#me in highschool: fuck writing essays

[spaciebabie]

you get ta college and realize that everybody here is just Some Guy™ and has been Some Guy™ for their whole lives. the veteran seniors are having breakdowns right next ta the freshmen in the library, our final essays for the semester are started and finished two days b4 its supposed ta b turned in and all our rough drafts look like somebody rubbed 3 braincells on a google doc and then puked on it

[sophysaurus]

Found my least favourite.

[the-kneesbees]

i love how my school pressures us to decide exactly what we want for our future as soon as possible so we can start taking classes and internships that will help us with our chosen path and then make it nearly impossible for some of us to choose classes related to what we want to do in the future

[inupibaldspot]

So It Matches Your Eyes.

Characters: Gojo Satoru x Reader

Note ₊˚⊹♡ : Highschool!Gojo has a crush on you, idk mane.

To Yaga, this was a sight of fresh air which almost acted a light reminder that his students being so strong and special affiliated with cursed energies where still children.

His four second year students were all under detention after forgetting to make a veil when they carried out a mission. Dealing with the after math which consisted of explains to the elders and finding excuses on how to twist the media had led him to not sleeping for three days! Now he was making all of them write an descriptive essay on why veils are such importance to jujutsu sorcerers . Shoko’s seat was empty though , she was summoned in the infirmary after a third year student was severely injured from a mission, Yaga hoped Shoko didn’t miss out too much of her school days.

Despite, Yaga having a book in his hands as he read through got distracted my a certain trouble maker student, Gojo Satoru. A strong young man born into the esteemed Gojo Clan, blessed with infinity and six eyes was currently looking a certain someone sitting next to him.

You who was always diligent was working on your essay, occasionally closing your eyes with a small pout and when you felt you finally got a point worth writing down,tongue slightly jutting out from the corner of your lips which would make Gojo’s lips curl up as his eyes soften. Ahh young love.

Yaga had noticed how Gojo’s seat would be much closer to yours as compared to the regular seating arrangements, and if anyone Yaga himself would come in early and make changes to the seating, Gojo would always nonchalantly, without fail shift it closer to yours.

“Yaga Sensei, I’m done!” You shouted up from your seat which made both Yaga and Gojo, jump as you rush quickly up to your teacher with your paper which you had your essay written on. “ I’m done so I’ll be leaving. Drama of Haruma Miura will be coming out and I haveeee to watch it live.”

“Wai-!” Ignoring Yaga’s shout you quickly made your way out of the door leaving a trail of dust behind with how quick you were which made Geto laugh at your antics.

Yaga quickly scans through you essay and sighs. It’s well written so I have no place to complain. “Sensei, I’m also done!” Gojo quickly rushes to his teacher and places his paper on his table about to rush away, in a rush to follow you.

Before Gojo could take another step, he felt a tug on his collar as his turns his head to look at his teacher who had a scrowl on his face. “Satoru,I asked for a descriptive essay!”

“Not only did you write me an argumentative essay, your essay completely sided with not putting up a veil because that’s a drag and ordinary people should just suck it up.” Geto sits completely amused, as Yaga never lets go of Gojo’s collar as he continues to shout at him, the way you’ve got Gojo completely following you everywhere with his puppy love was funny as fuck.

You flinch as the door to your slams open which makes you turn your head to find a scrolling Satoru Gojo walk in with his hands in pocket. “ Haven’t you ever heard of knocking?”

“Beats me.” Despite entering the room like an uncivilized person would gently close the door behind him, he didn’t want more scolding from you. His eyes trails to you who sat on your bed with a small table on your bed, your hand was extended with nail polish es sets on the table. “Weren’t you gonna watch a drama or something?”

You huff as you made sure your left hand was staying still,making sure the mail polish dries properly. “He kisses the female lead so I don’t wanna watch the drama no more…”

Gojo’s smiles, a condescending one in fact as he walks and slowly sits on your bed making sure your nail polishes don’t fall over. “Sucks to be you~” He purrs out his words.

“Hmp! I hope Inuoe Waka gets exposed for having a husband.” You say with Gojo going ‘blah blah’ in the background, smile still plastered on his face. Your eyes look over to his, sharing an eye contact as you smile. “Want to put on some nail polish?”

Gojo peers over. “You gonna apply for me right?” And smiles when you have a nod of confirmation as he hurriedly out-stretched his hand towards you.

“Really? I thought you’d be against it,saying something like this ain’t what men do?” Gojo have no shit to that thought, as long as the girl he had a big fat crush on, holds his hand, a win is a win.

You look over you collection. “What color do you want?.”

“What do you suggest?”

“Maybe blue…a blue which would look similar to your eyes.”

“Beautiful…” Gojo slightly melts as you peer over your collection, your hair slightly covering your face as the evening light from the sun gives your face a heavenly look. “I meant of course! My eyes are a beautiful blue!” He stammers through his sentences as he fights back the heat on his face.

You looked at him with a scowl, what an egotistical brat! Was written all over your fave but then you didn’t say a word as you picked up a color and held his hand, bringing it closer to yours as you start applying the nail polish.

Gojo felt as if the part of his hands which were held were extremely warm, he hoped he doesn’t start sweating. But as he continues to look at you and your eyes which was focused on his fingers, he felt very light, as if this was how it was always meant to be with him being with you and you who looked simply so beautiful as the room was engulfed in a comfortable silence.

“Done!” You smiled as you looked at the nail polish on Gojo’s fingers before your lips curled upwards turned into a pout. “You’re so unfair, Satoru…”

Gojo tilted his head in confusion. “What did I do?”

“Even your hand is so pretty.” You huff as you brought your hands next to his. Gojo’s hands were big yet it was so slim with proper trimmed nails , you had no doubt if he were to become a nail model he’d be booked and busy.

Gojo felt heat rush into his face as he tried to keep his heart from beating too fast as his brain starts to make unconfirmed scenario but in which all of them contained you. “What do you mean ‘even’?”

You looked into his eyes for a brief second as you slowly look away, your cheeks had a beautiful flush to it. “I mean… you’re born into the Gojo clan so you’re already freaking rich… you have such cool cursed techniques, you’re already a special grade sorcerer.”

Gojo bites the inside of his cheeks In disappointment from your answer. As he opened his mouth, about to make a snarky remark you beat him to it.

“You’re tall, your hair always looks good no matter how you style it, your eyes are so beautiful which looked like the limitless skies , you’re also good looking…” you finally look into his eyes, Gojo thought that it was his day to die for a second at how adorable you looked with a shy look into your face. “So it’s unfair that you even got pretty hands.. you literally got everything.”

“…you.” Gojo muttered in a low, quiet voice which you couldn’t understand properly so you titled you head as you have him a confused look, blush still dusted on your cheeks from your confession.

“I don’t have you…” He repeated. “If you were mine then only can I say I have everything.” Gojo had always made many scenarios which was about him confessing to you as he attended class, in his showers, before he slept but this, this wasn’t part of his scenario. This wasn’t how he thought he’d be confessing to you but then the moment now seemed just right.

“I see… I guess that really means you’ve got everything.” You break into a smile as you then put out your hand towards him. “Do you mind coloring this hand of mine?”

Gojo smiles as his heart soars, he tries to control his lips from curling into a smile but then despite being the strongest sorcerer of his generation he is unable to; he was simply that happy, so happy that you reciprocated his feelings. “What color?”

“Blue like yours…So we can show everyone that I belong to you,Satoru.”

Guys I’m kinda proud of this cus even I was giggling, twirling my hair and swinging my legs writing this

[lnights]

Hey! As someone who's only kinda recently started getting into Blind Channel, can you "introduce" the band members to me/tell me any fun facts? 😊

It's okay if not, I just feel like it's so fun hearing it from other fans than trying to dig it out myself LOL

Welcome friend 🖤

You're about to get an essay 😂 anyone please add in, this isn't an all inclusive list of everything about them.

