#school dropout rates

[todayworldnews2k21]

Explore Inter-District Disparities in Andhra Pradesh: A Data Point Series by The Hindu Data Team

The Data Team of The Hindu has been exploring inter-district differences in southern States through a series of Data Points. District-wise variations in Tamil Nadu, Kerala, Karnataka and Telangana were discussed in the previous editions. This is the last story in the series which looks at the inter-district disparities in Andhra Pradesh. While uneven progress existed in all States analysed, there…

[autistic-disabled-poet]

Running the Numbers

Kindergarten At a fifth-grade math level, The human calculator. I was running the numbers.

Second grade. Able to skip first. "Two plus seven plus nine plus one million seven hundred eighty-five thousand three hundred and two" While playing popcorn math I was running the numbers.

Third grade. You start getting more homework. "Can you solve this for me?" they say, and I did it every time. I was running the numbers.

Fourth grade. Seen as more of a spectacle by now. "Her brain just works differently," the teacher announced to my classmates. They'd give me a problem and I was running the numbers.

Fifth grade. It started to change. They said I was good, but not enough according to my standards. I couldn't take it- I wanted to be more so I was running the numbers.

Sixth grade. Homeschool will do you in. Seventh, eighth, maybe ninth-grade math. I was freaking out but still, I was running the numbers.

Seventh grade. Suicide, shitty teachers, Covid. Virtual Pre-Algebra was such a wonderful sight. I was still running the numbers.

Eighth Grade, Public school, Algebra 1. Honors classes, GPA. I was doing others' Aleks, so I was running the numbers,

Ninth grade. "It’s so hard!" Friends would say, but I’d disagree and push myself to tears. Trying to get further ahead, I constantly was running the numbers.

Summer before tenth grade. Doing 5 lessons a day, Learning Algebra 2 to get ahead, to move on to PreCalculus. I was running the numbers.

Planning to go to the Governor’s School, maybe arts, maybe science. Planning to be Valedictorian. Planning for college, planning to be a doctor.

Constantly planning, wanting to be more, needing more. I burn out, want to never move from the couch, to quit. I get on a roll, running the numbers. Oh, I long for one minute to be a normal person, not need more, to not be running the numbers.

[raisinchallah]

its honestly very funny like how easy it was to walk into so many different programs as a dropout still in the age range of the average high schooler and like everyones falling all over themselves to try and get you to graduate high school but like u get that diploma or get a ged and suddenly its like ok well die then sdfsjkl;d;afsjkad;ls i mean they didnt treat me great as a teen either but like there were options they were ok with me failing and trying again even if they tried to break me but now trying to do anything else its like door slams in face

[autisticacademics]

Running the Numbers

Kindergarten At a fifth-grade math level, The human calculator. I was running the numbers.

Second grade. Able to skip first. "Two plus seven plus nine plus one million seven hundred eighty-five thousand three hundred and two" While playing popcorn math I was running the numbers.

Third grade. You start getting more homework. "Can you solve this for me?" they say, and I did it every time. I was running the numbers.

Fourth grade. Seen as more of a spectacle by now. "Her brain just works differently," the teacher announced to my classmates. They'd give me a problem and I was running the numbers.

Fifth grade. It started to change. They said I was good, but not enough according to my standards. I couldn't take it- I wanted to be more so I was running the numbers.

Sixth grade. Homeschool will do you in. Seventh, eighth, maybe ninth-grade math. I was freaking out but still, I was running the numbers.

Seventh grade. Suicide, shitty teachers, Covid. Virtual Pre-Algebra was such a wonderful sight. I was still running the numbers.

Eighth Grade, Public school, Algebra 1. Honors classes, GPA. I was doing others' Aleks, so I was running the numbers,

Ninth grade. Honors geometry in ninth grade. Doing honors geometry at 13. Trying to push myself, get further ahead, I constantly was running the numbers.

Summer before tenth grade. Doing 5 lessons a day, Learning Algebra 2 to get ahead, to move on to PreCalculus. I was running the numbers.

Planning to go to the Governor’s School, planning to graduate early planning to be Valedictorian. Planning for college planning to be a doctor.

Constantly planning, wanting to be more, needing more. I burn out, want to never move from the couch, to quit I get on a roll, running the numbers Oh, I long for one minute to be a normal person, not need more, to not be running the numbers.

[burnout-prevention]

Spent 6 hours in my school cafeteria working on college application related stuff with my counselors. But we had recess and pizza so it was a win in my book!

[indizombie]

Children living in poverty are less likely to have access to school and drop out sooner, according to the report. They also are less represented in higher levels of education, which receive much higher public education spending per capita. These children are also more likely to live in remote and rural areas that are generally underserved. Even before the COVID-19 pandemic, education systems across the world were largely failing children, UNICEF said, with hundreds of millions of students attending school but not grasping basic reading and mathematics skills.

‘Poorest learners benefit the least from public education: UNICEF’, UN News

[persevereforahappyending]

A Legacies Secret |3|

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Reader

Summary: You just wanted a happy life with your girlfriend but then Ghostface attacks, revealing long thought to be buried family secrets.

Warnings: Talks of injuries

Word Count: 3.7k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15

“Run away with me?” you asked, staring into Tara’s eyes as she leaned in for a kiss.

“No,” Tara giggled, playfully shoving you.

“Why not?” you sighed, flopping back onto Tara’s bed.

