#Y’all I wrote this over several nights at 2am

[whiplashisthinkingaboutbakugan]

*Steps out from behind the curtain*

Coughs

I’ve put off the Dan Magnus post for long enough.

*Taps mic* Is this thing on? Ok ok…

The coldest take is that I like them together.

I’ve observed a fraction of you all (Battle Planet fans) from afar and I know it’s a cold take I know it’s the iciest.

But what if I wanted to talk about it anyway???

What if I think it’s funny….

This is not a shock but I’m a big Magnus fan. This emo boy is hilarious and every time he’s on screen the plot occurs.

The thing about him though is he only has important relationships with a few characters. His sister Emily and Dan. You can argue AAAnimus but honestly those were workplace relationships at best. He had a unique dynamic with Ajit in Armored Alliance but that was thrown out immediately after. He makes snide comments with Athena in Legends but like what does that amount to?? Nothing really.

Dan is the polar opposite in which the show is driven on the relationship he has with his friends. Obviously.

So if you think about it….Dan’s the reason Magnus is still in the show. OUTSIDE OF THE META. Outside of the fact that this is a show written by people and Magnus was a popular and significant character.

After S1 and S2 Magnus has no development until S5 when he officially joins the Brawlers. The mismanagement of his character from a writing standpoint in those two seasons in between is something I talked about, but what about from a narrative perspective?

Bakugan Evolutions is characteristic of what I’m talking about. What the hell is Magnus there to do? He shows up. He gives Dan some info, bullies him, and leaves. He doesn’t really show up again until Dan seeks him out.

My point here is that Magnus’ narrative post S2 revolves entirely around Dan. I can’t argue the same for his own friends because it’s not true for them. I do think that the Brawlers to get what I call ‘follower syndrome’ where they fade into the BG of Dan’s goals for the season but especially in S4 this isn’t completely true. Lia has her thing with Athena and that’s my best example.

In general I can think of a dynamic that each of the Brawlers have with each other (sans Athena but that’s a separate problem) that is distinct. Ajit and Lia have a dynamic. Wynton and Shun have a dynamic. You can see it if you’ve watched the show it’s real, their friendships are real. However I cannot point out examples for Magnus because of how the writing and narrative limits his pool of options.

As of S3 and 4 Magnus will have the occasional one off episode where he does something for himself/with a one off character but none of it is consistent. What is consistent about Magnus in these seasons? Orbiting around Dan.

Now let’s look at it from a character driven perspective. Why would Magnus, a guy who barely hangs out with anybody, as evident from my previous statements, be running into these kids so much? Sure Magnus wants to save the world but he very often believes he can do that on his own without the Brawlers help. He would only be meeting them at the end of seasons then if he truly wanted to avoid them entirely.

“Researching the Bakugan academy?” Whatever the hell he was doing in S3 before they wrote him off in Vestroia??? NO. That doesn’t make nearly enough sense when these activities can be done without being witnessed by the Brawlers. Remember we’re ignoring the fact that this is a thing written by people and that Magnus must interact with the main cast for story to occur.

Some part of Magnus wants to hangout with Dan. And only Dan. I do not see him talking to other people I cannot recall him speaking to the other Brawlers properly since S1, Ajit specifically S2, and then in S5. Oh my god. He talks to them as a collective but Dan does most of the speaking to him. It’s like he’s allergic to the others it’s so weird. I don’t understand why they wouldn’t expand his horizons towards the others unless it said something about him.

People ship them cause this guy doesn’t wanna talk to anybody else ever! He talks to Dan more than his own sister!! Cause he thinks Dan matches his freak like no one else!!

I personally think this is insane behavior but WHATEVER EMO BOY. I GET IT. BE WHO YOU ARE 🏳️‍🌈

[katie-writes24]

Avoid The Bumps

Pairing: Lafayette x reader

Warnings: SMUT, fingering, light d/s undertones, public sex, language, translated French and fucking LAFAYETTE in general

What...me? Posting two fics in a week? Not me! AND it’s a smut? Wow. Yay me. Anyway. So, yeah. I wrote this months ago, though slightly altered. It was originally a poly!hamilsquad short fic, and I can still put that out if y’all want. But I’m proud of this. I don’t really know what made me think of this, but I do know it came to me one night at 2am, you know, when ALL my ideas come to me. So, enjoy! Let me know if you want to be tagged, and, as always, feedback is appreciated! ENJOY!

Road trips weren't always that great.

In saying that, Y/N had a blast on the way to Virginia, full of laughs, jamming to music, and junking out in the car. She was with her favorite people, and never thought that being in such a tight, small space could be so much fun.

Yet, on the drive back, it was uneventful; maybe everyone was just tired from the built up energy from the past few days, and it slowly came to a stop. They mostly slept, played music at a low volume.

Currently, John was in the middle seat, leaning his head on Hercules shoulder while Alex had his head in John's lap, all sleeping. Y/N was leaning against the window in the passenger seat and Lafayette was driving.

Y/N saw a sign reading that home was only sixty more miles. Thank god. She could already feel her bed, warm and welcoming, she couldn't wait.

Y/N startled as her hand was picked up, interlocking with Lafayette's. "What are you thinking about, ma amour?"

His tone fit the mood, light and quiet. It was late afternoon, and the sun was hitting just right on his skin, practically glowing. He was beautiful, absolutely beautiful.

"My bed," She answered honestly, and it made Laf scoff.

"You mean our bed, non?" He raised a brow questionably.

"Nope, when I get home it's mine. Nobody else allowed, just me and the pillows and sheets."

Laf rolled his eyes, "Whatever you say, cherie, goes."

She squeezed his hand and lifted it to her mouth, giving it a long kiss. Laf glanced over at her behavior, smirking before turning his eyes back on the road.

"Should we stop and get some food before we head back into town?" Y/N rubbed her thumb against his hand and he hummed.

"Sure," Laf looked at the big, green billboard and smirked. "Next stop is another twenty miles."

In the rearview, the boys were out like a light. Alex’s snores were loud, and John was drooling onto Herc’s shoulder. The latter had his headphones on, making it impossible to hear anything. Laf hummed to himself.

He moved their linked hands to her thigh, and Laf squeezed once. "You alright?"

Y/N nodded and leaned her head back on the window. Licking his lips, he lowered his tone, "Why don't you unbutton your shorts, ma ange?"

He saw her head bounce back up from the glass, swallowing hard. She looked behind her before whispering, "The boys are asleep."

"Then we better not wake them," Laf turned to look at her surprised expression, switching lanes after.

Several seconds passed before she released his hand and started unbuttoning her shorts, sliding the zipper down slowly. Y/N was worried that he would crash, but then again, she's seen him around the kitchen- the man could multitask.

Laf's hand crawled up her thigh, squeezing lightly before palming her through the shorts. Y/N let out a shaky breath, biting her lip and watching the road ahead.

“Relax, Y/N.” Her boyfriend said softly, pressing the heel of his hand down on her clit.

Laf moved his hand into her shorts, passing her underwear and diving straight towards her pussy. The pressure made Y/N shake, closing her eyes and covering her mouth with her hand, leaning back against the window.

She had learned two things about Lafayette during sex: he was an ass kinda guy, and his long fingers came in handy in the best ways. They never failed to make her shudder, and even though he liked to take his time, she could have them in her forever.

He started pumping his index finger in her folds slowly. The seat beneath her creaked as she sunk into it and lifted her right leg onto the seat, giving him better access. He took this opportunity and shoved another finger in without warning. Y/N gasped and gripped his arm with her free hand.

Laf spared a glance; her face was blissed out, eyelids hanging low, jaw clenched in order to keep quiet. He wished he could view her properly, but he brought this on while driving, their lives were in his hands.

When she clenched around him, Laf couldn't help but chuckle deep. If that's how she wants to play it. He quickly started thrusting his fingers in her, barely hearing the delicious squelch of her juices over the soft tune of the radio.

Y/N felt like she couldn't breathe, she wanted to scream out, beg for more, beg for anything more.

Yet, if she woke up her friends in the backseat, not only would she be embarrassed but they could cause a distraction, and make Laf swerve. She didn't want to be discovered dead with her shorts undone.

