steddie prompt! steve struggling with his dyslexia and feeling like he isnt smart enough compared to eddie and the kids?
In an effort to, in his words, "convert him to the light side," Dustin had given Steve an armful of what he deemed "essential reading" and sent him away to "learn the ways of the Force."
If Steve didn't like Star Wars so much, he would've made fun of that little nerd.
But, honestly, he's a little grateful. With no more monsters to slay and it being way too cold to venture outside of his house to go swim or play basketball, the books fill up a good chunk of time.
Too good a chunk.
It's taking him way too long to get through them.
He didn't try The Hobbit or Lord of the Rings because those looked way too intimidating. Dune's first twenty pages were boring as shit, and Ender's Game was a lot, to say the least.
So, he's been making his way through A Wrinkle in Time.
Slowly making his way through it. Too slowly.
Steve has been quickly reminded about why he hasn't voluntarily read a book since elementary school, and why he stopped reading the required books in high school.
It's hard. Reading sucks.
He doesn't know how other people get through it when the letters don't make sense and seem to switch, like how "b" and "d" or "f" and "t" look way too similar.
"Whatcha readin'?"
Steve looks up from the book - god, it's probably taken him at least an hour to get through chapter one, hasn't it - to find Eddie in the doorway of the living room.
Guess he's taking advantage of the spare key, Steve thinks to himself, but he's not mad about it, not even a little.
"A Wrinkle in Time," he says, holding up the book so Eddie can see the cover.
Eddie lights up. "Oh, I love that book! I think the last time I read it, I was in, shit, maybe fourth grade?"
Steve knows he didn't mean it, but damn. That hurt a little bit.
He can't even get through a book Eddie read when he was in elementary school?
"What part are you at?"
Steve tucks the book against his chest so Eddie doesn't see how the bookmark isn't very far in. "Not very. Just met Mrs. Which. It's kind of hard to get through-"
"Oh, yeah," Eddie nods. "It took me, like, three days."
"- because the letters keep switching."
Eddie frowns. "What?"
"The letters," Steve says. "Like, they're moving a lot for this book. I don't know why."
Eddie looks at him blankly.
Oh.
"Does that... not happen for you?"
Eddie shakes his head.
Steve huffs out a laugh because of course this would be a uniquely him problem. Of course people like Dustin and Eddie and the rest of the party would like reading, because of course they would be able to do it right.
"I guess I really am stupid."
"It took me three tries to get through my senior year," Eddie says seriously, putting his hand on Steve's shoulder. "Does that make me stupid?"
"No," Steve says instantly. It doesn't. Just because Eddie wasn't good at school doesn't mean he isn't smart. He's a brilliant storyteller and musician, and both of those take brains.
Steve doesn't have a hobby that takes brains because he just... doesn't have enough. Plain and simple. That's how it's always been.
"Ok, then you're not stupid for having trouble reading," Eddie says like it's the simplest thing in the world.
"But-"
"But what? We're all gonna struggle with something. For me, it was school. For you, it's reading. It's why we've got other people to fill in the gaps."
Other people don't fill in the gaps. Steve does. Steve stretches himself thin, makes sure he's everywhere at once to make sure the kids and Robin and Eddie are okay.
No one else can do that because. Well.
Steve has to be irreplaceable somehow. He's gotta be necessary somehow.
This is the only way they need him.
"Get out of your head, martyr," Eddie says, reading his mind. He's not as good at that as Robin is - Steve doesn't think anyone will ever be able to read him like Robin can - but he can still do it.
It's weird, just like Eddie is. Steve's learned to love weird over the past few years.
"Do you want me to stick around?" Eddie asks.
"You can stay, if you want," Steve says.
"I always want to stay with you," Eddie says, and damn if that sentence doesn't take Steve's breath away. "But I figured I'd ask."
So, Eddie lays his head in Steve's lap as Steve dives back into a world of tesseracts and space and time, and when Steve tilts the book down and points to a word that just isn't making sense, Eddie reads it for him.
He doesn't comment on how often he hears the pages flip.
