#I have to work on sonnets for school and I hate sonnets

[madebycloud]

pt 3 | Not Even at All

jinx/powder x female reader — 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬⠀𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

summary: vi is off limits until her sister gets a date that doesn't end within the first ten minutes. eager to date vi, a certain girl approaches you with a proposal. date jinx. win her over. and for your efforts, she's willing to be generous. (10 Things I Hate About You AU) warnings/themes: fluff and slight angst, kinda enemies to what, one sided fake dating, highschool, modern au, kat!jinx, patrick!reader words: 7.5k notes: took this long enough bcz uni sucks — ✩ part one, part two, part three, part four, part five

Jinx storms into her classroom, slamming the door shut behind her.

She's only been inside for a few seconds when one shithead student leans back, sneering. “Jinx, me lady, you sway to the rhythm of me heart,” he mocks, his friends laughing along.

Another adds, “Yeah, give us a private performance, babe!”

Another one shouts from across the row, “How much for a personal dance, cowgirl?”

Some asshole from the party filmed her drunken dance and uploaded it, and now she's the hot topic around school.

“Piss off, dipshits,” she mutters, dropping her backpack on her desk and throwing herself into her chair.

Mr. Salo walks into the class, a stack of papers in his hand. “How was everyone's weekend?” He set the papers down on his desk.

One of the boys pipes up, his friends snickering as they elbow him in the ribs. “Maybe we should ask Jinx.”

Before Jinx can respond, Mr. Salo cuts in, “Unless she kicked the crap out of your butt, I don't want to hear about it.”

—

You shuffle into the classroom late as usual, trying to ignore the way Mr. Salo's eye twitches as you drop into your desk. Immediately you glance over to where Jinx usually sits.

Jinx lifts her head, her eyes shifting across the room. At the whiteboard. At the ceiling. At her textbook. Anywhere but you.

“We're continuing our lesson today,” Mr. Salo announces, grabbing your attention. “Open your books to page seventy-three, and we'll get started.”

You rummage through your backpack, shoving your textbooks and notes and empty crisp packets out of the way. You manage to wrangle out the battered copy of the textbook. 

Mr. Salo clears his throat, addressing the class. “We'll be doing something a little different today. I want you all to write your own version of Shakespeare's Sonnet 141.”

Groans echo across the classroom.

You don't really blame them—doing it like this on Monday? not only that, it's english class. Nobody in this room can be bothered to do any work right now, least of all thinking of a way to make an assignment interesting.

“As you work on your assignments,” Mr. Salo continues, “remember this is meant to be a creative, expressive project. I expect everyone to think outside the box for this one.”

Creative and expressive? What could be so creative and expressive about an old ass Shakespeare sonnet.

While the rest of the class starts writing, you open the assigned page and squint at the poem, silently reading it to yourself.

In faith, I do not love thee with mine eyes. For they in thee a thousand errors note.

How in the hell are you supposed to come up with anything creative for something like this?

But 'tis my heart that loves what they despise.

You read out the next line, drumming your fingers against the edge of your desk.

Who, in despite of view, are pleas'd to dote.

This whole assignment seems like a bunch of pretentious bullshit.

—

“You actually went to the party?” Lux asks, eyeing the menu on the counter. “I thought we were officially opposed to suburban social activity.”

Jinx gives a half-shrug. “I didn't have much of a choice.”

“You didn't have a choice,” Lux repeats mockingly. “What'd they hold you at gunpoint or what?”

Jinx cringes, avoiding Lux's gaze. “I did Vi a favor, and it backfired.”

Lux's eyes widen. “You didn’t…”

“I got drunk. I puked. I got rejected. It was big fun.”

—

You enter the diner, making your way towards the counter to order.

Wait a damn minute.

Is that Jinx?

You smirk, approaching Jinx. “Hey,” you greet, lifting a hand.

Jinx doesn't reply. She shoves a handful of items into her backpack, not even sparing you a glance before she takes off out the door. 

You furrow your brow, turning back to look at her friend (Lux, you think her name is?), who just shrugs apologetically before following Jinx out the door.

You stand in the diner for a solid ten seconds.

What the hell?

Did she just... ignore you like that?

You blink a couple times, staring at the door Jinx just walked out of.

Just what the hell?

—

You sit on the bleachers watching the girls soccer team practice. You spot Jinx kicking the ball around with a few of her teammates.

“What'd you do to her?” Cait asks on the other end.

“I don't know,” is your honest answer. A pause. “I decided not to take advantage of her.”

“You realize that pretty much ruins our deal, right?”

“Yeah, no kidding," you reply. “She won't even look at me.”

“Why can't you just tell her you're sorry?"

“Because she's been doing nothing but avoiding me,” you explain. “I'm not sure she even knows I exist anymore.”

“Of course she knows. It's not like she doesn't remember who you are,” Caitlyn points out. “Did you at least apologize?”

“No.”

“And why not?”

“Because she'd probably break my nose if I was within a 10-foot radius of her right now,” you retort.

Caitlyn sighs. “You're an idiot.”

“I'm aware.” 

“You need to apologize,” she says. “Soon. Otherwise this entire thing is going to blow up in our faces, and neither of us is going to get anything out of it.”

“She just needs time to cool off,” you say, nodding. “I'll give it a day.”

And suddenly—

THWAP!

A soccer ball goes flying past your head. You flinch so hard you nearly fall off the bleachers. You twist around to see who threw the damn thing.

Jinx.

“...maybe two,” you correct yourself, watching her get back to practice.

You rub your forehead where the ball almost hit you, frowning as you watch her play. You knew she could aim, but holy moly. If that had hit you, it would have probably left a bruise.

Well, at least you know she hasn't completely forgotten who you are. So… progress?

—

Jinx and Lux walk through the courtyard when Jinx sees a flyer for prom taped to the nearby wall. She rips the flyer off the wall, crumpling it in her hands before tossing it to the ground.

A girl next to the wall, who was holding a stack of flyers, let out a gasp. “Hey!” 

Jinx doesn't even glance in her direction as she keeps walking, shaking her head. She turns to Lux. “Can you imagine who would even go to that antiquated mating ritual?”

Lux raises her hand. “I guess I would. But I don't have a date,” she admits.

“Why would you want to go to prom?”

Lux shrugs. “It's the last time we'll all be together as seniors-”

“You really want to get all dolled up so some guy with a cheap Walmart suit and a boner shoved down his pants can grab your ass all night while you're forced to listen to a band that, by definition, sucks?”

“Okay, okay, I guess we won't go. It's not like I have a dress or anything.”

Jinx smirks. “You're looking at this from entirely the wrong perspective. We're not just skipping prom. We're making a statement.”

“Oh, goody. Something new and different for us.”

“We're not some mindless sheep, going through the motions of senior year just because we're expected to-”

“Apart from studying for exams and turning in assignments,” Lux comments.

Jinx shoots her a scowl. “You're ruining my monologue.”

“Sorry,” Lux says, still smiling.

“As I was saying,” Jinx continues. “We're not just skipping prom to sit at home all night... we're making a statement. We're rebels. We're refusing to go through the boring, pointless motions of senior year like the other sheep, like every other senior year before us.”

—

You meet up with Caitlyn, who looks like she's getting just as frustrated and restless as you are with this entire situation. 

Jinx has been refusing to even acknowledge your existence, and it's been a week since she last spoke to you—if you even count a soccer ball being whipped at your head as a form of communication.

And you're not sure you even want to bother anymore. This is stupid.

But Caitlyn is just as persistent and desperate as ever.

“Your school's having prom soon, right?”

“Yeah, why?”

Caitlyn hands you a stack of 200 dollar bills, pushing it into your chest. “Take her to prom.”

”No,” you reply, shoving her hand away. “I don't care, Cait. Can't do this anymore. Its sick-”

“Come on, 300 bucks.”

You push her hand away for the second time. “I thought you wanted out.”

“Yeah, well, things have changed. Vi kissed me,” she says. “We're not together yet.. but I think we're close. The only thing holding Vi back right now is her sister.” Caitlyn pushes the three-hundred dollar bill into your palm and closes your fingers over the money. “That's why I need you to do this now. Come on… help a friend out?”

You look at the money in your palm, then at Caitlyn.

“Fine.”

—

You figure you can't make things much worse than they already are and decide to find Jinx at the record store.

After some searching, you eventually find her standing in the guitar section, admiring an electric guitar. Complete with strap, of course. She fits the headphones over her ears, then sits on one of the stools nearby.

You slip your hands into your pockets, quietly approaching her from behind to talk and—

Wait.

You pause a few feet away, watching her.

Jinx looks… content. Comfortable, at least. Her eyes are closed, and she's slowly bobbing her head to whatever music is playing through the headphones.

You open your mouth to speak, to say sorry and get all this done and over with. But…

No. No. You can't—won't—disturb her when she's comfortable and, dare you even think it... too peaceful. Too calm. You're not going to take that from her.

So you quietly back away, deciding to leave her alone.

—

You wander down the section of vinyl and CDs, scanning the titles on display. You spot Jinx across the way and decide to follow her, ducking your head to watch her walk across the shelf.

Once she turns the corner, you end up right in front of her.

“Excuse me. Have you seen Collide with the Sky? I'm looking for the vinyl.”

She raises an eyebrow. “And what are you doing here?”

“I heard there's a sale going on,” you lie.

“You're so…” she starts, her eyes narrowing.

“Charming?” You cut her off with a grin, only for Jinx to roll her eyes—not amused at all, and walk away. “Wholesome?“

She stops in her tracks, turning to look at you. “Unwelcome.”

You step closer. “You're not as mean as you think you are.”

She looks at you head to toe and scowls. “And you're not as badass as you think you are.”

“OOO,” you drawl. “Someone's still got their panties in a twist.”

“Don't for one minute think you had any effect on my anything, let alone my panties. Moron.”

