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#dyslexic student
akaessi · 7 months
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am I good at linguistics? No
But I’m doing it anyways
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thelegendofstudy · 11 months
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There are times in college where you just have to cut yourself a break.
I have multiple learning disabilities and physical disabilities. Currently, I have four Cs on my transcript. Four. I hear my neurotypical acquaintances and friends talk about never having below a B- and saying how low their grades are. I know people lie about their grades so I take everything with a grain of salt, but it still hurts when you feel like you're behind your peers.
I'm happy to say I've embraced "Cs get degrees" and I've never failed a class and y'know what, that's sometimes all I can ask for. Even with all the accomodations in the world, I'd still have auditory processing issues, difficulties writing/reading, and mixing up math and chemical equations. The best thing for me would be to either get rid of all tests(impossible) or make every test open note/open book(impossible) so I just try my best.
Getting through academia while ND and physical disabled is difficult. And it's vital to know that sometimes you can only reach good enough.
I feel like on studyblr and in academia you're always comparing yourself with other people, and that's not fair. So a reminder to all my followers, cut yourself a break.
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northlight14 · 8 months
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@ everyone going back to school, especially all my fellow neurodivergents and specifically those with special interests or hyperfixations, there is no wrong way of revising! It doesn’t matter if it seems “unusual” to other people, if it works for you, use it!!
I just finished collage and because of my funky brain, I can have a difficult time remembering information, especially things like names and specific details. And considering a lot of the classes I was taking required me to remember a lot of different theories, that was proving to be a bit of an issue. Cut to when we were getting up to our A level mocks and my English literature teacher at the time starts going round the entire classroom asking everyone how they revise one by one. Everyone’s saying the usual stuff of “I reread the material” “I use flash cards” “I make notes” etc. All stuff I’ve tried to do in the past but just never worked for me because my brain functions differently. She then gets to me and asks how I revise and I explain that I’ll try and make connections in my brain between the thing I’m studying and whatever my interests are. I’ve always found this to be useful for me because it keeps my brain interested in what I’m studying by using my special interests and also requires me to actively think about and analyse what I’m studying so that I can make those connections. However, my teacher just looked at me with the most condescending smile on her face and asked “does that really work?” Obviously I got uncomfortable and said “yeah it does” but she then proceeded to ask “do you do anything else?” And making it out as if I was an idiot for doing something like that and just making me feel embarrassed in front of the class. Eventually, I just said one of the generic answers everyone else had so she’d leave me alone.
However, I’m petty as hell so when it came to the mocks I used that method to memorise one of my theories for media studies. Cut to that theory being the one that stuck in my head the most, just proving to me that this method my teacher decided “doesn’t work” without actually listening to me, does in fact work for me. Fast forward to my actual A Levels and I used that method again. Ace Attorney had just become my new special interest/hyperfixation so I used that for a lot of the theories. Specifically, one of the theories I linked it to “The Steel Samurai”, a tv show within the Ace Attorney universe. Then when I went into my exam I saw a theory question. For those who don’t know, for theory questions they just ask you to apply a theory to a specific text but they only name the theory, they don’t tell you what the theory includes. While at first wasn’t sure what the theory was and went to answer another question, I then quickly remembered “the steel samurai” and even wrote down “the steel samurai” next to the question as a reminder for myself for when I went to answer it and it helped a lot as a prompt. Once again, the method my teacher decided “didn’t work” was the very reason I was able to answer that question and passed my media exam
Again, it doesn’t matter what other people’s opinions are on how you revise, if it works for you, please use it! You know your brain better than anyone else. Do whatever helps you understand the material and keeps your brain engaged
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opens-up-4-nobody · 6 months
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If accommodations no longer help you, I'm curious at what point they stopped being helpful.
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b00knerd1o1 · 6 months
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Whenever anyone asks me for an example of ableism in the school system, I always use one from my own life.
When I was in the fourth grade, I was diagnosed with dyslexia. The private school I was going to at the time gave me accommodations and enrolled me in a special ED program where I left class about once a week to meet with a specialist to practice my spelling and handwriting.
The following year, we moved, and I went to a public school, but they decided that because my grades were high, I didn't need any accommodations or help. I failed spelling test after spelling test, and no one stepped in.
I felt awful about it. I've always had an unhealthy relationship with academics, and I struggle not to base my self-worth on the grade I see on the paper. I'd failed many spelling tests in first through third grade, but I wasn't forced to take any at the previous school due to my accommodations. Now, here I was again with failed test after failed test.
Nothing changed that entire year, and I moved on to sixth grade. At my school, sixth graders stayed at the elementary school but had different teachers for Math, English, and Science so they could ease into middle school.
About midway through the year, my math teacher decided they were done with me writing p's instead of nines and told me they would grade any assignment I turned in with a P as wrong. My grade in their class dipped for a little bit, but after a while, I was able to train myself to always write nines. I thought that would be the end of it until my English pulled me aside to talk about how my writing skills had taken a dip because I was only writing q's. I was so angry at myself. It felt like such a stupid mistake.
I didn't put two and two together at the time. Maybe a week later, both teachers talked to me separately and told me they realized what had happened. My math teacher stopped grading any assignments with a p wrong, and my English teacher helped me work on writing my p's and q's properly. They never admitted they made a mistake and never apologized.
If I had received any kind of accommodation, the problem would never have happened in the first place. They said I didn't receive accommodations because I was performing so well I didn't need them, but when my grades slipped as a direct result of my disability, no one thought to put accommodations in place. My teachers were understanding, and my grades returned to the place they were before the incident, but I still went through two weeks of stress and anxiety for no reason.
To this day, I have still never had official accommodations in any school other than the first one. I do a couple things to help myself, like use a wide-ruled notebook instead of the college rule, and none of my teachers have ever pushed back on it, but there is always the chance that one of my teachers won't be. I'm also nervous that if I ask for accommodations now, I'll be met with the same response as before and be questioned as to why I never got them sooner.
Even if someone doesn't look like they are struggling, even if they have high grades, that is no excuse not to deny them accommodations.
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pocketramblr · 1 year
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Okay this is very frustrating and I am sorry for you but that new UA is a hell school AU is just a wonderful idea. Aizawa wandering if all his students are insane and two months into the school year, he finally gets their files and discovers that they simply have insane circumstances???
Problem Child got his quirk on the day of the exam? Bakugou is described as a model student while Midoriya is described by Aldera as a troublemaker? Bakugou got almost killed by the Sludge villain? And so on?
This is the real reason Aizawa has them do the quirk apprehension test on the first day- because he genuinely can't know what their quirks before that because some little rat was too busy writing a new first day of school speech instead of getting him his student files.
He's prepared for Tenya, knows what sort of fuel stock is needed, and is grumbling about not knowing that Sato would need sugar until now, because they probably aren't going to be able to get a shipment until next week. He was aware about Todoroki having an older brother who literally burned to death and was planning on getting Hound Dog to talk with him after he settled for a semester so they could get him to start using fire by the end of the year, but then Midoriya got to him faster at the SF, so that's good, and- oh, the student files just got here, and only because they needed them for internships. Wait, what do you mean Midoriya was registered quirkless until February?! Hell. He's going to have to completely invent new accommodations for that, good thing he has a week off- and Midoriya came back all figured out? Fine. Great. Doesn't feel like a waste of energy and time at all.
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syaraan · 5 months
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Dyslexia moment from today
So I was reading a physics thing, an electricity physics thing, an electrical current in circuits complete with diagrams physics thing. And when I was reading this physics thing I came across the word "squirrel"... except, i did not. I read half way through the paragraph before i realized that - even in physics textbooks - squirrels carrying rods are not typical.
So I looked back at the start of the paragraph, and there it said... "current"
Now I may constantly switch up numbers and letters, and I may have only learnt that apples and applies were different words at age 13, but I have never in my memory miss read "current" as "squirrel". I can't even remember the last time I thought about squirrels. It has been at least 4 years since I have seen one.
Why did it take me half a paragraph to notice???
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robbie-roo · 6 months
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Marsupials (overview)
Hello, desktop Tumblr it is time to talk about mammals again >:)
I can feel my roommate watching me over my shoulder...
also wow using grammerly on desktop is really annoying! but I can use titles???? woo!
I think I regret choosing desktop for this.... oh well! lets get into it
Ok so we left off talking about monotremes and I will have a post about their bones at some point I pinky swear I just need to figure out what I want to talk about. ok anyways today let's see what should we talk about hmm.... drumroll please.....
Metatheria!
