excuse my typo

Okay so I’ve seen a lot of fanart and fics where aged up Lance has scars on his skin, and man do I dig that aesthetic, but what if it’s the opposite? What if healing pods not only repair injuries to the point where there’s no scarring, but they also repair old damage? Like, say, regenerating tissues and cells to the point where the whole body is like brand new.

The scar that Lance’s sister gave him when he was four? Gone. The old burn he had when he was twelve and touched the stove? Like it was never there in the first place. And siblings fight, and Lance has a lot of siblings, so he’s bound to have many “battle” scars, but they’re wiped away, one by one  — like they were never there, like his past with his family never happened.

So maybe at some point, when he only has so many scars left, Lance starts fearing taking an injury, not because of pain and blood, but because that means another trip to a healing pod. Another mark of his past, proof that he really is a boy from Cuba, washed away like ocean foam. Maybe at some point, even if the injury is severe enough to warrant a visit to the pods, but not quite severe enough that it’d keep Lance from piloting Blue, he denies Coran when he suggests he visit the infirmary. Maybe he wants to heal naturally, welcoming new scars to join the old ones.

Maybe he learns to accept it, maybe he doesn’t. Maybe the birthmark on his hip is one day wiped away, replaced by unblemished tanned skin, and maybe Lance stays up till two crying because there’s so little left of who he used to be. What’s left of him that hasn’t been stomped on by parades of war and sullied with blood, tears and duty?

And maybe, when years have passed and the universe is finally well off that they can return home for a few vargas, maybe… Maybe Lance still looks the same.

Maybe all his visits to the healing pods; being exposed to their magic and quintessence has regenerated him to the point where he still looks exactly the same as he did when they snuck out of the Garrison that one oh so fateful night. Maybe it’s been two years, maybe it’s been ten, but the Paladins all look the same, to the dot, like they’re untouched by time. But Lance’s family doesn’t. His little sister, who used to only reach Lance’s hip, all pigtails and freckles, maybe she’s now tall enough to reach his chest and better at math than Lance will ever be. Maybe she has new scars Lance has never seen or kissed away.

Maybe his mom has worry lines and grey hairs Lance knows she didn’t have when he last saw her, and maybe she talks less than he remembers. Maybe she has to pinch herself when she first sees her son after however many years, because he hasn’t changed a bit. Maybe she breaks into tears at the sight of him, and her hug is just as warm and three times as tight as Lance remembers.

Maybe his siblings give him a new scar to cherish before there’s another planet, another crisis that needs Voltron.


“I do trust you. But when this is all over, whatever it is you’re doing, you and I are going to open up a bottle of bourbon and have a long, long talk.“
“You think I’m sticking around after this, then?”
“Stick around. We get in the truck, go for a drive. See where we land.”
“Sounds so normal.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“What about my work?”
“Thank you, Peter. For everything.” 

Helpful Hand

Originally posted by twofronteeth

A short piece about insecure and stuttery Harry as his best friend Y/N takes his virginity

When anyone thinks of Harry Styles, they think of someone confident. Someone who doesn’t care about the thoughts of others, who goes through his day with his chin up and waiting for his ego to be stroked. He knew he was good looking, he knew girls were begging to be on their knees for him, of course it got him a bit of a big head knowing million of people were willing to do anything for him.

One thing Harry will stray away from is his sex life though. And only Y/N knows the real reason why.

Y/N and Harry have been inseparable since their mutual friends groups combined. Y/N thought his unusual flair of fashion choice and dimples she could just drown in, were the main reasons on why she was pulled into him. Harry thought her gleaming eyes and sarcastic attitude towards life were the main reasons on why he was pulled into her. But little do they both know, every since day 1, they’ve unknowingly fallen for each other. Everyone in their friend group knew about them two, the way Harry’s lips quirk upnin a certain way when Y/N starts talking, or the way Y/N’s eye noticeably show a bit of adoration as he would talk. The slow drawl of his voice and the pout on his lips would make Y/N lose herself in his voice, getting nudged each time by a different friends and letting her cheeks flair up in red. Harry wasn’t far different though. He always seems to make sure she knows he’s watching her, the soft intensity of the way his eyes stared back into hers. Every time she would catch his eye, he would shyly drop his head down into his lap, biting back a smile. No one understood why they wouldn’t just get together, they should’ve gotten together months ago according to their friend group, yet both of them were too oblivious to understand they liked each other.

