#but i think sunny will keep it alive because he is by nature a daydreamer

[polaroid-petals]

Got a really strong idea for Stranger existentialism post-good ending and that means that the first thing I do is write an AO3 summary

[sissytobitch10seconds]

Opium Lidded Daydreams

Fandom: Shadow and Bone (TV), Grishaverse: Six of Crows Summary: A lot of things have happened to him during his life, this has been one of the best. He thinks that he deserves it after all of the pain that he has had to endure. It's also where he hardens his heart to never care for others. Warnings: Trans characters, canon-typical violence and betrayal, and canon deaths Word Count: 4,628 Ship(s): Kaz Brekker & Poppy Cox

Archive link!

A/N: I very recently fell in love with the idea of Kaz being trans since he has canonically did change his name and totally reinvent himself. I really loved Poppy and the implied backstory with them as well, so I decided that I was going to write something with it! I did take the backstory more from the book than I did the show for Kaz but then things kind of veer to the middle so that I can have Poppy in there since she doesn't show up in the book. I hope that makes sense and feel free to ask me clarifying questions if it doesn't! Stay sissy and bitchy everyone <3

Poppy Reitveld had many changes in her life.

The first had been long before she could remember. Her mother had been desperate for another child, her longing to care for and nurture not satisfied with their collection of animals and Poppy’s older brother. She had always been a sickly woman, so taking on a pregnancy had made her so sick that she was bedridden for a year when she conceived their first. Poppy had been informed that it was a massive sticking point for her parents, the first time that Jordie had ever seen them do anything more than tease each other. Her mother had gotten what she wanted, though, as she always had. A second child was conceived and she was just as sick the second time as she had been the first. She left Poppy with nothing more than the sunny memories of a delicate laugh and the reassuring kisses on the top of her head. She had never known what had really killed her mother, she was too young to be told at the time and there was no one to ask other than a weathered gravestone once she was. Just like that, Poppy was the daughter of only a windower and the sister of a half-orphan.

The second had been her father. She was still young when it happened, but old enough that she had far more cemented in her mind. The memories had stuck to the back of her teeth and her throat like the honey she was spoon fed when she had a cough, refusing to leave. She had been tucked away in the house and given the task of helping her brother cut the vegetables for their supper. She hadn’t been doing a very good job of it, but that was mostly because Jordie had wandered off to do whatever it was that boys at his age got up to. She had heard the shrieking and crying of someone in pain and had rushed out just in time for one of the farmhands to pick her up as though she weighed nothing. The thing that she remembered from her father’s death was the crushing weight of having to stay put, to wait until someone came to get her to tell her what had happened. Poppy remembered the blood stained ground where the seeds should have been and the burning, crackling smell of the plough as they destroyed it, thoroughly convinced it was bad luck. Just like that, Poppy an orphan and the sister of a foolish teenage boy.

The third one had led to the most pain, but only because of the slippery nature of it. She had been dressed up in the clothes that she always wore to mass, the ones that her father had assured her that her mother would have loved to see her in. Poppy hadn’t been so sure about it then, and she was definitely unsure of having to wear it again when she wasn’t being told why. She had blue ribbons woven into her hair to make her extra pretty before they were rushed through the streets of Ketterdam. Jordie had the money from selling their farm hidden away in his pocket. He had been siphoning it off for the room that they were renting and the food they needed to keep them alive. Poppy hadn’t wanted to leave the only home she had ever known, but she loved and trusted her brother, so she had gone along with it anyway. She had trusted Jordie, even after they came up the window of the house that should have been filled with people they trusted to find it completely empty. Just like that, Poppy was a penniless orphan and the sister of the most foolish boy on the streets.

The fourth was the worst thing that she had ever faced in her entire life, and with any luck it would remain that way until she peacefully died under a pile of her own gold. There had been sirens screaming through the air and coughing coming from the little nook under the stairs that they had taken refuge in after the money they had kept for their room had run out. Poppy hadn’t known what was happening when pox began to form in little welts all over her and her brother’s skin, nor had she been able to piece it out when her little body was overcome with the shaking, feverish hurt. The next thing that she could remember was the feeling of clammy, wet flash slipping over her fingertips as she tried to find purchase to locate her brother. The moment that she had found Jordie, it was clear that he wasn’t her brother anymore. Just like that, Poppy was alone and the name Reitveld had died.

The fifth was more of an abstract idea than a single event that had happened. Her body had begun to shift and change as she navigated her new life in the Barrel. Her face softened so she looked more like the sugar-coated memories of her mother instead of her brother and father. Her hips had begun to round, as well as her chest. She hadn’t been able to fit in the simple shirts that she stole from clotheslines and had to invest in not only a slip, but a corset to support herself. She hated the way that the constrictive garment fit on her, and she hated the way that she was spoken to even more. Her voice didn’t deepen the way that she had been expecting it to, which had left her uncomfortable and confused. It was more gravely than it had been before she had gotten sick, yet not in the way she had hoped. The changes were unwelcome and uncomfortable in a way that she didn’t have words to describe properly.

---

The Slat was the closest thing to a home that she had since her brother had sold the farm when she was nine. Her room was better described as a closet, but it had a bed and a basin that she could use to wash herself in private. She had a threadbare blanket and a pillow that could be better described as a stack of fabric, but they were hers. The lock on the door was shitty, so the only thing that she consistently left in her room was her spare set of clothes. Her coin pouch was always tucked next to her hip and buried beneath her skirts when she was working. She hated the skirts, but they got their purpose done when she wanted to obscure a revolver or dagger while out on the job.

Poppy had been wearing her singular pair of slacks since she hadn’t been working earlier that day. Not in the traditional sense, at least. She was almost always working on something since her mind and body wouldn’t let her rest unless she had some kind of purpose. Her purpose lately had become bettering the gang that she was involved with. While she was grateful to the Dregs and Per Haskell for keeping her off of the streets, she knew that times were changing and the old man was not. She was going to work to make the house less leaky and the gang more feared even if it killed her, not just for her but also because it would let her tear down a certain Emerald Palace that made her insides burn.

She had stopped by her room to change into something that would make her blend in more with the nightlife that she was going to be patrolling through that evening. She wasn’t looking forward to it, but she had done far more unpleasant and dehumanizing things until she was given a place within the gang. She knew that she always had the option of refusing a job if it was something she really didn’t feel like she could do. Per Haskell liked her and she could argue her way out of just about everything.

She shucked off her pants and then folded them neatly on the end of her bed. She reached down to tug on the hem of her chemise where it had bunched up underneath her corset. It reminded her of how uncomfortable she had been for the duration of her work, so she reached behind her for the bow she had tied with the laces. She undid it and then loosened the garment with well-practiced hands. Even the other women that worked for the Dregs had to help each other to get dressed the way that Poppy dressed, but the feeling of other people being in such a powerful place behind her made her stomach crawl.

