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#by trying to write more of this essay and then going to sleep
kydrogendragon · 2 days
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Hob hates changing lives.
He tells himself he likes it, a year or so in. He tells himself he enjoys the variety, the meeting new people, and seeing new sights. And he does. Just . . . not now. Now when he's still mourning his old life.
He sits on the couch—a new one, not the one that's formed to him over the last twenty years—and sighs as he stares at the few boxes he was able to bring with him. The small flat in Cardiff was fine, arguably lovely, in fact. He's been excited about it when he's first done the paperwork, and there's a distant part of himself that's still excited. But as he looks up at the unfamiliar walls and listens to the unfamiliar sounds of the street and city below, Hob can't help but feel trapped.
He can't go back. Not for a while. Not until he's forgotten in people's minds. He won't see the New Inn again or any of his friends from KCL or the Chens who knew his order by heart because he couldn't go more than two weeks without craving their food.
Robert Golding was gone to the world. Now he's just Rob Garroway—a nobody who lives in Cardiff who does . . . something. Hob hasn't actually gotten that far into figuring out what job he'll pick up this go-around. Maybe he'll try his hand at writing something other than historical essays for the university. Or maybe he'll buy a boat and become a fisherman. Lots of choices. All of them too overwhelming to even think about.
He collapses into the still-to-firm couch and tosses his arm over his eyes. The day is still young—its barely past one in the afternoon—and already he's exhausted. He can feel that familiar weight settling into his bones, holding him close to the earth. He doesn't even know any good take-out joints yet because Lord knows he won't have any energy to cook for the next week. Or two. Or more.
A problem for future him. For now, Hob turns into the back of the couch, face hidden from the sun and the foreign place he now calls home, closes his eyes, and sleeps.
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fourteenthz · 5 months
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I have 6 projects to do the next 2 and a half weeks and still my brain decides that it's time to plan gpose ideas. Hah.
#i was getting extressed thinking I cannot remember a single location to try a cuddle pile of the red trio but i need to find one#and i need to find reference of cuddle pile poses so i get everything right and-#*remembers i didn't finished the analysis I need for tomorrow* oh.#this is the agonies that I'm feeling rm btw. im sure i can find reference easily but i just really want to like more#touch-love-language-coded gposes with them specifically. red trio includes my wol btw and ofc raha and alie#but who knows maybe ill just stick with Alisaie for now the pose in my head already seems too complicated and I DO NOT HAVE LOCATION... MAN.#do I try to gpose at my apartment??? sound weird since he's not done but maybe. cannot think of a bed/sofa in the open world lol#wait shup up maybe baldesion annex is the best choice... ok thats it#ok half of this plan done i need to focus on this essay UGH ARCHITECTS SHOULDN'T HAVE TO WRITE PAPERS. SPECIALLY SO CLOSE TO SUMMER VACATION#me: ah yes studying city my favorite part of this major. me when it's closer to summer vacation: i absolutely will drop out rn#also ok i forgot ghosts' art exists maybe thsts the best inspiration for gpose... ok plan done.#now I'll need that “pls dont talk to me im trying to work” sign on my back for the next two weeks#if i post here KNOW that I'm procrastinating.#it makes me feel less bad when im the one that usually asks to do more work on my group so I also only procrastinate when I'm annoyed#something went wrong but its going to be done. soon. believe it.#daily: uni student complaints about her life's love or whatever#i feel like my friends are tired of me saying “i want to play xiv” daily but OH WELL TWO MORE WEEKS lets go#kelly says#dl#this useless rambling post is brought to you by me procrastinating on SLEEPING so see not so bad (i think)
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leetolgoblin · 1 year
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hoo boy i am not doing a good job at taking care of myself. almost out of clean clothes, dont think ive eaten today, super dehydrated, wildly overstimulated, and i *still* havent written this essay, one of the three that i need to have done this week.
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jellyfishsthings · 1 month
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Nerves and Stolen Kisses
I have been toying with the idea of writing a fic about him for quite sometime and after last weekend I just had to. Estelle ( Ollie's rumoured gf is mentioned here but it is a fake relationship for PR reasons.) Also Paul Aron has a gf... friends to lovers trope.
Shoutout to @httpiastri for the inspiration
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The Saudi Arabian Grand Prix was fast approaching. And Ollie was a jumble of nerves and excitement as usual. Since the early hour of the day, he opened the curtains letting the sun into the room and you groaned into the pillow.
“Wakey wakey, sleepyhead. Come on, we have a whole day ahead of us.”
“No, you do. I don't know why I came.”
“Because I am your bestest friend and I paid for your ticket and let you stay with me.”
“Both of which are for your benefit.”
“Come on….”
“Fine.” You say with a dejected sigh as you get up and you both get ready for the day. David, Ollie's dad was already waiting for you and you headed towards the paddock.
Everything was a frenzy and was passing by so quickly. As Ollie got into the garage and got ready for the quali you headed towards the stands trying to find Cassie, Paul's long-term girlfriend. Throughout the years you have formed a unique friendship. She was the only one who knew about your crush on Ollie and she teased you endlessly about it. Ollie and you had been best friends for the better part of your life, joint to the hip, having endless sleepovers, even if Dad didn't approve.
It was an endless nightmare being close enough to get a taste of all the what ifs, but never experiencing them.
“Do you and your lover boy share a room, huh?”
“It's not like that and you know it, Cassandra.”
“Yeah, it hurts, doesn't it?”
“So much. You have no idea. Yesterday I couldn't sleep and as the hours passed, he came closer and closer. He ended up holding me in his sleep. And I felt so bad because of Estelle. I know that they aren't really together and it's for PR, but still, I feel awful because technically I am the other woman… and she is just so nice and sweet. Never overstepping, I think she knows.”
We both stay quiet after that as the session continues.
“You know… whatever the case. You both love each other, platonically or not.”
“Yeah, I know.” I say as I watch the times set by all the drivers, Ollie having the fastest one yet.
“Looks like your man is on pole.”
We both make our way through the paddock, trying to pass the roaring sea of fans and we hand out already-signed autographs to anyone who asks for them. When we finally arrive, we part ways, before making promises about having dinner together at a restaurant Cassie wanted to try. And I head towards the Prema garage finding two beaming Bearmans, hugging.
“Hey Bear. Did you drive fast enough?” You call at him. And he grins like an idiot before swooping you into a tight hug spinning you. His laughter echoes in your ears as he sets you down.
“Yeah I drove fast enough, you minx.”
“Good. Now let's go. We are having dinner with Paul and Cassie in four hours and I want to see the city.”
“Give me five minutes to change and we are good to go.”
The afternoon is spent visiting local stores, trying to communicate in scrappy English and making terrible puns with products or street names. When they finally head to the restaurant their sides hurt from laughing. Dinner passed by as quickly as it came. As everyone says, time flies by when you are with the people you love.
Just as they open the door for their hotel room, Ollie flops in the bed as you head towards your computer and open it as hoards of emails and messages appear on the screen. Great more deadlines and essays to write until the end of the week.
“Leave it. We can pretend that we have nothing to do and watch a movie or local TV and try to understand what the hell is going on.”
“Thanks Bear. But I can't, as tempting as your offer is. Go to sleep, I will join you soon.”
And so you sit in front of your computer, ending essay after essay, sending them on time, until your eyes hurt from the pale blue light. The bed seems more welcoming than ever before as Ollie starfishes the entire length of it and his soft snores fill the empty space. Yeah, maybe it's time to call it a day.
An awful sound echoes in the room and eventually wakes you.
“I swear if it's one more ad I will jump from the window.” You grumble into your pillow as you steal the blankets and turn yourself into a burrito.
Ollie hisses as he opens his phone only to find a ton of messages and many missed calls from Ferrari. He dials Fred back as he moves towards the bathroom, trying to let you steal a few more minutes of much needed sleep.
When he emerges back in the room he sits down in front of you, his back supported on the bed.
“Ols, what's going on?”
“Carlos has an appendix”
“Oh no. Is he having surgery?”
“Yeah.” He says softly. “They want me to replace him.”
“What?” At that you are fully awake. Your hair is a netted nest and you look at him in shock. He looks at you, you his best friend who would look like a mess to anyone else but to him you look like the most beautiful and amazing creature in the world. Your mere presence has a more calming effect on him than anything else. If it weren't for you, he would have already lost his mind. “How? When? I…”
“We need to get to the paddock, if I don't want to miss FP3. I will wake up Dad and break the news to him.”
Soon after you enter the paddock and thousands of reporters try to get a better look at Ollie, flashing their cameras at you and bombarding you with questions as you make your way to the Ferrari garage and mechanics steal Ollie from you and David as they set to work quickly. David looks pale and sick as he paces into the garage trying to control his nerves through the FP3 and the Quali. When Ollie finally got off the car when he scored the 11th place, missing Q2 only by 3 hundreds of a second, you knew that this was it. He was finally shining like the bright star he was. He had done more than enough, his raw talent showing with barely one hour to get used to the car. And as mechanics and reporters closed around him. You couldn't help but feel like you didn't belong here. Where did you fit in? The reality hit you and it hit you hard. You hid in the back corners of the garage, eyes glued to the screen as everyone passed by without acknowledging you. You would happily hide in the shadows where he shined but this world wasn't meant for you. The anxiety was picking up at you, eating you alive from the inside.
And when Ollie got too close to the wall, your heart stopped beating. He was driving a car that was twice as fast and twice as dangerous than his normal F2 car. It was too much. The sound, the danger, everything really. Breathing suddenly seemed so hard and you needed a way out. As you hide behind the garage you call the one person who could understand. Terri picks up in the second ring her soft voice already calming you.
“Hey love. Is everything alright?”
“How do you do it? How can you stand back and do nothing?”
“You love him, don't you sweetheart?”
“I thought it was obvious.”
“Well … no I always hoped but… whatever the case, to answer your question you simply do it, you just have to. A driver needs his support system and you are it for him. You are his forever person, whether that is romantically or not. He needs to be near you and as much nervous as you are, so is he. Without you he would be lost, believe me I know my son. And I can bet you that as much as your heart breaks right now, you are also immensely proud.”
“Of course I am. But where do I fit in, in this world.”
“Right beside him, love.”
“Thanks Terri. Please call David. I think he is losing his mind and he is sick with worry.” You say chuckling before saying your goodbyes and head back towards the garage. The session is already over and Ollie is nowhere in sight.
Ollie plays with the power button of his phone trying to calm down but to no avail. The lock screen is a photo of the two of you. It was last summer both your skins flushed and hair slightly wet and tangled. You both smile at the camera and your eyes look bright with happiness. He feels slightly lighter but he knows that there is an impending panic attack and so he turns to the one person who could help him in this situation.
"I got your text," you say, tiptoeing inside and shutting the door behind you, careful to not make any loud sounds to scare him. "How are you doing?”
Ollie is sitting on a massaging table, elbows on top of his legs and head resting in his hands. His eyes are stuck on the floor, his silence is defeaning. When he still doesn't answer, your heart rate picks up. Is something really wrong?
You make your way over to him, hands finding his cheeks and softly tilting him up to look at you – and you swear you've never seen him look this wrecked before. Not after his worst crashes, not when he lost the rookie championship last year, not when he was cheated out from the Formula 3 championship. Once again, you've entered completely new territory, and your heart breaks at the sight.
"Ollie, talk to me," you plead, holding back the tears that starts to form on your eyes and threatento spill. It's so painful to look into his eyes, but you can't back down. Not now, not when he needs you this much.
"I'm-" his voice cracks but he shakes his head, clearing his throat. "I'm so nervous, I don't know what to do."
It's like he's oozing anxiety, and his heavy sigh is like a stab in your chest. Ollie, your usually so calm and collected best friend is probably going crazy over this – you know him well enough by now to understand that he's definitely freaking out even more on the inside than what he shows or tells. He is a messy jumble of nerves.
"I get that. One hundred per cent. But.." your thumbs begin to stroke over the skin of his cheeks, along his jaw, and then finally across his eyebrows, to which his eyes flutter closed. "This is your dream. It's been your dream since forever, and now you finally have the chance.”
"And it's not just any car, it's a Ferrari. Do you realize how cool that is? Do you realize how many people would kill for an opportunity like this?" You smile at the sight of him with his eyes still shut, eyelashes resting atop his cheeks, messy fringe covering his forehead. Even like this, at his most stressed state, he's completely gorgeous, not that you would ever tell him that. "You would've killed for an opportunity like this just 24 hours ago."
"But what if I ruin it?" His voice is barely above a whisper when he speaks, shoulders slumping forward. "What if I go out there and I'm shit, and then they realize what a big mistake they've made by even putting me in the academy? What if-"
"It won't happen." His eyelids slowly open and he looks up at you, seemingly not even the slightest upset that you cut him off. "You're too good to do that. You'll get in that car and it will feel like your second home, just like it always does."
Finally, a small smile makes its way onto his lips. It's only been a few minutes since you came in, but he seems much more relaxed now, leaning into your touch completely. "I'll try my best to make you proud."
“I'm always proud of you, you mufflehead.”
