#like maybe i am stupid idk. or i look for personal gratification

[wraithsapphic]

do you ever read something you'd been looking forward to for ages and ages and close the book feeling completely and utterly empty but nobody else feels the same way and is praising a lot of the things that broke your heart about it and you have a logical understanding that a lot of things made sense and were realistic as to what would happen and also not every story is made to be wrapped up neatly but you still feel so blindsided by some of the things that happened that every positive thought you had about it just feels bitter now and also you keep wondering whether you're just too dumb to understand what the point was

[omegarosemain]

Rating: Teen and Up

Archive Warnings:

Categories: M/F, M/M, M/M/F

Fandom: Castlevania (Cartoon)

Relationships: Trevor Belmont/Sypha Belnades/Adrian Tepes

Characters: Adrian Tepes, Trevor Belmont, Sypha Belnades, Belmont Family, Dracula Vlad Tepes, Lisa Tepes

Additional Tags: Time Travel, idk why i had to, (i do know why it’s cuz i wanted interactions with their families without them being dead), past trauma, reliving trauma in a way, it’s a slowburn maybe?, but i’m bad at delaying gratification so, the ot3 is a preestablish relationship, the first chapter just doesn’t start with them, okay?, no beta we die like women, hurt/comfort, fluff, play fighting, trevor’s sisters!, they’re powerful ladies

Language: English

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 1: Torturing Our Boi, Naturally

Trevor woke up in a soft bed.

He was relaxed in a way that had his body struggling to react to his initial panic at waking up somewhere that he hadn’t fallen asleep--that place, of course, being Adrian’s creepy dungeon. The sensation was odd enough to have him on alert. 

There were embers glowing in the hearth, and a series of faint creaks like someone was trying to maneuver quietly a few rooms away, and a large window to his left. It was pre-dawn, by the look of the sky, and he was likely on the second floor.

Maybe that wave of magic had knocked him out, and Sypha and Adrian carried him up to bed...but why not their bedroom? In fact, this didn’t look like any bedroom in the castle, even if it was strangely familiar. And why weren’t they there with him, at least one of them, instead of lurking a few rooms away?

Uneasy, he reached for any of the weapons he kept on him. There were none on his person, which would be understandable if Sypha or Adrian had put him to bed, but the weapons also weren’t at the bedside table. Both of them knew him to be paranoid without his weapons near.

Also, he was wearing a nightgown like one he hadn’t in years. Even since being a permanent residence of the castle and not being forced to sleep in his only set of clothes, Trevor would rather sleep naked or with only undergarments.

In his search for his weapons, all he came across was a small dagger beneath his pillow.

It was his dagger, most certainly. Itfit his hand perfectly and had the crest of the Belmont family on its hilt. It was the dagger he was first trained to defend himself with. A Beolmont’s first weapon had always been presented like any normal child might receive a doll, with as much ceremony as their first steps. 

It had also been lost to the fire that took his home and family twelve years prior.

He suddenly recognized the room he was in. It had been his since he was eight, and had moved out of the “nursery” that he and his twin sister had shared since they were infants. Catherine had redecorated the room and it had become hers, and he was left in the smallest room at the farthest end of the hall.

Trevor took a sharp breath. 

Released it.

Took another breath.

What the fuck was going on?

Sypha had warned that the magic of the hidden dungeon had been old and deep, and Adrian had admitted that his father had taken possession of the castle almost five hundred years ago and still hadn’t know all its secrets. Was the magic there primed to...what? Look into his memories and recreate the worst moment(s) of his life?

If that was the case, though, Trevor should be outside and it should be closer to midnight than morning, and it should be snowing. He also shouldn’t have the free will to break the movements he had made before.

So what was this? An elaborate mind trick? Some sort of...interactive vision of a past he tried desperately to forget?

((Or maybe, a small part of him thought, I really am back in the days before that fire. The normal aches from his accumulated injuries and old scars were suspiciously absent, and his old dagger was much too small to fit so well in his should-be-grown-up hands.))

Trevor slipped from the bed, bare feet making contact with the wooden floor. He shivered slightly, involuntarily.

He dressed quickly in clothes he knew were meant for the daily life of a Belmont--for the training, and movement, and practicality their every day demanded--rather than some of the more aristocratic pieces. His muscle memory directed him to the water asin heating by the hearth to wash his face, and some combination of memory and a long-forgotten habit had him smoothing down the bedding. He slipped on his house-shoes and tucked his dagger into his sleeve before leaving the room.

The hall was achingly familiar, lined with doors that lead to his sisters’ rooms. There were a few portraits on the wall of long-dead ancestors, and a few paintings he knew Gabrielle made in her free time. Used to make. Still might make.

This was the family wing of the house. Like no time had passed at all, not years of drinking himself into oblivion or sleeping out in the cold or repressing all memories of home, he knew where everything was.

Louise was at the mouth of the hall, then Gabrielle, then Colette. Rounding around was Trevor’s, then Annette and Eleanore’s, then Catherine’s across from Louise. Trevor’s parents were on the landing. They would be the first line of defense if they had an intruder, Trevor realized now, as well as providing a barrier for children attempting to sneak out.

He skipped the squeaky floorboard and the creaky fourth step that lead to the main part of the house.

“Annette, is that you?”

Trevor froze halfway down the steps, fighting the urge to pull his dagger on his own mother. Or the memory of her, or whatever it was that was happening to him.

“Trevor? What are you doing creeping about so early?”

He turned to see Helaine Belmont standing at the top of the stairs like a spectre of the past, her dark hair braided over one shoulder and still dressed in only a nightdress. She smiled softly at him, a little confused by her youngest. Trevor had been the type to have to be forcibly roused as a child, he recalled now. Usually Louise had been the one to pull him out of bed as just routinely as a daily chore.

Something horrible and bitter clawed its way up his throat.

“What day is it?” he asked, forcing the words to come.

“Wednesday, dear,” answered his mother, confusion giving way to concern. “Why?”

You all burn on a Wednesday night.

I am an orphan on Thursday.

The church wants us all dead.

“What’s wrong Trevor?”

Why couldn’t he just say it? Was this the magic of the dungeon room, forcing a re-living where you feel like you could change things, but always lacked the ability to do so?

His mother was descending toward him, reaching out and despite himself he fell into her embrace. With the stairs and his twelve-year-old height, he was able to bury his face against her chest.

She spoke to him, carding her fingers through his hair. She said assurances, instructed him to breathe, told him everything was alright.

“You’re not real,” he choked out, even as he held onto her.

“Of course I’m real.” Her voice was calm, and strong. “Just remember our check.”

“Your-your favorite-room-” he tried. “Your favorite room is the-the green room.”

“And your favorite weapon is the war hammer,” she answered evenly. And it had been, back when he was twelve and just being allowed to start specialized weapon training. If it was the day he feared it was, he should have been given his first lesson with the whip only a few weeks earlier.

Slowly his breathing slowed so that he wasn’t gasping for air like a drowned man. His mother’s arms remained around him. When was the last time he had been allowed jsut to exist like this? Drawing comfort without feeling as though he had to give some back?

There was movement at the landing that caused him to jump.

It was Annette, looking just as she had before she died. Sixteen or so, always an early riser. She had their father’s curls and the green eyes of their mother, her hair pulled back and her silver staff in hand. Going for an early-morning warmup.

“Morning, Mama. Trevor.” Her eyes lingered over Trevor, undoubtedly trying to suss out what was going on as she squeezed past them to get past.

Their mother responded in kind, her lack of explanation enough to spur Annette on her way.

Once she had disappeared to the back garden, their mother gently asked, “What was all that about, dear?”

Trevor found himself searching for what to say. Could he tell her? What would it accomplish, if he was nothing but a child?

“I-I...I think I might have…”

She remained silent, waiting.

“I-it was a nightmare, I think. So vivid it could have been real.”

“A memory?”

“A vision, maybe. I don’t know.”