“Cause I don’t want to be a high school drop out?” Tara draped herself over you, looking down at you with a loving smile.

“Ugh, fine, I guess that’s reasonable,” you grumbled, pouting up at her as you ran a hand through her hair.

Tara sucked in a breath, instantly wincing in pain, her hand went to her stomach, but she quickly pulled it away when the pain worsened. She tried to push herself up but quickly lowered herself back down when every movement sent waves of pain through her entire body. She blinked, trying to get her eyes to adjust to the unfamiliar lighting. She looked around seeing blank white walls, a thin white sheet over her, and a hospital bed. She scrunched her eyebrows, trying to remember what happened, she reached up feeling an oxygen tube around her nose.

She got flashes of bleeding out on the floor, a knife through her hand. She looked down to see her left hand bandaged up. She closed her eyes, feeling her leg snap, she winced at just the memory. When she opened her eyes again, she noticed the large black boot on her right leg. Then she saw it, the white mask, black cloak, she remembered getting the call, it had been Ghostface. Her heart rate picked up again, she ignored the pain as she pushed herself further up on the pillow. She whipped her head around, her eyes darting all over the room, only stopping when they landed on your sleeping figure.

She couldn’t help but give a small smile at you. Tears pricked the edge of her eyes as the attack fully came back to her. The only comfort she had was seeing you by her side, safe and sound. Part of her felt bad but the other part of her wanted to laugh at your position. You were curled up, one leg hanging off the chair, the other draped over the armrest, and the top half of your body curled in, so your head was resting on the back of the chair.

She relaxed back into the pillow, her heartbeat slowing back down. She never took her eyes off you though. Her mind went back to the dream she woke up from. It was a memory, it was the last time you spent the night, just two days ago. You always asked Tara to run away with you, ever since she turned eighteen. The two of you had plans to leave when Tara graduated but then she got held back a year, delaying your plans a year. She knew you didn’t mind, truly, but you still always asked to run away. Tara loved it, she loved knowing you wanted to spend the rest of your life with her. Tara just didn’t want to be a dropout before she ran away with you.

Tara laid her head on her pillow, just staring at you, you always looked so peaceful sleeping, even in a very uncomfortable position. You suddenly shot up, bracing yourself in the chair so you didn’t fall off. Your eyes instantly went to Tara, your eyes filled with tears as you let out a shaky breath. Tara could only describe the look on your face as one of relief, she had no idea how long she had been out and couldn’t begin to imagine what you had been going through this whole time. If you had been attacked and Tara was the one waiting by your bedside she surely would have been going out of her mind.

“You’re okay,” you sobbed. You were instantly out of the chair and at Tara’s side. You reached up to touch her but hesitated, your hand freezing just as you were about to graze her hair.

Tara gave a small nod, realizing you were terrified of hurting her. “It’s okay,” she rasped out.

Your hand gently caressed her cheek. You leaned in, resting your forehead against hers. Your eyes were pinched shut but tears still managed to spill out of them. Tara let out a shaky breath, trying to contain her own sobs, she reached up with her good hand, resting it on the back of your neck.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered in between sobs. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Tara tightened her grip on you, quietly shushing you. “I’m okay. I’m okay.” She wanted to offer you any comfort she could give, she was making sure you felt her, that you heard her, that you knew she was there, and she was okay.

When you finally pulled away from her you quickly wiped your eyes, sniffling a little. You cleared your throat as you walked across the room, Tara’s heartbeat spiked for a second until she realized you were just going to the sink. Her eyes never left you as you filled a glass with water and instantly went back to her side, you handed her the glass of water and then dragged the chair you had been sleeping in next to her bedside. She took a few sips, the water instantly soothing her dry throat.

Tara looked down at your hand resting on her bed, she could feel your fingers barely grazing her leg through the blanket. She started to move her hand to hold your hand but stopped when she realized her hand was bandaged. She furrowed her brow, opening her mouth to ask you to move to her other side but the words died on her lips when she looked up, seeing your eyes not on her in the moment but on the door. She quickly shut her mouth, she couldn’t help but smile at your determined look, as if you were daring someone to walk through that door.

When you took your eyes off the door and looked back at her, she was still staring at you. You tilted your head, giving her the same soft look you always gave her, it was a complete 180 from the glare you had been giving the door. “What?” you asked softly.

Tara shook her head, blinking away the tears that had started to form. “I love you,” is all she said.

You smiled, for the first time since Tara woke up, you looked like you did any other day. If she didn’t know better, she would say you and her were just sitting on her couch about to watch a movie. “I love you too,” you reached up, brushing a few strands of hair out of her face. “Do you want me to text your friends?”

Tara opened her mouth ready to say yes but stopped. She couldn’t explain why she stopped. She loved her friends; she had known all of them pretty much her entire life. She couldn’t imagine any of them hurting her, couldn’t imagine that any of them would dress up like a psycho and attack her. There was a part of her that told her not to trust anyone though. Tara might not have remembered Stab too well, but she knew the story of the original Ghostface killings, Sidney’s boyfriend had been the killer, she had trusted him, and he ended up being the one to attack her and kill her friends. The truth was, anyone could be a killer.

The only person she didn’t doubt for a second was you. Maybe it was stupid and naïve but there wasn’t a doubt in her mind about you, she knew you’d never hurt her. And if anyone ever asked her about it, she’d say that you sitting there by her bedside completely guilt ridden over just not being there was proof enough. She saw you beating yourself up, blaming yourself, and it was all for something you had nothing to do with, for something couldn’t have controlled or prevented. As much as Tara had wanted you to come over that night, she was now glad you had work, she would never have forgiven herself if you had been there and you had gotten hurt trying to protect her.