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How to Rehabilitate a Jock Pt 5
Part One Part Four Ao3 link Part 6
Reminder I'm not accepting anyone new on my tag list! Sorry if you want updates follow me here or subscribe on ao3! Also some warnings for Steve having PTSD and dyslexia in this fic. These two are going to start coming up more often but they begin here. Storytime!!
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Typically, a character starts at 1st level and advances in level in the adventuring world, although he or she might have been a soldier or a pirate and done dangerous things before.
Steve blew all of his breath out in an irritated sigh, balancing his forehead against his left palm and leaning impossibly closer to the book in front of him, willing the words to make sense. He put his right index finger underneath the line he was trying to read, using the trick his Seventh Grade English teacher had shown him.
Tyqically, a character stars at 1st level and advantages in level by abvemturing and morbid, although he or she might have been a sober or a gyrate and done dangerous thinps before.
He squeezed his eyes shut, resisting the urge to just grab the book and throw it against the wall. The sentences were starting to float around the page like driftwood, the letters choosing to make whatever damn words they pleased, and Steve was left drowning in the ocean without a tether as per usual.
Why did it matter if the characters were sober or gyrating? Did every character swear to be virtuous or some shit? That seemed like the kind of thing a stupid nerd game would come up with.
No, he probably just had it wrong. Steve just needed to read it again, but the thought of looking at the same paragraph he had been struggling with for the last fifteen minutes made him want to throw up.
When Eddie had given him the book last week, Steve had just thanked him and put it in his bag with no intention of reading it. But, Hellfire was at the end of the week, and he had said he would have a character to show them. He was determined to do just that, show them that he was taking this all seriously, but he couldn’t make a character until he understood what the game was.
And, apparently, he had to read to do that. Eddie had said he wouldn’t just hand everything to Steve on a silver platter.
You have to earn it. That was what Eddie had said as he gave Steve the book. He was going to have to earn this. So he had tried. He had been trying for five days now, and he was only on page eight.
Eight. Eight of like three hundred.
Steve was starting to think that maybe Hellfire wasn’t worth all the headaches he was getting trying to read this stupid book.
“Hey, Steve!”
Steve slammed the book shut as soon as he heard Nancy’s voice from behind him, scrambling to hide it under his other textbooks and act nonchalant as she and Jonathan came around the corner of the table and stood opposite him.
“How’s uh- how’s it going?” Jonathan asked, looking everywhere but directly at him.
Jonathan’s hands were fidgeting at his sides, his fingers twitching like he kept wanting to take Nancy’s hand, but kept stopping himself just before he could. Nancy was staring directly at him with the firm sort of determination she always had, her shoulders back, her head high. Steve resisted the urge to sigh.
“I’m fine,” He said, keeping his voice low and casual, “How’re you guys?”
“Good,” Nancy said, answering for both of them. She took the seat opposite of Steve without asking, pulling out the chair next to her so Jonathan could sit as well. She was still looking right at Steve with fire burning in her eyes, daring him to say something.
Let it be known, Nancy Wheeler was never going to back down from a challenge. She was strong as a lioness, as stubborn as a mule, and probably the most amazing woman Steve had ever met. Joyce Byers, Max Mayfield, and El Hopper were all extremely close seconds.
But he couldn’t really picture any of them doing what Nancy was so set on doing.
Somewhere during that last god awful night, Nancy had decided that the three of them were going to be friends. There had been a Steve and Nancy, a Nancy and Jonathan, but never a Steve and Nancy and Jonathan, and she was hell bent on seeing it happen.
And to make it happen, she continued to insert both of them into Steve’s life whenever she could.
Walking to shared classes, forcing him to come upstairs to say hi and chat for awhile when he came to get the kids from her house, and, of course, random library meetups like this one. After so many of these little check-ins, so many stilted conversations with the former love of his life and the guy she had left him for, it really shouldn’t be too awkward anymore.
It was still awkward.
“You’re spending a lot of time with the kids,” Nancy finally said after she couldn’t stand another second of uncomfortable silence.
The kids were an easy topic. They were something all three of them had in common. Steve could talk about them.
“They’re spending a lot of time with me,” He amended, trying to give her a smile. He could try for Nancy. It was the least he could do, “They just show up at my house whenever they want to and hang around my car until I agree to drive them places.”
