#listen i stayed up until 3am to write this

[mingtinys]

what dating seventeen feels like

pairing : seventeen x gn!reader

headcanons , fluff , misc

warnings : none

word count : 1.1 k

requested ? no

a/n: just a small collection of the things i love in life that i associate with seventeen

choi seungcheol

falling asleep on the couch and waking up in bed. chocolate-covered strawberries. the kind of love found in romcoms. expensive dinner dates and champagne.

cologne that lingers on your clothes and bed sheets. tight, bone-crushing, hugs. his hand almost always under the hem of your shirt, skin to skin (it grounds him). him letting you win when you play wrestle. cute aggression victim.

having a rock to hold on to amidst a raging current.

yoon jeonghan

diving under a crashing wave to find calm, gentle, water. rollercoasters with big drops. feathers. lavender fields. leaving the theater and realizing night has fallen.

always saying the same thing at the same time (it scares seokmin). naps on the couch. sending each other pictures of weird-looking animals with the caption "you" or "us." partners in crime. braiding his hair.

having not only a boyfriend but a best friend in jeonghan.

joshua hong

warm blankets, fresh from the dryer. pancakes and orange juice in the morning. raw honey. the scent of freshly baked bread. scented candles and wax melts.

lives up to the gentleman title. opens doors, bides by the sidewalk rule, lends you his jacket, etc. acts! of! service!! fighting over who pays the bill (he's actually ambushed your waiter to pay before you can even see the check). domestic, mundane, slice-of-life type of love.

a honeymoon phase that never ends.

wen junhui

walking down empty streets without a care in the world. morning cartoons. clingy cats. ice cream for dinner. frozen pizza with red wine. airport liminal space hours.

taking pictures of sunsets to send to each other. doodling on his hand. staying up until 3am accidentally. back hugs galore. resting his chin atop your head. him getting as close as possible when showing him something on your phone (i'm talking cheek smooshed up against yours). sleepy jun asking for kisses every morning.

living life in the moment because you know the future can wait for you two.

kwon soonyoung

energetic snow days. sledding, snowball fights, building snowmen. energy drinks and all-nighters. watermelon sugar. summer bonfires. the ambiance of muffled music through club bathrooms.

zoo dates. always wins you the biggest prizes at carnivals. his favorite place to nap is your lap. sweaty post-dance practice hugs. he gets pouty if you start a tv show without him. baking brownies at 3am. talks about you non-stop to anyone who will (or won't) listen.

excitement that isn't momentary or overwhelming. excitement that makes life meaningful.

jeon wonwoo

tulips blooming in the spring. waxing gibbous moons. amethyst. resting after a long, busy day. the scent of old, yellowed books. rhythmic clicking of a keyboard. warm, smooth, riverbank stones.

re-adjusting his glasses for him after every kiss. let's you design his character's outfits in video games. tells you about the book he's reading like it's gossip. he's always taking candid photos of you. quiet mornings. elderly couples who see you two are reminded of how they fell in love.

defining love not by how much it's said, but by how it's felt.

lee jihoon

thunderstorms that lull you to sleep. shiny, red guitars coming to life with smooth melodies. the crackle of a fire. rosemary. empty highways at night. lightning that strikes twice.

morning coffee dates at home. napping on his studio sofa while he works. quality! time! absolutely spoils you every chance he gets. pretends to act all cool when you catch him staring. writing songs for you. his hand routinely finds your knee when he's anxious. he prefers intimate and private acts of affection to the alternative.

cherishing all the little things that make your relationship important.

lee seokmin

wishing on dandelions. blue skies. morning dew on grass. golden hour. that burning sensation you get in your lungs when laughing too hard. iced lattes.

always asking permission to kiss you. so, so attentive. falling asleep on facetime. pillow forts. lots, and lots, and lots of nose kisses. him never wanting to leave you in the morning. "five more minutes" type of guy. his favorite feeling in the world is making you laugh.

finally knowing what it means to love someone so much you'd give the world for them.

kim mingyu

sleeping by a window with the sun warming your skin. hearing your favorite song on the radio. silky white sheets. first date jitters. first love. receiving a bouquet of roses.

admires you so, so, much. talks about you 24/7, much to his members' annoyance. (jk, they love you, they just like to tease him about it). literally a sponge the way he starts picking up your habits and slang. he's physically incapable of rejecting your puppy-dog eyes. likes to lay sprawled out on top of you. he'll often seek you out if he needs a little extra support.

the feeling that comes with knowing you've found "the one."

xu minghao

the autumn leaves changing. winter constellations. a solar eclipse. the quiet of a house before everyone wakes. those cozy granny-square blankets. white wine. laughing at scary movies.

wine and painting nights. him always making two cups of tea. art museum dates. swaying together to music in the kitchen. him secretly being a sucker for your doting. has your mannerisms memorized and prides himself on it. somehow always knows what to say when you're feeling down.

growing, learning, and experiencing life alongside each other.

boo seungkwan

warm, summer air. mystery flavored lollipops that somehow taste like every flavor all at once. rosy red cheeks.

teasing each other and inside jokes. nicknames like loser, stupid-head, idiot etc. (affectionate). hours long gossip sessions. kisses that taste of coffee and tangerine chapstick. stars in his eyes whenever you're doing literally anything. having his undivided attention.

resident happy pill and mood-maker seungkwan knowing he can let his mask fall around you without judgement.

hansol vernon chwe

watching city lights blur past in the passenger seat of a car at night. cereal at 1am. falling asleep while watching tv. poorly handmade, yet meaningful gifts. assorted candies. buying road trip snacks.

communicating with a single look. ice cream dates in the middle of winter. speaking purely in movie and tiktok references. late-night conversations that take a weird turn. (you've once debated if aliens would like pineapple on pizza). pretending not to notice how shy he gets when initiating physical affection.

loving the strange, bad, and hidden parts of each other as much as the good.

lee chan

the comforting buzz and motion of a subway at night. toothy smiles. watching reruns of your favorite childhood show. surprise parties. the first snow of the new year. concert lights.

driving at 2am, singing at the top of your lungs. random dance parties in the living room. getting noise complaints and giggling about it. pillow fights and board games, competitive, yet both trying to let the other win cause it'll make them happy. asking him to open jars. him getting exceptionally giddy to open said jars. (you're completely capable, but know he likes to feel needed).

making each other's inner child feel safe.

[starlingflight]

Hiya friend!

Do you think Harry calls Ginny by her full name when he wants to be a little shit?

Also, just want to say that I love the way you write Ginny plus the bestie moment between Ron and Harry.

❤️

Anon, this ask did something to my brain.

Firstly, thank you so much! That's so nice of you to say 🥰

Secondly, yes, I think Harry says it to wind Ginny up, and I think he gets more than he bargained for when he does.

To demonstrate, have this unhinged one-shot (drabble? Almost) I stayed up until 3am writing, in which Harry discovers he has a certain... effect on Ginevra...

AO3 or read below:

The first time he'd said it had been at Hogwarts; not during a sunlit day, but in the peaceful hour between day and night, when dusk had been gathering around them as they sat, wrapped up in one another, beneath their favourite beech tree. 

The temperature had dropped as the sun had receded behind the tree line of the Forbidden Forest. She'd protested at first, when he'd tried to give her his jumper, but Ginny's objections had been half-hearted, and Harry's determination had been absolute, and eventually she'd slipped the soft green material over her head. 

Despite the rapidly lowering temperature, something warm and content settled in Harry's chest at the sight of her, swathed in the soft folds of his jumper. 

She shuffled closer to him, her smile impossibly bright in the growing darkness. “I'm keeping this.”  

His arms wrapped around her instinctively, keeping her near as a teasing smile grew on his own face. “If you ask nicely, I might let you.” 

Her head tilted thoughtfully; her eyes were like twin pools of firewhiskey, reflecting what little light remained as she moved. “I'm not asking, though. I'm merely informing you.” 

Harry tried for a severe expression but the effect she had on him was too much; he doubted there was a substance on Earth as strong as her. His smile stayed in place. “That's stealing, Ginevra.” 

He watched, secretly delighted, as her lips parted slightly in surprise at the use of her full name. His blood thrummed with anticipation, eager to see how she might respond. Idly, he wondered if he might have been wise to draw his wand. 

The thought was fleeting, erased from his mind, as Ginny shook her arm free of the too-long sleeve of his jumper. Her hand reached out slowly; Harry watched its progress across the small gap between them, until her fingers curled around his chin, and his eyes closed for the barest of seconds at her touch. 

Her hand guided him forward. Harry followed her silent command instinctively, closing the gap between them until it was hardly large enough for air to pass between them.

“Don't call me that,” she whispered warningly, her breath tickling his lips.

She kissed him before he could see the smile threatening to break out on her face. 

◇◇◇

He heeded the warning for just over two years before saying it a second time. 

They'd gone immediately from Platform Nine and Three Quarters to Grimmauld Place, which had been utterly transformed from the dark, dour dwelling it used to be. 

He was leaning against the windowsill in his bedroom – their bedroom – watching with utter fascination as she zipped from one side of the room to the other unpacking her Hogwarts trunk for the final time. 

She was talking a mile a minute, catching him up on everything that had happened during her final term. Harry was trying to listen despite the lump forming in his throat, and the trembling in his hands, and the overwhelming sense of fragility that was threatening to engulf him in the face of such a momentous occasion. 

Her hair potion joined his aftershave on the dresser. Harry swallowed thickly.

Ginny didn't seem to notice, or perhaps she was letting him reach an equilibrium in his own time, either way, she flashed him a heart-stoppingly beautiful smile as she hung her dressing gown on the back of the door, right beside his. The effect was immediate. He felt himself relax. 

The blood pounding in his ears receded, and Ginny's words came sharply back into focus. 

“...I skipped half of my classes the week leading up to the final,” she told him with a sly smile that coaxed him into the easy rhythm of their usual back and forth. “Hermione was horrified, but I decided the extra flying time was more important.”

The corners of Harry's lips tugged upwards, momentarily returning her smirk. “I'm disappointed to hear you weren't taking your academics seriously, Ginevra.” 

The small stack of books she'd been carrying to her nightstand tumbled from her grasp to the floor. She crossed to him in three quick steps, forced to rise onto her tiptoes, and even then not matching Harry's height. Her eyes smouldered as they met his. “I told you not to call me that.” 

Something about the way she was looking at him turned his blood molten in his veins. “I'm just trying to make you feel at home.”

Her fingers curled around his t-shirt, pulling him to her. “I am home.” 

He kissed her before she could see the smile threatening to break out on his face. 

◇◇◇

Almost another year passed before he said it a third time. 

Harry was in the kitchen, surrounded by dirty bowls, cracked eggshells, and streaks of flour that ran along the counter top. The recipe book Molly had given him for Christmas was propped open in front of him.  

"Something smells good," Ginny announced, breathing deeply as she entered the kitchen, still dressed in her training robes.  

He leaned down, pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth in greeting, the gesture so natural now that he did it unthinkingly. 

“Attempt number six,” he informed her, inclining his head towards the oven, where his latest endeavour at a birthday cake for Teddy was baking. 

Ginny's eyebrows rose in surprise. “You've been busy.” He'd been on attempt number three when she'd left for practice. 