So metatheria are the marsupials of the animal kingdom you've heard of a lot of them and I'm sure you know their calling card- pouches. but we are getting INTO it tonight guys heheheh
ok so some Latin facts- we know that protheria (monotremes) means 'first beast' but metatheria means "in-between beasts"
the first/oldest protheria we know about is the sinodelphys they are found mostly in Australia and South America due to a lack of placental mammals during the whole continental drift business.
ok so what makes a marsupial a marsupial? well let's get into a few relatively universal traits amongst them (remember folks nature doesn't read biology books so some of these are special or gone in certain groups)
so bones (BONES!!!!)
so the pelvic and jaw bones in a metathere are different than in eutheres (we will talk about them next teehee) they do not have a rounded angular process and it's instead spiky (here's a picture of a possum jaw for reference)
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There are also extra openings in the back of the pallet and a smaller brain case their teeth are funky too! They have an extra set of incisors.
so I mentioned their funky pelvic bones but what I mean by that is their reproduction is wacko. so like monotremes they have a cloaca and not a vaginal and anal opening. this is why they're "in-between beasts" they have traits that are similar to both ends of the spectrum.
speaking of reproduction their cloaca is subdivided and they will hold eggs internally with a specialized membrane. this membrane surrounds the fetus more than an egg would with a floating placenta surrounding the fetus unlike in us this placenta isn't attached to a uterine horn. Their reproductive structure is also loopy... I'm not kidding look at this shit- this is a kangaroo reproductive structure
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WEIRD! They have a pseudovaginal canal which is only there for birth and is part of the cloaca also keep an eye on that second uterus ill get into that more with kangaroos specifically
and it's only in females male reproductive structure is normal
their young are always born underdeveloped. they have an extended lactation period because of this with that special changing milk we mammals have that will deliver the perfect amount of nutrients needed.
so the babies are born super early but those ungrateful little turds have the immediate responsibility to get THEMSELVES into their mother's pouch. Mamma can't help you do everything little Joey.
I need to expand on this because it's fucking INSANE ok so like I said they are underdeveloped and I mean like VERY underdeveloped as in they do not have a full heart or brain yet!!!!! their lungs are just sacks and they don't have a jaw but they DO have a tongue and arms that they use to pull along their mother's hair to get to the milk. again- mama ain't helping you.
Ok i'm ending this here only because this is just general overview stuff and then I'm gonna get into specific species and families next staring with kangaroos :)
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banannabethchase · 9 months
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I want my students to see a world champion for being cheered for having ADD and RSD. I want my students to see a phenomenal wrestler up there discussing his challenges and disabilities.
I want my students to see a man who grew up with their struggles and know they, too, are great.
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atticollateral · 1 month
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whenever i see the word Atrocities i have to stop bc my name is Attrochilles and my dyslexic brain needs to doubletake. they are in the same word family it fucks me up when I see Attribute Attention Atomic & Attic too 😭 (Atticus/Atti)
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akaessi · 5 months
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if you hear me mispronounce a word or stumble trying to pronounce a word--it's literally because I'm dyslexic
I'm not stupid or lazy or whatever, I'm just dyslexic. I hide it really well but still
I pronounce it correctly in my head, it just doesn't translate to speech! this is an actual phenomenon with dyslexia!!
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steddieworks · 11 months
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you can change (right next to me) - iv
hi!! I'm so sorry that it has taken me forever and a day to update but life has just been busy and hectic lately! I also haven't really been in the mood for writing lately, and I didn't want to post something half-assed just to say i've posted
that being said... here's chapter 4 of the tutor au! things got away from me this chapter and so i'm fairly certain the new chapter count will be a bit longer, but we'll just have to see how the next couple of them go!
happy reading!
read on ao3
Summary:
Steve’s got a soft look on his face when Eddie meets his gaze. “I think I’m ready to go to the doctor for my hearing problems,” he whispers.
Eddie grins, and knows that he probably looks ridiculous, but he literally can’t help it. Steve is being brave - braver than Eddie would ever be, probably, and doing the things that scared him, and Eddie can only hope that someday he’ll be able to do that too.
or,
Steve makes a decision.
Word Count: 10.8k
Warnings: swearing, mild smut, discussions of disabilities
It takes about a week for Steve to make up his mind about the hearing thing.
And in that week, Eddie feels tortured, or maybe blessed, with Steve wearing his glasses. He shows up to class Monday without them, but when Eddie catches him squinting at the board, he walks by and murmurs a soft, “forgetting something?”
Steve seems flustered by it, but digs them out with a huff. He glares at Eddie for a few minutes, or tries to at least, before he breaks, sliding them onto his face and giving him a soft little smile. Eddie grins, waggling his eyebrows and mouthing the word “hot” at him, which only makes Steve blush.
They’re so obvious with it that Barbera fake-gags, which embarrasses Eddie just enough to stop flirting until the end of class. He means to catch Steve before he leaves, just to check in with him and make sure they’re still on for their tutoring session the next day, but Steve is out the door before Eddie even finishes packing his bag. He tries not to take it personally, and when Tuesday rolls around and Steve does show up for their tutoring session, Eddie knows it isn’t really about him. Still, he’s not oblivious to the fact that Steve keeps things strictly business, all school-related talk and nothing else, and this trend continues for the rest of the week.
It’s Friday evening when something finally changes.
They’re at the library for their usual tutoring session, and Eddie is watching Steve as he writes the answer to one of the workbook’s questions, his hand moving slowly and carefully as he writes. It’s quiet in their little pocket of space in the corner, so Eddie notices immediately when someone approaches them on Steve’s bad side.
Not that Steve has a bad side, exactly. It’s just, like… the side he can’t hear from.
The person, who Eddie vaguely recognizes from the history lecture, says, “hey, Steve, do you happen to have the notes from Wednesday?”
Steve doesn’t reply. Doesn’t even look up.
Eddie gives the girl - Delilah? Dina? Something like that - a small smile before reaching out and touching Steve’s wrist.
“Hm?” Steve says, still not looking up.
“Honey, you’ve got a visitor,” Eddie says, voice quiet but close enough to Steve’s good ear that his gaze snaps up, then over, flushing when he sees the girl standing there.
“Oh, hey Nicole,” he says, clearly embarrassed.
Nicole? Close enough.
“Hey, Steve,” she says, clearly confused. “Um, I was just asking if you happened to have the notes from Wednesday. I had a doctor’s appointment and you’re the first person I’ve seen from that class since then.”
There’s a panic-stricken look on Steve’s face as he processes her words. “Oh, um…” he says, shuffling his papers around. Eddie knows his notebook is in his bag still, and he knows that Steve does have the notes, and yet he says, “I don’t have them with me, actually.”
“Oh,” Nicole says, her face falling. “Okay, then. Well, um. Thanks anyway.” She starts to walk away, but Eddie stops her.
“Hey, Nicole? I’ve got the notes, so I can email them to you when I get home,” Eddie tells her. His hand is still resting on Steve’s wrist, so he notices it when Steve turns his hand over, lacing their fingers together and squeezing. Eddie thinks it might be a little thank you.
“Oh, perfect! Thanks so much, Mr. Munson,” she says. “I’ll see you guys Monday!”
Eddie smiles and waves at her with his free hand, while Steve just nods at her before turning back to his work. When his pencil doesn’t move, however, Eddie frowns. “What’s the matter, baby?” he asks, speaking softly.
Steve shrugs, then sniffles, covering his face with his free hand and shaking his head.
Oh.
“Oh, babe,” Eddie sighs sympathetically, scooting his chair closer and bringing his hand up to gently rub Steve’s back. “I… I won’t pretend to know what you’re going through with this. But, can you talk to me? Tell me what part is bothering you?”
Steve shakes his head again, then seems to change his mind and nods instead. “I just…” He trembles, and Eddie waits, patiently rubbing circles onto his back and squeezing his hand again. “Now that I’m like, aware of it, I’m starting to hyperfixate on it.”
“On what?” Eddie asks, although he’s pretty sure he already knows.
“The hearing thing. Like… How many fucking times have I just sat and ignored someone because I just couldn’t fucking hear them?” He’s getting a little louder than is probably acceptable at a library, so Eddie gently shushes him. He looks sheepish for a moment, lowering his head to rest on their intertwined hands. “I just… I don’t know. I feel broken.”
Eddie’s heart fucking shatters when he hears that. He hates to imagine that Steve has been dealing with these feelings by himself for so long before now, but he knows that he probably has. The only thing he can do now is be there for him, but thinking about a younger Steve, struggling with this alone, almost makes him sick.
“I know, Stevie. I mean… I haven’t been through this, but I get the whole… feeling broken thing. But you’re not broken.” A heavy silence falls upon them, and he hopes Steve can read the subtext, because he’s just not sure if he can spell it out for him just yet.
Apparently, he doesn’t need to. Steve tilts his head, looking up at Eddie and giving him a frown. “You’re not broken, either.” Before Eddie can protest, Steve sits up straight, leaning into Eddie’s space a bit more than he normally would, his hand coming up to cup Eddie’s jaw. “No. If I’m not broken, then neither are you. We’re… we’re okay.”
Eddie gives him a little smile, and an easy agreement. “We’re okay,” he says softly. He tilts his head, catching Steve’s hand and pressing a little kiss to his palm. He just can’t help himself.
Steve’s got a soft look on his face when Eddie meets his gaze. “I think I’m ready to go to the doctor for my hearing problems,” he whispers.