Visions were not unheard of within their family, but they were rare and only came at the most dire of times.

She just hummed. “Let’s get something to eat.”

Trevor watched in a daze as his mother, still in her nightgown, shooed the cook away and began to prepare breakfast. The mug of tea she made for him sat before him, leeching warmth into his hands. He couldn’t bring himself to drink it.

One after another his sisters spilled in.

First was Colette yawning, then Gabrielle with too much energy for someone freshly awake, then Annette done with training. Eleanor stumbled in with horrendous bedhead, Catherine right behind, trailed by Louise.

As soon as the last three entered, Catherine squeezed into Trevor’s chair beside him. If he hadn’t felt so far away he was certain he would cry at the press of his twin sister’s body against his side, one he had thought he’d forgotten until he’d abruptly remembered.

Catherine and him had shared a room long past they had to, and they did every lesson together. She used to be the person he told everything to, even the stupid crush he’d had on the gardener’s son.

“Didn’t have to drag you from bed today,” Louise teased, ruffling his hair as she passed.

He didn’t move, couldn’t answer. Their mother had to excuse him, telling them that he’d had a rather frightening nightmare. Catherine pushed herself, if possible, closer.

“Sticky rolls?” Pavel Belmont asked as he entered the now full kitchen. “What’s the occasion?”

Trevor seemed to wake up at the voice of his father. The scent of cinnamon and baking pastry was in the air. The cup between his hands was no warmer than the rest of the room. Catherine lined up against him knee to hip to elbow to shoulder. His mother still in her night clothes while everyone else was dressed. The dagger up his sleeve and his feet that didn’t quite touch the ground. His entire family that had been dead for over a decade standing all around him.

He folded in on himself, a sob falling from his lips unbidden. Catherine startled away to be swiftly replaced by their father.

“What’s wrong-”

“Trevor-”

“Is he-”

His sisters seemed to be trying to say something at once, as Trevor gasped around his sobbing as it all seemed to break at once.

Their mother sternly hushed them and for a few moments all was silent aside from Trevor’s hitched breathes.

She was on Trevor’s other side, then, brushing his hair aside and wiping away the tears spilling down his cheeks.

“Now, then, I think you should tell us about that maybe-vision of yours, yeah?”

Trevor leaned into his father, feeling as his arms tightened just so around him at the prospect of a vision.

“The-the church. They’re gonna come tonight, with a mob. They’re gonna-gonna burn the house down, with-burn it with everyone inside.”

There was a gasp from someone, but Trevor was only picking up steam. It didn’t matter if this was only an illusion, it felt real--so real that he would never be able to live with himself if he didn’t try to save them.

“They’ll come after dark, in the snow. I-I snuck out, to see the first snowfall. I do it sometimes. I had to watch and listen--I couldn’t move I was frozen--and the fire burned for hours. I heard your screaming but they threw something on the fire--they barred the first floor windows and doors and stabbed Eleanore when she tried to jump from the second story--It wasn’t until the next morning when there was nothing left but ash that they pulled out the bodies. And I-I was left all alone in the woods and I knew everyone was dead. I stayed there for days, hoping someone else had gotten out but-”

“Shh, Trevor, it’s alright,” his mother soothed, something frayed in her voice. “Take a deep breathe, dear.”

“We have to leave,” he said frantically, clinging to her wrist. “Before they come, we have to go before they-”

“We will.”

And just like that he slumped like a puppet without its strings.

Many things could still go wrong, of course. The mob would realize quickly that there were no screams coming from the house, or anyone trying to leap from the windows. They could track them, like they tried to track Trevor when they finally realized they were missing one of the children through the mess that was his family home and the bodies which also belonged to the servants. It would be easier to follow all of them immediately rather than him, alone, days later, even if he had been hungry and traumatized.

Hearing that they were aware, though, knowing that things would be different, made all the possibilities bearable.

His mother stood and Trevor saw the frightened faces of his sisters. Even Louise, the eldest, the one who never seemed to be thrown off by the world around her, was shaken.

“Breakfast time, I think,” their mother said with a small clap of her hands. “We have a busy day ahead of us.” 

Their father followed her instructions of securing everyone a fresh sticky roll, tense but not afraid like his children.

“Mother-” Colette began, holding tight to her fork.

“Don’t worry, there is a plan in place for evacuation. There are, of course, our safe houses across the continent, and other places for us to go. Eat. We will be alright now that we have the warning.”

Trevor was too stressed to care much about the strained silence, but he did miss Catherine taking up half his chair.

[melforbes]

what's been your favorite part of writing seaglass blue? is there a part in particular that you couldn't wait to write? is there one you were avoiding?

to be honest i am 100% flying by the seat of my pants with this which right now is out of character so i haven’t exactly gotten to the dreaded parts yet lmao

i have an ending in mind (and a final line) that i really like but that i have a gut feeling no one else will like but i’m not compromising with it and i’m a little nervous to post that eventually. i’m not nervous about writing it but i don’t think it will necessarily come across well. Like it feels a little end of the sopranos but also it’s not like that at all but it’s the same existential vibe if that makes sense. which it doesn’t at all. but still

i actively avoid dialogue because it’s not my strong suit. i also can’t get the Mulder Voice right (deadpan snark etc) and then throwing in Big Feelings i’m just so out of my element

so far i shockingly haven’t dreaded writing any part of it. i did end up blocked with this last chapter because i hadn’t entirely decided what to do with the plot and the plot i’d thought through and didn’t actually use (and lmao have since forgotten!) just was not working at all so i didn’t write and instead did the whole running in circles thinking it through thing that isn’t writing (i recommend reading atomic habits by james clear ahaha! that running in circles motion gets a massive drag in there) that ultimately was never fruitful AND EITHER WAY i started a new drug for the other side of my life and it gave me wicked insomnia and at two am everything righted itself so i finally figured out where i was going. But that being said i never really dreaded it even though i oftentimes dread a scene or two in most chapters i write and i think the lack of dread comes from how it’s all set up in a very cozy way and it’s hard to dread something like that

i couldn’t wait to write the wedding which is why i dive into it so quickly. And i really wanted to interject parts of their “wedding night” or afternoon or whatever because those were my favorite moments to visualize. there’s another part down the line that i can’t wait to write but i also can’t spoil that haha. i think like...the most anticipated stuff i have coming up for the next chapter (or maybe the one after that depending on how the wordcount shakes out) is a specific conversation about specific things that happens in the dark. and uh i will not elaborate beyond that aldskjasldkjfdalsgj

my favorite part of writing it. this answer is so disjointed i’m sorry. i’ll put the rest of this under a cut because i’m rambling ahaha

my favorite part of writing it has been like...i think this is a multitude of things which is why i wrote msr again after a long unintentional break from it. idk if i ever really mentioned this (or at least if i mentioned it recently) but i started writing msr here in mid 2016 to rekindle my passion for writing while i was very very ill long term, and that culminated in the “everyday msr” archive i have on my ao3, which thus was a log of self-comfort in hard times as well as (unintentionally) documentation of how i neurologically healed during that treatment. so, bizarre. i was in a hard place back then and writing helped me keep my head screwed on straight, and luckily with msr you can write the shittiest things and someone will still be genuinely happy to read it and will look past any lack of talent or training or experience or anything and instead see you, someone having an idea and offering it to others, sharing something for the sake of feeling something good together. that (combined with my own personal gratification of having done something) really helped me emotionally during that time. like when you can’t be of service to anyone in the world, barely even to yourself, it’s really reassuring to hear “i was having a hard day today and this small thing you did eased me” and know that they didn’t need quality or exceptional talent; they just needed you to show up. i’m getting off topic but all of this is a roundabout way to say that i’m essentially back in that same place right now and have been for the past little over a year and like. It’s bullshit ahaha. like it’s absolute bullshit. But it’s strangely valuable to have this like...same connection as i had last time, just in a bit of a different way. it’s still msr, it’s still a kind of Happy Place for me, but there’s an overarching plot, i have other stuff that i write too, etc. but still, i appreciate being able to go back to an original comfort and form that comfort in the same way. the “everyday msr” stuff was intended to be just extended written-out headcanons about domestic msr post iwtb or post revival #1 that i could write in one sitting, and this isn’t entirely different from that; it’s just that the domesticity has a twist and a different era. but it’s the same stuff as before - pictures of misty places, gentle music, living based on the season, being a homebody, cooking for your lover, natural beauty. it’s nice to return to that place right now

