Kenji’s amusement.

She knew the Sato family through a long-winded connection by friendship shared between mothers. Kenji’s mom was best friends with her mom. In terms of maturity though, she was light years ahead of Kenji even when they were in high school. Back in America, when life was typical (meaning lacking in Kaiju and Ultraman responsibility) and the LA Dodgers still reigned supreme in Kenji’s head. They had met for the first time right before her junior year and his senior year.

She would be the youngest junior at the school and he would be one of the oldest seniors at their Los Angeles high school.

Her mom had insisted they visit her good friend the summer before her junior year started, and that she would need to help the son out in adapting to American High school since they had just moved from Japan.

She was worried due to a potential language barrier, but her mom assured her that he would be fluent in English. But how would her mom know that? Her anxiety was off the charts. She spent hours studying basic Japanese, which she found was probably going to kill her, why a language needs more than one writing system was beyond her.

“Ah! It’s so good to see you, Emiko!” Her mom went in for a big hug, and the petite Japanese woman returned the hug with as much enthusiasm as had been given. Her mom muttered about the separation between Emiko and Hayao, and Emiko gave a strained smile, leading them into the house.

Kenji was lounging on the couch, which she soon learned that he loved to do, a tendency to sprawl due to his height and lankiness. He was switching TV channels, until he landed on a baseball game and committed to watching that.

Her mom ushered her over to him, telling her to make conversation and get to know him. How she expected her to do that despite not knowing him at all was a wonder. She didn’t suspect that they had anything in common, and with the zeal he was watching the baseball game, she also suspected that he wasn’t going to be a huge fan of her preference for movies and shows over sports.

So she mustered up a greeting in Japanese from a textbook she had picked up. She had missed the way his eyes glinted with amusement, it was at that moment he decided to play just a small inconsequential game. A game where he pretended he didn’t know any English.

He responded in Japanese, and she realized she really knew nothing at all about Japanese. He sat up and patted the seat next to him. The moms left the main living space in favor of drinking some tea upstairs on a balcony, leaving her alone and incapable of communicating.

Pointing to herself, she said her name with a forced smile. He said ‘Kenji’ while pointing to himself and saying a variety of other words that she had no idea meant anything at all. At least Japanese sounded pretty, so she started thinking about the linguistic history and design of the syllables. He waved a hand in front of her face and she snapped out of her mini history lesson to herself.

Pushing his joke a little further, he used his head to point to a door near the stairs. She raised an eyebrow. He spoke for a few more moments, and she could only stiffly smile and nod in return. When he grabbed her hand and went to the door she thought she was going to die.

Inside the door was his room, and she really thought that this was the end of her sanity, her childhood, her innocence. She had fandangled herself into an intimate relationship with someone who didn’t even speak English and her heart was going to burst at the seams. Trying to recall all the words she had memorized, she was mad that she never learned the words for; no, stop, or I’ll kill you.

It was when she began to slink towards the door and hold her arms across her body in a cross shape that he realized maybe he should drop the joke. Her ears seemed like they were burning and her breathing had increased to a mile a minute in pace.

“Relax, I just wanted to show you my baseball cards.” He held up a binder and opened it to reveal a collection of player cards double sleeved and tucked neatly into a sheet protector.

“I thought you didn’t speak any English!” She frowned and put a hand to her heart. He laughed and she realized she had fallen for a trick.

“My bad.” He holds his hands together and puts them up near his head with a slight bow to apologize. Kenji pushes his bangs back and licks his top row of teeth, “Do you know if our school has a baseball team?” He asks.

She nods. “We’re in the top bracket for playing, it’s super hard to get onto the team though, my friend tried-”

He raised a hand to get her to stop speaking, then he informed her of his inherent athletic prowess, “Believe me, I’ll get onto the team.”

And he had. He’d even qualified to play on the varsity team.

A few months into the school year, while she was eating in the library with some friends, Kenji came bustling into the open space with his pack of baseball players. They always tagged along behind him, treating him like some sort of fancy foreign exchange kid, which she realized was exactly the situation and so her mental analogy didn’t end up working out and she clicked her teeth.

But the majority of white boys at the school did tend to lean a little too hard into the racial stereotypes and unfunny jokes. All Kenji could do sometimes was purse his lips and keep eating his natto. They thought because they had an Asian friend it was an excuse for their behavior, why Kenji never stood up to them and told them off was a huge confounding plight in her eyes. Kenji himself didn’t quite understand it either. Not even when they shortened his name into just Ken for ease and convenience.

Before she could tidy up her comparison and dissection of Kenji Sato, he was leaning on her desk, eating her carrots and searching for her eyes to meet him. He said something in Japanese, and she tried to remember how the words sounded so she could look up what he had said.

“I need your help.” He stole a bite of her sandwich, then drank some of her water. Before he even took it without asking, she offered her pastry to him and he ate the whole thing in one bite and mumbled a ‘thanks’ with his mouth full. He finished chewing and swallowing.

“I need you to pretend to date me so I can get these guys off my back.” He stuck his thumb in the direction of his teammates.

“Absolutely not. No way in hell, Kenji.” She started to pack up her bag, but he just put his hand on her bag and pressed it hard against the desk. With his other hand he gently grabbed her by the chin, and tilted her face up to his. Inches away. Her eyes went wide.

“Pretty please?” He licked his lips and she tried to bring her own face back to avoid his tongue getting to her lips.

She thought about what her mom said, telling her to help out Kenji if he needed it. This couldn't apply though, right?

“I’m going to need so many favors.” She groaned, managing to get her bag out from under his hands.

He pressed a quick kiss to her lips, ruffling her hair and heading out with his friends who began to goad him for keeping her a secret for so long. He had just taken her first kiss and it didn’t seem like it bothered him at all. She was too busy pressing her hand to her lips to even notice the way his ears were a scorching hot red.

When she went to research what he had said to her, she thought she must have misheard him because the proposed English translation was something along the lines of, ‘please let this work out in my favor’.

Continuously, she called in favors, and he was there to meet them. Getting books off the top shelves in the library. Sharpening pencils when they were studying. Even helping her learn just a little more of his language.

“No, no you gotta give each syllable its own beat. Copy me.” Kenji went over the blended ‘r’ and ‘l’ sound that felt clunky in her mouth.

She did replicate what he was saying, at least to her own belief that that was her best ability. He laughed a little and she frowned.

“Okay, move your tongue a little, right behind your front teeth, but also not touching your teeth, just let your tongue kinda do the sound in the middle.” Kenji opened his mouth a little so she could observe. She tried again but it sounded even worse than the first attempt.

“I wish I could just move your tongue for you so you could get the motion right.” She looked quickly side to side, biting her bottom lip. Kenji backtracked immediately, “That didn’t come out quite right, I think that’s enough Japanese for one day.” She nodded rapidly and closed the journal she was using to take notes.

He said that they could go get food, she agreed and they got burgers and milkshakes at a run down family owned diner. He paid, despite her insisting she could pay for her own food. Saying that that was apart of the whole fake dating thing.

“You know, you do a lot of things under the guise of our not dating, dating thing.” She sipped her milkshake. Kenji took a bite of his burger, musing about what he would say.

“Well, we’re friends as well right?”

“Yeah, we’ve been hanging out since you basically arrived here. We’re friends, but honestly, we behave more like best friends.” She finished off her shake and cleaned up her area.

That was something he liked about her, her consideration for cleanliness and organization. But also her appreciation for others around her, cleaning up her stuff so that the likely overworked waitress didn’t have to. A person who thinks about other people. Now that was his type he decided.

“I’m happy with being best friends.”

In all fairness, he was probably the best fake boyfriend that a girl could’ve asked for. They had settled on knowing their relationship was best friends, but for others they had the additional label of dating. Sometimes though, he’d do something like grab her hand or wrap an arm around her. When those situations presented themselves, she always looked for possible viewers, his teammates. But based on her data, he only did things like that around 20% of the time when his teammates were actually watching. Meaning that the other 80% of the time he did the physical acts of affection, no one was around to watch.

While his English was practically perfect, he had the hardest time in social studies and history, so he got her help with his U.S. government class. He claimed that because he hadn’t lived here at all, and because he had Japanese citizenship that this class was completely useless for him. His defeatist attitude towards history made her roll her eyes at him.

One day, when she was intending to come over to help him, Emiko crossed her arms and leaned against the doorframe as he cleaned up his room. He threw his baseball socks and jersey into the dirty clothes hamper.

“She’s coming over then?”

He mumbled an affirmative answer.

Emiko got giddy, saying she’d make a good rich curry tonight for dinner and that he’d need to tell her to stay for dinner. He gave a wave and kept picking up his room.

When the doorbell rang, he ran to the door. Emiko chastened him and told him to calm down. He let her in, and she greeted his mom, giving Emiko the box of fruit her own mom told her to drop off. He complained in Japanese that she always went straight to his mom instead of greeting him first. Emiko in turn smiled at her while scolding her son again in Japanese.

Watching the conversation unfold, she shrugged, Japanese was just not her strong suit.

“How hard is it to understand a constitutional federal republic?” She looked over his essay answer to a prompt she had given him to practice for his upcoming test. He was sitting cross-legged on his bed, chewing the end of a pen. She was leaning against his bed frame, reading papers and marking up his essay with her red pen. Each time she made another red mark, he grumbled. Of all the people she had tutored though, his handwriting was the best.

“Correct these things first, and then I can edit again with my orange pen.” She held up said pen while handing the paper back to him. He just mimicked what she had said, holding his own pen the same way she had held up hers, even going so far as to bring his shoulders upwards to make him appear smaller.

In response to the insulting imitation she grabbed her notebook and hit him repeatedly on the knee. He let out a pained ouch, and she felt bad, so she put the notebook away and just patted his knee instead.

“If you really loved me you’d just write out the whole essay and then I could just memorize it and cross apply the right parts for the actual prompt Mr. Henry gives in class next week.” Kenji adjusted his body position, and her hand wasn’t on his knee anymore but dead center of his thigh instead. He smirks, and she immediately retracts her hand.

“Good thing I don’t love you then.” Kenji presses his hand to his heart and sighs, falling back into his pillow. “Just do the essay Jiji.”

He lifted his head and repeated what she had said, “Jiji?”

“Kenji.” She says his name and enunciates the two syllables cleanly.

“I like Jiji, I think it suits me. It’s a cute nickname.”

He finished rewriting the essay while she poked around his room. Photos of him with his mom and dad, which she already knew not to ask about because last time she did he went total silence for two weeks. But then he felt guilty about ghosting and took her out to get a sweet treat everyday after school for one week straight. Trophies from his old school back in Japan for his baseball achievements. Multiple MVP awards from the games he had played here.

The other photos that were in his room were mostly of him and his teammates. He just didn’t look too happy in those ones, so she tried to skim them, but failed. His teammates did their best to make him seem like he was a part of the group, but it just didn’t click all the way. Kenji always looked too serious in the photos, or it seemed like he was actually looking at the baseball diamond instead of the person taking the photo.

There was an adorable little figure, made either of acrylic or vinyl, of a little superhero with a red and silver supersuit and a blue circle on the chest. She picked it up and inspected it. What she assumed was Kenji’s name was on the foot of the toy. She bent the arms of the toy and moved it around like it was flying midair.

Kenji had completely paused writing his essay in favor of watching her dart around his room. He clenched his jaw for a second when she picked up the Ultraman toy, then eased his body language when she started making the toy fly around. If only that’s what Ultraman really was, just a toy. Just a toy and not an impending responsibility to protect and serve the people of Japan from Kaiju monsters. He wondered if she’d ever want to live somewhere besides Los Angeles. Tokyo for example.

“Kenji! Curry! Get the applesauce from the cabinet please!” Emiko called out.

She set the toy down and turned around, but Kenji was already standing right behind her. He had only meant to watch her movements a little more closely, but now this was entirely too close. He played it off like he was adjusting the Ultraman doll, smiled and then opened his door for her to exit and head downstairs.

When he heard the steps trailing down, he silently screamed and raised his hands to the sides of his head. Then he dragged a hand down his face and carded fingers through his hair. He envied the self he saw in the photos, cool and nonchalant.