Eddie grins, and knows that he probably looks ridiculous, but he literally can’t help it. Steve is being brave - braver than Eddie would ever be, probably, and doing the things that scared him, and Eddie can only hope that someday he’ll be able to do that too.
He kisses Steve’s hand again, holding it in both of his and smiling at him. “I’m so proud of you,” he murmurs. “I’m serious, Steve. I know you don’t want to go, and it’s scary, but I’m so fucking proud of you for deciding that it’s worth it to try.”
Steve has a sort of bashful look on his face, but Eddie’s not backing down. He wants Steve to know, without a doubt, how supportive he is of this decision. “Well, it’s not really that big of a deal,” he mumbles.
Eddie shakes his head. “Okay, maybe not. But that doesn’t mean it’s not scary. That doesn’t mean it’s not brave to do it. And that doesn’t make me any less proud of you.” He uses Steve’s hand that he’s got trapped in his to boop him on the nose.
Steve looks sort of embarrassed, but smiles, ducking his head. “Will you go with me again?” He asks, studying their hands. He brings his other hand down to tangle their fingers together, and Eddie lets him, helpless to intervene when he’s being so sweet and touchy after so many days without it.
“Of course,” Eddie replies immediately. “Always. Anytime you need me, darlin’, I’m there.”
He watches as Steve’s face flushes, and he has to bite back a grin. He’s so easy to rile up, even when Eddie isn’t particularly trying to. “Okay,” Steve mumbles. “We should… finish this?” He sounds uncertain.
Eddie nods, though honestly he could give a fuck less about the stupid worksheet that Murray assigned. “Sure, Stevie. And I can drive you home when we’re done, if you want.”
Steve pulls his right hand away from Eddie’s to grab his pencil, but taps it on the book a few times before speaking. “I was actually thinking… Maybe I could go back to yours? And we could, um… watch a movie or something?” He sounds so hopeful, and has an air of forced nonchalance that Eddie can’t help but smirk at.
Then what he’s asking sets in. “Uh…” Eddie hesitates. Not because he doesn’t want to spend more time with Steve, or course not. But because… he’s not sure he’ll be able to maintain this quasi-friendly distance between them if they’re all alone in his apartment.
“We don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Steve mumbles after a minute of silence. “I just-“
Apparently Eddie has even less self control than he thought, because he just nods and smiles. “No, yeah. Let’s do that. You said you’ve never seen Lord of the Rings, right?” He’s mostly joking, but the wide-eyed, panicked look that fills Steve’s face then just solidifies it. “It’s a long one, so you’ll have to hurry up if you wanna be able to finish it tonight.”
Steve sighs like he regrets ever asking, but gives Eddie a little smile when he looks back down at his work. “Alright.”
~~~
Eddie doesn’t actually make Steve rush through the assignment, but he hints at the correct answers more frequently than he normally would. If Steve notices the difference, he doesn’t say anything, and when he finishes, he lets Eddie help him pack up his things without argument.
If Eddie didn’t know any better, he’d think Steve was… excited.
But surely that can’t be the case. Steve had never shown any interest in any of Eddie’s nerd shit before now, so surely there’s something else. Then again, if Steve’s excited/nervous for the same reason that Eddie himself is… that might be a problem in and of itself.
“How long did you say this movie was again?” Steve asks as Eddie is driving them away from campus, towards his apartment.
“Well,” Eddie says, hesitating. “Um… I don’t think I did.”
“What?” Steve glances at him, clearly confused.
Eddie scratches his chin awkwardly. “I didn’t say how long it was,” he admits, biting his lip a little and avoiding meeting Steve’s gaze.
“Oh,” Steve says. A few seconds later, he shrugs. “Okay.”
Eddie balks at him. Surely he’s not just giving in that easily? Without any sort of estimate about when he can expect to go home?
“Do you… not want to know how long it is?” Eddie asks. The fun has run its course if Steve’s not playing along, but Eddie had expected the joke to last a bit longer, if he’s honest.
Steve just shrugs again. “It doesn’t really matter to me,” he says casually. When Eddie glances at him, Steve is already turned to face him fully. Eddie feels a little bad for avoiding eye contact so far on the drive, realizing acutely that Steve relies on lip-reading significantly. “Are you gonna make me go home if I fall asleep during it?”
Eddie blinks at him. He can feel his face flushing a little, at even the suggestion of the alternative. That he should just let Steve sleep over, like they’re friends, when they are most certainly not.
“Um,” Eddie says, stupidly. “Probably not. For starters, that would be really shitty of you, to fall asleep during the best cinematic masterpiece of our time, and secondly,” he pauses to glance the opposite way before turning right at a stop sign. He normally wouldn’t bother, but… precious cargo. “I could never be that cruel. It’s a long one. And since it’s your first time, I’ll let it slide if you fall asleep.”
Steve makes a noise that’s a bit like a laugh or a snort, and when Eddie glances at him, he’s got a smirk on his face. “That sounded a bit dirty,” he teases.
Eddie rolls his eyes. “No, you’re just dirty-minded. Get your thoughts out of the gutter, Harrington.”
“What if I want them in the gutter?” Steve says, sly and coy.
Eddie clears his throat. “Um.”
Luckily, Steve takes pity on him. “Can we order Chinese?”
~~~
They do order Chinese, and while they wait for it to arrive, Eddie frets about setting up the movie.
“Now this is god-tier shit, alright? And there’s all these layers to the lore, so if you have a question I’ll have to pause the whole thing and-“ Eddie is explaining all this as he’s turned away, but he pauses when he turns around and finds Steve staring at him. He’s got this little smile on his lips, and it takes Eddie a second to get it. “You couldn’t hear any of that, could you?”
Steve breaks out into a full grin at that. “Not really. It sounded sort of muffled, but I got bits and pieces of it.”
Eddie shakes his head, embarrassed. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I-“
Steve steps towards him, shaking his head. “Don’t… please don’t do that.”
“Do what?” Eddie says quietly, hyper-aware of the lack of space between them.
“Don’t treat me like I’m broken. Just… treat me the way you always do.” Steve’s voice breaks, and so does Eddie’s heart.
“Oh, baby,” Eddie sighs. He reaches out for Steve, pulling him into a tight hug. Luckily, Steve goes willingly. “I’m sorry. I’m not… I’m really not trying to treat you differently, like, in a bad way. I’m just trying to be more accommodating, now that I sort of know how.”
Steve nods. “I know. I just… I really hate being like this, Eddie.”
Eddie’s heart feels like lead in his chest, his ribs too tight around the organ. “I know,” he mumbles against Steve’s hair, rubbing his back in long, smooth motions. “Well… not completely, but… I understand why you’re frustrated.”
Steve sniffles. Eddie kisses the top of his head, not even caring if Steve feels the affectionate touch. “Yeah,” he says, tiredly. “Can we just watch the movie? And… and not talk about all my problems?”
Eddie nods, but pulls back to look at him. “Okay, but let me say one last thing?” Steve shrugs, so Eddie takes that as an agreement. “You’re allowed to talk about these things with me. I know you feel weird about it, but just know that I’ll always listen if you need to talk. Okay?”
“Okay,” Steve agrees quietly. “Thanks, Eddie.”
Helpless to his own stupid urges, Eddie leans in again to kiss Steve’s forehead. “Alright. Movie time.”
~~~
The food comes as they’re gathering up pillows and blankets and all the snuggly things that Eddie can find in his apartment. They build a fort of sorts on his sofa, and between the two of them, they’re laughing and giggling at the absurdity of it all, the child-like glee from playing like kids again.
“You know, I’ve never been able to use chopsticks,” Eddie notes vaguely as they settle in to start eating.
“Really?” Steve asks, all curious and amused. “I could teach you, if you want.”
Eddie looks over at him, surprised. “Would you really?”
Steve shrugs. “Sure, why not. C’mere.”
So that’s how Eddie finds himself, sitting in front of Steve, his ass barely hanging onto the edge of the couch, Steve’s thighs bracketing his hips. Eddie’s not sure this is an entirely foolproof method, but he doesn’t argue when Steve tells him where to sit.
“Alright, so, you just hold the bottom one steady like this,” Steve explains, demonstrating on his own hand. “And then the top one is used like a pincer. You just use it to pinch your food.”
Eddie nods, turning his head so that Steve will be able to hear him. “Sounds simple enough.”
Steve smiles, reaching for his hand. “Alright, let me show you how to hold it.” He goes through the whole routine again, this time positioning the chopsticks between Eddie’s fingers instead of his own. “Okay, now try to get a piece of chicken.”
Eddie reaches forward, but nearly slides off the couch in the process. “Man, I don’t think this is the best seating arrangement you’ve ever come up with.”
“Hm?” Steve hums against his shoulder, his arm slipping around Eddie’s waist to hold him. Eddie’s not sure this will prevent him from tumbling off the couch, but he’s not about to turn down the almost-cuddle.