A laugh bubbles from his chest and he stands up from the table, opening his arms wide and pulling you in for a tight hug. His heart is still beating louder than a drum in his chest when your ear is pressed up against it, and you're almost worried it will jump out any second now. But his breaths are much more controlled now, and his mind seems much lighter. And soon enough his heartbeat slows to normal.
“I bet that in twenty four hours not only will you finish the race, you will score points and beat Max Verstappen.”
“Let's not get ahead of ourselves” he says chuckling. “God, my neck is killing me.”
“Sit down. I've got you.” And so you start massaging his neck. It's stiff and hard under your hands and he lets a small groan as you untangle one of the knots that were quite painful. After a few minutes he is putty in your hands, his eyes closed, trusting you completely and feeling at ease for the first time in the past two days.
True to your world, Ollie crosses the finish line in seventh place, having gained points in his debut. But the one thing that kept him calm through the process was the thought that she was waiting for him in the cool down room. When the race finishes and drives the car back home he jumps from his seat and he can't get fast enough to her. People around him are praising him and congratulating him but they all fall to deaf eyes.
When he finally gets into the room to change into new fireproofs, she is patiently waiting for him. Her eyes are a little misty and her face flushed.
“I told you.”
“I didn't beat Max.”
“Still.”
She closes in on him and her hands are thrown around his neck, he reciprocates the hug immediately as his heart beat finally slows down. They doth draw away after a while only for him to dive back into her and kiss her firmly on the lips. Shock petrifies her and when he stops, he places his forehead on top of hers. He is a flustered mess and he is mumbling apologies, before she reconnects their lips.
For the following hours Ollie sports a shit-eating grin on his face. Everyone thinks that it is because of his amazing performance and not for kissing the girl that held his heart captive since they were five years old.
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csuitebitches · 5 months
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Things I Have to do for My Sanity
1. Wake up at the first alarm - no snoozing and no going lying around in bed. Getting up straight away and head to the bathroom. It’s going to suck initially but you’ll get used to it in a few days.
2. Mental self care: 30 minute meditation, brain games mental math, reading, news. Knowledge is sexy and don’t deny yourself sexiness.
3. Daily review in my diary at the beginning and end of my day: what went well, what didn’t, what I need to accomplish to achieve my goals. This has tremendously helped my goals and keeping my motivation more consistent, especially at work. Analysing and correcting incremental changes creates long term success.
4. Cleaning up before bed - clothes, shoes, organising my bag, etc. I set a timer for 5 minutes and try to get as much done as possible.
5. Pick out my clothes the night before and steam iron them for the next day.
6. Face masks twice a week, a hair mask once a week, I scrub the soles of my feet with that foot scrubbing thingy once a week. Manicures every month because my nail beds are too sensitive to do it biweekly, iron supplements so that I’m not a moody bitch. Matching underwear to feel good about myself. Lavender spray on my pillow before sleeping so that I don’t get weird dreams.
7. Reading biographies and autobiographies. My mentor had suggested this to me and it’s amazing how literally I don’t have a single original experience - everything I’ve felt or mistakes I’ve made have already been done by someone else.
I’m going to curate a list of business books that I feel that have helped me the most recently.
8. I write a short essay everyday in the language I’m currently learning. I also end my day by talking about my day for at least 2 minutes in that language and I record it in voice memos to keep a track of my progress. I want to be fluent to a level where I can think in this language.
I don’t generally share a lot about my personal life - none of you know my name or where I’m based and I feel comfortable doing that. But I do want to start giving out more insights to what I’m doing personally in my career - the good, the bad, the ugly.
Being self aware and honest to myself has helped me improve a lot. I know that shame is my Achilles heel, so now I’m reading books to combat that. I’ve caved in and decided to try therapy for a bit to see if what I’m doing is useful or not. My first session is tomorrow. Staying disciplined was my initial hurdle but the systems I’ve set (waking up early + habit stacking) have helped me slowly overcome that.
Work side, I’ve started establishing myself publicly more. I don’t want to reveal too much about what I do exactly but the good news is that our biggest competitor has noticed my progress (a former employee of that company came to us for an interview and directly asked our top management about me). It’s been 4 months that I’ve been working here but I know that next year I really have to swing the bat and hit a home run. I’ve decided to work on the field more and less in the office to really understand people’s needs and create unique solutions.
The daily/weekly/quarterly diary is definitely credited to my recent wins. That’s the biggest change I’ve made in my routine and i can already see that it’s working well. I’m going to continue refining and implementing that method.
Recent work methods I’ve decided to start working on (I’m not required to do these but I do it for my growth):
1. I’ve started studying popular companies’ business and revenue models in detail. Everything is adoptable and adaptable, you just have to figure out how to tweak something for your company’s clients and needs. Now I’ve decided that I want to keep a track of our competitors, their business models, their owners names, pricing strategy, their target audience etc etc on an excel sheet so that I’m aware with what’s happening in the market. 
2. I’ve started making client profiles. Every time I meet a client, I note down their name, the company name, what they were like, anything specific they seemed to like or want, how much they had paid us for a service, what their paying capacity could be, etc. 
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bookshelf-dust · 7 months
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kiss it better
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steve harrington x fem!reader
word count: 3,176
warnings: swearing, sick fic (sorta), steve not taking care of himself, anxiety, stress, mental breakdown?, best friends to lovers deal (let me know if i missed something)
a/n: hi! it’s been awhile. i’m sorry about that. this has been a very slow process for me. my mental health is shit, and that’s probably obvious. i hope it hasn’t seeped into this too much, but it probably will with the next few things i write. i apologize for taking so long to post, for disappearing, for not really making this the blog it once was. but i’m not the same person i was then. so we’ll see where this goes. i hope you enjoy this one a little. i love you.
————
The shrill sound of a phone ringing scares you awake, eyes flying open, heart pounding so aggressively you fear for a split second that it might burst. 
You sit up quickly, enough so that you make yourself dizzy trying to get your bearings. You roll onto your side, and reach blindly across the edge of your nightstand, grabbing for the green plastic that’s shaking with the force of which it’s ringing. 
You almost fall out of bed, just managing to catch yourself as you bring the phone to your ear. 
“Hello?”
Your voice comes out weak, thick with sleep and the longing for more rest. It startles you and makes you clear your throat. 
“Hey, it’s me.”
The voice on the other line is even weaker than your own. It’s quiet.
“Steve?”
Your eyes find the alarm clock on your dresser, bright red letters telling you it’s just after one in the morning. You might be half-asleep, but you’re conscious enough that your heart rate picks up, registering that this isn’t when your best friend normally calls. 
You hear him breathe, along with some shuffling. He’s nodding his head, but realizes you can’t see. 
“Yeah. Listen,” he drags a shaking hand down his face. “I’m sorry to call so late.”
“Hey, it’s okay. What’s the matter? Is something wrong?”
He goes quiet for a moment, but you wait patiently for him to continue. He must be trying to get something out, and you don’t want to pressure him, or cause him stress in any way. 
Steve huffs, frustrated with himself. 
“I-I’ve got an insane headache, and we’re out of goddamn medicine. My parents were here, and my mom was hungover and I guess she must’ve emptied us out, but it hurts too bad to drive, and…” He trails off, breathing heavily. 
His pause lends you a moment to process, and you decide to speak up. If his head is killing him, you know finding the energy to speak to you, let alone call, has to be draining. You wouldn’t want him to suffer anymore than he already is. 
“Stevie?” you start, happy to hear a small hum that encourages you to go on. He registers what you’ve called him, something you don’t call him often, and his chest aches. “I’ve got some I can bring you. I think all the drugstores nearby are closed.” 
You swing your legs out from under the covers, pushing yourself off the mattress. Pressing the phone between your cheek and shoulder, you pull on the pair of sweats slung over the end of your bed, trying not to bust your ass as you hop into them. 
“Is anything else hurting you?” you ask, gently as can be. 
“Honestly?” he responds. “I think I’m sick. I can’t be sick, can I?”
You stand upright once again, taking the phone firmly in your hand. 
“I think even King Steve can get sick from time to time. I’ll be there soon, okay?”
————
Steve’s not sure you understand him. He can’t be sick. He’s got shit to do. He has a shift tomorrow, and he’s pretty sure Dustin needs a ride one day this week because Claudia is on a “girls trip.” He has to keep working on his college essay, because he’d told you he was almost done, but really he isn’t. 
Steve doesn’t have the time to be sick. And he can’t have you ruining your own schedule to come and babysit him. He’s supposed to be the babysitter. Not the charge. 
He should be able to take care of himself, but of course, the one time his parents come home they clean out his mediocre supply of medicine. Something he’s always stocked up on, given his tendency to get the shit beat out of him, or the nasty string of tension headaches that just won’t quit. 
And his head is killing him. He has his palms pressed to his temples, trying (and failing) to dull the ache. There aren’t any lights on in the kitchen, where he’s sitting on the floor, back pressed to the cabinets. 
He’s trying not to move too much either, because he’s dizzy. This probably has to do with the fact that he skipped dinner, feeling too nauseous to eat. Now that Steve is hungry, he fears he won’t be able to get up and fix anything. 
Maybe you’ll be able to help, he thinks. But that voice is quick with a counter argument. No. I need to do it. 
He perks up at the sound of the front door opening. “Steve?” you call out, careful not to slam the door or yell too loud. It’s also why you hadn’t rung the doorbell. 
Steve raps his knuckles softly against the countertop, hoping it’ll be enough to clue you in. He can’t bring himself to shout right now. You follow the sound, taking the few steps toward the kitchen. 
When your eyes lock on his figure, see the way the heels of his hands press into his eyes, you realize how young he looks. He almost looks small, legs pulled up to his chest, big, lanky body compacted as much as possible. He looks vulnerable. You’re sure he hates that. 
“Hi, Steve,” you say, keeping your voice low. 
He looks up at you, and his face splits into a sweet grin. He’s happy that you’re here, even if that voice is screaming at him, wanting to punish him for asking for help. 
“Hey, honey.” You smile back at him, and his heart rate picks up. Sometimes he forgets how beautiful you are, and then you’re standing in front of him, snatching every last breath from his lungs. 
You set your bag down beside him and reach out, brushing his hair back from his forehead. He feels a little warm, but not feverishly so. 
You move away from him, grabbing a cup from the drying rack. You fill it up with water and crouch at his side. Steve takes the glass from you, head resting against the cabinet to watch as you grab him some medicine. You hand him a few pills, and he takes them quickly. If he doesn’t get this headache calmed down soon, he thinks he might just die. 
Steve keeps drinking the water you gave him, and you push his hair back again, watching the way it curls around his ears. 
He drinks about half of the water before he pauses, taking a deep breath. He looks at you then. It’s mostly dark in the kitchen, but the lamp on the table by the front door is on, so you’re a little backlit from it. Not to mention the moonlight seeping in from the window above the sink.
You look gorgeous. And you came over to take care of him. You got up, at one in the morning, and drove to his house, just because he asked you to. Hell, he hadn’t even asked. He hadn’t gotten the words out. But you’d known. You’d known exactly what he was trying to ask, and you’d offered your help with no qualms. 
Steve’s nose starts to sting, and that pressure from behind his eyes—it starts to release. Before he knows it, his vision is getting cloudy, and he’s crying. He can’t be crying, can he? 
You carefully remove the glass from his hand and move in between his spread knees. 
“Steve, it’s okay. I’m here, and I’m gonna take top notch care of you.” 
“I know you are,” he says, voice breaking. “But I should be able to do it myself. I always do it myself.” He presses his hands against his face, but you catch his wrists and gently pull them away. 
You hold your arms out, and Steve practically falls into you. He buries his face in your neck. He can feel the warmth of your skin, the cotton of your sleep shirt. You smell like soap, that fancy conditioner you use. 
One of your hands finds the base of his neck, nails scratching gently over his scalp, thumb dragging over the top of his spine. Your other rubs soothingly up and down his back. 
“But the thing is, Stevie, you don’t have to.” 
He’s not a loud crier. But he is sort of panicky, breaths coming quick and short, chest heaving against your own. “I know you’ve always had to do a lot by yourself, but you can ask for help, and you don’t have to punish yourself for it, either.”
You feel him nod against your collarbone. His hands are fisting the back of your shirt. Eventually, he pulls away, but keeps his eyes closed. He tries to keep his head turned from your gaze. 
“Hey. Look at me.”
He does, albeit reluctantly. Steve’s cheeks are flushed, lashes clumped together and lips parted where he tries to suck in a good deep breath. 
You reach up, fingers gently sweeping away the remainder of the tears on his face. He leans into your touch, and you let him. You lean forward and press a sweet kiss to his forehead. You’ve never done that before.
Steve recognizes that you’ve never done it before, even if it’s sort of fuzzy. Sure, he’s kissed the back of your hand and you’ve reciprocated, but he’s usually the one to initiate physical affection. You’re too shy most often, even if you ache to do it. 
Fuck, he wishes he were a little more coherent right now. 
“Can you stand for me? It’s late, and I think you need to rest.”
He runs a hand through his hair. “Yeah, sure.” Now that he’s thinking about it, getting in bed sounds so nice. 