It wasn’t until one day that Harry decided to bite the dust and let his guard down for the night.

His heart was pounding in his chest. Would he be able to do it? Or will he chicken out like he has for the last 10 times. Y/N is his best friend. There’s no problem asking a friend for a favor.

Tonight was Harry and Y/N’s annual movie night. After he had finished one of his shows, Harry wanted nothing but to hang out with his best friend, eating junk food and watching every movie ranging from chick flicks to comedy. It had become a very common occurance between the two. Sitting on the hotel bed, they both were stuffing their mouths popcorn. He put on a more romantic comedy that they had already watched before. But Y/N knew somethig was on his mind. He would usually end up repeating the lines in Y/N’s ear as the movie played on making her push him away playfully laughing. But this whole time he was on his phone not even playing attention to the movie.

“Alright spill it.” Y/N turned to face him sitting cross legged.

He looked over picked at his bottom lip with his thumb and index finger making it a dead giveaway to Y/N that something was up. Harry shook his head insisting it was fine. But she wasn’t about to take no for an answer.

“C'mon H, it can’t be that bad!” She pleaded pouting, looking at him with puppy eyes.

“No! I… it’s embarrassing.” He grumbles crossing his arms looking down.

“We’re best friends! Anything you say won’t be embarrassing I promise you…” Y/N put my hand up in a promise

Harry groaned out turning to face her, covering his face with his hands.


“Harry I can’t hear you when you talk with your hands over your face.” He takes a deep breath scrunching his nose at himself before uttering those 7 words.

“I want you to take my virginity.”

Y/N nearly chokes on her drink, coughing as Harry frowned rubbing her back. He wants her?

He wants her to take his virginity?

“S-sorry.. I-I shouldn’t ‘ave said tha’ jus’ forgot I said anything.” Harry mumbled out quickly, stuttering nervously as he turned to watch the movie twisting his rings around his fingers.

Y/N shook her head deciding to boldly crawl over straddling his lap blocking his view of the TV. Harry nervously looked everywhere but her. She grabbed his face in her hands. gingerly pressing her lips against his to get a feel of how experienced he was.

Wow, Y/N thought to herself, he’s amazing.

Their lips moved in sync, not using tongue yet. He left his hands clenched into fists by his sides making het grab them and wrap them around her waist. She tilted her head to sneak her tongue into his mouth, letting a small whimper escape his mouth. That is probably one of the hottest sounds she had ever heard.

Fuck Y/N stop, this is all for Harry not you.

She could feel his heart pounding in his chest where her hand laid as his tongue hesitantly moved with hers. She pulled her lips away reluctantly letting her lips drag across the stubble of his jaw line, laying open mouthed kisses as she went down his jugular. Breathy moans escaped his mouth as he clenched the duvet by his sides. Y/N sucked the spot under his ear letting her teeth nip the skin lightly making a strangled moan erupt from his throat. She smiled against his skin as she pulled back, unzipping his hoodie showing he wasn’t wearing a shirt underneath.

If Y/N wasn’t passed out yet she sure would be right now.

He nervously slipped it from his shoulders chewing his lip looking down. He’d always been self conscious of his body, especially that pesky part of his hips where he just couldn’t get rid of his love handles. But Y/N just adored the piece of skin that would peak out from the waistband of his boxers. She tilted his chin up making his wide, green innocent eyes stare into hers

“You’re doing amazing so far.. don’t be nervous, if you want me to stop just say it and I’ll stop okay?” Y/N murmured softly as he nodded.

