#/s he’s nothing like melon husk | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

deerydear · 11 months

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I keep coming back to this essay.

It has a second part, and I recommend reading through that, entirely.

“If you want to look thin, you hang out with fat people.” — Thornton Melon

Are you afraid you might be a coward? Join us in pretending to believe this lie and you can pretend to feel brave. Are you afraid that your life is meaningless? Join us in pretending to believe this lie and you can pretend your life has purpose. Are you afraid you’re mired in mediocrity? Join us in pretending to believe this lie and you can pretend to feel exceptional. Are you worried that you won’t be able to forget that you’re just pretending and that all those good feelings will thus seem hollow and empty? Join us and we will pretend it’s true for you if you will pretend it’s true for us. We need each other.

You can’t be doing well if it seems like an improvement to base your life and your sense of self on a demonizing slander that you know is only a fantasy. To challenge that fantasy, to identify it as nothing more than that, is to threaten to send them back to whatever their lives were like before they latched onto this desperate alternative.

That suggests to me that if we are to have any hope of disabusing them of their fantasies, then we will need to recommend some third alternative, something other than the lie or the reality that had seemed even worse.

I see this as such a wonderful dissection and laying-out of a part of the human psyche that I am all-so-much familiar with.

Now, my part: "Let (s)he who has not sinned cast the first stone!"

wait..... um.

..... the eyes were 'sposed to be INSIDE the cairn, like this illustration of Hermes I once saw in a book. It looks too balanced that I don't want to add anymore to it.

Everyone throws a damn stone, because they don't understand, yet.

They don't get that by even pretending to be better than these people, they're enacting the same psychological complex. It's fractalized, infinite.

It'll repeat forever, if you want it to...

You'll always end up being someone else's bad guy, if you do.

"Oh, but it's worth it, to be the bad guy to Evil.... isn't that just like being the good guy? I'm the enemy of evil!"

Yeah, that's what every schmuck in line is telling themselves. Every single link in the chain believes that, and yet the next one believes the link ahead of it is evil.

It's deeper than that, man...

Not to say that the origin of the chain is necessarily a good guy!

In the article, the example of animal abusers sticks out as an origin-point. I think...... I think....

Again, I whole-heartedly agree that kitten-burning is really, really bad. But the leap from “that’s bad” to “I’m not that bad” is dangerous and corrosive.

I just see this all over tumblr, with a bunch of people pretending they're special and important because they aren't.... bad. You want a fucking medal?

Even me complaining about that, is in action just another link in the chain. That's what I mean. Fancy words for nothing. Pffff!

Instead of comparing downwards, why don't you compare upwards? You should find people who genuinely inspire you to become better at something.

That's where the whole lazy concept of the "oppressed middle-class white american" comes into play. "Oh boo hoo. I feel bad, I don't want to do anything because it makes me feel.... um, in danger."

In the world, the only two states of life are growth, or atrophy.

Either you are putting yourself into challenges, and learning from everything.... or else you will wither into a husk and nothing will save you, unless you save yourself. The curse is made by your own hand.

When a crustacean needs to molt, he slides out of his hard shell, revealing the soft, gooey creature. If it stays inside its shell, then it will never be able to get bigger. The softness of its skin is necessary to be able to pump up to a bigger size, before its hard shell grows back. The same path that can lead to so much potential pain, is also the only road to growth.

You never know, if you never try.... except in my case, where I knew, and I tried against my best instinct.

(but hey, through this process, I figured out many things I wanted to figure out... The only thing I ponder is that I may have figured them out without making the exact same choices that I did.)

Just like there are chains of misery... There are chains of love and inspiration.

"This inspired me to do something. This person made me feel loved. This was interesting. I love this!"

I think, even further... the entire world is filtered through your mind, and what you pick out of the sifted sand says a great deal about your process.

I believe, in my case, I was always aware of this.... but I thought "being negative" was cooler.

I had to see the actions I had put forth come into fruit... to realize those aren't seeds I want planted.

I'm reading the Bhagavad Gita.