another favorite part of writing this is that maine was an important part of my childhood. my family spent a week of vacation there each year (outside of bar harbor, not on mdi but right outside of it) and i kind of associate that purity with it. it feels like one of the only elements of childhood that i haven’t found adulthood corrupting. like we learn that disneyland is just a capitalist hellhole and whatnot when we’re older but maine hasn’t been ruined for me yet and i treasure that. And having them there feels special as a result. i very much on purpose didn’t label a town they’re in (or even base where they are on a real one lol all of that is glossed over enough anyway that i’m not worried about it) but it felt important and right for them to be in maine. it feels special to tap into the very brief time that i shared with the show while i was still a part of its cultural landscape. that sentence makes no sense. in other words i was born in 1997 ahaha. but either way like...i get to people this place that is already special to me and give them love and safety within it and that feels good in a way that i’m struggling to describe. And also i could go on some stupid rant about how Cell Phones Hurt Our Social Circles or whatever but i do genuinely miss rental houses that got 10 blurry channels on rabbit-eared tin foil televisions in a day and age when you normally got way more than that, all while you’re in an era in which boredom is still normal enough that all of that means “well, no tv for this week i guess!” and then you play a board game instead. it feels good to voluntarily create a place like that, then ask in my own life, why don’t i just live like this? And then to struggle through plotting something because there’s no digital numbing with television and smartphones and whatnot, and to understand my own hesitation, and to explore that a little more whether or not it’s in writing

another favorite part (yes i will in fact keep going!) is that the writing style is a little bit atypical from my current norm which allows me certain freedoms that i haven’t really opted for in a while. on the off chance that anyone has read any of my other recent stuff (though this is...a very small chance ahaha) it’s clear that these chapters are much shorter and less prose-heavy than my other stuff is, and that’s really helpful in that editing it is much simpler and writing it happens much quicker. if life were predictable and i had better self-discipline (and better health! can’t discount that one haha) then i could easily get a chapter out every weeks, in comparison to other stuff that i updated once every three months. i’m trying to keep each chapter to being about 3k in length (which they seem to naturally tend toward anyways, i didn’t create that metric so much as just went along with it) and there aren’t frequent “flashback sequences” (there are callbacks and past things brought up, but they’re not significant portions of chapters that go back and forth in timelines and make a nonlinear plot, the linear plot dominates and each scene is more or less in chronological order even if there are callbacks) so i’m not too worried about pacing or structure or anything like that. i never set out to make it “simple” i think it reads better this way and i appreciate that a lot because i can take a break from other stuff that’s a bit more jagged and just do this instead. it’s also nice to write something that i feel is more on the readable side than other things. i think my biggest inspirations for this (which i realized accidentally with the “he wants to brush her hair” line ahaha) were our souls at night and the sunlit night, both of which have a kind of dainty prose style and are a little low on long descriptions but can say a lot with one simple sentence. recently i’ve focused a lot more about darker subject matter and uglier parts of humanity so it’s nice to be able to focus on something that i feel like matters and has a more readable quality to it without actually sacrificing anything in the process or trying to dumb something down

so i think that’s it! that’s my thoughts! this is too long and far too personal! haha!

[elenatria]

Idk why I don't like thor treating loki like trash. Unless it's a kink of loki's then who am I to kinkshame a god. But thor being unkind to loki and all that name calling is a put off for me. Like treating loki like he's not good enough to love. I like it better when they bicker. Or have consensual hardcore hate sex or thor reverently kisses loki from the tip of his nose to the tip of his toes. What say?

Hi, could you be more specific? Which name calling? You mean in “Ragnarok”, or in people’s fics/posts/headcanons? If you mean mine or other people’s posts, fics and headcanons please anon ask me again about it with details and totally ignore this post. I’ll put it under a cut because it might be off topic, it’s about Thor and Loki’s behaviour in the films.

As for unkind, that’s a looooooong discussion. If you’re interested in hearing Loki’s part in Thor’s behaviour and his responsibilities I can write an essay lol.

If you think Loki is 100% guiltless maybe this is not the post for you, so please don’t read on. You’ve been warned! (that goes to everyone who’s not into that kind of of stuff.)

First of all, I hate to have to compare the two and try to find out “who started it”, “whose fault is it”, or just say “but the other one is being mean too”. Thor is supposedly “the older brother” and “the hero” and for some reason we all expect him to tolerate Loki’s weaknesses (and Loki does have some). Because Thor is “the nice guy”.

Well he isn’t. Not anymore anyway.

Unfortunately that’s how it goes with Thor and Loki, it’s a “which came first the chicken or the egg” thing and it’s endless. Thor was an immature jerk in the first “Thor” so… for some people it was a “good thing that Loki prevented him from becoming king so early”. 

Well that wasn’t Loki’s intention, was it? To “make Thor a better ruler”. It was an accident. Loki’s intention was to ruin his brother’s big day because he was jealous all along. What did Thor do to him to cause this jealousy? Well he was being Thor, the favoured son, and Loki was being Loki even BEFORE he knew he was adapted. There’s always rivalry between siblings so there goes the first argument. I’m happy knowing Loki is a trickster by nature and they’re both jerks and that’s that. Besides Loki said it himself, he didn’t want the throne, he wanted to be treated as an equal by their father. Was that Thor’s fault? Dunno. It sure had some grave repercussions on Thor: he lost his brother, literally and metaphorically.

Then we have New York. Some say it was Thanos’ and the Chitauri’s fault, Loki’s torture and the brainwashing. So Loki’s beautiful full-tilt diva act in Stuttgart was none of his doing? All that was just Thanos’ puppeteering? Loki had no involvement in it? How about his desire to be a god, a ruler, to be accepted, to conquer a world? Remember he doesn’t take for granted he’ll have a kingdom to rule (like Thor has Asgard) so he chooses Earth. His allies/tormentors helped him made that choice, but he still had a part in it.

Now see it from a New Yorker’s point of view. I imagine Marvel meant to show the whole New York battle as a kind of comfort for the New York people suffering 9/11. When it happened in 2001 no “New York” song would play on the radio and the Twin Towers were edited out of movies like Tobey Maguire’s “Spiderman”. It was a wound and it was massive and took ages to heal. Fast forward to 2012, 11 years after the attack on the Twin Towers and the wounds of the U.S. citizens were still fresh. So I can only imagine kids who weren’t around to witness 9/11 but heard it from their parents, or even the U.S. citizens themselves, felt some kind of gratification (if only a Hollywood-induced one) that… somewhere, somehow, in some parallel universe the war criminals who attacked their beautiful city, their home, got some kind of retribution: a nice beating from the Hulk, a muzzle and a golden cell in Asgard. 

Imagine all those people, all those New Yorkers, represented by one person alone: Jane Foster. Now imagine the man who loves her, Thor, and how he felt about it. So now you understand Jane’s slapping. “That was for New York”? Better “That was for the Twin Towers, bitch.” I’m sure that’s how many people felt although I dislike Jane greatly and hated her slapping Loki because it was bad taste, it looked SO bad, so tacky, so… girly. A stupid butthurt bitchslap.

So when Thor goes to Loki’s cell and “doesn’t let Loki mourn their mother” it’s because he’s still pissed, and he thinks he’s doing the right thing, having his brother locked up. I didn’t like Thor telling Loki “yes I need your help but you’ll go back to your cell after that” but whatever. Thor is cruel sometimes, he’s not perfect.