“I can't get it to rise properly.” 

He didn't fool himself into believing she couldn't hear the edge of frustration in his voice. Her hand squeezed his arm in silent reassurance. “Andromeda said she was happy to make it.” 

“I know, but she does so much already.” 

Ginny's fingers slid from his arm, moving upwards, not stopping until they found his cheek, turning his head and forcing him to look at her. “So do you.” 

He nodded, unwilling to agree verbally, but knowing she wouldn't allow him to argue. Still, he couldn't stop himself from saying. “I want to get this right for him.”

“Well, I've yet to discover the thing you can't do when you set your mind to it,” she said encouragingly, her hand leaving his cheek, and heading for the countertop. She shot him a wink that had the contrary results of soothing his agitation, and making his heart rate speed up.  “Besides, I have a good feeling about this one.” 

Her finger ran along the inside edge of the mixing bowl, collecting a sticky coating of  cake mixture on the tip. 

Impulsively, Harry grabbed her wrist, pulling her hand towards him, and licking the sweet mixture off her finger before she could. “You're supposed to wait for the cake to finish baking, Ginevra.” 

Her eyes darkened, lips parting around a sharp intake of breath, confirming a suspicion Harry had been harbouring since the last time he'd said it.  She liked it. 

“If you call me that again, I'll hex you,” her voice was low, dangerous. Seductive. 

“You can try,” Harry said, in a tone that matched hers. His fingers tightened around her wrist, pulling her to him. “But it's only fair to warn you you're dealing with a highly trained Auror.” 

Ginny's head tilted thoughtfully, eyes sweeping over him like she was sizing him up; his skin heated everywhere her gaze touched. “You're forgetting I know all of your weaknesses.” 

Harry hummed against her lips, unable to disagree. She did know all of his weaknesses, that much was undeniable, but he had definitely just confirmed one of hers. He could tell she knew it too. It was obvious from the way her eyes sparked as they met his, silently daring him to test her. 

“You wouldn't fight me though, would you, Ginevra?” 

He accentuated every syllable of her name, drawing it out, enthralled by the way her whole body stiffened in response. 

A beat of tension-filled silence followed, stretching for what felt like eternity, before Ginny surged forward. Their matching smiles broke free a moment before their lips met, and Harry sank into her kiss.

[perksofbeingpoet]

☆ HOW THE POETS STUDY ☆

NEIL: definitely the type of person who needs to talk about something to remember it, so he loves study group meetings! explaining stuff to others or having it explained to him is the number one way of engraving it into his brain. studies best in the evening, and needs snacks and lots of breaks to just talk with his friends.

TODD: becomes a little goblin when it's time to study. it has to be dark outside. it needs to be completely silent and he needs to be completely alone. since that's rarely possible in welton, he'll mostly just study at night when neil is already asleep, he just sits in his bed and looks through his books, always afraid of waking neil (unaware that he wakes neil almost every time but neil never shows it because he knows how terrible todd would feel)

PITTS: chaotic learner. needs loads of movement to balance his concentration, will take long walks around the grounds, whispering whatever he's trying to learn by heart to himself. flashcard king, makes 5000 of them and then slowly loses them all around the school. starts studying pretty early but still ends up having to stay up until 3am before the exam.

MEEKS: no one knows how or if he studies. sure, he says things like "sorry guys i can't come i need to study" but no one ever sees him do it? and yet he still always has top marks? his study method is a mystery.

but what he does do? help pittsie. when pitts is having another breakdown at 2am, ranting about how he can't do whatever he's supposed to do, how he'll always have bad marks, how he's trying, really, but nothing works, even charlie gets better grades than him- meeks will put their blanket around him and give him snacks and explain everything as good as he can.

CHARLIE: uhmmm basically let's cameron just explain everything to him? either that or he's just naturally good at the subject, he's not much of a studier, really- but he'll do loads of mock exams.

KNOX: rereads his text books, borrows pittsie's flash cards. it really helps him to talk about the subject, so he gets together with neil and they try to explain the subject to each other. studies in the early evening in his comfiest sweater and at his desk, likes to listen to music while doing so.

CAMERON: the school system's dream- writes long lists of all the stuff he needs to learn, then assigns each day a small topic. helps his friends out, studies the most out of all of them and is still super nervous about every exam. sleeps super early the night before.

hii, the results of my poll on what the next headcanons should be is here, so i'll try and post them in order of what percentage they got!

[writing-positivelyexisting]

Sleepless 3AM’s

The Bad Batch/Reader. Headcanons. | writing-positivelyexisting🫧

Hunter

How it happens is usually a bad dream or something on the Marauder creaked a little too loud and stirred your slumber. It’s not often but it happens.

Being in the same bunk with Hunter meant no easy escape. One or both of his arms holding you close to him. That didn’t stop you from trying, though.

Hunter feels you moving his arms off, trying to sneak out of bed as quietly as possible so you didn’t wake him up. Sometimes he’d stay behind for a few minutes to humor you, but he would wake with you regularly.

He would follow you to the cockpit, his blanket over his shoulder, and wait for you pick a spot. (Usually on the floor, but sometimes you would ask to sit across his lap in one of the chairs). Then, Hunter would place himself next to you and wrap the blanket around both of you.

He never questioned this tiny habit and you were grateful. You couldn’t offer up a reason. It was just something that happens and this is how you would deal with it. Hunter didn’t mind. He just wants to be sure you’re alright.

If it was a particular bad night, a nightmare, you would lean against him and talk. He always listened, taking your hand to touch and draw shapes in your palm or to gently massage each finger. Maybe a kiss to your temple every once in awhile.

“I don’t want to lose any of you… I wish this timeline was different. We could have already been married.”

“One day, cyar’ika. One day.”

Your talking would eventually turn into soft mumbles as your eyes became heavy with sleep again and Hunter makes sure not to move you back to his bunk until 15 minutes passed (just in case you woke up)

Tech

This man hardly gets sleep as it is but always advocates for the others to get valuable rest. So you usually curl up in his bunk, happy with just his scent to put you to sleep.

Whenever you do wake up, or just couldn’t sleep, you’d make your way to find the genius. He was always either working on his data pad or something on the Marauder.

Once Tech noticed your presence it’s always, “Ah, I did it again. I’m sorry.” Or, “My riduur, what’s keeping you up?”

If he knows he should sleep, he’ll walk you back to his bunk and hold you close to him. Most nights like this, listening to his breathing and heartbeat while his fingers brush through your hair knocks you right out.

When it takes a little more effort, Tech speaks softly on the latest upgrade he’s done to the ship knowing that you love his voice and do your best to stay awake and listen. (It tuckers you out more to fight the sleep like this and he knows it, using it to his advantage).

If something has kept you up, he offers you a place by his side to watch, listen, and/or help if you’re feeling up to it. When too much time has passed for you to still be out of bed, he forces himself and you to get a little shut eye.

“I’m not tired.”

“Your health is my upmost personal priority, riduur. Come; sleep.”

He takes your hand in his and leads you back to his bunk where both of you promptly fall asleep, just so unaware of the fatigue your bodies were holding.

Wrecker

To be fair, it’s hard to wake up when you’re with Wrecker. He’s like a heated weighted blanket. With arms and legs and a face. That gives you kisses and loves you. It’s hard not to be comfy with him, okay?

Yet, some nights are just too stubborn. Most nights it’s just nerves. You slide up to sit in his bunk with your knees tucked under your chin, your eyes watching this gentle hunk of a guy sleep.

Watching his rhythmic breathing kept your mind-fuzz to a minimum.

When Wrecker’s sleepy hand touched the empty space you reach out to grab it. Sometimes he doesn’t wake up right away, but as you touch and rub his hand to keep busy Wrecker wakes.

“Cyare? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I can’t sleep.”

He sits up with you, touching your face with a soft hand and asks you what you wanted: water, caf, snacks, Lula, Crosshair’s super soft blanket that was left behind but he would shoot someone point blank if they used it?

The blanket bit always earned him a quiet giggle. “Water and a holomovie. And Lula. Please.”

Wrecker takes care of everything, stopping you trying to help with a deep kiss to your lips, slowly pushing you down on his bunk.

And when you wake up with tears in your eyes trying to keep yourself quiet (for him and your captain), Wrecker is wide awake.

“Oh no, mesh’la, what happened?”

You tearful face triggers his own water works but he keeps it controlled, pulling you in front of him to rock you side to side in a lulling way.

“Everything’s going to be okay. I’ve got you… I’ve got you,” he whispers, kissing the top of your head.

Eventually your crying subsides and you do end up falling asleep in the intimate hug. Wrecker doesn’t give two shits that he can’t move to sleep next to you, keeping the rocking steady until he falls asleep, too.

Echo

Despite being an ex ARC trooper, you’re able to slip out of his bunk pretty easily.

When these kinds of nights happen, you usually make yourself a cup of caf and head to the cockpit to stare up into the sky.

Echo wakes up when he turns a little too much and thinks he’s accidentally hit you with his scomp link. When he finds you missing, his lips pull into a half frown half smile.

He knows exactly where you are and leaves to find you in the same spot, over and over again. You’re consistent and he likes it.

You offer him up a small sheepish smile when he stands next you every time. “Found me.”

“Found you.”

The two of you stand together, looking at the stars and finding the moment serendipitous. There’s no blaster fire. No alarms blaring. No shouts, screams, cries, or yells. Nothing is at risk. This moment is untouched, unscathed, uninterrupted.

It’s peace.

After a while, Echo takes your caf whether you’ve finished it or not and sets it on a safe spot on the control panel to take your hand for a tiny dance.

It’s silent in the Marauder so you two keep your footsteps feather light.

Echo spins you and waltzes in a small circle, smiling at you as the star and moon light showers you in its beauty. His mind pictures a better scene, one where you and him aren’t on Ord Mantel but somewhere elegant and far from war, dressed to impress with serene music playing for you.

When he pulls you back into him and slows the dance to a side step, Echo leans in to kiss you which you reciprocate every time. This kiss was a promise. That one day everything will be better.

Crosshair

Being sleepless in his bed was a circus trick. You couldn’t stop tossing and turning, willing sleep to take you but it just didn’t.

“Stop. Moving.”

You freeze and take a breath. “I’m sorry.” Slowly, you decide that you would sit up. You weren’t going to win this fight to rest.

You look at Crosshair who’s laying on his side, facing away from you, seemingly asleep. You reach to touch his back, gently so you didn’t irritate him, and traced the muscle definitions.

He never seemed to mind this soft act of affection. Just the constant movement when he was trying to sleep, which was understandable.

When your mind blanks out and your touch stilled, Crosshair turns around to look at you. The rustle gains your attention and you mutter another apology.

“Quit it.” He reached out to you and pulls you back down, having you lay on his chest.

“Quit what?”

“Apologizing.” His other hand touches your cheek, sliding over your ear into your hair. “You’re not the only one who can’t sleep.”

It makes you smile. His tone can be sour but he usually cares in reality. Your arms find themselves comfortable hugging him, giving him a quick loving squeeze.

When the nights are terrible and aren’t so easy to soothe, Crosshair always finds the reddest part of his heart again. His voice is just above a whisper, his body providing warmth, his arms acting as shields.

He’s got you.