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sirjustice1085 · 3 years

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making machines

Githeri then hurl tea already processed or chop semi dry ones gives za jets in company basements slanting towards the sea or in open air and anything on such above changing the slanting environments as said earlier produces another thing altogether like cold, warm, hot drinks and foods and even mixed liquids dude, give u many options cause each produces another gadget with side effects or durable and weak so to select from bro same as cooked green grams mixed with tortilla or chapati then hurl cold tea or hot as well as with water and all mentioned above gives u another something altogether. Like with hot water jets, hot tea pay tv, hot milk suitcase while cold 1 gives ya guns and ammunition and try as well with any fluid and mixture, animal bones and meat and even hide dude

Even monies and ballot papers can be made much in the boom process or by simply taking the photo or capture on camera then place on projector and make much by chopping like lime as mentioned earlier. They want population to be much so they increase the voting masses so to make much ballot papers and boxes to sell to add to their economy or place in investments, those previous nations that were tendered to produce such 4 poor nations dude. The Govt challenged now make 4 ya self the same from scratch via old one change names, dates and post through the projector or print few then as with exam papers make much in the boom process to save that capital and place it somewhere not making such nations rich. Imagines if they are few and locate how many nations having such practices as election withing 5 years who have given them such tender to see how big voting population is their happiness if u did not know dude

Images of sky scrappers in Malagasy made under the boom process by taking a big 3d photo of any building u love like govt center in mineapolise, Minnesota glue onto any prism shape 1 at a time in heap of sewer water with any veggie or fruits or leaves then u locate any as the above to chop or drop when either cooked, rotted, cold or normal and even with anything as animal parts and mixing of fluid or illuminate such above heap with project photo of the building u wanna make and even from motion pictures from like YouTube dude. The building can be in a trench or hollow land or steeped one or land 4 it to come out dude

https://www.terrasol.fr/en/realisations/immeuble-little-manhattan-a-antananarivo-madagascar

https://www.pinterest.com/pin/105130972538217117/

https://www.skyscrapercity.com/threads/madagascar-antananarivo-tour-orange-33-fl-t-o.1467591/

https://www.google.com/imgres?imgurl=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.icimadagascar.fr%2Fwp-content%2Fuploads%2F2013%2F12%2FLa-plus-grande-tour-dAntananarivo-e1429449430368.jpg&imgrefurl=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.skyscrapercity.com%2Fshowthread.php%3Ft%3D1467591&tbnid=kR53PXGNy4hdJM&vet=12ahUKEwjTxNPUioftAhVNZxoKHf1JC0sQMygwegUIARCoAg..i&docid=VA1DVOQBOP3KpM&w=683&h=1024&q=antananarivo%20buildings%20images&client=firefox-b-d&ved=2ahUKEwjTxNPUioftAhVNZxoKHf1JC0sQMygwegUIARCoAg

RICE made when like one in the bag below placed next to cooked ugali then u chop iced kale in slanting lands towards the sea or chop cooked carrots when placed next to maize or next to kale chop mango seed with inside but this on land slanting towards the road placing all veggies, fruits or leaves in boxes or under sand either rotten, raw or cooked dude

https://chirowaonline.com/product/s-s-pishori-rice-5-kg/

While Michelin tire as in the link below made when 1 sample placed next to bunch of kale then u chop kunde in slanting lands to the red river or chop carrots when heap raw maize or chop raw guava still when heap kale bro but mixed with super cold water on this one dude or mix mix carrot in guava in company basements slanting towards the road and then chop iced water melons or iced kale or trample on different cattle intestine and even rodents as well as human as u give a try 4 the best and most durable tire come out with which one dude

https://www.carid.com/michelin-tires/pilot-sport-4-suv-1895101893.html

What happens on the slanting factory basement to the lake, matters with the drop or trampled or to be chopped as well on lakeside, roadside or planted trees in a row or clear or red river if u chop another something or drop or trample still gives u that product which u should locate instead of running up and down locating which slanting land option can make the same as written dude or all the styles as mentioned earlier bro, perform and gives ya another even more durable or weak products to price cheap or exorbitantly within ya clientele

Any way what u r up 2 again if the jew migration thing u have waited upon over and all the expensive people can have in daily or weekly payment options and the mega expensive ones like yacht and jets u could not imagine having u can have if u come up like 10 people to contribute to have the same as your cruise days as its divide by 10 people the 30 day of a month dude. Anyway where is the world headed dude, where are we going if what we thought God makes, you must call the devil name or talk to it to happen and we know that dude and even made artificial products and monies, lets sit down and think twice and locate our new twist as jealousy that will give our kids and us pride, without nothing we champion 4 or look up-to to correct or spoil we headed know where or me me thinking different dude

What u wanna do dude, If Jamaica 90% Forex is sugar which can be made artificially and tourism which needs people they cant fight again dude or u wanna sit around and lick salt to give ya happiness, me know not dude or wanna be kid or hold grudges with such as in yester years with ya u did not enjoy to have the same

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tw429JGL5zo&index=28&list=PLD467F239B44469BA&t=0s