His rhythm made her whimper, finding herself lifting her hips to meet his brutal thrusts. A third finger almost made her cry out, but Laf quickly drew away before slamming right back in, adding his thumb against her clit. Y/N looked over at him; his grip on the wheel made his bicep flex, making her whimper softly.

Lafayette truly could make everything sexy.

Leaning her weight against the window, she clenched around his fingers and came hard, lips thinned and a hand covering her mouth. It was a pulsing feeling, literally. She felt a weight lift off her shoulders, though she doesn't know where it came from.

Laf pulled his fingers out and licked them clean, making Y/N clench again.

She met his gaze as he smirked at her. The Frenchman blew a kiss at her and mouthed, “good girl.”

Y/N let out a shuddering breath, buttoning up her shorts and trying to get her heart rate to come down.

For good measure, she checked to make sure the three boys were still sleeping, and, thank god, they turned out to be in the same position they had been in before.

She looked over at the smug bastard in the driver seat and looked down to find he had his own problem.

She smirked herself, “Think you could be quiet now, Gilbert?”

Let me know if you want to be tagged!!

[getlitaesthetic]

Oneirodynia

Drabble about a resident of Human Hall and darkAU!Belphegor. Content warnings for mentions and threat of death/assault/torture and generally dark themes. No smut, just psych-horror.

Oneirodynia

You close the door behind you and twist the lock—

click

—until your wrist hurts.

Under the handle, you wedge a folded chair. You're too exhausted to even turn the light on. And you don't know if you can face this room in its full emptiness. Sarnai, your roommate, packed and left last week. She explained to you why, but you don't know why. You hadn't shared enough of a language to understand. But she explained it anyway, in what you supposed was detail, with a steady, sombre look in her eyes.

It's probably not something you can — or should — chase up. And hey, having the room to yourself isn't too bad. You've since pushed the beds together and made a crash-worthy setup with the extra blanket and pillows. You shrug off your café uniform and hang it up, trading it for a T-shirt you thrifted. It's designed for a demon; it's huge on you, but it's comfortable to sleep in.

You settle down with your DDD. The familiarity of flicking through social media has a nice way of numbing your mind. All the shit you've seen today boxed into filtered photos on Devilgram and 280 character quips on Screecher. Jeremy's death in the greenhouse. Abiodun's complete emotional breakdown on the stairs. Worst of all, that woman with Barbatos at the café. She smiled as she paid you and then left with him, bell tinkling cheerfully as the door swung shut. As you tilled the payment, you noticed one of the banknotes wasn't Grimm, but a folded scrap of paper. You should have thrown it. You should have thrown it, but you opened it.

It was a scrawled plea for help. Details of things Barbatos was doing to her that you couldn't finish reading before the note fell from your shaking hands. A demon co-worker had snatched the note up off the floor. Naturally it's all over the Devildom socials now. You wonder if Barbatos has seen it. He must have, right? Well, you can't think too hard about it. It's not your business, it never was. Actually, it makes you angry. What the fuck did she think you could do about it? All she did was make your day that much harder and now you've got to try and sleep thinking of what she wrote, the drowning, the needles, the rope marks deep in her wrist peeking out of her sleeve as she handed over the—

A notification dings. Devilgram. Your finger darts to it. Solomon must have answered your DM! You could almost smile.

Nope. You've been tagged in something. You swipe. It's a dark image with fuzzy yellowish rectangles in rows. You tap for a closer look.

It's a picture of the outside of Human Hall . . . posted by @belphie.

Your window is tagged.

You jolt awake. The force catapults your DDD off your chest. A dream? No, you can't take chances. Grabbing your DDD, you poke the Devilgram app icon repeatedly until it opens. Nothing. No tags. You check Belphegor's account to be sure. Naught - in fact, his last post was two months ago. A picture of a human impaled to the ceiling with several spikes.

You sigh and toss your DDD back into the sheets. When did you even drop off to sleep? And when was that image going to leave your head? You swing open the window and attempt to shake a draft into your T-shirt. The cool 2AM air is bliss on your sweat. Gazing beyond RAD, at the sparkling night of the Devildom from relative safety, lights dotting all the ancient to modern architectural structures, it's beautiful in its own twisted way. Like a warped tapestry of world history, woven into Hell, poisoned by sin, centred by a looming blood moon.

knock knock

Guess you can't even have one fucking moment of serenity, can you? You carefully close the window, snatch a box cutter off the desk and approach the door. You nudge the chair under the handle enough to just about crack it open. Box cutter ready for . . . whoever or whatever's elected to be a box tonight.

But it's a woman, middle-aged, forearms crossed defensively at the sight of the box cutter. Sarnai. "Where were you?" You throw aside the box cutter and draw the chair out, opening up the door. "Sorry. Come in. I'll move the beds back."

Sarnai stretches groggily, closing the door behind her. "It's OK. You don’t have to do that."

"Nah, I'd much rather—" Your DDD sparks to life in the dark room as a notification dings.

You've been tagged in something.

You and Sarnai don't share a language.

The shadow stretching up the wall has wings and horns.

Your DDD goes dark again.

click

——————

Oh I know y’all were NOT ready for the perfection of this babe’s writing 😍 literally who needs smut when the psychological horror is doing all the talking for you?

(...Me, I do, but not today)

[saltnhalo]

inspired by if I can’t have you by shawn mendes, and this video

Dean looks out over the city lights of Toronto as the cold wind tousles his clothes, bites at his skin. His glass of whiskey, half-forgotten, is held in tightly curled fingers.

This isn’t fucking sustainable, Dean. Running from country to country, chasing your highs, forgetting about everyone who helped you get where you are.

It’s been two weeks. He’d thought time and distance would help, the endless string of shows and performances serving as a distraction, but it hasn’t. His thoughts keep returning to—

It’s going to get to a point where you put your music, your ego, above me every time. It already is. You’re blind if you don’t see it.

He grits his teeth. It’s not selfish to want to be successful. He’s worked so hard to get here, and now that he’s finally achieved his dreams, he shouldn’t be told to step it back. People want more. Everyone wants more.

…Almost everyone.

Goodbye, Dean.

Dean’s hand shakes as he lifts the glass of whiskey to his lips. He takes a tasteless sip, looks out over the hollowly beautiful view for another minute, then turns and walks back into his room.

~

It’s 2am in Montreal, and Dean lies awake in his hotel room, looking at his phone.

He knows he shouldn’t be doing this—he needs a clean break, otherwise it’s going to mess with his head. He trusts that Crowley knows what he’s been talking about, since it’s his management that’s made him so successful, and so he’s tried to stay away from everything that could remind him of…

Of Cas.

Clearly, he’s failing.

Every message that he scrolls past hurts more and more, every sweet flirtation or news about their respective days, shared comments and confessions of fears, aspirations, love. Cas’s absence burns like a hole in his heart, and reading his texts only makes it hurt so fucking much more.

Over and over, he reads: I love you, I love you, I love you.

Does Cas even still feel that way about him? Or has he moved on already, too over Dean and the consuming nature of his career to care?

As much as Dean wishes he could say the same, that he’s doing fine on his own and he’s happy…

It’s not the truth.

~

Dean’s hotel room in New York has all the comforts and luxuries that a young music star could ever want, but that’s not what he’s absorbed in right now. Instead, he’s a third of the way through the expensive bottle of rum that was provided to him as a courtesy from the hotel, drunkenly doodling images and random song lyrics into his notebook.

He’s trying to use his newfound insomnia to write new songs, but no matter what avenue he tries to take with his writing, or which themes he focuses on, his thoughts always come back to Cas.

He always comes back to Cas. And Cas always comes back to him—or he has done, for the last three years they’d been together.

But this time… Dean is starting to realize that Cas may not actually come back. No matter how many times he’s typed out a text, he’s deleted them every single time, and never actually had the guts to reach out.

Likewise, Cas hasn’t contacted him since the night that they fought. The night the he ended… them.

And that realization is fucking terrifying, because it’s starting to put things into perspective for Dean.