She had been feeling uncomfortable with the form that her body had taken against her will since she woke up that morning. It had lessened a bit throughout the day as she had other things to take up that space in her mind, but it was always present. She half figured that she would always feel at least a little bit uncomfortable with her body and the idea of how her skin lay on top of her skeleton after everything that she had been through. Poppy hadn’t exactly grown up in the most stereotypical household, after all.

She needed more of the feminine wiles that she had long since learned to use to her advantage for the job that she was going to be on that evening. She was good at looking the part, distancing herself from the feelings that crept up from the bottom of her stomach and lodged in her throat.

Poppy carefully redid the laces on the back of her corset so that the garment was allowed to actually support her breasts instead of squishing them down so that she looked nearly flat again. She then tugged on her chemise to get it to lay properly before she grabbed the heavily pleated, full skirt from under her bed.

She undid the hook and eye on the back of the garment and then tossed it up over her head. Her arms went into the air to allow the waistband to fit over her chest before it naturally fell down to her waistline. Her nimble fingers then did the clasps up again so that it was secure around her body. She fidgeted with the waistband a little bit longer to make sure that it was seated properly and wouldn’t become uncomfortable. Then came the bodice.

The feeling of the pleats that came with shoving something as billowy as a chemise into something as tight as a bodice was one of Poppy’s least favorite when it came to clothing. It was better than wet rainwater dripping onto her skin, or the touch or another person when she wasn’t coated in layer after layer of protection, but it was still unpleasant.

She tugged the garment on over her chemise and then pulled at the delicately embroidered sleeves. When she had first started working with the Dregs she had barely anything, so she had to make all of the choices for what clothing she’d use for jobs such as her new assignment all at once. She had chosen a chemise with black work around the neck and cuffs so that it would both contrast against her white skin and bring out the darkness of her raven locks. The fact that the embroidery was also blockier in shape instead of the delicate, elegant swirl that the rest of the garments had held was merely a bonus.

She quickly did up the buttons on the front of the bodice so that it was hiding the majority of her corset and her chemise. It was fine for her to have it semi on display when she was wearing her heavy overcoat, giving mere glimpses to the people that passed her by. She hadn’t ever viewed the garment as something that was protecting what other people wanted but rather a way to change her shape and who she was entirely. She was playing a role that night though, so she had to look the part.

Her long black hair was pleated into an even braid that fell down her back as she searched for the iron pins that she had stashed underneath her bed after easily lifting them from a Mercher’s stall. Once she found them, she took the thick braid into her hair and then began to wind it around itself. She tucked the tail further into the swirl so that it wasn’t perceivable by people looking at it from behind her. She placed one of the pins into her mouth to open it before she shoved it into the bun and the hair stretching across the expanse of her head to hold it in place. She did that with all eight of her pins and then picked up the pretty flower barret that she had lifted the week after the pins. She figured that it would help the illusion that she was trying to set even if she felt apathetic at best towards such things.

She glanced her body over as she tugged her thick black gloves over her hands. She looked every bit the part that she needed to for her job, even if she was less than enthusiastic about having to do it. Her clothing was high quality fibers and weaves without being so pricey that someone would try to rob her. She didn’t need expensive makeups for the look she was going through either, the natural curves and hues of her face would do just fine.

Poppy tried to ignore the way that her stomach clenched at the thought. She had seen some of the other Dregs that looked as she did, but she was always more than they were. Her cheeks were rosier instead of having the stubble to shadow it like she so desperately wished for. Her nose was softer and her jawline blended too well into her neck. She was too soft, too delicate, not sharp and bitter like she wanted.

She was working to get there as quickly and efficiently as she could. She didn’t do anything halfway and she got what she wanted, no matter what was standing in her way. She may not have understood why the darkest part of her soul cried and begged for her to look like something that she never could, but it did and she was never one to refuse herself something like that. Power and money could buy her anything, so she harnessed her quick wit into a sharp tongue to make up for the softness of her body.

Tonight, though, the softness would give her the power that she needed.

She grasped her cane from where it had been leaning against the edge of the bed and slotted the birdhead perfectly into her palm. Her gloved fingers naturally wrapped around it and she subtly brushed her thumb along the underside of the beak in a nearly instinctual self-soothing gesture. She turned towards the door and walked out of her room, careful to lock it behind her by pulling out the tumblers after twisting them to the side. It may have seemed ridiculous to pick her own lock every time she wanted to come inside her room, but she just called it practice.

Poppy made her way down the steep stairs of the Slat until she was able to meet the man that she had been informed that she was going to be working with earlier that week when she got her orders. He was a tall Zemini man, short cropped hair and a soft yet angular face. There was a kind of in-betweenness that she wouldn’t quite let herself long for, but subconsciously knew that she wanted.

“Hello there,” the man smiled widely as he caught sight of her. His Kerch was clear and held little accent to it, but Poppy was still easily able to identify exactly where he haled from in Novyi Zem. He held his arm out for her and she begrudgingly took it. There was a reason that the bodice she had chosen had long sleeves and her chemise had even longer ones. Being a woman in a male-dominated space meant that she was more likely to be thrust into a role that required her to be touched and she didn’t want to refuse them. Taking more jobs and being easy to work with would make the boss more inclined to pass his business off to her when he finally kicked the bucket and would let her siphon away power from him while he lived.

“Good evening,” she replied curtly. She let her hand fall into the crevice of his arm but kept her body far enough away from him that they weren’t brushing up against each other. It was nice to have the excuse of a massive skirt when it came to that particular part of her job, she supposed. She would rather just not have to do it at all.

“What’s your name?” the man asked, his eyes still boring into the side of her head as they made their way out of the Slat and into the busy streets of Ketterdam. 

She huffed, the words on the edge of her tongue and yet still sounding so wrong when she said them, “You may call me Poppy.”

“Poppy’s a wonderful name,” he beamed so wide that she wanted to punch him in his mouth just to see how many teeth she could knock out.

“Then you can have it, I’ve never been particularly fond of it,” she replied, letting the poison drip from her mouth like it always did. They were still walking side by side, weaving easily through the groups of people like they were a young teenage couple on a stroll to some opera or play instead of two dangerous criminals that were going to be trying to take down a competitor for their boss.

There was a beat of silence and she heard the man take in a sharp breath before he blew it out slowly. He then said, “My name is Kaz.”

“That’s not a very Zemini name,” she replied curtly. She knew that they had to pretend to be making pleasant conversation with each other so that they could go unnoticed while trying to infiltrate the more dangerous parts of the Barrel, but she also detested it.

“I thought that it would be best to pick a Kerch name when I came here as a child,” Kaz replied. 

She turned and looked at him, scrutinizing his face for any kind of lie. It wouldn’t be the first time that someone had fed her a bunch of drivel about where they had come from or how tragic their pasts were to try and get closer to her. That was the main thing she hated about the body that she had grown into.