“I said I don’t think this is the best seating arrangement,” Eddie repeats, turning his head to the side to glance back at Steve. “Even though you make one hell of a seatbelt,” he says with a smirk.
Steve blushes, pinching Eddie’s stomach lightly. “Behave,” Steve says when Eddie squeals. “And pick up the chicken! We’re losing precious daylight hours here.”
Eddie rolls his eyes, even as he leans forward once more to try and use the chopsticks. “Fine,” he mumbles. It takes him a few tries, but eventually he does manage to pinch a piece of chicken between the ends of the chopsticks. “Look! I did it!” He cheers, turning quickly in his excitement to show Steve.
Of course, that’s exactly when the chicken slips out from between the chopsticks, landing on the floor.
Eddie sighs. “Fuck this,” he says solemnly, going to put the chopsticks down in exchange for a fork.
“Hey,” Steve protests, reaching around him to scoop the chopsticks back up. “Just because you’re trash at it now doesn’t mean you can’t learn. Here, watch what I do.” Steve carefully leans forward, his arm tightening around Eddie’s chest to hold him still. Eddie feels like he can barely breathe as he watches Steve easily scoop up a piece of chicken with the chopsticks, expertly bringing it out of the bowl without dropping it.
Eddie expects Steve to eat the morsel himself, so he’s surprised when instead, the chopsticks halt in front of his mouth. “Here,” Steve says softly.
He almost wants to tease him, but the fear of breaking the moment altogether forces Eddie to just accept it, opening his mouth and letting Steve feed him. “Mm.”
“Is it good?” Steve asks, his hand beginning to trace meaningless shapes on Eddie’s stomach.
“Yeah,” Eddie finds himself whispering, his throat feeling a little tight, and not because of the food.
What use are their stupid boundaries about kissing if they’re going to do shit like this? He wonders.
“Want to try again?” Steve asks.
Eddie shakes his head. “No, maybe next time.”
“Okay,” Steve says easily enough. Eddie expects him to push him away now, grab a fork and both of them eat like normal people.
That’s not what happens.
Instead, Steve shuffles in his seat, lifting up his legs and carefully draping them over Eddie’s. “Is this okay?” He whispers.
Eddie swallows hard, but nods. His idea of “okay” is so skewed as of now, he really doesn’t know what qualifies anymore. “Yeah, it’s okay,” he mumbles.
Steve crosses his legs over Eddie’s lap, and if Eddie didn’t feel so choked up, he’d probably laugh at the way he’s basically got a human backpack.
“Can you hold my food for me? So I don’t have to lean so far?” Steve asks, his arm tightening around Eddie’s chest.
Eddie nods, but glances back at Steve before he grabs the take-out container for him. “Are you sure it wouldn’t just be easier to sit beside me?”
Steve blushes. “I mean… yeah, it would.” He doesn’t say anything else, staring at Eddie with wide, hopeful eyes.
“I’ll take that as a no, then,” Eddie laughs, reaching for the take-out container with a hand on one of Steve’s ankles. “Here you go, baby.”
He holds the carton close to Steve’s right hand to make it easier on him, then frowns at his own plate. He’s not sure exactly how they’re going to manage it like this, to be honest. He’s pulled from his thoughts when Steve hums in his ear.
“Bite?” Steve says softly, holding out a piece of chicken at the end of his chopsticks.
“Oh,” Eddie replies, surprised. “Are you sure? I can just eat mine.”
Steve shrugs, and for a split second, Eddie thinks he feels the briefest press of lips to his shoulder blade. “We can share,” Steve suggests.
Eddie turns his head just a bit, and their noses brush with the movement. Neither of them move away. “You just want to steal some of my orange chicken,” Eddie accuses teasingly.
Steve blinks, his eyes wide and innocent. “Who, me?”
And really, what happens next is all Steve’s fault.
He licks his lips, just a quick dart of tongue against chapped pink, and Eddie’s eyes drop to follow the movement, helpless.
When his eyes flick back up to meet Steve’s, the innocent look is gone, replaced by something darker, something more intense. Steve carefully sticks his chopsticks back into the carton of chicken and rice, his thumb coming to rub the back of Eddie’s hand, pushing it towards the table.
“Put it back,” Steve says quietly, no need for volume when his breath is already caressing Eddie’s ear.
Eddie obeys immediately, leaning forward and placing the carton back on the table before attempting to twist in Steve’s grip, desperate to face him, to see what will happen next. “Steve,” Eddie murmurs, a little annoyed at the lack of movement he’s being allowed.
Steve doesn’t let him struggle for long. He wiggles to the side of Eddie, pulling his left leg with him as he goes. Eddie hears himself whine sadly, but before he can lament the loss of Steve’s warmth properly, he’s shifting again, and suddenly Eddie has a lapful of Steve Harrington.
“Um,” Eddie says, very eloquently. Thank you, English degree.
Steve is staring down at him from his new perch, his eyes a little wild. His hands are shaking a bit as he brings them up to rest on Eddie’s shoulders, but his voice is calm when he speaks. “I know we decided this was a bad idea,” he says, his voice strong and even. “But, I also think that if I don’t kiss you within the next five minutes, I might die.”
Eddie cracks a grin at that. “You think so?”
Steve nods solemnly. “You can tell me to fuck off if you really don’t want to,” he whispers, leaning in close and brushing his lips against Eddie’s cheek, right where it dimples. “But I… I’ve been thinking about it all day, and…” he pauses, pulling back just a fraction. “I happened to be looking at the student handbook for the university.”
Eddie quirks an eyebrow at that. “Oh? You just happened to be looking at that?”
Steve’s face is definitely a little pink, but he nods, apparently committed to that version of the story. “Yes. And it says that student/professor relationships are frowned upon, but not technically illegal.”
“Oh yeah?” Eddie’s heart is racing. He’s certain he’s got this deer-in-the-headlights look on his face, one that Steve must be able to read as clear as day, even with the reading difficulties he definitely possesses.
“Yeah,” Steve nods. “And since you’re not technically my professor…” His lips drag down Eddie’s jaw, nipping gently when he gets close to Eddie’s ear. “And if this is just sex, not a relationship…”
Eddie’s stomach drops a little at that, and not in a sexy way. “Oh,” he says, struggling to keep the disappointment out of his voice. But of course it wouldn’t be anything past sex - Steve is young, attractive, a star member of the university’s basketball team. He could get anyone he wants to be in a relationship with him, of course he wouldn’t want Eddie. And as pathetic as it makes him, and as much as it hurts… he knows he’s going to let Steve have this. He’s going to give him what he wants, and when he’s through with him, Eddie will allow himself to be tossed aside like trash, even though he’s already halfway in love with the guy.
But it’s that love, that endless well of adoration and desire, that makes Eddie say, “okay.”
Even though it hurts.
“Yeah?” Steve mumbles against his jaw.
Even though it fucking stings.
“Yeah,” Eddie whispers back.
He lets that be the end of their exchanging of words, reaching a hand up into Steve’s hair to gently tilt his head, guiding their lips together in a deep, wet kiss. Steve makes a soft noise into the touch, and Eddie’s other hand falls down to rest on his hip, squeezing gently. His mouth moves softly against Steve’s at first, craving the tenderness of a kiss that he knows is living on borrowed time.
“Fuck,” Steve whispers against his mouth, pulling back just a little. “Do you think we could- would you-“ He stumbles over his words, making a frustrated noise before rutting his hips down into Eddie’s, making him groan loudly.
“Steve,” Eddie says through gritted teeth. “Fuck. Don’t- you shouldn’t do that.”
Steve whines, looking down at him with wide, pitiful eyes. “Why not?” He asks. He’s definitely pouting.
Eddie drops his head back against the couch, overwhelmed with the feeling of Steve in his lap and all his blood rushing south. “God. I don’t know,” Eddie whines back, clutching at Steve’s hips desperately. He scrambles to think of something, anything, to postpone this, even for a few minutes. “Our food,” he finally says, blinking up at Steve.
Steve raises his eyebrows. “Our food?” He asks.
“It’ll… get cold,” Eddie finishes lamely.
Steve snorts, and his lips work into a grin. “Fuck the food, you’ve got a microwave.”
He dives back in for a kiss again, and really, Eddie can’t argue with that logic. His hands map a path from Steve’s hips to the back pockets of his jeans, and he’s not shy about sticking his hands in there to squeeze a good handful. “Fuck, babe,” he groans, Steve nipping at his lips. “Such a nice ass,” he mumbles, tilting his head to catch Steve’s lips again.
Steve pulls back, making Eddie whine loudly. He’d be embarrassed if he had any blood left in his brain to encourage any sort of thought process. Steve grins above him. “You should see it without the jeans. I’ve been told it’s even better that way.” He’s so fucking smug about it that Eddie has to pull his stupid face in for another bruising kiss, more than a little jealous at the mere suggestion that anyone else is seeing Steve’s ass enough to have an opinion.