“Not yet,” Tara finally decided on. “I’ll text them later. I’m not ready for all of them. I just want to sit here with you.”

“Okay,” you whispered. You tucked more strands of her hair that had gotten loose behind her ear. You didn’t even question Tara’s decision to not contact her friends yet, not that she ever thought you’d question her wanting to spend more alone time with you.

“How are you feeling?” you asked.

Tara looked down at herself, her eyes focusing on the large boot on her foot before trailing up to her hand. She lifted her hand off the bed, turning it over, it was covered in a wrap, but Tara could still see the knife sticking through it. “It hurts,” she said but it came out as more of a whimper.

“Do you want me to get the nurse? Maybe they can give you more drugs or up the dosage?” you were already moving to stand up.

“No.” Tara reached across her body with her good hand but didn’t have to strain herself before you noticed and were sitting back down. “I’m okay.” You didn’t look convinced. “Really, I think no matter what, I’m going to feel it at least a little bit.”

“Okay,” you whispered, dropping your eyes to the floor as you stared intensely at your clasped hands in your lap. “I should have been there,” you whispered. If you weren’t seated so close to Tara, she would have missed it.

“No,” she shook her head. “This isn’t your fault.”

“I should have just left work and come to you when you called.”

“You would have gotten fired.”

“But maybe you wouldn’t have gotten hurt.” You looked up at her, your eyes filled with tears once again. “I’m always there,” your voice cracked. “I should have been there.”

“Stop it,” Tara said, trying to keep her voice determined but it was hard with the tears she felt filling her eyes again as well. “Stop, please, you’re not allowed to blame yourself. I refuse to let you blame yourself. You didn’t cause this, you had nothing to do with this.” You buried your head in your hands but nodded, nonetheless.

After a little while you had turned on the TV and flipped through channels until Tara finally agreed to a channel that was showing some reruns. Tara wanted her laptop so she could watch whatever she wanted but that would mean asking you to go get it and she didn’t want you to leave. Tara watched you out of the side of her eye as you watched the TV, you had moved the side table over and pushed your chair against the bed. You had your arm propped up on the bed, absentmindedly playing with Tara’s hair. You were at an awkward angle and as much as Tara wanted you to, you couldn’t lay in bed next to her with her injuries, so this was the closest the two of you could get for the moment.

There was a long creak as someone opened the door to the hospital room without knocking. Tara’s eyes widened, she sat up in bed, ignoring the pain that shot through her. You were on your feet in seconds, glaring at the door, ready to attack whoever was entering.

Tara relaxed when she saw sheriff Hicks walk through the door, her eyes glued to her notepad. You were still tense, slowly relaxing as Judy put down her notepad and looked up at the two of you. Her mouth hung open, a greeting at the tip of her tongue, her eyes went from Tara, to you, to the door behind her, and back to Tara.

“I’m sorry!” Judy said sincerely. “I should have knocked. I was so caught up finishing up my notes,” she looked down at her notepad, flipping through pages as she rambled. “I didn’t mean to scare you,” Judy looked back up at Tara. “There is an officer right outside your room,” she pointed back to the door. “No one is getting in here unless they’re authorized.”

“Thank you,” Tara whispered. She flicked a glance at you to see you slowly lowering yourself back into the chair. “Sorry, we’re just a little jumpy after…”

“You don’t need to explain,” Judy said softly, walking up to the side of the bed. She reached down, grabbed Tara’s hand, and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I’m glad to see you awake.” Judy gave her a soft smile.

Judy was one of a kind, she was a little embarrassing at times and Tara and Amber certainly loved to pick on Wes in a loving way because of it. Judy was the most loving parent around though, the only other parent that seemed to love her kids as much as Judy loved Wes was Mindy and Chad’s mom. Whenever the kids went over to Judy’s house, even now as teenagers, she always made baked goods before she left for work or as soon as she got back.

Tara knew her sister got into a lot of trouble with Judy, Tara was glad Judy never held Sam’s actions against her though. Judy wasn’t a fan of Tara’s mother either, Tara always tried to hide her home issues, but Judy always seemed to know. There were so many times after Sam left and their mom got drunk or went away on long business trips that Judy insisted Tara spend the night and she always made sure Tara never went hungry, whether it was inviting her over for dinner or dropping by with a casserole or something she insisted she had so much fun making dinner she just had to make a second one. Judy never drew attention to what she was doing, she never pressed Tara to talk about it, the few times she did Tara had shut down completely, after that Judy settled for silently helping anyway she could.

Judy also wasn’t the biggest fan of you. She never directly came out and said anything, she knew deep down she didn’t have any right, but there were little comments here and there when Tara started dating you. Judy would always give a tight-lipped smile and her voice went even higher than usual when you were around or when Tara and yours relationship was brought up. When Tara first told Wes she had kissed you, Judy had overheard and made a comment about you being too old for her. Tara had just rolled her eyes saying you were only two years older, technically closer to three, but Tara wasn’t going to get into that with Judy. Judy had dropped it, but it was always obvious she didn’t approve of your relationship.

“I was wondering if you were up for answering some questions?” Judy asked softly.