“I-I want you to do it 100%..” Harry mumbleed shyly biting his lip.

She smiles giggling softly standing up from his lap slowly unbuttoning his jeans letting him slip them off his long lanky legs. He mumbles multiple apologises as he struggles to get them off making Y/N stifle her laughter, (with a whining Harry telling her to “quit it” in a mock scolding tone) helping him take them off, muttering thankfully. He was obviously hard from the look of his boxers confining him. She knelt between his legs as he looks down at her with his bottom lip between his teeth.

Kissing his inner thighs nipping at the milky skin letting whimpers slip out of his mouth as he pursed his lips to stay quiet. Y/N couldn’t help herself to move her mouth up to kiss over his tummy, moving her mouth to sink her teeth lightly into his pushing hips making Harry let out a yelp mixed with a giggle. She lowly slipped off his boxers seeing his erection spring up. Y/N bites her lip seeing how thick he was seeing a bead of pre cum leak out of the head. She couldn’t stop staring at his cock licking over her lips eagerly as she glancing up at him. He blushed heavily looking away.

“Don’ look at it like tha’!” Harry whines quickly and quietly biting the corner of his making her let out a string of giggles as he pouted out his lips.

Y/N shook her head smiling reassuringly at him as she gripped his base softly letting her tongue drag up from the base to the head. Harry lets out a shaky, loud moan slapping his hand over his mouth. She gave him a few teasing licks to the tip, letting her tongue taste a bit of the pre-cum that had dribbled out before slowly enveloping the tip into her mouth. Harry’s moans echo through the room despite being muffled by his hand. She moved her mouth slowly up and down letting her hand pump what she couldn’t fit into her mouth. He finally moved his hand to move her hair out of her face looking down at Y/N with scrunched eyebrows breathing heavily. As she moved her head faster, she could tell Harry was gonnn cum for her soon.

She pulled back just slightly moving her hand lazily up and down his shaft. “I want it H… c’mon… just for me… know you can do it…” Y/N cooed our lying open mouthed kisses down the side of his cock.

He couldn’t control his moans anymore once she moved her hand and held her breath, pushing the rest of him into her mouth letting the tip hit the back of her throat, breathing slowly through her nose. Harry let out a loud groan tugging her hair softly, throwing his head back as he came in her mouth.

“Oh my god petal yes…. yes yes yes… ah!” She milked him through his orgasm pulling back licking over her lips wiping over her mouth with the pad of her thumb.

“Tha’ was the best blowie ‘ve had in my life…. ” Harry said breathlessly in shock looking at her with blown out eyes. She smiled laughing oug softly feeling her own cheeks heat up.

She stands back up tossing her sleepwear off along with her panties as Harry stared at Y/N with huge eyes swallowing heavily. She pushed him gently back on the back so his head was resting on the pillows. Y/N crawled over sitting back of his thighs gently tracing some shapes on his lower abdomen as he looked at her with lustful eyes, and a mix of something else. She reaches into the nightstand and grab a condom, opening it with her teeth slipping it over his length making his cheek flush again whimpering. She grabs ahold of his length once again pushing her slightly on her knees slowly sinking down on him.

“O-oh fuck me…” He drags out as she slowly sunk down, digging her teeth into her bottom lip. She settled down completely letting herself adjust to Harry’s size. He breathed heavily and looked up and her with flushed cheeks. Y/N was utterly screwed seeing the way he looked up at her. She leaned down holding the back of his neck slotting their lips together as she slowly rolled her hips into his. Harry let out a low moan vibrating against her lips and letting it sink low in her chest, pulling back moving his calloused hands to grip her hips. Harry was slowly helping her roll her hips into his, letting his eyes droop, eyelashes fluttering against the tops of his cheeks. She bit her lip moving herself up and down on him slowly as he gripped her hips tighter pursing his lips tightly to not let his moans come out.