If he can’t stop thinking about Cas—not even when he’s onstage, or in his hotel with a glass of liquor, or even writing a brand new fucking song—then maybe he made a mistake in letting Cas walk away. Maybe he’s made the biggest fucking mistake of his life.

And if he can’t write a song that’s not about Cas… maybe he should stop trying not to.

He finishes the last of his glass, sets it down, then puts pen to paper and starts to write.

~

The song, in itself, is pretty simple. It’s Dean, in all his essence, saying all the things he would say to Cas and confessing just how much he’s missed him in the time they’ve been apart. It’s a long shot, he knows, and he might have done too much damage to their relationship already, but he has to try.

“Crowley,” he says into his phone, as he sandwiches it between his ear and his shoulder and fiddles around with guitar chords. “This tour is going to be my only one this year. I’ve gotta focus on other things. Can you make sure the press knows before my show tonight?”

“What? Dean, you—“

Dean cuts his manager off before he can get any further. “I’ve made my decision, Crowley, I won’t let you change my mind. Just get it done.” He hangs up the phone before Crowley can protest much more, and the accented squawking is cut off mid-rant. He’s got more important things to think about—like chord progressions, and performing a completely new song, and whether Cas is going to actually use the ticket and VIP pass that Dean had requested be delivered to his apartment this morning.

~

Dean sits in his dressing room, ten minutes before his show is due to start, and looks down at his phone. The news outlets have been going wild all day with the news that this will be his last and only tour for the year, but he couldn’t care less about that. Amongst all the people who have been texting him or tweeting at him, the one person he really cares about, really wants to hear from, has been radio silent. The most recent text in his conversation with Cas still just says we need to talk.

He tosses his phone onto the table in front of him and runs his hands through his hair. Regardless of whether Cas is here tonight, he’s still gonna play the song—he didn’t pull an all-nighter on it for nothing—but the longer it goes without hearing from him…

The more Dean worries that the damage he’s done is totally irreparable.

There’s a knock on his door.

“Come in!” he calls, spinning in his chair to face whoever needs his attention.

It’s Benny.

“Is he here?” Even if it’s not Cas at the door, Benny could still be bringing good news—news of Cas spotted in the venue, Cas waiting in the VIP area, Cas wanting to talk to Dean. Just from the look of Benny’s face, though, Dean can immediately tell that that’s not the case.

“Sorry, Dean. No one’s seen him. I’ve been sent to get you, the show’s supposed to start soon.” He opens his mouth, like he wants to say more, then closes it. “Good luck out there,” he says instead, and then the door closes again.

Dean tries not to deflate, tries not to let the news of Cas’s absence crush him more than it already feels like it is. A lot of people paid good money for their tickets tonight, and he still needs to give them what they came for, regardless of who may or may not be in the audience.

He pours himself a shot of whiskey, downs it in one quick swallow, then stands.

It’s time to put on a show.

~

“How are y’all doing?”

The stadium erupts in wild screaming that makes Dean’s blood thrum with adrenaline and electricity. This is why he loves performing live—the energy that he gets from the crowd has to be one of the most incredible sensations he’s ever felt in his life, and he smiles out at his audience.

“Alright, this next song is… kinda special, actually. I wrote it last night, and this is the first time I’m performing it for anyone, let alone several thousand anyones, so…” He laughs and shakes his head as he takes the offered acoustic guitar from a stagehand. “If it’s no good, then I’m sorry. But I wrote it for someone pretty f—damn amazing, and I was really dumb to let him go, so… if you’re out there, you know who you are.”

That’s all he can say right now, before his nerves and his fears get the better of him. There’s more, so much more, but it’s all for Cas’s ears only (if he ever gets a chance to say it) and so for now, he sits down on his stool, sets his guitar against his thigh, and begins to play.

I can’t write one song that’s not about you…

He can’t hear the audience past his earpieces, so he can get lost in the music, in the chords and his voice and the feelings that well up inside him. The hopelessness, the inability to move on, the longing and the feeling of wrong time, wrong mindset.

He sings out his feelings, everything he wishes he could say to Cas, closing his eyes halfway through and just letting himself go. So much to say, so much still left unsaid, so many feelings bottled up inside him with no way out. Even if Cas isn’t here to hear this tonight, at least it’s a start.

When he opens his eyes again, towards the end of the song, there’s a commotion by the front barriers, people turning to look at someone and the crowd making way for them and then—

And then Cas is standing there, pressed against the barrier and looking up at Dean, one person in a sea of thousands but the only person who matters most to Dean in this single moment.

His heart breaks open, raw and vulnerable, and he fumbles the next chord in front of an entire stadium full of people but it doesn’t matter because Cas is here. This means that maybe, hopefully, he’s willing to give Dean a second chance.

He plays the last few chords, sings the last few lines as he watches a reluctant smile tug at the corners of Cas’s mouth, and barely lets the last note ring out before he’s putting his guitar down and jumping down off the front of the stage. His security team move to intercept him as he nears the barriers, but Benny must say something into the comms, because they step down after only a moment.

There’s nothing standing in between him and Cas now but a metal barrier, and Dean closes the distance eagerly, as though it’s just the two of them and no one else. Cas reaches for him as he gets close, curls his fingers into the lapels of his jacket and kisses him. The crowd screams. Dean doesn’t care.

The kiss only lasts a few brief moments, but there’s so much in it. There’s relief, and frustration, and the joy of being reunited. There’s passion.

There’s Cas.

When they separate, Cas’s hands still cling to Dean’s jacket, as though he’s unwilling to let him drift away again. Dean leans close, the edge of the barrier biting into his chest. “You came,” he says, breathless and exhilarated. Cas is really here.

“I did.” His voice is quiet over the noise of the crowd. Dean leans in closer to hear him, always gravitating into his pull.

“You didn’t use the pass I gave you.”

Cas gives him a wry look, one eyebrow raised. “I bought my own ticket, Dean. Are you really cancelling the rest of the tours you were planning to do later this year?”

“Yeah. Someone made me realize that there are more important things than how many chart toppers I can release and how many stadiums I can sell out.” He pauses for a second, then adds, “It’s you, Cas. You’re the important thing. And the someone. Just in case it wasn’t clear.”

For the first time, Cas grins, wide and gummy and happier than Dean has seen him in a long time. “It was clear, Dean, but thank you. It means a lot to me that you’ve thought about what I said. Really.”

Dean’s heart flip flops in his chest, and he grins like an idiot. “I don’t know how I ever thought I could put anything above you, Cas. I… I need you. I want to make this work.”

The corners of Cas’s eyes crinkle. This time when he pulls Dean in for another kiss, it’s softer. Gentler. “Me too,” he says when they pull away, and the corners of his lips curl up. “I think you have a show to finish. I’ll meet up with you after?”

Dean can’t think of a more perfect way to end the night. “Deal,” he says, but as he turns away to head back up to the stage, Cas grabs him loosely by the wrist to get his attention back.

“Oh, and Dean?” He grins, and Dean leans back in, enthralled by him and whatever it is he has to add. Cas squeezes his wrist gently, his eyes soft.

“I really liked the song.”

[patsdrabbles]

Duet

Title: Duet Fandom: Dhani Harrison; Jakob Dylan Pairing: Dhani Harrison/Jakob Dylan Rating: Gen Word Count: 2054 Summary: “Anyway, you remember his cover of Must Be Santa?” “Oh my god.” In which Dhani is invited to do a Rolling Stone interview with a mystery person, allegedly an old friend he hasn't seen in a long time. And he is certain he won't get any sleep until he finds out just who that person is...  A/N: A dear friend of mine wrote a gem of a Dylarrison Jr. fic called “They’ve Trapped Us Boys” which made me low-key start to ship this ship. They I had the idea for this fic and let’s just say, I ended up giving myself a whole lot of feels. ❤ Thank you @szappan  and @savoy-brown-shoe for the kind support of this rarepair fic and lots of thanks to my amazing beta, @smittyjaws <3333 Anyway, this is 100% fluff, so please enjoy ❤

(links to AO3 and @ill-be-your-tennessee-lamb‘s fic are in the reblogs!)

It all began, as these things have a tendency to, with a harmless enough enquiry.

