Meeting

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Lucas' PoV


I was walking through my school, when I bumped into a boy. This bump was so hard that we both dropped our books on the floor. I blushed and covered my face a little. Great, my first day at school, and I'm already fucking up.

I try to hide my face as much as possible. I don't want him to see me, especially since I'm blushing. I go to pick up my books, and after I finish, I turn to him to say I'm sorry. But as soon as I see his face, I blush even harder.

He looks...cute? He's a boy in a red baseball cap, with black hair. I didn't know i could feel this way around another boy. Wait, am I...gay?

"Sorry about that," the boy says and he smiles a little at me causing me to blush even harder.

"Y-Yeah...s-sorry...i-it's my fault," stupid stutter always coming out at the worst time.

"No no, it's my fault. I was on my phone..." he says in his nice voice. He notices I'm having trouble holding by books, so he moves in to help me. 

"I-I've got it," stupid stutter always fricking crap up. 

"No, I can help," he says, as he helps me stabilize my books. As he gets closer to me, I get a whiff of him. He smells like sweat and sports. And why do I like it?

"Sorry...I must smell bad," he says, and he's wrong

"N-No...it's-s fine..." I say, with my fricking stutter. God, wish I could stop stuttering. Especially since I fell...weird around this boy.

"Alright, well, see you soon," he says as he smiles and walks away. Damn, I wish I said something to him. He looks like he'd be fun to be around.

"Oh, and my names Ness," he says as he turns around. Quick, I should tell him my name.

"I-I'm Lucas," YES! I got my name in without a stutter. Ness smiles.

"See ya around Lucas," he does finger guns, causing me to smile.

I walk away, happy that I might have made a new friend



Cool Earth bound art #2!!!

Cool Earth bound art #2!!!

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Y̴o̸u̴ ̷a̴r̸e̶ ̸v̵e̷r̴y̶ ̴s̶t̵r̵o̷n̸g̷


H̷͍̬̓͌o̵͚͔͓̿w̵̳̙̭̜̓̾̍ ̴͚̙̩̓c̸͙̣̋̀̃͝ą̶͉̰͗͘n̷̬̭̏͗̽ ̴̟̳̹̋̊I̴̛̮̮͕͙̔͝͝ ̷͎̖̟̜͊͝ĥ̴͈͠ë̴͓͇́a̶͍͌̽̉͐r̵̢͓̭̱͆̎ ̷̺́̎͠y̶̙̥̣͚͛̅o̶̧͕̘̲̓u̸͉͖̘͒́̀͘ͅ?̶̙̖̆̉̓


H̷e̶'̵s̶ ̶c̵o̴n̷t̶r̶o̷l̴l̶i̴n̶g̴ ̷y̸o̵u̶,̴ ̸t̵h̵o̸u̴g̷h̴ ̵w̸h̷e̶n̶ ̷t̸h̴e̸ ̶t̵i̴m̶e̵ ̸c̷o̴m̸e̶s̴,̷ ̸y̷o̷u̷'̴l̷l̵ ̷b̷e̸ ̷a̴b̴l̴e̶ ̸t̸o̷ ̵t̶a̴k̷e̴ ̷o̷v̵e̸r̵


W̷͎̩̉̽h̷̰̦̠̃͑͝â̵̡̛̇t̶͖̫̋̍ ̸̜͒̓̿͗d̴̦̺̱̅̂̔͠ő̴̞̺ ̵̰͍͈͂́̂̎ý̶͇̳ơ̵̡̮̋̈͜u̶̬͑̾͑̈́ ̸̡̽̓̄́m̷̠̘͎̌͝͠ẻ̷̪͇͎̭͠͠a̴̬̝̬̳̓-̵̢̣̻͈̿̈̍͛


S̶h̵h̸h̴h̷h̷h̷h̵h̴.̴.̶.̴i̵t̷ ̸w̸i̴l̶l̶ ̷a̵l̷l̶ ̸b̶e̵ ̸o̶v̷e̵r̸ ̴s̶o̶o̸n̵.̶.̵.̷


W̵̭̠͐͒̂̏h̸̬̹̑̒̕o̴̱̒̿ ̵̙̖̒ͅa̸̻̙̒̌̈́ȑ̵̬͕͐̎e̵̢̻̥̺͋͠ ̷͉͓͗̉y̷̧̮̠̦̓̎͛̆o̷͍̳̼̝͋̈u̸̱͛̂̒̓?̶̖͈͇̈́͠ ̴͚̯̬̀͝Y̴̜̯̔̐͑͝o̴̭͛̃ü̷̡̢'̷̻̊̕r̶̺̬̆̿e̶̡̗̗̋̈́̾ ̷̥̊̅̕n̶͉̱͉̎̀̈́͘͜ô̵̡̨͔̔̀̓͜t̵͙̩̅̋̅ ̶̲͓́ï̸̩̖͖̈́n̶̩̘̞̾ ̴̩̫̋̎͝t̴̯̾̅h̵̤̻̎̓̈́͠î̴̺̱͉s̷̜̘̏̀ ̶͆̍̇͝ͅb̸̪͕̱̳́o̵̱̿̆d̷͖̒y̵̟͑́͊?̵̹͆͝ ̶̟̫͊̅H̴̢̧͒ó̵̧̞w̷̰̏̎ ̵̥̥̙͎̐c̴̆͜a̵͚̗̪͋̍͋̕n̴̢̳͐͊͝ ̷͈͙͋͑͗̄ͅy̶̲̬̹̙͌̏̑̀o̸̡̔́̔u̶͈͌̉̎̆ ̷̲̩̤͋t̷̗̿̒à̷̬̜l̷̬̯̑̓k̴͓͓̔͒͊ ̵̣̝̘͙͆͛̽ṯ̸̞͖͋̽̈̎ȯ̷̡̿͛ ̶̙̘̈́̓ͅm̶̡̟̱̹͊̕͝è̷̡̩̟̃̚?̸͈̗͐


T̴h̸e̸ ̷o̶t̶h̶e̷r̶s̴ ̷a̵r̴e̴ ̶l̵i̸k̸e̷ ̵a̸n̶i̶m̶a̶l̷s̸.̷.̵.̸b̶u̶t̸ ̴I̵ ̶a̷m̸ ̶v̷e̸r̵y̵ ̴a̶w̷a̸r̴e̵.̵ ̷I̴ ̵w̸i̷l̸l̷ ̶b̴e̸ ̷g̸o̴n̴e̷ ̴s̸o̵o̴n̸.̵.̵.̴b̶u̵t̶ ̴y̸o̵u̶'̸l̷l̶ ̵h̶a̴v̷e̸ ̷t̴o̴ ̸c̴o̴n̵t̵r̵o̵l̸ ̸t̴h̸e̸ ̷s̷u̷i̵t̴ ̴w̵h̸e̷n̴ ̸t̷h̸e̵ ̵t̸i̸m̶e̵ ̴c̸o̸m̴e̵s̵.̴.̵.̶t̵o̵ ̷s̷t̸o̸p̸ ̷h̷i̸m̷


W̸̳͒̑̍͋h̶͓̯͂ͅō̷͍̥̘̭̈́̚͠?̵̦̇













H̷i̷m̶

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H̷i̷m̶


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