“Then what did I have an effect on?”

She turns away from you, rifling through the vinyl. “Other than making me want to puke? Nothing.” She shoves one into your hands and pushes past you, knocking you back a step as she storms out of the record store.

You glance down at the vinyl she shoved into your hands. Collide with the Sky.

—

You sit at a table in the cafeteria, typing out a message on your phone and sending it to Caitlyn. “she's still pissed.” You hit send before taking a bite of your lunch.

Almost instantly, you get a notification. Caitlyn reacted to your message with a haha. A message bubble appears, then disappears.

You type out another message. “i can hardly ask her to prom if she's still pissed at me.”

She responds in mere seconds. “I have an idea.”

“what is it?” you type back.

“Sing a romantic song for her.”

“you want me to die that badly?” you reply. “do you really think that will work?”

“Yes.”

You toss your phone to the side, picking at your food again. Singing a romantic song to Jinx? that's ridiculous.

Your phone buzzes again. “Come on. Do it. You've got nothing to lose.”

You pick up your phone and type out a response. “besides my pride, self-respect, and maybe even my life?”

“Stop being a pussy. Just do it. I double dog dare you.”

—

You approach Ekko's locker as he closes it with a slam. You clear your throat and give him a smirk. 

“You again?” he says before turning to look at you. “What do you want now?”

You pause, glancing around the hallway to make sure no other students are within earshot. The coast looks clear, so you turn to face Ekko again. “You lead the marching band, right?” 

“So?”

You hold up a one hundred dollar bill. “Play a song.” You notice his gaze flick back and forth between the stack of cash and your face.

He clenches his jaw but takes the bill nonetheless. “What song?”

—

You look out over the school field as the girls' soccer team and marching band members practice below.

You scan the controls for the school's stadium audio before plucking the cordless microphone off its stand. You find the switch labeled FIELD MIC ANNOUNCE and turn it up.

The mic is on. You hear some feedback when you bring it to your lips. Here goes nothing. 

“You're just too good to be true. Can't take my eyes off of you,” you begin to sing, stepping out through the stadium's audio control room and into the open air. Your voice echoes from the speakers all over the open field. “You'd be like Heaven to touch. I wanna hold you so much. At long last love has arrived…”

The soccer team and the marching band members look up at the sound of your voice. Some of them stop to see where the singing was coming from.

“And I thank God, I'm alive. You're just too good to be true.” You step into view, scanning across the open field and finally spotting Jinx in the crowd.

She's standing in the field with the rest of the soccer team, and she's already looking at you.

“Can't take my eyes off youuuu,” you point directly at her, a huge grin stretching across your face.

With a whistle from Ekko, the marching band takes their cue and starts playing.

The noise catches Jinx's attention, and she turns away from you to look at the band playing. Realizing that something is going on, she glances back and forth between the band and then to you before breaking out into a chuckle.

“I love you, baby, and if it's quite alright. I need you, baby, to warm the lonely night,” you sing, making your way over towards the home bleachers and sitting down on one of the steps. “I love you, baby, trust in me when I sayyy.”

You keep going with your performance, dancing around the bleachers while singing.

The two guards arrive to grab you, but not before the crowd claps to your performance.

You finally break out of their grip and continue singing. You even sneak in a pat on one guard's ass on your way past them, then run away with a huge grin on your face.

—

And, as expected, you end up in detention after that.

The room is quiet, and you rest your head against the surface of the table, closing your eyes.

Mrs. Medarda walks around the room, occasionally glancing around to make sure they're behaving. She stops at the desk next to yours. “You look pretty nervous.”

“Yes, ma'am.” He nods anxiously.

“You're sweating like a pig,” she notes, eyeing the boy.

“Yes, ma'am.”

“Your eyes are all... bloodshot.”

“Yes, m-ma'am,” he stutters.

“You've got pot, don't you?”

The boy pales but reluctantly holds out his hand and places the weed into her open palm.

“I'm confiscating this,” she says, turning around and placing the weed on the front desk.

You hear the creaking sound of the classroom door opening, followed by Jinx's voice. “Coach Medarda…” She clears her throat. “I have some ideas on how we can improve the girls' soccer team.”

Mrs. Medarda turns her head towards Jinx. “Let's talk about it later,” she replies before turning away once again.

Jinx turns to you and whispers loudly, “Window! Now!”

“Window?!” you whisper shout back. The hell does she mean, window?

Mrs. Medarda turns back to Jinx, who gives a nervous laugh. “As you know, we have a huge game against the Noxus High Scorpions upcoming.”

You quickly grab your bag and move to the side of the room without Mrs. Medarda noticing.

Mrs. Medarda begins to turn in your direction, but Jinx grabs her arm to keep her from turning around completely.

“Your bicep is huge! Holy crap!” Jinx exclaims, grabbing Mrs. Medarda's other arm. “The other one's even bigger. Do you take steroids or something? I've heard steroids can really mess you up, like make your-”

“Jinx.” Mrs. Medarda interrupts her.

“Uh, that's not the point.”

“Let's hope not.”

When you make a loud creak, Mrs. Medarda cranes her neck to look at you, but Jinx grabs Mrs. Medarda's arm again to stop her from turning around. 

“So, the point is,” Jinx chimes in, “they beat us every single time. And this year, I think I have a plan to actually win. You see…”

“And what might this plan be?” Mrs. Medarda asks.

You take a glance out the window. It's open, but it's a fair distance down from the second floor. Definitely would not be a pleasant drop. You spot a large tree in front of the window with its branches extended across it. That might work.

“You remember that drill you taught us?” Jinx continues.

“What drill?”

“Misdirection.”

Mrs. Medarda stops and thinks for a minute. “I taught you that?”

“Yep… anyway... that's not what's important right now.” 

Mrs. Medarda tries to turn away once more, but Jinx grabs her chin and spins her head right back.

“Think about it!” Jinx exclaims. “They're looking left, but we're running to the right and scoring points. Boom, we win!”

“Okay, but how do we get them to look left?”

You don't hear the rest of the conversation as you leap forward onto the large tree. You let out a yelp as you land. Just as you settle on one of the branches, a loud BOOM is heard from inside. A few seconds later, the window to the detention room lights up with a shower of multicolored sparks.

—

You watch as Jinx looks around, catching her breath. “She just left!” she pants. “I did all the hard work, and the dickhead left me.”

“Hey, sunshine,” you call down from the tree. “Look up.”

She cranes her head towards the tree, her eyes locking onto you.

“I have to admit, I'm afraid of heights,” you add.

“Oh,” Jinx looks up at the tree, shielding her eyes from the sun. “It's not that bad.”

“How would you know?” you ask, swinging your legs from the high branch you're perched on. “Try looking at it from my angle.”

She scans the branches and points to the one right below. “Put your right foot here-”

“Forget it,” you refuse. “I'm staying right here.”

She scoffs, then glances up at you again. “You want me to climb up there and show you how to get down myself?”

“Maybe.”

She sighs and climbs up the tree until she's right next to you on the branch.

You grin at her, then swing your legs down and hop to the ground, leaving her stuck on the high branch alone. “Catch ya later, sunshine,” you call up.

“You little...! Get back here, you shithead!” She jumps down from the tree and sprints after you.

—

The small, rented pedal boat rocks under your weight as it glides through the water. Jinx is sitting right next to you, both of you laughing as you try to make the boat go faster.

“Frankie Valli?” she asks between giggles.

“I figured it had to be something ridiculously cheesy to win your respect and piss you off.”

She snickers and continues pedaling. “Good call.”

“You are a terrible co-paddler, you know that?” you tease.

“You're the one pushing all the water around.”

“It would go faster if you helped out.”

“I am helping out!” Jinx protests. “I'm keeping the boat from tipping over.”

“More like you're making it tip over,” you counter.

“Hey!” She smacks your leg. “We'd be moving a lot faster if you pedaled, too.”

“You can't hit the coxswain like that!”

“Stop whining and pedal!”

Both of you laugh. “So I gotta ask,” you begin. “How'd you get Medarda to look the other way?”

“I blew up the whole detention room,” Jinx says nonchalantly.

You blink. “You blew it up? with what?”

Jinx shrugs, turning to look at you. “Fireworks.”

“Fireworks. Seriously.”

“Yeah... but they're never gonna find out who did it.”

You're not sure if you should be impressed or terrified. 

You continue to paddle around the sea together. You pause, looking around the sea before looking back at Jinx. “So what's your excuse?”

“Excuse for what?” Jinx asks, eyebrows raised.

“For acting the way you do,” you clarify.

She purses her lips in thought. “I just dislike meeting people's expectations.” She looks off to the side, out to the sea. “Why live up to other people's expectations when I can live the way I want to?”

You ponder her words, thinking over the way her mind works. “So you disappoint them from the start, and then you're covered, right?”

She nods. “Pretty much.”

“Then you screwed up.”

She frowns, her brow wrinkling. “How so?”

“You never disappointed me.”

Jinx turns and meets your gaze. After several seconds, a smile slowly forms on her lips, and soon a chuckle escapes her.

You look away, suddenly finding your shoes much more interesting. You try to fight back a smile of your own.

Your eyes flicker across the coast, spotting a paintball field in the distance. “You up for it?” you ask, nodding towards the field’s direction.

She follows your gaze. “Hell yeah.” 

—

SPLOP

The paintball bursts against your chest, splattering paint all over you. With a smirk, she sticks her tongue out at you.

You tilt your head and take aim. And then, FWUMP. The paintball hits her square in the stomach.

She gasps and grabs her stomach, looking at you in shock. “You asshole!” she yells, giggling. She runs toward one of the obstacles and ducks behind it. She then pops her head out from the obstacle and takes aim at you.

The paintball hits you on the shoulder, adding yet another blue splotch to the paint already decorating your protective clothing.