Instead of saying anything or trying to call him out on a bluff, she just turned her head back to the busy street and kept walking.

---

Missions came and went for Poppy, as they always had. Another change had occurred in her life, however, but this one seemed to be more pleasant than the other ones had been. Kaz was becoming a bit of a friend of hers.

She didn’t think that the other Dreg was at all suited for the life that he had fallen into. He was sweet and compassionate, and more than a little ignorant to the world around him. There had been more than one time where Poppy had to grab her dragger from where it was always hidden along her bodice so that she could protect him despite the fact that he carried a pistol on him at all times.

She hadn’t really known how to have friends before, she had been too young and too isolated on her farm when she was young enough to learn that skill. She didn’t make friends with the other Dregs because they were all far older than her and several of them had attempted to come onto her the first time that she had come out of her room dolled up. Kaz had never tried that on her, which she was eternally grateful for.

She often found herself sitting on his bed as he sang to himself, just enjoying his company. They ate together on most days and were paired up to go on missions and jobs more than they were with anyone else. They worked well together, especially when Kaz learned that Poppy didn’t like to be touched and liked being prodded about the same.

The moment of the sixth biggest change in her entire life came during one of those times. Poppy was sitting on the edge of Kaz’s bed, her head turned towards the window so that she could watch the flickering of the lamplight shining down on the passersby, people that were completely unaware of the sinisterness that ran deep within the veins of every person. She was wearing her chemise with her corset done up around her chest to push it down because she couldn’t tolerate the lump that it left when she got dressed that morning. It was the same reason that she had chosen her pants that day despite some of the work that she was told to do.

Kaz was perched on the little stool that he had for the vanity he had bought with the money he saved from working for the Dregs. Poppy didn’t understand why he would want something that expensive when he could have paid for something far more crucial to everyday life. She didn’t question him as she barely understood the minds of others outside of how to get what she wanted from them.

They were both quiet as Kaz picked at some of the little bottles of perfume that he had splayed out over the top of his vanity. “Poppy?” he asked, his eyes flickering up to meet her own in the mirror.

“Yes?” she asked. She had been speaking lower that day, which was helped by the injuries that her childhood sickness had given to her throat.

“How much do you know about Novyi Zem?” he asked, still refusing to turn and look at her.

That gave her pause. She traced her gloved fingers up and down the head of her cane for a moment as she thought about the way that she wanted to respond. Finally, she said, “I would say a fair amount.”

Kaz turned to face her finally and she almost jumped back when she saw the intensity of the emotion in his eyes. Before she had the chance to ask what was wrong with him or why he was acting the way that he was, he said, “I think that I’m a girl. It’s a very common thing in Novyi Zem but it was still going to be so hard to transition if I stayed back in my hometown because so many people had known me as I was but then I came here and it doesn’t seem like anyone is so I just changed who I was so that they wouldn’t find me. But I don’t think that I can keep going on like this. Were you serious about giving me your name?”

For some reason, the idea of switching genders had never occurred to Poppy before. It was likely because she had been too busy pickpocketing people to survive and vividly reliving the worst moments in her life every time she closed her eyes. Having the short first sentence that her friend had said spread out in front of her for the first time left her sitting on his- her, Poppy reminded herself- bed with her mouth open like an idiot.

She had apparently been too quiet for too long because Kaz stood up and bolted for the door, which she locked. Kaz almost never locked her door because she was too trusting, something Poppy had chided her for time and time again. “I’ll give you a month’s wages if you promise not to tell anyone.”

“What? Absolutely not,” she, Poppy shuddered at the reference to himself as that in his own mind. His thoughts were whirring faster than the waters that lapped at the massive stone piers of Ketterdam. Everything that had come with the discomfort of growing up and going through puberty suddenly made sense. The disgust and borderline fit that he had when Jordie had woven all of those blue ribbons into his hair to try and make him look presentable for that godforsaken meeting that ended up being their downfall. The fact that he hated touch was most likely a combined side effect of what had happened on the Reaper’s Barge and the fact that his body did not feel like his own.

The realization that he was a boy rang through his head like the morning bells, waking up a part of himself that he hadn’t even realized existed. “Will you calm down?” he snapped when Kaz was still fluttering about her small room to try and fix her perceived slight on him.

“How can I calm down when I just bared my soul for you and you’re likely going to have me killed for it?” she asked, rather melodramatically, as she sat herself back down on her stool.

“I will do no such thing,” Poppy shook his head. “I was simply realizing that being a different gender than the one that you were assigned at birth is an option for me as well. And plenty of people here are trans, it’s just something that you’re expected to keep rather hushed up. No one talks about themselves as much as you do, Kaz.”

Relief had spread over her features the more that he spoke and reassured her that she was safe with him. The moment that he said her name, she deflated and looked down at where she was worrying her hands together in front of her. “Oh, please don’t call me that,” she murmured.

“Right,” he nodded. “I was never particularly fond of my name but I certainly can’t use it now.”

“What?” she asked, tilting her head up at her friend in surprise.

“You’ve opened my eyes to something that has been staring me in the face since I was ten. I’m a boy and you’re a girl, but we have mismatched names. We should switch,” he replied simply, as if he hadn’t just discovered something that was going to affect his every waking moment from that second forward.

---

Kaz Brekker was born on that late Summer evening. The smell of rain and the perfumes that his close friend Poppy had used soaked into the memory, mixing with the euphoria of being who he was. They had constructed an elaborate hoax where they both disappeared for a while and then returned under the correct genders with the names that they preferred. There were a few people that recognized them and tried to make a stink, but they were quickly dealt with. 

Months later, Kaz would become the leader of the Dregs and then promise to buy the building that would become the Crow Club with Poppy. However, he knew that as the leader of a gang he couldn’t have someone that knew something so sensitive about him so close to him. So, despite the fact that she was his only friend, he double crossed her until he was the only owner of the Crow Club. They didn’t see each other again for a long while, until he took an incredibly risky job, but the feelings of resentment she harbored for him could only go so far since Kaz had given her her name. 

[doorsclosingslowly]

@sl-walker  asked a question: 1, 11, 13!

@jamaskywalker asked a quesstion: 1, 17, 25, 29 and 30 for the identity asks?

@darthbiscuits asked a question: (sorry if it's weird to send this so late, I kept  meaning to and not doing it) - for the numbered asks, 11, 13, 22, 25 & 26

Thanks <3 Doing everything in one batch because of overlaps!

1) if someone wanted to really understand you, what would they read, watch, and listen to?