As for “Ragnarok”, Thor has come to a point where he’s had enough of Loki’s bullshit. Loki has lied to him several times (sometimes for no apparent reason), he has mocked his feelings (”Did you mourn?”) and refuses to remember the past being all fun and games. Sure Thor loved spending that time with his brother but that’s not Loki’s past, that’s not how he remembers it. After doing Thor’s bidding and following his brother in any silly adventure he chose, Loki decided to leave his own mark in the world. It just wasn’t exactly the right path. He destroyed a whole city in the process.

Then of course he faked his own death and let Thor mourn him once more. He banished their father because yeah, he’s Loki, he’s a trickster. And as a ruler he “directed most of his energies into narcissistic self-glorification and not so much time on good governance” (Tom’s words at the SDCC panel).

Now let’s go to Thor’s unkindness and name calling in “Ragnarok”. Thor calling out Loki on his past deeds in that cell was long overdue imho. Thor is done crying for him, putting up with his whims, forgiving him, letting him off the hook. Because every time Thor did that Loki tricked or betrayed him. I cannot blame Loki for faking his death in “The Dark World”, after all this was the only way to escape Thor and that cell. But the rest is all on him I’m afraid. What do I blame? What Loki said, lack of communication between the brothers. 

So far the only name-calling I’ve noticed from Thor’s part is him trying to lie about Bruce turning into the Hulk and saying to Valkyrie “There’s no beast, (Loki) is just being stupid”.

Again, I hope this wasn’t off topic. Feel free to ask me again with details!

[thinkingaboutsanfrancisco]

Sunday night, April 12th, 2015.

After the winter of running around with only ice in my veins, I'm glad I'm starting to thaw back to the peaceful default of time not being of the essence. It's hard to watch the clock like a hawk and let your existential worries take you hostage when you absolutely have no time for it to peculate. Either I'm in school or I'm trying to catch up on my assignments, I'm having lunch with Ray or I'm running into my dad as he's getting ready for one of his Chevron shifts, I'm helping customers or I'm stocking shelves, I'm picking up shit from S or I'm dealing it to Natalia... and I'm so consumed in all of it that it's only in these walks to the train station and on the ride back home itself where there's ever enough silence in my mind to allow the reality of to truly sink in. Honest to God, with the rate time passes through me nowadays, I'm stuck between thinking I still belong back in February, because that was the last month I can truly remember comprehending, or I've already expedited myself all the way forward to 2016. If it weren't for my dad's birthday last week and the fact that the A's are onto a rather impressive start, I wouldn't have noticed that we're already in the smack dab of April. I'm more than okay with it though. Breathing in this warm air is almost better than the Parliament soothing my lungs as I walk, but not quite. Nothing could ever top this reunion. 

Okay, well maybe not nothing... 

I wonder if Ray texted me back.

I haven't checked my phone since my last smoke break, which was about five hours ago, so maybe she has. Not like she has to or anything. Our conversation isn't the most vital, it's just the standard "Hey what are you up to?" sort of thing...except for with Ray, that conversation isn't completely boring because she's actually up to things. Last time I checked, she was at a late lunch with a friend of hers named Michelle at some place downtown that I'd never heard of. Apparently, they claim to have the World's Best BLT. She sent me a picture of her posing next to the sign proclaiming such, her silly grin as bright as ever, the sunglasses apt for the sunlight that's drenching her left shoulder... 

"Looks like heaven." 

It was my initial thought and I had to type it in a quick frenzy since my break was up. I didn't even get the chance to tell her goodbye...not like I need to or have to, she's not strict on formalities and probably just went back to her lunch, but something about it bothers me... 

Especially since I've come back to nothing. 

From her anyway. The only thing displayed on my phone screen is a series of play by plays from my dad about the A's, of which the only one I even bother to read is the second last one. 

1-510-698-9209: "Damn you Nelson cruz!! 8-7 Mariners...we tried there at the end but sometimes things are just too far out of reach :(" 

You can say that again... 

I swipe it out of my way and enter my password so I can text him back and call Nelson Cruz the biogenesis bastard that he is but, when I expand into my inbox, it's the conversation with Ray that I senselessly open.  The corner of my mouth falters even further, setting into a frown as I just review what is lingering in the air. That impulsive sentence. 

Why the hell did I say that? 

If I had the chance to tap into any of my intelligence, I would've seen the plethora of way more interesting and thought-provoking responses to her picture. I could've asked what made them claim that because it is quite bold. I could've asked her if she'd ever had a BLT, because, now that I think of it, I don't think I've ever seen her order one. She's pretty consistent with her fish and chips. I don't blame her choice, I don't even like BLTs that much...if it weren't for my fucking dad pushing the limit of his arteries by clogging them with that potent grease, I wouldn't even eat them. There is nothing about it that would be heaven to me. So why the hell did I have it in me to make such a fucking insinuation? To lift something to a heavenly status? Sure, I just went with the first thing I thought of, but...when you don't have time to think, you're going off of pure instinct; a primitive response... 

I don't know... 

I don't, but there's this feeling, this ache in my gut that's stirring and... I can't. Not again. Letting my mind run wild the way it did this morning was bad enough, but I can at least blame that on S. I think some of the fumes of his lovesick haze may have gassed me like the exhaust of the Bravada and turned me delusional. When someone is beaming the way he was this morning, it's only natural to want some of the rays to bask on you and you just start conjuring up energy out of conjectural reveries. 

But not again... 

I can't have that light cracking onto her. I can't show her even the slightest inkling that there even could be something. 

I can't have her knowing that what really looks heavenly is her in all of her radiance. 

And she won't. 

Not from that stupid message, that's for sure. She merely thinks I'm being overdramatically wistful about BLTs and that's perfectly fine. It's not out of left field in her eyes. She's seen me eat them, she thinks I like them more than I really do, otherwise, she wouldn't have enlightened me with that fact in the first place. She was practically expecting that sort of response. 

Everything is normal.

It's all the same as it was five minutes ago. It's all the same as it was five hours ago when I was texting her and the words were tumbling out as casually as they always do. It's all the same as it always was.

And always will be. 

With that, the screen dims to black because I haven't interacted with it, and I shove the phone in my pocket and pull out my burner. 

Maybe I'll have better luck with this one. 

I can't believe I'm eager to look at it since usually it's the other way around, but...fuck, I have been a little off my typical mark today. This weird twist of fate shouldn't surprise me at all. What I'm hoping to find is a response to my apology from last night's deserted customer. Customers can be a fickle bunch when it comes to forgiveness. Most of the time, I've found that a slight fuck up like this only pisses them off until the millisecond they get their hit from either you or someone else, then their gratification induces them into some sort of amnesia and everything is all in the clear. It's just another park, another Sunday. Of course, you never really know and it only takes one fucking lunatic to fly off the handle and make up for all of the decent, merciful, addled-amnesiacs, but I'm not going to throw myself into the furnace of paranoia over this guy. I don't think it's necessary...especially with the response I got. 

1-415-224-4618 "nah u good, i gotta stay off the shit tn. gonna see my sis." 

Oh shit. Okay... 

While I type back and tell him to hit me up whenever, the comedown of both relief and guilt hitting me at once is a weird feeling. I've gotten rather used to not thinking too much into my customer's personal lives, because either they're way too chatty with it to where I tune out or their guilt suffocates them from saying anything about it at all...and I prefer to keep it that way. I have to. However, I'd be a liar if I didn't say that sometimes this economy of despair doesn't thud an uncomfortable chord in that dark chamber deep within my chest when I'm reminded of the ultimate detriment, the ultimate price of these transactions... 

So much for trying to make myself feel better... 

Thankfully, all I have to do is take a moment to breathe out my pent up smoke and I'm back into the state of false security and the temporary irrelevance of morality. But, it doesn't take more than a swift movement of my thumb to scroll onto another lowercase head trip.