And that’s stupid, not to mention possessive, of Eddie to even think that, but here they are. He squeezes Steve’s ass again before pulling his hands out of his pockets, bringing his hands around to undo his button and zipper. “Are you sure?” Eddie asks, pausing there, giving Steve every chance to back out. “You can always change your mind, Stevie.”
Eddie isn’t sure what he’s expecting Steve to say to that, but it definitely isn’t a huffy, “I know what I want, Eddie.”
“Okay,” Eddie says softly, leaning in and kissing his cheek. “Tell me, then. What do you want?”
At that, Steve’s cheeks go a little red, though Eddie can’t for the life of him fathom why. It’s not like Steve has been shy up until this point. “I…” Steve trails off, but begins moving his hips in short little bursts of movement. “I want you to touch me.”
Eddie grins, and decides that if this is the only time he gets to have this, he can be a little mean. “Touch you where, baby?”
Steve whines, high in his throat. “Eddie,” he says softly. “Don’t be mean.”
And Eddie can’t help but kiss him for that. “Sorry,” he lies against his mouth. “Should we maybe go to my room? Or do you wanna do this on the couch?”
Steve freezes in his lap, which makes Eddie pull away instantly, looking up into his face for any sign of regret. “Um…” Steve starts, avoiding Eddie’s eyes.
“Honey, what is it?” Eddie asks as he rubs a soothing hand up and down Steve’s thigh. “Talk to me.”
“I’m not ready to fuck for real,” Steve says suddenly, the words bursting out of him in a rush of panic.
Eddie gives him a reassuring smile. “Okay,” he says immediately, bringing a hand up to pet Steve’s hair back. “That’s perfectly fine, baby. Thank you for telling me.”
Steve wiggles in his lap, twin hisses leaving their mouths at the sensation. “I still want to… do something, though.”
“Okay,” Eddie says. He pauses, thinking for a minute, before he smiles at Steve. “You ever jerked off with another guy before, Stevie?”
~~~
Predictably, Steve hasn’t done that, so that’s how they find themselves ten minutes later, both of their jeans and underwear pulled down to their thighs as Eddie strokes them off together with one hand. It’s incredibly hot, his gaze torn between watching the way his cock almost dwarfs Steve’s in his grip, and admiring the way Steve stares down at their dicks, his mouth wide open in shock.
“Does it feel pretty good, baby?” Eddie asks, smirking.
Steve nods dumbly, not a single word escaping his mouth. He’s blinking sort of rapidly, and Eddie wonders if his contacts are drying out. Normally, he’d stop to ask, but they’re both too damn close to worry about something like that right now.
Eddie tightens his grip a little, their dicks slippery enough with precome and spit that they slide together, making a disgusting, perfect sound. Eddie groans, flicking his wrist as he brings the both of them closer to the edge, his mind still not entirely wrapped around the fact that this is happening. They’re having sex. Literal, cocks touching, sharing breath and spit, sweaty sex.
And Eddie loves it.
He doesn’t know how the hell he’s supposed to give it up now that he’s had it, but he knows he’ll do whatever Steve wants, always. If he tells him ten minutes from now that he never wants to see Eddie again, Eddie would probably pack his bags. If Steve proposed, Eddie would say yes in a heartbeat.
Basically, there’s nothing Eddie wouldn’t do for him at this point.
“Close, close, close,” Steve chants, dropping his head back, presenting his neck to Eddie as he loses himself in the pleasure.
Eddie takes that as an opportunity to tilt forward, kissing and biting at the exposed column of Steve’s neck like his life depends on it. “Gonna come?” He mouths against Steve’s Adam’s apple.
“Yes, yes, Eddie, fuck, please,” Steve whines, his hips undulating as he tries to fuck himself against Eddie’s cock and the palm of his hand.
“Hm, if you’re good, I’ll let you come,” Eddie teases, slowing his stroking. He kisses his way up Steve’s throat, nibbling a little at his ear. “Are you gonna be good?”
“Yes, ‘m good, I’ll be s’good,” Steve pants. “Please!”
Eddie rewards him with picking up the pace and sucking a little mark under his ear, which makes him shudder. “Mm, so good using your manners, baby,” Eddie says, his voice breathy as he tries to stave off his own climax long enough for Steve to get his. “Come for me, babe. Make a mess.”
Apparently, that’s all it takes, and Steve is shooting off against their chests, the head of his dick nestled against the edge of Eddie’s. Something about it, the look on his face, the pulsing of Steve’s dick against his, or maybe the feeling of Steve’s come dripping down his cock, makes Eddie reach his. He comes so hard he almost thinks he’s going to black out, and he knows that’s all Steve.
“Fuck,” Steve whimpers, collapsing forward against Eddie’s chest, his head resting on Eddie’s shoulder. “That was so fucking hot,” he says with a light sigh, his body totally relaxed now.
Eddie laughs, his bones feeling like jello as he slumps against the couch, running his clean hand through Steve’s hair. “Did you like it?” He asks, a little nervous for the answer, despite the physical reaction he’d gotten out of Steve.
Steve snorts. “Did I like it?” He mocks, his eyes crinkling when he smiles at Eddie. “Of course I did. That was possibly the hottest thing that’s ever happened to me.”
And that makes Eddie nearly preen with pride. “Good,” he says. He’s still holding his right hand at an awkward angle, trying not to touch Steve with the same hand he used to jerk them both off. He glances down at Steve, who appears to be perfectly content staying there, with no sign that he intends to move anytime soon. “Hey, babe,” Eddie murmurs softly.
Steve makes a humming noise. “Yeah?”
Eddie kisses the top of his head. “How about we go get cleaned up? Would that be okay?”
“But I’m so comfy,” Steve protests weakly. He snuggles further into Eddie then, as if he’s proving his point. Instead, all this does is squish their soft cocks together and smears the come on their shirts.
“I know, but we’re kind of disgusting right now. And you can’t go home with your shirt looking like that,” Eddie explains.
Steve leans back a little, chewing his lip as he studies Eddie, a nervous tic. “Can I sleep here?”
Eddie blinks at him. “Uh… here as in… like on my couch?”
Steve’s face flickers with disappointment, but he shrugs. “Er, yeah, if that’s what you, um… yeah, that’s okay.” He stutters through what sounds like a couple different half-sentences, and Eddie can’t help but smile at him.
“Okay. Yeah, you can stay,” he says. He’d love it if Steve would just sleep in his bed, but he’s not sure that he would be comfortable with that idea. He puts the thought out of his mind, patting Steve’s back. “Okay, let’s go get cleaned, bud. And then I’ll make up the couch for you, and we can actually eat our dinner.”
Steve sighs quietly, and Eddie thinks for a terrible moment that he might change his mind, but then he says, “okay,” and shoves himself up to his feet. He looks down at his shirt, stained with both of their releases, and grimaces. “Uh, have you got a shirt I can borrow?” Steve asks.
Eddie has a very brief vision of Steve, wandering around wearing his clothes. Not even in a sexy way; no, he’s imagining Steve going to class, Eddie’s favorite Metallica tee hugging his broad shoulders. He wonders if everyone in the class would realize it wasn’t Steve’s shirt.
“Yeah,” he croaks out when he realizes Steve is staring at him, waiting. “Yeah, um. We can- there’s clothes in my room,” he says, feeling dumb for even saying that. Obviously that’s where his clothes are. God, he’s stupid.
Steve gives him a little smirk. “Lead the way,” he says easily, stepping back and waving his hand with a flourish.
Eddie shoves himself off the sofa, tucking himself back into his underwear but leaving his jeans unbuttoned. It feels like a lot to make the trip to his room like this, fucked out and filthy, with Steve Harrington trailing behind him, humming fucking - “Steve, is that ABBA?” Eddie asks, tilting his head back enough to look at him, allowing every bit of judgment to seep into his expression.
“Uh,” Steve stalls, and Eddie feels him step on his heel, probably on purpose. “Maybe.”
Eddie shakes his head as he tugs off his shirt, chucking it at the laundry basket in the corner of his bedroom as he steps inside. “Can’t believe you’re singing ABBA in this household. That’s basically sacrilege, you know.” He pilfers through his drawer of all his best band t-shirts, plucking out his very favorite and tossing it to Steve. “Don’t lose this, it’s my favorite,” he warns loudly without looking at him, going back to find himself something.
“Oh, I don’t- you don’t have to give me your favorite shirt, Eddie,” Steve says, despite the fact that he’s putting it on when Eddie turns around. “I’d wear whatever, really.”
And damn, Eddie was right. It really is a sight to see, Steve stood there in his t-shirt, looking at Eddie with those big beautiful eyes. If Eddie wasn’t so spent, his cock would probably be twitching in his pants.
“It’s fine,” he says, shucking off his jeans and grabbing a pair of sweatpants for each of them. “I wanted to see King Steve in a peasant’s clothing, at least once,” he jokes. He’s not sure Steve even remembers that, the whole “King Steve” joke from their high school days, but he doesn’t see the harm in it.
That is, until he catches a look at Steve’s devastated face.
“Stevie?” he asks softly, stepping closer to him. “Did I- what did I say?”