Uh, a hard one. Tbh I don’t think a story that feels like me or whatever would ever get published because people would be too bored. I probably wouldn’t like it much either. The closest is probably Richard Ayoade’s film Submarine or the songs Ritual No. 1 and Derek Jarman’s Garden by Nicky Wire. Emmy the Great’s Paper Forest (In the Afterglow of Rapture). Also -- Ali Smith’s There but for the, because I often feel like just locking myself in a room and staying there. Revenge of the Sith, which is probably the film I related most to ever but that time’s over and I’m never letting it come back. Suede’s Picknick by the Motorway. When You Don’t See Me by the Sisters of Mercy. Kafka’s Metamorphosis. Of Walking Abortion by Manic Street Preachers, and also This Sullen Welsh Heart and Born A Girl. 

In terms of things that massively influenced me that’s probably Yu-Gi-Oh! which I watched religiously for most of my early teenage years and that mix of ludicrousness and horror is still what I look for in stories I think. Also -- regrettably -- Die Zähne in der Hand by the world’s most pretentious band, Samsas Traum, my first ever real favourite song. It’s about punching someone to death, except that someone is yourself and/or the personification of your mental illness & I can kind of see why people were so afraid for me when I was thirteen lol. I can trace a truly ridiculous range of things from being vegetarian to liking the Sisters back to my first internet buddy sending me that song on ICQ. To be honest I think she never found out that I was really young then haha

Alternatively, the fanfic I’ve written. Mostly Unmasked, Riches and Wonders, Down in the Ground Where the Dead Men Go and Your Death is a Number because they dive into Issues but everything is rooted in my thought process so.

11) describe your ideal day.

I wake up, stay in bed and fall asleep again (falling asleep in the morning feels v nice). Some weird non-breakfast food and a lot of tea, and then I go exploring a city or cliffs or something and listen to music. It’s really sunny. In the evening I meet up with a friend and we talk about random stuff and politics and Star Wars. I don’t have to think about what I should be doing instead because I have no commitments or work that I’m putting off. I don’t feel terrified about what I should be doing. My brain is quiet.

13) inside or outdoors?

Inside most of the time. I really like it though when it’s summer and I have the time to just pick a direction and walk until the day’s over. In cities usually because you can’t get lost there and if you do just take the bus to the main station.

17) would you say your tumblr is a fair representation of the “real you”?

Not really. It’s not half as boring as I am. Although it’s probably a fair representation of my current interests, and the regrettable fact that I obsessively pick one thing and think of little else for months.

22) list the top five things you spend the most time doing, in order.

In ascending order of how many hours a day I spend doing them:

Thinking about things I want to be doing and not doing them.

Thinking about the things I should be doing, not doing them and worrying.

Playing Solitaire/Minesweeper/Sudoku instead, the filler paste of activities: addictive, not teaching you anything, and not that satisfying to be honest. But at least I’m doing something, which keeps the restlessness at bay. This sketch is so accurate. “Welcome to the afterlife. And here’s the final result of your life’s work: you managed to beat your computer at solitaire 7345 out of a possible 128312 times!”

Daydreaming, the less bad filler paste, because at least it occasionally results in writing fanfic.

Sleeping.

25) could you live as a hermit?

Unfortunately most likely not. I house-sat for when my parents were away for three weeks a few years ago and didn’t really leave the house at all and after a week I relistened to all podcasts I had ever heard because it was doing my head in, human interactions are incredibly stressful to me but I honestly couldn’t stay alive without them.

26) how would you describe your gender/sexuality?

Asexual, aromantic. Male, tough I’m currently swinging hard towards “Gender? No thanks” which idk whether that’s a defense mechanism for the fact that I decided years ago that everything was so much effort and it would just be incredible stress for nothing anyway if I went through with killing myself, so after the GP wasn’t helpful and I didn’t know what to do I put off transitioning until a nebulous time when I’d have more mental strength to invest in that. Or whether it’s anything genuine. Tbh I’m still not sure whether I want to even mention this on this blog because it’s not like it matters & Anton is the name I use when I think of myself, I’m least uncomfortable with he/him, but otoh it’s less bad than talking about this in meatspace and probably my obsession with body horror makes more sense now.

29) three songs that you connect with right now.

Niels Frevert – Ich möchte mich gern von mir trennen

Frank Turner – Get Better

Sneaker Pimps – Curl

30) pick one of your favorite quotes.

Where there’s nature, or where there is breathing, there are true moments of joy. You’ve just got to recognise them. And not take them for granted. And that’s what I try to do, have moments of elation in life, however small, five minutes a day, and be able to think “Yeah, that’ll do. That’ll do me, now”. Nicky Wire, Vox October 1996.

[briteboy]

MORE ASKS I’VE BEEN IGNORING!!!!!!!

GET ‘EM WHILE THEY’RE HOT

P.S. ALL OF U WHO SENT ME THE CHAIN THINGY ILYSOMUCH 

Why is her step-douche such a foken piece of shit? omg i hate him

some mysteries are never meant to be explained tbh. why is he so ugly and evil? who wronged him? but also who cares he’s in jail forever now good riddance ugly

I know this is probably really bad, but after I saw the newest molly posts, I thought of that video where the little girl is yelling "MISS KEISHA, MISS KEISHA, oh my fukin gosh she fukin dead"

OMFGFD I DIDN’T KNOW WHAT THAT VIDEO WAS SO I JUST WATCHED IT AND I’M LAUGHIN

i don’t blame u i bet when it happens i’m gonna be like “u know she ded”

(To the previous anon) i agree with you so, so much! In Poland, these dumbass politicians are letting shooting pregnant bisons (?? Im not sure how they're called) become legal. Like BITCH WHAT. Can you imagine??? A fucking pregnant lil' cow getting shot????? I feel Molly's pain on an emotional level rn (sorry if this is too nsfw, just needed to get that outta my system...)

i think this was in response to someone saying that hurting pregnant women is one of the worst crimes but um WTF shooting animals at all makes me itchy but pregnant ones..............nah that’s......nah

it’s ok get it outta ur system i’m here 4 u

the first thing I check in the morning is your account.... you have me whipped! ;|

OMG WHA LMAO REALLY that’s wild. i feel like i’m the only one who looks at my page which is dumb but like idk i still feel like a little kid that no one cares about lmao. but then you guys exist and amaze me with your responsiveness every day and i just ;____________; ily all

hi Sunny. first of all i'm gonna say i love your story and your editing style so much! your blog is goals like literally. i need an advice if you don't mind. you always find such amazing angles for your pictures while mine are so boring. any tips or tricks you can share?