“She just woke up,” you snapped. “Shouldn’t you be, I don’t know, trying to catch the psycho that did this?”

You were glaring at Judy, but she just gave you a sympathetic look. “That’s what I’m trying to do,” she said softly. “If you aren’t up for it, I can come back,” Judy looked at Tara.

Tara wanted to tell Judy she was tired and to come back later, she had no desire to relive what happened to her. She didn’t think she’d want to relive it later in the day or the next day either so she might as well just get it over with.

“Can Y/N stay?” Tara asked, looking at you. You smiled softly, resting a hand on her arm as you lightly rubbed it.

“Of course,” Judy answered, glancing at you before pulling up a chair of her own. She was near the hospital bed, her back to the door, the perfect spot to look at Tara as they spoke.

“Can you tell me about your night?” Judy asked, flipping open her notepad to a new page. “What you did, anything and everything, just talk, anything can be important.”

Tara nodded, looking at you before she took a deep breath as best as she could. “I was making dinner and called Y/N. They were at work and their boss yelled at them to hang up,” she started.

“What did you talk about?” your eyes flicked to Judy, but you didn’t say anything, you just kept your hand on Tara’s arm, trying to bring her comfort in anyway.

“I was trying to convince her to blow off work,” Tara admitted, blushing lightly. She glanced at you to see a small smile on your own face, but it was quickly shadowed in sadness and guilt. “We talked about graduation, me going to college, us moving out of this town.” Tara shrugged, “Normal stuff.”

Judy nodded, writing a couple things in her notepad. “And after you got off the phone?”

“I was texting Amber, wanted to see if she wanted to watch some movies.” Tara furrowed her brow, shaking her head. “It wasn’t Amber,” she whispered, staring at a spot at the end of the bed. “The phone started ringing.”

“Your phone?” Judy asked but her voice sounded muffled.

Tara shook her head. “Landline,” she said mindlessly. “It was some guy.” She could swear she heard you suck in a breath, but she didn’t turn to look at you. “Said he knew my mom. Figured he was just a new boyfriend,” she shrugged with an eyeroll. “He asked me my favorite movie; I didn’t think anything of it until he specifically started talking to me about Stab.”

“What about it?”

“He asked me if I remembered the opening and then started telling me about the opening kill scene, a girl home alone who answers an unknown number and starts talking to the killer.” Tears slowly started to fill her eyes. “Just like me,” she whispered.

“We can stop if you want,” Judy’s voice came again, this time accompanied by a soft hand resting on her uninjured arm.

“I texted Amber,” Tara continued, shaking her head. “It wasn’t Amber.” She continued shaking her head, the tears slowly began to fall. “He-he-he started quizzing me on Stab.” Tara’s breathing started to become heavy, she was gasping more, the walls were closing in on her. “He-he-he-” she was gasping, her eyes wide as she couldn’t catch her breath.

“Breath,” your voice cut through. Tara tried to focus on your voice, hearing you softly whispering to her. Tara felt a puff of air enter her and she slowly started to be able to breath again. “There you go,” you whispered. Tara’s eyes found yours only to see you standing up, one hand resting on her shoulder while the other held her inhaler to her mouth.

“Thanks,” she whispered, taking the inhaler from you with her good hand.

You let out a shaky breath and slowly lowered yourself back down into your chair. Tara blinked a few times, taking another hit of her inhaler before she set it down at her side, making sure to keep her fingers around it.

“Why don’t we stop for now,” Judy said as she began to stand up from her chair.

“No,” Tara said, giving Judy a determined look. “No, I can do this.” Judy looked from Tara to you then back to Tara before slowly lowering herself back down. “I got a question wrong, and he said he was going to kill Amber. I ran to the door, intending to help her but he was there,” she continued, jumping back right where she left off.

“That’s how he got in?”

Tara shook her head. “No, I got the door closed and locked it. I made sure the system was armed when I called the police but…” Tara’s eyes went wide, the little robotic voice going back and forth saying armed and disarmed filling her mind.

“What?” you asked softly, giving her shoulder a comforting squeeze.

Tara turned to you, focusing on your red rimmed eyes, full of nothing but love and concern for her. “He disarmed the system.”

“What?” your face went white.

“We went back and forth. As soon as I armed the system, he would disarm it. He could have gotten in at any time,” she sobbed. “He just wanted to fuck with me!”

Tara was sobbing uncontrollably but you were sitting at her bedside in a second, wrapping your arms around her, making sure to be mindful of her injuries. Tara didn’t care about her injuries, she buried her head in your neck, throwing both her arms around you and pulled you as tightly as she could against herself.

“Sorry,” Tara mumbled, wiping her eyes once she pulled away from you.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Judy said, standing up from her chair again. She looked over her notepad before flipping it closed and tucking it back in her pocket. “I think we’re good. Thank you.” She gave Tara a pat on the arm before leaving, quietly shutting the door behind her.

Tara reached for her phone, opening her messages but her thumb hovered over Amber’s name. “What’s wrong?” you asked, looking at her with worry.

“Amber’s phone was cloned, I can���t know if I’m texting her when I text her,” Tara answered. She scrolled a little further down, selecting Wes’s name. She shot Wes a quick text saying she was awake. Judy was a professional, but Tara was sure Wes had heard about the attack and was just waiting to hear from her or to question his mom.

Not a second later her phone buzzed, showing Wes had already messaged back. “Wes and the others are on their way,” she said.