“So, are there any boys you think are cute at school?” Emiko ate another bite of katsu that was drenched in curry sauce.

She swallowed thickly for a second, “I- uh, no. There’s not many good options for dating material at a hyper-athletic school.” She laughed to cut the edge off the conversation.

Emiko drank some water, but then prodded a little more. Kenji wished the earth would open and swallow him up.

“Not even at a school full of athletes? I would’ve sworn there were some good options for you on Kenji’s baseball team. What was his name? Eric? Eli?”

“Ohh, Ezra Johnson?” She supplied, eating some applesauce and then tapping her mouth with a napkin.

Kenji looked to her, then to his mom, then back at her. He was trying to stuff his face with his food so he could exit the conversation and then drag her and himself back to his room. She seemed insistent on blocking out the whole fake dating thing from his mom’s view and perception.

“Yes! He’s a really nice kid! He actually greeted me when I went to the first game. It was so sweet of him. His mom and I got to know each other a little bit. I can send you his details if you want?” Emiko grazed the back of her phone.

“No!” Kenji burst. His mom and his fake girlfriend both looked at him. “Uh, Ezra is talking to this girl named, um, Claire. Yeah, Claire.” He held his plate up and his mom nodded.

Rinsing his plate off he put it into the dishwasher, then from behind his mom’s back he tried mouthing to her so they could go back upstairs but she was too busy still talking to his mom to notice anything.

When she finally finished eating, she said she needed to go back home.

“What about my essay though?” Kenji rested his forearms on the kitchen counter while she was busy doing the dishes despite having to gently fight with Emiko about letting her even do the dishes in the first place.

“I gave you enough content to work with, just do the corrections and you’ll be good to go.” She bumped the dishwasher with her hip to close it, and he wondered what her bumping into him would feel like. And then he groveled a little that he wanted to be a dishwasher for even a split second. “I need to do my own homework now, tell your mom thank you again for me, okay?”

She rubbed his arm to comfort him slightly, but he took his chance to reach to her hip, tugging her lightly into him.

“What are you doing?” She hissed at him, trying to keep her voice down in case Emiko was still lurking around.

“Saying thanks for the help, goodbye, and I’ll see you tomorrow.” He grabbed the hand that she had on his arm and held her hand for a second, then brought it up to his mouth to press a light kiss to her knuckles.

She smiled, then pushed his shoulder.

When she had left the house, he flung himself onto the couch and giggled a little. Kicking his feet that were dangling over the arm of the couch. His mom peeked downstairs to see Kenji wriggling around and muttering. She just laughed a little. Maybe her instigation had worked out in the end.

The next week, she was hounded by baseball players after school.

She kept holding up a hand to cover her face, but they would not relent. Asking questions about her and Kenji. What Kenji was like outside of school, outside of baseball. If Kenji ever stopped being serious and aloof for even a minute. At this point they were just crowding her and not giving her the space to breathe.

She kept giving short curt answers, tugging her backpack straps closer and closer to her. At one point, one of them stepped on her foot and she winced a little.

It was like some kind of sonar sensor, Kenji could tell something was wrong. When he turned the corner, all he could see was his girl getting cornered by a bunch of idiots who didn’t even have his best interest at heart. The only reason why he asked her to fake date him was so that he could get out of dates with the girls his teammates had thought would suit him. The secondary reason was so she could avoid his teammates entirely. But clearly, the second reason did not go as planned because his teammates were a bunch of no-brainers who didn’t even really care about baseball.

“Hey, let’s go, I’ll drive you home today.” Kenji stuck his hand in between two of his teammates, and she grabbed it, so he was able to pull her out from the crowd they had made around her.

He strung two fingers around her jean belt loop and guided her to his car. When they finally sat down, and Kenji had started the engine, she let out a shaky breath. He put his hand behind her seat, and then moved his hand so he could lightly touch the back of her neck at her nape.

“Are you okay? I had no idea they would do something like that, I mean, it’s just completely ridiculous. I don’t even talk to them that much, if at all. And they treat me like some kind of foreigner, which I may be yeah, but really come on. That’s just herd mentality to the max. Ridiculous behavior, so childish.” Kenji kept talking while driving, she thought that maybe he needed a chance to really unload everything and mitigate the tension that had built up around him.

When they got to her house, he apologized again. And again.

“Don’t let it eat you alive, it’s all good, no harm no foul, if it makes you feel better, they totally reeked of body odor.” She chimed in after he finished his long wind of apologies. “And, um, what time is your game on Wednesday? My mom asked, she wants to hang out with your mom.”

“And here I thought you just wanted to see me completely kill the opposing team.” Kenji tried to lean out of the car just a little more, but his seatbelt kept him from getting his head out of the passenger side window. “I’ll text you. Get to your house safe ok?”

To her house from the car was approximately seven steps. The smile she gave him wrinkled her eyes and creased her nose just perfectly. He slid his hands up and down the wheel, smiling to himself as he started home.

The game went perfectly, he stole practically all the bases, and he made two home run hits. And an LA Dodgers scout was there. Once he got the documents and the scout shaked his hand, he was over the moon excited to play for the best team in the United States.

When he saw her with her mom and his mom, he just couldn’t hold himself back. In a second, he was hugging her and ranting about the scout continuously just repeating the experience over and over. Since his mom knew she would have a hard time prying Kenji off of his best friend, she just had to listen in to what he was saying, and she clapped when she had finally heard it all, celebrating from just far enough away to let them enjoy the moment.

His graduation was boring, she sat with his mom in the stands waiting for him to get his name called out. There were a lot of speeches, and she recognized the valedictorian from various library encounters, but for the most part everyone was a stranger to her. Emiko kept getting a call from an international number, but she didn’t try to ask about it.

Kenji barrelled through the crowd of graduates to get to his people, his mom and his best friend. When he started to talk about what he was going to do over the summer, his baseball camps and training, getting to meet the members of his team. His mom put a gentle hand to his shoulder, and he furrowed his eyebrows at the serious environment his mom had suddenly crafted. She backed away a little, but Kenji grabbed her hand and shook his head, telling her to stay for whatever his mom had to say.

“Kenji, your dad, he’s, your dad wants to talk to you. He’s, he’s on the phone.” Emiko couldn’t help but stutter a little, unnerved with how Kenji would react.

Kenji shook his head no, pulling her closer to him trying to use her as a crutch to prevent an interaction with his father from occurring. She looked between Kenji and his mother for a moment. Emiko with her tightened face and hand gripping the phone tightly said more than what her original request was saying. Emiko wanted Kenji to answer the call. So, she in turn encouraged him to answer it.

“Jiji, just answer the call. It’s your dad.” He felt betrayed.

“I’m not picking up the phone, I’m not talking to dad, and I’m getting a ride with a friend.” He pulls his hand away, despite missing her touch, and leaves his mom and her standing and stunned from his reaction.

Emiko pulled her into a side hug. “Thanks for backing me, you’re much more mature than I think people give you credit for. I have udon at home, call your mom and let’s have a girls night. I don’t think he’ll be home for a while. I’ll let him blow off steam today, but don’t think I’m soft on him, he’ll have some hell to pay when I catch him tomorrow.”

Patting the back of her head, Emiko went to the small electric van. She stood for a second, thinking about the space Kenji had just occupied. Maybe the family dynamic in the Sato household was more complex than she had anticipated, Emiko seemed to still love her husband despite them being separated. Kenji seemed adverse to and angry with his father, but Emiko didn’t carry any slight of resentment.

Girls night was a blast, including face masks and bad romance movies. Kenji got back around midnight, just as her mom and her were leaving his house. When she left, he was the one who closed the door after her. He gave a short pained smile and a wave. In her mind, it was a win because at least he wasn’t upset with her for taking Emiko’s side.

Summer was hot and burned the apples of her cheeks, leaving both sunburns and memories in it’s fragmented state. Kenji was busy conditioning for baseball practically everyday. Somedays he’d invite her out just to watch him play, so she could sip some icy lemonade and sit in the shade instead of being cooped in her house doing whatever it is that homebodies do.

It would be deceiving to say that she didn’t enjoy just watching him play. The way his baseball jersey would bunch at his elbows and shoulders when he hit the ball. Or the way he would run the bases each time he missed a throw from the ball machine. He still needed to get a haircut, so his bangs would completely cover most of his face, until he ran a hand through his sweaty hair and his almost snake-like eyes would study her from afar.

The best part was when he told her to move her legs a little, so he could sit on the row of bleachers in front of her. Eventually positioning himself to settle in between her legs, resting his arms on her thighs and his head was leaning on her torso. Although his sweat would lightly mark up her shirts when his hair dripped from his practice rounds, she still loved to be there for him in this capacity.

Either he was here with her or he would be at the diamond alone and angry. When he came alone, he would throw his bat when he made a mistake instead of just brushing it off and doing a lap. Somehow, doing baseball training alone while waiting for official LA Dodgers’ orders made him all pent up and out of control. So when she came to observe, it felt like he had more things in his control, his ability to manage.

“How are you gonna survive without me next year?” Kenji rolled his shoulders before getting his water bottle and guzzling down the IV infused liquid.

“Well, as far as everyone knows, we’re still dating, so I’ll have another year of free solo-ing the romance world at a hormone ridden cesspool.” She slid her backpack on, ready to start the trek home.

Kenji slung his duffel bag over his shoulder, then quickly switched which shoulder his bag was on once he saw which side she let her bag rest on, so that their bags wouldn’t bump into each other as he walked her home.

“You’re not gonna tell people we ended it?” Kenji sucked in some air through his teeth, readjusting the bag’s weight placement a little.

“Nah, it’s just easier that way. At graduation though if anyone asks how we’re doing I’ll say you found a supermodel that preys on greenie Pro-Baseball players.”

He nods, accepting the route she was going in order to terminalize their fake relationship.

“I was a good boyfriend though, right?” Maybe he asked so that he could feel out the possibility of a real one, or seeing what he could do better when he finally worked up enough courage to ask her out for real and for forever. For now though, he knew that friendship would satiate most of his yearning for her time and attention.

“Comparatively, to what I heard other girls went through, you were practically a saint. I mean, you never did press me into a couch so we could make out. Ruby held that over my head for the whole year once her girlfriend did that to her.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad actually,” Kenji stroked his chin, “One last boyfriend duty for me to do before I get too busy, ya know?”

“Kiss me without permission and you're a dead baseball boy.” He held up his hands defensively.

“That was one time.”

“In the middle of the library, in front of a good majority of my friends, right after I had been begged to be a fake girlfriend.”

Kenji raised his eyebrows, and tilted his head, “I do not recall begging.”

“You definitely begged,” She clasped her hands together and turned towards him, pausing their pace on the sidewalk for her to parody him, “Pretty please.”

She fluttered her eyelashes and pouted dramatically.

He rolled his eyes and tugged her hands so she would keep walking.

The postseason began around October for Kenji, and he made his official debut into the stage of professional baseball. Around the fifth game he played, he snapped. And that’s why he was sitting on her bathroom counter holding a bag of peas to the side of his face, while she dug through the closet just outside the bathroom looking for a first aid kit.

The catcher had just stepped out of line according to Kenji, messing up his at bat routine with his comments about his age, his inexperience, his lack of genuine talent. The first punch was Kenji’s, the second punch was the catcher’s and it rocked Kenji immediately.

Tasting the metallic blood in his mouth, he was just glad all his teeth were okay. He did feel bad for going to her instead of going home. But he knew that his mom would’ve killed him for hitting another player. The only reason why his mom wasn’t at this specific game was because she had some research files from years ago that his father needed, so she was spending the time trying to transfer data from floppy disks to USB drives.

She should’ve been asleep, or studying for her upcoming exams. He felt like an inconvenience and like a child who was being coddled, but he did feel like he was being fawned over by her which he could live with. Even the way she had reacted to him texting her and asking if she could help patch him up a little. She had sent nearly thirty messages, mostly angry, but also laced with worry.

“This might sting a little.” She reached up and pressed a cloth to his lip. He lurched away from the disinfectant, and she almost fell over due to having to reach up to get to his face.