“Hey!” You quickly chase after her, the two of you running between the obstacles. She turns a corner, and you quickly round the corner after her, only to find… ah hah. There she is, cornered like a rat.

She holds up her hands in surrender, grinning at you. “Caught me.” 

“Yeah,” you reply, stepping closer. “You bet I did.” You sling your arm around her shoulders.

And then, without a second thought…

You smash a paintball against her head, leaving behind a bright blue splatter of paint on her hair.

She squeals and hides behind a nearby obstacle. “No fair!“

But you follow, throwing paintball after paintball, not letting her get away.

She pokes her head out to throw a paintball back at you. It hits you on the chest.

You both laugh as you run around the field, throwing paintball after paintball. You chase her around, she tries to run away, but you're faster. You lunge at her, taking her by surprise. The two of you fall onto a nearby bale of hay, you landing on top of her.

You both throw your protective goggles aside, laughing breathlessly while you both catch your breath.

You look down at Jinx, and…

Her face is flushed and streaked with paint. Her hair is tousled, some strands have fallen out of her braids.

You slowly reach out and cradle her face in your hand, running your thumb across her cheek. “Can I…”

She nods in response. Her eyes flutter shut as you lean in. Your lips meet Jinx's, and it’s…

It's like fireworks. Why does it feel so right?

Her lips are soft, and they taste like cherry lip balm. The fingers on her left hand slowly trail up your arm, making their way up to the back of your neck. The other hand clutches at the fabric of your paint-splattered clothes as she kisses you back, her tongue slipping into your mouth.

Her bangs swing forward, getting in the way of your kiss, causing her to pull away with a groan. You watch her brush her hair to the side and fix it back into place. “Here,” she huffs, pulling you back in with a tug around your neck, “let me try that again.”

You barely manage to get the word “sure” out before her lips are back on yours. Your hand slides up to the back of her head, your fingers slipping between her braids, grabbing a handful of hair, and tilting her head back to deepen the kiss.

It… it feels good. Really good. 

She smiles against your lips, then pulls back, her eyes hooded as she stares up at you.

You lean in to kiss her again when BAM! A paintball suddenly smashes against the side of your head.

What the fuuuck?! “Wha—Hey!” you shout. “You!”

Jinx laughs as she scrambles to her feet and runs off.

“I swear to god I am going to get you back for this,” you curse as you get to your feet.

—

Jinx walks out onto the paintball field, her forehead smeared in bright blue paint. “I think I should cut my hair,” she says, tossing her braided hair over her shoulder.

“Why's that?” You wipe a sweat off your forehead.

Jinx scratches her cheek. “Just kinda thinking about it,” she replies. 

You walk beside Jinx, the paintball field disappearing out of sight behind you. “Why have you got it so long?” You gesture to her braided hair.

“I've had it since I was a kid.” She reaches behind, grabbing one of her braids and resting it under her chin. “Never cut it after I…” Jinx pauses, then shakes her head. “Doesn't matter.”

“After what,” you ask, bumping your shoulder into Jinx's.

She glances back at you and lets go of her braid, letting it fall into place at her back. “Nothing, nothing,” she says, waving her hand.

“Your hair looks fine now. Why do you want to cut it?”

“I dunno... it's getting kinda long, I feel like it's holding me back.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Holding you back from..?”

“From changing.”

“Changing?”

Jinx nods. “Changing,” she repeats. “It's just… a fresh start, I guess.”

You hum, kicking a small rock with your foot as you follow Jinx's lead. “Anything specific you're thinking of?”

—

You stand outside the local hair salon, waiting impatiently for Jinx to come out. Jinx had shooed you out of the salon to wait while she freshened up her “look” as a surprise, or so she said.

Just when you're about to reach for your phone, you suddenly hear a voice behind you. “What do you think?”

You turn around and-

You blink. And blink again.

Wow.

Her long blue braids are now cut to her chin. She wasn't kidding when she said it was a surprise.

Goddamn. She's beautiful.

“Well?” Jinx asks, hands on her hips. “What do you think?”

You gawk at her for a moment too long, completely speechless. How can you even put your thoughts into words?

“It's-” your mouth feels dry. She looks... different. But the same. “Wow. That's-” Wow. “That's... Wow.” Your eyes scan over her shorter hair, down her face, her arms... everywhere. Everything about her looks just so… damn perfect.

Jinx grins. “You like it?”

Like it? Hell yes, you like it. You nod mutely, still at a loss for words.

“You look like you've been struck dumb,” Jinx jokes. She lightly punches your shoulder, making you stumble backwards a couple of steps. “Seriously, no comments?”

You try to form a sentence, but the only two words that come to mind are “holy” and “shit”.

Jinx laughs at you—either her laughter is adorable as hell, or you're completely losing your mind. Might be both, to be honest.

You quickly regain your wits and manage to regain control of your mouth. “Sorry,” you reply, sheepish. “You just... look really good. And the haircut… it's really-” You pause to gesture vaguely at her hair before continuing. “You look... different.”

“In a good way?”

Your ears grow hot. “In a good way.”

“I thought so.” Jinx slings her arm through yours. “Soooo,” she drawls, looking at you sideways, “about this massive collection of 2,000 CDs you have…”

Fuck. You forgot about that.

“I wanna see em,” she continues.

“Yeah… about that.” You laugh nervously, rubbing the back of your neck. “I uhh… I mayyyyy have exaggerated a bit?”

—

“What is thiiiisss?”

“It's…” you start, before faltering mid-sentence. “My… grandmother's birthday present.”

She looks at the CD and smiles widely. “No way.” She turns the case to show you the cover. “Madonna? Really?” Jinx looks at the cover in her hands—Celebration. Then she looks back up at you. “Aww,” she coos mockingly. Ugh.

You think back to the many times you've been forced to listen to Madonna songs when visiting your grandmother. Even now you can almost hear Material Girl playing in your mind.

“Ehhh, well, you know how it is,” you say awkwardly. “My grandma loves Madonna, so...” you finish lamely, shoulders lifting in a shrug.

She slowly walks as she looks at a few other items around your room. “You know,” she begins, “when you said you had a massive collection of CDs, I kinda got excited. I was like, maybe she's got a band I don't know. Or some really underground artist only people with good music taste know about. But…” she holds up the CD again. “Madonna? really?”

“It's not like I actually ever listen to this…” you complain, gesturing to the CD.

Jinx smiles and lifts an eyebrow at you.

“Okay, fine. When I'm cleaning my room, I always listen to that CD, but—listen—only to remind me of my grandmother. Not because I actually like it,” you continue.

She snickers, opening the jewel case with a click and removing the CD. When she walks to your stereo, you suddenly realize what she's doing.

“Whoa, hey-!” you start, but Jinx is already inserting the CD into your stereo. You quickly rise to your feet, trying to stop her. “Maybe we should watch a movie or-”

A click echoes as Jinx closes the top of the stereo. A moment later, Madonna's Crazy for You begins playing, and you can feel yourself die inside.

You can imagine your grandparents dancing along to the music, singing along to the lyrics.

“God, no,” you say faintly, watching as Jinx moves to the center of the room and starts to swing her hips.

“Shh, come on!” she calls over her shoulder as she begins dancing. “Live a little!”

Is she drunk? no, she doesn't smell like alcohol, and you didn't see her drink anything. She's not exactly unsteady on her feet, either, her moves are too perfectly timed to the beat.

No, she's a hundred percent sober.

This was simply her.

‘Live a little,’ she says. Live a little.

Jinx is facing away from you, still dancing and moving her hips to the beat, but her head is turned to the side.

She looks… cute like that. Her eyes are closed, her face is upturned toward the ceiling, and she giggles as she dances.

She spins around, facing you at once. “Come on,” she says, a huge grin gracing her lips. She slowly extends her hand, reaching out to take yours in hers. “Dance with me.”

You know what? Screw it. You've come this far.

You may as well embrace the insanity.

She sees the moment you give in, and she takes full advantage of it, using her hand to pull you into the center of the room, where the light from outside is stronger.

She turns the volume up more. Her hands are still around yours, and she keeps them there for a moment before she lets go, leaving you to stand and dance awkwardly.

You have no idea what you're doing.

You're fairly sure your dancing is on par with drunken uncle at a wedding who hasn't been able to find the rhythm since the 80s, and if Jinx has noticed how terrible you are at dancing, she hasn't made any comment.

She just grins.

Despite your dance skill, or lack thereof, you're still dancing with Jinx.

Dancing with Jinx.

With Jinx.

This didn't even seem real.

Your mind starts to drift. You can picture yourself and Jinx, thirty years from now, old and grey, dancing around a family room in your future home.

You think about dancing with her, years from now. You think about growing old with her, dancing together around the room. Holding her hand, even as she's old and wrinkled and grey.

You wonder if your kids or pets or grandkids or whatever-the-fuck-you-have would be watching you two dance like crazy people like you are now. 

You wonder what she'd look like decades from now, and you find yourself surprised at the fact that she'd be just as beautiful. Just as attractive. Maybe even more.

You think about how to make her smile like she's smiling now.

Because that smile is worth a hell of a lot.

You wish you could see that smile more. Every single day, every single night, all you want to do is see her smile.

No, not 'want'

Need.

Wait.

What are you thinking?

You're getting ahead of yourself. Way, way ahead of yourself.

Jinx is still dancing, completely oblivious to the strange direction your thoughts are taking.

But even as you try to focus on the present—on what's happening now—your mind is refusing to cooperate.

Your eyes move on their own, traveling over her.

On her hair. On her face. On her hands. On her hips. On her legs. Her body, silhouetted in the bright light from the outside world.

She grins at you as she does a turn and swings her hips, and you try your best to keep up. She's so… so… herself.

She's not scared. She's not angry. She's not hiding herself behind layers upon layers of sarcasm and anger and hostility.

She's happy.

Jinx is happy. Not just “kind of” happy—fully, completely, unequivocally, truly, honestly happy.