You nodded, before scooting your chair up further so you could rest your arm around her head. Tara leaned into you, relaxing as you gently played with her hair. She tried to focus on the TV again as she waited for her friends to arrive. Her mind was plagued by who she could trust, why she was targeted, which of her friends potentially did this to her. Whoever did this knew her alarm system, they were either very skilled with technology and could hack into her system or this was someone she trusted.

[sunboki]

— TEASER

You and Han Jisung are the ultimate best friends. While he’s busy nerding away, you’re filling him in on the latest and greatest drama. That’s until he brings up crushes. And I mean, what’re you supposed to say when he asks you that? It’s not like Jisung’s your crush… right?

📓 » Han Jisung x f. reader

GENRE┊non idol au, friends to lovers, (kinda) enemies to lovers, two idiots being oblivious, fake relationship au, highschool au, angst, fluff, slowburn

WORD COUNT┊estimated to be around 5k-6k words

WARNINGS┊profanity, lack of communication, childish pettiness, stupidity at insane levels

AUG’S NOTES┊if you don’t have a date this valentines, just know we’re both in the same boat ☹️ hopefully some hanji will help!!

THE BOYFRIEND STATUS TAGLIST — OPEN

The first night of your downfall all started in mid-January.

All was well and had been going well, until it wasn’t.

You’ve known Han Jisung since second grade, starting with having to apologize for knocking over his castle and him proceeding to cry even louder in the sandbox, snotty in his red and white striped shirt.

You swear that shirt is still in his closet.

And when he was wimping away in a corner, you were the one that got him out of his shell. To this day you’re convinced you’re the first person to ever witness the true Han Jisung, who starts slapping things when he laughs really hard, who gets overly competitive during board games, who keeps hundreds of mind-blowing tracks he’s produced to himself, and who (you wouldn’t admit it) has one of the prettiest smiles in the world.

Freshman year of high school you met Jisung again in your Geography class.

Initially, it took you a moment to recognize his face, having changed quite a bit over the years. And certainly not a bad kind of change. Although, his nerdy personality was all the assurance you needed to figure out it was him, apart from that he switched to contacts, grew his hair out more, and looked, y’know, “older.”

Older as in: what happened to you? ..Why are you so attractive?

But you won’t get too far into that.

Through the years he tutored you. Jisung had a knack for studying since day one, and despite occasionally looking like he could pass as a dropout (usually the week before finals), no one else could maintain better grades than him.

So, on a night both you and Jisung were slouched over your desk, procrastinating school work by rating people at school from most to least kissable, he turns to you, face halfway illuminated by your lamp.

“Do you like anyone?” Your boba-eyed friend asks while you aimlessly scroll through your camera roll in search of the photo you’d been talking about, mumbling a quiet “of course” in response.

Jisung makes an unconvinced noise and clasps his hands together, leaning forward.

“No like, like like anybody.”

Finally escaping your ‘rating people’s kissing-capabilities’ headspace and now entering into your ‘is this the question i think it is?’ one, you wipe your sweaty palms on your jeans.

It’s a strange question, not a Jisung-question, and you find yourself growing increasingly nervous the longer he stares at you.

You’ve never even thought about it really, so why are you so sweaty? Why does your heart feel as if it may just beat out of your chest, why is your mouth so dry?

Questions.

Clearing your throat and secretly praying it didn’t give away your piling anxiety, you feign a roll of your eyes, tapping your fingernail on the cool desk.

God, why are you so nervous?

“Um, nobody, why?” You retort, ignoring the scrutinizing squint of his eyes watching you.

It’s never like this. You’re the one that teases, gets him all shy, stumbling over his words. So now you suddenly feel like Jerry and he’s Tom.

Abnormal.

“C’mon, there has to be someone you think is cute,” He whines, and before you can stop it one word smacks you upside the head.

You.

“It’s Minho!” You shout, hurried and barely audible as if trying to tune out your inner panic.

Han looks stunned.

Han as in best friend, not crush. Right.

What were you thinking?

“..Min.. Minho?” He phrases slowly, evidently surprised.

Being completely honest, you’re just as surprised as he is. Minho is attractive, sure, but never in your life did you consider him like that.

Oh how you wished you could erase all of this from ever happening.

It doesn’t make sense. Because it’s not like you’re into Jisung. Or are you?

Nope. Nuh-uh. You were just caught off guard and unprepared. Not to mention it was an unexpected question, that’s all.

Fuck.

You like Jisung. There’s no point of lying to yourself anymore. From the start of seeing him again, those “friendly” gestures weren’t friendly anymore, they were intentional, pursuing. Walking from class to class together, constantly checking your texts, meeting his eyes only to smile like fools.

“Yep. Minho. That’s the guy,” Cutting each sentence shorter than the last, you nod fervently, avoiding his gaze.

Both soaking in utterly hellish silence, the tension was likely seeping through the cracks in your door at this rate.

He really shouldn’t have ever brought this up, and you shouldn’t have said Minho. So on the bright side, at least you’re both at fault here in the grand scheme of things.

“..Alright then.” He shrugs and goes back to writing down notes, ignoring how the room feels a hundred degrees hotter and that every inch of your soul is drenched in a cold sweat, plagued with the situation you landed yourself in.

What has gotten into you?

sunboki, may 2022 ©

[percabetn]

i have no idea how i managed to study all that in 1 afternoon but i did it 💪 i have a headache now but idc it’ll go away

i feel like annabeth rn with all these pages to study about architecture

[countdown-if]

"Countdown" is a slice-of-life inspired by "Gilmore Girls," and is rated 18+.