“Hold on, give me a second.” Kenji got off the counter regardless of her complaints, she stopped complaining and was silenced once he swapped their positions, her sitting on the counter and him in front of her with his hands on either side of her hips, placed on the edge of the counter. “Better.”

She hummed a little, pressing the cloth to his face again, he tried to not lurch away this time. She put some triple antibiotic ointment on his lip and temple where there were some cuts. Putting some small star shaped bandages on his face where the cuts were biggest.

“All done!” She put her hands on his shoulders and gave a big smile.

Maybe he leaned in, maybe he didn’t. But their lips were definitely touching. When she pushed him away he realized he must have made a fatal error. So he decided to play it off.

“Sorry, a little faint from the fight earlier, not in my right mind.”

“Yeah, you, uh, you were just trying to, yeah.” She chewed the inside of her mouth.

Kenji helped her off the counter, and walked to her front door, ready to head out.

Holding onto the door, she stuck her head out and commented to him before he got too far away from hearing distance, “No more fights okay?”

He threw her a thumbs up before leaving her house. When he was safely back in his car, he did something that was all too familiar when he slipped up around her, he silently screamed and gripped his hair.

Years went by.

They stayed close, and he made sure of that. Baseball was going great, but no championships under his belt. She had graduated college, working at an office as an assistant. She moved out of her family home and got a shared apartment with some college friends who also worked in the main part of Los Angeles

Then, his dad hurt his leg, and everything went to hell. Hayao had called, telling Kenji it was finally time to take the name of Ultraman. He now needed to bear the gauntlet, the responsibility of keeping his home country safe. His mom just agreed, putting her hands on Kenji’s knee. Telling Kenji it was finally time for him to go home and be who he was supposed to be. And he was supposed to be Ultraman?

Baseball was his thing, he knew baseball and he was good at it too. Baseball felt like home, LA felt like his home, she felt like his home.

On top of all that, within a week of his father’s request and his mother’s urging, his mother had an accident. He had no idea what happened. Just that one day, Emiko was there and then she wasn’t.

He was depressed, and so he drank. His house was a mess. Dirty dishes piled up in the sink, he was wearing the same clothes from four days ago. His toothbrush had become unfamiliar. He didn’t bother turning on the lights, staying in the dark and sulking.

When her mom found out about Emiko’s disappearance and presumed death, she called her daughter and told her to check in on Kenji. He had been distant lately, and she knew that the distance was a result of his grief. Her stomach twisted into knots, and she realized she hadn’t reached out to him in a few weeks.

His front door was locked, she had a basket of fruit and a stack of tupperwares filled with lunches and dinners for an entire week. She tried to think about what food were both comforting and had a lot of protein, so she made a variety of pasta dishes with extra meat.

“Kenji?” She knocked repeatedly, checking her phone only to see that her messages had been left on read. She called out for him again, knocking harder. “I know you’re in there Jiji.”

Opening the door made her grasp the gravity of the situation he was in. His hair was covering his face, he seemed to have recoiled into himself, wearing sweatpants and a sweatshirt instead of his typical jeans and jersey thrown over a solid color tee. He smelled too, not of his usual mintiness and clean linen, but of all and any sort of alcohol. With eye bags darker than dirt, and hollow looking features, he just left the door open as he lurked back into his blacked out house.

Setting her gifts on his kitchen counter, she turned on the lights, and got to work. First the dishes, and then she picked up all the clothing and started a load of laundry. She made him a plate of the food she had brought, and a big glass of water and some Advil for the inevitable hangover he would have.

Lying on the couch, Kenji played with the hem of his sweatshirt. He tried to take another sip straight from a bottle of red wine when she stole it out of his hands. Whining, he told her to give it back and turn the lights off. She clicked her tongue.

“Eat this,” she handed him the plate, “Drink this,” she sat the water and pill on the coffee table. She tapped her foot, her arms folded in front of her chest. He groaned but did as told.

Satisfied with his actions, she dragged him upstairs and told him to take a shower. Hearing the water running, she looked around his room and cleaned it up. His passport, along with a one way ticket to Tokyo for one month out, was on the floor, covered by blankets that were strewn around. Opened letters were lying on the floor as well, pictures and clippings of ‘Kaiju’ attacks in Japan. Maybe she needed to brush up on her international news instead of staying in her little bubble.

Coming out of the shower with baggy clothes on, he dried his hair with a small towel.

“What are you doing?” He saw her holding the letters his dad had sent. He reached out for them, but she held them back and to her chest.

“What are Kaiju?”

Soon, he was sitting on his bed with her as well. He had the Ultraman doll in his left hand and a stuffed animal that she had given him some years ago in his right hand.

“Basically, I’m this, by blood,” He shook the Ultraman doll, “And I’m supposed to fight these back home. Since my father can’t anymore.” Laughing slightly, he slammed Ultraman into the stuffie repeatedly.

Her eyes were wide. She may not have understood everything about what he was, or what he was supposed to be doing, but she knew it was important to him to some degree. It was irrelevant that his dad needed him, the only thing he cared about was that his mom had asked him to take the step to become something he wasn’t sure of.

But the idea that her best friend was going to be a superhero? That he could change into some kind of robotic monster slayer? She had to disconnect a little from reality just to process the whole thing.

Suddenly, he thought of something that could possibly get him out of his funk. Something that could make his time in Tokyo, living an entirely new life bearable.

“There’s some extra rooms at the place I’ll be living in. I know that you want to go to some kind of graduate school. There are really good graduate schools in Tokyo.” He scratched the back of his head, if she said yes, then he would be truly mortified that she had seen him like this but he would also get to have neverending time with her on a day to day basis if she agreed.

“I remember none of the Japanese you taught me, I’d need to get a visa,” She started listing off all the things that would keep her from leaving, “But, uh, I think I’ll go with you. Yes.”

“I can handle the visa thing, you’re just going to need to sign some papers and have an interview with some people, and you’ll need to wear a ring on your ring finger. As for the Japanese, I’m a better teacher now than when I was 18.”

Getting married was not on her bucket list, but at least she could get better tuition at her graduate school for technically being a form of naturalized Japanese national. Her mom was glad to see her living away from LA, and she was grateful for Kenji going with her daughter. Her mom just didn’t know about the marriage for a green card/visa situation, and honestly, she didn’t plan on telling her mom.

The whole flight to Tokyo she was practicing her Japanese with Kenji. For the first time in a long time, he was actually happy. Not ready for the whole Ultraman thing, but ready at least to leave home and be out of LA. Los Angeles reminded him of his mother, every street sign, every restaurant, the greenery and flowers, it all came back to his mom.

What he had explained to her as the Ultrabase wasn’t just some place that he was staying at, it was a literal industrial modern masterpiece of a mansion. The sleek design ebbed and flowed into the molding of the island it resided on. Ceilings higher than a museum’s, she traced her finger along every surface trying to soak in the elitism of it all. He reclined himself on the ginormous couch, watching her observe the surroundings.

To him, she was the best feature of the homebase. Where most things were cold and stricken with a detrimental weight of his responsibility, she was like a beam of no expectations. She gave him the space to just exist without pressure. That and she was always fighting with his robot assistant MINA which also made each time returning back from fighting a little easier to endure.

“Listen MINA, I just think that you’d be more effective if you were pink, also can you pass me my pencil case.” She was sitting at the kitchen table, snacking on candy and working on an assignment from one of her professors on her Master’s Committee. MINA used an extended robot hand to fly over the pencil case that had been in her backpack.

“If I was pink, it would detract from my integrated design.” MINA floats around her head, observing her completed work thus far. “Your work is completely correct, why are you changing the grammatical structure?”

“For the love of the process MINA, for the love of the process.”

Kenji just ate another bite of his New York Strip, enjoying the free entertainment. When he finished his meal, he asked if she wanted to go out for an adventure.

Matching helmets, black and gold design with her wearing one of his extra leather jackets just in case. For safety he justified. The cool Tokyo air felt even colder as they rushed around the streets, lane splitting and cutting in between cars. The headphones had built in bluetooth so they were listening to a shared playlist they had made. Blending rap, RNB, pop, and EDM crafted the right ambiance needed for a late night drive.

In some ways, Tokyo was similar to LA. She reasoned that it might have been the lights to a certain degree, but here, the lights were brighter and bolder. Neon signs and air pollution were the common denominators between the two cities.

He takes a corner just a little too hard, and she instinctively tightens her arms around his waist, tucking her head a little closer to his shoulder.

They end up taking a break for a minute, pulling off the side of the road to grab some vending machine drinks. Tea for her, coffee for him.

That’s when his watch begins to blare red. She fidgets with the ring on her hand, she didn’t need to wear it around he told her, but the cool diamond gem had grown on her. Just as a precaution if the case workers came around to check on their ‘marriage’, that was the explanation she gave to him for why she always had her ring on. They never talked about why he always kept his on too, despite interviews asking and continuously pestering him about the ring. The baseball world had just concluded it was either a secret wife or for the style since he never gave an answer.

“I think you have to go do your whole superman thing.” She pointed at his watch that he was trying to ignore.

Kenji groaned a little, calling for a ride so she could get back to his place. MINA had already gotten to them by the time the watch had started to blare.

“Ken, it is time to mitigate the primary conflict in Shinjuku.” MINA did a bow with their robot body. She tried to throw a pebble at MINA to test for reaction time, that being said MINA caught the rock. She shrugged.

Back at the dungeon, also known as the Ultrabase much to her distaste for a name like that, she was surprised to see an elderly man with a crutch sitting on the couch in the central living room.

He was watching a big hologram screen, which now clearly looked like Kenji (in Ultraman form) fighting with a pink monster dragon thing. When he got a particularly nasty body slam she sucked in some air through her teeth.

“Ahh, hello strange girl in the Ultraman base.” He circled her for a moment, his crutch slowing down his assessment of her.

“Ahh, hi strange grandpa in the Ultraman base.” She waved, and the older gentleman introduced himself as Professor Sato.

“Kenji’s dad?” She checked.

“Yes, I’m his father.” She nods, getting a glass of water.

When Kenji gets back to the base, that’s when things get a little crazy. What was once a slimy egg turned into a cute komodo dragon mutant baby. She was all over the baby in an instant, trying to get to know it better.

“She’s adorable. I love her.” She was tapping the glass of the containment cylinder, cooing at the infant Kaiju. The baby seemed to respond positively, making little coos back and stomping around a little.

Kenji just folded his arms and took it all in. He was still trying to get rid of his dad, despite his father’s willingness to help out. He just couldn’t balance it all without Hayao’s help, he realized. Especially when Emi needed more assistance, and help avoiding the KDF’s insistent attacks. She loved Emi, despite the Kaiju having the ability to totally crush her, Emi reciprocated quickly to her. Considering the contrast in how long it took for Kenji to demonstrate that his Ultaman form and his regular self were the same through systematic desensitization.

They became a family, even if a family consisted of a pro-baseball player, his fake wife/best friend, an estranged but loving father, a Kaiju baby, and a robot assistant.

A learning curve consisted of a lot more mistakes and complaining, but at the end of it all, Kenji had to commit. He was Ultraman now. He needed to protect Tokyo. At least now he had a support system he could rely on. Slowly, changes occurred with him. Putting others before himself, really truly thinking about life and the value of other human beings. The catalyst was a Kaiju baby named Emi, especially the way that said Kaiju baby loved openly.

The misadventures of raising Emi were wild and laced with KDF fights, but in the end, Kenji and his dad were brought together by defending Kaiju in a unique way. The monsters weren’t intentionally villains, humans had just made them out to be like that. That’s life though, people defining and categorizing things into concepts and schemas that made sense to them.

That’s what his dad was doing when he and Emiko separated. Hayao was trying to find ways to open human eyes to the world and beauty of Kaiju. Living in tandem with them may not have been immediately possible but why shouldn’t it be ever given a chance? Professor Sato, his dad, wasn’t trying to hurt anyone, he was trying his best to make the world a little bit better. Forgiving a father who he once believed left him wasn’t an easy road, but it was a path that needed to be traveled.

Saying goodbye to Emi was rough, yet, the Kaiju Island was close enough to go and visit on occasion. Baseball was great, winning the championship and going into a post-season diffusement.