Let's start with Joel - vocals (and guitar depending on if you're going back to the first couple albums)

Joel is the oldest member of the band at 30, has ADHD, has dealt with insomnia, talked about being bullied in highschool, handles the band's social media, has a wine and has made a lot of references to dating his hand 😂

He is one half of the (t)error twins with Joonas, such named by the other members of the band for their chaos and having the same birthday, one year apart. He has said more than once that Joonas is his closest friend and they're found hanging out a lot outside of the band, they have been called an old married couple, always squabbling (but with a lot of obvious brotherly love)

Joonas - guitar

Second half of the (t)error twins, sings backing vocals, has been photographed with his dick out on more than once occasion, has a naked painting of himself, he's (sometimes questionably) a fashionista, and is known to have a rather sensitive digestive system.

Joel met Joonas in highschool after their own bands ended and became friends, eventually decided to form their own band, Joonas had already been in a band with Olli and their now tour manager Santeri, and previously in one with Tommi. Joonas, Olli, and Tommi are childhood friends prior to highschool.

Niko - vocals

Niko went to the same highschool as the other founding members, but hung out with a different crowd. Joonas, Olli, and (maybe) Tommi were at a house party, Linkin Park’s In The End came on, Niko rapped Mike's parts and Joonas invited him to join him for the band’s first practice the next day. Joel picked him up, even though they hadn't met.

He plays and teaches piano, writes most of the band's lyrics (though there is collaboration), has a kitty named Rommi, has a long term girlfriend, Joonas lived with them for a while. He has a large band symbol on his side with roses for each of the band members (minus Aleksi, but he does have a matching tattoo with him)

Tommi - drums

Papa bear himself! Lot of bear references with him, he has the nickname nalle (teddy bear in Finnish) from the band. He used to drive the band around when they were still in vans rather than tour buses and his job in the band is to “have final say”.

There's a single brain cell in this band, and most of the time it seems like Tommi has it, but every once in a while he's as dumb (affectionate) as the rest of them. He and Olli are the only two still in the band's hometown and as far as we know he is the only member of the band without tattoos. And he's a nurse!

Olli - bass

Called the most beautiful member of the band by his bandmates and known to eye-fuck any camera that happens to be focused on him.

Or if you happen to be watching them live 😳 it's intense.

He used to have gauges. There are several photos and videos of him and Joonas just holding hands 🖤 (lots of love in this band)

He can come off as a bit of an airhead, the biggest example of this is his poor bass Simba (rip) that he left on top of a van at a gas station, didn't realize until they had left and was far far down the road. He did eventually get it back but it was destroyed.

He designed their newest stage outfits and even sewed the patches on himself. He used to work at a hospital transporting patients.

Aleksi - DJ/percussion

Newest member of the band and only non-original member.

Had/has a solo DJ career and career as a producer as Alex Mattson, and accidentally ignored Joel in 2016 when he reached out to talk about a collab.

He ended up meeting Joel and Joonas at a Bring Me the Horizon concert in November of 2016 (where they also met Joonas (Johnny) Parkkonen) and they cleared up the accident and became friends.

He collaborated with them and help with song writing/production before he officially joined the band in 2020

Baby of the band and a menace. He got his first tattoo with a couple members there to hold his hand, I think it was Joel and Niko, Joonas went with him to get his band tattoo.

He grew up around the music scene (his dad is a booking agent) and was a drummer in a band as a kid. He has a little dachshund named Rilla

Joel, Joonas, Niko, and Aleksi all have the band's symbol tattooed on them. Joel's is in his arm, Joonas has it in his hand, Niko on his side, and Aleksi near his wrist.

[jewish-vents]

the war and dumb internet leftists have actually sparked a major interest in sociology in me to the point I think I'll pursue the field after highschool but I realised the exact people and movements I want to and probably will write 40 page essays in criticism of will immediately dismiss it as bigoted anti-woke bullshit ESPECIALLY because I'm Israeli and idk it's fucking with me a little. I think in like 10 years they'll still be stuck in their little cult meanwhile my throat would have bled dry from screaming about moral purity and cultural christianity and systemic antisemitism.

.

[amiiancasselmanyet]

Fix Me is a Mid 2000's Classic, You're Just Not From Canada

before I start this essay series, I would like to clarify that this is NOT a series of reviews but just me genuinely expressing my feelings I have towards the albums in question because I’m a highschool dropout…bon appetite or whatever

also tw for eating disorders, self harm, general mental illness and addiction but this is fix me, you probably knew that

When most people think about early to mid 2000s rock albums that became staples and bands that became household names, there's a few that genuinely come to mind. Let’s get the “emo trinity” out of the way; From Under The Cork Tree was Fall Out Boys sophomore album from 2005 that is still widely loved for good reason. The songs are good and the lyrics hit when you least expect it. Every. Single. Time. Then, of course, we have The Black Parade. I cannot express my love of this album enough, it is quite literally my all time favorite and while Three Cheers has a more solid concept (man kills other men to try and get his lover back, homosexual antics ensues), there's a reason it’s arguably their most well known and beloved by the kids who used to bully you in middle school. Of course we have A Fever You Can’t Sweat Out coming in right after this, there’s not much I can say since this album truly deserves it’s own essay that I won't manage to write (Ryan Ross please come back the kids and I miss you) but, like the other albums, it's a STAPLE at Emo Nites and Emo Nite knockoffs (shout out to Sneaky Dees in Toronto). There is, however, an album among them that's a hidden gem due to the fact that . Fix Me was the debut studio album from Marianas Trench, arriving in 2006. This album stands out from the others in a lot of ways, its sound, its vulnerability and its general lack of a concept. This album was a shot in the dark and a testament to taking chances. Let's talk about it. 

If you’re even a little bit familiar with Marianas Trench (you definitely are because you are on a blog dedicated to the drummer, my beloved bias Ian Casselman), the sound you’re used to most likely isn’t here. This album is gritty, it’s production is grungy. When you look at the other albums at face value, it stands out as nothing like the rest. If you dig deeper, however, you realize that this album truly was the foundation of what was to come. The guitar heavy sound continues throughout the discography, even if it feels less clean than its successors. It adds to the aggression a lot of the songs have, it makes the lyrics hit harder. It was too rock for the pop charts but too pop for the rock charts.(I’m pretty sure Josh said that but this thing isn’t getting a bibliography, this is a more sophisticated shit post on a blog that, again, focuses on the silly drummer with mutton chops) While the sound is incredible, the true core of the album lies in its vulnerability.

Fix Me is essentially an auditory diary, with each track feeling like a new entry. There are themes focusing on the actual struggles Josh Ramsay dealt with at the time. There’s a lot about addiction (specifically heroin), self harm, eating disorders (specifically bulimia) and general depression. It's angsty. It's difficult  to hear at times. You're not supposed to get personal during essays but this is literally on a blog where I refer to the followers as “casselman nation”, it’s a lawless land and fuck you I’ll do what I want. This album, at its core, felt like it was almost a diary entry from a younger me. 

14 year old me was very different from the current me, I had a different name entirely, a different outlook on life and a lot of things that shaped me today had not happened yet. I was unmedicated and everyone else's problem. If you ever scroll down on the personal tag of my main (you WILL NOT, you DO NOT need to see my digital footprint and angst), you'll notice that there's a lot of themes on this album that pertained to me at that time. I was VERY depressed, undiagnosed bipolar 2, bulimic and…doing things in school bathrooms I shouldn't have with items from my art class I shouldn't have had access to in that state (not going to elaborate, I’m sure you get where I’m going). When you deal with those things head on, you tend to, from experience, seek out public figures, whether it be musicians or celebrities or youtubers (shout out to Dan and Phil lmao) who have similar experiences that you had. For me, a big one from the get go was Marianas Trench. There’s something oddly comforting in not only knowing you’re not only alone but that you’re ALSO going to survive. I truly wish I was able to hug 14 year old me but I also know that they’d be proud that I DIDN’T do the thing I wanted to do before I turned 17.