You stand first, and watch as Steve pushes off the floor, gripping the countertop on the way up to steady himself. 
“Come on. The stairs are gonna be a pain.”
He reaches out for you, and you let him take your arm. He pads out to the staircase, and you watch each precarious step he takes, hoping he won’t get too woozy and trip. 
By the time he finally makes it up there, he’s wrapped both arms around your waist and buried his face between your shoulder blades. You soften beneath his hold. 
You walk slowly towards his bedroom, and he waddles behind you. You push the door open. “M’kay, Steve. Wanna change clothes and hop into bed?” 
He pulls off of you and grabs hold of his dresser. “I’m not givin’ you a free show.”
You snort. “I’ll go get some more water and be right back.”
His grin fades. “Please be fast.” He doesn’t want you to go. He doesn’t want you to leave him. 
“Steve, I’m practically The Flash.”
He laughs, pulling a pair of sweats and a t-shirt out of the drawer. Usually he’d sleep in less, but with you here he feels he should keep his modesty.
When you return, he takes the water from you, drinking it faster than he probably should. Steve feels like he’s had the shit beat out of him, and for once—he hasn’t. 
You’d sat down on the edge of the bed, not noticing the way he’s staring at you. You look up when he sets the glass down. He drags both hands down his face. 
“What’s wrong?” you ask.
He exhales. “I want you to stay here with me, but I don’t want you to get sick. The idea of you being on the couch, which is like, miles away, is driving me insane.”
“Steve?”
“Huh?”
“Can’t I just sleep on the futon?”
His eyes move towards the other side of his room where said piece of furniture is pressed against the wall. He’d bought it when group sleepovers became a thing after all they’d dealt with. Jesus, his brain really isn’t working. 
“Oh. Yeah, honey. Just don’t want you to go far.” 
You lean forward and push his hair back from his forehead. You’ll need to remember to take his temperature come morning.
“I’m not going anywhere, Steve. I promise. Not until you’re all better.”
————
When Steve wakes up, you’re not there. He starts to panic, thinking maybe he’d been too much, maybe he’d shown you a side of himself he shouldn’t have, that maybe you left. 
But you return to his room just as he’s about to start looking for you. There’s a thermometer in your hand. 
“Morning, sleepy boy. Are you coherent enough for me to check your temperature? Or no?”
He yanks the covers off of himself, and his shirt has ridden up. You catch a sliver of tummy before he sits up fully, and you miss it the second it’s gone. 
“Hit me, I can take it.”
You roll your eyes but stick the thermometer under his tongue when he opens his mouth. When you pull it away, you’re happy to see he hasn’t got a fever. He was warm last night when you kissed his forehead, but you’re thinking it was from stress or just overheating. 
“No fever. What’s buggin’ you today, Stevie?”
He flops onto his back, and his shirt rides up again. You mentally slap yourself for being so enamored by it. All your brain can compute is tummy. Steve’s tummy. “My head still, and my stomach. I feel like I haven’t slept in four years.”
His words snap you out of your reverie. “Four years? That’s incredible. When’s the last time you ate something?”
Steve stares at you for a moment, though it looks as if there isn’t a single thought behind his eyes. “Yesterday…morning. I think. Yeah, I had a banana.”
You stare back, rather appalled at his statement. “Steve.”
“Hm?”
“All you’ve had to eat in the past twenty four hours is a banana?”
“Yep.”
“Jesus christ. Get your ass up and come with me.”
Steve doesn’t move. Rather he watches you move, right out the door and towards the top of the stairs. You pause and turn around, crossing your arms. 
He huffs. And then he slides down the side of the bed like a child before crawling up and following you to the kitchen. 
Over the course of the next few hours, you manage to get Steve to eat, shower, and go for a short walk, weather permitting and all. He’s looking astronomically better than he did last night. 
Steve sits opposite you on the couch, his socked feet in your lap. “What do you think my deal is?”
You rub your hand over his calf. “I think you just had a little bug. Or maybe you let yourself get too stressed out and your body couldn’t take it.”
He blinks. “Is that…that's not a thing? Is it?”
“When’s the last time you gave yourself a fuckin’ break, Steve? When you just took a day for yourself rather than worrying about who needs to go where, or if you’ll have to cover a shift? You have to take care of yourself, or this is the kind of shit that happens.”
“Being overwhelmed about your parents, not eating, worrying about that application, all of that is fucking with you. That headache was probably a stress headache. They’re killer. I want you to be healthy and comfortable, Steve.”
You exhale, and close your eyes. When you open them, Steve has sat up, scooting towards you on your end of the couch. 
He might still be tired, but he can’t believe this. He can’t believe you. No one has ever worried for him in this way. 
“Why are you looking at me like that?” you ask. 
He barely even registers your words, too busy memorizing every line on your face. You look so fucking beautiful. It almost makes him angry. 
“I’m thinkin’ about how bad I want to kiss you.”
Your face starts to burn. You shove his shoulder. He looks at the place where you’d pushed, quirking a brow, but grinning nonetheless.
“What?”
“Steve, you can’t say shit like that.”
“How come?”
“Because we’re friends.”
“Best friends.”
“Well yeah, but best friends don’t say that to one another.”
His grin widens. He looks more awake than he has this entire time. 
“Oh, but you haven’t said it.”
You blink. “Huh?”
Steve gets his voice up that little bit higher, doing a cheap imitation of you. “‘Best friends don’t say that to one another.’ Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but that implies you want a kiss too, doesn’t it?”
You drag your hands down your face and flop back against the arm of the couch. 
“So you gonna say it, or what?” He’s shifted, and you can feel him hovering over you, but you refuse to move your hands. 
“Of course I’m thinking about kissing you, Steve.” You suck in a breath and open your eyes, locking with his own. “But you’ve got cooties.”
Steve rolls his eyes before he backs up and yanks on your ankle so that you’re flat against the couch. 
“You did not just lecture me about self-care just to tell me I have cooties. I didn’t even have a fever.” 
“I didn’t even have a fever,” you mock, lowering your voice in what is quite possibly the worst impression of him you could do.
He’s quick about it. Almost stealthy, not that you’d ever boost his ego by telling him so. But his fingers are reaching for your sides, the tips dancing over your shirt, that tiny sliver of hip showing where it’s ridden up. 
Steve is practically drunk off of your laugh. It’s the sweetest sound he’s ever heard, and when he goes for your neck, when you tilt your head and trap his fingers between your cheek and shoulder, he thinks he could die. 
You and your laugh. The fact that you drove over at one in the fucking morning, without even thinking about it, just because you care. That you stayed the night, listened to his pitiful thoughts, took care of him…it’s too much. 
Never in his life did he think he’d find someone like you. Someone who makes him feel like he matters. You’d made him realize how smart he is, how capable. That he could do things for himself and not just to please his dickhead father. 
You have made him whole. 
He lets up when you start breathing extra heavily, only to tickle the underside of your foot before he quits, just to piss you off. You kick him in the side. 
“I think a kiss from my very favorite person might be the best form of self-care there is, honey.”
You sit up. “Wow. King Steve really never died.” He raises his hands like he might tickle you again, but you catch them before he can do any damage. “Okay, sorry!” 
Before he can register it, you’ve leaned in and pressed your lips to his. When he does realize, he lets out a surprised hum, and you can feel that smartass smirk forming on his face. 
When you pull away, he whines. 
“All better?”
Steve falls back against the couch, pulling you with him just to get that laugh out of you again. 
“I’m healed.”
————
please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33
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gentaro-kinniecom · 3 months
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New Beginnings
Characters: Zayne/fem!reader
C/w: 1.4k! (Read at your own risk, meant for +18) mentions of breeding, married life, somewhat graphic descriptions of sex. Zayne wants to be a father although he doesn't admit it..he just wants to get you knocked up.
A/n: Finished writing this instead of my english essay because... There's also a Rafayel fanfic in the making so stay tuned for more <33
“Zayne? It’s 1am, you still haven’t come back to bed..” I said, leaning against the door frame as he sighed, typing away on his computer while passing a hand across his hair, trying to calm himself down. 
“I know. I’m sorry, I’ll be there”
“That’s what you said an hour ago..you’re tiring and exhausting yourself to the point of death at this point” Zayne sighed, closing his laptop and getting up from his desk chair, walking towards me with a soft grin trying to comfort me. 
“Are you satisfied now?” He asked, hugging my waist as we walked towards our shared bedroom. Ever since we got married, Zayne has gotten more work than usual piled up on his desk every time I go to visit him at work. It worries me that he’s overworking himself because of money, which hasn’t been an issue at all given he’s a doctor and works in a very respected hospital. But what other reason might it be? I laid in our shared bed, feeling myself drift away to sleep when suddenly, Zayne wrapped his arms around my waist. 
“Mhm, thank you” I replied, snuggling up to him while caressing his soft dark strands of hair that fell on his face, smiling. He muttered something under his breath that I couldn’t quite grasp as Zayne kissed me goodnight. I couldn’t help but stay awake for a few minutes, looking at the city lights by the window and back at Zayne’s sleeping form beside me.
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Woken up by the sound of something crashing from the kitchen, I got out of bed with a small yawn, walking down the corridor of our lovely home to see Zayne had a mess of pancake batter all over his “kiss the cook” apron while sighing in annoyance before turning towards me.
“There’s shards of glass on the floor..please, be careful” I nod, grabbing a broom from the closet room and coming back to see Zayne was picking up the broken pieces from the floor. I suddenly stepped in one while trying to hand him the broom which made him look at me with worry, I try not to cry as he can clearly see the tears pricking my eyes.
“I’m fine I swear..” Without a second thought, he quickly lifted me onto the kitchen counter, carefully yet skillfully removing the glass from my foot as Zayne chuckled.
“Having you like this, reminds me of our honeymoon. Remember when-” I stopped Zayne by placing a hand over his mouth, trying to not remember that day where he fucked me into oblivion in our hotel’s kitchen island, right before breakfeast too.
“Why must you always make me remember? It’s like you’re hinting at wanting kitchen sex right now..” A chuckle left his lips as Zayne’s body inched closer, his hands grabbing my waist gently, kissing my neck while whispering sweet words that had me falling into his desire.
“Because, shouldn’t being a husband imply taking care of his wife’s desires as their own? Is it too bad that I want to be greedy with you for a few moments?”His hands began to trail under my nightgown and towards my chest as he began to rub my nipples, making me whine while kissing him.
“Alright, fine. Just seeing you in this apron alone made me feel things, did you do it on purpose?” I asked half jokingly as Zayne kissed my shoulder before taking off my nightgown, leaving me naked on the counter while grinning ear to ear.
“Perhaps, although now I see what you’ve been meaning to hide all this time; you’re trying to rile me up, and it’s working” He then kissed me, taking his sweet time to stroke my clit, agonizingly slow, teasing me as I whined into his mouth. Zayne didn’t take this lightly and spread my legs apart in a second. 
“And to think this wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t break the glass measuring vase today” I added, gazing over at Zayne who kneeled towards my pussy, blowing on it gently before sucking on it. I gasped as his tongue did wonders, had I really forgotten of that day, or was I too fucked out of my brains to remember? Possibly the latter. He suddenly grabbed my thighs, massaging them in a way that made my cunt drip with more arousal than before. Of course, I was impatient, so I grabbed Zayne’s hair, pulling him upwards as he got the message.
“Maybe it was fate or clumsiness on my behalf, at least we’re making something out of this.” He spoke, yet I was too focused on how quickly he was to take off his pants, making me wonder why the hell was he wearing work pants so early in the morning. Nonetheless, all my thoughts vanished out the window as soon as I saw his cock. It wasn’t less than average or more, slightly curved and girthy, the type that never wants to let go once he’s had a taste..that..is the man I married, and the man he will always be. The small but noticeable vein on the side made me drool as he stroked himself a few times before prodding at my entrance. 
“Please, don’t make me wait longer, my love” 
“I thought, you weren’t the type to beg for something, it seems there’s a first for everything after all” Pushing my hips to meet his cock, Zayne grabbed them harshly, not enough to leave a bruise but enough to put me in my place as he smiled. The moment he thrusted inside, I threw my head back at the overwhelming pleasure Zayne was giving me at the moment. My hand found Zayne’s shoulder as he continued to pound at my dripping pussy. He let out a sharp groan as he finally reached my g-spot, making me let out a breathy moan while speeding up.
“Is this what you- hah wanted all along? For me to breed you? Make you carry our child? Answer me.” Zayne’s voice dropped to that soft and warm yet firm tone I always loved. Without any doubt, I answered almost eagerly.
“Y-yes..! Oh fuck~!” I sobbed due to the stimulation he gave me, in a hazy rush, Zayne grabbed my thighs, thrusting sharply yet deeply, enough to make me crave more.
“You’d be such a good mom, look at you, all needy and willing for me. I can’t wait to expand our family with you” He said, panting afterwards as he unexpectedly came inside rather quickly than normal. Pulling his cock away from my puffy cunt almost regretting his decision not long before seeing his cum leak down with a faint smile on his face.
