#and even stuff that’s not pop can be classified bc no one argues that something isn’t pop

[iwatcheditbegin]

That Pop genre listing still means absolutely nothing to me. She is so experimental with sound, and has publicly said she pushed herself with this album. Im still just as unprepared

[tokyoteddywolf]

Fuck It I'm Gonna Minific From A Phone

A little Self Story bc I need to write SOMETHING and my Voltron fics are reserved for a computer with a proper keyboard.

————————————————- Huffing, the teenage girl smacked her head onto her desk for what felt like the thousandth time that day. ‘When will this suffering end?’ She thought, tugging her scrunchie out and letting her copper and red streaked hair fall out in curly waves, brushing against her shoulders. She idly played with a particular ringlet as her English teacher ranted about Shakespeare or something similar up front, near the whiteboard. Lucky her, she was sitting in the very back, which meant more chances to daydream. Vaguely she thought that she should shower when she got home, since her hair was feeling a little oily and looked dusty, and earlier this morning she’d broken a comb trying to smooth out a few tangles. Curse her genetics for giving her father’s fluffy curls and her Mum’s wavy thickness to her unruly hair. She didn’t care if her hair was classified as “perfect curls or waves”, all she knew was she never had to use a curling iron to get perfect ringlets, and straightening the damn thing was an hour long process she had no energy for. Not to mention water was her number one enemy, always causing it to either curl or frizz when dried. Or both, which was normally why she kept it tied back with a scrunchie. She snapped back to attention when the bell rung, and she gathered up her things and left that godforsaken class. She said hello to a few friends as she passed them in the hallways, and played her usual game of How Gay Am I For That Girl as she walked to Algebra class. Humming along to the tune on her headphones, she slid into her seat once she’d arrived and waved an awkward hello to her pal Nathan, or Omega as he called himself. Things had been a bit strained between them, mainly because Nathan had a crush on her and she only saw him as a brother. She always felt bad when someone liked her, not that it had ever happened before to her knowledge, mainly because she was Aromantic. She turned to her notebook and hummed quietly to herself, remembering the conversation she’d had with her Mum the other day. “Boys are like static cling sometimes!” Her Mum had sighed, brushing silver and black hair out of her hazel green eyes. “So, you never really felt like dating anyone?!?” She’d responded, actually a little shocked. “No, actually. I stayed single my whole life til I met your father. He’d actually just stuck around me, and we ended up getting married, before that divorce. Every boyfriend since has just stuck to me until I agreed to one date, and I guess I just never had the heart to say no until I got fed up enough.” The older female had explained with a wry smile. “So you must actually be Aromantic like me! Huh! Ya learn something new everyday…” the teen had muttered, before grinning at her Mum. “So once we kick Steve out, no more boyfriends? Promise?” She’d asked, adding puppy eyes for full effect. Her Mum had laughed and nodded agreement. She shook out of the memory when a sheet of complicated looking equations was passed over to her, and she sighed. She had no idea what she was supposed to do, so she huffed and at least tried to figure out what the fuck X equaled. An hour and a half later, she was slumped against her close friend and brother figure Sam, who didn’t complain and merely continued to eat the nachos she’d gotten for him. He never had any money for school lunches, and she’d felt awful when she saw the sad little sandwiches he’d had to eat. She’s started with handing over her leftover food she hadn’t eaten, since she was worried he wasn’t eating enough. Then it turned into her handing over her food at every lunch period since her new meds that controlled her anxiety and ADHD also acted as a hunger suppressant, leaving her appetite nonexistent. She ate, of course, usually when she saw food she liked, such as the fish or the egg rolls, or usually just survived off of the fruit cups and milk cartons. Sam glanced over at where her head was pressed against his leather jacket covered shoulder and raised an eyebrow. “Tough day?” He asked nonchalantly, dipping a chip into some of the liquid cheese and sour cream as she grumbled and looked up and stared at his sideburns. “You have no idea. I might not live through fifth and sixth period.” She groaned, absolutely limp against his form. They had that weird sibling dynamic where physical affection wasn’t all that unwelcome. Sam chuckled and patted her knee sympathetically. “You’ll survive. If I can listen to Mel whine about her problems all day and still keep my sanity intact, then you can survive the next two classes today.” She snorted out a half laugh. “Well, yer her boyfriend. Listenin’ to her is kinda yer job.” She drawled, slipping into her Texan accent. What? She was tired! Her ADHD had kicked her ass the night before, so she’d been up til nearly three in the morning aching to go run or something before she managed to settle down enough to get SOME sort of rest. Sam rolled his eyes and munched on another chip. “Can’t argue with that.” He hummed, shrugging. She sighed. “Honestly I just want to take a nap but I have stuff to do…” Sam rolled his eyes again. “Don’t we all?” He