There’s another reason Fix Me is truly removed from other albums and it truly feels like the biggest component; there's no concept. Fix Me has its own identity but it's not through a story or through successful singles, it's through the fact that it has none of it. It shines through its simplicity, its impact is through the way it can stand alone. It’s an album by the band that could be, and should be at times, put on shuffle. It’s an album where you can pick any song, off the top of your head, and listen to it when you’re feeling angry or sad or full of unbridled angst. Sure, you CAN listen to other songs on other albums one at a time, Masterpiece Theatre is the first on I can think of off the top of my head, however, would you want to? Would you want to listen to The End of An Era and have it followed up with a song like This Means War? It 100% kills the immersive nature that the band has carefully crafted over the last 20 years. (yes they’ve been a band that long considering the fix me bsides are from 2001, yes it makes me feel geriatric) I think the biggest reason that it personally hits every mark imaginable for a grungy punk record is the fact that there is no secret meaning hidden in each song, its open and honest from the get go. It’s raw, real and does exactly what it needs to do.

Through its sound, its ability to be honest and vulnerable in its writing and the easily accessible material, it's a staple. Shake Tramp belongs in an Emo Nite just as much as something like Sugar We’re Going Down and more than Welcome to the Black Parade (I love that song but it doesn’t fit the vibe as well as House of Wolves or The Sharpest Lives, Emo Nite is just catering to the normies and preps). Decided to Break Its video should be as beloved as I Write Sins Not Tragedies. Marianas Trench deserve their flowers for being such a staple in the lives of canadian teens who are struggling, the adults who want to comfort their inner teen selves and those who, in general, are feeling small.

[variety-fangirl]

Based off this ask:

Yours / Jimmy Keene x fem!reader:

Summary: inspo above ^ You and Jimmy had met in highschool, been friends for many years and dated not long after. Everything was perfect and he'd proposed after three years together. Was being the key here, because you hadn't expected to be engaged for a year and planning your wedding, only to find out you were 16 weeks pregnant with Jimmy's baby and him being arrested not long after before you had a chance to tell him. And if that wasn't bad enough, he pushes you away whilst in prison.

Warnings: angst which turns into fluff, happy ending. Not much (swearing, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of breast feeding, and general stresses of being a single mother semi-alone.)

Aurthor's Note: I'm back my loves! God has it been long overdue and how I have missed writing! College had been extremely busy and took up so much of my time, writing essays 3-5 times a week with little free time genuinely took all the joy out of wanting to write in my free time (when normally I always look forward to it and can't wait for the weekend to come so I can write). Months of non-stop work and a lack of free time made things so hard and I didn't want to do anything really. But! Now that college is finished, I am hoping to now return :D Yay! How I have missed it and you guys. Thank you to those who have been paitient, I know it sucks. Thank you for requesting, I do apologise that this took so long but I hope you read it and enjoy it all the same! As always, thank you guys for reading! It means the world to me, and I hope you guys enjoy! I have some exciting writing coming up! Liking, reblogging, and commenting really helps me out.

Plus note- I had started this earlier but I become quite unwell :( so it took me longer to get this done than before.

Word count: 2.7k

You had always thought your life was relatively normal. You had a lovely home, friends, a family, a fiance, etc... Nothing out of the ordinary, the same as most had. That was until your whole world got wiped out from under you, twofold. They always told you marriage was the hard part, that that would be where you had to put work in, but they failed to mention what could happen before that. The part no one had seen coming. That day in the courthouse, when Jimmy had reassured you all would be well and he wouldn't be gone long, he hadn't counted for the hard part either.

10 years.

10 fucking years he had been sentenced to. 10 years you would have to be without him and raising your baby alone. Not only would you lose him but your child would too, without ever even knowing him.

Even with him leaving for that long, you wouldn't move on or be with another. Jimmy was and is your everything, your soulmate and the one you were meant to be with. Granted, when you'd talked about and planned your future together over the years, you'd envisioned it side by side in your loving home. Not with him spending the next decade in prison, away from you and your baby.

When you'd heard those words come out of the judge's mouth and witnessed as the blood drained from Jimmy's face, the once smug and confident look wiping off his face instantly, you broke. If you hadn't already been sitting, you'd have collapsed under the shock and destruction that took over you like a boulder. Jimmy screamed your name as he'd been dragged away kicking and yelling, the tears pouring down your face as you desperately attempted to catch your breath. You couldn't, no matter how hard you'd tried, you were having a panic attack in the courthouse.

Jimmy's father had led you into the cool fresh air and held your hair back as you'd heaved and vomited all over the floor. He'd rubbed your back and said soothing, comforting, kind words to try and calm you down. Jimmy had driven you there, so you drove his car back. You all went to Jimmy's father's house to discuss what to do. You devised a plan on how everything would work and how best to support Jimmy through it. You had all cried together, huddled in a pile of supportive comfort to one another. It had helped you all to calm down enough but it didn't lessen or take away the raging knot of sorrow in your chest. The tight pressure that has refused to leave you, even to this day.

You had all agreed to take turns visiting Jimmy and provide him with anything he needed to make the difficult transition easier. But, to your absolute horror, Jimmy refused any of you to see him whilst in prison. You hadn't spoken to him, only heard the words from his father. He only spoke to his father on the phone. He allowed his father to visit him once in the beginning, in which he'd written you a letter for his father to give you.

The letter had been simple, straightforward and had left no room for argument. He had simply stated that he didn't want to keep you waiting so he was letting you go, that putting you through ten years of waiting was cruel and that he would always love you.

He'd left you. After everything, he had left you before you could tell him you were pregnant with his child.

You'd wanted to tell him so badly, but he wouldn't allow you to. You refused to have his father tell the father of your child and fiance that he was having a baby with the woman he was trying to push away. So, you'd tried to write him letters. Five in fact. Telling him about the baby and the fact that you wouldn't let him do this but he wouldn't accept them. He either kept them unopened or threw them away. You'd asked his father but he said he hadn't opened them and wouldn't.

You had told his father and stepmother the news, wanting to share it with someone and they had been so happy for you. They begged to tell him but understood that when you refused, it was something you wanted to share with him. So, you'd kept writing him letters with details about your pregnancy, provided pictures of your sonograms, and chatted about baby names. Hoping that one day he would open them and contact you on the number you provided.

But the call never came.

Your due date approached and arrived, and you gave birth to a beautiful and healthy baby boy. He was a mirror of Jimmy, a spit of his father in every way. He was beautiful. Jimmy's parents had been there to support you every step of the way, and you'd stayed with them for the first three months after you'd given birth. You had struggled desperately on your own and hadn't coped with the loneliness, so they had offered you to stay with them for as long as you needed. And honestly, they had loved it anyway.

Being a single mother over the coming months alone had been an adjustment period and a difficult one at that. You hadn't thought months and months ago when you'd found out you were pregnant, that you would have been doing it by yourself. You had always envisioned that when the time came, you would be doing it together. With Jimmy, your beloved, by your side. And yet here you were with a toddler, raising him by yourself.

You'd been angry in the beginning with Jimmy, wishing he hadn't been so stupid but it quickly had turned into anguish and sadness. Night after night as your baby slept beside you, you'd wonder how he was doing in prison. Wondering how he was managing, hoping he wasn't hurt or being hurt by others. You knew Jimmy was more than capable and could take care of himself, but that didn't mean that you didn't still worry for his safety and wellbeing.

You looked down at your son and wondered how different things would have been had Jimmy been by your side raising your son together. How sad you felt for the small things Jimmy had already missed. Your pregnancy and the bonding, the birth of his son and being by your side to support you inside of his parents, the first night home, the first feed, the first bath, etc... All the little things that bonded you to your baby and the precious memories those hold.

Throughout the months you had shown your baby boy pictures of his father and chatted to him about stories of Jimmy, even though you knew he didn't fully comprehend or understand what you were saying, you still felt it was important. You repeated 'da da' to the photos of Jimmy, trying to help your son associate his father with the photo, so he would know who he was. Eventually, he started babbling 'da da' at the photo on his own as the months went on. It made you smile bittersweetly that he seemed to recognise him in some ways at least.

A few weeks after your son had turned eleven months, you found out from Jimmy's father that he would be released from prison due to a secret deal he'd made with investigators for information about a serial killer's victims, in which the serial killer was in the prison with Jimmy. To say you were shocked was an understatement. Not only did you still not come to the acceptance that Jimmy would be gone for ten years, but you now had to accept and wrap your head around that he would be released a week from now. Just before your son turned 1 year old.

