"Carpe Diem... that's seize the day." DEAD POETS SOCIETY PREFERENCES/IMAGINES

"His name is Box Face, damnit." :A STEVEN MEEKS IMAGINE:

TW:// Marijuana/cannabis usage, getting high, talking about abusive relationships (MEEKS IS NOT THE AB*SER)

You had just moved into your Connecticut apartment. This was your first apartment. You paid for it on your own, moved into it (almost) on your own. Finally you had something to be proud of! You weren't that proud of yourself for graduating from Wetlon, you mostly looked at it like you survived some massacre. You weren't that proud that you got into U of C because it was just school. But you finally buckled down, worked and saved with your boyfriend, and then purchased a home. You did it!

You placed your last box on your living room floor and plopped down on the ground, absolutely exhausted from running up and down the stairs with tons of boxes in your hands. Although you couldn't take all of the credit. Your boyfriend did helped and did carry the heavy stuff for you. He was just as excited as you were about this apartment so he helped in any way he possibly could. 

Your boyfriend actually scared you when he plopped down next to you. You had laid down and closed your eyes because you were exhausted so when he just appeared, you jumped. He kissed your cheek and grabbed your hand.

"We did it, angel. We survived Helton, got into our dream schools, and have an apartment. Now all we have to do is get married and my dreams are achieved." He said, pulling you into his side. You giggled and put your arm around his waist, kissing his cheek.

"Meeksy boy, I'm so happy and proud of us. I can't believe we did it." He looked down at you and smiled. You closed the gap between your lips and scooted closer to him. He picked you up and placed you on top of him, running his fingers through your hair and kissing you as if he was absolutely desperate for your love. You kissed back, just as desperate. But then all of a sudden, he pulled away and pushed you off of him. You thought you had done something wrong because of how quickly he had moved. 

"I almost forgot, Charlie gave me a going away gift for us to share." He said opening his backpack. You sighed of relief as you watched him move. You had to admit to yourself he looked absolutely adorable in his outfit today. He had on you jeans for some reason so maybe that's why he looked so fit. They were light blue jeans, high waisted, and they were baggy on his ankles. He had on a dark red MIT sweatshirt since that was where he would be attending school the following week, and he was of course wearing his iconic thick glasses. He just looked so sweet and comfortable. All you wanted to do was cuddle with him. 

He sat back down beside you and pulled you into his lap. He placed a bag in your hand and sighed, almost in fear. He placed a small bag of weed in your hand. Of course Charlie had gave him this as a present. Charlie was probably growing it under his bed back at school.

"Woah..." You said, giggling. He shrugged and bit his lip nervously. 

"I've never done it before. But I want to. And I want to try it with you because you'll keep me safe. You've done it... right?" You began to play with his hair and nodded at him, sweetly. He put his head on your arm and looked like he had tons of questions. You just decided to explain all of this stuff to him. 

"I smoke it for the first time during junior year. Believe it or not, it was with Todd. He got it from his brother because Todd was apparently 'becoming a man'. It just makes you feel funny. You can get a really good feeling, or a really bad one. Sometimes you can get really hungry or really tired... maybe a bit ill. But I'm here, I've done it numerous time, and you'll be safe. If you don't like it, you don't have to do it again. And we'll only hit it once or twice... it'll be okay." You consoled as you seal the blunt you guys would soon smoke from. He seemed a bit worried still, but happier and safer now. You put the blunt to your lips, igniting your lighter and toasting the butt of the blunt in the light flame. You hit it once and handed it to Meeks. You knew you two wouldn't smoke the whole thing, which was fine, so you just let him hit it as much as he wanted to. He hit is twice. Then you two waited for the high to start. You plugged in the record player while you waited. Meeks just laid on the ground, snapping or drumming on the wood floor. You could tell he was freaking out a little bit because he was just waiting and overthinking, so you put on his favorite album to make him feel more comfortable.