Yet, Kaiju still came and wreaked havoc, and Kenji still had to fight and protect Japan. Even if that meant coming back to the base bloodied and bruised. She was almost always there, wrapping his arms in white bandages and wiping off blood with towels. Running ice baths and making cold soba noodles.

Which is what she was doing at this moment, rinsing the noodles in ice water and stirring a sweet sauce for Kenji to pour over rather than dunk his noodles into.

He was resting a frozen water bottle on his shoulder, hoping it would numb the pain, the Kaiju just had to try and rip his good arm off didn’t it?

“Hey, can I come in? Got your soba.” She knocked on the bathroom door using her elbow, since both hands were carrying bowls of soba with sauce containers precariously resting on her lower palms.

“Yeah, I’m wearing swim trunks.”

“Good because I’m not ready to see you naked, like, ever.” She chuckled, but pulled a chair next to the ceramic tub, breaking her chopsticks and saying a quick itadakimasu. He copied her, immediately drowning his noodles in the sauce she set on the edge of the tub. She rolled her eyes at his action.

He laughed a little, ignoring the pain in his shoulder, “What, it tastes better like this.”

She hummed an affirmative sound, but her eyes glinted with an agree to disagree conclusion.

The noodles had been fully digested, but she was still there, dipping her fingers into the water and making small swirls. The frigid temperature makes her fingers feel detached from her body.

Kenji lowers himself in the tub for a moment, getting his hair wet. When he came back up, she was pushing his bangs away from his face, smiling. Her hand stayed in his hair, brushing the strands away from his face as they dropped droplets down the back of his neck and then into the tub again. The ice cubes bumped into each other, melting slowly but steadily.

He ran his tongue over his teeth, uttering a few words, “Hot tub?”

She nods and heads out of the bathroom to get a swimsuit on.

The pool on the second to bottom floor of the base had an attached hot tub. He turned on the low lights, leaving the space in a warm brown shade of yellow light. The glass wall gave an outlook over the city and the ocean that surrounded the base.

MINA zoomed into the pool area, “Shall I put on some smooth jazz Ken?”

“No. Do not do that.” Kenji waved off MINA with red stinging his ears. MINA states they were just trying to speed up the whole process, and quoted one of her favorite phrases adding an addendum of MINA’s understanding and AI learning, “For the love of the process, especially if it's about love.”

The hot tub was warm, not quite boiling, but warm. She rested her arms on the outside ledge of the tub, looking out through the window. Kenji came to her side and replicated how she was positioned, before remembering that his shoulder hurt and gave out a small sound of displeasure. She giggled a little, rubbing the back of his shoulder where there weren't any distinct injuries.

“You’ve changed a lot since we were in high school.” She closed her eyes and dropped her head so that it was on her crossed arms.

“That’s what happens with time.” He wants to ask why she brought up his self-improvement. But she cuts him off before any words settle in his mouth.

“Yeah, but you’ve made a lot of great changes. You’re actually friends with your teammates now. And you’ve taken on this whole responsibility for an entire country. You aren’t just Kenji Sato, you’re also Ken Sato, and Ultraman, and I like to think you’ve fully embraced your father again, and not to mention our friendship.” She looks up at the ceiling, “You’re like an actual adult now.”

“I’ve been an adult for way longer than you.”

“But not like this, like an actual responsible person. You can juggle everything now.”

She sniffles a little, “Which is why I can understand if you don’t want me to stay once I finish my program you know?”

Kenji grabs a hold of one of her hands, “What the hell? Why would you ever think I’d want to kick you out?”

She shrugs.

He continues, “I hate to say it, but I think you’re stuck with me. You know too much about my dark secrets.” She smirks in response to his teasing tone.

Kenji dives deeper into things he wished he would’ve said earlier.

“I mean, you already have the ring to prove it too.” Her mouth gapes open a little, raising an eyebrow.

It would be amiss to say that this wouldn’t alter everything, but it was time.

“I know that we’ve only ever been friends, but you need to know what I feel.”

“I think I already know.” She cups the side of his face, and he pulls her into him, and makes her face him. She’s sitting on the expanse of his thighs, and he looks up at her from how he’s leaning back onto the wall of the hot tub.

Wrapping arms around his neck, careful to not rest too much of her arm on his shoulder, she brings their noses to brush against each other.

“Mine now? Right? You’re mine now?” When she doesn’t respond he continues, “Pretty please? Mine?”

“I thought you said you never begged?” She grazes his lips with her own and he sighs with a light shudder in his chest.

“I’ll beg for this, for you.”

“Fair enough.”

He tightens his grip and pulls her flush to him. Angling his neck up and tilting his head, he kisses her. She smiles too much for it to be a proper kiss, but he keeps pressing against her mouth. When she stops smiling and starts responding with her own pressure of lips to lips, he has to suppress the hunger to bite her.

His tongue brushes against her bottom lip and she opens her mouth for him, he runs his tongue along the inner lining of her mouth before biting on the tip of her tongue when she tries to take her turn. He chuckles when she pulls back a little, nose crinkled and lips wet.

“C’mere.” He trails kisses down the side of her face, going to her neck and collarbones, glad that her swimsuit was low cut enough for him to graze the top of her chest, where the rise of her curves began. She just presses kisses to the top of his head while her hand tangles into the hair at his nape, twisting the locks into fake curls.

When their fingers were wrinkled from the water in the hot tub, they showered and curled up on his bed, watching a meaningless show.

“So, my thoughts are that we can just skip the dating thing and go straight to marriage since legally we already are.”

“My mom will kill me.”

“Good thing she loves me, just say we eloped.” He wraps his good arm around her and pulls her down to lay on the pillows. She snuggles into the silk blend pillow cases and murmurs a little, tired from a long day. He caresses the side of her face and rests his hand on her hip.

MINA flits around the base, erasing specific footage from the recordings in the pool room, for everyone’s benefit.

Kenji paced back and forth in the base, waiting for her to get back from babysitting Chiho, hoping that Ami’s date would end shockingly early for his benefit.

He’s still on the phone with her, “I don’t want to wait to see you.” He kicks a throw pillow that had fallen on the ground from the couch.

“Have patience, I’ll be back around one AM.”

“This is spousal abuse.”

“It really isn’t”

MINA chimed in and agreed with her, so she exclaimed and said that even a robot knows the truth that Kenji was just a little clingy.

“I think you should stop watching other people’s babies and come take care of your family. And by family, I mean me.”

“I know what you meant.”

He looks to the clock, three more hours of waiting would be excruciating. But at least she’d be back in time for him to wish her an extremely early happy anniversary with the new ring he got.

#ultraman #ultraman: rising #ultraman x reader #kenji sato #kenji sato x reader #ken sato #ultraman rising #friends to lovers #slowburn #hot tubs play a role there somewhere #ken sato x reader #identity reveal #girl dad fr #best friends #best friends to lovers #pining #childhood friends to lovers #mutual pining #lilly's red string of fate

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demonking-propaganda · 2 months ago

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13 spoiler-free reasons why you should read Mairimashita! Iruma-kun

...if you haven't done so already 👀 (With "spoiler-free" I mean I'm not describing plot points or characters, but under the cut I'll discuss the overarching themes, so be warned if that's too much for you. The first 7 reasons may be enough lol)

It's both funny AND wholesome. I literally can't read it without laughing out loud, and there are a bunch of chapters that make me cry every time I read them.

It's clever! The Japanese version contains several puns based on the kanji "魔" (read "ma", = devil, demon), starting from the title, but it's a recurring pun. The English translation adapts them pretty well. Plus, there are some of the best plot twists in recorded history (IMO). And the names and characteristics of most characters are based on real-life demonology.

It's queer AF. Like, really gay. There are explicitly homoromantic relationships and several nonbinary and gender non-conforming characters. One of these is the best unashamedly nonbinary character ever written. Plus, the manga premise can be seen as an allegory of hiding in the closet. The only thing that made me uncomfortable because of cisnormativity (boys in drag as a joke) is completely fixed in later chapters, and very well so.

It's feminist, without being preachy or paternalistic. Simply put, the women/girls are three-dimensional, complex characters, as the norm should be. And there are lots of them, without it being a harem (...the harem trope is actually used as a joke).

It's spooky and adorable, imagine Halloween vibes all year round. Both main and background characters are super diverse, and if you like monsters there is stuff for you.

Most characters are neurodivergent-coded. It's basically the autistic/ADHD manga.

The art is phenomenal. It's especially good to see the improvement of the art style over the years (the first chapter was published in 2017 and the manga is ongoing). Some panels are really breathtaking.

8. The story is about personal growth - like most shounen manga, fair enough. But the protagonist, Iruma, is so far from toxic masculinity I dare say he's the antidote to it.

9. It's also about found family, the discovery of unconditional love, and trust, and healing from familial trauma.

10. It's about finding a group of friends you belong to, and transforming your weirdness into a strength, identifying and cultivating what you're good at instead of fitting into a mold.

11. It's about the beauty of learning in your own way, and the importance of education and the shaping of future generations.

12. And the reason why I opened this blog: it's about fascism and fighting against it. I mean real fascism, as in "a powerful individual/group wants society to be hierarchical and oppress certain minorities, elevating a specific subset of the population based on intrinsic characteristics which are being misleadingly treated as merits". Ethno-nationalistic stuff. More specifically, it's about being a somewhat politically illiterate person, who learns about systems of oppression beyond personal injustices. It's about questioning what is the best way to arrange society.

13. Most importantly, this manga gives you hope about the future, something I find harder and harder to have. Hopelessness is dangerous - as people without hope stop fighting. This manga makes me actively feel better. Since it's ongoing I can't ensure it will always remain that way, but I've come to trust the author enough that I expect it to.

#osamu nish my beloved #this manga was seriously life-changing for me #i can't overstate this #partially writing this post as a reference for myself #because i recommend m!ik to most people i know #so i have all the reasons in one place lmao #feel free to use this the same way #mairimashita! iruma kun #m!ik #welcome to demon school iruma kun #wtdsik #iruma kun #mairuma

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reality-detective · 9 months ago

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Japanese’s education system vs. The West 🤔

#pay attention #educate yourselves #educate yourself #knowledge is power #reeducate yourself #reeducate yourselves #think about it #think for yourselves #think for yourself #do your homework #do some research #do your own research #ask yourself questions #question everything #japan #school #you decide #education system

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caesium-55 · 9 months ago

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—seven days. [ iii ]

pairing: max verstappen x manager! reader.

summary: as the third time world champion, max verstappen's manager, you function on the belief that whatever max verstappen wanted, max verstappen shall get. but this time, after four years of working as his manager, you can't give him what he wants anymore and that was to stay.

author's note: hi hello welcome to part three. i flunked the quiz. lemme know what you think. NOT BETA READ. NOT EDITED. this chapter kinda sux. can't believe i went through a breakup just last week and i still cant write decent post-breakup scenes.

tags: @whatamidoingwithmylife-ramdom @eugene-emt-roe @bellezaycafe @barnestatic @theseerbetweenus @wcnorris @notyouraveragemochii @lpab hope i didn't forget anyone.

masterlist.

you: *sent a link*

him: ?

him: what's this

you: benefits of crying

you: read it it's enlightening

him: some people do not cry over a breakup you know and that is totally okay

you: why crying helps.

you: 1. tears release toxins, stress hormones to be specific. it is good to let all the bad energy out.

you: 2. it aids sleep. no need for further explanation.

you: 3. crying releases oxytocin and endorphins. i know you don't know what an oxytocin or an endorphin is but they're happy chemicals.

you: 4. crying helps you receive the support you need from the people around you. EMOTIONAL VULNERABILITY is okay, max. stop treating it like an STD.

him: it feels like an std

you: pussy

you: emotional vulnerability is a thing and it's normal so stop trying to be a big strong man when you're barely holding it together.

you: you may look fine now but i know you

him: please stop

you: no

you: 5. crying has a self soothing effect. very nice actually. it activates the rest and digest system.

him: what even is that

you: the parasympathetic nervous system

him: ??

you: this is why you shouldn't have dropped out of high school

you: education is important yknow

you: youre already lacking in three forms of intelligence, academic, emotional n social intelligence

him: fuck you im smart

you: fuck you 2 and yeah you're smart but only in geography

you: you probably can't do your taxes

him: im dutch so the company's account department do it for me by default

him: the american system is just weird

you: cant argue w/ u there

you: also, 6. crying helps restore emotional balance

you: see? you need that

you: yknow now that i think abt it you should consider seeking therapy

him: what makes you think i’m not in therapy right now

you: well have you considered getting MORE therapy?