Dhani had received an invitation to do an interview with the Rolling Stone magazine sometime late in November. Now, that was nothing unusual in his books. He had done his fair share of interviews over the years, in part due to being his father’s son, in part due to long being a musician of his own right. Now, this invitation, though? It caught his attention far more than any usual invitation to an interview would have done. Because it required some navigation, some shuffling dates around in his calendar – and someone else’s. Just that Dhani didn’t know who that mysterious other person was, that was supposed to be interviewed together with him.

Dhani reread the letter a good couple dozen times.

It said that he was to be interviewed together with someone he already knew. Well, he thought. I do know quite a lot of people…

Furthermore, it was someone also from the music field. Kinda obvious. He scratched his head. Still doesn’t limit the amount of people it could be.

The letter also hinted that it was someone he had known for a long time - long was relative, wasn’t it? – and someone he likely hadn’t seen in a long time either, given what was known to the magazine and the public. It was supposed to be a fun sort of reunion.

That last part was what Dhani couldn’t get off his mind. Sure, he was thrilled and excited that they were – hopefully – trying to do something nice for him, but... Just whom was he to be reunited with?

He knew that it was supposed to be a surprise. He knew better than to get impatient about this matter. And yet.

So, a few days after the date for the interview was finally settled on, he found himself unable to sleep and opened his messenger app.

And created a group chat with all the people he could think of that the Rolling Stone might want him to meet.

 Dhani: Hi :) Any of you doing a Rolling Stone interview with a mysterious other person sometime mid-December?

Kris: Wtf mate it’s like 2am

Dhani: 2am where you are, perhaps

Kris: That’s fair

 Dhani yawned into his hand and replied immediately after Kris’s response.

 Dhani: 4am where I am

James: Not the one you’re looking for, btw. Sorry, pal

Dan: Nope

James: Want me to make enquiries?

Dhani: Nah, they probably won’t like that. Thanks tho

Dhani: Seriously, though. None of you guys were invited to do a RS interview mid-December? With me?

Jakob: Go to sleep, Dhanster

Dhani: Don’t tell me what to do, Dylan

Rufus: lol

Lily: Seriously, could you guys be any more married? :’D

Jakob: You know that’s not possible

Dhani: GUYS. Did y’all just evade my question??

Jakob: You should stop fretting abt this Dhani, it’s gonna be fine

Dhani: *eye-rolling emoji*

Jakob: Srsly, go to sleep Dhani, it’s late af

Lily: Yeah, we should all head to bed now. Sleep well, kiddos

Rufus: night, my American friends

Kris: Nite

 Dhani sighed and put his phone away. His friends seemingly weren’t involved in all of this. He should probably try to get some sleep instead.

Rolling onto his back, he pulled the covers up to his chest and squinted. There was still light coming from the other side of the bed. Dhani rolled onto his side and stretched so that he could reach farther across the body that was blocking his movement. Then, he swatted lightly at the phone emanating the light in question.

“Cat.”

“Hmpf.” Dhani pouted, but he only got a grin in reply.

“Who are you to judge?”

“Goddammit.”

But it was only a few seconds later that the light on the other side of the bed was turned off and Dhani found himself wrapped into a warm, tight embrace. He fell asleep within minutes, the mystery interview completely banished from his mind.

 The day of the interview came sooner than anticipated. The usual whirl that seemed to catch everyone before the holidays didn’t spare Dhani either, and before he could say “oh, I should have fuckin’ known it”, he found himself seated in a nice room at the Rolling Stones’ headquarters, right next to none other than Jakob Dylan.

Very much embarrassed at how he had allowed Jakob to fool him, he just buried his head in his hands and groaned theatrically. Jakob only looked at him and snorted.

“I never told you I wasn’t the mystery person!”

“You told me you wouldn’t be doing any more interviews this year??”

Jakob scratched his chin. “Okay, that’s fair. But I said that before I was asked to do this with you.” He grinned and didn’t falter even a tiny bit under Dhani’s dark gaze. He shrugged: “It’s not my fault, is it? And I have a feeling that this is gonna be fun, Dhanster.”

“Oh my god, please don’t call me that in public,” Dhani just breathed out in a hushed voice. “Seriously, Jake.”

Jakob nodded. “Alright. But in turn, you’re gonna try to relax now, okay?”

This was the moment that their interviewer chose to appear. He greeted them cheerfully and explained that Tony, who had done some interviews with each of them respectively over the years, wasn’t doing this interview because the whole editorial team had sent him on a much needed vacation.

“Guy doesn’t know when to take a break. He hadn’t taken a day off in three years,” Ryan explained to them. He sat down opposite of them and quickly looked through his note cards. When he looked back up, the cards in one hand, his phone ready to record in the other, he seemed to notice something that made him halt, however. Two shiny rings. He grinned.

“Huh, didn’t know you guys had gotten hitched.”

Dhani’s breath caught in his throat. Jakob noticed and placed a calming hand on his shoulder.

“Would you wanna talk more about your significant others today, or-“

“Maybe later.” Jakob gave him a smile and they began the interview, Ryan all too eager to hear whether the two of them were appropriately thrilled to have met again and be able to do this interview together. Dhani actually found himself relaxing after a while and had to suppress a laugh several times. Judging by the twinkle in Jakob’s eyes, he felt the same way about the interviewer’s excitement.

Sooner than anticipated, the interview was over and Ryan invited them to play a song together. This, too, had been hinted at in the enquiry letter they both had received last month, but Dhani hadn’t prioritized it as much as finding out who his interview partner was going to be. Now he wished he had.

“Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer is always a favorite around this time of year?” Ryan suggested with a smirk. Dhani couldn’t suppress a snort and heard Jakob laughing next to him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jakob giving him a nod and turned around. Their hands brushed when he did and Jakob’s smile widened.

“You know that Christmas album my dad recorded?”

“How couldn’t I? You didn’t stop mentioning it that holiday season.”

“True.” Jakob grinned at the memory. And the holidays that year spent with his dad.

“Anyway, you remember his cover of Must Be Santa?”

“Oh my god.”

“Yes.”

Dhani gave him a searching glance, then gave in. He waved his hand at Jakob. “Gimme your phone, I need to listen to the song again to at least make an attempt to get it right.”

Jakob obeyed – all too happily, if he was being honest – and turned toward Ryan. “Can we get a couple of additional studio musicians to do this in, say, an hour?”

Ryan beamed like Jakob had just hung the moon. “Sure!” And, after showing them to one of the studios, off he was.

After Dhani was done listening to the song a couple of times, they started practicing with the studio guitars they had been provided with. It was fast-played chords and almost shouting the lyrics breathlessly into each other’s face as fast as they could from there on.

“This is insane,” Dhani said when they took a breather, but he was grinning, enjoying the silliness more than words could express.

“You know what kind of life you agreed to when-“

The door burst open and in came Ryan, a studio band they didn’t know, as well as two cameramen with their equipment.

It was a blast. That was the only way to put it. They made it through the song on their third or fourth take, but the second the cameras were off, Dhani collapsed into a fit of giggles and had to cling onto Jakob to steady himself.

“That was fun.”

His face was red and Jakob looked at him like he wanted to kiss him right then and there. Instead, he wrapped his arm around Dhani and pulled him up against his side. Dhani shuddered, but the smile didn’t leave his face.

“I should have hoped so.”

They thanked the studio band for the job well done as well as the fun that they had had, shook everyone’s hands and left to say goodbye to Ryan.

Jakob’s hand had long left Dhani’s shoulder and, after a tentative brush or two against his knuckles, was now firmly clasped in Dhani’s hand. They were smiling and their faces were still slightly red from singing the fast holiday song several times in a row when they left the room together.

It was their giddy and relaxed selves that ran into Ryan in the hallway. While they thanked him for the fun interview and jamming session, Ryan’s gaze wandered down to their joined hands and he smiled. Ah. He wouldn’t need to take Jakob up on his earlier offer to elaborate. He felt that he had gotten the right idea and wouldn’t ask – nor tell.

“You guys have a good evening, yeah?” He smiled at them and shook their respective free hand.

“Thanks, mate, you too,” Dhani smiled and looked at Jakob with a fond gaze. He gave a gentle tug on the other man’s hand and, after another smile and nod at Ryan, off they were.