“Sounds like them,” Jonathan murmured, and Steve huffed out a soft chuckle. He didn’t talk much, but when he did, Jonathan could be pretty funny.
“If they’re getting annoying I can tell Mike to back off,” Nancy offered, missing the point.
“No! No it’s fine,” Steve said quickly, trying to ignore the way his heart was suddenly racing.
His mind flooded with a thousand and one things that could happen if he wasn’t around, all the possibilities, all the ways that his kids could get themselves into trouble. He knew that they were smart, and capable, and resourceful, but they were also twelve. Twelve year olds who had fought against hell. Twelve year olds that needed deserved to have someone to protect them for once.
And Steve needed the kids too if he could be painfully honest with himself.
“It’s nice, actually. Fills up the time, and better than them just being left alone to get into trouble,” Steve said with a nervous little laugh, forcing his face to stay easy and even. If he acted too weird about this, then Nancy would poke and prod until she found everything out, and Steve couldn’t deal with that right now.
It was hard enough to breathe as it was.
Nancy was giving him a searching look, pinning him down onto a corkboard and examining what she found there. He had already lost her, if he had ever had anything to actually lose, and now the thought of losing the kids because of her was making his stomach twist up in knots.
It wasn’t a fair thought, probably wasn’t even an accurate one, but Steve couldn’t make it go away.
“They are little trouble magnets,” Jonathan tacked on, clearly not understanding what was happening between the two of them, “But you seem to have them well handled.”
Something about what Jonathan said made Stvee’s breath come a little easier, and he forced his shoulders to relax. No one was taking the kids away from him. No one was doing anything.
Steve was just overreacting like he always seemed to do these days.
“Yeah,” Steve responded, just so the ball was out of his court again. He couldn’t stand needing to be the one to say the next thing to cut through the silence.
Unexpectedly, it wasn’t Nancy or Jonathan that took that next step.
It was Eddie.
“Yo, Harrington!”
Every head in the library shot up, except Steve’s. He cringed, ducking his head low and trying to avoid the stares that were starting to come towards him. Eddie, who never really seemed to care who was looking and who wasn’t, continued to wave at him with big over the top gestures, trying to coax Steve over to his table.
“Is that Eddie Munson?” Nancy asked, perplexed.
Steve very quickly saw the out that had been offered and grabbed it with both hands. He stood up and began to stuff his papers and books into his backpack.
“Yeah, that’s Eddie. I better go see what he wants, but I’ll see you guys around, yeah?” He said, sliding around the table and giving them a wave, rushing away before Nancy could ask any of the other questions starting to form.
Eddie settled down when he saw Steve coming his way. He was alone at his table, completely surrounded by scraps of paper and open books. He loomed over them all, trying valiantly to make a tiny space for Steve to put his bag as he took the only free seat.
“What’s up?” Steve asked, not exactly sure why Eddie wanted his company.
“Nothing,” Eddie immediately replied, waiting a second and clearly enjoying the look of confusion Steve gave him before continuing, “Just thought I’d save you from that,”
He looked past Steve, and when Steve turned around, Nancy and Jonathan were openly staring at the two of them. Well, half of the library was openly staring, but whatever. Steve couldn’t care anymore.
“My hero,” He said sarcastically, turning back in his seat and resting his chin on top of his backpack.
“Why were they bothering you?” Eddie asked, futzing with his papers.
“They weren’t, just sitting,” Steve said, not quite on the defensive yet, but still feeling that urge to protect starting to hum in the back of his mind.
He had heard some of the things people were saying about the whole situation, and he hated the thought of Nancy or Jonathan catching heat. They hadn’t done anything wrong, at least, nothing that bad. They shouldn't have to deal with defending themselves right at the start of their relationship. It wasn’t really their fault that it just happened to come at the death of Steve’s.
“That’s weird,” Eddie stated, unintentionally treading right into dangerous territory, “I mean, it’s not like you guys are friends,”
“We are,” Steve protested automatically. Eddie raised a brow, and he faltered, trying to find the right words, “Well- I mean…”
Were they?