“I’m so scared, Crosshair… that you’re going to disappear…”

“Cyare.” He pauses. “I love you too much to just die. I will live for you and your love.”

*riduur - wife/husband/spouse

Everyone has had these thoughts right??? These have been keeping me up most nights just to get an idea for what each of them would do (call it method writing haha). Also, Happy Valentine’s Day! ❤️

tag list: @dangraccoon (I wasn’t sure if you wanted to be included in headcanons, so I tagged you anyway. I hope that’s fine!)

[heartsfrommeg]

need you now.

hobie brown x reader

a/n: this is based off the song ‘need you now’ by lady antebellum! i was listening to it and an idea popped in my head😭 and it is totally not 2-3am as i’m writing this. also sorry if there’s any grammar mistakes! and also idk what getting drunk is like so idk if water helps😭.

song here !

genre: angst, fluff

w/c: 0.8k

warnings: mentions of alcohol, ex-boyfriend hobie, language

it was a little after 1am, you were sitting on your bedroom floor, looking at old pictures of you and your ex boyfriend, hobie brown. you were also drunk which was the main reason why you had these pictures scattered all over the floor. you’d never know why you decide to put yourself through this type of shit.

you missed the relationship you and hobie had. he was a little cocky, but he was funny, and caring. just overall a great boyfriend. until he decided to break up with you for whatever reason.

you look towards the door, still hoping it wasn’t real and he’d come walking through your bedroom door, taking his mask off after finishing a mission and immediately going to cuddle with you in your bed. you then looked back at the photos, wondering if you’ve crossed his mind like he’s crossing yours.

without thinking, you got up and grabbed your phone, dialing hobie’s number. you wanted to see him again. half of this was the alcohol kicking in, half was your own choices. you stared at the screen for a few moments, deciding if you should actually call. after saying fuck it, you pressed call. you let the phone ring as a few hiccups left the back of your throat from the alcohol you’ve been drinking.

“hello?” you suddenly heard on the other end, making your body tense up. you picked up the phone and started speaking, “hey hobie.. look i know i said i wouldn’t call you again. but…” you paused for a minute, another hiccup leaving your mouth before continuing. “i was wondering if you could come over. i need you right now.”

your speech was slurred, hobie could tell. “it’s a quarter after one.. and have you been drinking?” was all he asked you. “just a little. um y’know what, it’s fine, i’ll… i’ll go.” you said before pressing the end button and tossing your phone somewhere and bringing your knees up to your chest, starting to cry.

little did you know, as soon as you hit the end button, hobie was already on his way over. he of all people knew you could not handle your alcohol intake. he found the out after bringing you to the pub one time. and he would be lying if he told himself he hasn’t been thinking about you. he couldn’t even bring himself to delete your number after you two broke up for fucks sake.

you were still sitting in your room, again looking at the pictures but with tear filled eyes this time. you then heard a knock on your window. you looked up and saw a familiar spiked red mask. you got up with a stumble and made your way to the window, letting the masked man in.

as soon as he was in, he took his mask off and stashed it in his pocket. he then proceeded to bring you to your bed. “hobie.. what are you doing here?” you asked, the memory of you calling him slowly leaving your brain. he laid you down and sat beside you. he then looked around your room, his eyes landing on the pictures then back at you with a saddened expression.

“you called me, love. how much alcohol did you drink?” he asked you, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “not much..” you slurred. “uh huh.. i’ll be right back. stay here okay?” he then left leaving you in your bed alone. he returned shortly after, with a glass of water and sat beside you again.

“cmon and drink this for me love. you won’t have that bad of a hangover tomorrow.” he said, handing you the glass of water which you took and began drinking. he then proceeded to kick his shoes off and get in the bed beside you.

you then set the glass down and leaned on hobie’s shoulder, not far from being asleep. hobie moved one of his hands to your shoulder and began rubbing it. there was a few moments of silence before you spoke up.

“hobie.. why’d you break up with me?” he could hear the sadness in your voice which made his heart break. he hated being the reason you felt like shit. he then pulled you closer, still rubbing your shoulder.

“i didn’t want you to get hurt, sweetheart. you mean too much to me and i wouldn’t forgive myself if something happened to you just because i’m spiderman. but you have every right to be upset with how i broke up with you. but you’ve been crossing my mind everyday.”

you looked up at him, tears in your eyes. he looked back down at you and wiped a tear that fell. “but you’re the most important thing to me, love.” he then pulled you closer until your lips touched, giving you room to pull away if wanted, but you didn’t.

after a few minutes, you both pulled apart, silently catching your breath. he then proceeded to lay down, bringing you with him and pulling you to his chest. “let’s get some sleep, ‘kay?” he said, wrapping an arm around you. “will you be here when i wake up?” you asked. “of course. now get some sleep.”

with that, you let sleep overtake you, cuddled into hobie’s chest.

[cyrusclouds]

dsaf headcanons!!,!

i know literally nobody asked and no one cares, but i'm going to be putting my dayshift at freddy's headcanons here for the soul. this'll definitely get edited fairly frequently sooo!! anywayz here we go :3 (angst warning for some of these??)

jack has frequent sleep paralysis!! the kicker to this is that he THINKS he has a sleep paralysis demon, but really, dave just breaks into his house through his bedroom window every night and stares at him while he's asleep. he refuses to break character whenever he wakes up because "maybe he won't see me" (he definitely sees you, dave)

while henry was alive, dave picked up the habit of shutting up and shutting down whenever henry got too annoyed. problem with that is that jack playfully presents as annoyed all the time to mess around, and dave takes it very seriously, so they get into a bad cycle of jack acting annoyed and dave shutting down for no reason *constantly* (dysfunctional doomed yaoi core!!!)

henry is a tea drinker, not a coffee drinker. he specifically drinks black tea without any add-ins (basically the same as drinking straight black coffee for my coffee drinkers out there) (also dave eats the fucking tea leaves when henry is done with the bags)

harry still gets war flashbacks fairly frequently and is set off decently easily. when this does happen, rebecca is literally always there to comfort him and stays with him until he's calm again (straight couple goals)

whenever henry was seeping into jack's mind (legacy jack core), dave could very distinctly tell. one of the worst instances of this would have been a time where jack slipped up and called dave 'william', which would have caused a very quick panic that confused the *shit* out of jack (homeboy does not know what he did)

!!!NOT MY HEADCANON!!!! belongs to orcatstra :]!!! but dave and jack totally got drunk as shit in vegas one time and got married. no if's and's or but's, it happened, canon, i was the fly on directdogman's wall when he made dsaf.

jack reminds dave a lot of henry (unfortunately), which has caused dave to be very easily set off by things that henry used to do or say to him if jack does or says something similar. jack has no idea why every single time it happens, but he always comforts him until he calms down anyways :)

henry has a habit of spinning things like pens and pencils in his fingers while he writes, but sometimes this expands to wrenches and actual tools while he's working on his creations. yes i think henry is strong as a bitch, how else is he carrying those literal hunks of metal

I THINK HENRY PROBABLY HAS OTHER LOST TAPES OUT THERE RAAHHHH they're just probably less lore important LMFAO

henry would be the type to hate basically every animal, but he would (begrudgingly) feed stray cats from time to time if nobody was around (god forbid he ever look weak in front of people)

henry had a god awful sleep schedule. he would stay up until around 2-3am every morning at the least working on his creations, sometimes taking it as far as full days if he was focused enough. it was very concerning to dave (who does not sleep), and he would loom outside of his office a lot listening in case he fell asleep. it wasn't terribly common, but sometimes he would, in which case dave would break in and move him to the little chair he had in there

henry was definitely the kind of guy to straight up call people an idiot or dumbass, and then go on a long ramble about exactly what they were wrong about and how wrong they were. expanding on this headcanon, i think henry would have been a major rambler about things he was passionate about, especially towards dave (since that's like the only person he was around in his later life)

henry was never the kind to take breaks. no matter what, he always kept working. but, he did allow himself one once because his physical health was severely deteriorating, and he spent most of the day reading anyways LMFAO, just in a more comfortable environment. he would have loved reading, dead convinced.

[giggly-squiggily]

shark week is here and i'm so tired but i'm finally getting around to this, woohoo!

me and my sister are gonna see the haikyuu movie next week and i'm SO excited so i got a haikyuu hc (tho it includes neither nekoma nor karasuno lol)

suna struggles extremely hard with falling asleep and aran is a light sleeper, so whenever they're away for a training camp or smth he always wakes up to suna shuffling around, being frustrated and on the verge of tears because it's 3am and he's so exhausted but he just. won't. fall. asleep. but ofc aran is there to take care of it (platonically, in a big brother way, bromantically if you will)

as always, i totally get if you don't want to write this and i wish you the best of days and happiest of lives, stay hydrated ♡

Oh jeez- shark week! I'm sorry friend; I know that feeling all too well! AND THE HAIKYUU MOVIE YAS!!! It's so GOOD you're gonna love it! kjarkjekjrekjjkj the Suna headcanons YES! I love this so much Rey AHHH! Big brother Aran is so good! I've gotcha covered!

Aran was awakened by a low groan, so soft no one else seemed to hear it but him. He dared a peek at the futon next to him, finding Suna laying there with an arm tossed over his eyes. His jaw was set- and he looked rather distressed.

When he dared a peek at his phone- dear god why was it so bright?- it was 3 am. Shoot.

“Are you good?” He asked in a low voice, giving up on pretending he was still asleep. Suna seemed to stiffen at his words.

“I…no. I’m not good. I can’t sleep- I’m so tired and I just-” It was too dark to see, but Aran was sure he heard tears. “Fuck, I just want to to reach into my head and shake my brain until it turns off!”

“You’d be dead if you did that.” Aran gently pointed out, going for humor. Suna’s tch in response told him not to try again. “What do you need right now?”

“What-I don’t know! I c-can’t…” Aran shuffled closer, practically in the other boy’s futon now. He reached up and took the arm pressing into his friend’s face, catching his watery gaze.

“I’m here.” He spoke again, reassuring and soft. “What do you need?”

Suna took a few quick breaths, lips flattened to hide their tremble. “Talk to me. I don’t care what just- talk. Say anything.”

“Hm.” Okay- Aran could do that. “I’m from Hyogo. We’re close to the sea.”

Suna nodded, listening. Aran continued. He spoke of his family life growing up, how his dad would take him and his brother out to sea to catch shrimp and mussels. He spoke of their fishing trips, and the time his brother got two fishing hooks caught in his hand.

“He tried to get the first out with another one.” He grinned, earning a weak smile from Suna. The brunette was starting to calm down- Aran could feel his slowing pulse through the grip on his wrist. “It was worth it though. My grandmother- she loved seafood gumbo. She made it every Sunday without fail. If she was even late making it, everyone would be worried.”

“Sounds good. I….I’d like to try some.” Suna yawned, finally starting to drift away. Aran carried on with his childhood stories until Suna was properly out, lowering his wrist and scooting back towards his futon.

Only to realize in the middle blocker’s twists to get comfortable he was practically in Aran’s. Without meaning to, they were sharing the beds.

Giving up without much fight, Aran reached down and dragged the blanket up, whispering a few soft words as he started to fall asleep himself.

