Dan is different. He's learned to accept that. Well, as best he can anyway, considering he's never really had much of a choice. It's been this way for as long as he can remember, the constant runaround process of trying to feel normal. His life is built around it, trying to trick both himself and everyone he interacts with into seeing him as your average person. The isolation as he desperately tries to keep others from finding out, the bitterness that wells up inside of him each and every time he's reminded that he'll never be like everyone else, the fear that nothing will ever change. He's fated to be this way forever; a misfit from society. Isolation can only go so far though, so when he's struggling to make ends meet and he's faced with the option of looking into a serious job or taking on a roommate, he opts for what seems like the easier option at the time. It doesn't seem so easy ten failed roommates into the process, or when he sits down at a table to meet with prospect number eleven and ends up with a coffee spilled all over his lap. Potential roommate number eleven, Phil, turns out to be an insufferable optimistic ball of sunshine that Dan wants nothing to do with. His options are running out though, as are the savings he's been using to pay his rent, so he finds himself begrudgingly agreeing to let the other man move in. Neither of them have any way of knowing just what they've gotten themselves into as they shake on the matter, but time will tell.

in the plethora of pornography options for the modern saint [Poetry #51] [2015]

❝ this was supposed to be a dare--i wasn't supposed to fall in love. ❞

BOOK i in which taehyung can't sleep and strikes a deal to sleep with his classmate after catching him looking at porn in maths class. ©SHARMILA / nectaerine sept 2016 - nov 2016

Do not read this unless you have read the main fic and prologue first! Main fic, prologue, then epilogue. In that order. 20 years later and there was still so much that was left unsaid. Until now.

Frank is just an ordinary person, with an ordinary job, when one day everything changes. A flaming metal object falls from the sky, crashes right in his backyard, and what was inside it would change his life forever. Chapters: 33/33. Complete. FAQ at the end covers all 3 installations of the fic. Prologue and Epilogue can be found on my page.

What if you could hear them? The thoughts they deigned not reasonable enough to say out loud, the things not suitable for even a giggly teenage gossip conversation. Would it be a blessing or a curse? Troye, the unlucky teenager bestowed with this 'gift', thinks of it as a curse, with good reason. Do you know how hard it is to keep a relationship with someone when you know exactly what they think of you? Impossible. It's impossible. Or at least that's what Troye thinks, considering he's given up on even trying to make it work. He's different, people shun different. People hate different. And it's better to go under the radar, to be nothing, than to be hated. Right? Tyler, on the other hand, has taken a different approach to a similar problem. No, he can't 'read minds', but he does have a part of himself he doesn't want a soul to know about. He's quarterback, every girl's dream guy, an academic mastermind, and he's also gay. He's seen how different kids get treated, hell, he's been the one to treat them that way before. Why on Earth would he ever wish that on himself? No, it's easier to hide, to be someone you're not, than to be hated. Right?

What is the best way to keep a secret? "Tell it to everyone you know, but pretend you are kidding" - Lemony Snicket. It turned out that Snicket was painfully correct. By the time I reached P.E. after lunch on Monday, it was tipping over the edge of eighty degrees, and my red hoodie had been stuffed in the back of my locker since Brunch. I'd lost count of how many people had gaped at my arm with shocked expressions and open mouths, curious voices unsure of whether or not they wanted to know the answer asking, "Did you cut your arm?" By third period, I'd gotten so fucking sick of repeating the same excuse that my sarcastic asshole side had leaked out. So, I'd been responding to my classmates appalled questions with something along the lines of, "Yes, I cut myself." There was a kind of sick humor to it - technically, I was telling the truth. Not that anyone would ever know it. Cover cred to RazorbladeKissesx