S.

1-415-214-4412 hey…how are u? i’m not doing so well. uh, idk what ur up to rn, or where u are, and i’m sorry in advance, but i REALLY wanna see u if ur around. it’s about lyd. let’s just say i shouldn’t have gotten so excited this morning. sorry again. i hate to be a burden. u don’t have to come, but if u feel like it i’m at that park on howard street. yerba something. i forgot. 

"Shiiiiiiit," is what involuntarily spills from my mouth as I come to a halt in the middle of the sidewalk, just staring at the words like, if I do it for long enough, they'll give me some sort of answer because... 

What the hell am I supposed to do with t h i s? 

I have to do something. I can't just stand in the middle of this street forever, but dread keeps a grip on my legs. 

I don't want to get involved in this. I was perfectly fine being happy for S, because, believe it or not, I do enjoy seeing other people happy...even if they are my weirdo supplier. I wasn't totally comfortable with him or anything, but I think I came as close as I ever want to get during his story. I'm not aching to do it again, but it was a pleasant experience. 

While it lasted. 

Now, the sun has set and there's nothing but pitch black waters before me. They broke up. And...what the hell am I supposed to do about it? Why is he even asking me? According to him circa this morning, I don't know shit about relationships because I've never been in one---or, as he actually took the tactful way of translating it for once, "have yet to experience it". As much as I hate to admit it, he's right! I haven't! I know absolutely fuck all about the intricacies and feelings that go into them and I certainly know zero about the procedure of mending a broken heart. So what the fuck does he need me for? 

Oh no...is it a trap? 

Is he trying to lure me into a fucking park for some sort of vengean-- Stop. Knock it the fuck off. He isn't. He's not pushing that hard...he straight up said I didn't have to come for Christ sake, and I'm glad because I don't. The last thing I want to do is scour the uneven mountains that are the streets of San Francisco after already being on my feet forever and further scour some fucking park in the dark to get on a level I know shit about with the absolute last guy I'd ever want to be on that level with.

But I should.

My curiosity is a bitch. A real fucking bitch. The ball is so out of left field that it's plunked in the Bay and is being carried en route to the Pacific Ocean. Again, there are business reasons, but there's just something else there that's nagging within me. 

Does he TRUST me? 

Sure, this morning could've been a one-off. He might've figured that I was the only one awake enough early at that hour to even respond, but even then...there's got few other people who are in the know about his relationship with Lyd, some who would've been way more receptive to the call of duty, someone who would even be able to relate to any of this...or at least high enough to where they could improvise. And maybe there are. Maybe I'm just one of the hundred that he told and will tell. I don't know the answer to that, but, even so, it's still a good sign. He's lowered his inhibitions enough to let me into his personal circle, whatever the size of it is, and I don't know what I've done to be here outside of buying drugs from him to get in here, but we've come too far for me not to uphold it. Besides, I need to hear something besides for my own fucking shit for once. It'll be good for me. 

1-415-208-0013: Okay. It might be a while since I have to catch the train, but I'm on my way.

Send. 

Barely two seconds later... 

1-415-214-4412: thank god sorry again. hope the train doesn't suck too bad lmao.

1-415-208-0013: It won't. 

Send. 

Close. 

I slip the phone back in my pocket and ignore its subsequent buzz so I can cross the street over its intersecting tracks and not get caught in some freak MUNI accident, tossing my cigarette once I've made it over in one piece. 

As I approach West Portal Station, I stop and pull out my MUNI pass so I won't have to be that guy who pulls out his wallet at the barrier and makes two measly seconds feel like ten fucking minutes. Not like that would be a crushing blow tonight. There are more people around than there was earlier this morning, but they don't rob the tranquility. The barrier's a breeze, there's not much traffic clogging up the way so the train isn't too late, the seats are spacious enough for me to comfortably pull out The Catcher In The Rye, and by the end of the ride, I have to remind myself that I'm not the one getting off at Penn Station. Rather I'm jarred into Powell instead of the typical Embarcadero. It's closer to the park, but that promise is nothing more than a sardonic joke to the unfamiliar. If it weren't for Google showing me where the fuck to go, I'd instantly give back up and go back down nderground concrete mazes are a lot easier to navigate than the above ground ones. Fortunately, it's only a five-minute bustle around the block. Unfortunately, the second the yellow brick road stops at its' open end, all dread begins to sink in. 

I'll never find him. 

This isn't your typical sliver of neighborhood grass, nor should I have expected it to be. It's quite an impressive sprawl of land for such a cramped city. In daylight, I'm sure it's a nice place to be, but, right now, these fucking weird solar streetlamps aren't doing too much. There's not a bench in immediate sight and not a shadow of anyone of his stature sitting in the grass...but I can see that this sidewalk loops around, so perhaps he's at the other side of the park. 

If he isn't, he can get up and find me. 

With a deep sigh, I trudge on through with my hand in my pocket tentatively wrapped around my phone for when I give up and call him. My fingers get a little tighter with each fucking lamp I pass...until I see something up ahead. Several benches in the widened path, of which the closest one to me has a lanky man slumped in it, whose only seeming sign of life is the cigarette he keeps puffing on, only further highlighting the grimly crestfallen look weighing on his face. 

Holy shit. 

"Hi..." I say when I come to a stop before him, my voice perking at least some registration of the present into him as he looks up at me. It relieves a little upward twitch at the corner of my mouth, but it falters about as soon as it came. He just...does not look good. At all. I don't know what the fuck I was expecting him to look like but it wasn't this bad. There aren't any tears down his face or welling in his eyes, but I don't think there's anything in there to fire it up right now. He looks colder and greyer than the sidewalk, and, despite how he keeps puffing on the cigarette, I can tell he knows the smoke ultimately isn't helping him.Not like I'm going to be any better. As I sit down beside him and stare forward, all I can see is the mounting brick wall of the inevitable: What the hell can I even say next?

[everything-in-particular]

1-100 also 😘

Honestly I deserve this payback. This is gonna take forever to answer.

1: when you have cereal, do you have more milk than cereal or more cereal than milk?

More cereal

2: do you like the feeling of cold air on your cheeks on a wintery day?

I don’t know what winter is I live in Texas

3: what random objects do you use to bookmark your books?

I use literally whatever I have in my hand at the time, paper clips, snickers wrappers. There’s no cute bookmarkes It’s all dog ears and trash.

4: how do you take your coffee/tea?

In large quantities and in many different ways. Coffee, black with some sort of flavor. If not that then just coffee and creamer, no sugar. Tea is usually chai or black just with milk.

5: are you self-conscious of your smile?

No! And No one should be! Smiles to me are the most attractive thing about people.

6: do you keep plants?

I’ve had a succulent for six months and I have not watered it nor cared for it and it’s still alive so…

7: do you name your plants?

I have another succulent that has five stems and my friend named them all after the scooby doo gang.

8: what artistic medium do you use to express your feelings?

I don’t have feelings. But I have literally exhausted all artistic mediums.

9: do you like singing/humming to yourself?

My favorite thing to do is belt out songs when I’m home alone or driving in a car so yeah.

10: do you sleep on your back, side, or stomach?

Trick question I don’t sleep

11: what’s an inner joke you have with your friends?

I have too many. With my best friend sometimes we just scream old people names at each other in text.

Example:

Bff: ALFRED

Me: BERNARD

Bff:  ALTHEA

Me: KEITH

Bff: KEITH!!!

And then with a couple other friends we have one where we yell the “Where are you” from Blink 182’s “I miss you”

12: what’s your favorite planet?

This one. Its really nice. lov the oxygen. having rings lik saturn here would be neato but its cool.

13: what’s something that made you smile today?

I was planning to make brownies tonight and then I gave up half way through so I just ate brownie batter and it was great, college is great.

14: if you were to live with your best friend in an old flat in a big city, what would it look like?