“Yeah..grandma would do this too…talk to me until I passed out..I miss her..” He let out a small sigh as he drifted, dreaming of sitting with her by the water and eating gumbo with ritz crackers.

“You’ve done good, Aran.” She told him with a smile.

“I hope so, Grandma.”

Send me a headcanon and I'll write a 300-500 word dabble for it!

[thebetawolfgirl]

His Chaotic Girl

Pairing: Timmy x Reader

Warnings: None. Just pure fluff.

A/N: Couldn’t sleep last night so wrote this at 1am.

His Chaotic Girl

Timmy woke up at 2am in the morning to find himself alone in bed, and sat up immediately scanning the room for his girlfriend.

‘Y/n?’ He whispered to the empty room heating no reply. He pushed the covers back and got out throwing a sweat top on him and heading towards the living room where he found his girlfriend of 2 years sitting on the large window sill looking out at the sleeping city of New York hugging her bare knees.

‘Baby?’ He walked over to her as she looked up at him.

‘I’m sorry, did I wake you?’ She stood up to stand in front of him as he smiled lovingly and shook his head. ‘No, I woke up because I didn’t feel you beside me. Not because you were making noise, you’re as quiet as a mouse.’

He tucked her hair behind her ear before wrapping his arms around her and rubbing her back.

‘Your thoughts consume you my love. You need to write them down or talk to get it all out.’

She nodded against his shoulder and sighed as he lifted her and wrapped her legs around his waist and sat down. ‘Talk. Rant. Ramble. Whatever helps.’

She sighed and began talking to him and once she started she couldn’t stop, even if she wanted too. Timmy listened patiently and rubbed his fingers over her knuckles when she clenched her fists to keep the tears at bay, and held her tight when she finally did cry. She eventually drifted off in his arms at 3am, and he carried her to bed.

He knew what he was getting into when they met. His friends, her friends even her own family tried to ‘warn him’ that she was broken and her mind went a million miles a minute. He didn’t care about either of their friends, but her family shouldn’t have been the people to warn him or scare him away from her, he found that fact particularly disturbing and a little bit disgusting to be fair.

Her intelligence and her ability to feel empathy made her extremely sensitive so she felt absolutely EVERYTHING.

Timmy absolutely loved that about her, it only proved to him that as much as she could run circles around even the most intellectual people he knew, she also had a huge heart.

And God her mind was incredible, the way it worked and how she saw the world. Timmy thought he would never find anyone in this world that was like him. An old soul, who saw the world differently than others. Someone who could SEE!

On their first date they were at the restaurant until closing time because they were so deep in their conversation. Then they just walked around the city until dusk. He walked her home and left feeling more alive than he had ever felt.

They woke up the next morning and just stayed in bed. They talked, they watched tv he read to her and she showed him some of her paintings she had been working on. They were incredible.

Other people thought she was weird and abnormal, he thought she was an absolute fucking genius. And he told her that one time and she just laughed shoving his shoulder.

Later they went for a walk around Central Park and he bought her a pretzel which she thanked him for and munched on.

She was weird to everyone but to him she was his chaotic girl.

@sufferingstarlight

@gatoenlaciudad

@kteezy997

@lixzey

@tchalamss

[1dk-whoshifter]

Unfairness & Bella's position in fanfiction .ᐟ

Ahh (ง •`⎽´•)ง well well well and the opponents of this week is~..

The way Twilight could be written and How Bella seems to catch crap no matter what happens to her in rewrites/Fanfiction.

Point in case ☝🏿🤓 she's either written out or becomes a side point human ✌🏿✊🏿✌🏿✊🏿 . Like give me a Bella who's life is still interlocked with the supernatural world despite never meeting him or despite them not being love interest (っ ͡¬ ₃ ͡¬)っ

Give me Jane x bella or Tanya x bella hell even Victoria x bella side stories would be acceptable.

Like, come on!!! stories where Bella stays human and becomes a teacher like she wanted, having a peaceful stress-free *cough* Renee*cough* life.

Anywho I think Twilight vampires have it rougher than any other vampires genre, like I know what you're thinking but hold on and listen.

1) They can't Eat, Sleep, Cry or wear makeup.

They sparkle so they can get a taste of normalcy but not enough to make them 'human'.

They can't wear makeup, dyed their hair, wear contacts for to long, or play any strength based games with humans.

Oh 🤓☝🏿 and did I forget to mention they can't do drugs nor drink alcohol of any kind.. So yeah..

The things that the human body normally does to gain serotonin, the twilight vampires are unable to do whatsoever.. so their ment to be miserable and sober until they get their lives together like.. 😬

2) blood singers are canonical for every vampire so it doesn't matter if you're a older vegan and you somehow have curved human blood since the moment you were born, you will eventually meet that one person who will f*** your streak up.

3) suicide always been possible in Vampire media for most vampires to commit suicide whether it's burning yourself alive, or decapitating oneself, ripping one's heart out or a stake or holy water, some way somehow vampires have been able to get death after ..death.

4) but Twilight vampires are unable to do anything like that because they have to be dismembered, burned and then the Ashes are basically scattered before they're truly at rest after immortality.

So in short being a Twilight vampire would f****** suck! 😭💔

but do I still want to do it?... yes🥹🥲

. I really have to stop sporadically writing at 3am.⚈̀ ᴗ ́⚈

-Dirty D∅x

Ps. That person with Bella in the drawing isn't Bella's love interest, but what I'm gonna call mini Døx and he usually is added into a drawing when it pertains to a gender neutral imaginary reader~ - BigDøx

[spaceagebachelormann]

im back hehehehehe could i get some headcanons of like. dating mischa. or ricky- either one- i <3 them sm

dating mischa and ricky

pairings: ricky potts x gn reader, mischa bachinski x gn reader

warnings: mentions of the rollercoaster disaster

a/n: i’ll give you both because ily liz <3

masterlist

Ricky Potts

okay so

UHHHH

he’s really sweet!!

100% randomly comes to your house and signs something like “wanna go stargazing”

you WILL say yes.

when you’re stargazing he doesn’t actually look at the other stars, because his star is beside him <3

you best believe his cats love you

they love you more than they love him

sometimes they just walk straight past him to get to you <3

i like to think he has a thing for noses, so when he’s close enough he’ll just lean in and kiss it so gently <33 or poke it

i feel like he gets tired really easily and stays up until like 3am

and because he loves you and he feels comfortable with you he leans his head on your shoulder and falls asleep!!

during the cyclone disaster, my man was holding your hand so hard and trying to keep you (and himself) from falling out of the cart

long story short it didn’t work and you fell together

back to the sweet stuff!!

you know all of the zolar lore and characters and give him stickers for his crutches

between classes he runs (runs??? he gets to you as quickly as he can with his crutches) and hugs you so tight

calls you the most random things ever

turkey-chicken-leg, monkey-love-drop (ofc <3)

im sorry but he would have called you kitten at one point. joke or not he 100% would have once. someone had to say it

i do think he’d call you love though

he loves you!! so much!!

penny aka his bestie has had to listen to him talk about you for hours

he’s very clingy!! constantly touching you in some way or is always near you

lightly hits you with his crutches when you say something outta pocket or questionable

your parent(s) LOVE him

he has that “anything for you love! <3” mentality and your parent(s) can tell this!! they know hed do anything for you and it’s why they love him!!

omg binge watching movies that take place in space with him <3

he gets so absorbed into the plots and points out every little thing

he’s so cute

will CRY (happily ofc) if you learn sign language for him

oh!! you’d also have a way to communicate from across the room if you can’t speak directly

like you’ll be visibly uncomfortable or tense and he’ll give you a concerned look or something to ask if he needs to come over there

i think he would be really protective, glaring at anyone who makes you uncomfortable and sometimes protectively putting a crutch or arm in front of you

incorrect quote!!:

Ricky: you want some leftovers?

Y/N: what are leftovers

Ricky: you’ve never had leftovers?

Y/N: no, im not a quitter

Mischa Bachinski

dear lord

the most overprotective soul ever

has body slammed ocean for looking at you weirdly…

will fight someone for you

just ask

also has that “anything for you love! <3” mentality but it’s more aggressive like “ANYTHING for you, love.”

oh he definitely uses you as an armrest

i like the idea of him and his s/o having a mean/nice dynamic

he’s mean to literally everyone except you

he’s also the type to put things on a shelf you can’t reach just so you have to ask him for help

sometimes he just picks you up in the middle of class and runs away while the teacher is screaming at you guys to come back

only listens to you

ocean: mischa no!! | mischa: mischa yes!! | y/n: mischa no | mischa: mischa no.

writes autotuned songs about you

okay but like imagine being his sweet sunshine s/o and one day someone pisses you off enough that you actually yell at them and he’s standing there with his jaw dropped and eyes widened

whispers over to noel “i love them.”

noel whispers back “i know.”

randomlt shows up at your house

if he can’t get in through the front door he scarily climbs through your window

SLEEPOVERS ARE A MUST!!

secretly the little spoon when you cuddle during sleepovers but don’t tell anyone

smiles into your neck, but pretends he doesn’t even though he knows you can feel it <3

it someone talks smack about you

well….

they mysteriously disappear that night

and when they come back they don’t even look in your direction again

he’s actually very sweet with you!!

holding your hand, cupping your face, whispering sweet little nothings in your ear <3

brings you alcohol on your birthday…

incorrect quote:

Mischa: *kicks the door down looking panicked*

Y/N: what did you do?

Mischa: nobody died

Y/N: WHAT KIND OF ANSWER IS THAT???

[lifmera]

OH MY GOD I TYPED UP A WHOLE THING AND ACCIDENTALLY LOST IT OH MY FUCKING GOOOOOOOOOOD I HATE IT HERE- anyways *ahem* attempt no. 2 of me asking you for a Hazbin Hotel match because I have never done this kinda thing before and I'm curious :)

GENDER AND SEXUALITY: I'm non-binary, they/he/she pronouns. I generally don't have a preference between the three tbh but I do appreciate ppl mixing it up! I'm sex-repulsed asexual and gray-biromantic. Again no real preference lmfao

APPEARANCE: White, dark blonde hair, green eyes, just below 5'3, pretty basic looking all things considered. I've got a pretty angular face I think. I'm afab and don't shave cuz it's too much work. I wear pretty much exclusively graphic tees(band shirts, dumb jokes, fandom stuff... that kinda thing) or button ups with funky patterns paired w/ the comfiest pants I can find, but occasionally I'll pull myself together enough to make a dencent(?) outfit, typically reminiscent of shit scene kids in the early 2000s would wear. I also like dying my hair but usually don't bcuz I procrastinate on it for too long.