That smile. That laugh. How she's so damn effortlessly herself and how goddamn carefree she is.

And she's so… beautiful.

You've dated girls before. You've had girlfriends before. You know what it's like to get close to someone, to be intimate, to kiss and hold each other in private.

But was it like this?

You've never felt like this before.

Never.

Nothing all-consuming, or overpowering, or soul-destroying, or devastating. There was never an intensity to them. A rush. A drive. There was never a connection, never a feeling of need.

But with Jinx...

This felt completely different. This felt so much more.

Like you were standing in a room with destiny.

Like you'd just seen the face of God.

Like your stomach turned into an entire gymnastics team.

Like your chest started feeling like a furnace.

Like your heart was suddenly playing a beat with a hundred times more BPMs than before.

Is this...

This.

Is this what love feels like?

...

If it's not love, then it's definitely an early sign of a heart attack.

—

You drive to her house. Jinx rolls down the car window, letting the wind blow through her short hair.

The song ‘Chasing Cars’ plays from the car radio.

And of course, Jinx wore one of your jackets. She must've snatched it right out of your closet when you weren't looking.

Not that you mind.

She happily chows down on some cotton candy you'd bought her from the gas station earlier and glances over at you. “I kinda like this,” she says between bites.

“You really like everything, don't you?”

“Who doesn't like sweet, sugary treats?” She holds the cotton candy out towards you. “Want a bite?”

You keep your hands on the wheel as you drive. “I'm good.”

Jinx shrugs and returns to munching on her cotton candy.

The wind is still blowing through her hair, occasionally blowing a few strands into her face, and Jinx keeps pushing them back. She groans, gives up and just lets the wind blow her hair around.

She finishes her cotton candy and crumples the empty paper and tosses it into the cup holder between you two. She leans back in her seat, her head tipped back as she looks at the clouds through the open window. “One day, I'm getting away from here.”

Did she mean away from the city? or away from her life?

“I wanna see the world,” she continues. “See everything.”

“What's stopping you?”

“My sister.” Jinx turns to look at you. “She... she hasn't quite found her place yet. I don't want to leave her on her own.”

“That's kind of you.”

She looks back out the open window. “I guess. When you don't have a lot, you don't want to leave people.”

You turn onto a side street, the car bumping along the bumpy road. “So where do you wanna go, if you could go anywhere?”

“Anywhere.” Jinx's hand sticks out the window, her fingers spread like she's catching the passing clouds. “I have a list of places I want to see.”

The car turns onto another street, and you look away to watch where you're driving. “And what's at the top of that list?"

Jinx's hand slips back in through the window, and she holds up a single finger. “Northern lights.”

“Northern lights,” you repeat.

“Northern lights,” Jinx affirms. “Have you ever seen them?”

You haven't. “Just in movies.”

“They're beautiful, and... I guess I want to see something breathtaking. I want to see something that'll take my breath away, because…”

“Because?”

“I've been feeling kinda... suffocated,” she says finally. “Like... Like there's this... pressure in my chest, a weight on my shoulders.”

You glance at her out of the corner of your eye. She's hunched over in her seat, her hair hiding her face. She's looking down at her hands.

“I just wanna see something that feels... I dunno. Freeing, I guess,” she says slowly. “Something that makes me feel light, like I can breathe without struggling or drowning.” Jinx glances up at the sky again. “Something that makes me feel like I can fly.”

You don't want to pry, so you keep your eyes on the road ahead of you. The car drives out of the city and onto the highway, the road much smoother under the wheels.

Suddenly, Jinx jerks forward and sticks her head out the open window. She holds herself up by grasping onto the edges of the windows, the wind ripping through her hair and clothes as the car gains speed. “YEEEEESSSSSSSS-”

“Wha—what the hell are you doing!?”

“I'M FLYING!” Even though you can't see her face, you can hear the grin in her voice.

“Get back in the car!” 

“NOPE!”

You grip the wheel harder, trying to keep the car steady as Jinx lets one arm out the window. “You think I want to see you get decapitated by a passing semi-truck in the mirror?”

“Do you always think about me getting decapitated on the freeway?”

“It's what you'll end up like if you don't buckle up in the next three seconds!”

“YOLOOOOOOOO-”

“One-”

She leans out the window even further, now her stomach resting on the edge of the window rather than her head and shoulders.

“Two-”

She closes her eyes, a huge grin across her face.

“THREE-”

“OKAY OKAY! I'M DONE, I'M DONE!” She falls back into her seat, laughing as she throws her head back against the headrest. “That was fun!”

You glare at her through the mirror. “You're crazy.”

She scoffs. “I just want to live life to the fullest. Live fast, die young, and leave a pretty corpse.”

“The fuck? That's a bit morbid.”

“That's a lyric from a Social Distortion song, idiot.”

—

The two of you keep yourselves occupied by talking.

You've talked a lot. She has a lot of random and interesting information about a lot of topics that she seems to remember effortlessly. She's like a walking encyclopedia. 

Eventually, the conversation turns to rumors about you two.

You twist the key, turning off the engine, and watch as Jinx steps out of the car and heads up to the front of her house. “None of that is true.” You follow her, shoving your keys into your back pocket.

She chuckles. “I've heard that you've broken several of a teacher's fingers.”

“Rubbish,” you respond, shaking your head. “Kicked out of your last school for setting the chemistry lab on fire?”

“Maybeee.” She grins. “Got it on with a teacher's daughter.”

“Rumor!”

“Mhmmm.”

“That was a rumor!” You throw your hands up in the air.

“Uh-huh.”

“Totally fake.” You groan. “I heard you beat up an entire football team by yourself at your last school.”

“Not entire,” she clarifies, smirking. “Just the quarterback. He started it.”

“Alright,” you say, climbing the steps and stepping onto the porch alongside her.

“I heard you've gotten an entire class to drop out.”

“True.”

“Oh yeah?”

You sigh. “Two years ago,” you clarify. “A couple of assholes decided they were going to prank me every chance they got. I got fed up and paid them a visit in the middle of a math class.”

“How many people?”

“Half the class.”

“God, you're terrible,” she says, “I like you.”

You both settle down on the porch steps, sitting side by side and facing one another. Your knees are touching.

“Tell me something true.”

“Hmm… something true?” you murmur, rubbing your chin. “I hate peas,” you state, glancing over to her with a smirk.

She chuckles. “No, not that. Something real. Like something nobody else knows.”

You nod, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. Your hand trails down to her neck, fingertips brushing against her bare skin.

You press your lips to her neck, just below her jawline. “You're sweet,” you continue, moving to the other side of her neck. “And sexy.” Pulling back, your eyes meet hers. “And completely hot for me.”

Jinx scoffs. “You're wonderfully presumptuous,” she remarks. “Anyone ever told you that?”

“Every day,” you quip. “By myself in the mirror.”

You lean in, pressing your lips against hers. You pull back, foreheads touching, leaving just enough space between you to speak. “Go to the prom with me,” you whisper.

“Is that a request or a command?” she murmurs, bumping your nose with her own.

You rest a hand on her knee. “Come on,” you urge. “Just go with me.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“It's just stupid. Prom is stupid.”

You sigh. “It's not stupid.”

“It really is,” she insists.

You press your lips together, trying to think of something to get her to change her mind. “People won't expect you to go,” you counter, scooting closer to her and bumping your shoulder against hers. “No one will bat an eye.”

She glares at you, leaning away from your touch. “Why are you so hellbent on this?”

“What? I'm not,” you protest with a chuckle, shifting awkwardly. “Come on,” you try, “it's not that big of a deal.”

“But it is to me,” she says. “What's in it for you?”

You scoff in response to her accusation. “So you think I need something to want to be with you?”

“You tell me.”

You turn away, avoiding her gaze. “You need therapy. Did anyone ever suggest therapy for you? Because if not, they should,” you blurt, struggling to maintain composure as your heart thrums in your chest.

“Answer the question,” she snaps, eyes narrowing.

“Nothing!” you exclaim in frustration, turning to face her again. “There's absolutely nothing in it for me, if that's what you want to know. I just-” you pause, catching your breath. “I just want to spend time with you, okay?”

You pull a cigarette from your pocket and raise it to your lips, fumbling with the lighter. Just as you're about to light it, Jinx snatches the cigarette out of your mouth and flicks it to the ground.

She heads towards the front door, and without looking back, slams it shut.

You rub your temples, seething at your own stupidity. You didn't mean to say those things to her—your frustrations were bubbling over, that's all.

You pull yourself up from the porch and kick the abandoned cigarette.

You really shouldn't have agreed to Caitlyn's deal. 

taglist: @axolotl-arsonist, @crvcified-kinx, @axoluxy, @dyslexic-dreamer, @urdeadpoet, @iluvshifting, @shootingc, @freementallyillkid, @tr3nzit444s, @powderbomb-jinxed, @chickennuggetsaresootasty, @multiliker, @rick-grimes-girl, @angelsglitch

[godricgryffinsnore]

Heyyyyyy Della!

I have a request, go on if you want.

Here it goes:

Y/n is a transfer student from any random country/magic school and her and Hermione are immediate friends because of shared traits.

The thing is- Harry and her have a 'I love you but I will pretend I hate you' relationship.

If you actually write it — I am goddamn excited.