“Y-Y/N” Harry whimpered digging his head further into the pillows squeezing his eyes shut. She leaned down nipping at the skin where both his swallows lied on his chest as he cried out releasing into the comdom. He lied there with his swollen lips parted letting breathlessly moans escape his mouth as she slipped off him. She takes the condom off slowly and ties it off before throwing it in the waste bin.

“W-wait! You….. you didn’t cum did you…” Harry looks up at her gnawing on his lower lip. Y/N shook her head smiling reassuringly grabbing his hand.

“Hey no no no… you don’t worry about it… tonight was about you… I’m okay H..” Harry pouted flopping his head back on the pillow.

“Tha’ doesn’t mean I can’t do anything to you. Guide me through it…” Y/N slightly felt her heart pound at the thought of his head between her legs. She shut her eyes quickly shaking her head.

“I promise I’ll let you do it one day… but it’s time to sleep anyways… today was about you… not me.” Harry reluctantly huffed out pouting out as he watched Y/N slip back on her panties pulling his hoodie over her head as he put on his boxers. Harry looked over at her with warm cheeks smiling sleepily.

“Thanks…. fo’ doin’ this fo’ me love… ” He whispers the keep his eyes on Y/N making her smile warmly reaching over to rub her thumb over her cheek.

There was something different between them two now, they weren’t sure if it was good or bad, but they would definitely do it again.


When Y/N woke up the next morning with a head nestled between her thighs, hands holding her thighs open over his shoulders and tongue licking into her desperately, she was shocked nonetheless. When she saw his eyes puffy with sleep but gleaming with childish delight as he looked up at her, she knew she was in trouble.

After seeing him between her thighs, she wouldn’t want any other man in his place.

Of tender & imprudent touches

[Read on ao3 if you like]

Sherlock always hated having his hair ruffled or having someone play with his curls, having someone run his fingers through the soft strands he’s spent hours taming in front of the mirror. 

Even when he was a still child, he always dreaded people’s hands on his head because they never knew how sensitive he was, how badly it hurt when their fingertips grazed over his scalp too firmly, when the pressure was too much to bear with the engine of a brain inside his skull that simply never shut off, rattling and steaming, roaring and raging. 

Before he and John are truly a thing, and yet having moved past the stage of ‘we’re just best friends’, his touches are frequent; on his shoulder when Sherlock’s head is buried in the newspaper during breakfast and John walks around the table to get a refill of his coffee, on his wrist during a cab ride in which none of them says anything and they only exchange silent but all-knowing glances as their lips curl upwards, on his ankle when Sherlock’s feet rest in John’s lap when they watch the evening news or a film that Sherlock half-watches, half-predicts. Sherlock is content with how things are progressing, evolving between them, slowly but steadily.

One night, he’s on the verge of falling asleep on the sofa, but still awake enough to feel a blanket being laid over him, wrapped around him, so he doesn’t get cold. A pair of warm lips brushes over his forehead before he hears the receding sound of two feet clad in woollen socks. 

It’s a few nights later that Sherlock dares to rest his head instead of his feet in John’s lap. John looks surprised at first, but then he smiles as one of his hands finds its place on Sherlock’s shoulder. They’re watching the latest bond movie that John has on DVD, and Sherlock is unexpectedly quiet. John’s body is warm, and his fingers draw soothing circles on Sherlock’s shoulder blade. As the movie continues, John’s fingers begin their journey. They swirl around a few curls on the back of Sherlock’s neck, and although Sherlock freezes a little and goes rigid involuntarily, in fear it might be too much, but he starts to enjoy it after a while. John notices, of course he does, and quietly asks, “this all right?” He’s the first to ever ask him this question before touching him.

Sherlock wants to nod, but his head feels heavy and comfortable, so he hums “mhm,” instead. It’s only his nape he focuses on, but it’s enough for now. It’s just right.