Once they had put on their coats and were out of the building’s front door, he turned his head toward Jakob, only to find the other man already looking at him with a gentle smile on his lips.

“That was... a lot of fun, actually.”

Jakob grinned, just a tiny bit smugly. “You did choose your spouse wisely, after all.”

Dhani just gave him an amused look out of the corner of his eye. “You didn’t choose too badly, either, I’d say.”

It took them only two seconds before they were laughing once again. And just like that, despite the freezing evening temperature, Dhani was feeling all giddy and warm again. To think he had stressed so much about finding out who his interview partner would be until earlier today...

“C’mon.” A gentle tug on Dhani’s hand. “I think dad wouldn’t mind us dropping by. Wanna go?” Jakob grinned as Dhani just buried his face in the crook of his neck. And didn’t move away.

“Huh. Dhanster?” Jakob asked and lightly poked Dhani’s back with his gloved hand.

“Don’t wanna move right now. You’re comfy.” His words were barely audible, as his face was hidden in the fake fur of Jakob’s winter coat. His cold nose was pressed against Jakob’s throat though, and Jakob tried to shift away from it – but to no avail.

“Alright, then. Then I’ll carry you.”

“Nooo.”

“Don’t tell me you still have your so-called polka dot PTSD,” Jakob half-teased.

Dhani only groaned and Jakob laughed.

“We’ve been married for how many years now?”

Dhani finally pulled back from Jakob’s neck and made a face as though he was pondering the question seriously.

“Not long enough for me to get over the polka dots. Never long enough.”

Jakob snorted and shook his head. Taking hold of Dhani’s hand again, he squeezed it in encouragement.

“So- you coming?”

Dhani gave a plaintive sigh for the sake of drama (mostly) but smiled back at Jakob and, squeezing Jakob’s hand back, nodded.

“Always.”

[a-secondhand-sorrow]

“Yeah,” she says, and Evan privately thinks that this may be the most painful conversation they’ve had. There’s still a look in Zoe’s eyes, something a little unhinged and a lot hurt, and he wants more than anything to get rid of it. He knows that it’s not his job, but God, he wants to. He wants to grab her hand and press a kiss to her temple just like he used to, to slide his hand along the side of her jaw like he did whenever she was upset.

(cont.) He wants to remind her to breathe just like she used to remind him to do, wants to trace the freckles on her cheeks until she’s giggling and her eyes are dry.

y’all know that feeling when you’re writing or drawing or even just thinking and drinking some water really late at night or early in the morning and all of the sudden it’s like you’ve managed to tap into the very specific emotion of longing you feel in your heart and can only hope to capture even a sliver of on the page at some point because it’s like three am and everything feels like a lot? guess when i wrote this entire passage! i also was writing this for the deh winter gift exchange and i started a little closer to the posting date than my comfort level really liked so that definitely contributed to the general emotional delirium in this fic. that’s part of why they actually meet face to face in the fic at all, bc my nighttime self wanted to write it and thus it happened. looking back on it i’m very glad they did have these face to face moments because it took the whole piece in a different direction and kind of..tied it together? at least it kind of feels that way to me. but mostly my thoughts when writing it were “hnghh emotion????” and letting my sad writing playlist guide me in some kind of direction

ok so....casual intimacy is like. one of my favorite things esp in writing because it’s one of the best ways to make relationships seem real, right? and obviously zoe and evan had a really strong and good relationship (minus the whole lying thing, which kind of complicates the idea of if it was strong and good at all, but personally i’ve thought that their relationship really had all of the tenets of a strong and good relationship despite That. obviously many people disagree and that’s fair and valid but it’s just...how i’ve read their relationship before and how i continue to read it) before he came clean and everything ended. but this is several years after everything ends and they obviously haven’t practiced this type of intimacy since their relationship together, and, you know, have barely interacted since breaking up. so it’s kind of a double blow where they’re extremely out of practice with being with someone they were that comfortable with and also not knowing how to...Not show that intimacy, since they’ve barely had a chance to unlearn the behavior. that’s exacerbated by the fact that zoe is upset and evan, although more stable than he is in most of the actual show, is dealing with some kind of emotinal journey what with applications and his relationship with his mom and the holidays and the lingering guilt he feels about the murphy’s and connor, all of which is overridden by concern (like he always is when it comes to zoe, since he puts everyone but especially her in front of himself. i think he even thinks “anything for you” at a later point, which kind of demonstrates the same idea that he cares about her so deeply even after all this time that he’d still do anything at the drop of the hat or the shift of a breath). once again, a side product of their time toghether.

it’s kind of like....once you know someone so well and then you’re not allowed (in some way) to know them in that Specific way again, or maybe you just don’t really see them again often enough to justify knowing them like that, how are you meant to react? evan is so used to doing anything he can to make zoe happy when she’s upset, and there’s also a part of him that feels like it’s the least he can do after everything in canon. mostly, it just comes back to that casual intimacy and the longing they both still feel for the relationship that can’t be salvaged—that he wants to act in that similar way because at this point it’s all he remembers how to do. he doesn’t act on it because he knows that he can’t, that it’s not fair to zoe or himself to pretend that their relationship is anywhere close to that level anymore, but it doesn’t shake that initial visceral reaction and all of the memories it bring with it, hence the entire paragraph. every single action i mention just felt extremely soft and like something that only two people who were really comfortable with each other would do. also just the thought of them actually living them in the present is adorable and fulfills every angsty bone in my body, so here they are in a hypothetical sense. we love a comforting evan hansen amirite

(there’s also something about the fact that he remembers zoe doing something similar, helping him breathe during his panic attacks, which i think is just pretty telling of what their relationship looked like)

and zoe, at the same time, is kind of...falling apart, but personally i’m a sucker for evan being a steady and calming presence for her when everything else is very unsteady (like when they’re at connors grave). so even though her mind is a million miles away i think there’s still a part of her that’s reacting to being around evan in a positive way. it’s also not good for her, given that just the act of being home has shaken her up so much, and seing evan for what’s effectively the second time after everything ended with their relationship and her invented better relationship with connor only serves to shake her up more, which is why evan sees the unhinged and hurt look in her eyes. i was also trying to draw more parallels between her and connor (specifically in the computer lab scene, but also just in general when he was upset) for reasons only my sleepy nightine-writing self knows. probably just for the pain of it, honestly. but also to show that zoe and connor were more similar than evan thought, they just expressed it in very different ways.

also at 2am or whenever it was this actually got down on paper i thought it would be brillant to have evan tracing zoe’s freckles, a. because i always write that in because it’s hella cute and b. because earlier in the fic i said something about him tracing her stars like constellations in one of zoe’s pov’s. star symbolism, man. i am a simple person. i see zoe murphy, i write about stars in a somewhat contrived and repetitive metaphor for love and naïveté and youth. any high school english student would roll their eyes at it extensively as their teacher needlessly read into it, i’m sure, in some universe where those metaphors ever get written into books. and no i’m not salty about english classes what are you talking about. but you know what? i like writing about zoe and stars and i’m gonna keep referencing it. it’s some good angst i recommend it.

this is...a rambling mess i’m very sorry.

tl;dr: when i write late at night on a deadline i end up leaning into painful emotions about wanting to comfort people but not being able to. zoe and evan has a good relationship but now it’s over and they don’t know how to act around each other.

send me 500 words (or less) of any fic i wrote for a dvd commentary on it

[landoftheoutsiders]

So I figured I would do an experiment on myself. I was already planning on doing a stream of conscious type thing tonight to try to figure out what some of the thoughts were that went through my head regarding my eating disorder... then I thought: but what if we added food? So. I have officially consumed an appropriate meal. There were many breaks, and holy fuck I haven’t been this bloated or in pain from food since being in a meal group (I’m also going to actually die if/when I try meal group again) while in treatment. I have walked my dog, smoked my two cigarettes, and I plan on being uninterrupted for the next hour or so. This, so far, is a bad idea... hopefully it won’t get any worse. This is completely unfiltered, so now is your chance to look away if you are triggered easily.