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XFkQvAumhGs

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c1DJQi2c67s

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cB5e0zHRzHc

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P5deLfDUePY

The song link above, hit that head as in the song love in the club to slow him down, grown but still playing young to upset others dude. The 1 below Russians wants it that way but long overdue dude and people got their weapons and somewhere else to outsource what they use, ought to be that way if u r straight dude, now amounting up with ya own and frustrating others in another land. If at all he could have told us the radar missile of more than 10 thousand Km as in the link below, u could have seen fire, we could not have spared even a rat in ya land, played with us 4 long dude, get it and be warned dude

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_XhOKIHGH7Q

The way Nairobi city buildings fenced brings an apple as in the begging of the song link above, as a people who love or long to strip women or make them naked and that's the joy dude which if are removed the whole saga diminish dude

https://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=naked+song

Nimeshinda ng’otho, nimeshinda lotho, kama mthotho, kama siwangu ni wanani na kama siwako niwanani

Green grams cooked with rice and chapati mixed then partake just normal cold water not all that cold and see 4 ya self a lesson as it directs you dude.

Kichwa ngumu now, wanna see if u get along or by to control lest war as opposite of previous

https://pctechmag.com/2020/05/uganda-exports-18000-phones-to-morocco/

Mochanda naseakia rumours una-ambia wasee heti si jui janta, works, kashi, sawa shawa mtu wa mine, mtu mwenye ajuwi kashi mtoto wake asumbui as opposed to yule ambacho ulisweet mwili yote kama mtoo, like of young women disturb of above menopos a little bit and of above 30 - 38 years most disturb not others and why marriages in developed nations encouraged on people to be 30 years kwanza to have kids as opposed to poor nations where majority of kids disturb as their mother hide away from responsibility and fathers deep in gangs to hide in to transfer fatherhood to those in the estates not hiding dude as they want to Marshall up their small cash many people and put in something dude 4 tomorrow saving and with ya exploited to suffer next if u know not and their happiness dude

Williamson liquor is made when kale placed inside carrots in dim bulb light in factory house basement slanting towards the lake then u chop wood soaked in cooked or raw cabbage water dude

Gas cylinders sprinkle much avocado juice unto it or even containers and car wreckage, newspapers, paw paw trunk, kunde, euphorbia trunk and then chop wood soaked in cabbage, carrot or other juices and boom ya 1 person saucer jets or hammer to chop dried paw paw seeds or divide clothes with knives or avocado seed or chop wet brown grass trying many people on each on all topographies as explained earlier bro

With limes is made when few pieces placed next to kale in the basement slanting towards the road or lake then u chop iced pumpkin or its seeds or kunde or pour acid on tomato seed or hide paw paw withing heap of goat skin or trample on ripe paw paw or mango seed dude while juice as in the link below made when such bottle placed adjacent to kale heap then in factory floor as above u chop guava seed but this to the clear river or avocado to the lake or cooked cabbage or drop acid on candy as sweets or on tangerine or trample on clothe immerse on sewer water or on any husks as groundnut or coconut in dim bulb light, different fruits, veggies, marbles hidden within boxes or under sand and Xmas lights on 1, 2, 3 or 4 raw above the heap or on the floor one at a time dude. Lime is used to soften hard liquors and places grown can gain much without such artificial advances to overwhelm them as hush baby

https://www.dialadrinkkenya.com/mixers-pep-lime-juice-1-5litres

https://universityhealthnews.com/daily/nutrition/8-amazing-benefits-of-lime/

https://www.statista.com/statistics/657049/production-of-lime-worldwide/

Even with exams stolen that way using mostly Italians b4 they are paid when on transit within police custody as they make much out of 1 without tampering with the original ones something many people wondered how as in the link below, placed next to bunch of kale in such lands as above in the ferrying roads and even next to hills and rivers and then chop timbers they had already soaked all all fruits as lime being one of them and all berries around and even veggies and try with one at a time until it gets out bro, tear it scan it and send it even 2 - 1 hr b4 exams making much monies from it and even with govt officials cause us we got cash we give a damn not of the poor, whether our kids pass or not with money they will get past them of the poor or 4ward dude

https://www.tuko.co.ke/291544-homa-bay-kcse-candidate-collapses-dies-playing-friends.html

https://www.capitalfm.co.ke/news/2018/05/knec-assures-kenyans-2018-exams-will-credible-warns-fake-papers/