Three months ago, life took a sharp turn. Your mother found herself entangled in a situation so bad, she couldn't dig her way out of it, like usual. This time, the hole was way too deep. She needed help, and the only people capable of aiding her were the same ones she had vowed never to allow back into her life, let alone introduce to you and your younger sibling.

Who were they?

Your grandparents—a powerful and well-established duo.

In short, they did manage to help your mother back on her feet, but not without strings attached—never without strings.

Now, you're facing a senior year in a private school, fully funded by none other than grandma and grandpa, dearest. The only task at hand: do what your mother couldn't—graduate.

Form relationships, pursue your passions, burn bridges etc.,—the decision is entirely up to you.

🍁 Customise your MC (gender, style, personality etc...).

🍁 Choose 1 out of 3 part-time jobs (p.s. 'if you can't stand the heat, get out of the kitchen' and pursue another in your new school!)

🍁 Choose your path. Are you aiming for a top Uni like Harvard next? Or maybe you'll step foot into the world of music? Rumour has it 'Crimson Haze' is looking for a new addition. What will it be?

🍁 Romance 1 out of 6 love interests.

🍁 A lot more in store!

Casey Decker (m/f) 🍁 [profile page]

Your friendship goes way back to the nappy days. With both of your mothers on the younger end of the spectrum, it’s no surprise you grew to be close too—'best friends' type of close.

Casey is a ray of sunshine, full of life, and quite possibly the jelly to your peanut butter. They’re sweet like that—they can be, at least. But best friends should be just that: best friends. Besides, as of recently, Casey is taken.

Appearance: Medium-length, straight, golden blond hair covers the nape of their neck. They have slightly tanned skin, a sprinkle of freckles across their nose and cheeks, and grey eyes.

Lake Aydin (m/f) 🍁 [profile page]

Lake has just started working at the grocery store nearby your house. High-school dropout, you assume. They don’t talk much…to you. Kind of a mystery, that one. Their social media confirms just that—there's not much to go by. 

Also, your first meeting wasn't the greatest or smoothest. But one thing's for sure: you'll be around there a lot, so you might as well get talking in the meantime, right?

Appearance: Dark brown eyes, pale skin, and short, straight black hair for m!L. For f!L, it's medium-length black hair. They wear glasses whenever they remember.

Harry/Hallie Johnson (m/f) 🍁 [profile page]

H doesn't actually go to your school, but events are often organised as a collaboration between a handful of private schools, both of yours included. So yeah, you might see them around.

H is good at all of that—the networking, the galas, the fundraising, and public speaking part. They know what they want, and they have a resume to show for it. H is CC—charismatic and confident. They're who parents wish their kids would bring home, so needless to say, they've got your grandparents' stamp of approval.

Appearance: Deep brown skin, short tightly curled black hair for m!H, and a little longer than shoulder-length, tightly curled black hair for f!H. They have light brown eyes.

Santiago/Samara Garcia (m/f) 🍁 [profile page]

S is an academic with tunnel vision for success. They're consistently at the top of the class, leading the ranks, and on a mission to become valedictorian.

What sets S apart from the majority, you might ask? They're one of the only two people who got into the private school solely based on merit. No mommy's or daddy's money, none of that. It's all about brains and drive.

And what about you? Are you a high achiever? If yes, expect a somewhat healthy rivalry. Heads up, though—S doesn't fail. If no, they'll look down on you, and they won't make any effort to hide that. It's a double-edged sword.

Appearance: They have wavy brunette, borderline black, nearly shoulder-length hair, tan skin, and hazel eyes. They also have three beauty marks: one above their left eyebrow, one right below the left corner of their lip, and one on the tip of their nose.

Riven/Raven Rodrigo (m/f) 🍁 [profile page]

R is destined to be a superstar. Three years ago, R and 3 of their friends formed a band called 'Crimson Haze,' and it seems like all their hard work has finally paid off this summer. They've had a couple of gigs overseas, and they've done really well. They're on their way to major stardom, but first, they need to figure out a few things. Something's missing—perhaps a fifth and final member?

R is a passionate musician, a reckless friend, and a nonchalant lover. Music is their life. However, their love life is...unsteady. They don't do distractions, aka relationships; only fun.

Appearance: They have dyed jet-black hair, short messy waves for m!R, and long messy waves for f!R. They also have amber eyes and olive skin.

Nolan/Naya Brown (m/f) 🍁 [profile page]

N is the star athlete and the school's pride and joy. They have a lot of eyes on them, watching and expecting big things to come. On the court, they're a beast, but in class? Not so much. Their grades are below average, and if they want to keep competing for that full-ride scholarship, they need to bring their grades all the way up.

N is a typical cool and popular kid—playful, funny, and well-liked around the school. Whether they remember it or not, you share a history. You used to know N. FYI, they've been in a committed relationship for the past two and a half years.

Appearance: They have light brown skin in the winter and medium-brown skin in the summer. Their hair is dark brown, with short and loosely curled hair for m!N, and long and loosely curled dark hair for f!N.