PERSONALITY: If I had to describe it in one word? Unhinged. I am unhinged. 7/10 people will agree I am a very frightening person to be around. I say out of pocket shit(ranging from vile sex jokes to just straight up threats of violence) pretty regularly. I also like to sneak up on ppl and make very loud noises just to see their reactions... *ahem* anyways, despite all that, most of my friends would also describe me as caring and loyal! I have low empathy, so the only way I ever understand any of my friends emotions is by using my own experiences to compare and contrast until I have a decent idea of what's going on in their head, but I AM very good at psychoanalyzing people and providing objective, unbiased thoughts & advice on their situations. I would also literally go to war for my friends. Like, if you hurt one of them say your goddamn PRAYERS because I am coming to your location with a knife and murderous intent. I'm kinda awkward & shy at first, but at my core I AM an extrovert. I just don't know how to talk to ppl bcuz I am ✨neurodivergent✨(autism & ADHD) and have a hard time approaching ppl bcuz I don't know if they'll like me or not. Typically I make friends by making very loud jokes and waiting for somebody to approach me because they like my sense of humor. Which speaking of, I am very funny! Most people I interact with regularly would agree I am a very funny person!!! I'm also really good at media analysis and making arguments. I don't do well in debates because I choke under the pressure(gotta work on that tbh), but I'm good at writing argumentative essays. Plus, I'm pretty good at just bold face lying to people so overall I can be pretty damn convincing. I like adrenaline rushes and try to actively seek out new experiences as long as I'm confident they won't cause me any significant damage(socially or physically) in the long run. Which is unfortunately not many because I am INCREDIBLY paranoid. Like to the point of accidentally staying up til 3am cuz I'm convinced someone's gonna break into my house and kill me... I also have depression, severe dissociation issues, and existential dread which is. Fun. That's fun. I also have a tendancy to go down random rabbit holes and obsess over inconsequential details in shows I like to the point of making whole ass conspiracy theories :)

LIKES: Cartoons, drawing, writing, acting, singing, reading fanfic, watching YouTube, long drives, listening to music, jumpscaring ppl, being funny, ziplining, problem solving, video essays, ghost hunting shows, supernatural stuff in general, psychology, media analysis, frogs, sharks, ferrets, cats, violence, chocolate, Drawfee(YT channel), glitter, and just. So many fandoms. Just so many.

DISLIKES: Slimey shit, being touched(most of the time, there are occasional exceptions), being touch starved DESPITE not liking being touched, ppl insulting my interests(only I get to do that), media illiteracy, projects I'm not invested in, ppl putting preasure on me, mosquitoes, existential dread, dissociating, being tired all the time, being wrong, taking risks, feeling vulnerable, and stories with a lot of potential that just. Don't do anything with said potential.

PREFERENCES?: Uh. Someone significantly taller than me(shouldn't be hard Hazbin characters are fucking huge) that'll listen to my insane rants and is able to match my energy.

Akdncksmfnsmdsn I rlly hope I did this right again it's my first time doing anything like this-

HEYYYYYY!!! FINALLY GOT TO YOU 😜

Honestly I was debating on like a few different characters BUT!

I’ve decided to pair you with… LUTE!

Honestly I think she’d also be sex repulsed. She’s definitely more of a romantic lover! Though she doesn’t show it.

I think she talked to you at first because your style choices reminded her of Adam- and obviously, she misses him like crazy

If you did dye your hair often with her, she’d probably want to help you! I think she’d apply the color so it doesn’t get messy :)

She LOVES your personality. She thinks you are similar to her in many ways!

She also would need to experience it herself. She’s pretty stoic and doesn’t show her emotions. She’d probably think it’d make herself look weak.

I think you both would definitely fight back to back 24/7! You both would fight to the DEATH for each other.

She loves how caring you are for other people- it gives her a different sense of pace. Someone new!

I think Lute would see a TINY BIT through your lies. Lute is very observant with EVERYTHING.

She’d love if you made jokes. She need’s something less boring in her life than just standing there.

Adrenaline rushes? Totally join the exorcists- and you can be her right hand!!

She’d try to help you through paranoia, but you shouldnt worry much. She’s STRONG asf!

She’d LOVE TO HEAR CONSPIRACIES!! she would think they are SO COOL.

Although she isn’t much taller- I think she’d around 5’8 personally. She just looks small bc shes always next to Adam who’s HUGE!