You had instantly burst into tears. Tears of confusion, relief, happiness, and worry. Jimmy had rejected you in more ways than one. He rejected you as his partner and took the option of choice away from you, as a way of trying to protect you but in doing so had hurt you more. He rejected the promise he had made to you, in which you would be together until you both died. He rejected your son, without even knowing him or the fact he was doing it because he refused to even give you the respect of speaking to you. And he rejected you and your feelings. He pushed you and your baby away.

You had asked his father to pick Jimmy up on the day of his release, for both obvious and selfish reasons, and asked that he prepare Jimmy for things to be different when he arrives home. But not to mention your son, you would do that. You had also asked his father to tell Jimmy that you were still at your home and wanted to talk when he arrived. He said he would get Jimmy to text you from his phone when they were close, so to give you enough time to prepare for his arrival.

You prepared some tea for yourself to calm down, fed your son and changed him, cleaned a little and waited anxiously for the text. You had stared furiously at your phone for that text. You'd distracted yourself by telling your adorable son that his father was coming home, hoping your baby would calm you down enough. You wondered if he would recognise him when he came through the door. And, how Jimmy would react when he sees the mini version of him.

Twenty minutes later, Jimmy and his father are outside your home, slowly making their way inside. You had chosen to stand in the hall, facing the door with your son in your arms, waiting patiently but anxiously for them to walk through the door. You had let them know to knock and then walk inside on their own accord.

The door opened slowly, so agonisingly slow and quietly, that you could hear and feel your heartbeat around you. Your breathing laboured in anxiety and stress. But the second you laid eyes on Jimmy, it felt like your world was complete. The man you love was standing in front of you in the open doorway once more with a look of utter shock on his face. He was looking at you and it felt like time stopped for a moment. You both stared wide-eyed at one another, not uttering a word.

That was until your son squealed in annoyance that no one was paying attention to him. He fussed to be put down, putting up a fight against you, so you put him down to do as he pleased. What you didn't expect though, was for your son to crawl over to Jimmy babbling 'dadada' over and over, until he was at Jimmy's feet. He squealed in happiness as he raised his arms and did grabby hands towards Jimmy, indicating he wanted to be picked up.

Jimmy looked at you as if asking for permission. You nodded and watched as Jimmy picked him up. Your son squealed whilst continuing to babble about 'dadada' as he grabbed Jimmy's face. You finally decide to speak, to break the awkward silence from everyone. "Jimmy, meet your son Tyler. Tyler sweetie, meet your daddy." You sweetly cooed the end to your son, introducing the two. Jimmy looked at your son in awe as he gently ran a finger down his cute chubby cheek.

"Baby? How? I have so many questions." Jimmy questions in both shock and awe, smiling when Tyler babbles nonsense at him and happily waves his arms about. You smiled at the scene in front of you and nodded, "I showed him pictures of you and said 'da da' at it. To help him recognise you. Granted I didn't know you would be released so soon and didn't expect him to pick it up so soon. But I'm glad he seems to recognise you. Shall we sit so I can explain?"

You invite them both in, watching with amusement and melting inside as Jimmy carefully watches his every step, looking downward as he moves into the living room with you. James stepped back, "I'll leave you pair to talk, I'll come by later sweetheart." You nodded appreciatively and hugged him before joining Jimmy.

You sit down with Jimmy on the couch, sitting Tyler on your lap as you face Jimmy. It was dinner time, so you pulled out your breast to feed Tyler. "Oh shit! I'll look away..." Jimmy coughed and turned away quickly as you situated Tyler comfortably to eat. You giggled to yourself, "C'mon Jim. It's nothing you haven't seen before. Besides, technically we didn't break up, so..." You cleared your throat uncomfortably, and Jimmy turned to look at you with a confused expression.

You decided to just get on with explaining, to make things more clearer for him. "I was already pregnant before you got arrested but I only found out a week before. I had missed my period and decided to just take a test to be sure and found out. I was going to tell you but then everything turned into chaos and you shut me out. I wrote you letters, so many letters Jim, explaining that we were expecting and for you to please call me or let me visit, but you never replied..." You took a deep breath, looking away for a moment.

"But I never stopped writing them. I put important stuff in there FIY, if you want to be caught up properly." You looked down and stroked your son's cheek as you spoke the next part, it hurt too much to say whilst looking at Jimmy. "I wanted to be there for you, you know? To support you through it and introduce you to our child but you refused to even speak to me. Like, what the fuck Jim? A letter?! I had no choice but to tell you about my pregnancy through letters because you gave me no other choice but you wouldn't even give me the decency of trying to break up with me in person?" You tried to stay calm to not disturb Tyler but you were hurt and raised your voice slightly.

You lifted your head to look at Jimmy when you heard him groan, "Shit, I'm so fucking sorry y/n. I fucked everything so badly with you and our child." Jimmy placed his head in his hands, "Wait, you said 'trying to break up'?" He lifted his head in question with tears in his eyes, pulling at your heartstrings. You nodded, "I did." He looked at you with such lost confusion that you rolled your eyes, "What? You thought I was going to let you break up with me from prison through a letter? Absolutely not."

"So... We are still technically together then?" He questions with a hopeful look, his eyes wide. You smile, "technically yes, but we aren't just going to go back to normal. If you still want this, us, then you'll have to make it up to me for your stupidity." Jimmy nods happily with a smile before looking down at your son. "I'll make it up to you, both of you. I promise."

Jimmy already looked besotted with Tyler, "he's a spit of you, isn't he?" You question with a smile. Jimmy nods, "a proper mini-me." He whispers as he places his finger between Tyler's, and grins proudly when Tyler grips them back. You smile down at the pair, feeling overwhelmed and happy.

Twenty minutes later, Tyler is fed and down for a nap in your arms happily. Jimmy is sitting beside you on the couch reading each of the letters you sent him from the beginng, saying he didn't want to waste any time and be caught up with everything he missed so he could adjust to being home and a father. You nodded and just simply watched, answering any questions he had or commenting on certain parts for further clarity. All while you had your head on his shoulder.

After much inner turmoil and encouragement from you, Jimmy placed his arm around your shoulder and hugged you and your son whilst reading. Eventually, his parents came by to see you all, to which you were all overcome with emotions and cried together whilst laughing at how ridiculous you all looked. Jimmy refused to move from either of your or Tyler's sides the whole time. And for the first time in almost a year, you finally felt content and not alone.

[thenwethrowitonthefire]

Hiii i'm sorry if i'm intruding on the conversation by asking this question but i'd love to hear your take on ride 'em cowboy! :] I love that song (as i do all of lil beethoven, haha) and i'm really interested in what you have to say about it (i love going through your answers to these sparks asks by the way, and i definitely relate to the feeling of wanting to write entire essays about particular songs)

Hi friend! 😁 Wow it's such a treat that people have been enjoying reading this stuff! Thanks for the ask! (And thanks Sparks-anon, you started this! I hope you will enjoy this answer as well.)

Okay. RIDE 'EM COWBOY. They had NO REASON* to go this hard with this song. (*They had every reason - this is Sparks and this is Lil' Beethoven.)

What I think cuts so hard with this song is that the majority of the song is comprised of constantly flipping the switch from praise to disdain, from favour to rejection, from inclusion to exclusion - it's a total fall from grace, it's someone flopping completely, losing it all. Every phrase crafted to hit as hard as it can, but in a slightly different way every time, cutting deeper with every line. Starting relatively simple and straightforward with the lines "They laughed with me, then laughed at me", then building with every new line, and later in the song getting more metaphorical and it's even outright violent. (Ron *really* knows how to heighten how emotionally brutal certain experiences are and knows how to cut deep into that. A true master of words.)

…And then the song says, fuck that!! This will not be my defeat! “Ride ‘em cowboy, ride ‘em//I got thrown again//Ride ‘em cowboy, ride ‘em//Get back on again”

There's many ways one could perceive those lines. It can be a “keep going despite it all”, “keep going to spite them all”, a simple “try again”, and even “just go on with your life and let them talk”, or whatever else someone needs to hear to keep them going. (Heck, if someone were to say “ride 'em cowboy” means "fuck the haters", or "fuck it - we ball", I'd call that valid, too.)