Steve shakes his head, dragging in a deep, shuddering breath. “N-nothing. Just… don’t call me that.” His voice is low, but serious, even as he adds a softer, “please.”
Eddie reaches out, relieved when Steve doesn’t flinch away from the contact. He grips his elbow, rubbing his thumb along the inside crease, and waits for Steve to meet his gaze. “Okay,” he says quietly, watching Steve as he watches his mouth. “I’m sorry, Steve. I didn’t think about it.”
Steve nods, and Eddie can’t help but coo when he steps closer for a hug. “Sorry,” Steve mumbles against his shoulder. “Hate bein’ sensitive about shit like that, but-”
“Hey, no,” Eddie says, pulling away just enough to get a good look at his face. “I want you to tell me when I cross a line, okay? Because sometimes I don’t realize it. Always tell me, alright?” He kisses Steve’s hair, subtle enough that hopefully he doesn’t even notice it.
“Okay,” Steve says quietly before tugging out of his embrace. It’s sooner than what Eddie prefers, and he aches to have him back in his arms the moment Steve is missing from them. He realizes he’s still just standing there in nothing but his ruined t-shirt and boxers, and the distinct embarrassment of being half-naked while Steve is fully dressed is enough to kick him into gear.
“Here,” Eddie says, holding out the extra pair of sweatpants after he’s tugged his own up his legs. “Unless you want to just sleep in your underwear,” he says, trying not to meet Steve’s eyes.
“These are fine, thanks,” Steve replies, and Eddie forces himself to look away when Steve begins tugging his jeans off.
A few minutes later, they’re both dressed in far more comfortable attire, and Eddie is starving. He leads the way back down the hall to the living room, scooping up their boxes of food and taking it straight to the kitchen to be reheated.
“We’ll have to start the movie over,” Steve says from behind him. When Eddie glances over his shoulder, he finds Steve standing there with his arms crossed, leaning against the doorway between the kitchen and living room.
Eddie grins as he sets the timer on the microwave. “You’re a man after my own heart, Stevie. I figured you’d try to pull the wool over my eyes and pretend you’d been paying attention the whole time.”
Steve rolls his eyes, but it’s playful. “Hard to pay attention when I’ve got you coming all over my cock, hotshot,” he says, smirking.
Eddie gulps, almost choking on his own spit as he turns to stare at the food rotating in the microwave. He’s not sure how to come back from that one, his brain moving too slowly in the wake of a good orgasm to even come up with a smooth retort. “Well,” Eddie says after an awkward moment of silence. “This time we have to pay attention to the movie. No distractions.”
The microwave beeps, and he carefully takes out the boxes, turning to find the smirk on Steve’s face hasn’t lessened. “No distractions. Scout’s honor.”
~~~
Scout’s honor, my ass, Eddie thinks nearly an hour later.
They’ve long since finished their food, and although Steve had managed to follow along the first part of the movie with minimal questions, Eddie can tell he’s losing patience, wiggling in his seat and casting glances at Eddie repeatedly. Eddie was serious though, he doesn’t stand for menial interruptions during Lord of the Rings time, and won’t pause it for anything less than an emergency.
“Eddie,” Steve whispers after another ten or so minutes of fidgeting.
Of course, hearing his soft voice, all of Eddie’s concerns fly straight out the window. He turns to him with a little smile, raising his eyebrows. “Yeah?”
Steve picks at a loose string at the seam of his borrowed sweatpants. “Can you pause it for just a second? I need to brush my teeth and stuff, in case I fall asleep.”
Eddie gives him a playful glare. “You can’t fall asleep during the movie, it’s against the rules!”
Steve rolls his eyes, but drops his head back and whines, playing along perfectly. “But I’m so sleepy,” he argues, batting those pretty little eyes at Eddie.
And of course Eddie can’t argue with that. “Okay, fine. I’ve probably got a spare toothbrush somewhere.” He starts to shove himself off the sofa, but Steve’s voice stops him.
“Oh, that’s okay, I’ve got one.”
Eddie pauses, turning slowly to look at Steve. He’s trying so, so hard not to grin. “You just happened to bring one with you?” He drawls, quirking an eyebrow at him.
Steve’s cheekbones flush with color, and Eddie can’t help but poke at them playfully. “Yes, I did,” Steve says petulantly, slapping Eddie’s pestering hands away.
“But you didn’t know you were staying the night,” Eddie says, feigning confusion.
Steve groans, finally breaking. He covers his face, but Eddie doesn’t let that last long, reaching forward and uncovering those beautiful hazel eyes immediately. “I didn’t, but I… I knew I was going to ask.”
Eddie coos at that, can’t help it really. “Aww, Stevie. How long had you been planning that?”
Apparently that’s a line he’s hesitant to cross, because Steve just looks away, back to plucking at the errant strings hanging off his borrowed pants. He shrugs, mumbling something that Eddie doesn’t quite catch.
“What was that, honey?” Eddie asks, reaching out and tugging at the loose thread Steve just released.
Steve sighs, a loud, almost put-upon sort of thing. “I said… I’ve had the toothbrush in my bag for like a week.” His face is decidedly pink now, and Eddie is so damn fond.
He knows he should laugh this off and move on, or try to at least, but one look at Steve’s embarrassed but hopeful face makes him bold. “All you had to do was ask, baby,” he says softly, patting Steve’s knee.
Steve fidgets again, turning so that his knees are pressed to Eddie’s thigh. “But last time, you acted like…” he trails off, somehow looking even more embarrassed than he did before. “Well, anyway,” he says, waving his hand dismissively.
Eddie doesn’t let it go that easily. “Like what?” He asks quietly, saving space for disappointment or regret, but understanding that this is about Steve’s feelings, not his own.
It takes a few long, awkwardly silent moments for Steve to actually make eye contact and respond. When he does finally look at him, Eddie tries to give him a reassuring smile. “It’s stupid,” Steve says, his gaze flickering between his hands and Eddie’s eyes.
“I seriously doubt that,” Eddie says, trying to be reassuring without being patronizing. “And even if it is, I still want to hear it.”
Steve studies his hands very carefully, picking at a hangnail with the utmost precision. He doesn’t meet Eddie’s eyes when he finally speaks. “I just feel like… like you maybe don’t want me around, sometimes.”
Eddie frowns, ducking his head so that he can say his next words with the full certainty that Steve can actually hear them. “Stevie, no,” he says firmly. He reaches for Steve’s hands, gently clasping each one in an attempt to get rid of Steve’s distraction. “I’m sorry that I ever made you feel like that.” He hesitates then, uncertain if he should say anything more vulnerable than that. And of course, what he should do very rarely matches up with what he’s going to do, and he finds himself opening his big stupid mouth again. “Really, Steve. I… If anything, I want you around more than I probably should.”
Steve sniffles, blinking those sweet hazel eyes up at Eddie with nothing short of doubt lurking in them. “Really?” he asks.
Eddie can’t help himself, leaning in and pressing a little kiss to Steve’s forehead. “Always. I want you around always.”
He’s not sure what to expect from the confession, but what he gets is Steve sniffling louder, his hand coming up to clutch at the back of Eddie’s neck. For a moment, Eddie panics, thinking Steve is about to pull him into a kiss, a kiss that he knows he won’t be able to put a stop to even if he tries, but instead, he just presses their foreheads together, taking a deep, settling breath. “Okay,” Steve murmurs.
It takes him a moment to collect himself, and even when he does pull away, he doesn’t remove his hand immediately. “You okay now?” Eddie asks.
Steve nods. “Yeah. I’m really sorry, I don’t know why I got so… I get sort of sappy after sex sometimes.”
“You don’t have to apologize,” Eddie says immediately, shaking his head. “Not for that, and not to me. This is a safe space, remember? You can say anything to me, always.”
A complicated look passes over Steve’s face then, and Eddie has never felt so scrutinized. He can almost imagine Steve walking through the caverns of his brain, inspecting every nook and cranny as he decides what’s worth keeping and what must be discarded. Eddie shivers, unsettled by the intensity of Steve’s expression, and that seems to be what snaps him out of whatever trance he’s in.
“I need to go brush my teeth,” Steve finally says, effectively breaking the tension.
Eddie feels a twin sense of relief and disappointment at that. It had almost felt like… for a moment there, he thought Steve was going to say something else. But surely if he had wanted to say something, he would have. Right?
“Okay,” Eddie replies, scooting away from him on the couch to give him space to go and do what he needs to do. He has a wild, purely self-indulgent thought as Steve is going to grab his bag, and common sense apparently isn’t enough to stop him from saying it. “Hey, if you want to, you can just leave your toothbrush here. That way you’ll have it for next time,” he says, glancing over at Steve and studying him carefully to see his reaction.
Luckily, Steve’s turned mostly towards Eddie, so he doesn’t have to repeat himself. Steve glances up at him, and his lips quirk into a shy smile. “Okay,” he says quietly. “I’ll put it with yours?” he asks.