Yours,

V ;༊

She Came in Like Thunder ♡ : A Harry Potter Fan Fiction.

pairing : Harry Potter x fem!reader

summary : A fiery transfer student shakes up Hogwarts, instantly bonding with Hermione and clashing with Harry in a whirlwind of witty insults, stolen glances, and unresolved tension. Amid snowy chaos, glittering banter, and accidental confessions, two love-struck idiots slowly realize that maybe “hate” was just their favorite disguise for love.

warnings : Light profanity, Mild magical mischief, Flirty insults / teasing, Excessive pining and fluff, Secondhand embarrassment from two idiots in love, Truth potion chaos, Mentions of blushing, kissing, and heart-thumping feelings. Please let me know if I missed any.

author's note : English is not my first language, so please forgive me for any grammatical errors or spelling errors. Re-blogging is completely fine with me, but please don't copy my work. I love you all. Enjoy <3.

della's note : I was giggling and laughing the entire time when I was plotting out this request. I hope you do enjoy it <3 AND THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING!!!

word count : 0.9k

main master list <3

banners : @fawndollie and @saradika-graphics

Hogwarts had seen its fair share of chaos: trolls in bathrooms, flying cars, Quidditch riots, and Fred and George Weasley’s existence in general. But it was woefully unprepared for you.

You arrived on a rainy Tuesday morning with wind in your coat and fire in your stride, eyes sharp as phoenix flame. A transfer from Castelobruxo, the Brazilian wizarding school nestled in the jungle—where students tamed magical beasts before breakfast and performed wandless magic with the grace of dancers.

You were thunder wrapped in charm.

Hermione Granger liked you immediately.

“She reads three books a week and corrects professors when they misquote theory,” she whispered in awe to Harry at breakfast. “We’re practically soulmates.”

Harry, whose spoon had been halfway to his mouth, dropped it and scowled.

“Brilliant,” he muttered. “Another overachiever. As if one wasn’t enough.”

Ron blinked. “Jealous much?”

“No,” Harry snapped too quickly. “She just… looks like she’d hex someone for sneezing too loudly.”

“She saved Neville from a rogue Bludger yesterday.”

“She also called me ‘Scarboy Supreme’ in the library.”

Hermione hummed. “Yes, but she smiled when she said it.”

And that was the problem.

Because every time you tossed a smug quip Harry’s way, you smiled like a secret. And Harry, poor boy, kept falling for it.

── .✦

You were infuriating.

You hummed while working, corrected his wand grip without asking, and once said, "Your disarming spell is cute. Like a kitten trying to roar."

You left feathers in his inkpot. Charmed his robes to sing Celestina Warbeck when he got too cocky. You always looked too amused, too untouched by his scowls.

And the worst part?

You were brilliant. Better than him in Charms. Equally sharp in Defense. Fast on a broom. And you laughed like the sun got caught in your throat.

Harry couldn’t stand it.

He also couldn’t look away.

── .✦

“She’s annoying.”

“You’re in love with her,” Hermione said simply, not looking up from Advanced Arithmancy.

Harry sputtered. “Excuse me?”

“Anyone with a functioning brain can see it,” she added, underlining a line. “You hate her like a Victorian poet hates the moon—loudly, obsessively, while penning love sonnets behind a curtain.”

Ron choked on his biscuit. “He what?”

“I do not write sonnets!”

“Please,” Hermione said dryly. “You literally wrote ‘Her eyes are like bottled lightning’ in the margins of your Transfiguration notes.”

Harry turned red.

“That was metaphorical!”

“Sure, Potter.”

── .✦

And then came the snowball incident.

It was the first snowfall of December. Students frolicked. Couples kissed under enchanted mistletoe. Hogwarts looked like a greeting card. And you were perched on a bench in the courtyard, scarf draped like you were posing for an autumn fashion catalogue.

Harry was watching you again.

He didn’t mean to. His eyes just gravitated toward you like they were bewitched.

You were reading—of course you were—and twirling your wand in that dangerous way that made boys stupid and girls swoon. He scowled.

You looked up.

Smirked.

And flicked your wand.

BAM—a snowball slapped him directly across the face.

Harry sputtered. You grinned.

“Oh dear,” you said sweetly. “Did I hit something important?”

He stomped over, red-cheeked, snow in his hair. “You are a menace.”

“And you are terrible at ducking.”

“You did that on purpose.”

“I know,” you said, too brightly. “Because I like seeing you flustered.”

Harry opened his mouth. Closed it. Considered his life choices.

And then, before he could talk himself out of it, he flung a snowball at you.

It missed.

You laughed.

God, that laugh.

Harry swore his heart was no longer his own.

── .✦

Later that evening…

“You’re smiling,” Hermione said, her eyes not leaving her book.

“No, I’m not.”

“Snow in your hair. Glitter on your robes. And you’re humming. Harry, be serious.”

Ron nodded solemnly. “Only two people make you this weird: Cho Chang and Butterbeer. And you don’t look sticky.”

Harry buried his face in his arms. “I hate her.”

“You love her.”

“Do not.”

“She called you pretty.”

“She called me a sentient broomstick.”

“She also asked you to walk her to the Owlery.”

Harry groaned. “She made me walk her to the Owlery. Said I had ‘stalker energy’ and might as well make myself useful.”

“And you went.”

“…Shut up.”

── .✦

Confession came by accident.

Well, by accident and a rogue Truth Charm gone wrong during Slughorn’s New Year’s Party.

“Tell us your deepest desire,” Seamus challenged Harry with a giggle, waving the glittering vial.

“Don’t drink that—” Hermione warned.

But it was too late.

Harry, flustered, dramatic, utterly cursed, downed the potion like an idiot.

“I’m in love with her,” he blurted.

The room froze.

“Merlin’s pants,” Ron whispered.

Harry looked horrified. “I mean, I hate her. Violently. With feelings. That live in my chest. Like traitors.”

You—standing nearby—blinked.

Then walked right up to him.

And kissed him.

It was soft. Hot. Terrifying.

Like finally touching fire you’ve stared at too long.

“God,” you whispered. “You’re so slow, Potter.”

“You knew?” he asked, dazed.

“I've been in love with you since you tripped over your shoelaces and called me a 'hex-hazard.'”

Harry smiled.

He was doomed.

He was delighted.

── .✦

The Aftermath

You still called him Scarface. He still charmed your books to hum. But now, there were stolen kisses in hidden alcoves, smirks behind held hands, and whispered “I love you” spoken like dares.

“I still hate you,” he said once, breathless, forehead against yours.

“I hate you more,” you replied, kissing him again.

And somehow, that meant forever.

[meiieiri]

STOLEN MOMENTS WITH THEM [FT. JUJUTSU KAISEN]

❁—CHARACTERS: suguru geto, gojo satoru, nanami kento

warnings: suggestive themes in gojo’s part (bc why not haha), mentions of canon-typical violence

a/n: i’m so sorry for all this tooth-rotting fluff, i’m sad rn so hehe :’>> song inspo: you are in love (taylor swift). am accepting requests/prompts btw, just shoot me a message-

༊*·˚ SUGURU GETO

winter afternoons cooped inside your one bedroom apartment are always special days, commonly consisting of freshly-brewed piping hot tea sitting peacefully on your small living room side table, a good book, and the warmth of a knitted throw blanket. snowflakes fall entrancingly from the sky and make a feather-like landing on the glass windows that peek into your home.

suguru geto was lounging silently on the couch with you, your head on his strong lap as he gently combs his fingers through your hair, a leather bound book in his free hand, his eyes leisurely skimming the yellowed pages trying to make sense of the decadent shakespearean sonnets that liken love to that of honey and flowers. you were just about to fall asleep when suguru’s melodic baritone caresses your ear.

“don’t you think he’s so full of shit?” he asks suddenly. how could one speak with such vulgar words and still make it sound like poetry?

“shakespeare?” you sit up and you readjust yourselves so that you can rest your head on his shoulder, peeking over it to inspect sonnet 55. his arms comes up to pull you closer to him, tucking you into the warmth of his chest in a bid to keep you warm. “i thought you liked his work,” you take the offending book into your hands, scanning through the words.

“i do,” he clarifies, tracing shapes on your shoulder, his cheek resting against the top of your head as he waits for you to finish reading through the passage.

when you look up from the book, you are surprised when his lips abruptly yet softly meet yours in a loving peck. his hand moves to cup your cheek as he deepens the kiss, your lips moving together in a perpetual waltz, your heartbeats in total sync. you thought the kiss would last forever, and you and suguru wouldn’t give a flying fuck, but he pulls away teasingly, his forehead resting against your own, his nose lovingly bumping yours as you both come down from your respective highs.

“not as much as i like you, though.”

you shake your head, rose blush tinting your cheeks, hopelessly in love. he truly was the light of your life, the lighthouse that brings you to safe waters.

༊*·˚ GOJO SATORU

despite the horrors that have long plagued the grounds of jujutsu tech, the school, being tucked away in a remote location deep in tokyo’s forgotten countryside, was actually quite beautiful. the backdrop of the tall cedar-wood and red maple trees in the forest adjacent to the teachers’ dormitories that served as a protective cover from unwanted prying eyes is a particularly wonderful sight and in an autumn evening such as this one, emitted a fresh aroma of sweet cherries and almonds.

“i was wondering where you were,” gojo satoru walks in the teachers lounge just as the electric kettle automatically switches off. he woke up in a panic when he noticed you’d gone missing, your side of the bed having lost all its warmth, indicating you must have been out of bed for a good while now. it didn’t help his nerves to see your bedstand digital clock display the time: 1:58 AM in bright neon green on its screen.

he moves behind you, his strong arms wrapping around your dainty figure as you busy yourself pouring the boiling hot water into the two instant ramen cups you had prepared. “that for me?”

“nope,” you shrug. “it’s for nanami.”

that was obviously a lie — he looks at the label of the ramen cup and scoffs when he sees the indicated flavor: seafood curry, his favorite, now, if that wasn’t enough to convince him, he has to remind himself that his adorable blonde junior hates instant crap like this. but still, you found it endearingly funny to see your husband pouting like some kicked dog when you push past him to bring the two cups over to the nearby dining table. “i’m kidding,” you chortle, beckoning him to join you.