And so John keeps going, and he grows to love it. He enjoys it so much it becomes a regular occurrence. At least when they’re in private; when nobody sees. During movie nights, or crap-telly nights or quiet nights in front of the fire. He progresses slowly, always starting in the back of his neck, sometimes that’s all he touches, but as time passes, he ventures further, running his hand through the curly, messy mop on Sherlock’s head. And God, the first time he does it, Sherlock’s entire body is covered in goosebumps. He shivers and can’t help but let out a muffled gasp. John’s hand retreats then, pulling back enough as to not overwhelm him, but never completely, never all at once. 

One night, they come back home from an exhausting case that has lasted for over a week. And this time, it’s not adrenaline they feel from having solved it, no, there’s none of that, as rare as it may be, but this time, they’re both drained, fatigued, and knackered. Sherlock hasn’t slept in days, and when he did, his brain wouldn’t shut off properly; John’s only taken power-naps, which have lost its power-giving function on day three. Sherlock is so worked up, adrenaline and weariness fighting for the upper hand inside him, he lets his coat and jacket fall over the backrest of his armchair and sits down, groaning in frustration. His fingers dig hard into his curls, pulling, pressing against his scalp, almost tearing, to make it stop, to just make it quiet. But it won’t, the engine simply rattles on, puffing and blowing and–

releasing steam when …

two hands reach for his own, unclench his fists and remove his hands from the raging machine inside him. “Come on,” John whispers almost inaudibly, pulling him to his feet. “Into bed with you.”


“I know,” is all John says as he guides him down the corridor, into Sherlock’s bedroom. The room is dark except for the light shining through the window from the street lamps. 

Sherlock stands there, frozen on the spot. He can hear John exhale quietly and see the tired smile on his lips, and then there are fingers on the buttons of his shirt, pushing each one through its hole. John makes quick work of it; there is nothing suggestive about it as it should be, considering he is undressing him for the first time since … well, this started. But they’re both too tired to think too hard about it or to care, and then Sherlock’s shirt is gone, and he steps out of his trousers and leaves his socks on the floor, and is led to his bed. He doesn’t know how he managed to tell John “Stay,” but somehow he does, and John’s smile widens despite the weight that pulls his lids down and makes his eyes seem so small. 

“I’ll be right there,” he tells Sherlock whose fingers cling to the sleeve of John’s jumper that now slips through them like sand. Then he disappears in the dark hall. Sherlock hears the door of their cupboard closing and the tap running,  then there are steps growing louder, and then John is back, handing him a glass of water. “Drink,” he says quietly, and Sherlock does without hesitation. Before he finishes, John has already stripped down to his vest and pants and is now sliding into bed behind him. It feels exciting and new, making his chest tingle and his heart beat faster. John takes the glass from him once he emptied it and sets it down on the bedside table. Sherlock turns towards him, resting his head on John’s shoulder, feeling how an arm winds around him protectively and pulls him closer. One hand lies on his waist, but the other disappears in his hair and stays there, motionless at first, and when John feels it’s all right to move, he does so slowly and gently and tenderly. 

Sherlock already expects the worst, waiting for the explosion to set off, but nothing of the sort happens. Instead, the buzzing quietens down, the rattling slowly comes to a halt. He dares to take a deep breath. The machine stays silent and still. John has found the off-switch. 

“‘nk you,” he mumbles wearily against John’s chest. 

“No need,” John whispers, and then, “Sleep well, love.” 

If Sherlock weren’t so tired, he’d properly process what John has just said, but instead, he succumbs and is dragged into the peaceful darkness his body has been craving for days, ineffably grateful that the touch of the person who matters the most doesn’t feel excruciating and agonising but soothing, comforting and breathtakingly pleasant. 

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Ecdysis of innocence: we lie in the sun, praying for a semblance or warmth--

The world is turning our skin

into scales.

The scales are a disappointment.

                       When I traded my innocence for understanding,

            I thought the serpent in me offered

                   more than knowledge and nakedness. 

I am shedding an old version of myself

                   every five months, but never seem to change.

There are shells that once looked like me 

          buried in my hometown.