Let exams be set 1 hr to exam then every kid having her laptop only on that link enabled other dis-enabled get the set then exam process and every school got a photocopier to copy 4 those students whose machines to wrecks dude. They can do that on cargo plane that can stand on air 4 days or tall upper most floor set 4 the same and people blocked from accessing like 20th floor of such buildings until exam setting gets depleted dude as in the link below bro

https://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=solar+cargo+drone+images

Obambo African dried tilapia when placed in heap of rice then chop wood immersed in raw chicken juice or cooked one gives ya internet and pay tv when when u chop wood soaked in fried, cooked or raw many types of fishes and try with every veggies, fruits, berries or leaves either cooked, fried, rotten or ripe as well as raw dude and with of every animal around you soaking the juices in esp soft and sometimes hardwood 4 different results dude. The rice above can be replaced with rye chaff or itself, rice and even grass, try in different topographies as above, serious dude, Bamba Tv AND kwase was made this way as i remember dude and u can even hurl with every bird feather with the bird killed immersed in water or in different mixtures or fluids and of animals as well both in the boom process. One of the easiest way and even with wireless electricity when u placed the obambo in bones of goat or sheep and try chopping any 1 of the woods soaked in 1 juice then another or mixture one after another until u get it bro maintaining all the explained above as Xmas lights and those hidden in boxes dude. if u hurl with cooked kale obambo placed in brown grass with acid water gives ya drones but in planted grass place the dried tilapia fish hurl with cooked kale or chop board soaked on the same gives ya missiles and so forth and so on dude

Those days when hustling was real when people were glued to the computer typing looking 4 jobs it was fantastic when u could get to that typist and they way they grasps words sounding was wow, kinda, something of respect and as well on ya side. People wanted not to be left out as hooligans just throw words, they wanted another slim swag world thinking they will amount up like mr white man but alas! Most were Guyana blooded and could destroy the world, so money was brought online and many people kept alert 4 their character to be out dude, can help as suggested b4 dude but of another not in our mind character wanting people to mingle with their own as if they are 1st dude. At-least we have known them now to desist away from them dude

Can buy ya own cargo drone as below and send it to a chain store drone center to pick ya goods as u pay online they got ya receipt which u describe 4 them ya drone so people monitors not your purchase to follow ya and not in ya house u can direct it as u can keep it on the sky till dusk to drop it somewhere else people see not to collect ya shopping dude. Think of this dude or motor bikes like of KFC recruited 4 them same and nowadays most people shy away from chains tore as people may identify you with many lazies who get their shopping of minute mind, “the Congo blooded men“

https://www.rolandberger.com/en/Point-of-View/Cargo-drones-The-future-of-parcel-delivery.html

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vmd8SS1F7d0

https://www.producereport.com/article/walmart-pilots-drone-delivery-service-north-carolina

https://diydrones.com/profiles/blogs/want-this-simple-cargo-drone

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v8wYCt9rTcI

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JO76dkzV28k

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=phFij-01hBk

Beans made artificially when placed next to kale then chop wood immersed in hoho juice or tomato seed in such factory basements as above dude or chop any bro even passion fruit next to kale heap but chop wood soaked on maize floor or maize it self or chop mango seed or melon seeds while with green grams do the same chop maize cob or coconut while with peas do likewise and chop ripe mango or fish bones and fish or cooked tomato bro with pixies do the same but chop planted grass or divide tortilla or break/divide black gravel or beans or black outer peeled fruits with knifes or hammer

#1901 Food cans like of fruit juice placed inside guava then chop wood soaked in juice of cooked kale or iced mango seed makes planes in sea

#shore or in factory hose slanting towards a clear big stream or river dude

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danfanciesphil · 5 years

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Some Kind Of Folliful (New Chapter)

Edgelord!Dan x ObliviousBisexual!Phil AU [CHAPTER ELEVEN] (based off the 80′s classic Some Kind of Wonderful)

Synopsis: Dan has one friend, and only because he was forced into it. Phil is loud, excitable, and irritatingly happy all of the time. Phil seems to find Dan’s perpetual attitude funny, and despite Dan’s best efforts to shun him and everyone else, wants to be around him all the time. That is, until Phil starts talking about Amanda Jones. Word Count: WIP (Estimated 12-15 chapters) updates every Tuesday Rating: Explicit Warnings: Smoking, swearing, heavy drinking, drug mentions, implied prostitution, broken home, class divide/classism, pining, light homophobia, sex

[Chapter One] [Chapter Two] [Chapter Three] [Chapter Four] [Chapter Five] [Chapter Six] [Chapter Seven] [Chapter Eight] [Chapter Nine] [Chapter Ten]

[Ao3!]