DEMO TBA | FORUM

[15-lizards]

The Night’s Watch is just a workplace comedy and I think that’s beautiful. Jon is a teenage manager who’s only working here because Ned wanted him to learn responsibility. Also the company is going under and he has to deal with it also he’s 16 years old. Edd is the suicidal middle aged best friend you make when you’re 16 and working your first job. Grenn is your high school dropout coworker who probably sells drugs on the side but it’s cool cause he’s chill. Pyp is the fucking clown you work with who’s always getting in trouble for goofing off, also he buys drugs from Grenn. Alliser is the guy who’s like 45 and has beef with the teenagers. Jeor was ur boss for a while and the second he left everything started going under. Castle Black is just a rental place in a strip mall. The Night’s Watch is a shitty security company. They have a 32% success rate.

[mapsontheweb]

School dropout rate in India, after completing secondary education.

by themapsdaily

[frozenwolftemplar]

Somehow, the Carmen Sandiego brainrot has taken hold even though I haven't watched an episode in months (no idea how that happened). So, how's about some headcanons? (feel free to play with any or all if they strike your fancy)

-- Carmen's room in headquarters has two wall clocks, one set to San Diego time and one to Ontario because

-- Player has a veritable army of cousins. Carmen never got a straight number because just when she thinks she's got them down, he'll offhandedly mention someone having a baby or something; quite honestly, he can't keep track either.

-- Carmen is nearly hopeless with numbers. Time zones, exchange rates, converting to imperial units when she's in the U.S., she never got the hang of any of it and has learned to just consult Player.

-- "Okay, that guy at the front desk said I'm ten miles from the Grand Canyon. How many-" "Sixteen, Red. Keep an eye out, it's easy to miss." "Very funny."

-- It drove the Faculty absolutely nuts that their 'golden opportunity' is math-stupid; they chalked it up to something she got from her mother's side.

-- It's not. Dexter Wolfe was just *that* good at hiding his dyscalculia.

-- The one math-y thing she can do is card counting, a key component of being an incorrigible cheat at board/card games. Because she will cheat at anything and everything.

-- Seriously, one time Zach and Ivy found an old Candyland game (just lying around the warehouse, don't ask) and Carmen, who had never seen the game in her life, positively trounced them.

-- They just *know* she has to be cheating but can't prove it.

-- Ivy, bewildered, to Carmen's cat-that-got-the-canary face: "How does someone cheat at Candyland?!?" She's just that good.

-- Whenever Shadowsan plays her in cards, it takes all of two minutes for the game to devolve from 'whatever they were supposed to be playing' to 'who's better at sleight of hand.' Not that he condones cheating, mind, but if Carmen's going to, well, he's not just going to let her get away with that.

-- Carmen as a kid was a very picky eater (her adventurous spirit not extending to the culinary world); the Faculty was as helpful as you'd expect.

-- "Dammit, Saira, I told you to quit trying to feed her that rice!" "Well I need someone to taste test-" (absolutely no sense of taste on Saira; lab accident, we don't talk about it) "-and you certainly haven't volunteered. Besides, this newest formula is fortified with three essential vitamins and minerals (at least, I think they're essential), which is more than those sweets you keep plying her with." "At least she eats those!"

-- Ivy and Zach are high school dropouts, figuring they could get ahead better with racing than with academics. As part of joining ACME they get their GED's (since they require *at least* a high school diploma) and the whole team (plus Chase and Julia) help out and are so proud when they pass.

-- The first thing Carmen always does in the morning, something that doesn't change post-series, is call Player. It's also the last thing she does before turning in at night. She can't imagine being any other way, and neither can he. (crud, they're just the bestest friends, I love them so much)

[randomnoteforfuturereference]

Anyone know what's the average retention rate for a college hockey team? Ie how many kids who start their school on the team actually stick around for the rest of the year, much less all the way to graduation?

One of the jokes from the very beginning of the comic was how SMH is a full-sized hockey team, but nobody or so pays attention to the 18 or so other players who aren't on main.

And it's lampshaded some more in the shot where Dex glances suspiciously at his teammates:

There's also this Y1/Y4 juxtaposition concerning the class of '17.

Now naturally having just the named characters in the shot has the function of keeping the narrative tighter and panel uncluttered. And in-universe, there are differing levels of involvement within the team (eg the Frogs didn't join the O6 on the rooftop).

However it does raise the hilarious possibility that, despite the claims of ~18 other players*, SMH is a ridiculously tiny team with a high dropout rate and lots of empty cubbies.

*If we use the Haus tours as a benchmark of how many frogs join the team (5 kids during Bitty’s first year and 6 kids for the Tadpoles), the gross upper boundary of the team would be at around 20-24 (irl ECHC hockey rosters tend to range 24-30).

[yellowcry]

School in Encanto!

You all know it's time to headcanon!

The education in Encanto isn't essentially great. As it found by the bunch of refugees without good supplies.

Kids up to one-two years gap in age sometimes can be put in the same class. It mostly depends on how many children were born during this year. If there's just a few, they would be put with another class to save up space and people to educate them. It was especially evident in the early years. As for the first ten years or so childbirth had really low rate until the village had actually set.

In the opposite side, if too many kids were born in one year and class doesn't have enough supplie for them all, the eldest can be sometimes put into the older group, or yongest of generation can be put into younger.

Boys and gurls tend to be put in the opposite sides of the classroom.

The school does learn the basic of Arithmetics, Spanish. For History kids for the more part focused on learning about Latin America and Colombia specifically. Same goes for geography, which is hugely focused on Encanto as well. They do learn about other parts of the world too, but it's often shallow and doesn't get much attention. As living in a closed village with no exiting way out makes information about other climat types and geography relatively useless aside from general development.