HI thank you so much ;-; sooooo i’ve been thinking about this question the past couple of times i went in game, trying to figure out how to describe how i take pictures. for one thing i live in tab mode lmao. meaning you press the tab button on your keyboard to go into camera mode and get all these sexy angles and super zoom and stufffff. i almost always zoom in super far idk why. so there’s one tip. i honestly just play around with going up and down with the q and e keys (i think?) until i find angles i like. i take a lottttt of pictures with so many different angles just so i have a lot to choose from. basically i try to focus on different things in each picture in order to get a mix of the most diverse and dynamic shots possible. you just need to experiment and get creative. i know that’s the most vague advice ever but really just try a new angle that you’ve never considered before and i bet you’ll get cool results. an interesting setting is also the biggest factor, because certain objects and their placements will give you interesting results. 

i honestly want to print out your reaction pic to that one post and just hang it on my wall, put it in my heart locket necklace, stamp it on people's faces, start an email thread with it. i love it.

an add on to the last ask i sent about your reaction pic. i've been looking at it religiously since it was posted, and i dont regret a minute of it. LMAO I'LL STOP NOW.

SAKJDLJKGKSDAF STOPPPP LMAOOO i looked so ugly but that was my pure unadulterated reaction to that question and i trust you all to not judge my ugliness and instead share this reaction with me. i’m glad u liked it that much, i just printed it out and i’m cutting it into a small heart to put inside ur locket ok

everytime i hear cigarette daydreams by cage the elephant i think of a serious case of the novembers like its so fitting and then i get all emo when i listen to it lmao rip

OMMMMGGGGGGG YESSSSS how have i never made that connection before honestly. cage the elephant is one of my faves and i’ve seen them perform twice actually!! i’m watching the music vid for that song now and even that reminds me of my story ;-; i cry

thank you for sending this, and also i cry @ the fact that you used the actual title *dies* now this song is gonna make me emo til the end of time thx

i might sound like some crazy stalker fan but i just want to say you are so freakin awesome and nice and funny and cute and (i can go on forever) so caring! i love your blog so much and all the hard work and care you put into all your posts and followers. thanks for making my day and making me smile so much. you have no clue how much i look forward to seeing your posts and your hilarious hashtags and answers from asks and AMAZING story posts. im sorry i just wanted to let you know ur awesome ily

OFMG WHAT!!!!!! I AM ONLY AN EEL!!!!!! but no you don’t sound like a crazy stalker, i actually love this, you’re too sweet, thank you ;-; i’m just blushin so much reading this omg. YOU EVEN LIKE MY TAGS WOW that’s true love. ily ;-; <333

how do you get your sims' facial expressions to line up with your scenes? I feel like my sims' faces are never right :(

tbh i just use a lot of the same neutral poses...my go-to’s are @helgatisha‘s poses lol. they’re the easiest to work with when i do just plain talking scenes, and often i tweak my sims’ eyebrows and mouths with the liquify tool if i want them to look a bit more concerned, sad, mad, happy, etc., it works like a charm!! i also tend to play around with angles, you’d be surprised how much a different angle can enhance a scene.

Hey smol bean, I'm sent you an ask and now I feel bad that it probably made you feel anxious because you didn't answer it. It was the one about you not liking my posts, I have anxiety too so I'm sorry If I made you feel sad. I think I'm just looking for validation from people I look upto you get me? Anyway sorry again, don't worry about it! Love you!

hiya bb, i know you saw my answer to your original post (and i’m sorry it got some negative attention, i didn’t mean for that to happen by any means) anyway don’t sweat it, and i really appreciate this follow-up message. you didn’t make me feel sad, i just wanna know what i can do. it’s just a hard question y’know. i understand what you mean, i think everyone wants validation to some degree. tbh you can just come off anon and message me, i promise it’s not as nerve-wracking as it seems! ily

How did you make Santi's tattoos? I want some like that for my Sims but idk how to do it

boop

I HAVE A FEELING THAT MOLLY IS GOING TO DIE DURING THE BIRTH OF THE BEAN OR IT HAS SOMETHING TO DO WITH HER STEPFATHER FINDING OUT ABOUT THE BEAN

WELP U WERE RIGHT ABOUT ONE THING

how did you make your characters page on your blog like that?

uoohhh like what?? i used this theme (monolog) if that’s what you mean aheh. here’s a guide on how to use custom page themes

okay so THIS IS MY THEORY: they might keep the baby and molly might actually carry it to full term, but then the kid dies in childbirth and either molly also dies or maybe kills herself or gets killed later? or maybe she's still alive but just won't speak to santi anymore cause she like can't look him in the eye after all of that or idk?? since ppl were sending theories i wanted to add mine lmao. another possible theory is that the stepdad finds out and kills her but thats TOO DARK omg

TOO DARK U SAY...WELL!!! it’s not AS dark as you guessed but only marginally

If Molly turns out to be alive and raising their kid alone (though from what I'm seeing in response to most questions I think that may not be the route) am I allowed to slap Santi (unless Molly didn't give him the option to help) because raising a child alone is not easy I've watched my mom do it for years.

YEAH i would give you permission to slap him lmao he would be a grade A piece o’ shit if that were the case. i would never ever write that tho because santi does own up to his actions if they’re that detrimental. his altruistic nature, no matter how backwards, would never allow him to do that.

There will be complication with the abortion so she will not be able to carry a baby anymore and she's going to kill herself OR her step dad is going to find out and he'll beat her to death. And in both situation Santi his blaming himself because he wasn't there at the right time... Okay I really really hope I'm wrong now !

I don't even follow your story very closely but every time I see your posts my heart hurts.

OMFG...that’s how u know the pain is real

but like wow my stuff is really so visceral that even my apathetic followers can feel the hurt...that’s real...that’s real my guy

omg!! you should 100% play or at least watch a playthrough of life is strange! legit the best game ever made, its so beautiful. the storyline kills you a thousand times over (much like your beautiful story) <3333

yaaaa i’ve heard lots of good things about it!! my bf played it actually, maybe he’ll revisit it again someday and i’ll watch him do it (i’m only a fan of video games if i can watch them like a movie lmao) thank you btw <3

I am shook and I worship you and your story and you are amazing WOW BYE

WORSHIP LMAO WHAT!!! PLS I AM UNDESERVING...ily tho don’t worship false gods

Do you let Molly and the younger versions of your characters frolic around your main save or do they have a separate one?

UM YES LMAO because i didn’t even know you could have separate saves until after i started the flashbacks lmao i’m...a noob. i don’t want separate saves anyway because 1) it’s too much of a hassle switching back and forth and 2) it gets too confusing for me and i’d be afraid of overwriting one save with another and NOPE too much anxiety for that soooo yeah there’s three santis in my game: child, teen and adult lmfao (fun fact: teen santi’s name is literally just Lil Santi)

I made it to my senior year with 6 A's and 1 B ... Be proud of me too? 😂 Lmao I told this to people and some of them were just like .. okay cool?! LMAO it's so funny but also kinda sad

I AM PROUD OF YOU TOO!!!!!!!!! my smart childrens

“okay cool” UM PLEASE that’s a feat...at my school if you got an A in a class in senior year you were allowed to be exempt from the final. so yeah that rules. ily

[meringuebones]

011.

1: How tall or short do you wish you were? I’m fine with my height. 2: What’s your dream pet (real or not)? A mabari or a nug from Dragon Age.