You stand in front of the body mirror, holding the Red Bull polo shirt against your body to see how it looks on you for one last time. On your right sleeve, the word MANAGER is written in bold, white text. Because that was what you were. Just a manager.

In another universe this is not the shirt that you’d be wearing. The MANAGER would have been ENGINEER. In another another universe where your family has been well-off enough to continuously send you to karting school and you would have been the one driving the fucking car by now.

You know, if Max has even tried talking to Horner and suggested that you should be moved into the engineering team, then you wouldn't be stuck wearing this god-awful polo that burned your skin every time you wore it for work. Everybody reduced you as Max’s American manager and because you are American, most of them kind of just assumed that you're dumb, you know?

Does the world even know how smart you are? That you graduated top of your class, got the best thesis award, and that you had finished your masters just this year? Did they even know that a Japanese car company wanted you on their research team? That a NASCAR team wanted you on board as one of their engineers? Does Max even know?

Fuck no. He only knows that you're the best at ironing clothes and organizing his Google calendar and memorizing his entire coffee order by heart. He knew you're good at extinguishing kitchen fires and kicking ass in YSL Opyum heels. You doubt he knows that you can do Calculus in your sleep.

You can take it if the world puts you down for your appearance. But if the world puts you down because of your intellect? That's a different story. You'll take any insult to the face but not to your intelligence.

You have four days left in Monaco so you have begun packing already. You're right, everything did fit into three suitcases. Also, you haven't told Max yet. For some reason, you’re too anxious. Which is shocking to say the least because you never ever gets anxious when it came to Max Verstappen. You wouldn't have lasted this long working alongside Max if you were a pussy.

Max Max Max Super Max Max—

“[Name] here. Need anythin’, champ?”

Hearing a sob on the other end of the line immediately activates your fight or flight response. Your eyes widen and you toss the Red Bull shirt aside. Your legs leads you to the nearly empty shoe rack stationed beside the front door, grabbing the pair of shoes at the very top of the tiny shelf and throwing them on.

“I’m comin’ there. Hang on, Max. You wait for me, okay?”

He doesn't answer, just continuing to sob and the sound absolutely breaks your heart.

You run to his penthouse at a speed that will even put the RB19 to shame. Not even bothering to knock, you barge in and yell his name in the empty halls of his penthouse. You search in the kitchen. He's not there. The living room. Not there either. The room where his simulations are. Not there. You run to his bedroom upstairs.

The door is locked. Dammit. Panic overflooded your system.

“Max, sweetheart, you there?”

No answer, but you can hear a faint sound behind the door if you press your ear against the wood. Firefighter training covered how to open a fucking door when it was locked so this once again becomes a situation where you're grateful that you did that tiring and borderline suicidal volunteer work.

Max keeps a fire extinguisher inside his penthouse as per your advice. There is one stationed in almost every room inside his house. You knew there is one inside his room and another one just at the end of the hallway. You make a quick run for it and once you have the extinguisher in your hands, you run back to his door.

“Step away from the door!” you instructed while your mind mentally calculates your payment plan as you hit the door knob with so much force, the walls tremble at your strength. You're functioning on pure adrenaline. Your instincts only yell one thing and that is: go to Max. No one and nothing in this world will keep you from him. It isn't long until his bedroom door broke down. With one last final kick, it crumbles down from its hinges and you forcefully pry it open and sprint inside.

Max tucks himself in the tiny space in the corner of his huge bedroom, his knees shoved up to his chest. A 181-cm tall man trying to make himself as small as possible.

This is it. This is the bottled-up emotions he's been storing since Abu Dhabi. You cannot say you have not anticipated this. Max is bound to explode sooner or later.

Panic attacks have made a home in Max’s body since he was a child. That's what one gets when they’re parented by someone like Jos Verstappen. He killed Max’s soul and made the boy a machine and for what? To shape a child into a man, a racer that he wanted to be but failed to become at the cost of Max's mental health and childhood.

When Max looks up with that heartbreaking look on his face, you almost crumble. Almost, because you cannot crumble. Not when Max needs you.

Sometimes, you forget what it took for Max to become the champion that he is today. A childhood sacrificed for his dominance on the tracks. A whole lot of hatred from the people to become a WDC. And now, a love lost for his third consecutive championship.

“You came,” his voice cracks towards the end.

Your eyes soften, “You called, Max. Course I’ll come.”

You barely brace yourself for the impact that is Max’s body wrapping around yours in a tight hug. The man have literally launch himself from the floor to you at sixth gear speed. You stumble backwards slightly, holding his bed for support so the both of you won't fall down.

“Max—”

“No,” he whispers and his grip on your tightens as if he's afraid that you’ll slip away if he even tried to give your lungs space to breathe. “Don't speak. Stay.”

What Max wanted, what Max would get. So you shut your mouth, shuffle slightly so he'll be in a more comfortable position and allow him take whatever he wants from you. This will be the last chance he’ll ever do it anyway because in four days time, you’re flying to Texas.

You stay for what is probably hours in that position. Crumbled together on the floor, leaning against the side of Max’s king-sized bed. Your shirt is completely damp from his tears but you cannot even bring yourself to care about it.

“Your shoes…” It's the first time Max has spoken since the start of his meltdown.

“Hm?” you turn your head and your nose nuzzles against his hair, making you scrunch it up a little. His hair is tickling your nostrils. If you lean a little forward, your lips will meet the skin of his temple.

“They’re mismatched.”

Brows furrowed, your eyes move to your feet and see that Max is right. Your shoes are indeed mismatched. On your left is one of your Adidas slides and the other is your slip-on Skechers. You ran from one building to another in mismatched shoes. Fucking embarassing.

“Ignore them.”

Silence.

“You good now?”

“No.”

“Okay,” you say. “If you want to talk, I’ll listen.”

You hear Max let out a shaky breath, “Just stay for a while. Don't leave me alone.”

“Okay.”

Eventually, you manage to talk Max out of the hug. You're beginning to feel claustrophobic but you do not want to say it out right so you try to negotiate instead. That's how you and Max found yourselves inside his kitchen again. You're trying to replicate your Abuela's cheesecake, which she was known for back in Austin, and Max is…well, he's Max and he’s trying to be helpful in any way he can. If it's some other day, you'd have shoved him out of the way because you prefer working alone in the kitchen. Having eyes on you gives you anxiety. But given today’s circumstances, you do not have the heart to make Max leave so you task him with doing the little stuff like mixing things and throwing shit to the trash can nearby. And he does so splendidly.

“Thank you, by the way.”

“For what, baby?” You internally wince at your own slip of the tongue. Damn that habit of yours of calling people with affectionate call signs. Thankfully, Max seems to have not noticed it.

“For coming here.”

You shrug.

“I only did what you did for me in 2021.”

Again, your breakup with Leo was bad bad. You spent a month crying for a love lost and Max was there for you. For the most part, at least. You want him to focus on winning and winning alone that you pushed him away a lot of times but you appreciated how he was more obedient to your commands, that he held his tongue so he wouldn't piss you off even though he was not liking your words, and that he was considerate of you.

“I hope you won't go into fights though,” you chuckle. “Like I did after my breakup.”

He smiles, shaking his head lightly and you know he's recalling the memory. 2021 is a hilarious year for you, the Red Bull manager. You went viral after getting into a cat fight with a girl and a whole fist fight with her boyfriend.

You and Leo called it quits a week before Monaco and even though it had been four races since then, your heart was still in a quite fragile state at that specific race weekend. One minor inconvenience was enough to ignite a wild blaze of fire within you and nobody could extinguish the flames.

After Silverstone FP1, you were leading Max to the cool down room to brief him with Horner’s relayed instructions and someone had thrown a glass bottle towards the both of you while walking. Originally, Max was the main target of the bottle but you happened to have moved towards the line of trajectory and the bottle landed on your temple, hard enough that you stumbled upon impact.

You barely heard Max’s shocked gasp and shout of panic over the sound of glass shattering on your foot because the only thing you could register was the terrifying feeling of a thick liquid trickling down the side of your face and you didn't even need to see it to know it was blood.

The only thing you saw was red and it was on fucking sight.

Fucking Hamilton fan. Fucking Hamilton. He’s in Max’s way. He’s in your way. He’s the wall that was dividing you from your dream position in the engineering team.

You shoved the iPad you were holding to Max’s hands and marched down to the woman wearing the Merc #44 merch, swiftly jumping over the barricade and grabbing her by the collar of her pristine white Versace top.

The events that followed were too fast. You grabbed her collar. She pulled your hair. You also pulled her hair. Someone pulled her away from you. You tried to grab her, clawing her bare arms with your manicured nails. She screamed. You screamed back. You pulled out some curse words in Spanish as well because cursing her in one language alone is not enough. Her boyfriend appeared. A quick punch to your cheek. You fell to the ground.

The world stood still. There was a sting on your palm because your skin got torn from the hard surface of the concrete ground. You let a bloodcurdling war cry and your Dad would definitely be disappointed at you for using the boxing techniques he taught you for self defense purposes only to fight a guy two times your size.

Everything was a bigger blur from there. But you did remember the sensation of Max’s strong arms around you, stopping you from lunging forward again. He was saying sweet words to your ear to calm you down but your brain failed to intercept them so you could hear the words, could hear his voice, but not understand any of it. You remember Christian Horner's disappointed face that haunted you even two years later. You remembered feeling so terrified as you sat outside Christian Horner’s office waiting for the final verdict while he and Max and a few of the Red Bull higher-ups argued about your future with the team. You remembered hearing Max’s loud snarl on the other side of the mahogany door: “Did you see her face?! There was blood everywhere! On her nose, on her mouth, on the fucking side of her head!” You remembered the girl taking the case to court. You remembered fearing that you’d be sent to jail. You remembered that she lost the case because it was ruled as self defense and your injuries were grave. You remembered discovering that it was Max who used all his power and got the best lawyer to fight your case. You remembered the atmosphere in the Red Bull garage shifting when you entered it a few weeks later and everyone stared the bandages and bruises. Everyone thought one thing: of course, it would also take a monster to manage a monster like Max Verstappen. You remembered Lewis Hamilton, seven-time world champion, apologizing personally for the fight caused by his own fan. He didn't need to but he was so sincere with it that you cried when he handed you the apology flowers. God, how could you even hate this man? Your anger towards him was misplaced.

You’d been living with the guilt ever since, that you were horrifyingly violent for a day, that you were capable of killing for a day. And it could happen again. One day. God, you hoped you wouldn't have to see that day. You knew all your coworkers have been careful with angering you ever since. They're terrified of you even. Max should be, too. But then again, why would he when he already saw the horrors done by his father’s hands ever since he was a child? He was used to it.

“I won't,” he says, smiling at you. “I wouldn't want to add anymore problems for you to clean up.”

But you will not be the one cleaning it up because you resigned. You didn’t tell that to him though. Not right now. He just had a meltdown over Kelly leaving him and the news of his manager leaving him too will destroy him.

The cheesecake is a little burnt when you take it out of the oven but it actually adds more flavor to it so yeah, that's a win.

“We should drink,” you suggest.

“It’s mid-afternoon.”

“We drank at mid-afternoon yesterday,” you give him a blank stare. “With Alex and Charles, remember?”

He doesn't say anything as you make your way to his fridge and pull out two bottles of beer. Max has champagne stored somewhere but you have enough of those expensive champagnes. You need beer. Beer is good. Beer is nice. You're a beer type of person and it is time Max becomes one, too.

“I’m no scientist,” you begin, biting off the beer’s bottle cap. “But according to chemistry, alcohol is solution.”

Well, technically, edible alcohol or ethanol is not a mixture. Rather, it's a pure substance that happens to be a liquid at room temperature and typical atmospheric pressure. Pure ethanol is not a solution. Hard spirits though? That's a solution.