“Stay here, I’ll go grab a towel.'' I nod, smiling at his gentleness as he comes back to clean me up. Zayne’s lips met mine as a ‘thank you’ from my behalf for being so kind and sweet as always. We eventually got dressed once again as I looked at my husband through the mirror of our bedroom, walking downstairs as I stared at the kitchen momentarily.
“So..what are we going to do about breakfast?” I asked, causing him to laugh while he grabbed both the house and car keys as we exited the front door.
“I know of a brunch place that just opened up nearby, perhaps we could give it a try today”
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Some weeks later, I started feeling sick and began vomiting sometimes during the morning. I had a feeling it was because I was pregnant, however, my husband wanted to run some tests for me in the clinic near the hospital he worked at, “just to be sure” his words not mine. At the end of the day, I returned home waiting for the results to come back as I heard the front door open. Zayne tried little to hide the smile on his face as he handed me the envelope from the clinic
“I don’t need to read the letter at this point with the way you’re smiling at me” I teased, opening it up to show that I was indeed 3 weeks pregnant with his child. Zayne hugged me briefly before kissing my lips ever so softly.
“I promise to be the best father for our child, thank you for allowing me to have the blessing to start a family the day we got married, I love you.” He spoke, tear-eyed as I hugged him back, crying happily onto his chest.
“I love you too..I’ll never regret marrying the man that treats me like a queen and makes sure I have everything I need.” 
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oceansblvds · 4 months
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I SENT THE ASK ABT TEACHER CORYO IM BEGGING YOU TO WRITE TA/PROFESSOR SNOW 😝
OKOKOK IM GONNA WRITE SOME HEADCANONS BUT I MIGHT HONESTLY EXPAND THIS INTO A FULL FIC BC im a whore!
warning(s): nsfw, obsessive behavior, lowkey an abuse of power
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coriolanus, almost out of university, was selected to teach a higher level math class on the account of dr. gaul saying he needed a little bit more experience with teaching and leadership if he was to be head gamemaker. so, he was a TA, teaching under a professor but was basically given full rein with the class, as the professor seemed to focus more on research than teaching the class. the second he was in the lecture discussion, he saw you walk in. you were a junior, just a year under him in university and god were you beautiful. almost mouth wateringly so. it made him sick in the head at how pretty you were.
and gods above, you were smart, almost as smart as he was (though he wouldn't ever admit that) and it was clear that you liked him. you always smiled when he complimented your high scores on tests and quizzes, and would read the notes that he put in the margins of your essays with a glimmer in your eyes. he needed to talk to you, needed to be closer to you, and the only way that he could think of was to give you slightly lower marks on your essays and homeworks. never on a test, he would never want to drop your grade low enough for it to be concerning, but he did wait for you to stumble into his office hours. and you did. you asked him how you could do better on the material, and he told you that he'd help you.
he didn't have an office, only a classroom that he was lent during his office hours in the top floor of the math building. it was there that you would meet him, every tuesday and thursday, to go over problems. he liked the way that your lip would be bitten in between your teeth when you were looking at a particularly hard problem, or when you would look at him with your big doe eyes when you asked him for help. and whenever you asked him for help, he would lean closer, and explain it to you.
one day, he finally got the courage to make a move. you asked him for help and he placed his hand on your thigh, as if he was using it to keep himself steady as he leaned over. but instead of watching him explain on the paper, you kept your attention on his face. and then he pushed his hand further up your thigh, under your skirt, and you didn't stop him. your hand came to his and you pushed it up until it was cupping your pussy. he fingered you right then and there, hoping beyond hoping that no one else would walk into his office hours for help. the two of you made out while he fingered you, going as far as to press three fingers into you, with a squelching sound, your moans echoing through the room softly.
that became somewhat of a normal thing. you two always met during his office hours, until you decided to go to his home one day for some extra tutoring. it ended with you in his large bed with your legs spread, while he put his fingers in your mouth as he fucked you with such fervor that you were sure you were going to break.
sometimes when he was grading papers, you would slink under his desk and pull his cock out, spitting on the tip and bobbing your head up and down until he gave you the attention you wanted. he always fantasized about you doing this when he was teaching another class, with you working him with your mouth as he sat on his desk and no one else knew the wiser. he would have to try that with you one day.
lots of words like how dirty you were for sleeping with your teacher. "you're such a needy thing, aren't you?" "show me how good you've gotten" when you were riding him. "you probably fantasize about my cock in class, don't you?" it was all so derogatory. and other times he would praise you. he would tell you how smart and beautiful you were. he would let you cum when you got a problem right while he sat under the desk, eating you out. when you got a problem wrong, he would stop, and no amount of begging would get him to continue unless you continued your work.
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lovingjingyuan · 1 month
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Just thinking about Yan Sunday with Layla reader…
Reader is so tired, weak and stressed all the time about her study and thesis… reader’s state could be vulnerable to him since he can grabs her so easily.
Or Cryo Vision? He just need to keep away from you, make you lose memories and lies that you are his lover.
Please, I need Sunday post with Layla reader..
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Yess Ofccc! I love Layla sm she's so pretty and I relate to her a lot, but I ignore my work on purpose. But her design is so pretty when I first saw her she became my favorite immorality like Furina! I Barely sleep now because of tests and exams. Also Thank you for the request <3
Pairing: Sunday x Layla reader
Warnings: Yandere Sunday, a bit ooc, mention of drugging/spike drink, manipulation
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The paper, assignment, and late work kept piling up on you. You can't catch a break even after completing each assignment. Your sleep schedule started getting messy which raised concern from Sunday.
Yet Sunday never liked how you pushed everything aside to focus on your academics. He secretly hated the mentions of your future that’s without his picture in there. How you'll leave the dreamscape in Penacony once you graduate and finish your studies here, yet he kept a happy smile pretending to support your goals.
Recently a big project and essay was coming soon. You need to submit your thesis and get it approved as soon as possible. Writing endless papers piling up anything to get this approved like your life depends on it.
Sunday lent you his office since the library was packed with others trying to get their thesis approved too. Sunday quietly works on his paperwork reading the new bills and policies trying to get passed. Work was keeping you both busy yet you still couldn't help but start dozing off.
Your head and eyes felt heavy falling slightly. Your tired body rested against Sunday's shoulders causing him to look up from his paperwork and towards you. He raised an eyebrow before smiling and caressing your cheeks.
The tea he offered you really seemed to take effect quickly. He couldn't help but to spike your tea before offering it to you. He couldn't stand seeing the eye bags under your eyes when you forced yourself awake even though your body was already weak enough. The way you've been ignoring him and growing distant from him to focus on your studies, he despises the fact you cared more about your academics than him.
He caressed your hand gently. He was glad you were deeply asleep knowing he was soon going to perform the last step to keep you for himself…
You woke up in a room and stretched. You felt more at ease but a sinking feeling appeared in your heart when you realized your thesis and project was due.
You scrambled, throwing the blanket off and seeing Sunday's hands stopping you and shushing you holding you in his arms.
"What's the matter? You looked at peace when sleeping?" He cooed at you brushing his hands through your strands of hair.
You stumbled over your words as you tried explaining your thesis still needed to be submitted before the due date. Sunday's face darkens slightly as he forms a wan smile
"Oh, the one you were working on? A friend of yours came in stating they were your partner for this thesis and were going to submit the thesis for you today," He held your hands in his.
Your face and heart dropped so far below. You sobbed as you scrambled hugging yourself and started ignoring his words. You were furious at Sunday even though you knew it wasn't his fault for falling for this trick. You’ve never told him what you were working on anyway.
"Oh dear, I'm sorry I didn't know," he said in his sweet tongue. Gosh, you really can't hate him but blame yourself.
In the end, the due date passed and it was too late. You sobbed and sobbed as Sunday held you in his arms comforting you. You were so fragile to him. A fragile weak human who needed his and The Harmony's protection, yet mostly for you to rely on him.
As you cried you looked in his pile of trash paper to see your thesis. You pushed yourself off him and grabbed the paper pushing aside his pile of documents and scattering them all over the floor.
Fury arose yet you sat there in complete silence and confusion, "why?" You muttered weakly dropping the paper as you broke out into a sob, "Why Sunday? Why did you lie?"
Sunday wing's on his head tense up as well as his expression as his smiles slowly fade away.
"What do you mean? Your thesis? I thought you meant the project you were working on earlier," He tries to hide his guilty expression by the fact he was caught in a lie.
Before you could comment you were dragged out by the Bloodhound Family. Sunday was going to make sure you never stress over any academics again.
You open your eyes in a white room. You sat up smelling a familiar white room and bed. A hospital? You looked and saw a man. Gray hair, white angel wings on his head, a golden halo floating above his head, and a sweet angelic smile plastered on his face.
"I'm Sunday... Do you remember me, darling?" The man named Sunday introduces himself with a question. Yet even though he felt similar you couldn't break down why.
"I feel like I know you"
"That's great darling" he brushed the hair from your forehead planting a kiss on your head. "I'm your lover, not just your boyfriend."
You didn't stop him but sympathized with his feelings. Sunday was never going to let you leave this dream now. You'll never have to cry or mess up your sleep schedule and health anymore. You were just too fragile to face reality so he’ll insist the dreamscape is the only safe haven for your fragile body. This was the true dream he longed for and he will make sure you love it too. 
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httpisaoki · 29 days
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gf! karina x workaholic! reader
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-> drabble pt. 2 because miss ko na sya (gf! jimin ackk), not proofread!!
wc is 834 words
kinda inspired by die for you bcs i was listening to it while writing this !!
fluff fluff (a bit of crying) fluff (took a break from all the angst hshdufjh)
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in all of your years together, jimin never failed to show her how much she cared for you. jimin would be the best gf ever !! and once she realizes how much of an overachiever you are, she makes it her mission to take care of you !!
under all the stress, your emotions often made you overthink, there were times where you needed her reassurance, her words to assure you that she loved you, even her acts made you wonder. but of course, karina being the loving girlfriend she is, never hesitates in showing her love for you.
and when she got a text from you to come over, she dropped everything to just see you (literally). she was too worried for you to care about the questions of her co-workers.
her nerves were wrecking on the way, and once she reached your shared apartment, she ran as fast as she could.
she opened the door to your apartment, seeing you covered up tightly with a blanket on the couch.
as jimin looked at you, she couldn't help but to grin as she made her way over to you. she sighed softly, "I should have told you to get more sleep." a smile making it's face onto her face as she looks at your stirring figure.
"I should have been with you." jimin mumbled, her grip on you tightening as she buried her face onto your chest.
"How long did you study?" she whispered. Her brows furrowed in worry as she looked at the desk where the books where scattered along with the unfinished essay.
"after my shift at the book store." you sleepily answered, trying to fight the sleepiness.
"You've been overworking yourself again." she pouted. "Did you eat dinner?" she asked, trying to shift the focus onto another topic but you could hear the genuine concern in her voice.
you shook your head, "I fell asleep a few minutes after I texted."
jimin let out a soft, frustrated sound. "Why do you have to push yourself so hard?" she murmured, her tone softening into one of concern. "You could've asked me to come over after work, I would've happily cooked you dinner instead of coming over so late."
you sighed, "I knew you were busy in the afternoon, I didn't want to be a bother,"
"You'll never be a bother to me." jimin murmured, her grip tightening as she pressed her face onto you again. "and I missed you." she pouted once more. "I don't care what I need to put on hold to be with you, you're my priority."
"I want to make you meals." jimin whispered, her thumb tracing the curve of your jaw. "I want to hold you when you feel like you're about to break." she leaned closer to you, her breath warm against your neck.
"I want to love you. I want to love you through every happy or hard moment you're experiencing." she breathed.
her hands stopped moving through your hair as her gaze fell with concern. "I can't stand to see you like this." her voice was soft, but you could hear the pain behind her words. "You are so hard on yourself, and it hurts me." she frowned, her eyes glistening as they welled up with tears.
"Please," she begged, her hand going to the back of your head and pressing it against her chest "Let me take your worries away."
jimin felt your head press against her chest as she felt your warmth spread through her.
she let out a content breath as she pulled you closer to her, wanting nothing more than to hold you and to comfort you.
"I just want you to be okay…" her voice was shaky, as her eyes began to well up with tears.
"I don't know what I'll do if anything bad ever happened to you." she sniffled. "You're too precious to me…"
Jimin closed her eyes at the feeling of your head against her chest. She slowly breathed in your scent, taking in the scent of everything that made you, you.
she held you close to her. She didn't like seeing you like this, she didn't like you overworking yourself to the point where you look more lifeless than a walking corpse.
"Let me love you." she whispered, her voice breaking as a tear trickled down her cheeks. "Let me love you… let me take away all the stress."
jimin felt you relax with every passing second, as she ran her hands through your hair. her body was pressed to yours as she felt your warmth and your breath against her body.
"Let me love you…" she murmured, as she leaned forward, her lips pressing against your forehead. Her breath was warm as she kissed your forehead, leaving a soft trail of kisses down to your jaw.
karina never failed to love you, to show how much you mean to her, how you were always her priority, how she would be willing to die for you.