A part of this song that struck me immediately early on in my Sparks journey was “From great to good// From good to fair//To barely pass//Stay after class”. I hadn't been out of highschool that long at that point and I'd been a “gifted student” who in the end was really depressed and barely passed. I hadn't really recovered yet from how defeated that had left me feeling. So these lines were immediately my new friends. And since then my love for this song has only deepened more and more over time. I've stomped into my uni building with Ride ‘Em Cowboy blasting on my headphones countless times, on the good days and the bad. It honestly was really good at helping me deal with the pressure of having been one of four non-males in a male dominated field, often being underestimated or expected to prove myself.

“It's not your day//It's not your week//It's not your month//It's not your year” Lyric status: SICK ✧⁠\⁠(⁠>⁠o⁠<⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠✧

I don't live that life anymore, but obviously there are always times in life when this song is applicable all over again. One could see it as a ruthless acknowledgement of the fickleness of people's favour and opinions (also people's opinions of themselves, I might add), and the fickleness of perceived success. And it's a strong reminder to not fall victim to it.

Instrumentally it's absolutely striking and it's such a powerhouse of a song, you don't need to be currently living it to keep loving the hell out of it. Something that I find really cool about this song as well is that when there's words, abbreviations, sayings, or references in it that you're unfamiliar with (as was the case for me as a non-American non-native English speaker) or if you don't know French (my highschool French was enough for this one and I'm a huge fan of “From open door//To merde, alors”), it doesn't make you miss out on the meaning, but you can look all that stuff up and get hit in the face by this song all over again and with extra force.

I only looked up all the abbreviations I was not familiar with earlier this year, and I got to say… “BMOC//Then MIA”, Big Man On Campus, then Missing In Action. Dangit Ron. *Chef's kiss*

…But still, the line to potentially win it all?

"Olé, then gored"

[aelinschild]

Colorado

Main Masterlist || Other One-shots

My apologies for getting this out so late in the day, and for how short it is. I spent over six hours writing essay's and I was not in the mood for more writing, alas, here we are.

SYNOPSIS: Inspired by Colorado by Reneé Rapp; Aelin's engagement is suffocating, maybe a trip away will help? WORDCOUNT: 3.3k WARNINGS: Swearing, domestic argument, innuendos, alcohol consumption

If Aelin had known the slamming front door was the beginning of the end, she would have left before her fiance walked in. 

The door crashed into the wall, making her jump from where she was standing before the sink, cleaning up the dinner dishes. The dinner, which had gone cold hours ago. The dinner, which had tasted like ash while she ate it alone. Like every other night this week. 

“Aelin? Where are you.” Sam’s voice ricocheted around the walls of their home. 

He’s always been loud, but at this moment his voice is grating. She can feel every muscle in her body, the way each is tensed up, ready to spring away. His heavy footsteps echo towards her. She can tell he didn't take his shoes off, and she's immediately more angry. 

Setting the bowl that she was just scrubbing gently into the soapy water, she mechanically turns to dry her hands off as Sam enters the kitchen. 

Sam, her fiance. Who was the light of her life, her highschool sweetheart. Ever since they began dating five years ago, they were told they made a beautiful couple. That they'd have gorgeous babies – which never failed to weird Aelin out – and that they were perfect for eachother. He was everything to her. He hung the moon and the stars when they were children. Spoiled her like a princess when they were teens. Romanced her like a proper gentleman as adults. He was the wise choice, and he was the choice she had made. 

Now, five years later – and two years into their engagement – Aelin was more than sure she’d been fucking lied to about ‘wise’ choices. 

“Good gods woman, did you not hear me calling you?” He demands, temper running already. 

“I did.” Aelin responded flatly, no need to respond emotionally, she thought to herself. 

He stared at her from the hallway, and she just continued to towel her hands off. 

“Dinner’s gone cold. But I made the roast your mother gave me the recipe for. I’m-” 

“Look at me when you speak to me, don't be disrespectful.” Sam interrupted. 

It was a tense moment before Aelin snapped.

“Disrespectful?” She barked out. “Disrespectful. Fucking unreal Sam.” 

“Watch it.” He snaps.

“Me? Are you being serious?” She had promised herself she wouldn't start a fight tonight, like every other night, but she couldn't help but rise to his challenge. “You come home late, for the fourth night this week, and youre already pissy? After I cook your fucking dinner? Not to mention stay home all day cleaning this godsdamned house!” 

He slams his hands down onto the table, making Aelin jump. “Do not raise your voice to me, Aelin!”

“Why?” She shouts back. “Does it make you feel like less of a man?” She shouldn't argue with him. Not because it's improper for a finacee to act like this, but because she honestly doesn't care for Sam’s pettiness. For any of this actually. 

Their engagement had been slowly draining of the joy it once was. Aelin would often imagine watching her future swirl down the drain of a sink. Possibilities and experiences forever gone, mixed in with ruddy water. 

He stood up to his full height. Taller than Aelin, yes, but not as intimidating as it used to be when she was younger. “This is fucking ridiculous.” He growled out, stalking closer. “You have no right to speak to me that way!”

Aelin stood stock-still. In retrospect, she would come to realise that this was the culminating moment. This was where all the years that she had silently suffered, gone along as Sam’s arm candy in hopes of the affection she so greatly craved, would peak. 

The tension in the room diffused, Sam’s chest still rose and fell abruptly with harsh breaths, contained words that were poised and ready. Venomous. 

But Aelin had rescinded. 

Turning her back to Sam and hanging the tea towel back on the oven door, she made her way out of the kitchen. As best as she could, she avoided his body. Looming in that doorway. Never again…

“Where do you think you're going?” She kept walking. The distance between them stretches with each step. “Aelin. Aelin! Answer me right now!” 

She felt him behind her, but he was nothing more than a ghost of her past. It is fascinating how quickly her feelings changed. Her rage upon his entry. The tidal wave of hurt, drowning her. And when it released her, there was no more. No more anything, especially feeling. 

Grabbing her corduroy jacket and shucking that on, then crouching down to slide her feet into her boots. Sam was still at her back, but he made no move to touch her. Good, she thought. Might rip his arm off if he did. 

Her mind was heavy, like wading through sand. If her fiance was speaking, she heard nothing. In her final moments in this house, she grabbed her worn leather purse – a gift from Sam actually – and moved to the door. 

If Sam’s yelling in the kitchen had been the crescendo of their tumultuous relationship, her hand on the doorknob were the final moments. The music of their bond falling, slowly, so slow…

Stepping out of the front door without so much as a goodbye, Aelin walked away. From her partner. From her home. From her life. And in the chilly evening air, with families cradled around each other, individuals enroute home. The seasons ever slowly changing, a door shutting punctuated the song of a relationship. 

I think my life might be better if I lived in colorado

-

The shuttle bus from Denver is cold and quiet. 

Similar to the red-eye plane she booked on a whim. Empty and cavernous. 

It'll be a little after two in the afternoon when Aelin arrives in Boulder, Colorado. Then from the shuttle station, there should be an Uber ready to take her to her hotel room. Where she’ll stay for three nights. There's no family of hers to speak of in Colorado, but it feels liberating to be here. 

Nothing to weigh her down, nothing to do, no one she has to be. 

From the time the door shut to Sam’s house, she had booked the cheapest flight to Denver. Then she was on call with an online teller to organise a one-way ticket for the shuttle. Next up was a hotel room, the cheapest one possible. 

And just like that she had wiped her hands of her fiance. 

The bus creaks under her, disturbing the gentle humming noise of the wheels on pavement. Aelin’s head is resting on the window, and she watches the scenery dart past. It is beautiful here. A myriad of colours attract her eyes to different points. 

Seated at the back of the bus, dressed in the clothes she left her–Sam’s house nearly a day ago, she feels at peace. She hadn't spent much time ruminating on her now broken off engagement. She doesn't even wonder if Sam has. 

Sam and the chip on his shoulder. 

If anything, she’s hopeful. Not exactly excited, but… ready. 

Liberated

-

The bell above the liquor store door dings. A nice and friendly chime. Similar to the people of Boulder, as she had found. 