“you meanie,” he sticks out his bottom lip as he follows you to the table. he sits down, his elbows resting on the table as his hands come up to cradle his chin, mirroring the image of a child who’d been told “no” by his parent. “i think i want a divorce now,” he sulks.

you feign guilt, playing along with him. you stand up to take a seat next to him. “i’m sorry, baby,” you tell him. he only responds by pointing to his cheek, silently telling you to “kiss it better” if you really were sincere in your apology. you reach up to place a loving kiss on his cheek and a smile spreads across his lips. “better?” you chuckle when he lets out an amused breath.

having made peace, you move to retrieve your cup of ramen when without warning, he pulls you by the hand, crashing his lips against yours in a passionate kiss, his teeth needily sucking at your bottom lip, the heat of the kiss seemingly warming up the entire room that had been filled with the chill of the autumn night breeze. your arms move to rest on his shoulders, as he effortlessly pulls you into his lap, his hands resting on the small of your back. it’s only when you need to take a steadying breath of air that he breaks the kiss.

“all better,” he winks, the ramen having gone cold, utterly forgotten, as the night peacefully went on.

༊*·˚ NANAMI KENTO

“i knew i should have brought an umbrella,” nanami kento sheepishly rubs the back of his head.

“i’m sorry,” his shoulders slump when a low rumble of a thunderclap suddenly goes off, lightning illuminating the sky in a brilliant glow. the date had gone so well — you visited the best art galleries in tokyo, even saw a performance at one of those cozy hidden gem jazz clubs — kento had thought that his luck would hold out ‘till you got home.

but the universe seems to have decided otherwise. now, here you were taking shelter, stranded under the fiberglass roof of a deserted bus stop’s waiting shed. “kento,” your gentle voice quells the dread in his chest, chipping away at the block of anxiety forming in his throat. “it’s okay,” you scoot over, patting the spot next to you, silently telling him to sit down.

reluctantly, he takes a seat, keeping himself at a reasonable distance from you, thinking that you would, at the very least, be upset at him for this slight mishap. “sorry,” he repeats the apology like a broken record, and a compassionate smile forms on your lips.

you slowly scoot on over next to him, closing the gap between the two of you, your pinky finger reaching for his own, as if you were asking for permission. kento notices the gesture instantly, and takes your hand in his, his thumb rubbing your knuckles comfortingly. “…today was fun, kento,” you tell him, a genuine grin on your face, “seriously. what’s a little rain?”

a burden seems to have been lifted from his shoulders. kento nanami was not a man who put much value into love, with how dangerous his profession is, fighting the lurking malevolence hiding in the world’s darkest shadows, he didn’t have time for the childishness of falling in and out of love. it was inconvenient, and troublesome.

at least, that’s what he used to believe before you came crashing into his life and touched the heartstrings he has long resigned to keep under lock and key with your delicate hands.

he silently takes off his overcoat then to wrap it around your shoulders like the gentleman he was (he wasn’t about to let the love of his life get drenched in the rain), resisting the urge to grin when he sees just how small you look in it. the next few minutes pass by in absolute silence, the sound of your breaths being the only conceivable sound for a long while.

“…i’m glad you had fun,” he looks up at the stormy sky again. “i did, too.”

“next time, let’s be sure to check the weather forecast ahead of time,” you giggle. he joins your laughter, bringing your hand to his lips, his warm breath tickling your skin, as he lets his lips touch your flesh in a quintessentially classic affectionate kiss on the back of your hand like they do in those vintage hollywood movies. he tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “i know how much you hate the rain.”

“…i think i can make an exception,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

the decibels of his tenor fight against the loud pitter patter of raindrops crash landing on the fiberglass roof of the waiting shed. but you hear his lyrical confession of love anyway, with your heart’s ear perhaps.

“i have the sun with me all the time, anyway,” kento says, planting a soft kiss on your forehead as the rain washes the remnants of his old world away.

[musictherapy611]

I was tagged by @trixclibrarian to list ten facts about myself (which presumably I have not already overshared):

1. I’m straight.

2. I’m of average height at 5’4.5”, but since everyone else in my family is at least 2” taller than I am, I feel short.

3. I hate cooking. (Maybe because I’m not much of a “foodie.”)

4. I love roller coasters! Although at my advanced age, sigh….

5. Before I got tinnitus, I could play flute, oboe, a little clarinet, and trumpet. They all hurt my ears nowadays, if I try to play them, even at pianissimo. So that part of my life is over forever.

6. I know two poems by heart, “Jabberwocky” and Sonnet 116.

7. I have very weak vision, with “myopic macular degeneration” in my left eye. No way would I pass a driver’s test - so that part of my life is also over forever.

8. I taught myself to knit when I was 46, and to crochet a few years later. (Couldn’t afford classes.)

9. I worked as a paraeducator in every grade of public education in the US, K-12. Ask me about your high school AU….

10. I can find the North Star (ofc provided there’s no cloud cover)

Tagging @sunflowerknighted @insanityluv @alwaysdearie @summerwages @drearydaffodil @yonderghostshistories @hapalopus and anyone else who wants to join in….

[roll4luck]

Can we talk about how fun it is to sneak fandom stuff into school work? Im doing a Shakespeare unit in English right now, and part of that is having to write a sonnet

I suck at poetry, so I was expecting to hate it, it had to be about nature and emotion since we were analyzing sonnet 18,

I actually ended up enjoying it a little, since I managed to make it about In Space With Markiplier, making it (obviously) about space, and I even snuck a line in about crew and the Dark

It’s something I always do whenever I’m really dreading an assignment, and it always make any work 10x easier

[novelmonger]

For the book ask game- 4, 7, 17, 21?

4. Are you a fast or slow reader?

I can read pretty fast if I want to, but I usually don't want to :P Especially after the desperate rush through all the books I had to read for the last couple years of high school (in which I took every single literature class they offered) and college (in which I majored in English), I rediscovered the joys of slowing down and savoring a good story, letting it linger, maybe even just reading one chapter a day and letting that be part of a daily routine so every time you think of that book you'll think of a particular stage of your life.

But then there are also times like one day I was working the night shift and read the entirety of Pretties by Scott Westerfeld in the seven hours of my shift I was just on call. Or the day I was going to spend in various waiting rooms of a hospital, so I read almost all of The Magician's Daughter by H.G. Parry. But then, those incidents are memorable because I usually take my sweet time to finish a book.

7. Have you ever despised something you have read?

Well, the only reason I didn't throw The Amber Spyglass by Philip Pullman across the room was because it was borrowed. His dumb and disrespectful agenda got clearer and clearer as the series went along, and by the end of the third book, I was so past caring about any of it. I hadn't yet had the epiphany that I could just stop reading a book if I didn't like it, so I read the entire thing even though I hated every minute of it XD

17. Do you know any poetry by heart?

I think I used to have Shakespeare's Sonnet 116 memorized. Let's see how much I can still remember:

Let me not to the marriage of true minds Admit impediments; love is not love Which alters when it alteration finds Nor bends with the remover to remove O no! it is an ever-fixed mark That looks on tempests and is never shaken

...yeah, that's all I've got. And the meter is off too, I think XD Oh well! It's a beautiful poem.

21. Ideal reading position?

These days, I just do everything from the chair at my desk, reading included. For me lately, it's not so much looking for a "comfortable position" as a "less agonizing position" :/

Bookish Ask Game

[omgpoindexter]

more nurseydex fics!!!

i’ve been doing my duty properly and reading some different nurseydex fics on ao3 lately 🫡 i tried to find some that are more recent, however i inevitably found some that are older but slipped through the cracks for me.

here are some of the ones i came across that you need to read! i might make this a thing again if anyone is interested, im sure y’all have been much more on the ball with reading nurseydex fics than i have over the years but i do love reccing <3

suddenly this summer it’s clear by @dessertwaffles

The summer before senior year, Nursey and Dex become closer than ever.

Or, Nursey and Dex's developing relationship, as told through their text messages.

i was absolutely grinning the entire way through this. it’s a texting fic, with images rather than plain text (so clever!) but their personalities are so strong and their interactions are just perfect! and you know i love a texting fic

getting used to letting go by @jennybeantime

Dex was supposed to have a fancy job in some city upon graduation, but his plans changed once his uncle died and left the family home in Maine to him. Without immediate obligations of their own, Nursey, Chowder and Farmer follow Dex up there to help him clear it out and clean it up.

this fic is BEAUTIFUL. if you haven’t read it then please do yourself a favour and do it now. it captures certain feelings and emotions so effortlessly and i felt like i was in a little maine bubble living this story with them. i can’t believe i missed this one before, please please read!!

got the feeling you’re the right thing after all by @bisexualnursey

Two and a half years after he breaks up with Dex to go to grad school across the country, Nursey runs into him again when he visits New York for the holidays. What starts as them just rekindling their friendship quickly turns into a whole other thing: a 100% no-strings-attached friends with benefits arrangement while they’re in the same city.

Which is totally chill because Nursey is definitely over Dex. He swears. He’s going back to California soon anyway.

i seriously CANNOT BELIEVE i never read this before but i think i was in my inactive era when this was posted. it’s just so perfect!!! all the feelings and interactions with not only dex and nursey but all the other characters, friends and family, they all felt so real and i loved them so much. i’ll be rereading this a LOT! you should too!!

here i am (leaving you clues) by @averteddeyes

Will loves Nursey. Nursey loves Will. Will isn’t really quite sure how to deal with it.

(Alternatively: Will learns acceptance through poetry, hesitant communication, and brightly colored sticky notes.)

this is really gorgeously written. angst warning, because ouch!!! also poetry as a love language, like a really good selection of poetry, i really enjoyed it and how it weaves into the story. and the bittydex friendship is so important to me!!!

volta by @plusoultres

volta (n.) a turning point or point of change in a poem, most commonly a sonnet.