Beer is not a hard spirit. It's more of a fermented drink. But Max doesn't know that, though, so you don't bother explaining the science behind it.

Somewhere down the road, the two of you move to his living room. You use the Youtube app in his TV to search karaoke video and have the bestest time of your lives. You're screaming along some Daddy Yankee and El Alfa songs and Max doesn't know how to speak Spanish so he’s just vibing to it.

At 5 PM, you pull out Max’s expensive vodka bottle. Now this is the real shit. The ten bottles of beer? Those are just pregame. Max is already drunk with just those because he’s a pussy but you’re no pussy, so the only right answer is vodka! Viva la vodka or whatever.

Your throat gets tired of singing and Max gets tired from dancing, too, so you both decide to just go entertain yourselves in other ways. First, you introduced Max to beer-pong. He loses, of course. He sucks at everything not racing. Then, the two of you move onto chess. Max gives up mid-game. He cannot understand the rules. Then, lastly, you move to the billiard table Max owned. He only used it when the other guys are over and you do not even know why he bought it when he sucked at playing billiards.

“You know what Kelly said the morning before the race?” Max suddenly says and you look up at him, brow raising slightly. He’s drunk; his skin is flushed and he is all giggly and smile-y as he sits on the billiard table’s side rail and using the billiard stick as some sort of support stand to keep him from falling. You hope he won't accidentally poke himself. You're no better, too. Ten beer bottles and a few glasses of vodka. But you’re not as drunk as Max, and you still have a straight vision and you can still sink the colored balls into the pockets of the billiard table.

“Hm?”

“That it was unfair for her.”

You raise a questioning brow, “Why?”

“I bought shoes and they don't fit her.”

You blink. He laughs at himself as if he has uttered the funniest joke in the world.

“Three years of relationship gone because of a single pair of shoes,” he continues. “She wanted those shoes, too.”

Kelly….what the fuck?

“But that's okay. She….She made me open my eyes, you know? She made me realize what I truly love.”

“Racing.” It's not even a question. It's the truth.

Max stares at you, long and hard, and you look away first because you fear that if you allow yourself to stare too long, you’ll drown in those beautiful blues. This is enough heartache for the day. No need to add more.

“Hey [Name],” he begins. “If I asked you to kiss me, would you do it?”

#manager!reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen #f1 x reader #f1 imagines #formula one #fanfic #angst #mv1 #mv33 x reader #mv33

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shiftchii · 2 months ago

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U.A. High in my DR !

Basics

Students are separated randomly into specific departments and classes sectioned by the letters A-K.

These departments are:

Department of Heroics (A - B): Students in this department learn everything they need to know in order to become excellent heroes in service to the community. They are trained in battle, first aid, rescue, support, and all manners of heroic-related lessons.

Department of General Education C - E): Students who don’t make it to the hero course are included here. This department supports students aiming for college and other pursuits. It’s also possible for students with good grades and exceptional strength and quirk skills to be transferred into the hero course (And either the support or business course mind you). Basically regular HS but they get to say that they went to UA on their resume.

Department of Support (F - H): Students here focus on developing support equipment that helps heroes out on the battlefield. With a workspace stock to the brim with all sorts of special tools and their own studio to build things, this department provides an unmatched creative environment.

Department of General Management (I - K): This department focuses on all aspects of heroic business, from the founding and managing of hero agencies to the promotion of public opinion regarding heroes. They even do hands-on lessons in venture capitalism. They have a lot of free time.

Each class is usually comprised of 21 students. That means that the total student population at UA would be 693.

We stay in the same class with the same teacher for all 3 years.

Since UA is a highly prestigious school, we get a lot of funding and benefits for the dorms and when we go on trips and whatnot. (Food we buy for the dorms is paid for, we get free snacks/concessions in the sports festival, free hero costume updates and renewals)

The school curriculum is way less loaded than here. The school system is much better.

The Hero Teachers are actually good at teaching.

Since U.A. is famous, it has many sponsors with support and hero merch companies, so some hero course students (usually 3rd years) have their own hero merch already. Students are sometimes sponsored and do photoshoots and are invited to red carpet events. (Following the School Festival, Class 1-A gets loads of sponsors and stuff!)

The teachers and students are encouraged to decorate their classes and most of them do so.

U.A. has a popular school website.

Staff and students are recommended to have Twitter to update the public events, the majority of the students obviously don't take this seriously, there's always someone who has beef and makes it public (Monoma) and it always ends up like those MHA Tweets, it’s the funniest thing ever.

Schedule

School is Monday - Friday and starts at 8:25 and finishes at 15:10. Regular classes take place during the first half of school, then the afternoon (for the Dept. of Heroics) you will have hero training. Only Dept. of Heroics students have an additional 7th period.

The teachers move between classes while the students stay in 1 class (besides electives).

Wednesdays are half days and only consist of hero training (so no typical school work), though sometimes it's replaced by FHS. You also don't have to wear your uniform on Wednesdays.

We will always have some kind of free time for school despite our somewhat busy schedules.

Not all school days are the same (emergency drills, other schools coming to train with us, etc.).

Classes

Core Subjects for Dept. of Heroics

Homeroom: Taught by Aizawa. Acts as a study hall. The class reps will often give a small meeting with the class about important events during this period.

Japanese: Taught by Cementoss. Focuses on reading, writing, and literature.

Mathematics: Taught by Ectoplasm. Covers algebra, geometry, and calculus.

English: Taught by Present Mic. Emphasizes reading, writing, and conversation skills.

Home Economics: Taught by Midnight. Cooking and other aspects of household management.

Foundational Hero Studies (FHS): Taught by All Might, Aizawa or Midnight. Hero related studying: hero laws, safety precautions, first aid, jsl, media training, dividing hero and civilian identity etc.

Hero Training: Taught by various teachers, usually Aizawa or All Might, it changes every week and we are informed about the activities during homeroom. For example: Quirkless Combat, Rescue Training, Combat, Quirk Training etc.

Elective Subjects

Thought by various teachers. This is the only class where students move instead of teachers, these are shared, so you could end up with classmates from other classes. Students get to completely choose what electives they have. If they don’t choose, they are placed in extra training or study hall.

Options:

Foreign Languages (e.g., Chinese, Korean)

Journalism

Art Foundations

Photography

Ceramics

Psychology

Choir

Band

Orchestra

Woodshop

Metalshop

Chemistry

Poetry

Cooking

Baking

Biology

Physics

Film Analysis

Computer Programming

Animal Work

Volunteer Work

Theatre

Student Council

Literature Analysis

Forensics

Study Hall

Class 1-A Timetable

Around UA campus

The updated UA security system is really good. The sensors are so good, you don't even need to have your ID out. They can scan it anywhere on your person. If you lost or misplaced your ID, the gates also have facial recognition software, so it's fine. If you're not a student or staff, you NEED a visitor pass or the school will go into lockdown on you.

We can use our school IDs to get snacks and drinks from vending machines around the school hallways. It’s free and they are replenished daily.

UA has a courtyard where we can eat outside. Most of the 2nd and 3rd years get food from places outside of the school campus and eat outside in the courtyard. Because of this, the cafeteria isn't as crowded and when we eat lunch we can sit and enjoy our food comfortably. The cafeteria is also luxurious and looks like a fancy mall café.

The library is huge and has many resources with much to explore. There are many different levels with varying types of quiet floors and study halls. It's also open 24/7 so students who are fighting to finish a project can pull all-nighters.

There’s a little shop that has U.A. and hero merch and school supplies including books for courses. You can also buy the merch on the online website.

UA has extracurricular groups and clubs for those who aren't in the hero course such as other sports and things like cheerleaders, debate, theater, music, cooking, ballet, and much more. I mean, hero course students CAN do those things but they WILL have a hard time doing so all while dealing with said hero responsibilities. As mentioned before, business course students have a lot of free time and general ED students are basically regular HS students who just so happen to be going to UA and for support course students, it really depends on how much work you choose to take on for yourself.

There is a study center where students who need extra help can go. Students with failing grades must go here for a set amount of hours to get the help they need. It’s strictly work, and talking about anything other than school is basically prohibited. It’s usually run by Ectoplasm and his clones or Hound Dog.

Work studies & Internships

All first years do an internship, it’s required. This is usually after the sports festival when students have had a chance to show off their skills.

Work studies are basically experience-oriented off-study programs that allow students in the hero course who have Provisional Licenses to work with pros at their agencies. Students will be able to use their quirks under the guidance of a pro, and can even be dispatched to fight villains and help out in disaster areas. If you do well, you can be scouted to become the hero’s sidekick.

Work studies are a more serious version of internships. They entail helping pro heroes on the streets and with investigations. They are usually reserved for 2nd and 3rd-year students, who usually have their licenses. 1st years didn't do them in the past. However, with the rise of villain activity, the school decided to open up work studies to 1st years as well, albeit a very small and select few of them. If they didn't find a good agency with a proven track record they wouldn't do it at all.

Events

U.A. has seasonal dances and a lot of events, like Halloween, Hero Day and other festivals.

Uniforms

Color palette

The uniforms the students receive consist of 4 sets of each clothing (besides the coat and varsity jacket):

Shirts

Long sleeve

Short sleeved

Sleeveless

Blazer

Long sleeves

Sleeveless

Cardigans

Sleeveless (two color variations)

Long sleeved (two color variations)

Sweaters

Sleeveless (two color variations)

Long sleeved (two color variations)

Pants

Shorts

Below The Knee

Classic

Skirts

Mini

Below The Knee

Maxi

Ties

Necktie

Bow Tie

Socks

Quarter

Crew

Knee High

Thigh High

Tights

Shoes

Coat

Varsity Jacket

Gym Clothing

Tank top

Loose Zip-up Sweatshirt (long sleeves, short sleeves, sleeveless)

Cropped Zip-up Sweatshirt (long sleeves, short sleeves, sleeveless)

Shorts

Below Knee Shorts

Sweatpants

Swimwear

Sleeveless, Short sleeved and Long sleeved

Lanyards

Uniforms aren’t required on Wednesdays

Students are allowed to accessorize their uniforms however they want and wear their own jackets

Piercings, colored hair, nails, makeup etc. are allowed

The uniforms aren’t gendered - all students receive all versions and are allowed to wear whichever one they prefer

For students with mutant type Quirks, custom made uniforms are made

Button and sleeve/lapel stripe differences between the department uniforms [1-General education, 2-Hero, 3-Support, 4-Management].

School Bag

Along with the Uniforms the school hands out bags. You can return them and use your own if you’d like.

A standard deep blue nylon matching the uniforms. The U.A. logo sits at the right bottom corner.

Class

If you’re standing at the front of the classroom looking out at the desks, the seating arrangement starts at the leftmost side of the room (“A” names), going front to back and then going to the next row to the right, and so on. keep in mind that the alphabetical order here is based on the Japanese alphabet. My number is 10.

Here's how I laid out the desks for 21 students:

Since we stay in the same classrooms for most of the days we can leave out stuff at our desks. They have shelves underneath with 2 outlets and lots of space.

Class 1-A Friend Groups

Everyone is actually really close, but those are what groups spend the most time together. Of course we hang out in different groups or all together too.

We have frequent movie and game nights, 1-A has a group chat and it’s always active, there’s always someone wanting to do something. Sometimes we invite people from other classes.