Nodding to the cashier, an elderly man who looks up at the sound of the door, she wanders over to the wine section. Running her finger along the glass casing until she finds the Chardonnay. Eleven dollars. A memory pops up, unbidden; Sam and her sharing a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc. He didn't like the dryness of the Chardonnay, though he most likely would have been able to tell the difference if it was before him.

But Chardonnay was Aelin’s favourite, and hundreds of kilometres away from where she was yesterday, she felt like it was time to grasp onto those favourites.

A slow hum makes its way out as Aelin grabs her bottle and wanders over to the ragister. Quickly paying with a twenty dollar bill, she leaves the excess in the tip jar. Her silent happiness overflowing, she feels that it's right to give a little. The elderly man looks up, crows feet near his eyes wrinkling up, and smile beaming. It fills her heart a little more. 

Leaving the store with a bottle of wine, Aelin walks through the city. Bustling with college kids and families. She walks with no direction in mind. It doesn't take long before her thoughts round back to Sam, but it's not anger or sadness. It's not really anything. It doesn't matter, and that is what should be most worrying. This feeling–it's worrisome only in that it means the relationship was over before she left. 

Leaves cascade slowly down, twirling and dancing in the wind as Aelin walks. Eventually spotting a park bench near an artificial lake. It's a little ways off the path, giving her more privacy for her musing. 

Once situated on the slightly wet bench, she pulls her phone from her purse. 31 missed calls, 145 new messages. All from Sam. 

Without a moment of hesitation, she stands up, walks to the edge of the lake, and tosses her phone in. It makes a plunk noise before sinking. 

Wandering back to the bench, she twists the top off the Chardonnay and takes a large swig. 

- 

I think my life might be better if I lived in colorado

Sit around and get high, sippin' some white wine out the bottle

I throw my phone into a lake

And watch it sink to a better place, down at the bottom

I think my life might be better if I lived in Colorado

-

Out of pure boredom that evening, Aelin makes another trek through the city. It's exceptionally walkable, and she finds the nightlife is teeming. Walking past flashing lights with vibrant hues of purples and blues. Right next to the cacophony of colour is a dive bar. The yellowed walls and cosy lighting is much more comforting than the reckless abandon of colour currently, and Aelin moves herself in that direction. 

Inside the bar is warm, homely. With a random array of stools and chairs decorated in varying muted colour, and once wooden linoleum floors scratched down by scuff marks. Nobody pays her any mind and she walks over to the wrap-around bar, still a little light on her feet from the entire bottle of Chardonnay. There's a low hum of chatter, punctuated by a gruff laugh or shrill chatter every now and then, and Aelin seats herself at the bar. 

There's no reason for being here really. The atmosphere is comforting, like warm laundry fresh out of the dryer. And so she stays. She orders a frilly cocktail because why not, and just sits. 

While tracing the wood grain of the counter, Aelin misses the woman sizing her up from another table. The woman looks at Aelin, and slowly, elegantly, makes her way over to the bar. 

A screech of a stool pulls Aelin out of her reverie. Her hands snap to the edge of the counter, bracing. And her head jerks towards the noise.

Seated next to her is a stunning woman, if she could be limited by that word. Glossy dark hair, with glowing skin. Emerald eyes trace Aelin’s own features. Alien catalogues the diamond choker around the woman's neck. It looks like an expensive collar. 

“So, you gonna introduce yourself?” The woman drawls, her voice as luxurious as her. 

“I'm sorry?”

“No need,” And she smiles and the rhetorical. “So, tell me your name. And what you're doing in a place like this.” 

Aelin is slightly baffled at the woman's forwardness, but embraces it because why not.

“Aelin. My name’s Aelin.”

“Rolls right off the tongue, doesn't it Aelin.” She winks at her. “Well, I'm Lysandra. And it is my absolute pleasure to make your acquaintance.” 

Aelin’s drink is dropped off between the two women, and Lysandra and her both back up from where they had leaned into the conversation. The drink is a blue so deep Aelin wonders if she should get her blood tested afterwards. 

“Now, Aelin, do tell me what was making you look so sad up over here.” Lysandra asks after cataloguing her drink. She must also notice Aelin’s bafflement at the obscure colour of the beverage and laughs, like tinkling bells. “Don't worry about the colour, I've drank myself under the table with those and was still able to make my pilates class the next morning.” 

Aelin laughs with her and takes a sip, her face pinching at the bitterness before returning Lysandra’s question. “Running away from problems–well, it's not really a problem anymore. I guess the running worked?” Her eyebrows cinch up, eyes darting around. Is it a problem anymore? Should I be telling a stranger about my estranged fiance?

“Ah, I knew you would be interesting.” Lysandra nods to herself, resituating herself on her stool as iff she's readying herself to talk, or maybe interrogate. 

“Interesting?” 

“Yeah. you looked all pensive and sad, and you’re obviously very gorgeous, so I knew something was up, yknow?”

“Pensive. Nice” 

“Moody?” 

“I'll stick with pensive,” Aelin laughs A real, true laugh.

Lysandra smiles.

“Do you often come up to pensive girls and ask about them?” Taking a sip of the toxic blue drink, and turning more fully towards the other woman. 

“Kindred spirits.” She answers. 

“Oh? Do tell.”

“What is there to say, I'm divorced, rich, and absolutely wonderful.” She waves her hand dramatically in the air for emphasis. Aelin snorts.

“Don't mock me,” She gasps, eyes lighting with fake ire. 

“Please, I’m newly single, or whatever you become after running from your fiance,” Aelin rolls her eyes. 

“Ah, church bells were a no-go then? I've always found those things exceptionally irritating. Threw a fit when I found out I was to be married in a church.” 

“‘To be married’? What kind of situation was this exactly?” Leaning forward on her elbows, closer to Lysandra, Aelin eyes the woman. 

With a shrug of her delicate shoulders, Lysanra answers. “Silly little arrangement, for a silly little man who couldn't woo a worm if he tried.” She scoffs, “Got out of that fast, and got some fun trinkets to repair my obviously damaged emotional state.” 

“Might as well,” murmurs Aelin. 

-

'Cause maybe there I'd like myself

And meet some young ex-wife

We'd start a brand new life

And never be lonely

-

Many drinks later, Aelin and Lysandra are leaning up against the battered karaoke machine, swaying but trying their best to belt out lyrics to every Taylor Swift song that comes up. Both women are infected with giggles, and  they find joy in each other's presence. Kindred spirits, Lysandra had said. Kindred spirits indeed. 

Both of the women continue their performance, and by now the entire bar is in on it. Older couples laughing and clapping at the joy of the two women. Chairs are pushed aside, stools stacked elsewhere. And people dance. Freely and joyfully, to the butchered songs. But the dive is so warm, it surrounds Aelin’s heart in a protective case, and Sam, all the hurt, the pain of the lonely nights spent waiting. The arguments. The frustration–it floats away. 

As the song comes to an end, both Lysandra and Aelin lean on each other for support as their laughter has them doubling over. And they make their way away from the wretched machine to go sit. Aelin can feel her smile stretching so wide. She feels elation spilling from every pore. Lysandra was at her heels, but without realising, she drifted over to another group to quickly chat, Aelin continued to walk towards a table. 

In her haze of joy, she doesn't hear the door open, or masculine voices laughing at some joke. 

She turns to tell Lysandra something funny that just came to her mind, and when she realises she is not there, she abruptly stops. 

One moment, Aelin’s standing wondering where the hell Lysandra went, then next she's falling to the ground. She watches in slow motion as the floor appears, closer and closer, before she feels a tight grip snake around her and right her body. 

Her current drink sploshes onto the floor from the change in position, then onto her saviours shirt when she is righted. When she finally is standing again, she has found herself staring at what must be someone's chest. Someone's chest, decorated with a white button up, that now has artfully displayed splashes of toxic blue. 

Her head jerks up, and up, before she settles on the man's face, which is set in distress. 

