Dyslexia: Feels DumbFeels Dumb.
It is a horrid moment when that test is placed before you and you stare at it for a moment before writing your name upon the virgin white paper. You twiddle your thumbs, a sweat breaking out upon your brow and bite your lip with nerves.
I understand. I really do.
When that test is placed before me and I've already suffered one panic attack wondering what exam it is I have today or whether I have an exam at all. One panic attack down. Many more to go.
I knot my fingers; make them scrap across my skin because somehow it calms me to feel something against my skin. I begin to shake my leg, its motions erratic as I try to get rid of the panic filled energy flowing through me.
I want to cry. I don't like this. I want out. Let me out.
No. I must stay and see this through.
Exams are high though. Everyone feels dumb in them, don't they? Everyone always seems so happy and surprised with their results so I guess that's evidence.
Let us lower it, shall we?
How about somewhere si
I think I am beginning to run out of words to describe how I feel... shame really. Even my thoughts are beginning to die. There used to be so many of them running around inside my mind but now... silence. Well, not entirely. But mostly they have just... stopped. Stopped running. Flying. Whatever it is that they did. They have just stopped moving altogether. Maybe my thoughts are tired. Tired of themselves. They are all the same anyway. I bet they are sick of each other and their constant whining and moaning. I know I am.
The problem is that I am tired. But it is not just the physical type of tired. I am tired. Just tired. And to be honest, I am not sure what I am tired of. Myself maybe. Or my thoughts. Or life. Or things. I have yet to work it out.
My head hurts. How unfortunate on my part.
I feel numb. How empty.
Phan: Blood Vessel [Part 17]
Still buried within his covers, Dan listened to the sound of the shower, all the while wondering what was going through Phil's mind. How did he feel about Dan? Did he want him? Or see him as a simple blood vessel and sex toy? Dan did not know.
Pricking his ears at the sound of the shower turning off, Dan listened to the sound of Phil's feet hitting the floor before rising himself from his bed with a grunt. He was going to find out some answers.
Making his way out into the corridor, he knocked once upon Phil's bedroom door before opening the door and stepping inside. He was greeted with a surprised Phil, a towel draped around his slender waist and arms raised to his head where he had been drying his dark hair with another towel.
Blood rose to Dan's cheeks at the sight but he tried not to let the sight before him get a hold on his nerves as he said, "Phil, how do you see me?"
The older man raised an eyebrow, seeming to think before replying with an answer.
"You're my best friend Dan, you
Phan: Blood Vessel [Part 25]
Dropping the knife in the sink, Phil returned to his bedroom where Dan was lying on the bed, his limbs extended and eyes closed. Phil smiled as he admired the tanned and toned body of his lover, only his boxers hiding the rest of his bare flesh.
Climbing on top of Dan on the bed, he supported himself with his arms and legs either side of the brunette's body and watched as Dan opened his eyes and gazed at Phil through half open lids. Phil smiled and the other returned it before he reached up and wrapped his arms around his pale neck, drawing him closer as their lips locked in a sweet kiss.
As their lips drew apart Dan leaned up and whispered in Phil's ear, "I love you Phil."
Phil slid himself down so he was lying on top of Dan as he wrapped his arms around the boy he loved as he kissed his lips once more and murmured against them softly, "I love you too Dan."
The brunette smiled as they kissed again until their clothes were discarded upon the floor, their limbs tangled beneath the cover
Johnlock: Just Don't
"Just Don't," John whispered as Sherlock pressed against him, his breathe hot against John's skin.
"John..." Sherlock whispered and the other shook his head and whispered again, "Just don't. Please."
John knew Sherlock knew how much it hurt him and yet he said it anyway, those simple little words that made John fall for the detective each time.
"I love you," he whispered and captured John's lips with his own.
Just MeThese scars that run along my arms,
Scarring my skin for others to see,
A pain to bare for my emotional state,
In which I inflict pain without purpose,
And then act as if everything is fine,
When I know it is not.