Or, five times a poem doesn’t reach its intended recipient, and one time it does; five drafts, and one work completed; five turning points, and one ending.

the second fic was inspired by this one, and thank goodness it was because this one totally slipped through the cracks and i’m so glad i read it. their banter is just brilliant and i love the variation in medium, and the poetry is beautiful! i could quote lines from this but im not going to. just. read it

things got weird (when we made out) by @andtimestoodstill

Nursey is being stupid about this. He knows he’s being stupid.

super fun and really cute, i love it when these two are just being idiots. great inclusion of the other teammates too. read it for this line alone: “[You’re doing] That thing where you forget to look like you hate Dex and just stare at him like some Victorian lady who just saw a hot dude for the first time.” because it made me laugh out loud

things that go bump in the night by @smashthatlikebitty

The first time it happens, Dex rolls over and flings so many obscenities in Nursey’s direction that even his Grandmother would have to sit down — and she cursed so much at Dex’s cousin’s wedding that the whole family has been banned from that church ever since.

Nursey just stills in the dark, one shoe off. A languid, infuriating presence. “Chill, man.”

essentially all the times nursey’s clumsy ass wakes dex up in the night. oh how i love pretending these two roomied their way into a relationship! this is so cute, smiled all the way through

some things take two people to build by @cricketnationrise

“You are the single most dramatic person I have ever met,” Dex mutters, trying valiantly to hide his grin.

Or, 5 times Dex wishes their relationship was real +1 time he doesn't have to

this was so fun, yet again i love them being idiots!!! these two in new york city is so important to me. and i for one would LOVE to read the work party 5+1 fic. just saying

[minty-tea-soup]

Do you have a favourite poem? Why that one?

I have three answers and all of them are worse then the one previously.

So first is a simple one. Starry Night by Anne Sexton. I just love the description in it. I really enjoy her word choice and it's overall simplicity. I think it's known to be a good poem for a good reason.

My next two are harder. Because I'm in love with spoken word poetry and the thing about spoken word poetry is that you hear it or see it and then you fucking lose it except the half memory.

And so one I have the name of it's called Heidi's Pies or there is another from that same album and Poet that I cannot remember the name of right now. And here's the thing it was a tiny spoken word event that my dad (who writes a decent amount of poetry) and my sister had gone to and then almost ten years later I fell in love with the poems on that album called "Talk Ugly to Me" that was so clearly homemade and then sold in that coffee shop. And while I was able to find one of the poets, it wasn't the poet that made my favorite poems on that CD. For the longest time as well I was terrified of my iPod nano breaking because somehow we had lost the CD and therefore this shitty over 10 year old ipod nano was the only thing I had that had the songs. Since then we have found the CD and I have tried to reach out the poets names I have found to see if I can ask/tell them about these poems that influenced me so much in high school but it's a ghost town to reach.

The last one again is hard cause it was this lady I didn't even plan on watching when my dad dragged me to a Spoken Word Poetry festival to support some of his friends and they had this like read a single poem and them move to the next person thing but it was a previously set list so not just open mic. And this lady did a poem of headlines and ads that she got in her email all the time and constantly saw in her home. And I loved it so much because I think she called it click bait or something like that.

And then this whole thing just reminded me of my current favorite poem which is the Tumblr post that says you can't write poetry about real life sometimes and describes the Airbnb ceiling where someone painted over glow in the dark stars. And then people made it into a bunch of different poems.

Here's that link: https://www.tumblr.com/pinkpuffballdude/782653335482269696?source=share

I grew up surrounded by poetry so much. And how I write often is like if a poem decided it actually was going to pretend to not be a poem a lot of the time. I tend to be very prosey in my work.

I will say that I hate sonnets with a passion of a million suns.

[kedsandtubesocks]

twenty questions for fic writers 💖

thank for the tag my dear @beskarandblasters

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

SO… I still don’t have an ao3 set up LMAO

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

🌝

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Anime (jujustu kaisen, my hero academia) Star Wars, & the various characters in the pedro pascal cinematic universe lol

4. Top five fics by kudos

I’m going with highest notes lol

all of this (& heaven too) - hades!gojo

gamer changer - mlb pitcher!joel miller

your heart, a sonnet - author!joel miller

season of you (spring 1) -stardew valley!joel

cowboys like us - Rodeo cowboys Jack & Din

5. Do you respond to comments?

I do! Or at least i try to 😭

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

the mandalorian!Bakugo arranged marriage ficlet 😞

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

Most of them are happy endings because I am a marshmallow heart that wants us to enjoy sweet things lol - but I think my favorite happy ending is a tie between hades!gojo & javi p mermaid!reader

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I got hate on one of my Joel fics and I just had to laugh because it was such a wild critique lol

9. Do you write smut?

Sometimes!

10. Craziest crossover?

It’s a tie between -

Star Wars x BNHA

Stardew valley x the pedro pascal universe lol

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Almost

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

I haven’t!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Back in high school my best friend and I used to co write fics together!! It was great seeing us build on each others ideas but also laugh at how wildly different our styles were and getting to see them merge together was so fun

14. All time favorite ship?

Me and Din Djarin 😌

(Kel in her response said her and din so i’m embracing that self ship love hell yeah)

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

For anime - my big fantasy royal au gojo fic 💔

for ppcu - my pero fic 😞

16. What are your writing strengths?

I like to think i come up with pretty interesting ideas 😥

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I feel like i get a bit redundant and don’t embrace more poetic styles /:

18. Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

I love to see it but for me writing - it depends on the fic! Like I love getting to sometimes write in Spanish

But I’ve also known how tricky it can be trying to write in other languages for certain fics (like my hopes of writing a small scene in Japanese or even in the many languages in Star Wars fics sometimes just doesn’t flow or read well)

19. First fandom you wrote in?

…full metal alchemist…

20. Favorite fic you've written?

Omg pls don’t make me pick - they all hold a special place in my heart :(

💌

no pressure tags: @stellamancer @willowser @seiwas @julesonrecord @perotovar @burntheedges @pr0ximamidnight @acerathia @hash-slinging-slasher-trash @fairy-writes @swiftispunk @fhatbhabiee @lowlights @undercoverpena @andypantsx3 @ofmermaidstories @tightjeansjavi @joelsgreenflannel & anyone else who wants to join!

[hamliet]

The Best Modern Romeo + Juliet

...is a subplot in The Wizards of Waverly Place. Yeah, the Disney show. I said it. In a time where Florida's taking Romeo and Juliet out of schools, we need this.

It's the only adaptation I've seen in modern day that has Juliet's personality right--her feisty, dreamy, and determined self. I was watching the whole thing going:

Juliet is strong! And smart! And funny! and Romeo is adorable and adorkable and sappy but sincere! The plot might seem obvious--a feud between vampires and wizards--but it turns out to be so much more mundane. The families hate each other because their sandwich rivals are business rivals.

Of course, in the end Justin and Juliet's love for one another enables the Russos and van Heusens to lay down their wands and put away their fangs. The way in which this happens, though, is very funnily told.

But the references and commitment to Romeo and Juliet continue even after the original subplot episodes! In fact, the story ends up almost told in reverse, which is amusing.

See, first Juliet gets trapped with Justin in a museum when the sun starts to rise. Since she'll crisp up if that happens, Justin directs her to allow herself to be controlled by the mummy, since he can take her out of the museum before she broils. He promises to come back for her. Except, after Juliet agrees and leaves with the mummy, Alex arrives to save the day. tl;dr, if Justin had waited a moment, Juliet would not have had to go with the mummy. This is a clear reference to both Romeo and Juliet's flaws in the original play (although, can you call it a flaw when they're both at great risk of dying because their city streets are basically a war zone), and also to the fact that if Romeo had just waited five more minutes before drinking the poison, Juliet would have woken up and they would have escaped.

In the original play, Juliet is encased in her family tomb. Where does the mummy take Wizards!Juliet? His tomb, where he encases her in stone. Justin eventually rescues her with Alex and Mason's help, only for things to then go very wrong, but hey, romance always stumbles in Act 2.

While Juliet is off looking her real age of like, over a thousand years old, Justin tries to move on with varying success. The one he most obvious falls for is Rosie... a reference to Romeo's first love interest, Rosaline.

In the play, Rosaline does not exist to show that Romeo is actually flaky, as cynical modern interpretations assert. Instead, Rosaline exists to be the stereotype of a passive woman. She's a direct parody of Petrarch's Laura, or Dante's Beatrice--both women whom they literally deify as spiritual guides in their poems, but in Petrarch's case he never even spoke to Laura (yeah. yeah.) and Dante never made a move on Beatrice. But their literary works hold this up as holy, because a woman who has sex? Even in matrimony? Less desirable. Less holy. The point of Romeo and Juliet is that Juliet is very human and never "less" because she marries and has sex with Romeo.

Romeo's poetry for Rosaline is deliberately cringey and uses the worst cliches of Shakespeare's time. You're supposed to groan. But Romeo's sonnet at the end of Act 1 is created with Juliet. She's literally saying a couplet, and then he says one, and so on. The poetry when Romeo speaks to and of Juliet was, in Shakespeare's day, incredibly original and stunning. In other words you're supposed to see Rosaline as Romeo being in love with love, and Juliet as the fruition of this.

Anyways. Back to Wizards. Rosie is an angel. Rosaline in the play swears herself to perpetual virginity in a holy vow (but is not a nun, so yes, Shakespeare is pointing at this like "u sure girl?"). Justin's love for Rosie is an infatuation, not real love as it is with Juliet. She's able to quickly manipulate him into bargaining with the devil to destroy the entire world because Rosie became a fallen angel. However, Rosie eventually realizes she loves Justin, truly, and that helps convince her to save Justin from himself and to move back to heaven, where she'll be his guardian angel.

Even though it's told in reverse, this entire arc references the main theme of Romeo and Juliet as a play: being human is good, and love redeems and saves the world. Even though Romeo and Juliet die, their love saves Verona. Rosie's love for Justin might not be requited, but because of it she helps Alex save the world. That she fell from heaven and found love makes her a better guardian angel in the end, not a worse one.