She may not be able to match your energy, only because she’ll need to come out of her shell more- she’s always listening. She has ears EVERYWHERE.

~~~~

HOPE THIS WAS OKAY ❣️

[blitz0hno]

Drabble about the whole mikotosys-night-terror chronicles cuz I don't get to write much.

Post trial 2: Mikoto, still deep in denial (although deep denial doesn't mean ur as unaware as you let on/feel all the time), cries himself to sleep again. He hates the long-time habit, but thinking about his life up to this point, especially now... It makes sense, and unfortunately a lot more starts to make sense too.

It was happening again.

Mikoto was laying on the bed in his cell, staring at the ceiling. It was the only time he knew which way was up these days.

And today had been long, and stressful.

Why must he be this kind of person?

Chained up and interrogated.... Es trying to explain why the words "I saved you" echo in his mind.... a fuzzy ringing in his ears overtaking seemingly every conversation he had with the warden; Mikoto did his best to be attentive but was purely pretending. He was sure he dreamed the crime he was accused of, sure of it. It wasn't real, he couldn't do that! He had a future to look toward, and even if some people in his life were holding him back, his urge for quick relief had been but a horror-movie fantasy. A place for his brain to put his anger so he couldn't find it.

He had always wondered where his emotions went when he made them disappear. It didn't look good that nearly every moment now felt like a dream, either.

Answering questions with pen and paper had been particularly difficult. He didn't remember much of that either. He remembered the first couple questions. He remembered waves of frustration flooding his train of thought. He remembered feeling sick when he realized it was over and he thought he had only answered two or three out of the twenty questions.

Mikoto had started off this strange "Milgram" experience intrigued, but the more he thought about the events that led up to this "reality show," the more scared he got. He had always been a forgetful guy, but felt confident enough in his ability to keep track of important things. School, work, home duties, everything was always nearly lined up in his thoughts. Sometimes he had strong feelings about a task, but he was easily able to power through. He was oddly proud of that ability, from his adolescence up to his office job.

Sure, he had been picked on for living outside the city and never going anywhere. But he was reasonably popular with girls and very on top of his grades, which made other students like him well enough he supposed. No reason to feel lonely with how busy he was anyway. Taking care of home with his mom and sister, making sure he remembered to eat and study before shifts, and cramming for tests had all paid off, hadn't it?

He had a career he was passionate about, an end goal, and a stable job at a famous company. Although this job was... Not as glamorous as he had hoped. Nonetheless, he had worked so hard for it. He wouldn't just throw it away.

Not even when his meal times got shorter and shorter.

Not even when his boss made him redo weeks of work on a whim.

Not even when 60 hour weeks turned to 80 hours.

Not even when he broke down and cried after coming home to an onslaught of texts informing him of a deadline being shortened yet again.

He needed to sleep. Without sleep, he became irritated easily, and hiding it with a polite smile always left him with a permanent lump in his throat, as if he could burst into tears at any moment but wouldn't let it happen. When it all got too loud, Mikoto knew how to put it away for later.

Now was later, and he was crying.

He wished people listened to him. If they got to be cruel with no consequences, chain him to one thing or another, tell him to come and sit and stay until 3AM doing paperwork, he should get a say too. A say in how he was spoken to, in his rest, in his mind, anything.

But he second-guessed himself every time, coming up with nothing and doubling down on his polite diligent worker persona.

His chest heaved as he sobbed. How pitiful and pathetic, if they saw him like this. And to think everyone was scared of him now, not only because he apparently really killed people, but now more things he didn't remember were coming up. Torn up clothing he had tried so hard to laugh about reporting to Es; but all the morning he couldn't stop himself from crying, even through his mask. He had heard from others in the past that he talked in his sleep, but the noises? The shredding and screaming and destroying?

That was all new.

And embarrassing.

And mortifying.

Mikoto had no memory of any of it. He thought and thought, but only recalled feeling overwhelmed, perceiving the stares and the body language around him as tense, and the rush of anxiety which was renewing itself again. Out of habit, he searched for the smile he always tried to force through the tears, even now that he was alone.

Another sob.

Alone.

And everyone knew it. His boss, his mom, his baby sister, his peers EVERYONE watched him go it alone, pushing and pushing and succeeding at any cost to himself. But that was the goal, too, to be left alone. Not screamed at, following the rules in place, breaking them if it meant a more pleasing outcome for his current audience. His breath picked up as he remembered every comment, every stare every sneer every nitpick EVERYTHING others did to belittle his hardest work. His sweat, blood, and tears turned into a cycle that kept piling more on his back.

He held his hands against his ears as his sobs turned to a choked wail. Again tonight, he felt like he couldn't stop himself. "I HATE THIS! I'm not smart enough to even remember what I do, not strong enough to even control myself! FUCK!"

Again his uniform shirt felt far too tight. The restraints he had become more used to were suddenly like snakes whose every movement he could feel through the fabric, writhing on his skin. Mikoto screwed his eyes shut and begged to disappear, pulling at the jumpsuit.

Then John screamed.

He tore, he ripped, he fell off the bed and threw himself against the wall as if it would give him more force against the restraints. He couldn't stop. He knew it was his fault, and he knew why it was his fault, but they were hurting Mikoto all the same.

John forcefully wiped the tears from his face. His breathing was ragged as he felt himself grabbing at his hair. This was bad.

He couldn't calm down. Mikoto was beyond upset, he was terrified. John's own anger and Mikoto's fear had them in a frenzy, their hands pulling at anything they could grasp. What could he do? He had to help Mikoto. After all, it was John's fault, John's anger, John's actions that caused him this agony. Mikoto wouldn't hurt someone like that. He couldn't!

"I COULD. I DIDN'T WANT TO!" A shriek escaped his mouth. John didn't feel like that words were his. He took a deep breath, one hand still keeping his hair in a death grip.

The other was over his mouth. John had heard enough of what the other prisoners were able to hear. He was sure that they would be punished if they were any louder; or maybe Mikoto was sure.

He just didn't know anymore.

"They were killing you," John whispered, voice strained. "Even if you didn't do i-"

The words caught in his throat, and John's breath hitched as he felt the world start to blur around him.

"I do remember that I wanted to," came a choked whisper from Mikoto. "I wanted nothing more. Those people - those men... My life was hell. I was too slow with turnarounds no matter how long I submitted before the deadline. They called me day and night like a dog to their side. And th- the way they spoke to me and my coworkers - realizing their contempt toward the working men alone but god the WOMEN-" He sobbed loudly, burying their head in his hands. "The- these are the people our baby sister gets to meet next. The ones our mom married, the ones who lie and cheat and demand and force- they should be GONE they SHOULD. BUT- but I never thought-" he trailed off, curled into a tense ball. He could hardly feel John anymore -

Oh god.

He could feel John.

Like another person in the room, he felt another presence almost by his side. Another sob turned into a laugh at the absurdity of it all. The warden had no dog - Mikoto did.

And it was himself.

And that's why there was another "him," blaming his newfound self for Mikoto's plans and actions.

He felt terrible, in a hundred different ways. "John, it wasn't your fa-" Mikoto stopped mid-sentence, torn between guilt for his other self and the terror of realization hitting. He pressed himself against the cold wall and breathed slowly as he could, suddenly overcome with a clammy, nauseous feeling.

It wasn't a dream.

Mikoto had been sick in his cell once before, during a particularly bad panic episode. He had cleaned it up well and told no one, but somehow he was still met with looks of concern and pity and fear ten times over the following morning. Damn thin walls. The already isolated prisoner was not about to let that happen again. He slumped against the wall, closed his eyes, and grit his teeth as the room spun, wanting only to sleep. If only he could shut down, wake up in his apartment and cry about his shitty day at his shitty job surrounded by shitty people that his shitty singular self did not kill.

The weight of that possibility leaving forever made him feel like he would never eat again.

John felt the pressure mounting in their head and body, powerless to help. Just behind front, able to listen to the perspective he'd been wishing to hear for so long, and unable to do a damn thing. After all the begging to be acknowledged, he still hadn't saved Mikoto. Not by a long shot.

They were both stricken with panic by now, John beginning to pace around the cell and breathing deeply to the point of pain. Anything to keep from spiraling, from causing a mess, from snapping again, from hurting someone or even needing them.

And then they froze, a third voice that felt equally unreal catching their attention. Difference was, she and another were outside themselves , and outside the door to their room.

"He's at it again..." John heard Kotoko sigh faintly, breathing shallow as he stood at a standstill. He was so at a loss that he forgot to be angry at her treatment of Mikoto. Mikoto wasn't a killer. John was. Leave Mikoto out of it, let him live without this pain. It's why John was here to begin with! Did he fail? Did he drive any other help away?

"Ugh. I'll wait here, as you requested. Give him this." John heard a small acknowledgement from Es as they took the mystery item. He flinched, bracing himself.

Were they chaining him up again? Drugging him? What did he get Mikoto into now??

Whether he knew it or not, Mikoto was feeling the same guilt towards John, ashamed for not having noticed and feeling cowardly for running from him.

"John..." Es brought the protector to attention, gently holding out a water bottle. He hadn't even registered that they opened the door. He stared for a second, feeling shamefully and ridiculously dog-like, but took the offering. "How did you know..."

"Because Mikoto puts on airs," Es replied plainly. "He would have forced a posture that was more relaxed, perhaps greeting me as 'Guard-kun.'" Their voice went up a tad as they imitated Mikoto's tone, first amusing and then startling John. Was the switch that obvious? Had he ruined any chance of Mikoto being normal again?

"So you can... You can tell. We really are that different?"

"Afraid so," Es replied. "John, do you two... Do you know how DID happens?" They stood across from him, gauging his reaction. John seemed to be struggling to stay grounded as he explained.

"We never thought we had any sort of amnesia... We once read that it happens when... Oh," John sighed. "I have no idea what happened. But I know... I know..."

"When a child is hurt badly over a period of time, in their very early stages-"

"Yeah I know how it goes." He snapped like John, but John felt the words come from elsewhere. The voice also sound absolutely defeated, the truth having come to reveal itself.

"Mikoto...?"

"..."

Mikoto felt.

He was aware, he knew what he was saying, but his voice was bitter and monotone. He didn't know what to feel. He just felt.

"I don't fuckin know anymore," he sighed. Es was not entirely convinced it was only him - his voice was cold, and while quieter than John's, Es wasn't even sure they had heard Mikoto curse before. Of course, Mikoto was subject to change as any other prisoner, and his demeanor almost reminded them of Fuuta's current state.

Mikoto took a deep breath, standing a little straighter. "I... Suspected it, when I heard about it from some class, and then forgot about it. But yeah, when a mother and a father hate each other, and possibly you, very very much... I know how it happens." His eyes darkened. "Life got better, I think, when Dad left. Mom wouldn't talk about him, and she'd get mad if I even said something that she thought he would... But I could tell she missed him. My baby sis seems okay for her age, on track development and all, but despite all the responsibility I could handle I could never quite get it right."

Es nodded thoughtfully. "So you were ridiculed and blamed for things you weren't even aware was upsetting to your parents? Did they take things out on you, because you were older?"

"I... I guess. I never thought it was that bad," Mikoto sighed. "But living on my own, I started to feel more and more disconnected. More angry, more paranoid... And I started having nightmares. I forgot about those for awhile too. When it started affecting my work, I even tried to forget I was stressed at all."

"Or rather, your mind helped you forget," Es mused.

"It should have stayed forgotten," the prisoner growled. "I can't believe I ruined everything, and I didn't even know it. John wanted to protect someone who forced him to exist because I COULDN'T protect me!" He pulled at the strap over his chest, struggling to keep composure. There was no trace of his fake smile.

"You didn't force anything," Es corrected him softly. "The brain is an organ that adapts to survive. Even had you known, it's not something that can be harnessed and commanded. It's adaptation." It was a simple matter-of-fact, complex as it was. Es hoped they had their facts straight now, anyway.

"So how do we go back to normal?!" Mikoto cried. His hands were shaking now and was sobbing again; he quickly realized how dizzy he was becoming. "I-I need to sit." He lowered himself back to the floor and slumped against the wall, arms childishly wrapped around his knees. He felt nothing but shame presenting himself this way. He was 23, he was a graphic design agent, a working man! He couldn't break down like this! He couldn't have it this bad! Even if he didn't even feel like himself at the moment, even if reality felt completely made up... "There's got- there's got to be a way to fix this."

To his surprise, Es didn't look at him with judgement or pity. The only thing that stood out was curiosity, and they gently sat beside him as they gathered their words. "It's not a matter of fixing, Kayano-kun. You all need... Healing," Es spoke carefully. They figured the nickname would do for now.

"Can't heal from a murder charge," the prisoner scoffed. Mikoto felt reality spin as John spat out his remark. John ran a hand through his hair, smoothing some parts and causing others to stick out awkwardly. "It's still my fault. Those urges, those feelings... They're mine to carry, to protect him from."

"John... maybe you can protect each other. Share the burden. It was one body and, according to Milgram, one prisoner. Maybe if you can forgive yourselves... Milgram will show me a better outcome for you both." That was the best Es could think of to help right now. To think it was upon them to say whether this man was forgivable; he had seen so much of the real world that they themselves had yet to remember, and they couldn't even imagine the stress of his perfectionist lifestyle on top of it all. They wanted to cry from how unfair it all was, but prisoner 009 was the priority right now.

As the warden... They had to do what they thought was best. They almost felt guilty for having Kotoko on standby, even though it was she who insisted. But that didn't mean Mikoto, or even John, was dangerous.

"I know I didn't do the right thing," Mikoto sighed, sitting up as he regained composure. "And it still doesn't feel real. I can almost feel the memory slipping again. It hurts, Guard-kun!" He gripped the sides of his head. Es instinctively reached gently for his hands to discourage him from pulling his hair out, and Mikoto flinched. He hit the barrier between them with his hands as he automatically covered himself.

"Shhh... Mikoto..."

"I'm sorry!"