Why do I seem to cry each night?
Smothering my sobs into a familiar pillow,
Only myself and the walls of my room to hear me,
As my soul bleeds out from within,
For no one but me will ever hear them,
As if they'd care to listen.
Thoughts flitter through my mind at times,
Horrid things of dark intentions,
And I shove them aside,
Tell them to leave,
And yet they always come back,
As if haunting me,
Just for fun.
Did I do something wrong?
In a past life, perhaps?
If one believes in those anyway.
Is it a chemical imbalance in my mind?
Or is it all a simple phase,
As everyone seems to think.
I guess it does not matter,
As if anyone cared to begin with,
I'll allow others to stare upon my scars,
Let them judge with horror in their eyes,
Maybe even disgust?
I don't mind crying to slee
Phan: It Means Nothing [Part 10]
"It means nothing," he murmured as he played with Dan's hair. The brunette was asleep beside him on the sofa, their bodies tightly squished together on the leather seat, heat exchanging between them and their hearts beating loudly together. Dan's face was buried in Phil's chest and Phil was supporting Dan's weight with his arm wrapped around his middle so the brunette did not fall off the sofa.
Curling his brown locks around his fingers, Phil sighed as he kissed Dan's forehead and whispered, "It means everything to me."
Phan: It Means Nothing [Part 11]
His eyes slowly opened and he looked up to see Phil kissing his forehead. He did not move until his lips left his skin and then he reached up to bring their lips together as he closed his eyes again.
He could feel the fingers that were once in his hair now reach back down to join the other arm around his waist to stop him from falling off of the sofa and he pressed himself closer to his pale frame as he deepened the kiss.
"Dan," Phil breathed against his lips when they parted and Dan kissed him again as his arms reached up from around Phil's waist up to his neck where he dug his fingers within his dark locks. He bit the other's lips as Phil whimpered and drew him closer to him.
"Don't ever leave me," he heard him say and Dan felt his breath hitch at the words from his friend. They locked gazes and Dan slowly nodded, burying himself closer again and returning his arms to around Phil's waist as he felt the other squeeze his own waist. Phil rested his head upon Dan's brown curls and smile
Phan: It Means Nothing [Part 13]
"Fucking bastard, fuck, fuck, fuck!" Dan muttered angrily to himself as he buried himself beneath his bed covers and pillows. He held the pillow over his head as he heard a light knock on his bedroom door.
"Fuck off Phil you wanker," he said loud enough for the other to hear and yet still the slight creak of his door was heard as it opened, the light sound of shuffling coming next as Phil entered the room and then the swift shutting of the door before silence. Phil did not move and nor did Dan. For a moment they simply existed in that room, both unsure as to what to say.
The bed dipped as weight was added and Dan unburied himself from beneath the pillow as he growled angrily, "I thought I told you to fuck off-" although he was quickly silenced by Phil's lips on his own.
He almost melted into the kiss but he pushed him away and turned his back to him as he spat, "Bastard."
"I'm sorry Dan," Phil murmured after a while and Dan refused to turn to him because he knew his blue eyes would be
Silence (Ch. 8)Title: Silence
Genre: super mega fluff. On a stick.
Pairing: Phan (YES)
Warnings: uhm SLASH without giving too much away
Disclaimer: I do not own Amazingphil or danisnotonfire and this is fictional.
A/N: I couldn't NOT write this chapter. Seriously. ._. <3 Enjoy!
Dan smiled shyly to himself as he and Phil turned onto his street, their fingers comfortably locked. It was really late and the wind was making it cold and it was almost pitch black, but Dan couldn't help but feel all warm and fuzzy, considering the current situation. The weather couldn't dampen his mood if it wanted to!