In the end, Juliet reunites with Justin after she's been brainwashed by said devil character, Gorog, which calls back both to the Mummy's mind control and to Justin's and Rosie's story. When Justin, Alex, and Max defeat Gorog, the spell breaks. Juliet expresses horror at what she's done and begs for forgiveness--only to find out that Justin doesn't want her to beg for it. She doesn't need to. She's there, and that's all that matters.

Okay, even besides the Romeo and Juliet arc, The Wizards of Waverly Place is pretty good for a kid's show. It's got very clever moments, and it's clearly a satire that pokes fun at Harry Potter, Twilight, Beauty and the Beast (Alex and Mason), Romeo and Juliet, Cinderella, The Mummy, Night at the Museum, Back to the Future, and more. But you can tell the writers are doing this because they love the original stories, not out of mean-spirited cynicism. It's self-aware without breaking the suspension of disbelief for viewers.

Said suspension of disbelief mostly comes from the characters, who are very well done and have good arcs. Alex and Justin's relationship is at the heart of the series, which fits because the main theme is family. Although Alex at first seems like a slacker on her way to delinquency and Justin's the model student, they are actually far more alike inside than they are different.

Both Alex and Justin know that because of the wizard competition, they only have a limited amount of time to prove themselves. Alex's philosophy is essentially "let's eat and drink and be merry for tomorrow we die/lose our wizard powers," while Justin's is "study study study and be perfect and never lose the power!" But at the heart of both is fear of a coming loss--not just of their power, but of their relationship.

They know one of them will lose powers to the other, and the foundation of their relationship especially in the earlier seasons is helping each other out with magic. It's through untangling Alex's magic-brewed disasters that Justin shows he loves Alex, and it's through asking Justin for help that the normally proud Alex shows that she loves and trusts Justin. You might call it their love language. Without it, can they still even be close?

The ending was perfect because it inverses what you'd expect. Alex goes back to help Justin, knowing that this means she won't win. Justin admits that he messed up and did not actually win, giving up his power because Alex was the rightful winner. And as a result, they are both rewarded: Alex keeps her powers, and Justin also gets to keep them via Professor Crumbs appointing Justin his successor. (Max's story was always more human-world centered, so him getting the subway shop and not his powers fit well for him, too.)

Speaking of Professor Crumbs, I liked how he and other characters like Harper (especially) and Zeke explored the family theme beyond just the Russos. Harper essentially got adopted by Alex's parents because her own parents suck, and Professor Crumbs clearly views both Justin and Alex as his proteges with a fatherly affection. Family can be blood, but it can also be made. So it was fitting that each sibling got a piece of family legacy: Alex as the Family Wizard (extended blood family), Max as the subway shop owner (human parents), and Justin as the next Professor of Magic (found family).

So yeah. If you're looking for a feel good show, this is a good one to check out!

[ginevralinton]

thank you @mortalfollies for the tag! (and apologies for the delayed response - life has been life-ing)

Do you make your bed?

Yes - not in any nice aesthetic way though

If you could, would you go back to high school?

nope. nope. nope. I work at a school (specifically my old secondary) and I would hate to have to go back and be a student again

Can you parallel park?

I can't drive so no...

A job you had that would surprise people?

Not sure if it's surprising as such but people I know now are surprised I worked at a swim club, people who don't know about my name obsession are surprised by the name-website-related job, and I guess I never intended to be working at the place I never wanted to be at?

Do you think aliens are real?

They are possibly, probably, because it feels unlikely this can be the only inhabited planet in the whole entire universe

Can you drive a manual car?

No

What is your guilty pleasure?

Currently watching 'AITA' reaction videos 🤷‍♀️

Tattoos?

I have 8 ! I got a new one recently :)

Do you like puzzles?

Are we talking jigsaw puzzles or do word puzzles count? Jigsaws, no, but I do like some word puzzles, and at the moment, I love those 'word wall connections' from the NYT. (you can play them all here for any one who is bored or wants distraction)

Any phobias?

Dogs (and dog-adjacent animals) have been my life long phobia sadly

Favourite childhood sport?

Probably trampolining, but like, on my own, not competitively or anything. I used to like swimming too, but only in the evenings

First thing you wanted to be growing up?

Eh. I asked my ma this was a while back and she said I didn't really want to be anything... but I guess maybe an author

Do you talk to yourself?

Sometimes

What movies do you adore?

I don't really like movies

Coffee or tea?

Coffee :)

Favourite colour?

Blue or pink

I'll tag @sonnet-of-anarchy @thelastplantagenet and @its-a-hare-pom-pom if you wish to do this!

[iworshipsappho]

im writing this down on a whim, bc Feelings and also this is literally a blog etc etc

so. Imposter Syndrome. its smth that fucking sucks, obviously. but i hate it so much. growing up, pre-covid back when i wasnt even in middle school, i was an ardent reader, like on a totally other level. i read abridged versions of dickens, shakespeare, austen and so much more. my vocab was far more advanced than that of my peers and i was your ideal student, especially in english. but now, im in what, my second year of highschool, and i feel so so guilty. i love literature, i want to read so much. i want to read the iliad, i want to read kafka, i want to read 1984 i want to read all the admn classics. i'll admit, i havent really read a lot of shakespeare tho i claim to be familiar with his works. ive only read the unabridged versions of the mercnhant of venice, and a few pages in hamlet, ive only read abridged versions of a midsummer night's dream. other than those and a few sonnets, i havent read much. im a few chapters into the iliad, and its exhausting to read these days. even for pleasure. im able to read fic or re read rwrb and pjo so many fucking times. but these classics that i want to read and know that i will love, are so fucking hard to get through or even get a start on. poetry is easier, i feel. its shorter, the words hit quicker or whatever, im not sure how to put it. its just. i claim to be, or rather i need to maintain the image of being an ardent reader, like my entire identity depends on it. i see girls in my school reading all these fantasy books and im like, i wish i could do that, i wish i had it in me to be able to read new books. hell i havent even read sherlock holmes, i tried to when i was 11 but then i wasn't able to understand a word of it.

see, i want to study literature in college. i want to write books. i want my words to affect people the way books have impacted me. i want to make a difference. i want to read and write, and i want it to mean something.

but going into my future with this aim to do literature, im scared. my reading habits are not that of someone who has a better vocabulary. i make mistakes in grammar. i have never made mistakes in english when i was younger, i used to be better than the teachers at times. i feel like im failing at the only thing im good at. and i don't know what to do. i've never been average, and now im not able to come to terms with being so. i know im not a bad person, but i feel like one. the prospect of going into college and being only as good as, or hell, worse than my peers is fucking terrifying. that need to be better, to be good at at least the one thing i have always loved is eating me from the inside and im just so so fucking lost.

[spencer-studies]

post one (and a half) month school update!

chat i forgot i made this blog 😭 never fear! your girl has updates :3

august recap:

-was initially enrolled in public speaking, but after listening to freshman scream during presentations i transferred to another band period (where they’re still loud, but if i tell them to shush they listen)

-my ap calc teacher was gone for the first month so i taught our valedictorians how to do math. they keep flirting with me but they just want my hw answers so idk what to do about that. advice greatly appreciated.

-first fb game! was incredibly boring and we lost like 72-0 or smth but the guard had fun inventing stand chant dances :D

-i sprained my back :( right before our pep rally. sucked but i am mostly better now!

-ap lit SUCKS i hate my class. we did a socratic on “Terrence, This is Stupid Stuff” (guess what! not a poem about the speaker’s alcoholism! and if yall wanna see my analysis on that, lmk and i’ll post it)

-i’m in love with ap macro. after calc, my favorite class this year! ap gov is okay, don’t feel like i’m learning much (i’ll post my notes shortly bc they’re really pretty and i worked hard xx)

september recap:

-uh chat my state is on fire. so school was canceled two weeks ago! calc teacher still expected us to do the study guide bc unit 3 exam cares not if your house is on fire 😔 but i did set the curve for the unit test (96.9%)

-i hate ap lit. guys english is my JAM but i hate this class. essay on denotation and connotation in Sonnet 138? sure, but i want to gouge my eyes out (got full marks tho!)

-retook the sat august 24 and got a 1490 (+80 points feom last exam in March! proud of myself, still deciding if i should retake to superscore math bc i got a 790 in reading and im happy)

-made national merit commended scholar! knew i wasn’t getting semifinalist but this is still super cool :D

-had my first cross race on saturday! hugeeee invitational and my time was okay (27:11 for 3 miles) but i have another race this wednesday so that should be faster. super super pretty course and it was a night race; so thankful i get to run every race with my best friend this year because she finally made varsity! im so excited for her our varsity slays this year <3

think that’s it for now! i’ll try to be more regular soon once we’re certain my house isn’t gonna burn down. and stuff. hopefully i’m not just screaming into the void tee hee

[astermath]

hey! how has your day been? i hate school sm rn i have to write a sonnet and it took literally forever like i love writing but only when i actually like doing it yk? anyway i hope you’re doing good i love you’re work and just you so i hope you have a lovely night or day! bye bye! 💗

well i just woke up rn actually lmao, but yesterday was pretty hectic. I woke up at 6 in the morning to get ready for school, I arrived, only to find out I was there 4 HOURS EARLY because of a miscommunication on the school’s behalf. i was so pissed but also just so stressed. the afternoon was fine tho, i liked meeting my classmates, our group is so diverse, i like it a lot.

also i’ve never written a sonnet 😭 is that like a poem of some sorts?

[chunky-dove]

Sleep is for the weak and while I may be weak I also contradict myself constantly so I think it’ll be ok

[epiitaphs]

if someone last year told me i’d be writing near 900 words about 1 poem with NO outside sources or any other guidance i’d be like damn that sound terrible and i’d be right. it does suck. at least it’s du bellay.