It’d be one of those open industrial plans with lofts and spiral stair cases and wooden frames on the ceiling. Big windows

15: go google a weird space fact and tell us what it is!

if two untreated metals in space touch they will bond permanently bc there is no oxygen to form an oxidized layer around the metal. Dont wear earings in the vaccum of space i guess. You’ll never be able to take the backings off

6: what’s your favorite pasta dish?

All.

17: what color do you really want to dye your hair?

Green

18: tell us about something dumb/funny you did that has since gone down in history between you and your friends and is always brought up.

We had the cops called on us because on of my friends barked at my neighbors dog.

19: do you keep a journal? what do you write/draw/ in it?

I have my notes on my phone and in it are about 807 entries ranging from random shit like a single word “zoo” with no context or explanation. Entire novels that I was writing and gave up on the last chapter, also conversations with no context between characters that I made up that have no names. Also, recipes for stupid things like Mac and cheese balls, ideas for artwork/stories/products. Essentially nothing is finished. I also have around 10 sketchbooks that have never been completed.

20: what’s your favorite eye color?

All of them but the ones that are like brown and then transition to blueish greenish at the edges at trippy and cool.

21: talk about your favorite bag, the one that’s been to hell and back with you and that you love to pieces.

I struggle with bags and purses. I always leave them places. This is why I am a very passionate advocate for womens clothing to have bigger pockets

22: are you a morning person?

If by morning do you mean when I wake up at 2pm? Because even then no. Don’t talk to me when I’ve woken up.

23: what’s your favorite thing to do on lazy days where you have 0 obligations?

Sleep

24: is there someone out there you would trust with every single one of your secrets?

Yeah it’s really nice.

25: what’s the weirdest place you’ve ever broken into?

Not weird just a new house that hadn’t been bought yet.

26: what are the shoes you’ve had for forever and wear with every single outfit?

See I get a pair like that once a year and  I’ll wear the shit out of it then they get holes and I have to get rid of them.

27: what’s your favorite bubblegum flavor?

Mint. I hate the taste of bubble gum flavor bubble gum

28: sunrise or sunset?

If I’m awake to see a sunrise I am not a happy person that shits too early. Sunset all the way

29: what’s something really cute that one of your friends does and is totally endearing?

Exist

30: think of it: have you ever been truly scared?

Yeah. I’ve been absolutely freaking terrified.

31: what is your opinion of socks? do you like wearing weird socks? do you sleep with socks? do you confine yourself to white sock hell? really, just talk about socks.

I like cool socks and I enjoy wearing socks but also I cannot be bothered to actually find a pair to put on in the morning so I never wear socks.

32: tell us a story of something that happened to you after 3AM when you were with friends.

Literally every fun story happens after 3 am, id be here all day. 

33: what’s your fave pastry?

I fucking love Pillsberry Crescent croissants. Like don’t give me legit croissants made in France, I won’t like it as much as pillsberry.

34: tell us about the stuffed animal you kept as a kid. what is it called? what does it look like? do you still keep it?

It’s name is Chicky and it’s actually I think supposed to be a stuffed duck, but I was 2 so I called it Chicky. Fun fact, my mom and everyone would ask me if Chicky was a a boy or a girl because I would call it he and she interchangeably and usually just Chicky. And my response would always be. “It’s just Chicky” and then they would ask “but is it a boy or girl?” And my three year old self was just like “??? Are you not paying attention? It’s a Chicky” so yeah I was fighting gender normatively at a young age, I was a pretty woke 3 year old.

35: do you like stationary and pretty pens and so on? do you use them often?

I’m hella picky about nice pens but I don’t care how they look just how they write.

36: which band’s sound would fit your mood right now?

Of Monsters and Men

37: do you like keeping your room messy or clean?

It’s not that I like keeping it messy but it will always always always be untidy.

38: tell us about your pet peeves!

When people speak for me. Like when someone asks me a question and then someone else goes “Well Annaleise doesn’t want to-” or something along the lines of that. Like I’m right here and I can speak for myself thanks.

39: what color do you wear the most?

Gray.

40: think of a piece of jewelry you own: what’s it’s story? does it have any meaning to you?

I gotta small silver rose necklace that I got for my 16th birthday. And I haven’t taken it off since. I used always love painting and drawing and making a doodling roses. And my mom picked up on it and gave me the necklace.

41: what’s the last book you remember really, really loving?

Always Harry Potter.

42: do you have a favorite coffee shop? describe it!

I’m a slave to Starbucks but there’s a cute place on our campus called The Nook and it’s super hipster and they have huge chalk board walls for people to draw on which I love and of course they have great coffee.

43: who was the last person you gazed at the stars with?

Fourth of July a couple years ago with my cousins. My aunts house is on a lake and the sky is super clear and we could see satellites orbiting. First time I’ve ever seen satellites. Super cool.

44: when was the last time you remember feeling completely serene and at peace with everything?

Spring break when I finally got back home from college I took a heavy dose of Benadryl because of allergies and I woke up in my own bed feeling soft and sleepy and I had not responsibilities at the moment and it was great.

45: do you trust your instincts a lot?

Do people not?

46: tell us the worst pun you can think of.

No puns are the worst. but what do you call a cat who bought a house? A hoMEOWner

47: what food do you think should be banned from the universe?

Coleslaw and coconut water

48: what was your biggest fear as a kid? is it the same today?

I used to be terrified of lava and tornadoes and while I can’t say I’ve ever seen lava I now go outside whenever there’s a tornado siren so see if I can spot the tornadoes. Now my biggest fear is failure. Isn’t that fun?

49: do you like buying CDs and records? what was the last one you bought?

I like the aesthetic of record players but I do not have the patience to actually go out and buy one, pull out a record, and put it on to listen to the music. 1) because I’m all about instant gratification bc I have like no self control so if I can play it in two seconds on my phone then why would I go through all the trouble of a record and 2) I rarely like all the songs from an album. My music taste is all over the place so even if I like a band I like maybe 3 of there songs and they’d be from different albums.

50: what’s an odd thing you collect?

I collected coke cans and bottles. Like any special/old/limited edition coke cans or bottles I would keep them. I have a whole shelf in my closet. I now collect mugs.

51: think of a person. what song do you associate with them?

My brother and Kid Cudi’s “Mr. Rager”

52: what are your favorite memes of the year so far?

The funniest and most random to me has been the “Cask of Amontillado” meme. Also Bone apple tea and student athlete memes kill me idk why.

53: have you ever watched the rocky horror picture show? heathers? beetlejuice? pulp fiction? what do you think of them?

I fuck with Heathers (but the musical) and I have seen beetlejuice but it’s been a while. Not seen the others tho.

54: who’s the last person you saw with a true look of sadness on their face?

My mom.

55: what’s the most dramatic thing you’ve ever done to prove a point?

When I was younger I saw in a movie that trick where you put a chair against a door handle to block people from getting in so I used to do it whenever I got mad at my mom.

56: what are some things you find endearing in people?

I like when people get in a silly mood.

57: go listen to bohemian rhapsody. how did it make you feel? did you dramatically reenact the lyrics?

I can’t not dramatically reenact the lyrics and I don’t trust people who don’t.

58: who’s the wine mom and who’s the vodka aunt in your group of friends? why?

In all groups of friends I’m usually the vodka aunt.

59: what’s your favorite myth?

The Trojan Horse has always been hilarious to me because sneaking a whole army into a city through a wooden horse they made sounds like something I would come up with. It’s ridiculous but it still worked.

60: do you like poetry? what are some of your faves?

Yes, and not to be mainstream but Edgar Allen Poe is my bro and according to my grandma we’re related to him through his cousin. But in middle school I had a really awesome English teacher who was obsessed with him and I basically know “The Raven” “Tell Tale Heart” “The cask of Amontillado” and “Annabelle Lee” memorized because of her.

61: what’s the stupidest gift you’ve ever given? the stupidest one you’ve ever received?