When Dan opens his eyes, Phil is still standing in front of him. He blinks, but those cobalt eyes don’t dissipate. The grinning Gengar on Phil’s hat remains exactly where it is, level with Dan’s eyes as Phil sinks down from his tiptoes. Dan’s lips are vibrating, his breaths are shallow. As he floats down from the astral plane, the noises and sights and smells outside of Phil and his melon conditioner and caramel flavoured lips re-emerge. There’s a great deal of elevated chatter from all sides of the room, which Dan slowly realises is probably about him. He hears someone laugh, then shout “woo, get it, guys”. Warmth spreads through his cheeks, down his neck.

“I…” Dan says; his voice is a husk of itself. He feels as if someone slipped something stronger than caffeine into the espresso he chucked down a while ago. “I should get back to work. My shift doesn’t end for another hour.”

Phil’s face falls. He’s looking at Dan like he’s worried he’s about to break into pieces. “Oh, okay.” He shifts from foot to foot. “Will you come over after? I’ll wait for you.”

“Um,” Dan says.

He glances around, room spinning into a blur of muted colours and half-familiar faces. It seems most of the coffee shop is watching them, their caffeinated blood and elevated heart rates pushing excitable, gossip-hungry expressions onto their faces. Dan takes a step backwards. The floor feels spongy beneath his feet. The air is viscous; breathing it is like swallowing lungfuls of warm water. Just as he’s starting to turn from Phil, to walk back towards the counter, back to something that makes sense, something solid and sure, Phil grabs his wrist. Dan can do nothing except stare at the spot where Phil’s skin meets his, utterly dazed.

“Hey, are you okay?” Phil asks, panicked. “I’m sorry I just went straight in there, that was probably really stupid. I’m just… trying to catch up with my feelings.” He frowns, shaking his head. “Or something.”

“Right.” Dan swallows. Phil’s fingers are tightly locked around his wrist, but it isn’t painful. It’s quite grounding. He lifts his eyes to meet Phil’s, heart speeding up. “This is a lot to process. Let’s talk after…” Dan flaps his hand to the general vicinity of the café.

“Yeah, okay,” Phil agrees. Neither of them move, too caught up in their unbroken stare. Tentatively, Phil’s thumb sweeps back and forth over the back of Dan’s hand. It’s been sore ever since he punched Hardy. It’s a sweet, simple gesture, one that melts Dan’s heart. He feels a slow, cautious smile creeping up. Before it can fully form, Phil releases him, cheeks softly pink. He shoves his hands into his back pockets. “I’ll just… go sit down then. Let me know when you’re ready to go.”

“Do you want a coffee?” Dan asks. He pauses, awkwardly flapping a hand in the air. “On me.”

“Yeah, okay,” Phil says, beaming. “The usual.”

As the streetlights splash warm, custard yellows over the two of them, Phil reaches out and takes Dan’s hand. Dan is so startled he almost trips, but Phil’s grip stabilises him.

“Seriously?” Dan asks, unable to hide the hiccup of laughter that escapes.

Phil is the picture of innocence. “What?”

“Shocking, I’m sure, but I’m not the… holding hands type.”

“You’ll cope.” Phil’s fingers slip between Dan’s, tightening considerably.

Dan thinks about protesting further, but considering it would more than likely be pointless, he doesn’t bother. This whole night has been so surreal, he can cope with this one further peculiarity. As they continue walking, Dan’s fingers start to curl around Phil’s of their own accord. He’s never held anyone’s hand before in this way; he never imagined it would feel this natural. Dan had been under the impression that couples only did the cutesy stuff to rub their romance in everyone’s faces, the way an Instagram model posts photos of a brunch they won’t be eating. Perhaps there's something to this PDA-lark, after all.

The café is a twenty minute walk from Phil’s; with each step, Dan is painfully aware of the unnatural silence bubbled around them. Usually, Phil’s chatter is constant, to the point where Dan rarely needs to interject. Now, he’s quiet, just letting their joined hands swing gently to and fro. Ten minutes pass this way, and Dan can’t take the slew of paranoid thoughts pounding in his mind a second longer.

“I need a cigarette,” he says, digging in his pocket. He finds the pack and draws it out, then pauses, looking pointedly down at Phil’s hand, clasped in his. “Uh..”

Phil is smiling, eyebrows raised, feigning ignorance. “Problem?”

Dan just rolls his eyes, then nudges the pack open with his nose, using his teeth to pluck one of the Djarums out. Phil watches in amusement as he struggles to tuck the pack away, then draw out a lighter and light the end, all with one hand. He manages, just, then shoots Phil a withering look.