     First of all, I’m getting weighed tomorrow and this is not part of my weigh-in ritual. So I’m freaking out. I feel like most people that aren’t supposed to be losing weight who have weigh-ins regularly actually want to be heavier than they are. For some reason, I want to know what my actual weight is, and I would prefer for it to keep going down. (Also, kind of random, but I’m mad at how my Spotify put on Paint Me Black by Ben Hazlewood, and this is the verse that I just heard, “Stuck in my eye line is my one goal to make me happy, it's time that you go. I know I'm starving but I'll fill my hunger, I'll come alive and bring the thunder.” I hate everything.) Anyways, uh, so rituals before weigh-ins. I don’t eat usually around 24 hours beforehand. So I’m already panicking. I know my weight is going to be higher than what it was the week before, and I should be at the very least okay with that, but I’m not. I’m also pissed off at the fact I’m drinking soda because I normally only drink coffee or water. My “cheat drinks” are the ones I get from Starbucks, which I’m sure has more calories than a soda does, but I’m not in as much pain afterwards, and they help me feel better if I haven’t eaten that day. Basically, I don’t eat 24 hours beforehand, and I don’t drink anything until I go in the day of. I want it to be only my body weight without food or water weighing it down. I’m not even allowed to know my weight anymore, and I still do this shit which doesn’t make any sense, whatsoever. 

      I could have done all of this tonight. Crashy has been asleep since a solid 6pm, and my social media is actually fairly quiet. There was no one to make me eat tonight which is rare. I was definitely planning on it after last night too. Crashy and I went to go see Infinity War, and beforehand, he asked me if I had eaten that day. I was already laying down, so I ignored him and pretended to be asleep. Thought I was home free. So we go see the movie, I’m an emotional wreck because I wasn’t prepared to see anything that happened. I was crying and whisper-screaming no frantically at the screen. We were all a tragic mess in that theatre. We’re walking out to go to the car, and Crashy states that we’re going to Cookout. I asked him why. He asked if I had eaten that day (mind you, its almost 2am at this point), and FOR SOME REASON, just like George Washington, I cannot fucking tell a lie when it comes to this damned disorder. So now after the emotional roller coaster of Infinity War, we’re going to Cookout. I was in full panic mode, and I only got a cheeseburger, removed one of the buns, and asked if Crashy could put something on so I could at least be distracted. What comes on? The Office. Safe, right? Nope. It was the weightloss episode. And all I hear as I’m about to take a bite is Darryl saying, “y’all need to learn some portion control,” and Dwight saying, “Oh wait, Pam is on the scale,” then Michael saying, “We would love your extra poundage, but...” and I’m internally screaming. Thankfully Crashy saw the humour in it and changed the episode, but fuck me. So I wait until we’re almost home before I start eating so I can immediately get out of the car to smoke. 

     Eating has just gotten so hard recently. Like, my really disordered moments haven’t happened as often as they have recently in a while. Earlier this week, Tree and I went to go talk to Dr. B to talk to her about her book she wrote. She let us read the rough draft, and naturally we had questions. Afterwards, Tree and I waited for one of her friends to come to group so we could say hey and leave, but we ran by Starbucks first. I wasn’t planning on eating that day, but she had to and I felt like I’d be a shitty friend if I didn’t eat that day too (logic isn’t the greatest here, but hey, I’m eating). We get to the speaker in the drive thru and she orders my protein box that is a semi-safe 350 calories. I can attempt to do that. (Mind you, this is the same meal that led me to call Pink the week prior to tell him that my eating disorder was in fact, “that bad” and I should probably try to go to meal groups). They didn’t have my protein box. Instant relief. Then the lady says that they have some other protein box. Instant panic. The first thing that falls out of my mouth is, “how many calories are in it?” I asked Tree several times, and she wasn’t asking the barista, so I did, and there are 580 calories in it. The barista asks if I still wanted it, and I’m speechless trying to do calculus in my head to figure out what on earth was making it that high, and before I could say no, Tree said that I would take it. What is the first thing I do when I receive my box? I put it in the floorboard. I carried it out to the parking lot where we met Tree’s friend, and it stayed on the ground for a solid 20-30 minutes before I realized that I should probably eat it at the treatment center where I had people around me, otherwise, I wouldn’t have eaten it. I couldn’t bear the thought of eating it the way it came, so I went inside to the kitchen before groups got out to wipe off all of the sauces and roasted tomatoes while praying that a therapist wouldn’t walk in on what I was doing. Once I fixed my sandwich, we went back outside and maybe 30 more minutes passed until we started the process of eating. I had my box and Tree had her goldfish which was a lovely appetizer before her dinner. After finishing, I really had the urge to purge. This is something that has been slightly concerning, but I’ve just never brought it up because I physically can’t... but there have been so many times where I have tried over and over again, relentlessly, but my reflex just won’t let me do it. So I end up sitting next to the toilet angry with a few tears, frustrated because I can’t even do that right. But that day I found myself in the hallway with the perfect opportunity to attempt. Reluctantly, I decided to try, and then one of the therapists came around the corner and scared the shit out of me. Instantly changed my mind lol. 

     We left right before the group after dinner started, and I was in a really dark spot. I felt like no matter how hard I tried, this disorder would always have a grip on me, and I was going to be like this until the day I died--constantly fighting thoughts telling me I shouldn’t be eating. I mentioned this to Tree and her friend before we left. Tree reminded me that Recovered (a therapist there) had an eating disorder. She and I have often talked about picking Recovered’s brain about what its like to work with eating disorders, how she handles it, etc. So I decided I’d ask the question that had been circling my brain for the past hour: does it ever actually get better or even just easier? Surprisingly, but not really, she said that it does get easier. I’m not surprised because it honestly makes sense that it would get easier as long as I kept fighting for recovery, but I think I was surprised at how much it comforted me to hear from someone who knows what its like to be inside my brain say that. It helped, but I was still in a dark place, so I went to go look at things for my new apartment and to look at all of the cute animals in Petco. I really want a saltwater tank, so I talked to one of the associates for almost 30 minutes about salt tanks and the types of fish there are, etc. It was nice to have a non-eating disorder related conversation. Still though, my brain wasn’t really in a better place, so I decided to go to Target. My other happy place. Long story short, I have razors again. I gave my stuff up to Pink a while ago. 

     That was one of the hardest things I think I’ve done in therapy. I’ve given up razors before, but I’ve always kept the one. It was like a reminder of what I’ve gone through. It was like my scale. I took it everywhere. It was in my wallet. It was always there just in case. Fuck. I missed having it. I missed the feeling. So I bought more. I have a whole pack now. I haven’t done anything yet, but they’re there. This is one reason why I’m planning on getting a tattoo soon because I need that feeling. It feels the exact same way. 

     Speaking of things I miss, I was looking through old pictures on my laptop a week or two ago. We’re talking about the laptop from high school at the peak of my eating disorder. This piece of technology has allll of my old thinspo pictures from the several collections I had on my phone. Then I found my body checks. Honestly. I think that the body check pictures fucked me up more than the thinspo did. Some of the stuff I’ll reblog on here, I’ll think to when I used to be that size. Its weird looking at pictures like that now because before I thought I’d never make it, and now that I have and I think about what it was like being at that weight, I feel bad for the person in the picture because I know how much they’re hurting (to an extent of course), but I also cant help but to miss it for myself. I took pictures of the pictures to show Pink if he asked what pictures I was talking about. When I was explaining what time period was that the pictures were taken, you could just see the “oh fuck” expression come across his face lol. Not that I was happy to see him at that emotion, but you have to find the humour in the mess or else I’d be more depressed than I already am. 

     Speaking of Pink though, I was definitely going to show him this because I figured that it would be helpful for him to get a glimpse of me being vulnerable for once, but now I’m not so sure to be honest. I feel like this will get me put back in iop or php because fuck did we get dark. 