I once gave a kids bop CD wrapped in candy canes for a white elephant. At another white elephant I recieved fabric sleeves that had tattoo graphics on them but it didn’t match my skin color. It was great.

62: do you drink juice in the morning? which kind?

TBH I don’t eat or drink until like 3 pm

63: are you fussy about your books and music? do you keep them meticulously organized or kinda leave them be?

Nothing in my life is organized.

64: what color is the sky where you are right now?

Black

65: is there anyone you haven’t seen in a long time who you’d love to hang out with?

Many people.

66: what would your ideal flower crown look like?

It’d have a bunch of different kinds of flowers that don’t match.

67: how do gloomy days where the sky is dark and the world is misty make you feel?

Super peaceful and chill.

68: what’s winter like where you live?

What is winter?

69: what are your favorite board games?

I loved Candyland as a kid.

70: have you ever used a ouija board?

FUCK.THAT.

71: what’s your favorite kind of tea?

Chai and Black tea

72: are you a person who needs to note everything down or else you’ll forget it?

Yes I do need to jot everything down because I will forget. But do I? No.

73: what are some of your worst habits?

Touching bad skin on my face.

74: describe a good friend of yours without using their name or gendered pronouns.

A super brave and bad ass who also has deep feelings and really cares a lot. Super creative and really hilarious. hot shit. coolest person i know

75: tell us about your pets!

I have a Maltipoo named Poppy and I love her. She’s super sassy and really smart. And yells at me through howling when she wants to play, usually with a toy in her mouth so it sounds super muffled and anything but intimidating.

76: is there anything you should be doing right now but aren’t?

Yeah actually I have a huge fucking project. I gotta make 3 vases for my Studio but instead I’m answering 100 questions. It’s my own fault tho. I started it.

77: pink or yellow lemonade?

Pink

78: are you in the minion hateclub or fanclub?

Minions need to die

79: what’s one of the cutest things someone has ever done for you?

If anyone ever says “I was thinking about you the other day and-” it’s my favorite thing

80: what color are your bedroom walls? did you choose that color? if so, why?

White because it came with the house. I hate it.

81: describe one of your friend’s eyes using the most abstract imagery you can think of.

a cool pillow

82: are/were you good in school?

I tested well and was good at essays but I was bad about turning in shit. So yes and no.

83: what’s some of your favorite album art?

Fleet Foxes

84: are you planning on getting tattoos? which ones?

In theory I love tattoos and in theory I really want one. Will I ever be able to decide on a design? We shall see. Also my mom told us that if any of us got tattooed she’s dissown us.

85: do you read comics? what are your faves?

I don’t like buy comic books but I’m obsessed with all things marvel and D.C. And so I’ll read online stuff.

86: do you like concept albums? which ones?

Idk what this is so i googled it and i still don’t have an opinion of it.

87: what are some movies you think everyone should watch at least once in their lives?

Forest Gump, The Princess Bride, Star Wars.

88: are there any artistic movements you particularly enjoy?

Impressionism, specifically Monet, specifically “The Magpie”

89: are you close to your parents?

I tell them a lot but I also have to withhold a lot. My mom is pretty, uhh strict, conservative and you could say narrow minded. My dad is a little more relaxed but he always goes along with whatever my mom says so I’m careful.

90: talk about your one of you favorite cities.

I’ve literally only been once but I really loved Pittsburgh. I liked the industrial vibe. I liked how it felt like a small town and a big city at the same time.

91: where do you plan on traveling this year?

My family’s trying to go to Canada so I’m excited for that.

92: are you a person who drowns their pasta in cheese or a person who barely sprinkles a pinch?

Drowns in cheese

93: what’s the hairstyle you wear the most?

Ponytail, bun, in a hat, in a beanie, basically any way but down. I have a limited attention span and any time my hair gets in the way I go crazy.

94: who was the last person you know to have a birthday?

My sister! She’s thirteen! Its ridiculous yesterday she was 6!

95: what are your plans for this weekend?

Working my ass off to finish this project and then little party I’m throwing in my dorm. The party I can already tell is a bad idea. Still gonna happen tho. 

96: do you install your computer updates really quickly or do you procrastinate on them a lot?

I have not updated my phone nor computer in years (not really but it takes a fucking while)

97: myer briggs type, zodiac sign, and hogwarts house?

ENTP, Taurus, Ravenclaw

98: when’s the last time you went hiking? did you enjoy it?

A few years ago and yes I wish I lived somewhere where I could do it all the time.

99: list some songs that resonate to your soul whenever you hear them.

Float on by Modest mouse is my life’s theme song

100: if you were presented with two buttons, one that allows you to go 5 years into the past, the other 5 years into the future, which one would you press? why?

Future. It’d be awesome to skip four years of this brutal program and arrive with a degree and a job. Five Years in the past means i gotta go through highschool again. Fuck That shit.

OKAY DONE SORRY FOR THE LONG ASS POST BLAME @jak

[dramallamadingdang]

Ermahgerd, somanyreplies...

Mostly because I haven’t had time to sit and answer ‘em.

So! For @mrningbrd, @simblrkersil, @emeraldfalconsims, @simper-fi, @holleyberry, @vampireacademysims, @penig, @serabiet, @kayleigh-83, @getmygameon, @stinkyunicorn, @alexbgd, @fuzzyspork, @crystaldollhouse, and last, but certainly not least, @strangetomato...

mrningbrd replied to your post “Well, this is a pain in the booty...”

Im also having ACR issues even though i 100% finished the story. Same exact issues too

mrningbrd replied to your post “So I had a bit of a think...”

I think i fixed my acr problem. Did u try taking it out and then redownloading it and putting it back in? That fixed it for me

Yeah, I did try taking it out/redownloading/reinstalling. Multiple times. And nada. It’s so frustrating! I was kinda disheartened when you said it didn’t work with having played the story, but reassured when you got it working. :) I mean, I know it works because it worked just fine in my initial install, once the story was played. So, I’m hoping that’s the key. I think it must be, because there are some fundamental changes with how the story neighborhood works once the story is completed. If that’s the case, I’m hoping it’ll still work even though I started the freeplay scenario before doing the story. 

So, I’m about halfway through the story. Hoping to finish it tonight with enough time to experiment in the other neighborhood. I’m encouraged by the fact that I peeked in the freeplay hood and the story rewards I’ve unlocked in the story so far were also available there. So *fingers crossed*.

simblrkersil replied to your post “So I had a bit of a think...”

Melissa Fancey, maybe? (IDK how you feel about her, but I love her XD horrifying flame pants and all)

It was between her and the adult Ivy Copur, actually! But in the end I went with Ivy because I’ve never had her as a playable before. :) I’m sure she’s thrilled to go through this torture.

emeraldfalconsims replied to your post “20. How has your “sim style” changed throughout your years of playing?”

I think the next time someone asks me what my aesthetic is, I'll just direct them to this post. :P

It’s tough when you don’t fall into one box or another but instead cherrypick bits and bobs from all the available boxes in order to build your own wacky box. :) I think henceforth I’m going to call my game aesthetic “Mutant Hybrid FrankenSHTEEN.” *nods sagely*

emeraldfalconsims replied to your post “So you’re stranded with seven other complete strangers on what may or...”

So I see overlay boxes work? Was not expecting that.

They do! At least the ones I installed do! (Male and female body hair and two tattoo boxes.) It’s likely because the game has the “heatstroke” overlay from Seasons. (And maybe the frozen one, too, but it’s sort of hard to freeze on a tropical island... :) ) Many things work, in fact, but some only after you’ve completed the story. 

I’m still trying to figure out the game engine the thing uses because knowing that will make it easier to predict whether or not a TS2 mod will work and/or which version of a mod to try first. It’s either Seasons’s or OFB’s or maybe a hybrid of the two. But it also has some stuff from BV, like the pirate ship. Those are all just objects, though; the beach lots don’t have surf like BV beaches do. (Which is a shame because it’d be fun to have @maybesomethingdunno‘s surfing mod in it, but I’m 99.8% certain that won’t work. :) And even if it did, it’d look weird without surf. :) )

simper-fi replied to your photo “So what do you do when you have way too many babies on a lot and not...”