The dance had been, well.... Absolutely fantastic, to say the very least. They danced to several slow songs and a few faster ones, silly smiles lighting up their faces the entire time. When they grew tired of dancing, the pair grabbed some punch and treated to a free corner together to mumble and grin at each other. Even in the dim lighting, Phil could still read Dan's
Phil is not on fire - Phan3rd Person POV
"I already look like Voldemort" Phil pointed out. "I would bang Voldemort." said Dan, hoping Phil understood what he was implying. Phil turned around to look at Dan with a semi-seductive face. "okay." Phil told him, ripping off his clothes and turning into Voldemort.
and then they had sex
Check YesPhil stood at his locker looking down at his open notebook. He kept all his drawings of his crush in there but the page that stared at him only had 7 words on them.
Do you like me? Yes or no
It was really grade school and overly childish to write something like that but it was the simplest way to sum up his feelings.
The late bell rung so he closed his notebook and ran to his class hoping not to get detention this time. The slip was already filled out and waiting for the black haired boy when he opened the door. Great. He heard a snicker from the class as he grabbed the paper off of the teachers desk. He didn't have to look up to know where that came from.
It was of course Dan. The youngest of the Howells. You could tell the family heritage by the brown eyes, brown hair, and tanned complexion. Yes he was a snobby, goody goody, posh Howell alright.
Phil threw a hateful sneer at him before sitting in his seat. The pale boy knew he wasn't exactly "bad ass" but he wasn't "Howell posh" as h
Phan: Final MomentsTitle: Phan: Final Moments.
Warnings: self harm / death
The blade etching along his skin. Pain. Pleasure. He couldn't bare it any longer - the emotions. He didn't care. Nobody cared. The 'phans' only care about Dan.
They didn't even notice I was there. Even during the lives they want Dan. I'm just not important.
As he felt cigarettes and alcohol enter his nose, he knew he only had a few minutes before he'd get destroyed once again. Burned. Not physically, no, it was so much worse. The words. The feeling. The emotion. The invisible scars. He couldn't take it any longer. The blood grew thicker and thicker.
He'd lost control years ago but only now did he want to die.
Death was such a thin line. It was tormenting him, playing it's sick games. Messing with his fucked up little head.
To who is ever bothering to read this - Don't listen to your head. It's lying. I wasn't anything. I'm nothing. I don't deserve to live, to love, to be happy. I don't
Conjoined Roofs - Phan - part 2The next morning, Dan was ready to go to school. He was about to knock on Phil's door, when he suddenly was bombarded with a million thoughts.
what if his mum answers?
what if she doesn't like me?
What if what if what if
He ran back up to his room and stepped out on the roof again. Dan leaped to the roof of Phil's house and knocked on his window.
Phil was stood in his room getting his clothes on when he heard a knock coming from the window. He assumed it was a bird slamming into it, but went to check anyway, and to his surprise, it was Dan.
Phil appeared at the window shirtless. Dan realised how pale his new... friend.. was. He grew worried, since everyone at the school was tanned, he knew Phil would stand out. Everyone was born really tan, or is fake tanned, but everyone is really dark. Dan, who was pretty tanned himself, was one of the paler ones. When kids pick on him they usually bring it up as a flaw.
"What are you doing
Different Scars, Different Stories - PhanDan's POV
The repeatitive beeps of my alarm clock rang in my ears. I woke up, following my daily routine: get dressed, eat breakfast, brush my teeth, straightened my hair, etc, to get ready for school. The number 1 reason I hate school: Getting up at 6:30AM is not fun.
As I was pulling my skinny jeans on, my phone started beeping, alerting me I had a new text message. I picked up my phone and instantly hated everything.
It was Saturday.
Here I was, ready for the bus at 7:20, and it's Saturday. Great.
I looked at the text to see a message from my best friend Phil.
"Can you come over to mine today? Doesn't matter what time. It's important..."
I quietly tip-toed to my parents room and push the door open. I look in to see a perfectly made bed. Perfect. They're both at work.
"Yeah. Is now fine?" I text Phil. Within a few minutes, he replies "Sure"
The walk to Phil's house was cold and silent. I didn't think it would be so windy out. I wish I brought a hoodie.