“Come on, nerd,” Dan says, smoke streaming through his lips, then tugs on Phil’s hand, and they walk on.

When they step over Phil’s threshold, Mrs Lester’s foot is on the bottom stair, just heading up. She turns in surprise, a smile spreading over her tired face. Dan tries not to overthink it when Phil releases his hand at the sight of her, but without it, he feels wobbly, as if it was keeping him balanced.

“Oh, hello boys,” Mrs Lester says. “Did you have a nice-” She stops, gasping, and approaches Dan, hands outstretched. “Oh Dan, honey! Look at you!”

Her small hands cradle his face.

“Oh,” Dan says, remembering. “No, it’s nothing-”

“Phil told me you were in a bit of a tussle,” she says, tutting. Her fingers stroke lightly over the bruises. “I didn’t think it was this bad. You must be more careful with yourself.”

Her words don’t irritate him, surprisingly. Despite her mumsy tone, Dan knows it’s coming from a place of genuine love and concern. Something he forgets Phil’s mum is all too happy to bestow upon him, no questions asked.

“Yeah, I was dumb,” Dan readily admits. “Won’t be doing it again in a hurry.”

She tuts again, but removes her hands from his face, letting them fall to her sides. She turns to Phil. “Look after him, won’t you darling?”

“I will, Mum.”

Mrs Lester sighs, moving back towards the stairs. “I’m just off to bed then, loves. Are you hungry? There’s some dinner left in the fridge.”

Phil glances at Dan questioningly. He leans in close to whisper, “when was the last time you ate?”

Mind blanking, Dan shrugs. “Honestly don’t remember.”

“Thanks, mum,” Phil calls, already headed for the kitchen.

“Thank you, Mrs Lester,” Dan says. “Goodnight.”

“Kath, love,” she reminds him for the umpteenth time. “You’re welcome, of course. Night.”

Dan’s hunger had transcended physical sensation until the scent of Kath’s lasagne, heating up in the microwave, filled his nostrils. He eats the slice Phil hands him in seconds, leaning against one of the kitchen counters.

“This is amazing,” Dan says, licking the fork clean. “Your mum’s a genius.”

Phil laughs, still chewing. “You inhaled that.”

“Guess I was starving,” Dan says with a frown, trying to remember the last time he ate a hot meal.

He goes to the sink to wash his bowl, as he’s done countless times in Phil’s kitchen. Just as he’s placed it on the drying rack, he turns to find Phil has crowded up behind him, so close it makes Dan jump. Again, his fingertips tingle, and his heart leaps into his throat.

“Dan,” Phil half-whispers. He brushes Dan's cheek, lightly, just with his fingertips. “Could I…”

The end of the question is lost, because Dan closes the millimetres between their mouths. His mind still swims with questions, with confusion and doubt and anxiety about what this all means, but Phil is gorgeous, and he’s adorably unsure. If Dan could find the courage, which seems to have entirely abandoned him, he’d take Phil upstairs right now and greedily drink down this epiphany he's apparently had in every possible way he could. As it happens, Phil is the one to pull Dan towards the stairs. He abandons his half-eaten meal in favour of leading Dan up to his room, stopping every few seconds to kiss him again. Each press of his lips is preceded by a sweet, hesitant glance into Dan’s eyes, as if to check whether it’s still okay, whether Dan still wants it. His cute, completely redundant nervousness only makes him more difficult to resist.

Phil closes his bedroom door behind them, softly. Dan sits on his bed, watching as Phil draws the curtains, switches on his bedside lamp, turns off the overhead light. He sits beside Dan once he's run out of tasks, and winds their fingers together again. This time, Dan doesn’t complain. For a few endless moments, they just sit quietly, hands joined. This moment feels climactic somehow, as if they’re supposed to be in the throes of some great passionate exchange that’s been building in all the years they’ve known one another. But Dan, for perhaps the first time, doesn’t want to do anything else just yet. He wants to sit, and make sense of what’s happening, and for Phil to not let go of his hand while he sorts it all out.

He’s not certain, but he thinks Phil might feel very much the same.

“Do you want to watch Buffy?”

Dan lets out a breathy laugh. He nods. “Yeah, okay.”

