my dearest dear || rylan oneshots, headcannons and more!

𝙙𝙮𝙡𝙖𝙣, 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙘𝙖𝙣𝙣𝙤𝙣𝙨

𝐝𝐲𝐥𝐚𝐧

mentions self-harm.

.

dylan, a true spectacle. he'd be just fine one moment, and tearing at the seams the next. he was vocal. he'd thrash and scream, and throw his hands and arms about. the noise was to much, way too much. and he'd try his best to escape it. there was only one way he knew how, it was painful. bang, bang, bang, bang! he'd start soft, gently patting his head against the wall in an effort to silence the sound. then he'd do it again, and again until the only thing he could feel was a light buzz.

NO! dylan would shoot up from his pillow, screaming in the night as he awoke from a fictation from deep inside his consciousness. sweat dripping profusely from his brows, he'd collapse back onto his bed and rub red eyes with the back of his wrist. nightmares abused, tortured, assaulted his mind, keeping him up until the asscrack of dawn.

unlike many though, dylan refused to allow these to define him. dance was a favourite. he'd enjoy contemporary dance and ballet quite literally every chance he got. joji's slow dancing in the dark was a must and a constant. dylan would allow the slow, tantalising beat of the song take over his body, calm his stressed mind. he'd rent a studio, just for himself, to let loose and enjoy how the sound waves fit along his skin.

leaps, fouettés, pirouettes, they all made him feel alive, and a lot better than what he felt a few months ago.

++ more to be added 👨🏽‍🤝‍👨🏻