His hair is what catches her attention first. In her slightly-over-tipsy haze, she thinks his hair must be silver. Not an aged silver, but a fairytale silver. Then it's his strong jaw, with a light stubble that had grown over the day. Next are his emerald eyes. Like Lys, but lighter, also fairytale-esque. Then it's his beautifully groomed eyebrows, strong nose, the full lips that are moving so sensually. Moving, moving…

“Are you alright?” Handsome stranger asks.

“Yeah,” Aelin sighs out, still tracing his face, down his jaw, to the column of his throat where a tattoo peaks out. 

“Here,” He says, but Aelin’s truly not paying attention. Maybe she had more to drink than she thought. She snorts. “... How about you go sit over here, yeah?”

She allows handsome stranger man to guide her to a chair, and when he helps her into the seat, lest she fall off, she catches Lysandra's eye from across the bar. She winks at Aelin. 

It is in that moment that Aelin blinks back into reality. 

“Ohmygosh! Your shirt!” Panicked, she realises the crisp white dress shirt is stained with her blue drink. Reaching around him for a napkin off the table, she starts rubbing all over his stomach to try and get the stain out. It's not working, and she just presses harder into his tense abdomen. 

“Hey, wait. Stop…” He grabs hold of her writs, effectively pausing her smearing of the blue liquid all over his abs. “I really dont think that's helping.” He smirks. 

“Oh my gods, I am genuinely so sorry. I'm really not that clumsy, oh I cant believe ive ruined your shirt!” 

“Its okay, don't wor-” She interrupts him. 

“No! Seriously, I'm so sorry, please let me buy you a new one, or dry clean it, or whatever!”

He just laughs. His lips formed a gentle smile. “How about your name for starters?” 

“Im Aelin, and I will find the best dry-” She gets interrupted by him this time. 

“How about a date, Aelin?”

She's still in shock. This was not where she thought this was going. This poor man's shirt. “A date?” She squeaks out. 

He nods. “Yeah. A date. You're beautiful, and this was kindof funny, so you can repay me with a date, if you are interested?”

Aelin stares at the beautiful man, with silvery hair and emerald eyes. Tattoos creeping like ivy. 

“Your name?” She requests. “What is your name?”

“Rowan.”

“It’s a date, then, Rowan.” 

-

And I'll admit, it would be nice

To meet some guy who's not my type

And move to Boulder

- 

Dear Sam, 

I used to think that I wanted to live up to your unrealistic expectations. I thought I could get used to being your pretty trophy wife, who would wait at your beck and call. But I can't. Over my trip, it has become painfully evident to me that we were not meant to be. I've met myself here, and I can't go back to what it has been. I wish you good luck in finding someone who will put up with you. 

No longer yours, 

Aelin 

-

'Cause maybe there I'd like myself

Work on my mental health

Might even feel compelled

To finally let go

I think my life might be better if I lived in Colorado

Thank you so much for reading!! As always; like, reblogs, and comments are so incredibly appreciated! Have an amazing day!

Inspired by the Song Colorado by Renee Rapp

[comradeboyhalo]

Okay—you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to..! But I’m actually SO curious on your essay thoughts of q!Bad in 4halo fics. Because (I think) it’s kind of rare that q!Bad is depicted accurately in.. most qsmp ship fics. And I feel like q!Bad always becomes.. obsessed with romance with q!Forever in many 4halo fics?? Or super open + emotionally stable?? I don’t know how to explain it, but that’s why I’m curious of your thoughts (because I’ve read your fics and 100% trust your characterizations, especially of BBH cubitos <3)

hihi always down to ramble. and i agree, a lot of bad's flaws are smoothed over in 4halo fics, which makes him incredibly ooc. also, i dont think that these mischaracterizations are necessarily bad, i understand that in fluff fics (or angst fics, which im guilty of) sometimes theres no room in tone to fully capture all of q!bad's complexities. but that doesn't mean i cant have some gripes!

i dont think this is exclusive to 4halo, but 4halo is also bad's current biggest ship, so a lot of it just happens to fall on it. but i really hate how fanon!bad gets stripped down to a mere love interest who is just...very perfect in how he interacts with romance. he wants to go on cute dates, he confesses in a very sweet way. he is kind and nice and a little insecure, and is just so boring. its very much reminiscent of old skephalo fics, where bad is seen as "innocent" and then any other interesting trait of his gets stripped away. i also end up feeling im reading about a highschooler, when q!bad is 11k+ and cc!bad (obviously influential of his character) is in his late 20s.

again, i understand why people write 4halo on cute dates and first kisses. thats what fanfic is for! but i cant help but see the entirety of the ao3 page full of these very...allo-typical romance plots and think "...he would not fucking say that." q!bad is messy as fuck! if you don't interpret him as arospec, then hes at the very least repressed, and not in a cute YA romance way. a 1k fic of pining that ends in a nice love confession just doesnt convince me im sorry!

and then there's the blue diamond obstacle that gets in the way of 4halo monogamy....skeppy. again, i get why most 4halo shippers arent going to mention him, cause theyre just not into anything skephalo. i cant blame them for that. but im a master nitpicker, so ill still nitpick cause this is my blog. bad brushing over skeppy is ooc. bad acting as if skeppy is in the past is ooc. bad pursuing any form of relationship without including skeppy is ooc. bad choosing any other person but skeppy to be his #1 is ooc. and yeah it sucks for shipping if you dislike q!skephalo, but thats how it is and its not changing. and also any fics that push bad to "move on" from skeppy is just ??? not only is that his soulmate across lifetimes, but skeppy isnt dead? hes just not on the island? help??? bad has two hands, but one hand will always hold skeppy's and he's made that abundantly clear many times.

anyways im also not immune to q!bad butchering in 4halo fics! ill admit that, in writing the hanahaki au, i couldn't really find time to fit a lot of q!bad's humor into it, and he ended up more openly angsty and sad and vulnerable then he really is, or would ever be. so i totally get it, and im fine if other qbad viewers despise how he's written in it. however i will stand by the fact that q4halo would never pursue a traditional relationship together, and i chose the ending to be ambiguous because thats how i believe their relationship (and feelings) are: ambiguous. that's why, to me, 4halo is so good. i don't want to read about them confessing their feelings. i want to read about how their relationship is an undefined, confusing mess that will never be defined, and im just so surprised that there aren't more fics like that out there.

[saintescuderia]

An ode to a fallen comrade, my laptop.

I’m weirdly sentimental when it comes to my laptops. I say this but I’ve only ever had two. My first was a chunk old silver MacBook Pro that was a gift from my father. It saw me all the way through those formative highschool years. I even used it at school. It was the laptop I used to give Tommy Bellamy a copy of channel.ORANGE with the fact that this version of Mac actually still had USB ports. And humanity also still used USBs. Not to mention the CD port in which I actually burnt music onto plain discs and made mixtapes for people.

I wrote countless stories on that laptop. It was where I wrote my 120k Avengers fanfiction, something I started when I was 14. Four years later and in my final year of school, I had a run of waking up at 5am to write. Never mind the fact that I was waking up at 5am to write a fic about Frank Ocean.

That laptop went through it all with me. Like old men with their cars, I named it. Stanley. Stanley was covered with homemade stickers that summed up the formative youth of my teenage years. A picture of Kendrick Lamar with his signature, a SAVE FERRIS collage, a photo of Chandler Bing (season 1), the screen card of Hugo Stiglitz from Tarantino’s Inglorious Basterds. And Frank Ocean, of course.

Stanley saw me through it all… until university where it promptly died. Or, ‘Apple died’ in which it just kept overheating, the battery life was horrible and I saw more circle spins of death in the last two weeks of use than I had in the last two years. Suffice, to say, it was time for an upgrade.

So I got another MacBook. His name was Bernie Mac which I thought clever and my first wallpaper was, indeed, a photo of the comedian. It was sleeker, didn’t have USB ports and in some odd and unexplainable way, didn’t seem as good as Stanley. Never mind that it was faster, thinner and had an actually life of a battery. I hated the keyboard, the darker colour and the fact that Bernie Mac just wasn’t Stanley.

Only after writing several novels - and one collection of poetry - creating various mixtapes (with a CD extension!), editing films, binging series and the countless PDFs I read and the essays I wrote of the two (and a half) degrees that this laptop went through did it finally die.