Eddie nods, feeling a little giddy himself at the prospect. Which is completely ridiculous - something as stupid and simple as their toothbrushes being placed in the same cup is hardly worth freaking out over. And yet… “Perfect,” Eddie says, clearing his throat when his voice cracks.
Steve shuffles off to the bathroom, leaving Eddie alone with his thoughts. He’s not gone for very long, and Eddie has barely made it through one panic-driven cycle of “god, this is wrong, he’s my student, and he was uncomfortable with this at first - wait, what changed?” when Steve returns. He yawns widely as he walks in the room, and Eddie’s nose crinkles at the audible sound of his jaw popping.
“Ew,” he teases. “You’re like a snake, unhinging its jaw to eat a baby.”
Steve gives him a very unimpressed look as he settles back into his place on the couch. “Snakes do not eat babies,” he says with an air of such certainty that Eddie almost doesn’t want to tease him about it.
“Oh but that’s just what they want you to think!” Eddie says, trying to hide his massive grin.
“Sure,” Steve says, rolling his head to the side to give Eddie this little half-amused look. He yawns again, tilting to the side to rest his head on the arm of the sofa, and Eddie realizes how inconsiderate he’s being.
“Shit, I forgot, you’re like, actually tired, aren’t you?” he asks, moving to get up.
Steve’s eyes widen at that, and he tries to disagree, but Eddie can tell from his weak eyes and his posture that he’s exhausted. “No, really, we can finish the movie!” Steve tries, gesturing to the television with one hand.
Eddie shakes his head, standing up and clearing the coffee table of their mess. “Nah, we can finish it another time, bub. You need some sleep.” He takes the trash to the kitchen, washes his hands, and makes his way back to the living room, where Steve is still half-laying down on the couch. “C’mon, gotta take your contacts out,” he reminds him.
Steve grimaces at that, but sits up. “Will you help me? It still kind of grosses me out to do it on my own.”
“Of course,” Eddie replies. “Are your glasses in your bag?”
“Yeah, should be in the case at the top. Contact case is in there, too.”
Eddie dutifully digs it out of the bag, coming to settle on the edge of the coffee table directly in front of Steve once he’s got it. “Alright, hold still,” he murmurs softly before reaching out. He’s gotten the hang of this in the several times Steve has asked for his help, and he’s definitely better at removing the contacts than he is at putting them in for him, so he’s glad that Steve’s mostly got that part down pat. Now that his brain is on that wave length, a nagging thought from earlier returns to his mind. “So… when you go to the ear doctor…” he starts slowly, then pauses when Steve tenses.
“Yeah?” Steve asks when Eddie is quiet for a beat too long.
“If you don’t want to talk about this, we don’t have to,” Eddie says softly.
Steve blinks at him, squinting without the assistance of his contacts, and Eddie can’t help but find it incredibly adorable. “It’s fine,” Steve says with a shrug. “No point in beating around the bush. Like… It’s happening.”
Eddie nods. “Right.” He clears his throat and hands Steve his glasses. “But when it does… Are you prepared for them to tell you that you might need something for that? Like…” He doesn’t want to come right out and say it, a little weary of scaring Steve, or just hurting his feelings.
Luckily, he doesn’t have to have that concern for long, as Steve fills in the blanks for him. “Like a hearing aid?” he guesses.
Letting out the breath he’d definitely been holding, Eddie says, “yeah. Like that. I know it’s just partial hearing loss… Or, well, I think that’s what it is, but… if they say that’s the best option, are you comfortable with that?”
Steve is quiet for a long time. If he wasn’t sitting up, his gaze flickering around the room as he thinks, Eddie would think that he’d fallen asleep. He looks sort of lost, and Eddie can’t even begin to imagine what sort of thoughts are racing through his mind. Eventually, his shoulders slump in what Eddie can only describe as resignation, and he sighs. “I… I guess I’ll have to be,” he says quietly.
Eddie is quick to do what he does best, jumping in to reassure him. “Hey, no. If you don’t want to, I’ll press them for another solution. But… if it’s that or surgery…” he gives Steve a sympathetic look.
Steve knocks his ankles against Eddie’s, staring down at their feet. “I don’t want people looking at me,” he whispers.
Eddie almost responds with a joke, but he knows better now. He knows how sensitive Steve is about these things (rightfully so) and so he knows that would just make it worse. “Why do you think they would be looking at you?” Eddie says, trying to choose his words very carefully. “I’m pretty certain they make relatively discreet aids, so people probably wouldn’t even notice.”
“Maybe,” Steve says noncommittally with a shrug. “But… I don’t want people to look at me… and all they see is the glasses and a hearing aid. Especially…” he rolls his eyes, mostly at himself, and gives Eddie a sardonic smile. “This is stupid, but like… I really don’t want people coming to our basketball games and saying, like… ‘Oh, there goes that deaf kid, who can’t see the ball coming at his face! And did you know he can’t fucking read?’ Like…” he shakes his head. “I don’t want that to be my legacy.”
And Eddie doesn’t really get it, not really. He’s not a member of any sport or club, and even being in a band, he doesn’t think he’s ever particularly given a shit what people thought of him, even though he is a little different, but he supposes that’s just the difference in their personalities. He tries to level with him, and see it through his eyes. “Yeah…” Eddie says slowly. “But baby,” he leans in, putting his hands on Steve’s knees and squeezing. “That’s not going to be your legacy. People are going to remember you because you were an amazing player, yeah, but you know what I’ll remember about you?”
Steve almost seems shy when he asks, “what?”
Eddie smiles at him, reaching up and tucking his hair over his ear. “I’ll remember that you were kind. And hardworking.” He begins counting things off using Steve’s fingers. “Honest, caring, funny, smart.”
Steve’s eyes are wet. “Eddie,” he says softly, like he’s denying it.
Eddie shakes his head, bringing his hand up to his mouth to kiss his palm. “I’m going to remember that you were brave,” he says gently, holding Steve’s gaze. “That you came to me and Murray for extra help, even though you were embarrassed. That you came back to me, even when I had fucked up and said everything wrong, because you chose to be brave enough to let someone help you.” He brushes his lips across Steve’s knuckles. “I’m not going to remember you for your glasses, or for having something in your ear, if that’s what they decide to do. I’m going to remember you, Steve.”
He means it to be reassuring, a pep talk of sorts, but Steve is fully crying by the end of it.
Great. Scratch “motivational speaker” off any potential future career plans.
At first he can’t tell if they’re sad tears or not, but then Steve is lurching forward, wrapping his arms around Eddie’s neck and muffling his tears against his shoulder. It takes him a few minutes of sniffling to get it under control, but Eddie gives him that time, holding him in a loose embrace and stroking his back gently. “Sorry,” Steve mumbles, not so subtly wiping his nose against Eddie’s shirt. “That was just - really fucking sweet, Eddie. I…” He pulls out of his grip for just a moment, giving him a shaky smile. “Thank you. I really needed that.”
Eddie kisses his cheek. “No problem. I’m always here when you need a pep talk. And maybe next time I won’t make you cry,” he jokes softly, thumbing at a stray tear on Steve’s cheek.
Steve just laughs, naturally good-natured about that. “Yeah, we’ll see,” he teases.
Eddie gives him another warm smile before sighing and standing up. “Let me go get you a couple of blankets, yeah?”
Something like disappointment flashes across Steve’s face for a second, but then he’s nodding, watching Eddie disappear down the hall. When he returns with a stack of blankets and a pillow, Steve offers a little half-smile. “Thanks,” he says, watching Eddie as he spreads a sheet across the couch, fluffing a pillow up at one end.
“You want me to tuck you in, baby?” Eddie asks, mostly joking.
Steve gives him that sweet smile, his eyelashes batting softly against his cheekbones as he nods. “Yeah, that would be nice, actually.”
It’s decidedly innocent, and means nothing more than Steve just being silly and seeking some form of comfort, but for some reason, Eddie’s face heats up. “Okay,” he says after an awkward pause. “Um… Lay down?”
Steve does just that, scooting around until he’s resting his head against the pillow, his glasses going a bit wonky on his face. “Can you-” he starts, turning his head a bit.
Eddie nods, reaching out and sliding the frames off Steve’s nose and setting them on the coffee table. “Better?”
“Yeah,” Steve says softly. He’s looking up at Eddie with those big doe eyes, and Eddie has to force himself to look away.
He drapes the fuzzy blanket over Steve first, followed by a quilt his grandmother had made before he was ever born. It’s old and is made up entirely of mis-matched patches of plaid and denim, but it’s probably the most sentimental item he owns. “Warm enough?”
Steve nods. “Mhm.” He looks awful cozy in his spot, and Eddie allows himself to be selfish one more time for the night as he leans in and presses a kiss to his forehead.
“Alright. Goodnight, bub. If you need anything, I’m just down the hall,” Eddie says, giving Steve one last look-over to make sure he’s as snug as he can be. He waits for Steve’s quiet hum of agreement, and then he’s retreating to his bedroom, giving Steve one last look over his shoulder before he disappears from his view for the night.