For the bigger part, Encanto school is focused on practical skills for everyday use. Sewing, cooking, how to fix broken things or take care of the animals. It doesn't come to the professional level, but is solely enough to survive on their own even if their parents don't teach them anything (which they almost always do) as these are somethings you need to survive.

In general, school isn't obligatory, but is heavily encorauged to get your kids into. If for some reason kid doesn't go at school, they would be visited from time to time. To check their intellectual development. If it turns out they lack some basic knowledge, such as arithmetics, Latin America geography or a proper level of Spanish (and most others) they will be forced to visit classes.

A good shred of Catholic education too. Both at school and after Sunday service. Religion had important role in the time. And even outside from classes focused of in it, most time different aspects of reality are explained with Bible perspective.

Madrigal specifics headcanons

Gifted Madrigals are allowed to skip school when it comes to using their gifts to help the community. They are technically requested to complete tasks later. But most people just let them slide.

Isabela probably wasn't the best student in her time. Not essentially bad, but she was much interested in more stuff. Plus the pressure as the first born grandkid and the pretty Madrigal. Alma took her out of school in the last years to focus Isabela primarly on her future role as the leader of Encanto. Which Isabela was surprisingly good at, as she's a very natural leader. Also, Isabela sucks with deadlines. Hugely because of pressure to he perfect. She spends a tupid amount of time making a perfect cover/beginning and at the night before the dew day realises the has about two million more pages to write.

Dolores is far better than Isabela. More patient and reversed. And Dolores in generally smart. Her hearing also helps her with being observant of what the teacher is saying. However she definitely ruined lections several times. Just because she heard something interesting and couldn't keep her mouth shut about it. When Isabela left, Dolores pretty much stopped visiting most of lections/non-practical classes. However she still listened to them and kept the notes that she showed to her teacher so nobody concinderedered her as dropout. And if Dolores thinks today's topic is extremely interesting, it would be completely normal to see her sneaking in at the middle of lecture like there's nothing wrong with it.

Luisa is coming closer to Isabela. Pretty restless and prefers physical activity. Also you do know who would have the most chores to skip school. No, of course she wasn't absent completely, but it happened more often than with the other kids. But if Luisa locks in then she locks in and you will never pull her off the books. Also as complete opposite of her sister, Luisa is always going her homework exactly the same day. Workaholism doesn't like when she slacks off her responsibilities.

Camilo is extremely outgoing/social. Is definitely the type that comes in school to talk with his friends. And then it depends on who is in today and who is not. Also pretty restless but in more outgoing way than Luisa. Likes chatting a lot and definitely interrupts teacher a lot by accident. Would extremely take his sister/older cousins old assigments and copy them. He's honestly not a big fan of school so well.

Mirabel is considered the most talented student among the grandkids. Which she usually dismisses as not a big achievement, feels that because she never has to miss anything to help the communituy she will be privileged here. She really overdoes it to make up for the lack of gift she has, tends.to perfectionism the same way Isabela was. Only that Mirabel actually spends her time correctly and it's all decent and not rushed everywhere. Plus, Mirabel is very observant and patient, which also makes her get many clues and understand the pattern of the things she learns simular to Dolores. Secretly enjoys when teachers are praising her as it's one of the little amount of attention she gets, especially being noticed by someone outside of her family.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I re-read your Fellow Honest study, and one thing to mention is that Riddle is immensely proud of having no one drop out or transfer out of Heartslabyul/NRC, right? His dorm is the only one at full capacity? This means dropping out of NRC isn't that uncommon, whether it's a money issue or a grades issue, and that's more people discarded simply because they couldn't keep up.

[Referencing this analysis!]

Mmm, that's true 🤔 I wonder how NRC's dropout rates compare to those of other magic schools and regular schools that do not train mages... I can't imagine that NRC has a ton of dropouts though, because otherwise I feel like more dorm leaders and staff would express concern about it? Like if a ton of students were dropping out, it would reflect poorly on their leadership and teaching skills, wouldn't it...? Maybe it's not mentioned because it isn't that relevant to the main story or Riddle in particular is super fixated on it (given how strict he is). At the very least, we know that NRC has a non-zero dropout rate. Even at a school that supposedly has the best and brightest mages-in-training, some will not make the cut.

As cruel as this may sound (sorry, Fellow), it's 100% understandable from a school's perspective why they wouldn't want to keep supporting students who continuously do not succeed and ultimately dismiss them. Many programs irl (especially those in higher education) set standards that students must meet and maintain until graduation if they want to remain in their program. It could harm the school's educational reputation if they do not produce "results".

In some cases, schools that fail to maintain a certain "pass" rate on specialized exams their students take may lose accreditation (an official “quality seal”) for their program(s). For example, irl nursing programs in the U.S. and Canada are put on probation if they have a class of students with an 80% or lower passing score on the NCLEX exam. They are given 2 years to "fix" this low passing rate; if this is not corrected, then the school's accreditation is revoked completely. A loss of accreditation can result in many other negatives, such as less financial aid dispersement and fewer job opportunities (/your diploma not being seen as “legitimate”).

That's unfortunately how it works. Granted, a school shouldn’t spite a student for not being able to keep up with the workload (which sadly may have been the reality for Fellow), but it really is in the institutions’ best interests to drop a student they fear won’t perform well.