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beeslibrarycorner · 3 months
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Imagine dating Oliver and Felix but there four years older and they think they know what’s best for you
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A/N: I wrote more on the idea
They adore you, you give them purpose every day.
Felix has someone to coddle and Oliver had someone to adore everyday.
Here is all the details on what it would be like.
When your upset:
Felix likes to hold you and shush you and rock you when you’re upset. Holding you close as he reassures you that what you’re feeling is completely normal and that you should let it out.
Oliver on the other hand coos at you, brushing the tears away and pressing kisses to your damp cheeks. He tells you about all the different things he’s done to feel better when he’s extremely sad.
They bundle you up and keep you away from doing any work for the rest of the day. If they catch you trying to do anything during this special time they will carry you off and keep you where they can see you.
_____________
If your in school and stressed:
Felix would definitely become your rock when everything becomes too much to handle, especially during exam season. He shows you different ways to get work done without experiencing burnout.
Oliver would help with whatever you become overwhelmed with from essays to math he’s there to support you. Sometimes you just need a hand to hold other times it’s a hug, whatever it is Oliver doesn’t mind.
The both of them insist on listening to all your written assignments and essays, telling you that they are so proud of you and smart you are.
“You’re such a clever girl darling, we are so proud of you.
_________________
They like to make sure your dressed appropriately for the weather:
“As cute as you look that cropped shirt is not for the winter honey, you’re going to catch a cold” Felix says to you while walking to the closet.
“How about this one?” He holds up a chunky light pink sweater and Oliver who had just walked into the room gasped. “That would look so much better on you darling, you would be a lot warmer” he said.
“We don’t want you catching a nasty cold” he says walking towards you, Felix following right behind him. They helped you get redressed with Oliver taking the offending crop top off and Felix gently putting the sweater on.
“Now that’s much better” Felix said and Oliver pressed a kiss to your cheek and said, “now we can go out!”
————————-
They set up a bedtime routine for you:
Oliver read somewhere that having a routine before bed helps the body relax before sleep. They become very insistent on sticking to the routine, no matter what you’re doing.
Writing an essay for class? You can finish it tomorrow with there help, it’s bath time.
You’re reading a book? The two of them can read to you when you get into bed.
You just don’t want to go to bed? Well that’s too bad, you’re getting carried off by one of them to start the routine.
Sometimes they say certain phrases to you to get you in the mindset that it’s bedtime:
“Let me help you get ready for bed”
“Let me help you wash your hair lovey”
“Let’s get all the make up off your face.”
“I got your pjs all set and ready to go darling”
“Let’s get some socks on your feet, it’s going to be cold tonight”
“It’s time for bed”
They love to tuck you into their sides and press kisses into your skin and watch you fall asleep.
254 notes · View notes
saelique · 16 days
Text
PLEASE DON’T OVERWORK YOURSELF
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˚。⋆୨୧˚ tw + cw ノvv short, fluff, dazai is useless, uhhh reader is bombard with 2 much homework :< 4 @silverbladexyz ‘m so srry dis took so long 2 make T^T characters : atsushi ・chuuya ・dazai
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ATSUSHI ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁
ᡣ𐭩 ・it’s quite literally six in the morning and atsushi had woke up from his sleep. thinking that you’re still bundled up in your blankets in the dreamworld
ᡣ𐭩 ・ only to see your extremely exhausted and tired figure writing out reports and essays
ᡣ𐭩 ・he gets so so worried for you and immediately fusses
ᡣ𐭩 ・”[n-name] ? why are you up this early ? you didn’t sleep did you ?” he freaks out, only to sigh and usher you to bed to sleep for just a bit until you have to go to school
ᡣ𐭩 ・did help you with your projects as much as possible with the help of yosano and ranpo !
8/10 you ended up getting full marks because of him and the agency’s help ! and now he always writes little notes of encouragement to you on your lunchbox :>
CHUUYA ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁
ᡣ𐭩 ・it’s already three am and chuuya had just arrived home, expecting you to be asleep except that your bedroom light is still open
ᡣ𐭩 ・”[name] ? the hell are you doin up so late ? get to sleep.” he suddenly pops his head into your room, immediately making you scream at the sudden voice and he flinches too from the loud ear pericing scream
ᡣ𐭩 ・obviously, chuuya is irritated at the fact that you’re still awake. doing revision for your assignment and homework at three am when you should be in bed. after all, teenagers need their sleep, don’t they ? that’s what koyou taught him
ᡣ𐭩 ・he doesn’t exactly rushes you off to bed right away. but sighs, grabs a chair, sits down and helps you with what he can. ends up making your favourite drink and pours a cup of wine for himself a few minutes later, rolling his eyes and hides away the bottle when you beg for one sip
ᡣ𐭩 ・the two of you work until four am and then he picks up all of your notes, schedule everything and proceeded to take it to his room to make sure you at least get some rest and not get out of your bed to do more
ᡣ𐭩 ・he gets really worried about the amount of homework you had to do so when it’s the weekend, he takes you out with Elise for some fun
ᡣ𐭩 ・also ends up making a schedule that you have to be in bed by two am. no excuses.
ᡣ𐭩 ・also tries to lessen your workload by helping out with your revision and your studies so that you can relax more
overall, a 7.6/10 didn’t go to school so he couldn’t help much but more points for effort and trying to get you to relax more + the fact that he’s helping you lesson your workload and making sure you get enough sleep
DAZAI ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁
ᡣ𐭩 ・he’s hopeless dont go to him for help please
ᡣ𐭩 ・I swear that man is a bad influence and would only tell you to stop studying etc etc.
ᡣ𐭩 ・”[name] get to sleep. it’s like- two am and you’re still young.” was what he said after he arrived back to the dorm after a long mission. practically pushes you to your room to sleep. also the kind to take u out on the weekend to relax and lets you oversleep !
ᡣ𐭩 ・would get super worried for you tho :(
-100000/10 do not recommend :/
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visionofhope04 · 5 months
Note
Here for the angst of neglected batsis, imagine or hc them of moving out if the house when they are 18 and let's say they meet some spirit and they have their memory wiped and transfer to the marvel universe to restart their life and more happy, then the dc/marvel merge together because of a big threat and batfam sees batsis is heavily pregnant and married to our favorite deadpool charater Colossus?
How would they reached if batsis just can't remember them and keeps on telling them they have the wrong person?
I LIKE THE WAY YOU THINK. Guess who's back!! Sorry it took me so long to get this out, I haven't had the motivation to write until recently. Also OOC warning bc I don't really know him well besides the Deadpool movies. I almost freaked out bc I haven't used the tumblr website in so long and it got updated so I thought I lost all my drafts. So glad they're still here, whew. Not beta read so I'm sorry if there are any mistakes!
---
It's been a year since moving into your apartment and you couldn't be happier. College was going well and you were taking classes you enjoyed. However, you haven't made any friends yet which led you to spend your free time reading or surfing the web. Jason didn't come by much due to having his own life and vigilante things, which you understood. It didn't mean you couldn't be a little bit sad about it though.
Even though you were enjoying your life, you still felt as if there was something missing. You'd been trying to figure out why you had felt this way but nothing came to mind. Any time you tried to brush off the feeling, it came back stronger. You did your best to ignore it and continue on with life, but it was always there, nagging you.
It had been a long day. College was so stressful. Your professors kept hurling projects at you that had deadlines that were practically impossible to meet. You just wanted it to end already and be on summer break. Then, you’d be able to sleep how long you wanted to without the fear of being late for class or forgetting to complete an assignment.
You sat down at your desk and pulled out your laptop, preparing to continue an essay that was due in three days. Suddenly, you began to feel nauseous. Confused, you attempted to ignore the feeling in favor of completing the essay. A few seconds after trying to focus on your laptop screen, you saw a bright light.
"My child, you will be saved from this life." A strangely comforting voice said.
Then everything faded to black.
---
"Hello?!"
A voice. A voice? But you live alone and no one has the spare key to your apartment. You slowly opened your eyes, groaning and quickly shutting them again once a bright light blinded you.
"Oh you're alive, thank God. Can you speak?" Whoever this was seemed to have been panicking before, slightly less though now that you had indicated you were alive. You groan as you push yourself up off of what seems to be concrete. Concrete? You're definitely not in your apartment. You crack your eyes open again, this time with less difficulty, and come face to face with white lenses of a mask. Blinking again, you register that the lenses are attached to a red material with black lines.
"Ah!"
"AH!" The figure yells and jumps back, startled by your sudden surprise.
"What the hell are you supposed to be?" You asked, tilting your head slightly to the side.
"What do you mean? I'm Spiderman." His voice was a bit high pitched, he sounded like a teen at most.
"Spiderman? You've got to be joking. There is no Spiderman. Go home kid, crime fighting isn't a game." Sure, you may be a hypocrite, seeing as you are an ex-assassin who began learning how to kill at around 5, but at least you had training. What did this Spiderman have? From how startled he was, you assumed he had barely been trained, if at all.
“What? I'm literally Spiderman! I'm Queens' hero!"
"Queens, New York?" You thought you'd still be in New Jersey at least.
"Uh yeah. I don't think there are any other places called Queens that have a Spiderman."
"Again, Spiderman? Seriously? You couldn't think of a better name at least?"
"Hey! There's nothing wrong with Spiderman!"
"Sure kid, keep telling yourself that."
He was about to protest when suddenly, someone else dropped into the alley.
"Hey Spidey, who's this lovely lady?" A person in an all red with black suit with two swords on his back and guns strapped to his waist called out. The person seemed to be a male, around 30 years old.
"This 'lovely lady' is very confused. Who are you?" They keep multiplying, and you'd never seen this person either.
"Did you hit your head or something? You've never heard of or seen Deadpool? The most handsomest, most awesomest, funniest, killer crime fighter?"
"Uh nope. Also, I'm from Jersey, how did I end up here?"
"Good question. What's your name?"
"Oh, it's-" You stopped in confusion. "I actually don't remember. It was just at the tip of my tongue but I don't remember."
"Oh great! Amnesia! Just what we need. I'll let you handle her Spidey and I'll go stop some bad guys, 'kay?"
"What! No, don't leave me here!" Deadpool was already sprinting away.
"Let's get you to the base. Colossus and the others will know what to do."
---
They did not, in fact, know what to do. Colossus sent Negasonic and Yukio to contact Professor X, while Spiderman went to contact Tony Stark (I'm still emotionally scarred from Endgame so no, he won't be dead, this is my fanfic and I can keep him alive if I want to) and Deadpool went back out to patrol. You were left alone with Colossus.
Uncomfortable silence sat between you. Just as you were beginning to get antsy, Colossus broke it first.
"Do you remember anything at all?"
"I'm... a college student. I live alone in an apartment in New Jersey, I think. I used to fight crime until... I don't know, it's fuzzy. I'm an ex-assassin who has been training since I was 5. That's all I remember."
"You can remember that but not your name?"
"Look, I don't know okay? I don't know what's happening or why I can't remember anything else. I want to remember who I am, but I can't. And it's so... so frustrating! Your suspicion is understandable, but it is not helping."
"I apologize. This is a stressful situation for you. I will be more considerate."
"Thank you."
---
They could not figure out what happened to you or why you suddenly appeared in Queens one day. Your memory remained fuzzy, so you were stuck. As time passed, you and Colossus grew closer. You became so close that he told you his real name, you became a couple, and you got married. Seven years passed, you were 25 and you'd been trying for a baby. You both felt the time was right and that you'd be able to handle parenting.
Colossus came home from work one day, spent and tired. There you were, waiting for him at the door as usual.
"Hi my love, long day?" You fiddled with the positive pregnancy test behind your back.
"Yes darling, when is it not?"
"Well, we're going to have to figure something out, because there's no way I'll wake up every night to take care of our baby."
He looked confused, then realization hit. "You're..?" He looked so happy and hopeful, you couldn't contain your happiness. A huge smile lit up your face.
"Yes, we're finally going to be parents!" You pulled out the pregnancy test and held it up to him.
He laughed a joyful laugh, tears began to fall from the corners of his eyes as he embraced you. It must've been infectious because you began to tear up too. You remained in each other's embrace for a while, just existing in the moment. Time felt irrelevant as you basked in your shared delight.
---
8 months later, your belly had swollen and grown. Everyone was happy for the both of you. You and Colossus were both eager for your little one to arrive. You'd both decided to wait for birth to find out the gender. It didn't matter to you whether it was a boy or girl, just that they were healthy (gender's a construct anyway). The pregnancy had been going great so far, but this time of easy-going was about to get ruined by your husband's job.
---
Your world had merged with another because of some cosmic threat. Great! Your husband would be preoccupied trying to fix the situation, which meant that you'd be alone. Selfishly, you wished that they could let your husband stay with you so close to your due date, but you knew he had a role to play in saving two worlds.
Seeing your loneliness, Colossus decided to bring you with him to the Avengers' base. He hoped you'd be able to befriend some of the people there. You entered the compound and your eyes were drawn to some men standing beside a set of double doors. They all had suits on, black hair (one guy had two white streaks in his hair) and most had blue eyes, except for one man who had green eyes. He was also noticeably the darkest of the group. They felt familiar to you, especially the man with green eyes. Have you met them before? Who were they?
