It's 2018 and people think that the apocalypse has ended. Where cities, homes, businesses and humble towns once stood, now there lies only death, only destruction, only emptiness. Only the moans and the shuffles of the living dead. But in reality, it's only just begun. And for two lonely boys, once separated from each other by dead-town states and not even aware of each other's existence, it's far from being over. It's not about saving the world. It's about saving themselves. ----------------------------------

He was so, so beautiful. And not in just the physical way. He was beautiful in what he was. Fire and smoke and tall things and candy and laughter and football games he didn't care about and music that he did and I will never be able to forget any of that, and I can't say that I ever want to. *** This story will contain upsetting thoughts and actions because of the fact that it's written from the view of a depressed human being. & i would edit this (considering it was written about two years back), but it's cool to leave things where they are. enjoy my older writing, dudes xx

THE AUTHOR OF THIS FIC IS @takenbyphun ON TWITTER // NOT MY FIC A teenager with Asperger's Syndrome who loves poetry meets a person his age and he seems fascinated by what shade of red their hair is.

This is place where all fellow emos can come together. It comes complete with random band stuff, fangirl moments, and the occasional bad pun. Very bandom much phan such emo

WARNING: I SHALL NOT BE HELD RESPONSIBLE FOR ANY STUPID THINGS YOU DO BECAUSE OF THIS BOOK. I DO NOT PERSONALLY OWN ALL OF THESE. VIEWER DISCRETION IS MOST DEFINITELY ADVISED. When you're bored, you go do something to make you "un-bored". I suggest Netflix, Youtube, or if you're a bookworm, reading. Personally, I'm more of a WattpadWorm, but you can be any type of worm you want to be, I'm not judging. When you're really bored, you can read my book. Go try some of these things. Tell me how it works. If you get kicked out of somewhere, I feel your pain. I have gotten "Please leave"s and "We would prefer it if you were to not come back here."s for dares. I've also gotten kicked out of lecture halls for laughing too loudly with my friends or "being a disruption". BUT THAT IS BESIDES THE POINT. What even was my point? Oh yeah, I would love if you would read my book. I'm just a starting author, and every bit of criticism helps. I thank all of my readers so so much and you are fabulous. #34 in random ?! i know it may not last long, but RAD, BRO // keep reading, don't judge the book from this comment.

i was sinking, and i couldn't swim. {phan au} highest ranking - #10 in danandphil

My cringe inducing, hilarious, and sad stories, mostly as a result of being an Introvert. And a few psychotic ones because I'm an INTJ. ;p (Myers Briggs / Carl Jung typology (personality classification))

It's the lake in November, and the move closer to the ocean, and Gerard's fixation, and Gerard's compulsions like tidal waves dragging him down, and Mikey's more distant than ever: like they're drifting out into the middle of the ocean, whereas Gerard's just stuck there: water turning to quicksand around him, drowning. And it's the letter; Frank finds it on the floor of the boys' bathroom on the first floor. It's dropped in accident, perhaps from a pocket or something, and it's drenched in what Frank hopes is tap water, and the words: scrawled in blue ink are difficult to make out as the words join together in a fuzzy inky mess. The only paragraph legible is the final one, and even still, it barely is: 'I've been underwater for a long time now, but I'm not drowning, I'm beginning to think I can breathe like this, but I can't, I'm gasping for breath, and I have to do this, Mikey, I have to end this myself. I'm going to the lake on the 1st of November, don't wait for me... I'm not coming back.' And the name signed at the bottom is little more than a smudged mess of blue ink, and there's nothing Frank can do about it, but he knows for certain that the one thing he can't do is ignore this letter, and he reminds himself of that as he folds it into his pocket. It's a suicide note, Frank's stupid, but not stupid enough to brush over that fact, and whoever this person is, Frank knows that they most certainly don't deserve to die. And Frank isn't going to let them. Because he's going to find this person; he's got time now at least, and he can save them, he will save them - Frank promises himself that. But one person in a whole school, it's like a needle in a haystack, but he's got time, it's November 1st in thirty days, and he can only hope that it will be enough. He's got one month: the date is October 1st.