When the older reptiles

told us that we looked

better under neon lust,

we believed them enough

                    to prove their cold blood. 

hey!! so a lot of you were asking about the day and night universe and how stuff works there and i tried to think of something less half-assed and seriously thought this through. and i would like to warn you if you were expecting some kind of science related explanation or something cries i deeply apologize

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gazebros  asked:

could you write some modern!stozier going to disney world??

—stozier + disney world (modern au) ♡
-richie had jokingly proposed the idea of them going to disney world while him and stanley first started dating. (so when they were sophomores)
-they started saving up for the trip the summer before their senior year.
-richie had gotten a job at frozen yogurt shop near the school
-stanley got a job at a barnes & noble. he actually loved his job since he got free books & coffee and mike also worked there.
-they both saved up roughly two grand each to pay for gas, food, & the actual trip.
-two days after their high school graduation, they left for disney world.
-stanley insisted that they got there by car so they could have a “good ol’ fashioned road trip.”
-the trip from maine to florida would take twenty five hours
-they took turns driving.
-it took them two days to get there because they both got so tired neither of them could drive.
-they parked in a walmart parking lot and virginia and slept for six hours before they got kicked out of the parking lot by the store manager.
-whoever wasn’t driving got the aux cord.
-richie would play the cheesiest love songs and sing along just to annoy stanley
-“richie you know you can’t sing” “shut up you know you love me”
-they actually filmed one of their own carpool karaoke videos.
-whenever richie wasn’t driving, he would document the trip on his snapchat story.
-“what’s up sluts, we’re going to disney world”
“richie, what the hell you can’t just call people sluts”
-when they got to disney world, stanley nearly passed out because “it didn’t feel real”
-they rode every single roller coaster twice.
-as ironic as it is, richie’s terrified of roller coasters
-“if i die on this ride, i love you stanley” “i love you too, asshole”
-they took so many photos of them kissing it was unreal
-peter pan was stanley’s childhood hero so he made it his mission to meet him
-he cried after he did.
-on the other hand, it was richie’s life goal to meet snow white.
-she gave him a kiss on the cheek and he gasped
-“snow white better not be your side hoe or i’m gonna have to throw hands”
-they were just two boys in love, having the time of their lives.


In 2016, I got together with a bunch of other rad Zayn artists for a fun project entitled REAL. We created a fully-illustrated book celebrating the first year of Zayn’s career, each of us reimagining one of his magazine covers, and writing a short essay based on one adjective we chose for him. I’m excited to finally get to share with you my contribution!

Zayn received a copy of our book earlier this year. To read the full book, you can check out the Instagram page of @zaynreport , who, along with @zquadville, were the organizers of this project.

I have a theory..

A while back, during book 3, I came up with a theory, but since it was still pretty early into the Freshman/Sophomore series, it just looked like a coincidence I think not, but now that we’ve got 5 books, I’m starting to notice a pattern, and I can’t be the only one.

On the cover of book 1, we have Chris and MC. On the cover of book 2, we have MC by herself. On the cover of book 3, we have Kaitlyn and MC. Book 4 doesn’t matter right now cuz it was just an interlude. On the cover of book 5, we have Zig and MC.

I don’t think anyone has forgotten the cringeworthy “dispute” between Chris, Becca and our MC. Putting everything aside, we all know Chris is the one MC had the most trouble with in book 1.

Initially, I thought James was on the cover of book 2, why? idk, may have had something to do with that Christmas special. And since I thought it was James on the cover of book 2, I also thought James was the one MC had the most trouble with. My MC was dating James so therefor his storyline was more present and interesting to me lmao. But I still clearly remember MC getting blamed by Kaitlyn for outing herself. Tbh I don’t quite remember why Chris and MC were fighting but it happened.

I’m sure we can all still remember the fights with Kaitlyn and her band in book 3. Like I don’t even need to explain this one, do I?

Like I mentioned above, book 4 doesn’t really matter, as it was just an interlude.