As your husband was discussing some details about the meeting, you couldn't help but watch the group of men. Not knowing why you thought you knew them annoyed you. As if they could feel your eyes on them (they could), they turned around in sync and locked eyes with you.
Their eyes widened and they all exclaimed your name in various degrees of disbelief. They rushed over to you and your husband protectively stepped in front of you
"How do you know my wife?"
"Wife?!" Some of them shouted. They were beginning to cause a scene.
"You're pregnant." The one with green eyes observed. He seemed to be having some sort of crisis.
All their eyes darted to your belly, making you uncomfortable. You placed your hand over your stomach and attempted to discretely hide behind your husband. This did not go unnoticed by them.
"You don't remember us?" The shortest of them questioned.
"No, I've never met you guys." You were very confused.
The man who appeared to be the oldest said your name. You stared at him as he studied your eyes, presumably to see if you were lying. It made you feel vulnerable and unsettled, couldn't they leave you alone?
"We're your family."
The guy with the white streaks in his hair scoffed. "You didn't treat her like she was family. I was the only one who cared for her when she was younger while you all ignored her and let her suffer. I'm glad she doesn't remember what you all did to her. She's clearly living a much better life without you lot in it."
This was getting more confusing by the second, although you felt there was truth to his words. Did you forget these people? They seemed very convincing if they were lying.
"I'm sorry but I really don't remember you guys. Maybe you have the wrong person?"
"No we don't! You disappeared one day and now that we've finally found you, you're saying you forgot everything!"
"That is enough. Please leave my wife alone, she does not know you, and she does not need the unnecessary stress of trying to remember people she's never met. Do not approach her anymore." Colossus guided you away from the men, who stared longingly at you. The heartbroken expressions they had after your husband's speech would follow you often. Were you sure you'd never met them before?
---
Words: 1,847
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jasminsstories · 3 months
Text
How finals week with Zayne by your side would be…probably:
gn!reader x zayne / fluff; just for fun, don’t take this seriously pls
will try to support you as much as he can, since he knows best how hard studying is
“I told you to start earlier than to cram the material in the last minute. It won’t stick in your long-term memory this way” “Zayne, I don’t care if it sticks in my long-term memory as long as I pass this exam”
“Come here and eat this before continuing”
Basically drags you daily to the kitchen table where he prepared healthy meals
“But why do only I have carrots in my salad?” “Because you need Vitamin B to stay fit for your exams” “Just say you gave all of your carrots to me, because you don’t like them!”
“If you continue to drink so much coffee, I am afraid I will see you in the ER soon because of arrhythmia… and I don’t want that” “Zayne, you can’t just hide my coffee machine!!”
opens the windows regularly to help you concentrate and makes sure you stay hydrated
definitely will try to lure you out for walks to get some steps in
“Didn’t you say you wanted to see the sunset?” “I do, I really want… but I have to get this done today” “Let’s go, you need some Vitamin D” *suddenly lifts you up bridal style* “Hey, let me down!!” *acts like he doesn’t hear you*
the more time passes and the deeper the night gets with every passing minute, you can’t stop yawning and rubbing your heavy eyelids; still you try to focus them on your bright notebook screen
“Go to sleep. You have to get enough sleep to function tomorrow as well” “I can’t afford to sleep now. Sleep can wait, the deadline for my essay won’t”
tries to get you to bed through various methods
first tries to make it less obvious and wants to make you jealous through your plushies
“Then Mr. Snowman will have to cuddle with me today..” “Mhmmm”
But quickly realizes that it doesn’t work and you don’t react to it
for his second try he sneaks up to you from behind and puts his hands on your waist, pressing a lingering kiss on the shell of your ear, whispering a tempting “Come to bed with me”
you try to stay strong though and ignore his attempt with the last endurance you have
the next time he comes up to your desk for his third attempt, he finds you asleep already, your face planted on the surface of your desk
he can’t hold back a chuckle and a fond glow is in his orbs as he gazes at your face; just looks at you for some minutes
carefully picks you up and carries you to bed, trying his hardest not to wake you up; whispers a “Good night, my angel” and gives your forehead a small kiss
tucks you to bed and will lay down beside you to watch you sleep
when you wake up the next morning you begin to panic because you weren’t able to pull the all-nighter you desperately needed to finish on time
“Breathe, Love. Don’t worry. You can do it, I know it”
“I look kinda like a Panda now with my dark circles, don’t I?” “Yeah…kinda. Maybe more like a raccoon”
when you are finally done with all of your exams and your essays, he will pat your head and smile proudly; “Good job, I knew you can do it”
with a relieved sigh you press a loving kiss on his lips
and now you can finally get revenge for the times he teased you
just the brain rot i have in my finals week. i am quite literally losing my marbles right now, so i needed some zayne fluff. did i write this instead of studying…maybe. i need this man so bad. actually working on a smut atm but since its been so long since i wrote one, it’s hard for me to get into the flow right now.
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radioactiveparker · 11 days
Text
The Breakfast Club - Eddie Munson X F!Cheerleader!Reader
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Part Two - Low Tolerance For Dehydration
Chapter Summary - We begin to learn the truth about why these kids are the way they are. (A retelling of The Breakfast Club, written and directed by John Hughes.)
Chapter Warnings - Characters are all 18+ / Strong Language / Illusions to Abuse/ Abusive Relationship / Dysfunctional Families / Kleptomania / References to Religious Beliefs / Sexual References / Drug References / Stereotyping / Angst
Word Count - 7.2k
(Series Masterlist) (Masterlist)
(Part One)
-----
Saturday.
October 25th, 1984.
Hawkins High Library.
10:30am.
~~~~~
After that rather thrilling event courtesy of Eddie Munson and Principal Higgins, the next two hours went on forever.
The grinding of gears, the hum of the electric motor, and the movement of the clock's hands invaded the silence. The second hand made a rapid clicking sound. You counted each one. At twenty-second intervals, the minute hand squeaked. The clock sounds became the percussion for a lullaby that almost lulled you to sleep.
Eddie remained seated next to you, spending the better part of an hour sulking that he had just wrecked the rest of his winter. The rest of the time, he spent scratching markings into the table with his car keys (which you immediately told him to stop out of annoyance. He ignored you, of course) and counting all the pictures he can see in the medullary rays of the wood. In his mind, he connected the lines and dots. Before his eyes, they formed the crude outline of a shapely woman with her legs rudely spread apart. He used the notebook paper to cover it up. He did not want to spend the next five and a half hours with a boner he couldn't get rid of. Especially one given to him by something as ridiculous as an imaginary table lady.
Steve was lazily picking off the fuzz of a tennis ball that he found in the lost and found box behind the front desk, piling it up in a small illuminous heap. The bald patches reminded him of principal Higgin's round, balding head. He picked at it harder, really digging his fingernails into the stringy felt like it had personally offended him.
Nancy was trying to write her paper. Normally, the undisturbed silence would be prime time to work on an essay, but she began staring off into space, her mind wondering. All she had managed to write was a title 'Who Am I?', her name, the date, and the time. Each time she would bring herself back to reality, she would check her watch, then erase the time and write the new one. 
Robin was hunched over, hidden in her hair as she scribbled over her cherry red converse. She wrote whatever came to mind; her name, milk duds, a drawing of the top half of a naked woman, a copy of her fingerprint. She kept going until the red had almost disappeared.
You rested your head in your palms, eyes looking up as you counted the tiles on the ceiling. You got to thirty eight when Eddie nudged you. You opened your mouth to scold him for making you lose count, when he slid a sheet of paper over to you. He'd drawn a tic-tac-toe grid and placed an X in the centre square. You grabbed a pencil and drew a circle in the top right corner, deciding to keep him entertained before he starts causing more trouble. He smiled cutely when you slid the paper back to him. 
The two of you played until both sides looked like a gingham tea towel. Much to your distaste, you lost 38 - 43. Eddie pulled tongues as the victor and you decided then to never play tic-tac-toe with Eddie again; you didn't want his head getting bigger than it already was.
The library door swung open and Principal Higgins stood with a scowling face.
"All right. Who has to go to the rest room?"
All hands shot up. 
Higgins gave a single nod, signalling that everyone could get out of their seats. You groaned in relief when your spine cracked, though you still had pins and needles in your left foot and your butt was numb from sitting on it for too long. The Principal lead you all down the hall to the restrooms, where he unlocked them with a jingling of keys.
"Two minutes for the boys. Three minutes for the girls." He stared at his watch like he was already starting the count down.
"How come they get an extra minute?" Eddie complained, pointing at the group of girl who all had their arms crossed, looking at him like the answer was obvious.
"Try and remember your biology, Munson." Principal Higgins rolled his eyes, still staring at his watch.
"Oh, right. Does that mean Harrington gets another minute?"
Annoyed, Steve pushed through into the bathroom. Eddie followed behind, laughing manically. 
The two of them rarely used the schools restroom, even for Eddie who was kind of a slob, they were too disgusting. Students only ever really used them to hide when skipping classes. The walls were covered in graffiti and a few of the tiles were cracked, and there was always something on the floor that made the bottom of their shoes sticky. They didn't even want to try to guess what it was. Steve stood in front of the urinal and unzipped his jeans. Eddie hopped onto the countertop and fished through his hair to retrieve the cigarette from behind his ear.
"You want one?"
Steve took a peek behind him. "Oh yeah, ten of 'em please. I need to prove I'm a man."
"Whatever man." That was the last time Eddie would offer Steve anything ever again.
He fumbled in his pocket, took out a lighter and lit his cigarette.
Meanwhile, the state of the girls bathroom wasn't much better. The floors were less sticky, but there was always tissue all over the place, and a funny smell in the air.
"Is this a drag, or what?" You looked at your tired eyes in the reflection and started complaining about them to the girls. 
Nancy rummaged through her purse, pulling out perfume bottles, make-up, compacts, brushes; an incredible amount of things that she probably didn't need. Nancy very helpfully let you borrow the make-up out of her bag. You were looking as good as new in no time.
"You want one?" Robin pulled out a pack of spearmint gum and stuck one in her mouth.
You looked at her repulsed. "Robin, you can't eat in the bathroom. What if you get VD of the mouth or something!"
She paused like she hadn't thought about that. She quickly walked to the sink and washed her hands. She grabbed a paper towel to dry them and then used it to open the door. She held the door open with her foot, wadded up the paper towel and made a three pointer into the waste bin. A shot that even Steve would find impressive, even if she did surprise herself making it in the first place. She didn't show that though. 
"You're into washing your hands, but you eat inches away from a live toilet?" 
She gave you an offended glare her, and left the bathroom, letting the door close on you and Nancy. You turned to Nancy and gave her a look that said 'I'm not crazy for thinking that am I?'. 
"I mean that was a little disgusting, but you could have worded it a bit nicer."
She walked out, leaving you wondering whose side she was on.
"I didn't mean to upset you." You called after Robin. "I was just reacting to something I thought was seriously weird. I mean, I'll listen if you needed some one to talk to about it." 
Robin didn't give you the time of day, just rolled her eyes to herself. She didn't appreciate the way you worded your apology; like she was the one with the problem.
"Let's go. Shake it off!" Higgins called into the boys bathroom.
Even with the extra minute you were given, the girls still managed to be done before the boys. Eddie opened the door, smelling strongly of tobacco.
"Where's Harrington?"
"Drowned." Eddie said bluntly.
The Principal crossed to the door and peaked his head in. "Alright, Harrington, c'mon. Lets go!"
Steve made a few final adjustments to his hair, raking his fingers through it to position his chestnut curls perfectly on his head. Principal Higgins dragged him out before he could finish.
~~~~~
11:30am
~~~~~
You laid across three chairs as some sort of make shift bed and tucked your coat underneath your head for a pillow. You had planned to take a nap, but Nancy had decided to sharpen her pencil. The winding and grinding of the sharpener grated your ears. She knew she was making a lot of noise, but she couldn't seem to get a good point on her pencil. She took it out of the sharpener, blew the dust from the tip, and examined it before shoving it back in. She had three quarters left of her pencil.
Steve had a straight leg on the front table and reached over to touch his toes, stretching his hamstring. How he did it in those jeans was beyond you. His little grunts of effort and heavy breaths as he switched legs annoyed you almost as much as Nancy's sharpening. Robin was in her same seat, picking at her black, chipped nails in her lap and chewing her gum loudly out of spite. How you had gone from sitting in hours of silence, to a sudden ruckus when you wanted to sleep was just your luck. 
Eddie had chosen to sit in front of you on the table, ripping out pages of textbooks from the history section. 
Nancy winced at each tear. "What are you doing?"
"What does it look like I'm doing, Princess? I'm vandalising public property." He said it like it was obvious, loudly ripping another page to emphasise his point. "You get off on being stupid, or something?"
"You're such a waste."
Eddie placed the book gently on the table, giving it a few taps for good measure. He sat up straight, hands on his knees like a teachers pet. He nodded sarcastically in agreement. "You're absolutely right. It's wrong to destroy literature. It's such fun."