It’s funny. I’m not emotional. I won’t lie and say to you that the 18 year old who had to put Stanley down and admit defeat was emotional. So much so that she refused to trade it in and instead has it sat on her bookshelf beside a coffee table book on writers. In a way, that very first MacBook serves as a reminder of all the things I realised I could do. I could be a writer.

Now, this laptop before me, the one that refuses to turn on, might not hold as much sentimental weight but it’s still a nice marker of times gone by. It travelled with me across countries and it did get me through those incredibly painful and awkward years of your early 20s.

I went through lockdown with it.

What’s more, I watched my first ever F1 race on it.

So I won’t let the frustrations of the end get to me. The fact that I had to walk around with a charger because 100% battery didn’t mean anything. Or the fact that it would overheat and kick the fan into overdrive and it sounded like an airplane. Or the fact that it’s died when I decided to start becoming a little more serious with this ‘I want to be a writer’ business and now I have to type on my iPad like I’m Toto Wolff in Drive to Survive. Maybe that will make this whole March 30 Day challenge all the more memorable - I did it despite the fact that my laptop literally fucking died after three days! What’s more than that though the three days into this, it died literally the day before university starts.

It’s okay, though. I’ve already ordered another laptop from Apple that should be coming next week. And maybe that’s just what I need; a fresh start with a fresh laptop to bring in the next chapter of adventures. Even though you can still trust that the first song that’ll play from that yet-to-be-named MacBook is finna be Pyramids.

[reese-is-dum]

life updates

still can't drive

a pedo followed me on tiktok (I told him he was a fucking weird and he waved to me in DMS LITERALLY CRYING)

i'm writing an essay abt huck finn and i don't think i'm doing it write

some lady at work assumed i was in highschool and friends with her kid because i have the same hair dye color and split as them

my boyfriend is still perfect

saw 2 someones from my single lacrosse season

listening to will wood

[webginz]

listen im not anti intellectualism or anything like that, but i am a high school dropout. and i dont understand for the life of me whyyy i have to finish highschool and take a bunch of college classes unrelated to my chosen thang in order to get pro baking classes. like i wanna learn how to frost cakes and make creme brulee. why do i have to also know history and spanish and how to write an essay. SORRY.

AND I KNOWWWWWW that i can just teach myself and take online courses or something BUT im in america and here if you dont have a degree youre fucked. have you seen the job crisis here. people with multiple degrees and tons of experience are being turned down. you think a dropout whos self taught could get that job?!?!?

i hate school, i hate life. i just wanna make cupcakes

[chaifootsteps]

hello out of pure curiosity from reading various things in your blog I am beginning to watch helluva boss (I preferred it's pilot over hazbin when they came out years ago) and wow it's hollow as shit lol

Like I'm only on episode 2 but even the first episode just had. Nothing but bad taste in jokes and offensive things to say and didn't go anywhere

Cos I mean plot wise. Moxxie is having a clashing of morals about killing people vs letting a happy family exist (where this came from I have No idea but ok whatever) and he has a moment of 'yeah ok I'll enact justice and do it my way so I don't feel bad about just blatantly ruining a family' and then sees the police blow up the remainder of the house and just. Nothing comes from it. Its just haha edgy terrible shit for the sake of it. This is not good writing

I'm aware I'm not saying anything new about this and smarter people than me have critiqued this better than I can but seriously someone must be so fucking dense to see this and think that's a story where anything happens, I dread to think what Viv's highschool essays were like if she can't write for shit like this

This, all of this. And you could make the argument that it was just the first episode, the show was still trying to find its feet, but we're well into season 2 now and the whole thing's still a cold wet mess.

Vivzie thought it was a good idea to do a 180 and make Stolas and Blitzo childhood friends when that apparently wasn't the original plan, and there's no saving a story from a showrunner who thinks that's how this works.

[ode2rin]

hi! i love you (too)! i am indeed here with my questions after your ask....so buckle up.😁

okay firstly. PLEASE TELL ME IF I NEED CALCULUS FOR PSYCHOLOGY BC IM LITERALLY GOINF TO CRY. i know the neuroscience part of psych is completely different than the research parts of it and im not sure if that's the one you take.....but is it super calculation related or is it mostly subjective 🧐

how is psychology in general??? like what do you mostly learn?? is it stats or parts of the brain or maybe you focus on experiements??

what kinds of assignments do you get? im sure the work is completely different from my level so im sorry if this is a hard one to answer BUT IM SO CURIOUS HELP.

last one! (for now...) what's your favorite thing(s) you've learnt from psych so far?😇please do share because i will go insane learning anything new

HELP IMSORRY IT'S SUCH A LONG ASK BUT IM TOO CURIOUS FOR MY OWN GOOD

you are so lucky i love you despite slandering rin ANYWAY HERE IT GOES

i'm relatively good (i like to believe so) w some maths but i fucking suck at calculus so i understand the need to ask that xD,, safe to say that the last time i saw that bitch was back in highschool so nope! no calculus here (psych stats and some natural science subjects will be your enemy tho if you really loathe calculations and such but we'll get more on that later!)

regarding if it's heavy w calculations, it depends! in my uni, there are 2 tracks for this bachelor's, either you go arts or science (i'm in this) BA psych is basically leaning more on humanities and BS psych have science units (physics, biochem, anaphysio). both of them still have the core majors of psych such as abnormal psych, theories of personality, and that includes: psychology stats (sorry bub you can't escape her she's a persistent one)

psychology stats is imperative in both tracks because psychology is heavy in research. and stats is gravely used in them.

also if you're interested more on going law afterwards, BA will cater your interests more and that even saves you from these heavy sciences (they're the bane of my existence)

how is psychology in general??? like what do you mostly learn?? is it stats or parts of the brain or maybe you focus on experiements??

psych is grounded on physiology and philosophy. if i were to describe it, it's having both of the best worlds if you love humanities and arts but still love to gain some science on the side. we def learn about the brain! not only anatomically but also theoretically speaking. the brain is vast world of study, i kid you not. it's an enigma of some sorts, it's incredible and terrifying at the same time. and i wouldn't really call it as a study of "brain" but it's actually all about studying behavior in general. regarding experiments, do you mean those lab ones? for sure you'll have them if you're in the track that i'm in but basically the "experiment" side of this field is all about gathering data using scientific methods.

what kinds of assignments do you get? im sure the work is completely different from my level so im sorry if this is a hard one to answer BUT IM SO CURIOUS HELP.

I SO LOVE THIS QUESTION IT ALLOWS ME TO GEEK OUT for now, in my majors (most of them are introductory to complex psych) most of my assignments are essays and case studies. also, this program will need you to TALK in presentations, recits (some of my profs uses socratic method and they sometimes let students argue abt diagnosis). if you're not so good with talking my dearest puri, dw that's not really much of a problem! with writing though, you will need A LOT of it (which i am certain you'll be killing it in this aspect so)

also don't mind those side assignments and projects i rant about here in this app (example: the goddamn film) those are my minors !

last one! (for now...) what's your favorite thing(s) you've learnt from psych so far?😇please do share because i will go insane learning anything new

there's no day in psych that's not interesting. first of all, i love that we could be in a coffee shop talking about traumas and mental illnesses and none of us are batting an eyelash even tho we probably sound fucking unhinged to those around us xD my most favorite thing here apart from what i learn intellectually, is how profound empathy runs in this field.

once you started in psych, it's hard to see people in a singular perspective. and it's not a bad thing per se, it just makes your interpersonal relationships a little bit more complex to navigate because you now have this understanding of the implications of how people behave. and of course, it goes without saying that this understanding shouldn't be an excuse nor a justification, but whether you like it or not, it gives you an explanation of some sort.

also, being in psych automatically includes you in the movement. as difficult as it is to admit, the issue of mental health is still more of a movement than an obvious problem. i hate that but yeah

(the thing i don't like about it is that it's heavy on reading (oh my god), and as someone who enjoys reading for pleasure, reading these academic volumes is a whole different experience. but that's just me hehehe)

I GOT A BIT CARRIED AWAY OH MY GOD i hope this somehow helps huhu feel free to ask more and i'll do my best w answering them!!