"You didn't hurt me. I startled you," Es said. "Mikoto, you don't need to remember all the time. That's what your alter John, and any others there may be... Are for," they looked away, thinking bitterly about what may lie in their own memories. "It can hurt to remember, Mikoto. Sometimes it's even dangerous."

"I was dangerous when I didn't remember, too," Mikoto sniffed. "John... He wanted to protect us - protect me - so badly that we hurt a lot of things. Even you."

"Well as for me, Mikoto, my physical health is no worse for wear," Es replied. They were only partly lying - they were exhausted constantly, but John's outburst was long down the list of incidents by now. "I forgive you. Do you... Forgive you? Forgive John?"

"John... I barely know John..." Mikoto sighed, feeling defeated as the words he tried to form seemed to fade from his mind. "But I... I forgive his mistakes. I hope he can forgive me too." Mikoto then felt lightheaded again, but although his throat felt stuck and his chest was tight, his left hand gave a small thumbs up.

Es couldn't help but chuckle a bit. "Well, there you go."

Mikoto heaved a sigh, suddenly feeling more exhausted than ever. "Thank you..." He whispered. He began to cry again, but smiled a smile that seemed to come more from genuine gratitude than fear. "Thank you, Guard-kun. I know... John will be happier now. I'm... I'm really scared. But we don't have to be lonely."

Es stood up slowly, offering a hand to help him to the bed. 009 sat still on the floor for a moment, a small frown forming on his face as he took their hand. "It's... It's John." He whispered, although they were partly holding him upright, Milgram ignoring his presence and giving him away. It felt strange, announcing himself like that, but comfortable too. "I know we can't undo what we did... Thank you for helping Mikoto."

"You deserve help, too, John. Mikoto wants to be there for you, too," the small warden looked up at him with almost a sense of urgency, praying John wouldn't try to take it all on himself anymore.

"Well he can start..." John mused, "by not giving away my cigarettes anymore. How's that?"

"Oh yeah, he did tell me to stop giving those to him even if he asks. I think..." They almost didn't suppress a laugh as they walked the system to their cot; although the situation wasn't funny itself, it was an interesting process. "I think finding those over and over is when he knew he forgot more than he knew."

"Damn right..." John sat down on the bed, the body falling over nearly instantly.

"Goodnight, John-kun, Mikoto-kun," Es said softly, heading towards the cell door.

"Goodnight, and thank you again," John's low voice replied.

As they went out the door, they heard another.

"Oh! Goodnight, Guard-kun!" A soft whisper said from across the room. "...And thank you."

That night was the most restful sleep Mikoto's body had gotten in years. He almost felt like he could finally get used to this. He would never get used to "being a killer," though. He didn't know much about the social perception of DID, so he sure hoped that wasn't a general stereotype.

End.

[clone-anon]

Hey, clone-anon <3 I absolutely adore you're writing. I hope you're doing well! Could I request Tech helping Reader who has severe insomnia due to depression/ADHD? Like Reader not going to bed until 4 am and then not getting out of bed until late in the day? They just can't seem to get themselves to go to sleep cause their mind is just...so, so overwhelming. Eventually, Tech notices this pattern and decided to try to help? Can be romantic or platonic <3

(Ignore me asking for this at 3am shhhhh)

I went with platonic Tech because I couldn't figure out another way to make an idea work. I hope this helps!

You were up. Again. Staring at the bunk above yours and mind wandering. Where were these thoughts going? Why couldn't your brain calm down? You took some deep breaths and closed your eyes. It was well past midnight and Tech was finally coming back to his bunk to sleep. At least you weren't the only person up. You looked over and his eyes met yours. You gave him a weak smile and even in the darkness you could see some worry on his face as he returned the smile and got into his own bed. You heard his soft snores several minutes later. While he might be up late, at least he could fall asleep almost immediately. You had to admit to being jealous of that.

This went on for many weeks. You struggled to fall asleep. You were grateful the boys let you sleep as long as you needed, but felt bad that your schedule was all over the place. They never made you feel bad, but they were all concerned.

One day Tech approached you as you were getting ready for bed.

"How can I help," he asked, unprompted.

You stopped brushing your teeth and turned to him. "Wif wha," you asked, toothbrush still in your mouth.

"You are not sleeping well. You are up later than I am. Something is clearly the matter."

You sighed and finished brushing. Tech stood there patiently. You walked toward the cockpit and sat down with him. You tried explaining what was going on. How hard it was to fall asleep and how your body felt tired all the time. You felt trapped in this cycle and simply making yourself get up earlier didn't ever seem to help you fall asleep sooner the next night, so you didn't know what to do.

"I am happy to help," he replied, "if that is something you want."

"I'm willing to try almost anything," you replied.

"While I am not always one for physical closeness all the time, I wonder if sharing a bed with one of us would help. Or perhaps a weighted blanket."

You started with the blanket. You were able to fall asleep a little sooner, but not much sooner. After a week of that, you decided you wanted to try sharing a bed with someone. When you approached Tech, he said he would be happy to.

He stayed up to his usual time, but worked while laying in bed with you. As it got later, he adjusted his position and you snuggled up against him. When he put his datapad down to sleep, it was just past midnight, but you were already tired. You felt his steady breathing and his warmth. He put an arm around you and pulled you closer. Your mind calmed and your body fell into sync with his. Before you knew it, you were both asleep.

The next morning, you woke up with him, feeling better. This continued and as time went on, your body started to calm next to his each night. Tech started putting his datapad away earlier, his body quieting next to yours and both of you falling asleep together. Whenever things got to be too much, he noticed and offered you space to talk about it or methods during the day to release your emotional energy in whatever way you needed. He liked going on walks with you and he liked getting into bed with you and listening to you as you softly told him what was on your mind. Being together helped soothe you both to sleep.

[anne-chloe]

Underground | XIII |

The Goblin King/Jareth x Reader

Summary : The Goblin King is constantly there. He offers a gift, a crystal ball, so you can see clearly what your beloved fiancé is up to. And it seems as though Harry is back to his normal ways.

The spotlight shone brightly in your eyes as you advanced towards centre stage with your castmates. The theatre roared in excitement as an instrumental version of the opening song was playing; the cast directed their own applause to the directors, the band, the costume and set designers, and finally to the audience themselves.

Adrenaline filled your body as the applause rang true in your ears. You couldn't help but smile gleefully at the appraisal, bathing in its glow alongside your friends. The way everyone had worked extremely hard for the past 6 months was unreal—every ounce of energy went into this very performance.

You were saddened that this would be the final one, the closing night of the performance. While you mourned the ending, you were joyous that it had happened to begin with.

You exited the stage after the curtains finally fell, and immediately your shoulders dropped. Arms embraced you from all angles, pulling you into one of those joyous group hugs that you loved to savour every second of. You laughed happily in the arms of your friends, listening and participating in words and whispers of encouragement and exclamation of the performance that had taken place.

And out of the corner of your eye, you saw a familiar face.

Jareth.

He lingered in the wings, slightly obscured and hidden by shadows. He looked the exact same as you had last seen him; his mismatched eyes glued to your form. You tensed up at the intensity of his stare, feeling shivers roll down your spine. And in his hand was a crystal ball, which he played nonchalantly with, twirling it in his gloved fingers.

You blinked.

He was gone.

The embrace broke and you followed your castmates to the changing rooms, where makeup and hair care accessories were scattered across every surface. Random articles of clothing strung haphazardly over chairs and the floor, shoes messily piles and sticking out.

"I'm just going to be sobbing for the next year," Penelope joked as she slumped into her chair, focusing her attention onto the mirror that displayed a red lipstick mark of her name in the bottom corner. You slid into the chair next to her and started removing your character's accessories; earrings, necklaces, bracelets...

"Me too," you said in agreement. You blinked at your own reflection, half expecting it to start moving by itself. You scrutinised is closely, watching for any indication that it wasn't truly yours. But it followed your every movement closely, and you tried not to roll your eyes at your own paranoia. "I'll be waking up at 3am singing-crying."

Penelope let out jovial laugh.

You stripped out of your costume and lovingly hung it onto the rack, feeling the material one final time between your fingers before finally letting it go. You always became too attached to your character when playing them; it was part of the job. You felt like a piece of the character always stayed with you. Well, you were going to take a piece of the character's jewellery home with you and maybe a prop from the set, just as a cute reminder of the character you got to be. It would be stored away safely in the box that contained other trinkets from previous performances that you'd done, since you were a child up until now.

"Oooh," Penelope called teasingly from behind as you stepped away from the rack. She held up a small white gift bag, a pink ribbon attached at the top with a small hand written note. She dangled it in front of you to take; you gently pinched it from her fingers and skimmed your eyes over the message. "[Name] has an admirer!"

' Your beauty knows no bounds. Your talent is to be admired. Call for me and I will be there. '

It was a note written in cursive. Harry didn't have the neatest hand writing ever, so you knew that this couldn't have come from him. Inside the gift bag was a beautiful rose and a crystal ball.

It was from Jareth.

"So, who's it from?" Penelope asked tauntingly, sliding into your personal space and taking a peek at the written note. You shrugged her off and held the gifts close to your chest, whether to hide them or protect them you weren't entirely sure.

"It doesn't say," you said quickly, and a familiar heat started to burn at your cheeks. But you didn't need Jareth to write that it was from him, and he knew that.

Penelope scoffed and stepped back, flipping her brown hair over her shoulder and jutting out her hip. "Well, that's a bit silly," she mumbled, "how are you supposed to call them if a name or number wasn't given?"

Because Jareth wanted you to wish yourself away to him. Again. You knew that was the only way to find him, and he knew that too. His magic was stronger in the Underground, inside his own realm; it was possibly very scarce in the human world.

"Magic, I suppose," you replied, hoping that your tone came across in a joking manner. It sounded dry and sarcastic, and luckily Penelope found a hint of humour enough to laugh along with you.

You finished changing into something else after the conversation was dropped. Your castmates were going out to celebrate the closing performance, but Harry was expecting you at home. He didn't come to the closing show because he was busy with work (and because you didn't want him making love-eyes at Casey again, if she happened to be there). You didn't mind his lack of presence; you were strangely more comfortable without him watching you constantly. You felt at ease knowing that he couldn't tarnish your favourite space with his betrayals.

"Just come out for a little!" Penelope begged, her arm locked with yours and tugging you in the direction of the nearest pub. She wiggled her brows and it made you chuckle, but you continued to decline and unwrap yourself from the group.

"I'd love to, but I promised Harry I'd come straight home," you explained, now stepping back.

Penelope rolled her eyes. "I don't know if you guys had an argument or something, but in the last two months something has changed! Is he being kind to you?"

Yes. No.

You couldn't answer that.

Harry wasn't horrible to you. He was actually very doting on your personal needs. He became suddenly too attentive, and it was like he knew your emotions before you ever did. But in a way, his behaviour was somewhat hostile—not violent and abusive, but to the point where you felt like tip toeing around him. You couldn't deny that it was nice not having to deal with particular things at home, but you felt smothered and overwhelmed at times, as though Harry was constantly breathing down your neck and waiting for you to make a mistake.

You convinced yourself that he was scared to lose you again. You had been so close to giving yourself away to the Goblin King, and that must have frightened him. To have lost you so easily. It's what you wanted him to feel; you wanted him to mourn losing you, as a punishment so he'd never dare to cheat again. But that changed when Harry had confronted Jareth and saved you both. You'd given him a second chance.

"Nothing happened," you said with the best of smiles you could muster. "I'll text you all later!"

And so the final goodbyes were said, and you parted ways. You found a taxi to take you home, and you arrived back at your shared apartment within 15 minutes. Traffic wasn't too bad at that late hour, but you'd asked the driver to take his time and to prolong the journey by driving down back roads instead.

You paid and left and entered the shared space, inhaling deeply into the quietness of your apartment. You shrugged off your jacket and hung it up alongside your bag, then entered the lounge where Harry was sitting and browsing the TV. His laptop was perched on the coffee table, displaying a document with thousands of words written. You joined his side and snuggled up, placing a quick kiss on his cheek as a greeting.

"Good show?" Harry asked without looking at you. He seemed focused on the TV.

"Very," you answered curtly, sitting back and resting into the cushions. You felt the ache ease from the heels of your feet, and you stifled a satisfied moan at finally being able to relax. "Pen and the others were heading out to celebrate."

Harry grunted, but he didn't look at you.

You placed your hands into your lap. Your gaze roamed the laptop in front of you, sneaking words from his paper. None of the content made much sense, and you were sure if you'd read it from the beginning then you still wouldn't understand. You'd tried to once, but his company was very intricate and complicated.

"Good day at work?" You asked after a brief pause. You watched in your peripheral as Harry's shoulders tensed. But still, he didn't look at you.

"Yes."

Odd. Normally he had more to say. Whether it was about a meeting he was dissatisfied with, or a moan about a colleague messing up—he always had more to say.

You furrowed your brows at his behaviour. "Did Marcus upset you again?"

Harry shook his head, and he continued to scroll through the channels on the TV. Then, he flicked on the Netflix app, where he continued to browse the selection there. But he wasn't looking for anything in particular; he was just keeping himself distracted. And that made you suspicious.

"No. Marcus was off sick."

"Oh," you breathed, feeling your chest tighten as the tension in the room started to grow. You didn't dare to pry any further. There was a question you wanted to ask, but you knew that it would spark an argument if you weren't careful. Harry was clearly not in the mood to be reasonable with his responses, and you were particularly drained from todays events.

"I'm going for a shower," you told him when he didn't show any indication that he wanted to continue speaking. Harry waved you off and you immediately left.

Once inside the safety of the bathroom, you stripped your clothes and turned on the shower. You splashed your face with water from the sink and began wiping away the makeup that made you appear preciously doll-like. Then, you stepped into the shower and started to wash your troubles away.