He jumped down off the desk, kicking up loose pages as he stalked over to his next victim: the card files. He pulls out the entire draw completely and lugged it back over to his spot on the desk. The unexpected slam of it on the table startled you, and you sat up with a huff. There was no way you were getting sleep any time soon.
Nancy scoffed as he began yanking the catalogue cards out and putting them back in a random order, creating a horrible mess for someone to sort out later. She continued to grind the sharpener.
"Big deal." You mocked her, she and the sharpener were really starting to get on your nerves. "It's not like there's anything better to do."
Eddie was impressed. He turned to you. "You grounded tonight?" 
His question threw you off, but you knew there was definitely more to it. "No, why?"
He looked surprised that you weren't, but he didn't know that your parents weren't even aware you were here in the first place. "Reefer Rick is throwing a Halloween party down by Lover's Lake tonight. Wanna come?"
Apparently, all it took was a few games of tic-tac-toe to get into Eddie's good books. There was a part of you that wanted to go. It was another excuse to get away from your parents, but you didn't want to imagine the shit you would get from Carol if she found out you had gone to a party with Eddie 'The Freak' Munson. Then Billy crept back into your mind. Your blood went cold at the thought. You knew he wasn't here, but you expected him to come charging through the doors any second now. You had to make sure he knew you weren't interested in Eddie. You didn't want another repeat of this morning.
"Why would I want to go to that crackhead's place? I'll probably catch a disease."
Eddie looked a little disappointed and a little offended that you had insulted his friend, but he hid it well. So why did you feel kind of bad?
You looked up at him with big eyes. "I mean, my mom doesn't like me going to parties anyway."
"What about your dad?"
"If I do what my mom doesn't want me to it's because my dad says it's okay.  And if I do what my dad doesn't want me to it's because my mom says it's okay. It's like this whole big monster deal. It lasts forever and it's a total drag. It's like any minute: divorce." You hated talking about your parents, but I felt good to get off your chest. Carol and Tommy never cared to ask.
"Who do you like better?"
"Huh?"
"You like your old man better than your mom?"
"They're both screwed." You sighed. You didn't like where this conversation was headed anymore. Nancy had stopped sharpening her pencil and you could feel everyone listening in.
"If you had to pick?"
"I don't know. I mean, they must have loved each other at some point, but I guess I wasn't around for that part. So I don't think any of them really care about me either. They just use me as ammunition in their little wars."
"HA!" Your response had provoked a laugh from Robin. A laugh that let you know she thought you deserved it. She was more offended by that comment in the bathroom than you had thought.
"You're just feeling sorry for yourself." Steve added, shaking out his legs.
You didn't find it very fair that they were ganging up on you all of a sudden. "If I didn't, nobody else would."
"Oh, you're breaking my heart." But Steve didn't sound sincere at all. You weren't enjoying this side of Steve one bit. And it was all because of Billy. 
"Do you get along with your parents?" Eddie sided with you.
"If I say, yes, I'm a real idiot, right?"
"I think you're an idiot anyway. But if you say you get along with your parents, you'll be a liar, too."
"You know something, I've just about had it with you. If we weren't in school, man, I'd wail all over you. They'd have to pick you up with tweezers."
Eddie didn't seem fazed. Eddie got threats like this all the time, it wasn't anything he hadn't already heard before. 
"I don't really get along with my parents." Nancy piped up, trying to get the boys attention away from each other so there wasn't a brawl in the middle of the library.
"Yeah right, you're every parent's wet dream."
"That's the problem." She paused, you saw her eyes glaze over then looked at you. "I don't think my parents ever loved each other either."
Everyone was silent, looking at her like they were waiting for her to burst into tears. She regretted bring it up.
"They must have married for some reason?" Steve asked. Whether it was because he was being nosey, or he was concerned for her, you couldn't tell.
"My mom was younger. My dad was older, but he had a cushy job, money, came from a good family. So they bought a nice house at the end of the cul-de-sac and started their nuclear family."
"Screw that."
"Yeah, screw that."
"I could see you not liking them for making you wear those kind of clothes, but, shit, what else would you be doing if you weren't busy making yourself a better citizen?" Eddie clearly hadn't read the room.
"Why do you have to insult everybody?" Eddie was really pushing Steve's limits. You noticed it happened especially when it came to Nancy.
"I'm being honest, asshole. I'd expect you to know the difference." He said it like he had had a similar argument with Steve in the past.
Nancy raised her middle finger at him. 
"Whoa, obscene gestures from such a pristine girl."
"I'm not that pristine." Nancy argued, though she regretted it almost immediately.
She cleared her throat and make her way back to her seat. 
"Are you a virgin?" She caught Steve's eye, they shared a look, but Eddie missed it. "I'll bet you a million dollars that you are."
"Would you take that bet, Robin?"
"Not really."
"That's the last time I call you 'Robin', Buckley."
He continued. "Have you ever been felt up? Over the bra, under the blouse, shoes off...hoping to God your parents don't walk in?" 
Nancy was getting upset. "Do you want me to puke?"
"Over the panties, no bra, blouse unbuttoned, Calvin's in a ball on the front seat past eleven on a school night?"
You squeezed your thighs together. His voice was deep and masculine, sending you off into an alluring day dream. You found yourself in the back seat of a car, a strong man towering over you, rough hands caressing your soft skin. He takes off your bra, exposing your breasts to the cold air of the night, nipples hardening. He's groping them, kissing them, loving on them. Your moaning and he's trailing his lips lower. Your hands thread themselves in his brown, wavy hair. He's pulling your panties down with his teeth, looking up at you with those big brown eyes of his. And suddenly you were in the back of his van, pulling off his patched, demin jacket until he's leaning over you completely naked. He put his lips to your ear, whispering --
"Hey, why don't you leave her alone!" Steve breaks you out of your imagination.
"You gonna make me?"
"Yeah."
"You and whose army?"
"Just me and five of my fingers. I hit you. You hitting floor. Anytime you're ready."
Eddie realised that Steve was being serious, but doesn't believe he is quite capable of making good on his threat. 
"Yeah? You want a black eye to go with that split lip? You couldn't fight Billy Hargrove, what makes you think you can beat me?"
Your chest tightened at his name and your eyes darted to the door. They stayed shut. It calmed you a little, but your heart was still beating against your ribcage. You placed a hand there in case it burst out. You wondered how Eddie knew about the fight at the party, you hadn't seen him there. But then again, word travels fast around Hawkins High. Your breathing became heavy. All this arguing was making you dizzy. You could do without a repeat of last Thursday.
"Try me."
"Eddie." You pleaded him not to retaliate, swallowing down your pride for a second of peace.
He looked at you, and suddenly Eddie was not in the mood to fight Steve. The fear in your eyes scared him a little. You were serious about them not fighting. But luckily for you, Eddie knew when to stop. Besides, there were ladies present, and he was a gentleman.
To some extent.
 "Whatever man, I'm not getting into this with you."
"Why not?"
"Why not?" He paused. He wasn't going to tell Steve he did it for you. "'Cause I'd kill you. It's real simple, you'd die and your fucking parents would sue me and It'd be a big mess and I don't care enough about you to bother. So drop it."
"Chicken."
"You know, you should see a doctor. I think those steroids are frying your brain."
Steve just laughed him off, believing that he had scared Eddie into yielding and he was just giving one last dig to preserve his pride. Eddie looked a Nancy, but she was already staring at him. 
"What is it that makes you act like such a fool?"
"I'm not getting enough vitamin B."
Steve fumed. He wanted his fist to connect with that smartass mouth of his. "Let's end this right now. You don't talk to her...you don't look at her and you don't even think about her! You understand me?"
"I'm trying to help her." He said it like it was as plain as a pikestaff.
"Help me?" Nancy was insulted. "Why don't you work on yourself?"
"I did. I finished last Tuesday. Now I'm working on the rest of the world." He pointed at Steve, who looked about ready to swing. "I could help you, big boy."
"Spare me."
"I can help a lot of people, all they have to do is ask nicely."
"I'll kill you." Steve threatened with a clenched fist.
Eddie looked unmoved. He heard threats like that at least five times a day. "Well, I should just let you and everyone else who wants to kill me fight for the privilege."
There was a rumbling from beyond the library door. In a flurry of panic, everyone got themselves into position, acting like they hadn't moved an inch away from their seats. Eddie sat next to you again, accidently kicking your foot under the table. You kicked it back in annoyance. He did it again, only on purpose this time. 'What a child' you thought. You put your coat on the back of your chair and sat up straight, expecting Principal Higgins to come storming in.
Everybody visibly relaxed when Carl, the janitor, came rumbling in with his music playing quietly from his radio, dragging his cart behind him. He had a face you didn't quite know how to take; he looked friendly enough, but could turn at the snap of your fingers. He was skinny and stood at a height of 5"8, with a limp of a man who worked hard for his living. He smiled everyone, but the only one who seems the acknowledge him was Robin. She returned the smile and gave him a small wave, in hopes of being nice but not letting the others see. He went into the librarians office and grabbed the waste basket.
"Hey Sweetheart, your dad's here." 
You gave him an unamused smile and kicked his shin under the desk once more.
Carl came out of the office and dumped the basket on his cart. He left his cart in the main library and walked down the pathway to grab another trash bin at the back of the room. 
"Hey, Carl?"
Carl paused in surprise that any student here, with the exception of Robin, would talk to him. He turned around, but Eddie still remained facing the front, putting his back to him. 
"How does one become a janitor."
Everyone supressed a giggle, even Steve despite his dislike for Eddie. Only Robin remained silent. She didn't find it very funny.
"You want to become a janitor?" Carl raised an eyebrow.
"No I just wanna know how one becomes a janitor because Steve here, is very interested in perusing a career in the custodial arts."
Steve stopped laughing at that. Carl scratched his head. He knew that they were making fun of him. But Carl wasn't one someone should mess with. He turned off his radio, pulled off his rubber gloves and shoved them in his back pocket.
"You guys think I'm just a lowly janitor. Some fucking untouchable peasant. Maybe so, but following a broom around after shitheads like you for five years, I've learned a few things. I read your notes, I go through your letters. I listen to your conversations. I am the eyes and ears of this institution. I know where you are now and I know where you'll be in the future."
Everyone exchanged worried looks as Carl moved to tower in front of Eddie. "You got ten years, max. Drugs. Rundown trailer in West Texas. Whore wife takes the baby, you shoot a fatal dose. Probable? Maybe not. Possible? Think so."
He turned to you. "You get married to a guy with lots of material success. Corporate position. Big bucks. Black Jag. You have three kids, nobody gives a shit. You get divorced and have a big fuckin' heart attack at thirty-eight, thirty-nine."
Steve was next. "District sales manager for a golf club manufacturer. Shitty little compact company car, twenty-two five a year and a wife as big as a boxcar."
Finally, Nancy. "Six face-lifts and two boob jobs by forty and a husband with more girlfriends than anniversaries."
He stepped back and put on his gloves. The stunned reaction on everybody's faces made him smile. "But I'm just a janitor." He shrugged.
And with that, he grabbed his cart, wheeled it around and headed out. He paused at the door and looked at the clock. 
"By the way, that thing's twenty minutes slow." He winked as he left and everybody groaned. 
~~~~~
12:30pm
~~~~~
Everybody was bored out of their skulls after the shock of Carl's speech had worn off. You took the time to think about what he had said. He had tried to put a downer on you, but the life he had predicted for you sounded like paradise, compared to now. Even if you did only have twenty years left to live. As crazy as it sounded, it gave you a bit of hope. There was a chance that you could work up the courage to leave Billy and meet someone nice, or at least wealthy. You had never given any thought about having kids, especially not with Billy, but now, maybe you could see yourself with a kid. You'd want a boy, and he'd look just like his father; Curly brown hair, big russet eyes, and a toothy smile. What would you name him? Would you name him after his father? Maybe Michael, or Christopher, James. Edward? You liked that name. 
Your eyes flashed to the door as it opened. Principal Higgins strolled in with a frown of his face, even though no one had done anything to upset him yet.
Yet.
"Thirty minutes for lunch." He declared.
"Excuse me Sir, I think the cafeteria would be a more suitable place to eat lunch."
"I don't care what you think, Harrington." 
Steve sunk back into his seat.
"Uh, Dick?" Eddie cleared his throat. "Sorry, Richard. Will milk be made available to us? Someone like Steve could choke to death on a dry sandwich."
"I have a low tolerance for dehydration, Sir." Robin added.
"I've seen her dehydrated, Sir." Steve sat up again. "It's pretty gross."
You wondered if that was true, or if he was just playing along. The things he said about her, you wondered if they knew each other. Probably not, you brushed off the thought. They were on complete opposite ends of the spectrum, there was no way they knew each other.
Principal Higgins scowled.
Eddie stood and raised his hands like he was trying to calm a wild animal. "Relax, I'll get it."
"Ah,ah,ah. Grab some wood there, Munson. You think I was born yesterday? You don't fool me for one minute. I'm not having you roaming these halls."
Eddie plopped back into his seat with a defeated sigh. It was worth a shot.