They didn’t really have all that much in common, and every single time they spoke it was clear all three of them weren’t really ready to be close, but Steve still considered them friends.
At the very least, Nancy and Jonathan were incredibly important people in his life, even if they weren't necessarily his friends. There were a few things that permanently bonded people, and killing an actual real life demon was one of those things.
But he couldn’t tell Eddie any of that.
“It’s complicated,” Steve settled on, hating how cliche that sounded. Eddie’s brow furrowed and he rubbed his thumb across his lower lip as he thought about what he wanted to say next.
It was honestly kind of cute.
“Nancy cheated on you,” Eddie stated bluntly.
Less cute now.
Steve flinched back, unable to help his first reaction. Cheating was such a harsh word, burning and bloody. It evoked images of The Hawk, and spray paint staining his fingers for months on end. He had promised himself he would never accuse anyone of it ever again unless he absolutely 100% knew for sure that it had happened.
Except, in this case, he did. Jonathan had told him, clearly scared out of his mind, but he had still manned up and told him. They had slept together when they were at that dude’s house, the one who helped Nancy get justice for Barb. Steve had listened, put the information in a little box in his mind, and put the box on a shelf.
Because that’s what Steve did. He just pretended he was okay no matter what, because he didn’t know any other way to be. He pretended like the sight of his pool didn’t make him nauseous, and he pretended like they hadn’t all almost died, and he pretended like he didn’t wake up gasping for air at least twice a week.
Steve pretended, because he didn’t know how to live with everything that had happened. But Nancy did, and Jonathan did, and the issue here was obviously Steve, not them. He had pretended Nancy right into Jonathan’s arms, and he had no one to blame for that except himself.
So, was it really cheating when it was Steve’s fault that it happened?
Nancy was right. He was really just…bullshit.
And yet, all of that also fell into the category of ‘Things Steve Wasn’t Legally Allowed to Tell Eddie’. He just had to go for the bullshit pretending answer.
“Yeah. She cheated on me.”
“That doesn’t sound too complicated,” Eddie said with a shrug and Steve leaned back in his chair, staring down at his hands which were fisted up in his khakis.
“Well it is,” Steve replied moodily, “It’s really fucking complicated, and I really don’t want to talk about it,”
“But she hurt you,” Eddie said, still using that stupid statement voice.
“Yeah, she hurt me, but I love her so-” Steve cut himself off, biting his tongue harshly. Yeah, he still loved her, but admitting that was fucking pathetic.
And yet, Steve was pretty sure a part of him was going to love Nancy Wheeler for the rest of his life.
“So that makes it okay?” Eddie asked, and Steve sighed, exhausted with the conversation.
“It means I can forgive her,” He said softly, trying to will his heart to stop aching, “It means I still want her in my life. Jonathan too. We’ve gone through stuff together. It’d be weird if we didn’t become friends after everything that’s happened,”
That was still probably too much to say, but Steve almost felt like he owed Eddie that much. The guy had done nothing but try to help, try to be supportive; he wanted to give him some kind of explanation for why he was continuing to torture himself with the sight of his ex and Jonathan.
Eddie still seemed pretty confused, and Steve doubted he even half understood, but his eyes had softened up, looking at Steve in a way that made his stomach feel funny. Not in the same way it had before with Nancy, just…funny.
“You’re a strange creature, Steve Harrington,” Eddie finally said, giving Steve a slow sweet smile. Steve shook his head, shooting Eddie a wry grin.
“And you, Eddie Munson, are a nosy jackass,” He snarked. Eddie laughed, too loud for the quiet library. Everything about Eddie was too much, always. He stood out from the crowd- no he didn’t just stand out, he forced himself out. Everyone had to notice him, everyone had to see. Steve, who had always done everything he could to blend in, to become one of the popular crowd, it was thrilling.
“Too true my liege,” Eddie said, inclining his head ever so slightly, “How’s your character coming?”
Steve rolled his eyes, digging around in his bag to grab the offending enemy, waving it around his head.
“Well, if I could stop wanting to hurl this book into the Quarry, I think I would be making progress,”
“What did the player handbook ever do to you?” Eddie gasped in mock horror, reaching up to pluck the book from Steve’s grasp and hold it protectively against his chest. Steve, already used to Eddie’s theatrics from their few interactions, just scowled and crossed his arms.