Your mind continued to focus on Harry and his strange behaviour. You couldn't shake the feeling that something was very wrong. Something bad must have happened at work, or else he wouldn't behaving this way. Harry couldn't lie to save his own life, nor could he keep a secret very well; he wore his emotions on his sleeves, and that's why you matched well with him in the first place.

You stepped out the shower and wrapped a towel around your hair and body, then moved into the bedroom you shared. It wasn't how you had left it at all—the bed was made, and the sheets were fresh from the cupboard. You dried off and shimmied into your shorts and shirt. You towel dried your hair and plaited it over your shoulder.

You blinked at your reflection.

It blinked back, delayed by a second.

You immediately backed away and pointed accusingly at the mirror. "It's you again," you whispered harshly, watching as the reflection displayed a devious grin, completely the opposite of your irritated expression.

"Yes, yes," she hummed, waving you off with her hand. "Magic is a fickle thing. You chose Harry over our King."

She was direct and straight to the point. You frowned and slid back into the chair. "He was using me—"

"No he wasn't," she corrected fast, shaking her head in disapproval. "Our King did everything you asked of him. And you left. And you still haven't called for him. Why haven't you called for him? You know you want to."

Why hadn't you called for him? Harry told you he was using you for entertainment. You were just another pawn in his sick game of taking advantage of vulnerable wishes. You bit your tongue every time you thought about calling for the goblins to take you away; it was always so tempting to leave this world behind.

"I won't be tricked again," you explained firmly. You drummed your fingers into the surface of your vanity. "I don't belong there, do I? Harry told me—"

"Harry is a liar and a cheat," she hissed, her hands pressing against the mirror. It was almost like she was trying to claw her way out. You were thankful that this wasn't a scene out of a horror film, or else you'd have been screaming in fear. "Don't you think he's been acting strange today?"

"He's probably tired," you defended.

"From?"

"From..." you couldn't find the words to back up your argument. Harry's job wasn't laborious in the slightest. It was an office job that required him to sit, drink coffee, talk to other people via email and meetings, scroll through his phone, type a few words on a document then go home. Sure it could be mentally draining, staring at the same four walls for 8 hours a day, but that didn't mean he wouldn't be tired. Right?

Then, the reflection lifted her finger and pointed at something behind you. You blinked, confused, then spotted the gift bag you had left out in the entrance of the apartment. You whirled around to confirm it was there, and it was. You stood and picked it up, and instinct told you to pull out the crystal ball from the bag.

"He's awfully suspicious," she taunted from the mirror, her eyes glistening something dangerous and knowing. "Take a look."

"That's spying," you muttered, your thumb rubbing over the smooth glass.

"It's checking," she whispered.

A white mist rolled from the centre of the ball, then revealed Harry sitting in the lounge with the laptop perched on his lap. He seemed completely normal, typing away with the TV playing a random film as background noise. But then his phone buzzed, and he immediately discarded his laptop and unlocked the texting app, revealing Casey's contact and an entire history of messages.

You sank down on to the bed as Harry smiled dearly at the messages. He glanced around to check you weren't there, and he texted back. They were flirting—sending kisses and making jokes about their most recent meeting, about how wonderful it was to be in one another's arms again, to explore one another so personally and deeply.

You felt something shatter.

Tears rolled down your cheeks. You zoomed across the room and flung open the drawers, threw on outside clothes and began stuffing random articles of clothing into a duffel bag. You ignored the sly smirk from your reflection, not noticing the way she faded completely.

The bedroom door opened, revealing Harry's mop of messy hair. He peered in, confused, then gaped at the sight of you packing your things. "What are you doing? What's going on?" He exclaimed in panic, rushing to your side to grab your arms and stop you from moving.

You pushed him away, expression darkening at the mere sight of him. "I'm leaving," you spat, bitterly and venomous. "For good. Have fun with Casey. I'm sure you'll both be perfect for each other."

Harry visibly paled, and the clogs inside his mind whirled as the connection was made. "I don't—how did—" He lunged forwards and secured your arms around your body, and you struggled to move against him.

"Let go," you demanded, whipping your shoulders back and forth to try and throw him off. His grip remained firm and secure, his nails digging into your skin.

"No." He huffed, "I want to talk about this."

"There's nothing to talk about!" You hissed. You tried pinching his arms, but he merely groaned and held you tighter. It was becoming harder to breathe at this point, and a brief fear that he might accidentally suffocate you crossed your mind.

"[Name], please just listen to me," Harry begged, his voice an annoying sound in your ear. Like a fly buzzing around something sweet.

"So you can lie to me again? I trusted you! I believed you when you said you wouldn't see her again! And you're texting her! I bet you didn't want to come to my shows because you were seeing her instead!" You cried accusingly.

You'd caught Harry again. Well, sort of. You weren't going to admit that Jareth had given you the means to discover his betrayal, because that would only add further fuel to the argument. You didn't need him finding out your methods of discovery, it was practically irrelevant.

"She messaged me first," Harry argued, as if that very fact would make anything better.

"Why didn't you block her?"

"She got a new number!"

"Then block that too!" You shouted. It was like he found a thrill in cheating on you; sneaking around behind your back and romancing another woman. He must have found an enjoyment in being involved with Casey, then romancing you as if he hadn't just done something wrong. You felt icky and disgusted, especially now that he'd wrapped you into his arms so you couldn't escape.

"I'll do better," Harry quickly said, his attitude changing from defensive to pleading. He spun you around so you were forced to look up at him. His eyes were glossed over, and his face was rather red. "I won't do it again. I'll phone her now and tell her that I'm finished with her. I'll do it."

His ramblings made you want to be sick.

You needed to get away from him. There was no way you could trust him again, not after he'd cheated with the same girl twice. You felt stupid for ever believing that he'd change. You thought he was afraid of losing you to the Goblin King, that nearly remaining in the Underground would have surely broken his heart—but it was clear to you now that he didn't have a heart.

"Phone her then," you decided coldly. "Phone her. Now."

Harry let go and he bolted for the door.

You crumbled to your knees and began scraping together the shattered crystal ball. You desperately tried to piece them back together, but it was useless.

Your head tilted forwards and a harsh sob left your throat. How could you have been so incredibly stupid? You'd always said that a cheater was forever a cheat, and that if your significant other ever cheated then you'd never forgive them. Why didn't you take your own advice? You wanted to believe that your relationship could remain as it had, but you were so stupidly wrong.

"Goblin King..." you huffed under your breath, tears dripping into tiny puddles on the bedroom floor. You sniffled and rubbed your eyes. "I... I wish..."

The words were stuck in your mouth. You were extremely conflicted. Did you really want to leave like this? You could go back into the city and find your friends and maybe crash at theirs for a few days. They would remain out partying until the sun would surely rise—it was their typical fashion.

Harry returned to the bedroom with his phone fumbling around in his hands. You could hear the tone dial beeping, signalling that he was calling somebody.

"Hello? No. Its over. I don't want to see you anymore," Harry said into the phone, his eyes directly trained on you. You tensed up, feeling like his words were directed to you rather than Casey. "I can't keep sneaking around. It's exhausting. I'm not in love with you anymore."

He's not in love with you anymore.

Your lips parted in disbelief. This is the push that you needed. You suddenly felt empowered. You felt... free.

"I wish the goblins would take me away."

Harry's expression turned into shock as the words left your mouth. He lowered his phone and moved towards you, his hand shooting out to cover your mouth, to muffle the words about to be spoken.

But you were too fast.

"Right now."

[depressedcatboy]

I've been listening to the new Kaveh fansong (Writing on the Wall by Will Stetson), and I realized how relevant it is to my family. There are a lot of architects/aspiring architects in my family, and there's a lot of sad history with architecture.

My late grandfather was an architect while he still lived in Hong Kong, but when he moved to England with my grandmother, he never was able to get a job and he struggled knowing that he wasn't the main provider for the family. He was diagnosed with dementia a few months before he died, but we think that he had it for at least 10 years before his diagnosis.

My mother has a cousin who is still alive, but vehemently believes that doomsday is imminent and the world will end soon. She moved to America after becoming an architect, but stayed there for 20 years, unable to work because she was waiting on her green card. She got sucked into a doomsday cult, and moved back to China after getting her green card. She still has not worked as an architect, despite being licensed. Her immediate family doesn't even talk to her because she can only talk about religion and the end of the world now.

I have a cousin who is hoping to study architecture, and have considered it myself because of my grandfather. It feels very inauspicious, though.

I'm sorry for the big rant. It's just that this song reminded me of all of my relatives' and my family's experiences with architecture. As an artist myself, I completely understand that feeling. Last weekend, I stayed up for five hours straight, until 3am when I had to wake up early the next day to paint something for my mothers birthday. In the end, I only felt like a failed son. I feel like this endless cycle of self destruction in inevitable for me and my family. My mother is like this, my father is like this, I'm like this. We all put our work and our obligations to others above our obligations to ourselves.

[starsworldd]

Astrology transit observations :p

hello all! i hope you’re doing absolutely lovely today <3. after i finish this post im gonna do dishes and homework and be souper productive!! >:)) hehe anyways i hope you enjoy and as always only take what resonates :> important note before you read: the transits that include contacts with natal placements are most prominent when the transit planet is retrograding over your natal placement:

(it would also count for the jupiter square mercury. id say maybe the only exception to this guideline are saturn-saturn and jupiter-jupiter transits but take that with a grain of salt)

Transit venus observations:

- venus sextile moon is such a pleasant transit <3 i’ve found it can bring inner peace, relaxation, and harmony with ppl at home.

- venus transit the 1st house can mean making plans with friends more often and spending more money on clothes, food, jewelry, etc..

- venus trine neptune is a dream-like transit. when i had this, i was doing fun things with my friends all the time that i never thought would be coming my way, sleeping in until 12 everyday and staying up until 3am with my friends eating ice cream out of the tub, it was an amazing time truly. 

Transit mars observations:

- mars square venus can bring conflicts in friendships. because it’s a square aspect, there’s a tendency to try and make the relationship (of any kind) work but at the end, there can be aggravation on both sides.

- mars trine neptune can be another dream-like influence. but it’s different to the venus one. it might make one spend more time with their thoughts, imagination, listening to music, etc… but it especially makes one significantly less ambitious, but it’s not a bad thing. this transit is the definition of simply vibing i’d say :D

- mars transit the 11th house is a really cool transit. it’s going after goals, meeting with friends, maybe making new online friends too, it’s a really ambitious and successful transit (depending on aspects and what sign mars is in ofc).

Transit jupiter observations:

- transit jupiter in the 9th house. dang. it really messes with your mind, but not in a bad way. i’ve found that this transit really helps to define your values + morals and the life path you want to journey and learn more about in terms of vocation/calling in life (**wink wink** 10th house stuff). it can be a really life changing transit honestly.

- jupiter conjunct venus is one of the best transits. it’s a lot like the venus trine neptune transit, but i think there’s a sense of protection with this transit; for example, before i had this transit, i didn’t really have a stable friend group and i felt insecure about my social situation, but then when this transit happened, i found a really amazing friend group who are still with me till this day!

- jupiter sextile mercury can be a really productive time in your life. you may be starting new projects, learning about new subjects, or doing more writing of any kind :)).

Transit saturn observations:

- saturn transit the 8th house is life-changing. it can be a really challenging time in your life where you have to push yourself through the challenge, but you’ll be thankful for the change once the transit is over.

- saturn sextile mercury 🤝 making goals that will stick in the future.

- saturn opposite saturn (saturn opposition) is a time of major readjustment in terms of goals/career. however its effects can manifest differently depending on the axis. for me, it was happening on my 2nd-8th house axis. this was around the time when i made changes to myself and my habits in order to actually pursue music. my dad also had this on his 2nd-8th house axis and this was around the time when his company was making big $.

Transit uranus observations:

- transit uranus sextile mc may bring new long-term changes to your goals and aspirations!

- uranus opposite moon is a really difficult transit. truly, one of the most mentally exhausting ones imo. you may feel like you want to break free from all that’s holding you back in your life at that moment but you simply can’t and you must comply with the restricting circumstances, therefore damaging your mental health :(

- uranus in the 11th house may be a really interesting time in your life. you may meet new groups of people, but they may walk out of your life as quickly as they came in. however, there can be connections made that do have a lasting impact too :>

Neptune transit observations:

- neptune trine moon is the epitome of cozy time. it’s similar to the venus sextile moon transit but more homebody vibes and less focus on connecting with others.

- neptune sextile venus may prove to be a really fruitful time for artists. more than usual you may be able to come up with creative ideas frequently. maybe you just feel more in tune with music, daydreaming, drawing, etc… another really pleasant transit :)

- neptune transit the 10th house can make one feel lost with how their future may look like. it can be a time of uncertainty regarding your career goals + aspirations.

Transit pluto observations:

- just to preface, i’ve found that no matter if it’s a positive or negative aspect, pluto transits most of the time always come with some sort of challenge.

- pluto sextile moon may bring permanent changes not only in your physical home but in how you handle your emotions too. i’ve found that it brings stability after major trauma was done unto you.

- pluto conjunct venus is a really jealous time in your life. you may see other people have the friends you want, the status you want, even the personality you want. it can be really damaging for your self-esteem and you may forget the wonderful qualities you possess as a person too :<

and that is the end of the post! thank you so much for reading and i hope you’ve enjoyed✨