BABY CORRAL! I love it!

holleyberry replied to your photo “So what do you do when you have way too many babies on a lot and not...”

Haha! That is awesome.

Heh. It was one of those ideas “born” out of desperation. I had seven babies at the time, couldn’t afford cribs (But I decided early on that rock “fences” would be free, in order to create “rooms” on the lot, if needed), and no one could sleep on the lot with a baby laying on the ground. (Which is SOOOOOOO stupid and needs to be modded out.) Hence, baby corral. It works. For babies, anyway. :)

vampireacademysims replied to your photo “So what do you do when you have way too many babies on a lot and not...”

Lmaaao! Wow I'd go crazy, I cursed my life each time I got quadruplets, now imagine this XD

Well, it helps that there are 8 adults to share the load. :) Nine babies isn’t so bad with 8 adults around, as it’s almost a 1:1 ratio, so long as no one slacks. *side-eyes Orlando Centowski* It’s just that they can’t do much else besides baby/toddler care other than occasionally shoving something edible in their face and maybe taking a nap here and there. :) In a normal two-parent household where at least one has a job, I pull my hair out with just twins. Maybe I won’t, so much, after doing this, though...

penig replied to your post “Preggo Ben!”

At the volume there's about to be, it hardly matters anyhow - nearest person deals with whoever's howling.

Ah, but the problem is that they’re ALL howling at once. :) Basically, they all have to cry themselves to sleep, since there are no cribs to put them in. Well, I do have ONE crib now, actually. One crib for nine toddlers. They get rotated in and out of it. I could buy more now, but the toddlers are all going to age up soon -- and there’s no “selling back” according to the rules I’m using for this scenario -- so I think I might want to save the resources for other things. Like more leaf beds. Hopefully children can use those.... And maybe some hammocks for the adults. I think they’ve earned them. I shudder to think of the hell it must’ve been hell to sleep on the ground in the third trimester...

serabiet replied to your post “In this Castaway scenario I’m playing, the castaway’d townies must use...”

why am i getting incoming village of the damned vibes off this development

It is kind of like that, actually... *laugh* Thankfully the lots in the game are big. Lots of a room for a tribe of the damned children.

kayleigh-83 replied to your photoset “When you spend hours on stuff that’s purely, uselessly decorative....”

Ahh you to so much more trouble than I do! I wish I had the patience to plan it out and apply it. My strategy for making my neighbourhood look better is essentially MOAR TREES!!!

More trees is my go-to, too! :) But actually, I don’t plan this sort of thing. It’s more like, “Hey, that lot opened the Athletic career! Now they need someplace to play.” *plops down baseball diamond in random spot* Then it’s, “Hmmmm, that looks really out of context. *moves baseball diamond close to lot that unlocked the career* Then it’s, “If people are gonna come see the game, they’ll need some place to park their car.” *builds adjacent completely useless deco parking lot* Then it’s, “I’m envisioning cracked windshields. Plus, how’re they gonna tell if it’s a home run?” *plots strategy to put lots under baseball diamond just so that fences can be built.* And on and on.

It’d be so much easier if I could just plop down the hood deco and be done with it, but I...just...can’t....

getmygameon replied to your photoset “So this is what I decided to do with Castaway. Take 8 of...”

Very neat :) you're really making that game your bitch aren't you? LOL jk XD

I’m tryin’! Although lately, it’s more like I’m the game’s bitch, jumping through hoops trying to make things work the way I want. :)                 

stinkyunicorn replied to your photoset “Komei has a “job” as a hunter, so he’s off the lot for a chunk of...”

"Hard row to hoe in this scenario"... You're a poet and didn't know it. I'm enjoying all your Castaway posts!

I’m glad you’re enjoying them! :) I’m having a blast playing it. It’s a great change-of-pace for when I get in one of those “I don’t feel like loading TS2″ moods. And it’s like instant gratification because the game loads instantly, so I can go in and out of the game to screw around with things and test out bizarre, wild hair ideas really easily.

And it was totally accidental poetry; I didn’t even realize it rhymed beyond “row to hoe” until you pointed it out. :)

alexbgd replied to your post “Goopy in Wonderland. :)”

a zoo with sims..

Preeeeeety much, yes. :)

holleyberry replied to your post “Goopy in Wonderland. :)”

Come on Goopy. Sandy's there too. Go after her man.

I totally thought he would! They double-bolt! They’re the only possible pairing with more than one bolt, I think. But.... Sandy goes for Ben Long and Goopy seems to like Andrea Hogan best. Go figure. They seem to be each other’s second-faves, though. And it’s not like it really matters since it’s basically one big polyamorous clan. Which is exactly what I wanted. 

fuzzyspork replied to your post “Goopy in Wonderland. :)”

At least those sand mites he just acquired in his nether crevisce will keep him company. XD

Poor Goopy. Only the lice and the stink bugs love him. :) Well, OK, that’s not true. Everyone loves him except Marisa Bendett; those two are oil and water, apparently.

crystaldollhouse replied to your post “Goopy in Wonderland. :)”

This looks so fun :D

It’s realllllllllllllly fun. Very addictive, too. And beyond being fun to play, it’s really fun to experiment with it, too, to see what’ll work and what won’t. 

strangetomato replied to your photoset “So this is what I decided to do with Castaway. Take 8 of...”

I agree with Fuzzy. this makes me want to play Castaway again too. Maybe I'll start loading that up again as a "just for fun" game.

DO EEEEET! You know you want to. Come to the dark side...

fuzzyspork replied to your photoset “So this is what I decided to do with Castaway. Take 8 of...”

You make me want to track down a copy of Castaway! I'll forever kick myself for not buying the one I saw at a thrift store last year. D;

*cough*games4theworld*cough* I pirated mine, and that site is nice. (No creepy porn ads, at least! :) ) The game’s not legitimately for sale new and unused anymore, so unless you can find a used copy, pirating is actually more ethical than paying more than retail to some shady online “store” that doesn’t have the right to sell it for those prices. *gets very irked at “stores” who ignore retail agreements*  Either way, EA doesn’t get any money out of it, so...eh. :)

emeraldfalconsims replied to your post “Drat! Dang! DOUBLE DRAT!”

This is probably not helpful at all, but I just discovered that in TS2 there's a settings option to add the Pets unlocks from codes shared with friends. I suppose it's too much to hope that they've done that for CS as well.

Not that I know of. I searched around a lot and read lots of “game strategy/hint” websites, and didn’t find anything about it. Buuuuuut, as it turns out I’m playing the story, anyway. In the end, you’re kind of forced to, at least if you ever want to use any of the electricity-dependent items in it. I’m just kind of blitzing through it to collect up all the story rewards, including some I missed on my first play-through.

emeraldfalconsims replied to your post “corruptuslocus: Also ACR 1 vs ACR 2 I know ACR 2 has more features...”

I only use V.1, and the only thing I know of to miss is autonomous proposals and go steadys. Have you seen this much with V.2, Icad?

Last I heard, twojeffs never got the auto proposals/go-steadys working in V.2, anyway. V.2′s kind of an eternal beta, as I understand it. The biggest differences between the two is that in v.2 you have far more control over the settings on a Sim level, so it’s much MUCH more customizable than v.1 is. It also has some settings that I really like, like setting a Sim’s “ideal family size” which further moderates whether or not a pair will try for baby. That being said, you have to fiddle with those settings manually on a Sim-by-Sim basis to get the full effect, which can be tedious unless you’re a person like me who gets off on tedium. So, like I said, which version is “better” really depends on how much control you want to have and how much effort you’re willing to put into it. I like v.2 a lot better, personally, but it requires AL/M&G, so I can’t use it in Castaway.