3: Do you have a favorite clothing style? Ninja-goth and street-goth are cool to look at. If I had a ton of money, that would be how I dress. But I don’t, so... I just wear plain black clothes. 4: What was your favorite video game growing up? Final Fantasy IX, Legend of Zelda: Majora’s Mask, Crash Bandicoot trilogy, and Spyro the Dragon series. 5: What three things/people do you think of most each day: My husband, money, work. 6: If you had a warning label, what would yours say? That I’ll sacrifice them to the almighty Dark Lord if they cross me. I don’t know. Whatever. 7: What is your Greek personality type (Sanguine, Phlegmatic, Choleric, or Melancholic)? Choleric. 8: Are you ticklish? Very much so. 9: Are you allergic to anything? Not that I can think of. I used to be allergic to bananas. 10: What’s your sexuality? Hetero. 11: Do you prefer tea, coffee, or cocoa? Tea. 12: Are you a cat or dog person? I like both, but I’d go with dogs. 13: Would you rather be a vampire, elf, or merperson? Elf, like a dark elf from the Elder Scrolls series. 14: Do you have a favorite Youtuber? No, I don’t watch any specific YouTubers. 15: How tall are you? 5′2″. 16: If you had to change your name, what would you change it to? I’m fine with my name. 17: How much do you weigh? Like 135 lbs. 18: Do you believe in ghosts/spirits? Yeah, definitely. 19: Do you like space or the ocean more? The ocean.  20: Are you religious? Not really. I consider myself Agnostic. 21: Pet peeves? People who don’t use their blinkers while driving, people who are rude to cashiers, people who steal art/writing/whatever and claim it as theirs, when the weather says it’s going to rain and then it doesn’t, silverware scraping dishes, interrupting me when I’m talking, and many other things. 22: Would you rather be nocturnal or diurnal (opposite of nocturnal)? Diurnal. I like sleeping when it’s dark outside. 23: Favorite constellation? Osiris. 24: Favorite star? Altair, just because of the name. I don’t care for the star itself. 25: Do you like ball-jointed dolls? Uh... sure. They’re kind of neat, I guess. 26: Any phobias or fears? Roaches, the dark, the paranormal, mirrors and windows in the dark, someone I love dying tragically. 27: Do you think global warming is real? Definitely. 28: Do you believe in reincarnation? It’s interesting, but I’m not sure if I believe it or not. 29: Favorite movie? I can’t name just one. It’s way easier if I were to be asked, like... what my favorite comedy, horror, animated, etc. movie is. 30: Do you get scared easily? Yes! Not as much I used to get, but I still manage to get easily scared by little things. I torture myself by reading scary stories when I’m home alone. 31: How many pets have you own in your lifetime? Eight were officially ours—two fish, two rabbits, a guinea pig, a dog, and two cats. One cat is still alive and with my parents. Then there’s, like, a million feral cats around that neighborhood that love being around their house. 32: What is a color that calms you? Gray. 33: Where would you like to travel and/or live? I think I’m fine with where I live for now, but I’d like to travel to Iceland, Bolivia, Sweden, Norway, Denmark, Spain, Morocco, Egypt, Turkey, France, Romania, Ukraine, South Korea, Taiwan, and Japan. 34: Where were you born? Rome, Italy. 35: What is your eye color? Brown. 36: Introvert or extrovert? Introvert. 37: Do you believe in horoscopes and zodiacs? Not at all, but I do like reading the lists people come up with, like the zodiac signs as types of Pokémon or Greek gods or whatever. 38: Hugs or kisses? Hugs. 39: Who is someone you would like to see/visit right now? No one in mind. 40: Who is someone you love deeply? My husband. 41: Any piercings you want? Nah, I’m good. 42: Do you like tattoos and piercings? I do, but not on me. 43: Do you smoke or have you eiver done so? I have smoked, but I don’t regularly smoke. 44: Talk about your crush, if you have one! Uh... I’ll talk about a celebrity crush. He’s an annoying, bald Swedish dude who’s an exceptionally talented guitarist and music producer. Extra emphasis on the word ‘annoying.’ 45: What is a sound you really hate? Silverware scraping dishes, the vacuum, the blender, really heavy footsteps, the sound of vomiting, pots and pans clanking together. 46: A sound you really love? Rain, thunder, ocean waves, fire crackling, strong wind. 47: Can you do a backflip? Maybe. If I want a trip to the hospital right after, sure. 48: Can you do the splits? I can do a front split, but not a side split. 49: Favorite actor and/or actress? I don’t really have any. I mean, I have some I like and find attractive, but I don’t pay too much attention to them. 50: Favorite book? ”Death: A Life”  by George Pendle. 51: How are you feeling right now? Tired. I also still feel blah from that ramen I ate earlier. 52: What color would you like your hair to be right now? I’m fine with its natural color. 53: When did you feel happiest? Mm, probably when I got married this past Monday. 54: Something that calms you down? Usually laying down is enough for me. 55: Have any mental disorders? General anxiety and ADHD. 56: What does your URL mean? Bones made out of meringue. 57: What three words describe you the most? Mischievous, tired, creative. 58: Do you believe in evolution? Yes. 59: What makes you unfollow a blog? They haven’t updated in forever, they start reblogging too much fandom discourse, or they say some stupid offensive bullshit (e.g. racism, classism, homophobia, etc.). 60: What makes you follow a blog? They mostly post what I like seeing on my dash. 61: Favorite kind of person: ... Someone nice. Which I figure is what most people would say is their favorite kind of person. 62: Favorite animal(s): Rabbits, hares, bears, bats. 63: Name three of your favorite blogs. Let’s not. 64: Favorite emoticon: The ghost or pile of poop. 65: Favorite meme: Any Kermit or DW reaction image. 66: What is your MBTI personality type? INFJ. 67: What is your star sign? Cancer. 68: Can your dog roll over on command, if you have a dog? My dog’s dead and she never obeyed commands. She was way too hyper. 69: What outfit out of all your clothes do you like to wear the most? Plain black zip-up hoodie, random t-shirt tucked into a black tennis skirt, black thigh-high stockings, a pair of black/white low-top Vans. 70: Post a selfie or two? No. 71: Do you have platform shoes? I have a couple pairs of wedges, if that counts. 72: What is one random but interesting fact about yourself? I can walk backwards like Regan from The Exorcist. Now... can I do it on stairs? Probably not without breaking my neck. 73: Can you do a front flip? I can on a trampoline. 74: Do you like birds? Sure, they’re alright. I think puffins are super cute. 75: Do you like to swim? I do. 76: Is swimming or ice skating more fun to you? I’ve never gone ice skating, but I feel like I’d still answer with swimming. 77: Something you wish didn’t exist: Donald Trump. 78: Some thing you wish did exist: Fifty large sacks of money right in front of me. 79: Piercings you have? None. 80: Something you really enjoy doing: Sleeping and daydreaming. 81: Favorite person to talk to: My husband. 82: What was your first impression of Tumblr? I don’t remember. That was back in like 2010. Obviously I must have liked it enough if I’m still here. 83: How many followers do you have? Negative five. 84: Can you run a mile within ten minutes? I’m not sure. I could back in high school when we ran timed miles, but I weigh a bit more, so... Hm. Maybe not. 85: Do your socks always match? When I actually bother to wear them, yes. I hate mismatched socks. 