Now, book 5, there Zig and MC. Every time a LI was featured on the cover, MC’s relationship/friendship was tested to the point of breaking and to the point of me hating them but I digress. Taking everything said above into consideration, I fear for whatever is coming for Zig and MC.

[ @the-mic-drop this might not be what you had in mind, but I hope it’s satisfactory. also, I thank @nervmaid for this. ]

A rather sudden bang distracts Roadhog from his novel.

Dog-earing the page, he sets the worn book down on his belly and sighs through his mask. Two years of playing bodyguard has granted him enough experience to distinguish one bang from another. Explosions, while outside the norm for the everyday citizen, have a surprising array of sounds that Roadhog has become well acquainted with. If anyone cared to ask, he’s sure he could name every type of explosive he’s heard. In fact, it has come to the point where he could give a rough estimate on how much damage a bomb might inflict from its noise alone, and he supposes that might be an impressive feat if he weren’t so invested in making sure the creator of said bomb remains in one piece.

Fortunately for him (and his boss, he must concede), the bang does not belong to any sort of explosive.

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anonymous asked:

34 with Chris? You're a great writer!

thank you! sorry for the delay x


34. “Do you know how hard I’m trying not to kiss you right now?”

You and Chris had been friends for a while, but your friendship quickly switched from just talking about classes to flirting. You two were always constantly flirting in the hallways, which had led up to many people including your closest friends to think that you two were dating. The thing was that you weren’t, even though you wished you were.

It had started out as a little joke between you and Chris, but as time went on you realized that you were in fact falling for him. You were ashamed to admit it but you liked having his attention. You liked when he flirted with you, you always felt like you had butterflies in your stomach when talking to him. There was no denying that he was unbelievably hot and his personality was great. Underneath that ’bad boy who constantly hooks up with girls’ act was a sweet guy who just wanted to hang out with friends.

Chris didn’t seem to notice how nervous you’d get around him or how you’d start blushing when he came closer. You were pretty sure he was either blind or really dumb. It was hard for you to see him with other girls, which you felt really bad for since he wasn’t yours and your jealousy was ridiculous, but gosh did you wish that you could be one of those girls.

You had done everything humanly possible to stop you from falling for him, constantly telling yourself it was a little crush and it’ll pass sooner or later. You had given it time, only to notice your feelings had grown stronger. It was all so frustrating to you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him or stop talking to him.

That was how you had ended up at his place, sitting on the couch watching a movie. It was one of those little things you always did together, trashing on a movie and eating popcorn until early hours of the morning.

Chris had the privilege to pick the movie this time, since last time you had decided. It took him a good ten minutes to pick, but when he was done he sat next to you flashing a little smile making your heart skip a beat.

The movie wasn’t really your thing and you had a hard time to concentrate on it when all you could do was stare at Chris, watch his expression change as the movie went on. Your gaze was quickly fixated on his lips, which by the way looked extra soft and plump today.

You shook your head as you tried to get your head clear, turning your attention back to the television only to lose interest once again. All you could think of was how his lips would feel against yours.

“Do you know how hard I’m trying not to kiss you right now?” you blurted out. This immediately caught Chris’ attention, his eyes drilling into yours. He looked confused and slightly shocked.

You felt sick in your stomach. This is it, this is how your friendship with him ended. You felt stupid.

”Wait, fuck, I didn’t mean it like that I just-” you were in the middle of your rushed explanation, when a soft pair of lips interrupted you. You relaxed a bit, shyly kissing back before you pulled away.

”What just happened?” You asked, your eyes wide.
”I like you so just shut up for a moment.” Chris said before once again kissing you. This time you felt a lot more relaxed, your lips molding together perfectly. The feeling of butterflies in your stomach had disappeared, now the only thing you could feel was happiness.

My brain seems to have decided that recovery from thinking too hard would be best done by thinking some more. The most I can do is listen to exhausted thoughts and force myself to sleep, hoping that I will wake up to a more functional process. But then, if I stopped thinking, I would be gravely worried for myself and painfully bored. And so I have accepted my fate as a thinker.