Behind the almost-closed door, Eddie sighs. God, he wishes he’d just have the guts to ask Steve to sleep in here, with him. Not in a sexual way or anything - no, Eddie just wanted to know what it would be like to cuddle with him for a night, to wake up wrapped in each other’s arms. He huffs and puffs to himself as he crawls into his lonely, empty bed, glaring up at the ceiling as soon as his head hits the pillow. It’s not fair, really. Steve being so close, yet so far away. Perfectly within reach, but also very much inaccessible.
He sighs again, louder this time, as if anyone will hear his passive-aggressive moping.
It occurs to him, vaguely, that he could just go right back down the hall and ask Steve if he’d like to sleep in a real bed rather than the couch. And honestly, even if he says no, what does Eddie have to lose? It’s not like Steve’s going to leave in the middle of the night. Then again, Eddie would hate to even make him uncomfortable enough to even think about that… He goes back and forth several times before ultimately deciding - fuck it. Nothing to lose, might as well give it a shot.
He crosses the space between his bed and the door quickly and quietly, a singular thought in his mind as he reaches for the doorknob.
Eddie has just barely pulled the door open when he bumps into something - or rather, someone.
“Oh, shit, I-” he starts to apologize immediately, then pauses when he registers that of course it’s Steve standing in front of his door. His face is drawn comically around an expression of panic, and Eddie tilts his head at him curiously. “Oh. What were you…” he trails off. It would be a little hypocritical of him to start asking questions about motives now, considering what he was just on his way to do himself.
“Um,” Steve says, his eyes wide. Eddie probably nearly gave him a heart attack, swinging the door open like that before the poor guy could even get the chance to knock. “I got… scared?” he tries, the words coming out more like a question than any real statement of fact.
Eddie can’t help his instinct to tease. Crossing his arms and leaning against the door frame, he says, “oh, did you?”
Steve blushes. “Um… yeah. It’s like… really dark in there, and… and your fridge makes weird noises, and…”
“Hm,” Eddie says, sucking at his teeth like he’s considering the issue. “Well, that’s no good. I can’t possibly leave you out there all alone to fend for yourself against the… fridge noises.” He can’t help but grin as he says it, and can’t bother regretting it when Steve just blushes harder.
He half-expects Steve to give it up then, out of embarrassment if nothing else, but if there’s one thing about him, it’s that he’ll always see something through. Instead, he just nods, casting a weary glance back down the hall. In doing that, Eddie finally notices that Steve’s got the quilt wrapped around his shoulders. Cute.
“Yeah, it would be really… really irresponsible for you to leave me out there all alone. I think I’d be way safer if I…” he seems to lose confidence then, but the longing glance he sends to Eddie’s bed over his shoulder makes his intentions crystal clear.
“I think you’ll just have to sleep in here with me tonight,” Eddie says, feigning disappointment. “Well, come on, then. I hear the fridge likes to claim its victims this time of night,” he says with a grin, gesturing for Steve to come into his bedroom.
Steve makes it a few steps towards his bed before he turns around, giving Eddie an almost desperate look. “You don’t mind me being in here, do you? Because, like, I can sleep by myself! I just-”
Eddie reaches for him, pulling him in via a tug on the quilt. “Honey. I promise I don’t mind. Actually…” He laughs at himself, shaking his head. “That’s why I was already at my door. I was actually about to come in there and ask if you wanted to sleep in here with me. I felt so guilty leaving you in there with just some blankets and a pillow.”
Steve’s face, which had brightened a little at the confession, falls again by the time Eddie finishes speaking. “Oh,” he says, glancing down. “Well, I mean, I don’t mind. I can sleep on the couch, I really don’t have to-”
“Stevie,” Eddie says, his voice full of exasperation. “Baby, I want you to sleep in here with me. I…” he hesitates, feeling that familiar uncertainty that comes with the prospect of being vulnerable to Steve in some way. “I think it would be nice, to not be alone, and… and it would be even better if it was you I was being not-alone with.”
“Oh,” Steve repeats, his voice even softer now. “Okay, then. Should we, um…” He glances at the bed, but his gaze doesn’t linger. Instead it darts all over the room, taking everything in as if he believes it’ll be the last time he sees it. Eddie hopes, selfishly, that it’s not.
“Let’s go to bed,” Eddie says, nodding. He uses his grip on Steve’s quilt-cape to guide him to the bed, walking backwards himself until the back of his knees hit the mattress. He releases Steve just long enough to crawl up onto the bed, patting the empty space beside him as he wiggles under the covers. “C’mon, I don’t bite,” he says, grinning at Steve. “Well, much.”
Steve rolls his eyes, but crawls onto the bed, keeping the quilt wrapped around his shoulders like he’s some kind of little caterpillar. Eddie helps him under the actual sheets and comforter, but Steve seems to have no intentions of letting go of the quilt anytime soon.
Once they’re settled, both of them on their sides facing each other, Eddie yawns. His jaw pops, and they share a grin at the sound. “Like a snake,” Steve murmurs.
It’s silly, but Eddie’s heart swells at the reference to his joke from earlier. “Like a snake,” he echoes.
Steve’s eyes are drooping with exhaustion, and Eddie knows it’s just a matter of time before he loses him to the clutches of sleep. His throat sticks with words he shouldn’t even feel the urge to say, and he clears his throat a few times in an attempt to speak.
“Goodnight, Eddie,” Steve whispers, beating him to the punch.
Eddie nods, feeling ridiculous at the swell of emotion that rises in his throat. Oh, god. He’s really got it bad for him, there’s no way around it.
“Goodnight, Stevie. Sweet dreams.”
Eddie doesn’t sleep a wink.
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I think Ron and I would probably bond over how much we both hate schoolwork in My disastrous life as a counselor to these damn kids (that’s some wizarding nonsense AU)
Ron: Did you like school?
Me: Hell no. I have adhd and dyslexia—I hated school. Plus my mom put me in these religious church schools growing up which made the whole thing worse because none of them believed in learning disabilities, so I acted out a lot. I remember this one time, I had verbally bullied my principal into getting a toupee.
*wincing at the memory*
Me: Yeah…that was a dick move on my part. But in my defense he had this really weird egg-shaped head and I had no filter as a kid.
Ron: Are you saying you have a filter now?
Me: Kinda. I’m working on it, okay?
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opens-up-4-nobody · 22 days
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#it's an old frustration. an old pattern of thought.#i just feel that i have a brain that doesn't hold information. that lacks the discipline to gain knowledge. that is incapable of deeper#thought. and i cant teel you how maddening that is. to sit in a room and listen to other people discuss a paper you read in depth 5 times#like it's the 1st time you ever heard anything about it. how is that possible? how do i work with that? i read and nothing sticks.#nothing stays with me. how??? i was talking to a prof recently who ive heard is hard on her students with disability accommodation. and she#was saying how she doesnt see these things as a disability. how we're just different not disabled. ive heard the phrase differently abled#a lot of times. and i get what she's saying. i do. ad i get why she's hard on them. she wants to push them. but there comes a point where#you are quote unquote differently abled and you run into a wall that other people dont have. then what are you supposed to do? work harder?#but what if that doesn't help? what if that just compounds the hurt that's always been there? what if that leaches away all the wonder? what#then? at what point does a thing become too much of a barrier? i think there's a reason i dont run into many other dyslexic grad student.#everyone has adhd. it's a place where those with adhd prosper. but dyslexia not so much. at least not with the level of hanicap i have#and everyone's really nice. they want to help. but there's nothing anyone can do for me at this stage. it's up to me to compensate for my#leaky head. and i kno im not stupid. ive got a piece of paper stating my iq is above average after correcting for uneven intelligence. but#i dont feel very smart most of the time. i feel more like my uncorrected iq score that comes out at just below average even with me trying#my very best. iq is bullshit but there's something to be said for that gap. im smart if unconstrained by language and time. but were bound#by language and we're bound by time so what am i supposed to do? is there anything i can do? im stuck with this forever. theres no getting#better or making it easier. my brain is wired in a way that gives me the reading skills of a child. forever. and i just have to accept that#and im trying to swallow around that idea easier because the only other option is to choke on it. but maybe i chose the wrong career path.#one of my lab mates said she wants challenges all the time and ive chosen a path that's challenges all the time but im jsut trying to do#what everyone else can without a second thought. it's deeply demoralizing. yet here i am. trying to be easier abt it.#maybe im just nit cut out for this. doing a job im not built for.#unrelated
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foulestbauble · 7 months
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Confessing to my new friends that I am dyslexic (a lie) after being outed as disabled by a teacher (i am in no way dyslexic)
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Bonus points for the fake ex-boyfriend (I’m not straight) like this is not healthy in the long run but yk how it is
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bigshoeswamp · 10 months
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one of my students just shared a dumb video disguising transphobia (in this case, saying neutral language is dumb and bad) as anti-capacityism in the class group chat and im :(
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