DekuSquad

Izuku

Ochako

Tenya

Tsuyu

Shouto

Haruka

Hitoshi (after he joins our class)

BakuSquad

Katsuki

Eijirou

Mina

Denki

Minoru

Hanta

TokoSquad

Fumikage

Mashirao

Mezou

Tooru

MomoSquad

Momo

Kyoka

Yuga

Kouji

Rikido

I hope this was helpful! <3

#mha dr #mha shifting #bnha dr #bnha shifting #shifting #shifting realities #reality shift #reality shifting #shifters #reality shifter #shiftblr #shifting community #desired reality #shifting motivation #shifting blog

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alwaysbewoke · 1 year ago

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Between 1940 and 1970, something remarkable happened to Asian Americans. Not only did they surpass African Americans in average household earnings, but they also closed the wage gap with whites. Many people credit this upward mobility to investments in education. But according to a recent study by Brown University economist Nathaniel Hilger, schooling rates among Asian Americans didn’t change all that significantly during those three decades. Instead, Hilger’s research suggests that Asian Americans started to earn more because their fellow white Americans became less racist toward them. How did that happen? About the same time that Asian Americans were climbing the socioeconomic ladder, they also experienced a major shift in their public image. At the outset of the 20th century, Asian Americans had often been portrayed as threatening, exotic and degenerate. But by the 1950s and 1960s, the idea of the model minority had begun to take root. Newspapers often glorified Asian Americans as industrious, law-abiding citizens who kept their heads down and never complained. Some people think that racism toward Asians diminished because Asians “proved themselves” through their actions. But that is only a sliver of the truth. Then, as now, the stories of successful Asians were elevated, while the stories of less successful Asians were diminished. As historian Ellen Wu explains in her book, “The Color of Success,” the model minority stereotype has a fascinating origin story, one that’s tangled up in geopolitics, the Cold War and the civil rights movement. To combat racism, minorities in the United States have often attempted to portray themselves as upstanding citizens capable of assimilating into mainstream culture. Asian Americans were no different, Wu writes. Some, like the Chinese, sought respectability by promoting stories about their obedient children and their traditional family values. The Japanese pointed to their wartime service as proof of their shared Americanness. African Americans in the 1940s made very similar appeals. But in the postwar moment, Wu argues, it was only convenient for political leaders to hear the Asian voices. The model minority narrative may have started with Asian Americans, but it was quickly co-opted by white politicians who saw it as a tool to win allies in the Cold War. Discrimination was not a good look on the international stage. Embracing Asian Americans “provided a powerful means for the United States to proclaim itself a racial democracy and thereby credentialed to assume the leadership of the free world,” Wu writes. Stories about Asian American success were turned into propaganda. By the 1960s, anxieties about the civil right movement caused white Americans to further invest in positive portrayals of Asian Americans. The image of the hard-working Asian became an extremely convenient way to deny the demands of African Americans. As Wu describes in her book, both liberal and conservative politicians pumped up the image of Asian Americans as a way to shift the blame for black poverty. If Asians could find success within the system, politicians asked, why couldn’t African Americans?

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shoplifting · 11 months ago

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THE best language app/site I've ever used (usually Very in depth and in some cases offers a whole textbook for a dollar) got my hopes up when it had Mandarin and Cantonese separate, Urdu, Filipino, and Farsi, but then there were 0 languages originating from the Americas or Australia and Aotearoa, no Mongolian even though it isn't part of any other languages' language family, and the primarily African languages are.... Swahili and Afrikaans. The most relevant for my metro area is Somali, which has so few apps and digital resources I only downloaded a kid's learn-to-read app. It's leagues better than those things that are like "here's the same 10 languages offered on every app plus one or two others for Flavor" and I've never seen an ad for the app itself, just the individual language courses, but the popularity of certain languages, among people who have the time and energy to learn them as a hobby, is definitely playing some sort of role in which languages are and aren't offered and we need to increase demand and/or pressure which... especially considering the lack of Somali resources despite the population in my major US city for years due to the civil war, is infuriating to need.

A lot of duolingo alternatives getting posted rn which is nice except for the fact that it’s kinda reminding me exactly why I got fed up with langblr, i.e. literally only caring about the same 5 languages lol

#i was one of those people for 2 years of high school and then i started learning farsi to keep up with the news #and in retrospect the ease in which i and others follow that pattern is terrifying. which. duh.#but i wouldn't have questioned it until i had something motivating me to learn not for a hobby or job opportunity #its awful and once again im reminded how we need to completely restructure the us education system #(ik its a problem outside of the us but french spanish mandarin & japanese were our entire district's coverage. we barely hear french here)#none of this is the main point of the post but i have so much praise for that app that im more angry than usual about language app options

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writingwithcolor · 1 year ago

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Hey folks!

It has been a while! Well, we wanted to announce some big things coming your way!

WWC Askbox: Soft Re-Opening

Wednesday, Nov 1, 2023 to Thursday, Nov 30, 2023

In light of the recent attention WWC has received by the writeblr community, and the reception to our Guide to Academic Research—the mods have decided that we will temporarily reopen to your questions and test some important changes to the site! As you may have noticed, we've taken a much-needed break to catch up on our personal lives and restore our inspiration to answer the hundreds of Q&A that we receive.

Once the submission window is up on Nov 30, we will evaluate how our new system is going, tinker some more, and reopen once again once the construction dust clears.

New Rules and FAQ!

We are pleased to announce our new and improved Masterpost, which we hope will be a more centralized, more informative resource for those new and returning to WWC.

Brand-new FAQs, with new answers and content for further reading

Code of Conduct and other etiquette rules

The Ask Tutorial—a guide to writing a good ask that we’ll answer!

Moving forward, all followers are required to go through the masterpost to submit a question so they are aware of the new rules, terms & conditions.

Read the masterpost here and ask your question!

New Process

We're piloting out our own personal askbox via Google Forms. This will help us streamline the process and keep track of everyone’s questions.

We are also introducing the Deletion Log, a public, anonymous ledger that lets you know if your question (identified by a number code) has been deleted due to a rule violation, and what you can do to resubmit. Check out the Deletion Log here.

Want to submit an ask?

The below are topics of asks that we will get to right away, based on the mods who are currently active.

Black

Chinese

Colonialism

Iranian/Persian

Japanese (INCLUDING: Anime fanfic questions! Only Mod Rina will be answering anime questions, and only if she feels that the ask would make for an educational post.)

Jewish

Mixed race

South Asian: Hindu, Indian, Punjabi, Sikh (please remember that when asking about South Asia you must indicate region & time period)

Taiwanese

Writing/Publishing industry

Coming Soon: Writingwithcolor.org

We've made tremendous progress on writingwithcolor.org and are almost ready to show off the more permanent residence of WritingWithColor! However, it'll take a lot of time to fully transfer posts and links. To get the new look and all its benefits to you faster, we plan for a soft launch of the content. This will include back and forth linking between WritingWithColor.org and our home on Tumblr. We'll try to keep things seamless and your viewing experience on Tumblr shouldn't be too interrupted. Launch date is coming soon!

New Mod Applications

We still have some applications from our last call of mods and folks to respond to. So if you haven’t heard back, sorry for the delay, but no worries—we will get back to you as we start shaking the dust off our bones and getting back into Q&A. Once we are ready to invite more mods again, we'll continue our outreach.

A Special Thanks To You All

We want to thank you for your continued support, whether it’s been viewership, spreading the word about us, or sending us a tip that supports our domain and future projects for you all. The whole team really appreciates it. We will keep bringing you our best advice and guides on all things good writing with inclusivity.

Be well and keep writing!

~WWC

#announcements #writing with color #writeblr #send asks

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threepandas · 5 months ago

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Your Biggest Fan: Part 2

-Villian Yandere Izuku-

Did you know his Hero~ was blacklisted at twenty-six different agencies, for publicly calling them out on Quirkist policies they refused to change? The most recent was for blatant mutation Quirk discrimination. The lead hero not only ignored it! He PARTICIPATED! She blasted it EVERYWHERE~

He's going to lose his license.

There are entire CITIES where she's not welcome. Agencies that won't answer her calls. Step after stubborn step, ever forward, as she stands the only thing between the SUFFERING, the WEAK, and the endless SEWAGE that spews and spews their hate! Ah~♡

She's so COOL~♡

Her costume's super practical, you know? She got it designed over seas! You can really see the western influences! They like focus on protection first, THEN Quirk. Instead of the other way around! Not like the Japanese. We also focus on marketability when designing, where as she went into a tax funded Heroics system for her education.

It makes her look INTIMIDATING. Foreign. Vaguely militaristic. Ha ha! As though that's not what Heros ARE! What they have BECOME! But not Her~ oh no, no no no, SHE took their tools and made KINDNESS out of it!

Safe parks to play in! Eco-friendly lighting for roads at night! Donating time and money to old pre-quirk cultural heritage sites. So she can help preserve history and traditions! Because before Quirks? We were still PEOPLE. Our past is IMPORTANT.

Community and kindness, mercy and... and...!

He whines. Squirms in his chair. So cool! SO COOL~♡!

It's so hard to keep his hands to himself. To keep them respectful. He shouldn't-! He CAN'T-! But... ah~ look at how REGAL she looks! And in THIS photo? She looks so soft and kind? Giving a speech to kids~ He wishes it was him. He would listen for HOURS. It'd be amazing.

He bet he could ask SO many questions! And... and she'd answer ALL of them! She'd be so happy to have an active listener. Someone engaged. Attentive. He'd remember ALL her talking points and ask after each one~ They'd talk for HOURS. P-probably get thirsty. She notice the time.

Go "ah, look at the time, Izuku-chan! It's been so long! Getting so LATE! But I still want to talk to you! We should get dinner." And he'd say YES, of course!

He can't resist anymore. The thoughts, his fantasy, too much to endure. His eyes flick from photo to photo. Not enough, not yet, but soon... so they WILL be. He'll get MORE. Right now... right now he needs... ah! There. Graduation. Formal dress.

He can pretend it's a date~♡

All dressed up, just... just to meet HIM! He can barely breath at the thought. The audacity of it. She would NEVER. B..But he could dream, right? No one needs to know. What he IMAGINES. What he thinks about as his hands unbuckle his belt, drag his pants down and open wide.

As he TOUCHES.

Runs hands across his skin, up under his shirt and vest, down and across where he wants it most, like he's EXPLORING. Like he's someone else. Someone with gentle, powerful, hands. His back arches, hips lift, but he refuses to stop his teasing. He wants to be rough. Would want HER to be rough.

She would refuse him.

He... he just KNOWS she would. Would tell him everyone else has been rough enough. Their first time should be gentle~♡ Ah~

She would grind the tip until he couldn't STAND it, just like he is. Listen to him babble and beg. Hips bucking in her grip. Begging her to let him WORSHIP her. To slide to his knees between her legs and never come out. Use his tounge and his fingers to make HER feel good. Make her MELT. Over and over, forever~

Just the thought of it has him spilling into the fist of his hand. All but milking himself dry. It's not enough. His body rides the aftershocks of pleasure and still... drinking in HER, plastered up all around his desk, brought up on his screen, it's not ENOUGH.

He needs audio. Videos. Enough for that high end deep fake program he had made. He... he could make her say ANYTHING. The thought sends a sharp, shuddering, jolt of pleasure through him. He could have SO MANY videos of their dates and... and intimate moments and casual conversations! All before he gets the courage up to TALK to her!

It's perfect~♡

Like a scrapbook of their lives to come! W-well, a FANTASY scrap book... Cool as she is? Busy as she is? She probably doesn't even have TIME to date. And what could a deku like him even OFFER? But... but ah~♡

He can DREAM can't he?

Look out for her, like she looks out for everyone else?

He's her number one FAN! They didn't talk for very long... but he can already TELL. He IS. She's the BEST. And she's gonna be his number one too~

#threepandas #yandere bnha #yandere mha #yandere izuku midoriya #izuku x reader #villian izuku #izuku midoriya #villain deku #your biggest fan au #biggest fan au #local lil creep obsessed #more at 11 #and we love him for it #deku x reader #mha deku #bnha deku #hero reader #yandere #stalker yandere

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exilepurify · 2 years ago

Text

“You know a lot of big words.” — Determining Shigeo’s Kanji Literacy

An analysis in four parts:

Jouyou kanji and Japan’s compulsory education system, explained.

An introduction to the analysis—what I did and why I did it.

A presentation of data, evidence, and counterarguments.

The truth revealed: can Shigeo write a reasonable amount of kanji for his age group?

Jouyou kanji and Japan’s compulsory education system, explained

Let us begin this analysis by establishing a basic understanding of how Japan’s education system is structured.

As you may already know, only elementary school and middle school are compulsory in Japan, meaning that high school and college are completely optional. Therefore, compulsory education in Japan consists of grades 1-9, with grades 1-6 being 小学校 (primary school) and grades 7-9 being 中学校 (middle school).