86: Can you touch your toes and keep your legs straight completely? Ah, something I can do! Yes. 87: What are your birthstones? Ruby. I’m not sure if I have more than one... 88: If you were an animal, which one would you be? A shark, possibly. Or a hare. 89: If a flower could aesthetically represent you, what kind would it be? Black velvet petunia. 90: A store you hate? I don’t care enough. 91: How many cups of coffee can you drink in one day? Like two. Not much. I prefer tea. 92: Would you rather be able to fly or read minds? Fly. Reading minds would be shit with my anxiety. 93: Do you like to wear camo? Not really. 94: Winter or summer? Winter. 95: How long can you hold your breath for? I was bored and timed it right now. A minute and nine seconds. 96: Least favorite person? Any evil dictator. 97: Someone you look up to: My parents. [/cue ‘aww.’] 98: A store you love? Barnes and Noble. I can feel as if my wallet is mad at me every time I shop there. 99: Favorite type of shoes Vans. 100: Where do you live? The U.S. 101: Are you a vegetarian or vegan? If so, why? No, because I don’t want to be. 102: What is your favorite mineral or gem? Sapphires, rubies, azurite. 103: Do you drink milk? Sometimes. 104: Do you like bugs? Not really. 105: Do you like spiders? I like some... like the plush black spider on my bed. 106: Something you get paranoid about? The paranormal. 107: Can you draw?: I can. I even went to school and made a career out of it. 108: Nosiest question you have ever been asked? Anything very sexual, like related to kinks, fetishes, or whatever. 109: A question you hate being asked? I hate when I’m tired and someone asks if I’m okay, and then when I say that I am they say some stupid shit like, “Are you sure? You don’t look okay.”  110: Ever been bitten by a spider? YES. I still have a big scar behind my knee from being bit by one a long time ago. 111: Do you like the sound of waves at the beach? I do. 112: Do you prefer cloudy or sunny days? Cloudy. 113: Someone you’d like to kiss or cuddle right now: My husband. 114: Favorite cloud type: Google calls them cirrus clouds. 115: What color do you wish the sky was? Like naturally? Gray, all the time. Or maybe pastel purple all the time. 116: Do you have freckles? Nope. 117: Favorite thing about a person: I suppose the little traits and interests that make them wholly them. 118: Fruits or vegetables? Fruits.  119: Something you want to do right now: Take a shower. 120: Is the ocean or sky prettier? The ocean. 121: Sweet or sour foods? Sweet. 122: Bright or dim lights? Dim lights. 123: Do you believe in a certain magical creature? Kind of. I mean, there are parts of the Earth we’ve yet to explore, and we’re constantly finding new species every single year. Who’s to say something ‘magical’ doesn’t exist and it really isn’t magical? 124: Something you hate about Tumblr: Hive-mind mentality, especially when it comes down to someone being called out. 125: Something you love about Tumblr: There are so many things to pull inspiration from as an artist. Also the roleplay community is pretty sweet, depending on what fandom you join. 126: What do you think about the least? I’m not sure. 127: What would you want written on your tombstone? A curse of some sorts. 128: Who would you like to punch in the face right now? Why would I want to hurt my hand? Pass. 129: What is something you love but also hate about yourself? Hm... Maybe how much I care about certain people/things. 130: Do you smile with your teeth showing for pictures? Rarely. 131: Computer or TV? Computer. 132: Do you like roller coasters? They’re alright. 133: Do you get motion sickness or seasickness? I used to when I was a little kid, but not anymore. 134: Are your ears free or attached? They’re free, but barely. 135: Do you believe in karma? I’m not a buddhist, so no. 136: On a scale of 1-10, how attractive would you say you are? Maybe a 7. 137: What nicknames do you have/have had? I have too many. We’d be here all night. 138: Did you have any pretend or imaginary friends? I never did. 139: Have you ever seen a therapist/shrink? Not repeatedly. I saw one a couple times so they could diagnose me and give me meds that I don’t take, but that’s it. 140: Would you say you are a good or bad influence to others? Mostly good, I think. 141: Do you prefer giving or receiving gifts/help? Giving help, mainly because I hate the idea of receiving it in any way. I don’t like admitting I need help. As for gifts, I like both giving and receiving about equally. 142: What makes you angry?: A lot of things. 143: How many languages do you speak fluently? Honestly, one. Kind of sad. I can’t speak my native language fluently anymore. 144: Do you prefer boys, girls, and/or non-binaries? Boys. 145: Are you androgynous? No, I don’t think so. 146: Favorite physical thing about yourself: My hair and ass. 147: Favorite thing about your personality: My creativity. 148: Name three people you would like to talk to right now in person. I don’t want to. 149: If you could go back into time and live in one era, which would you choose? I wouldn’t. I’m fine reading about them. I don’t need to experience their pains. 150: Do you like BuzzFeed? I don’t really have an opinion about them. 151: How did you meet your spouse/girlfriend/boyfriend/partner? Short story, mutual friends. I’m too lazy to type out the long story. 152: Do you like to kiss others’ foreheads or hands for platonic reasons? Not really. I give a lot of nose and head kisses though. [EDIT] Okay, so earlier whenI took this survey my eyes just seemed to skip over the word ‘platonic.’ I don’t give platonic kisses. 153: Do you like to play with others’ hair? Nope. 154: What embarrasses you? Remembering embarrassing things I did like ten years ago and curling up into a ball. It’s an endless cycle. 155: Something that makes you nervous/anxious: Being out in public. 156: Biggest lie you have ever told: No idea. Maybe that I liked someone. Or that I was working on a project when I wasn’t. 157: How many people are you following? On my personal Tumblr, 956. I can’t follow anyone from this particular blog because it’s just a sideblog. 158: How many posts do you have on your blog(s)? I’m not going into my roleplay accounts because I don’t feel like signing in/out, so I’ll just do my main and sideblogs. Main (cyberpunk + fandoms) is 6,073. Cute sideblog is 2,194. Nature sideblog is 1,615. Reference sideblog is 212. Brown/tan aesthetic sideblog is 322. Then there’s two sideblogs I don’t know the aesthetic of, but one has 230 posts while the other has 110. 159: How many drafts do you have on your blog(s)? I don’t feel like looking anymore. 160: How many likes do you have on your blog(s)? 331 on my main. 161: Last time you cried and why: I don’t remember. 162: Do you have long or short hair? Very long hair. 163: Longest your hair has ever been: It’s currently the longest it’s been, and it’s about an inch above the base of my back. 164: Why do you like, dislike, or have neutral feelings about religion? In short, because I don’t care. 165: Do you really care how the universe and world was created? Not really. I mean, I think it’s interesting to read about, but I don’t care when it relates to religion. 166: Do you like to wear makeup? Sometimes. 167: Can you stand on your hands or head for more than thirty seconds? Probably not anymore. 168: Did you answer the questions you were asked truthfully? I did.