Phil does let go then, but he gives Dan’s hand a squeeze, as if to say it won’t be forever. He gets out some pyjamas for them both, then switches on his TV, pretending to be busy sorting out the settings and wires while Dan gets changed. It takes a lot of willpower not to stare as Phil strips off right in front of him, in light of all that’s happened this evening, but Dan can’t help but feel it’s not quite the time. Phil joins him on the bed, and they turn their attention to the episode beginning, though Dan is quite sure that neither of them are able to focus on a single word. It’s so strange, to do something so familiar, something he’s done with Phil just like this, hundreds of times, and for it to feel totally alien. The negative part of Dan’s brain whispers cruel things to him.

Now that you’ve crossed the line of friendship, you can never go back.

He squashes the thought down as best he can, but it doesn’t entirely fade. A minute or so passes, and Phil finds his hand again. It’s soothing, and sweet, so Dan squeezes hard. Phil turns, concerned, and lifts his arm, places it around Dan’s shoulders, pulling him close.

As soon as Phil opens his eyes, he knows he is alone. The thought panics him instantly, and he sits bolt upright, not even noticing that his bedroom is still shrouded in darkness, or that his window is cracked open, letting a chill in. He blinks, reaching blindly for his glasses. His stomach lurches, and he curses at himself internally for being so impulsive, for acting so rashly, for scaring Dan off by unloading too much, too quickly. He’s already projecting to where he will start looking for Dan – his house, Ozone, the café – when a movement catches his eye. There’s a small orange glow in the corner by the window. Phil sucks in a breath, the unmistakeable scent of smoky cherry dancing in the frigid air. He freezes, then switches on his bedside light.

The soft, dim light is just enough to illuminate the shape of Dan, sat on the window ledge, smoking out of the open window. It takes a moment for Phil’s eyes to adjust to the sight of him. He’s wearing Phil’s black t-shirt, which is covered in tiny white ghosts. He’s so skinny at the moment that it hangs off him; he looks ethereal himself, like he’s only half here.

“Hey,” Phil says, quietly. “Are you okay?”

Dan turns at the sound of his voice. His expression is haunted. His fingers play with the pearl in his ear. “Couldn’t sleep. Sorry.”

Phil sits up properly, bleary from exhaustion. His stomach is knotted with nerves. “Come back to bed, I’ll stay up and chat with you for a while.”

Dan takes a long drag on his cigarette, then stubs it out, chucking the butt out of the window. “I can’t stop thinking…” Dan starts to say. Phil waits for him to complete the sentence, but he seems to think better of it.

“Tell me,” Phil urges. “Please. Is it too much? Did I overwhelm you?”

Dan swings his legs round, placing his feet on the desk beneath the ledge. He sits there, hands underneath his thighs, deliberating. “That painting you did. Of Amanda. I can’t stop thinking about it.” He pauses, eyes trained on Phil’s carpet. “It took you so long. All that time and energy. I just don’t understand why you would do it if… if you didn’t actually feel that way about her.”

Phil nods, voice fluttery with nerves. “I get why you’d think that.”

Dan’s eyes are distant when he lifts them. “You told me, at the café, that you were just… projecting your feelings for me onto her, right?”

There’s a lump in Dan’s throat, strangling his words, though he’s trying his best to hide it.

Phil nods again. “Right.”

“But if that’s true,” Dan shakes his head. “Wouldn’t it be me you’d painted sky high on a big canvas? It just doesn’t make sense-”

“Can I show you something?” Phil interrupts.

He’s already throwing the covers off himself, feet landing on the soft carpet. He goes to his desk, plucks a sketchbook at random from the dozens stacked about. He hands it to Dan, who takes it wordlessly.

“What’s-”

“Just look inside,” Phil tells him.

He crosses back to sink onto the bed, waiting. He's bone-tired, still - it must be 3am, or thereabouts - but he can feel the importance of this. Dan opens the sketchbook cautiously, clearly puzzled. As he takes in what’s inside, his expression melts into surprise, then awe. The corner of Phil’s mouth twitches. He can feel his cheeks pinkening as Dan turns page after page, but it’s worth it.

“How- when did you-”

“I painted one picture of Amanda, and honestly I hated every second,” Phil says, sincerely. “I was trying to get it so perfect, because I felt like it needed to be this… accurate portrait of her, y’know? I don’t paint like that normally. Usually I find something, or someone, to inspire me, and I just let myself run with it.”

“There are so many,” Dan breathes, wide-eyed.

Phil can’t help laughing then. When Dan shoots him a questioning look, he only laughs harder. “Check one of the others. There’s a few stacked on the desk there. Some in the drawers. I’ve got some more in my bag. Couple in the studio, too.”