The term 「常用漢字」(jouyou kanji, “Daily-Use Kanji”) refers to a list of 2136 kanji that the Japanese Ministry of Education requires be taught throughout education grades in Japan due to their importance and frequency of use in Japanese daily life. Knowing all 2136 is defined by the Japanese government as the baseline for basic, functional literacy in Japanese. The jouyou kanji list is further divided into two sub-categories: 「教育漢字」(kyouiku kanji, “Education Kanji”) and 「中学・高校漢字」(chuugaku • koukou kanji, “Secondary School Kanji”).

教育漢字 (kyouiku kanji, “Education Kanji”) (A.K.A. 学年別漢字配当表 [gakunenbetsu kanji haitouhyou, “list of kanji by school year”]) is the Japanese term for the 1006 kanji that are taught over the 6 years of primary school in Japan, grouped into different grade levels by difficulty and complexity.

「中学・高校漢字」(chuugaku • koukou kanji, “Secondary School Kanji”) is the term for the 1130 kanji that students are expected to learn throughout middle school and high school. This list of kanji is not strictly divided by grade level, though a general grade level is often provided, because students in secondary school—whether it be middle or high—are expected to learn kanji more independently. Though the responsibility of learning these kanji is shifted from the classroom to the individual, the importance of knowing these kanji by the end of one’s education, if that be middle school or high school, cannot be overstated. Once again, these 2136 kanji are considered the basics of Japanese kanji fluency.

According to the “Kanji Frequency Number Survey/漢字頻度数調査” conducted by the National Cultural Affairs Division in 2000, in 385 books published by a major publishing company, 8474 different kanji were used (not including duplicates). However, speakers are able to understand 99% of them if they know the top 2457 kanji, and 99.9% of them if they know the top 4208 kanji. And as is true for speakers of every other language, people can generally read more words than they can write.

I determined the “grade level” of each kanji in this analysis according to the grade level provided in my Japanese-English dictionaries, but consideration will be made for Secondary School Kanji due to the lack of official grade divisions and the less organized circumstances involved with learning them.

An introduction to the analysis—what I did and why I did it

In this analysis, I focused specifically on Shigeo’s ability to write kanji, not to read them. This is most obviously because it’s much harder to determine whether or not someone can actually read something, especially in anime, without it being explicitly mentioned. However, it is also because the meaning of kanji can be inferred from knowing the meaning of radicals, and as mentioned above, it is common for people to be able to read more words than they can write. The true mark of knowing a kanji is being able to write it.

To determine Shigeo’s kanji-writing ability, I studied screenshots from a few scenes from the anime, specifically a couple of scenes from the Reigen OVA where Shigeo is writing a LOT, and a couple scenes from the regular anime where Shigeo is explicitly seen writing stuff down and the audience is shown the writing.

The data has been organized into two different excel charts—one for kanji he uses correctly, and one for kanji he doesn’t know or messes up. The kanji in each of these charts have been color-coded and organized by grade level, with readings, translations, and explanations provided. There is only one kanji in the entire analysis that is not considered a part of the jouyou kanji, and this kanji has been marked by “N/A” in the grade level section.

I will provide each chart alongside a percentage likelihood that Mob will know any given kanji from each grade level based on the information gathered from the anime. Please note that the sample size is obviously limited, but I’m working with what I have. If there is a kanji with some sort of detail worth consideration, I’ve marked it with a (**) in the chart and will explain below.

Lastly, I included kanji used in names in the chart here after some deliberation. Name kanji are tricky in general, because multiple kanji share the same pronunciation and people usually don’t know what kanji are used in someone’s name unless they are shown by that person (unless it’s some crazy common name like 高田 or 森 or 田中).

A presentation of data, evidence, and counterarguments.

Shigeo’s known kanji:

Shigeo’s unknown kanji:

IMPORTANT NOTE: There are one or two instances of Shigeo NOT using a kanji at all that I’ve decided not to include on the chart. This is because it is common for Japanese speakers to omit kanji for super common verbs and write them in kana instead, either for personal style reasons or for convenience. Since the verbs are so fundamental and commonly-used, it’s unlikely that they will be misunderstood or mistaken for another word if written in kana. So, if Shigeo wrote the verb for “to read” or “to eat” without using kanji, I didn’t include it, as I highly highly highly doubt he doesn’t know those kanji and I felt like it would unfairly skew the results against him.

米** = I don’t blame Shigeo for not knowing this kanji. It’s fair to assume that Mob might not have seen Mezato’s name written out and therefore wouldn’t know which kanji to use. On TOP of that, “me” for 米 is a special nanori (used for names only) reading and is super obscure and uncommon. I couldn’t even find it in my name dictionary by searching “Mezato”, I had to find her name written in kanji in S1E3 and go from there. I wouldn’t expect this kanji to be in anyone’s top ten possible kanji guesses for the “me” in “mezato”. I included it because rules are rules, but wanted to mention this to make it fairer on the boy.

世** = I want to make it known that Shigeo does successfully write this kanji in the image shown here, when he writes 「世紀」(century):

HOWEVER. However. He messed it up SO BAD before that I think it actually overpowers him using it correctly and brings it back around to a “not properly known” kanji, especially because it’s a kanji taught in second grade that he shouldn’t be messing up at all:

The subtitles intersect it but I’ve rewritten what Shigeo wrote there at the bottom. He tried to write 「世の中には」”In the world…”, but tried to write the kanji, messed up, crossed it out, and then rewrote it in kana. Didn’t even try to write it a second time. This is egregious and, in my juror’s power, cancels out his later usage. This would be like misspelling “world” in English. I’m willing to entertain arguments that he just wanted to write it in kana for some reason, but as it is now, I don’t think that excuse is compelling enough against such damning evidence, so in “missed kanji” it goes. (It’s partly cut off but what gets me is that it doesn’t even look wrong in the first place lol but if he crossed it out, it means he didn’t know it well enough, which allowed him to doubt, which is still damning enough.)

造** = Just like above, Shigeo actually does successfully use this kanji once in the show when he’s filling out his paperwork for the Body Improvement Club in S1E2 (forgive my awful kanji, it’s hard to draw on the phone lol):

However, that was not only on an official school document, it was also in the presence of a student council member and Saruta (#2 in the grade lol) so I have to assume he either asked someone for help or got corrected. Either way, the instance where he doesn’t use the kanji is when he’s in his bedroom alone, writing in his personal notebook—a much more casual environment, and one that takes place AFTER s1e2 (can’t argue he learned it):

This leads me to believe that Shigeo does not naturally know the kanji, as he can’t reproduce it in casual day-to-day or when alone.

焉** = This kanji is not only not included in the jouyou kanji, but it is also used in an obscure word. In fact, it took me a minute to locate it in my Japanese-English dictionary app. It is absolutely not reasonable to expect Shigeo to know this kanji off the top of his head, and he probably wouldn’t know it even if he were a kanji ace. It is included and working against him, however, because the kanji he initially tried to write in its place was 「円」, a.k.a. the kanji for YEN/¥:

Sure, 「えん」is a reading for「円」, that part makes sense. But 「終焉」means “the finals years in one’s life”, so I’m really struggling to understand why Mob would think the yen money kanji would be a part of that word and why he would try to write it with that kanji instead of just writing it in kana first, like the majority of the kanji he didn’t know. It’s truly an enigma to me. I’m bewildered he even tried that, and for that, I’m holding it against him.

BASIC STATS:

GRADE 1 KANJI:

- Total known: 17

- Total unknown: 0

- Grand total: 17

- Shigeo knows: 17 out of 17

- Percentage likelihood of Shigeo knowing a grade 1 kanji: 100%

GRADE 2 KANJI:

- Total known: 16

- Total unknown: 3

- Grand total: 19

- Shigeo knows: 16 out of 19

- Percentage likelihood of Shigeo knowing a grade 2 kanji: 84.2%

GRADE 3 KANJI:

- Total known: 13

- Total unknown: 6

- Grand total: 19

- Shigeo knows: 13 out of 19

- Percentage likelihood of Shigeo knowing a grade 3 kanji: 68.4%

GRADE 4 KANJI:

- Total known: 11

- Total unknown: 0

- Grand total: 11

- Shigeo knows: 11 out of 11

- Percentage likelihood of Shigeo knowing a grade 4 kanji: 100%

(Baby apparently had a great year in fourth grade.)

GRADE 5 KANJI:

- Total known: 3

- Total unknown: 4

- Grand total: 7

- Shigeo knows: 3 out of 7

- Percentage likelihood of Shigeo knowing a grade 5 kanji: 43.9%

GRADE 6 KANJI:

- Total known: 0

- Total unknown: 2

- Grand total: 2

- Shigeo knows: 0 out of 2

- Percentage likelihood of Shigeo knowing a grade 6 kanji: 0%

😭

GRADE 7 KANJI:

(No known or unknown 7th grade kanji found)

GRADE 8 KANJI

- Total known: 5

- Total unknown: 6

- Grand total: 11

- Shigeo knows: 5 out of 11

- Percentage likelihood of Shigeo knowing a grade 8 kanji: 45.5%

^ To Shigeo’s credit, this isn’t bad at all considering he’s only halfway through his eight grade year at this point in the story.

% OF JOUYOU KANJI SHIGEO KNOWS:

% known from observed data:

65/86

75.6%

# of jouyou kanji: 2136

75.6% of 2136 = 1615 jouyou kanji

Here’s a graph for your visualizing pleasure:

Finally:

(All values are rounded up)

There are 1006 kyouiku kanji. There are 1130 secondary school kanji. Because high school in Japan is not compulsory, we’ll assume that the secondary kanji are to be learned over the three years of middle school. That means about 377 words per middle school grade. If Shigeo is halfway through eighth grade, let’s say he should generally know 1006 + 377 + (377/2) kanji, which comes out to 1,572.

There are 80 kyouiku kanji assigned to first grade, which Shigeo should know 100% of—80 total.

There are 160 kyouiku kanji assigned to second grade, which Shigeo should know 84.2% of—135 total.

There are 200 kanji assigned to third grade, which Shigeo should know 68.4% of—137 total.

There are 200 kanji assigned to fourth grade, which Shigeo should know 100% of—200 total.

There are 185 kanji assigned to fifth grade, which Shigeo should know 43.9% of—81 total.

There are 181 kanji assigned to sixth grade, which Shigeo should know… 0% of…. 0 total.

This all totals out to:

80 + 135 + 137 + 200 + 81 + 0 = 633/1006 elementary school-level kanji. That’s 63% of the kanji required for elementary school.

(Didn’t include a calculation for middle school kanji due to having 0 data on seventh-grade kanji and also him being halfway through eighth.)

The truth revealed: can Shigeo write a reasonable amount of kanji for his age group?

Uh… no. Maybe? Well… probably not, no.

I mean, of course there are flaws with my methods. I had a super small sample group and applied the stats there to all of the jouyou kanji, which is almost guaranteed to be lower than reality. I just didn’t really have another choice. Also, I’m very certain that Shigeo MUST know some 6th grade kanji, even if in the results here I considered the probability to be 0%. That’s assuredly not accurate. There were just, by chance, only two instances of sixth-grade kanji in all of the sample writing and he happened not to know either of them. This is just for fun, anyway. I can say with confidence, though, that he certainly isn’t a writer, and he definitely knows less kanji than the average eighth grader, but I wouldn’t take my numbers for anything more than entertainment.

But yeah. Shigeo is…. a little kanji-impaired. Which explains why he struggled with Emi’s writing and is only ever seen reading Shounen Jump volumes lmao. I believe in him though. He makes it work. My illiterate king. Who needs the other half of your elementary sight-words anyway?

All jokes aside though, he really started to scare me with the 世 and 円 things 😭😭😭😭😭

#mp100 #mob psycho 100 #FINALLY IT IS DONE. This took me forever bc i’ve been SOOOO busy this past week #i’ve missed posting on here #so here’s a super long post as apology lol #i actually had a lot of fun with this #im so tired rn tho so i’m desperately hoping it makes any damn sense at all #our illiterate boy #i love him #like i said don’t take it too seriously. it’s all in good fun #kageyama shigeo #shigeo kageyama #mp100 analysis #mp100 meta #described in alt text

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