"You." He pointed at Steve. 
He eyed up the other students, skipping over Eddie as he decided who else was most suitable to leave. You sank into your seat. You did not fancy having some alone time with Steve. Steve stared directly at the Principal before darting his eyes to the right where Nancy was sat, signalling for him to pick her. She sat up to make herself more evident. 
Higgins ignored them and pointed a finger at you. "And you. There's a soft drinks machine in the faculty lunch room."
You broke into a cold sweat. This was going to be the most awkward ten minutes of your life. Either Steve was just going to pretend you didn't exist, or he was going to absolutely grill you. You hoped for the former. 
As you reluctantly got out of your seat, Steve held out a hand to the others for money. Nancy took out a change purse from her bag and handed him fifty cents. Robin does the same with the loose change in her jeans pocket. Eddie fished through his coat pockets. He found some assorted change, crumpled gum wrappers, some loose tobacco and a screw. He handed it all to Steve. 
Steve made his way out, not even looking to see if you're following him. You do, of course, but you lagged behind him, not feeling particularly comfortable being alone with him. You counted your steps as you walked, fiddling with the delicate chain around your neck. It was a simple design: just your name written with gold, cursive lettering. But it was the only jewellery you never took off. Your parents had bought it for you when you had started cheerleading at eight years old. It was a reminder of when life was much more simple, when you believed that your parents actually loved each other, that they loved you. 
A minute passed and you already couldn't stand the silence. You dreaded it, but you knew this would probably be the only opportunity you would get to hash out your grievances.
"Why do you hate me?" A forward start, but at least it's a start.
"You know why."
"Look, what Billy did wasn't my fault --"
"Of course it is. If you hadn't been there in the first place he wouldn't've showed up."
"Hey, I didn't even tell him I was going to that stupid party. He was there anyway. If you hadn't come over and butted into our argument, maybe you wouldn't have that split lip."
"My parties aren't stupid."
"Is that seriously all you took from that?"
"No..." He paused. After hearing your side of the story, he was beginning to feel like a fool. "What were you guys even arguing about?"
You sighed. "Billy and I had plans to go to this drive in movie theatre. I don't think he wanted to watch a movie though, I think he was just hoping to get lucky." The two of you had stopped walking. Steve looked at you intently, encouraging you to carry on. You shifted on your feet. "If I'm being completely honest I didn't really want to go, but then Carol asked me to go to your party and I took it as an excuse not to go with Billy. I knew he would be angry if I cancelled our plans last minute, so I told him I was sick. Biggest fucking mistake of my life."
"So you went to the party and Billy caught you out in your lie."
"Yeah. Turns out one of his friends had asked him to go but he'd declined 'cause we were going on a date. He accepted the offer once I'd cancelled our plans."
Steve started walking again. You followed next to him this time. "I know Billy is a bit of a shitbag, but why didn't you want to go on your date? I mean, it seemed like a good time."
There was no such thing as a 'good time' with Billy. He had his moments, sure, but he was as cranky as a wet hen. Time with him was like trying to swim with rocks on your back. He sucked all the fun out of everything until you started drowning. You didn't tell Steve that though. 
"I just wasn't in the mood to be around him, is all." You brushed him off. "But he's bringing it up all the time, and were arguing all of the time. Even in school."
"Is that why you're here today?"
His question made you pause. He stopped a couple of steps ahead of you and turned around when he saw you weren't next to him anymore. You played it off like you were itching your leg and jogged up to him. The two of you made it to the teacher's lounge. 
The first thing you noticed was that it was very brown. The floor and ceiling had the same white speckled tile that ran throughout the entire school, but everything else was just ... brown. Brown wallpaper, brown leather sofas, brown table, brown countertop. Even the fridge was brown. The vending machine was in the far corner.
"Why are you here?" You asked Steve, hoping he hadn't realised that you hadn't answered his question. 
"Me? I'm here because my father and my coach don't want me to blow my ride." He started feeding the change into the machine. "They think my intensity's for shit. You see, I have a different set of standards. I get treated different because Coach thinks I'm a star. So does my old man. But you know what? I don't care. I'm not a star because I want to be a star, I'm a star because I got good legs and reflexes. I'm like a racehorse. That's about how involved I am in what's happening to me."
You nodded, but you had a suspicion that that wasn't the whole truth. "Yeah, so why are you really here?"
Steve was annoyed that he hadn't managed to persuade you. "Forget it."
You studied the set of lockers on the other side of the room. You walked over to them out of curiosity, trying your luck with one of the doors. To your surprise it opened. 
Steve caught you out of the corner of his eye. "You really shouldn't be doing that."
Inside lay a set of keys attached to a green Hawkins High lanyard, a pack of cigarettes, a 'thank you teacher' mug, and a Prince's Purple Rain album on vinyl. Steve came up behind you, looking inside and letting the soda cans thunk loudly at the bottom of the vending machine.  
"This is a teacher's stuff?" He asked surprised.
"Yeah. Does this mean that they're actually human?" You laughed together for the first time.
Daringly, you pocketed the pack of cigarettes in your cardigan pocket and took the record. 
"Whoa, whoa, whoa. No, put them back." 
"C'mon Steve, when are you ever going into the teacher's lounge again? Besides, it'll give us something to do while were stuck in that god damned library."
You shut the locker door and brushed past him. You gathered up the soda cans, giving Steve his share to carry and made your way back to the library.
"It was pretty strange looking at teacher's personal shit, huh?" You said, examining the purple record sleeve.
Steve shrugged, he'd seen stranger things. "I went over to Coach's house for dinner once during the summer. It was really weird to see how he lives."
He paused, anticipating a question, but you just looked at him to carry on.
"His wife was fat. And one of his kids was in a wheelchair. It was kinda sad. He was a nice kid."
"If he invites you over to his house, why does he shit on you?" 
"He and my old man are working to get me a scholarship. It's not an economic issue. Scholarships make the newspaper. They think I have a shot at a full ride. They think I deserve a Big Ten school."
You simply nodded and walked through the library doors. The others were gathered in the corner by the comfy chairs. Eddie was holding a book opened to a page displaying a man with elephantitus to the nuts like he was reading children a bedtime story.
"How do you suppose he rides a bike?"
The clattering of soda cans on the table drew their attention away. They all walked over to grab a can. Before the others could take one, Eddie reached out and shook one furiously.
You look at him like he was crazy. Perhaps he was. "That's going to spray all over you."
"Not necessarily."
He put the drink back with the others and moved the cans around so than no one would know which was was shook up. 
"You're such a dingus." Robin bravely took a can first.
Everyone else followed before taking their seats and pulling out their lunches. You simply took out an apple, loosing your appetite after seeing a man with elephantitus to the nuts. You noticed Eddie didn't have any lunch as he surveyed everyone else's. 
"Where's your lunch?"
"You're wearing it." He winked. 
You curled your lip in disgust, but felt about as red as your apple. 
"You're nauseating." Nancy complained, opening her lunch.
"Look who's talking. You don't care what you put in your mouth." He eyed Nancy's lunch like she had just shown him a plate full of snails. "What is that?"
"Sushi."
"Sushi?"
"Rice, raw fish, and seaweed."
"You wont accept a guys tongue in your mouth, but you'll eat that?"
She scoffed impatiently. "Can I eat?"
"I don't know, give it a try."
The room went silent as everybody watched Steve pull out his lunch from a large brown grocery bag; three sandwiches, a family-sized bag of chips, an apple, a banana, a bag of cookies and a carton of milk.
"Are you really going to eat all that?" Robin asked in shock.
"No, I'm only going to eat half."
"What are you going to do with the other half?"
"Shoving it up Eddie's ass."
How charming. He reached for his can and everybody shrunk away, thinking it might explode. He cracked the tab. 
Nothing happened.
Robin took out a sandwich covered in saran wrap. She unwrapped it and pulled the bread apart, starting to work on it like a mad scientist. She tossed the meat away, blindly whipping it to the side. It slapped on the wall and stuck there. She reached into her sweater pocket and pulled out a bag of chocolate M&M's. She tore the bag open and dumped all of it on the buttered bread. Out of her coat pocket she pulled out a little baggie filled with Captain crunch cereal and sprinkled it over the M&M's. She closed the mess of a sandwich and took a huge bite. She noticed that everyone was watching her. 
"You are bizarre." Eddie thought Steve's lunch was bad.
She reached for her Pepsi to wash it all down. She put it to her mouth and popped it. The soda sprayed cleanly into her mouth. 
After the fizz was gone, she smirked at Eddie. "Nice try, dingus."
"What do you have?" He turned to you, watching take a bite into your apple.
You handed your bag over to him, rather than speaking with a full mouth. He started pulling things out. He pulled out a sandwich, a thermos of soup, which he opened and give a big whiff, and a bottle of water.
"Well Sweetheart, this is a very nutritious lunch. All the food groups are represented. Did your mom marry Mr. Rodgers?"
Eddie stood so he was front and centre of the room, all eyes on him. 
"This is my impression of life at our darling Sweetheart's house." He gestured to you and your face flushed.
"Hello, dear. I'm home from the coalmine." Eddie impersonated your father.
Eddie quickly played your mother. "Oh, hello, sweetie pie. Dinner's almost ready. I'm serving stuffing instead of potatoes." 
"My favourite!" 
His voice turned high and shrill, playing you. "Hi, Dad! Yippee, you're home! I danced in a skimpy skirt in front of hundreds of people today. I went to church and I wrote Grandma a letter. Now can I have a pen pal?"
"Dear, isn't our daughter swell?" 
Quiet and motherly. "Yes Dear, isn't life swell?" 
Eddie mimed your mother kissing your father, then father kissing mother, and then your father punching your mother in the face. Suddenly it was not so funny anymore. 
Your eyes were wet. You hated how much that hurt. It wasn't his words that hurt you, it was how much you wished it were true. 
You bravely stood up. "No, it's more like --"
"Dad? Is it okay if I shoot heroin?"
You lowered your voice, playing your father. You held an imaginary newspaper in your hands, not taking your eyes off it and pretending that you weren't paying attention. "If it'll make you happy, pumpkin." 
You extended your fingers and blew on them, doing your mother and her fresh nail polish. "What are you talking about, Frank?! How's she going to wear her Sunday dress with holes in her arms? We are going to church aren't we?
"It's okay. Never mind. I won't be a junkie." You said sadly.
"Now, just wait a minute. If you want to be a junkie--" 
"I'm not going to be the only woman at the congregation with a junkie daughter. Now what about church?" Your mother said.
"Go by yourself!" Said your father.
"With pleasure! I'm taking Y/N." 
"Over my dead body!"
"I love her more than you do!"
"Go to hell!"
Everyone looks at you with a hint of sympathy. Even Eddie.
"Do you wish they'd get a divorce?" He asked.
"No."
"Why not?" 
"I'd have to live with one or the other. And I don't know which one is worse." You laughed, but there was no humour behind it.
"Whose next?" Eddie ask, like he didn't already know he was going to single out Steve. Eddie pointed at him. "You're next."
"Yeah, no thanks."
"You an orphan?"
"I don't need to dump on my parents. Especially when they're not here to defend themselves." Eddie gave him a look like he was being chicken.
"What about your family?" Steve asked Eddie. He wanted him to have a taste of his own medicine.
"Mine? Real simple, pal."
He climbed onto the table, really setting the stage and getting himself into character. His eyelids lowered and his body moved clumsily, like he was drunk. "Stupid, worthless, no good, goddamn freeloading, son of a bitch, big mouth, know-it-all, asshole, jerk!"
He stands up straight, crossing his arms and raising the pitch of his voice. "You forgot ugly, lazy and disrespectful." His mother said.
"Shut up bitch!" He smacked the air, hitting his invisible mother. He yelled it so loud you were worried Higgins was about to storm through the door.
As his father, he threw a punch. Eddie dramatically dropped from the table and fell to the ground. He stood up, brushed himself off and took a bow. The show was over. 
"Then they make me work to pay off the dentist for the teeth he busts."
"Is that for real?" Nancy looks like she's going to start crying for him. 
"You wanna come over some time?"
She didn't want to believe that something like that could happen to anyone. Even someone as vexing as Eddie. Nancy decided then to never complain about her parents again.
"That's part of your image. I don't believe a word." Steve brushed him off. His re-enactment hadn't moved him at all. 
You wondered if he was right. You had been so truthful about yours, you would feel ashamed if he had lied about his.
Eddie actually looked hurt. "You don't believe it, huh?" 
He whipped off his red shirt and pulled up the sleeve of his black t-shirt. He shoved his arm in Steve's face, displaying a grotesque purple scar. Steve recoiled away from it, but Eddie forced him to look at it. You subtly tugged at the sleeve of your cardigan. You could feel the bruises of Billy's fingers purpling on your wrist.
"You believe that? It's about the size of a cigar." Eddie spoke through gritted teeth. "That's what you get in my house when you spill paint in the garage."
Eddie was breathless with anger. His muscles were tensed up so tightly he thought he was going to give himself a full-body cramp. He needed something to calm himself down. Luckily, he knew just the thing.
~~~~~
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