For a moment, Dan is still. Then, he leans down to pluck another sketchbook from a pile on the desk. He opens it at a random page, balks at the contents, then promptly closes it again. He leans down for a second time, grabbing three more sketchbooks. He looks in each one, flicking through the worn pages like it’s a flipbook.

As he watches Dan, Phil starts to grow uneasy. It occurs to him that perhaps this seems a tad obsessive. Then Dan drops the books to the desk, the sound of them hitting the wood with a thud. He grips the ledge for a second, knuckles white, staring down at the ground. Phil’s breathing quickens, suddenly nervous of Dan’s reaction. Dan clambers down from the ledge one careful foot at a time, crouching on the desk, then sliding to the floor. He crosses the room to Phil, still sat on the bed, and stands before him. His fingers are shaking, Phil notices.

“Phil… what- why would you…” he trails off.

Phil swallows, not sure how to explain without weirding Dan out more. “You’re my muse, Dan. I squeezed out one painting of Amanda that I don’t even like. One that doesn’t represent me at all. I can’t even count the times I’ve drawn you.”

Dan’s lips disappear as he presses them together. “The way you draw me. You make me look…”

“Beautiful,” Phil finishes for him. “Because you are. Every time I look, I see new colours in your eyes. I see you smile in a different way. It’s so inspiring, just watching you, just having you in front of me. I’ve filled so many sketchbooks with you, but I could fill a thousand more, just trying to capture your- your...” Phil flaps a hand in the air, losing the word. “Essence.”

Dan slides a knee onto the bed at Phil’s hip, then brings his other up on the other side, seating himself in Phil’s lap. Phil might have stopped breathing, but he’s too shocked to check. Dan is the kind of severe, electrifying beauty that is almost frightening to behold. The sort of exotic flower you should observe from a safe distance, but never touch, lest it poison you with one prick of its thorns. To have him this close is maddening; his eyes are almost black in the low light, and filled with intensity. He radiates warmth, like a dark, burning star. He smells like sharp, sour cherry, and Phil knows he tastes even better. He wants to slide his hands up Dan’s sides, under the loose ghost t-shirt. He wants to draw Dan towards him, to suck another hickey into his pale skin, to kiss the grey, angry bruises on his face.

Dan’s fingers rake through Phil’s hair. He leans down, pushing their lips together; Phil can feel him tremble. “I don’t deserve you,” he whispers in the non-existent space between their mouths.

Hesitantly, Phil lets his hands float to Dan’s sides. He stays on top of the t-shirt though, for now. He wants to get this right; this moment is weighty with the importance of something new and filled with potential. With every sentence he utters to reassure Dan of his feelings, Phil beats another of the demons Dan carries on his bony shoulders back into the shadows. But even now he can feel them watching suspiciously, waiting for a sign that Phil might fuck this all up, so they can spring back to their former positions.

Phil matches that dark, unwavering gaze and doesn’t let himself so much as blink. “You deserve so much more than you believe, Dan.”

Dan kisses him again, and this time Phil tastes salt water, like a thin film between their lips. He winds his arms around Dan’s waist, holding tightly. They kiss for what seems like hours; Dan falls forwards, pushing Phil to the bed, making it too easy to just lose themselves in the taste, the touch of each other. Phil is too afraid to do more than just stroke lightly over Dan’s waist, his arms, his face. Dan too, seems to feel this is more than enough, and keeps his hands in Phil’s hair, then winds them around his neck. Eventually, Phil is not sure when, but they must slow, and then stop. He drifts on the periphery of sleep, fingers trailing across warm skin, the duvet keeping the cold wind from the open window at bay.

“I love you too, by the way,” Dan says into the silence, though perhaps Phil is already dreaming. “I don’t think I said it, before.”

“Hm,” Phil replies. His smile is warm, treacly across his mouth. “That’s good.”

“I might not… say it very much,” Dan warns him, and Phil just smiles wider. “I’m gonna say right off the bat that I doubt I’ll be very good at... all that. But I do, I promise.”

“Do what?” Phil is almost asleep, sure, but he’s still got enough energy to tease Dan a little.

Dan swats him in the arm. “Fuck off, once was hard enough.”

Phil prods him in the ribs. “Dan, what do you promise?”

Dan sighs. There’s a silence, and Phil wonders if maybe he won’t be able to summon the courage to utter it a second time, if maybe he’s fallen asleep. Then, there’s the light graze of cherry scented lips by his ear, and the silky warm rush of Dan’s breath as he whispers: “I love you, nerd.”

(Chapter Twelve coming next Tuesday at 8pm GMT!)

#phan #phanfic #skof #some kind of folliful

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