joked, reaching up to ruffle her hair. She purred delightedly at the attention. She adored head rubs, but it was something she only let trusted people do. Which was rare, since she literally had no trust in anyone, anxiety only worsening the problem and making her believe that, even though she had a good life and friends and family that really cared, everyone would turn on her and abandon her and pretty much show that everything was one big lie, a joke. She and Sam started chatting about story ideas, since they had their own little AU called the Squad AU, just a little story about their OC’s and the trouble they get into in different universes, some already existing and some made up. The bell rang again, dismissing the lunch crowd, and she gathered up her things and bid goodbye to her pals as she moved to the class in the library. She grinned as the class door unlocked and she entered the computer filled room, sliding into her favorite spot and swivel chair, adjusting the tilted computer screen and lowering the chair so her chest could have a rest on the wooden table and give her aching shoulders and back a rest. Cracking her neck and back, rolling her shoulders, she popped a few finger joints and logged in, already working on an essay paragraph so she could do what she really wanted to; free write. She actually had a deal with the teacher, after several talks and lectures. After a while, he’d given her a deal: as long as you write a poem a day or an essay paragraph, you can take the rest of the class off to write your creative stories and documents. She’d finished the poem assignment a few days ago, so now it was just a paragraph for an essay a day and she could go back to writing plot lines, head canons, fic ideas and short stories as much as she liked. Once finished with the paragraph, she pulled up a familiar document, the plot line for a Shance one shot she was making, and started adding in more details to the document. Humming, she checked over everything and made a few changes before deeming it ready to be written out as an actual story before opening a new document and starting a new plot line, this one for another one shot idea she’d had last night during her little hyper episode, though to be honest she’d seen the same thing around a few times already but it never failed to make her smile or giggle. She had to research a little for it, but that was okay and she had the bare bones of the idea down by the time the bell ring. She saved everything twice before closing everything and logging off, ready for the long exhausting march to sixth period over in the second building. Once there, she greeted everyone with her usual “Man I feel dead inside!” and slumped into her tall chair, grateful for the cold black plastic table top against her cheek as she rested her head against it. A pencil shooting across the table had her glaring up at her frenemy, Nicholas. “Nick, for the love of everything holy, could ya fucking not?” She growled as the taller boy grinned at her from two tables away, his face blurry since she’d left her glasses at home today, but she could still practically FEEL him smirking. “But messing with you is more entertaining than anything else.” Nick chirped, twirling another pencil in his hand before flicking it at her. She flipped him the bird and nuzzled into her bag, to tired from the jog up the stairs to respond back for the moment. She rummaged around in her bag before pulling out a bag of chips and throwing it at him. “Here. Now shut up and leave me alone.” She hissed, glaring at him as she fumbled with her scrunchie and retied her hair back into a ponytail, or bunnytail since it was short and fluffy and curled down to brush against the back of her neck. To be fair, they were friends, sort of, since Nick went to her Grandpa’s church and she usually saw him there whenever she visited. But, they had a mutual hatred and respect for each other. A weird dynamic, since one moment she’d be sharing food with him and he’d be chatting with her about the logistics of a show, but the next they’d be at each other’s throats with scissors and flailing arms. No real harm was ever done, but it did annoy her to no end when he threw things like pens and popsicle sticks at her. She put on her headphones and ignored him the best she could, occasionally throwing a pen back or discreetly flipping him off, and started doodling in her notebook again. “Oh thank God, I’m free!” She declared as she exited the school, her scarf getting tossed into her face from the wind. Tucking the blue fabric back around her neck, she mumbled to herself as she walked the short distance to her house. “Well, at least until tomorrow.” She sighed, waiting for the crosswalk to turn green so she could cross the street and get home. It was a nice day for once, windy but not freezing cold like the winter they’d just left. Her skirt pressed against her legs as cars blew past, her scarf fluttering over her shoulder as she plucked her loose curl, the one she kept shorter for aesthetic purposes, out of her eyes in time to see the light turn green. She finally got home, and after fending off the excited dogs that swarmed her when she got inside, carefully dodging the hard whip-like tail of her boxer pit bull mix Kane who was a total sweetie, she managed to get into her room and shut the door to be alone. Ignoring the mess on the floor, she flopped onto her bed and sighed into a pillow before checking Tumblr, bored already. “Well, today was boring.” —————————————— I’m ending it there. See what happens when I’m not allowed to write for so long?!?!?!?