[winterstormgoddess]

On growing up in Los Angeles

I would like to start this off by saying thank you. Thank you to my parents, for never ceasing to embarrass me. To my Mom for continuing to wear tie die no matter how many times I asked her to wear jeans and a black shirt, to my dad for dancing in the bed of his pick up truck when I was walking down from the junior high campus. Thank you for never giving up on trying to hold my hand in public, thank you for not buying me the 6 inch stilettos when I was 16 even though I saved up my allowance and bought them myself. Thank you for not being the PTA, dinner party, socialite parents I wanted you to be. Not that there is anything wrong with that, but because it was never either of you. You two taught me true self awareness and confidence before I even knew thats what you were teaching me.

I didn’t realize the effect of being a Los Angeles bred teenager until I left for college. Despite the fact that Orange County is arguably more of a bubble than Los Angeles, I managed to make friends who were from outside of Southern California. I was a full force weirdo in Junior High. While my peers were wearing juicy across their asses, I was wearing a skort from limited two and turquoise pumas. The Occasional gauchos or as I like to call them, pregnancy pants, also made appearances. My closest friend from this time of my life was forced to be my friend, by me. I persistently annoyed her until she gave in and invited me to sleep over in her impeccably clean, light pink, room in the valley. We made embarrassing videos on Photo Booth that we still geek out about to this day. Shoutout J, I will forever be grateful for my fellow junior high weirdo who has accepted me exactly how I am for almost 11 years now. 

When I was in 8th grade the school schedule gods put me in every single class with the coolest (scariest) girl in school. I entered our friendship by trying to advertise that my mom was a sit-com actress, little did I know that her father was a hugely famous athlete. There is problem number one with growing up in Los Angeles, thinking that your value is dependent on who your parents are. I also managed to annoy her into being my friend. There were years of my existence, that every outfit I picked out was to make myself seem cool in her eyes. This little colorful hippy child entered a full force Los Angeles all black everything diva wannabe phase. Over time I was graced with the sensitive, authentic, goofy, loyal side of this beautiful human and our friendship was able to transition from queen and subject to two equals.

Luckily for me, I was never debilitated by girl drama, it also helped that I had an all out army (above mentioned cool girl & posse) on my side. Problem number 2. The modeling of reality television. I can not tell you how many times I was “confronted” by a bunch of girls speaking like they were sitting at a Real Housewives reunion. Im all about my girl gang, but not about the girl gang ups.

It is fitting that no was my first word because using it always came easily for me. The concept of peer pressure and how to avoid it is shoved down your throat as a teenager but “just saying no” was never my problem. My struggle was that I never knew what I wanted to say yes to. I had very little idea of who I was and what I actually wanted. This is obviously not something that only I struggled with. Being a teenager is never a time of complete self awareness but there is something about Los Angeles that really diminishes the ability to distinguish between what you think you should be doing and what you actually want to be doing.

Los Angeles is a city with the industry at its center. Either you’re in the industry or you’re connected to someone who is. Or you’re like my dad who really just wanted to be able to go to the beach, the desert, and the mountains with equal travel time. I remember him telling me that when he came to LA he promised himself he would NEVER date an actress, then my mom came into the mix. My mother is the antithesis of the typical actress. She doesn’t like to be the center of attention, she is humble, she is generous, she doesn’t brag, she very rarely even advocates for herself because she is too busy advocating for everyone else. I am absolutely an industry baby, I took my first steps on the set of F.R.I.E.N.D.S, and most of my earliest memories are on the Warner Brothers lot. My mom was on set consistently from the time I was born until I was 8, but the interesting thing is that for the majority of that I was there with her. She nursed me in between shots and as I got older I found quite a bit of enjoyment playing dress up in her dressing room. Neither of my parents were absentee which I feel is quintessential in my growth as a well rounded human being surrounded by industry.

I spent my childhood daydreaming about being a famous singer and dancer, staging singing performances in my living room, or my personal favorite what I called “Naked Ballet” where I had a full on nude (with the exception of ballet shoes) dance party. I love to sing, and competing as a dancer was a very transformative part of my young adult life. I am a performer by blood, but there wasn’t much room to explore the ways to perform outside of the basic 3, singing, dancing, acting. When I was a teenager everyone around me wanted to be famous, wether that be youtube famous, a famous singer, a famous actress, a famous dancer, a famous model, everyone wanted to “succeed” and that success was equated to being known. I loved what I did but I knew in my heart it was not what I wanted to be known for. Fame is shoved down your throat as if it is the only way to be important.

I notice this phenomena even more, with the rise in social media usage and the constant pressure to be liked, both literally and figuratively. I look at my sister and her friends, beautiful and intelligent, witty and capable without half a clue about their true value because so much of their time is spent on what theirs or their friends Instagram feeds look like. Disclaimer, if you follow me on Instagram I am also an avid user of the platform, my feed has a theme, and I post my fair share of selfies. I am not saying there is anything wrong with that, it is a new and fun way to express oneself. My point is to say that when social media serves as a way to define and determine ones value instead of being used as a form of expression that is when it becomes detrimental.

The pressure to be known, liked, and famous keeps young people from figuring out what is actually fulfilling. My performer gene didn’t leave when I decided I didn’t want to be famous, I just realized that public speaking and facilitating was the type of performing that really brought joy into my heart, I found true happiness instead of constantly striving for a superficial and often unattainable goal.

As I pack up to leave Los Angeles and move on to the next chapter of my life I find myself looking back on the past 21 years. While I feel sad to leave my beautiful family, the sunny winters and my long drives down the pch with the windows down I wave goodbye with a smile on my face to the years of pretending and empty performing. I actively surrounded myself with 5 weirdos in college who reminded me who I was at my core, they allowed me to be exactly who I am, a mixture of weirdo, granola, and diva, a combination of both my nature and the nurture of my hippy family and the highly complex city that raised me.

If I have anything to say to young people growing up in LA, parents raising children in LA, or anyone who lives in the city of angels, it is to find your own definition of success outside of the masses. If you want to perform, perform your truth, and if you do anything at all- actively surround yourself with people who allow you to be exactly who you are because if you don’t do that the expectations of the city will eat you alive and you won’t even be able to enjoy the beautiful weather.

You will forever be a part of my heart lala land, but I’m leaving you for the big apple. PEACE