     Back to the picture thing though, I think the thing that fucked me up the most was that in the beginning, I remember promising myself that I’d stop when I could see my collar bones, then my hip bones, then it got out of hand, and before I knew it, I caught a glimpse of being able to see every vertebrae in my spine and every rib from my ribcage if I bent down. I remember going to my best friend at the time, Chrisley, and completely panicking. Why didn’t he tell me that I was that small, why didn’t anyone tell me? Why did people just ask if I had lost weight? Of fucking course I had. Why couldn’t I see the weight loss? Why did I still look like I did when I started losing weight? Nothing made sense at that moment. And somehow, the torture I had done to my body still wasn’t enough. You’d think that a person would remember all of those feelings and those feelings would keep them from making the same mistake. I have completely convinced myself that I will be okay with hitting 100. Oh, and thats because I got close to 110 and quickly realized that wasn’t enough. The fucked up part is that I’ll have a “normal day of eating” (meaning I’ll eat one meal... maybe two) and convince myself that I don’t have an eating disorder, or my disorder isn’t that bad. Same thing if I gain weight. God, it feels like it creates a physical sense of ambivalence deep within me. I fear I’m wasting Pink’s time, but I also haven’t fully made the decision to go back into my disorder completely. For some reason that physically hurts to even type, let alone verbalize. I’ve said it only once to Tree, and then later that night I found myself throwing up at a bar because I drank too much to numb out the thought that I may be falling back into my eating disorder completely. 

     I think I have a problem of letting people go/accepting when people leave my life--even in a professional setting. I get attached. There was one session where Pink made the comment where he said something among the lines of, “do you think that working with me is still helpful?” I remember feeling my walls quickly build up around me and getting really upset because he said that he wouldn’t give up on me (like several others in my past have... both therapists and friends), and in that moment, I heard that he was done trying to help me. We talked about it last week I think and that isn’t what he meant at all, and thats fine, but then I wondered if I was wasting his time or not, and it sent me into a tailspin. There was something I wrote down when I was still in iop, and it was in my gigantic “fuck you” letter to my eating disorder. The line was, “I’d do anything to get rid of you, but simultaneously do everything to keep you.” Ambivalence is a bitch. My eating disorder is one of the most comforting things because it has never left me, but it has fucked me over so many times and has ruined so much. Not just for me, but for my friends as well. I mean hell. One of them I’m terrified to wake up hearing that she’s killed herself, the other I’m concerned about her kidneys failing, and there are several who have just disappeared and won’t answer any texts or calls. I miss hearing from them. I hate watching us slowly waste away. I completely understand where they’re at though, and I don’t always want recovery for myself, but I do want it for them--but I know thats how they feel about me. Its just a fuckshow, and now my head hurts and I need a cigarette. 

Anyways, I’m going to go play around on my guitar for once. I haven’t touched her in about a week. I did finally get a name for her though. Jackie. Its actually the name of my grandma who passed away almost two years ago. She was a crazy motherfucker that my parents keep telling me I remind them of. I don’t know if thats a good or bad thing, but underneath the crazy was a heart of gold, so I’ll take it as a compliment. Sorry its been so long. I’ve been avoiding almost everything for the past month and a half. My thoughts included.

--Rian Dianna

[ptiasims]

Ayyy a question thingy I was tagged in.

100 Questions No One Asks

I was tagged by my name twin @thedancingsim. <3 

The questions and answers are under the cut because wow lol that’s a lotta questions!

1. DO YOU SLEEP WITH YOUR CLOSET DOORS OPEN OR CLOSED?

When I had a door, I slept with it closed. Now I have a little doorway that leads into the kitchen, like a bachelor suite so it is open... as there is NO door. But I’m slowly getting used to it. 

2. DO YOU TAKE THE SHAMPOOS AND CONDITIONER BOTTLES FROM HOTELS?

If I stayed at hotels often, I would. The last time I stayed in one, I didn’t take anything, though. 

3. DO YOU SLEEP WITH YOUR SHEETS TUCKED IN OR OUT?

They stay tucked in, I rarely ever sleep with the little flat sheet. I used to when it was hot, because I can’t sleep without something covering me, but now that I live in a little basement suite, it’s always cold so i can use my blanket. 

4. HAVE YOU STOLEN A STREET SIGN BEFORE?

I can’t say that I have, no! 

5. DO YOU LIKE TO USE POST-IT NOTES?

I tell myself yes so I can justify buying them, but I never do.

Yes, same here. I wish I used them. 

6. DO YOU EVER CUT OUT COUPONS BUT NEVER USE THEM?

I haven’t cut out coupons yet, but I have a feeling I will eventually in the next few months haha. 

7. WOULD YOU RATHER BE ATTACKED BY A BIG BEAR OR A SWARM OF BEES?

Bees because I think I would have a chance of outrunning them or jumping into water.

I’m going to go ahead and agree with this as well. 

8. DO YOU HAVE FRECKLES?

They mostly start sprinkling my nose in the summer, uner the sun. 

9. DO YOU ALWAYS SMILE FOR PICTURES?

Generally, yes. 

10. WHAT IS YOUR BIGGEST PET PEEVE?

Racist/homophobic/transphobic/etc. people who are unwilling to listen and understand how absolutely absurd their opinions on those matters are.

Tèa had such a great answer, that I’m going to leave it, because honestly I’m so laid back and in my own world that I rarely let things get to me for very long. 

11. DO YOU EVER COUNT YOUR STEPS WHEN YOU WALK?

Not my steps, but I have a habit of counting any stairs I’m on. Always. 

12. HAVE YOU EVER PEED IN THE WOODS?

Several times. One of my best friends likes to go walking in woods in the middle of the night, which is super great, especially when he purposely tells me about a ghost story just before we go into the woods, and I often end up peeing in the woods because I never go before I leave the house. 

13. HAVE YOU EVER POOPED IN THE WOODS?

No.

14. DO YOU EVER DANCE EVEN IF THERE’S NO MUSIC PLAYING?

There’s always music in my head, but yes I have done this. 

15. DO YOU CHEW YOUR PENS AND PENCILS?

Nah, I’m a writer, I respect the pens and pencils too much.

16. HOW MANY PEOPLE HAVE YOU SLEPT WITH THIS WEEK?

None, I like to be alone recently. 

17. WHAT IS THE SIZE OF YOUR BED?

It’s technically a twin right now, but once I get the second mattress, it will be a king size. It’s a daybed from IKEA. 

18. WHAT IS YOUR SONG OF THE WEEK?

I have been on a Hot Chelle Rae kick lately, so either Tonight Tonight, or Honestly. They are such a great summer band.  

19. IS IT OK FOR GUYS TO WEAR PINK?

It’s okay for anyone to wear whatever they want, what do I care? 

21. DO YOU STILL WATCH CARTOONS?

Not really! I watch animated Disney and Pixar, but that’s it. 

21. WHAT IS YOUR LEAST FAVORITE MOVIE?

Paranormal Activity. 

i’m also going to stick with Téa’s answer for this one, because another friend of mine likes to have wine night and watch horror movie night because apparently i’m HILARIOUS to scare the shit out of and this is one of the movies he enjoys making me watch. 

I should get better friends?? 

22. WHERE WOULD YOU BURY HIDDEN TREASURE IF YOU HAD SOME?

Omg I don’t even know, but I’d probably build something over it, too for extra safe keeping. 

23. WHAT DO YOU DRINK WITH DINNER?

Water or soda. 

24. WHAT DO YOU DIP A CHICKEN NUGGET IN?

Barbecue sauce 100% 

25. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE FOOD?

Ugh I don’t even know how to answer this. I love shrimp, Panda Express, tacos.. my mom made this wonderful crab bake and invited me over for dinner last night and it was so good. 

26. WHAT MOVIES COULD YOU WATCH OVER AND OVER AGAIN AND STILL LOVE?

Zathura, How to train Your Dragon (1&2), Harry Potter, Hunger Games (Except the first one)... honestly I rewatch a lot of movies. 

27. LAST PERSON, YOU KISSED/ KISSED YOU?

I made out with my boyfriend the other night at his friends’ house out on the balcony while he was loaded. Hi Joshua. 

28. WERE YOU EVER A BOY/GIRL SCOUT?

I was a girl scout, for probabl one season, but I did do a lot of boy scout stuff with my brother and my mom when my brother was in the scouts. 

29. WOULD YOU EVER STRIP OR POSE NUDE IN A MAGAZINE?

UNLIKELY. 

30. WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU WROTE A LETTER TO SOMEONE ON PAPER?

I wrote something to my mom I want to say two years ago, but I never sent it. 

31. CAN YOU CHANGE THE OIL ON A CAR?

No, but I do get a discount for being a student. 

32.EVER GOTTEN A SPEEDING TICKET?

Two of them. And on the last one, my grandma told my mom that “your daughter needs to slow down!”  AND MY GRANDMA HAS PROBABLY TEN TIMES AS MANY TICKETS AS I DO she has a lead foot!!! 

33. EVER RAN OUT OF GAS?

Not yet, but I do lock my keys in my car a lot, so let’s not rule it out. 

34. WHATS YOUR FAVORITE KIND OF SANDWHICH?

TUNA WITH SPINACH AND CELERY 

35. BEST THING TO EAT FOR BREAKFAST?

Cereal or like eggs or a smoothie 

36. WHAT IS YOUR USUAL BEDTIME?

Lately, I’ve been crashing whenever I’m tired so that’s anywhere between 7pm-2am. 

36. ARE YOU LAZY?

Oh yes, absolutely. I’m filling this out rather than adding text to the next Remedy post ha my bad y’all. 

38. WHEN YOU WERE A KID, WHAT DID YOU DRESS UP AS FOR HALLOWEEN?

my mom actually used to make our costumes, like shit she was good. but idk, halloween was never really a big deal to me, but I remember being a witch several times, and i remember asking for this one cloak during halloween solely because i wanted to play dress up with it for the rest of the year, i had no interest in it for halloween. 

39. WHAT IS YOUR CHINESE ASTROLOGICAL SIGN?

I have no idea?? I googled it and it says dog?? i’ll take it. 

40. HOW MANY LANGUAGES CAN YOU SPEAK?

just the one, but i’d love to eventually learn spanish. my name is spanish for aunt, and i can apologize in spanish, so i’m getting there. 

41. DO YOU HAVE ANY MAGAZINE SUBSCRIPTIONS?

Not a one. 

43. WHICH ARE BETTER: LEGOS OR LINCOLN LOGS?

EITHER as long as I can build a really big fort with it. that’s all i’ve ever wanted. 

43. ARE YOU STUBBORN?

NO. lol yes, completely bull-headed. 

44. WHO IS BETTER: LENO OR LETTERMAN?

I don’t care for either. 

45. EVER WATCH SOAP OPERAS?

Nope

46. ARE YOU AFRAID OF HEIGHTS?

For like two seconds, and then I get over it. 

47. DO YOU SING IN THE CAR?

Only when I’m in the car. 

48. DO YOU SING IN THE SHOWER?

Not so much anymore. 

49. DO YOU DANCE IN THE CAR?

Yes... always. 

50. EVER USED A GUN?

I’m originally from the states... it’s basically mandetory to shoot a gun. (It’s not, but I have used a gun, yes). 

51. LAST TIME YOU GOT A PORTRAIT TAKE BY A PHOTOGRAPHER?

Lol I think it was a family portrait when I was in grade school, so a good ten or so years ago. 

53. DO YOU THINK MUSICALS ARE CHEESY?

Some are, but some I love. It’s a hit or a miss. 

53. IS CHRISTMAS STRESSFUL?

Absolutely it is, but I love it. 

54. EVER EAT A PIEROGI?

Heck yes! 

55. FAVORITE TYPE OF FRUIT PIE?

I don’t like cooked fruit. 

56. OCCUPATIONS YOU WANTED TO BE WHEN YOU WERE A KID?

Actress, singer, and writer. So i’m really practical. 

57. DO YOU BELIEVE IN GHOSTS?

As much as I believe in breathing air. 

58. EVER HAVE A DEJA-VU FEELING?

All the time

59. DO YOU TAKE A VITAMIN DAILY?

Nah, but I should. 

60. DO YOU WEAR SLIPPERS?

I have fuzzy pig slippers that I adore. I rarely wear them because I want to keep them forever. 

61. DO YOU WEAR A BATH ROBE?

No, but I’ve been wanting to have one just to make me feel grown up. 

62. WHAT DO YOU WEAR TO BED?

Big shirt & panties, boxer shorts and a tank top, sometimes something... just depends. 

63. WHAT WAS YOUR FIRST CONCERT?

Britney Spears! And I got to meet her before the show. She had rened out my mom’s salon a few nights before hand so my mom went home to get me, take me back to work and I followed her around the store and told her DJ I wanted to sing when I grew up. I think I also cartwheeled around the store, but I didn’t even realize that it was her, I don’t thinkg, when I was following her around. 

64. WALMART, TARGET, OR KMART?

Target (I miss it in Canada, RIP) 

65. NIKE OR ADIDAS?

N...either. 

66. CHEETOS OR FRITOS?

Cheetos AND Fritos. 

67. PEANUTS OR SUNFLOWER SEEDS?

Neither. 

68. EVER HEAR OF THE GROUP TRES BIEN?

No

69. EVER TAKE DANCE LESSONS?

Yes, and I wish I still did. 

70. IS THERE A PROFESSION YOU PICTURE YOUR FUTURE SPOUSE DOING?

Whatever they want, idc as long as they’re happy. 

71. CAN YOU CURL YOUR TONGUE?

Sure can. 

72. EVER WON A SPELLING BEE?

No. 

73. HAVE YOU EVER CRIED BECAUSE YOU WERE SO HAPPY?

Only all the time. 

74. OWN ANY RECORD ALBUMS?

I do not. 

75. OWN A RECORD PLAYER?

I do not. 

76. DO YOU REGULARLY BURN INCENSE?

I burn candles, does that count? 

77. EVER BEEN IN LOVE?

I have! 

78. WHO WOULD YOU LIKE TO SEE IN CONCERT?

Ed Sheeran and Mumford and Sons again, and Maroon 5 again, Miley again... I don’t know about anyone else tb. 

79. WHAT WAS THE LAST CONCERT YOU SAW?

Awolnation with my ex ... NO WAIT, it was the last bit of July Talk which my ex was supposed to take me to, but I went with my friend instead. 

80. HOT TEA OR COLD TEA?

Hot

81. TEA OR COFFEE?

Tea for sure. 

82. SUGAR COOKIES OR SNICKERDOODLES?

Making me choose between two things I love is stressful. BOTH. 

83. CAN YOU SWIM WELL?

Yup! I used to take lessons lol 

84. CAN YOU HOLD YOUR BREATH WITHOUT HOLDING YOUR NOSE?

Yeah

85. ARE YOU PATIENT?

Most of the time. 

86. DJ OR BAND AT A WEDDING?

I like the idea of a band, but probably DJ for a better sound quality. 

87. EVER WON A CONTEST?

Yeah

88. HAVE YOU EVER HAD PLASTIC SURGERY?

No

89. WHICH ARE BETTER: BLACK OR GREEN OLIVES?

Neither, they’re both gross. 

90. CAN YOU KNIT OR CROCHET?

I can crochet in my sleep, but I’m just now learning how to knit. 

91. BEST ROOM FOR A FIREPLACE?

My room right now omg it’s so cold. 

92. DO YOU WANT TO GET MARRIED?

I’m not sure, tbh. Some days I do, some days I don’t. 

93. IF MARRIED, HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN MARRIED?

Not even a minute. 

94. WHO WAS YOUR HIGH SCHOOL CRUSH?

Aww, his name was Jesse and he was a cutie for sure. 

95. DO YOU CRY AND THROW A FIT UNTIL YOU GET YOUR OWN WAY?

Not since I was like 3. Okay... maybe last week. Just kidding. 

96. DO YOU HAVE KIDS?

I do not! But I have lovely niece’s and nephew’s whom I love so much. 

97. DO YOU WANT KIDS?

Only like three, or so. 

98. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE COLOR?

Yellow

99. DO YOU MISS ANYONE RN?

Seger, the pup. 

100. WHO ARE YOU GOING TO TAG TO DO THIS TAG NEXT?

Oh man, I’m gonna go ahead and tag anyone who wants to do this! and also @malcolmlandgraab 

oh shit wait, i’m also going to tag @vodkasims for the name twin thing!!