“It’s long, overly complicated, and the letters keep jumping around,” He griped.
Eddie slid out of the persona he had created as quickly as he had come into it, cocking his head to the side and making those bambi eyes somehow even bigger.
“Jumping around?” Eddie questioned.
“Yeah, but that one is really kind of an every book situation. I’m not big on reading. School’s just not my thing. Give me a ball or a kid to wrangle, that’s where I shine,” Steve said in a joking tone, trying to steer the conversation to other places. If he could get Eddie on a rant about basketball, or teasing him for babysitting, then they wouldn’t have to talk about his difficulties with reading.
And Steve really did not want to talk about his difficulties with reading.
It wasn’t exactly like he was ashamed of not really being able to read, except he really fucking was. What kind of person got to their senior year of high school and still couldn’t manage to read more than a page without wanting to give up? What kind of person still couldn’t manage to spell a single full sentence correctly at almost eighteen?
An idiot. That’s who.
But, if Eddie hadn’t already realized how much of a numbskull Steve was, then he wasn’t all that anxious to show his new friend. Everyone in Eddie’s circle was just like his kids, wicked smart and unafraid to flaunt it. If Eddie figured out just how much Steve really didn’t belong with them, he might change his mind about having Steve around.
No, on the whole, it was just better to derail the conversation. But Eddie didn’t seem to want to be derailed.
“What page are you on?” He asked Steve, his face frustratingly neutral.
Steve bit the tip of his tongue, contemplating just how far he might get in a lie. Would fifty pages be too obvious? Maybe he could say twenty five, and try to get Eddie on a rambling tangent before he began quizzing Steve on statistics. But as Steve went to open his mouth to try and spin a story that might work, Eddie held up a hand, cutting him off.
“Hey, I don’t judge. I just failed an essay because apparently Star Wars isn’t ‘an appropriate choice for analyzing the Hero’s Journey’,” Eddie said in a mocking false voice, handing the essay over as evidence.
A big fat ‘F’ sat at the top of the paper, circled in red. Steve’s brow furrowed, and he put it down, grabbing his own essay out of his bag. He and Eddie weren’t in the same class, but they did have the same teacher.
She had given Steve a ‘C’, and Steve’s essay was only two pages to Eddie’s five.
“Wait, do you mean the big wheel thing?” Steve asked. Eddie nodded, his mouth screwed up into a frustrated pout. Steve picked up his notebook and flipped to a clean page, drawing out a circle.
“But it works perfectly, why would she tell you it didn’t?” Steve made a mark at the top of the circle, “Leia’s hologram is Luke’s call to action, the force is his supernatural thing, his inciting incident is his aunt and uncle being killed, Obi Wan is the mentor, the robots are the helpers, and then Han is too. And Chewie! Obi Wan dying is the abyss, and then Luke transforms at the death star, becomes a jedi, and saves the galaxy.”
Steve continued to make little doodles along the edges of the wheel, muttering to himself. It was a really good example actually, and he was kind of jealous. He had just used The Odyssey like their teacher had suggested, but Star Wars was a way cooler option.
Why had she failed Eddie? At the very least he should have gotten a ‘C’ like Steve did. Even if she didn’t like what he had written, he had put in way more effort than Steve had.
Then, he noticed how quiet the table had gotten. He looked up briefly, and Eddie was looking at him, his jaw dropped, eyes wide in a whole different way.
“What?” He asked, unsure of why exactly Eddie was just staring at him.
“Steve, how is it possible that you just perfectly outlined the hero’s journey, but school ‘isn’t’ your thing?”
He squirmed in his seat, instantly uncomfortable. His parents liked to say things like that- he was smart, but he was just lazy. If he tried, then he would get better grades.
Steve would be at a dinner or some other stupid social function that he was dragged to and say something that was apparently impressively insightful, which should have been the right thing to do.
It never was.
Instead of praising him, his parents would always shake their heads, look at their friends, and sigh that if Steve just applied himself, he would do better. That they had done their best, and clearly he had the ability, he just lacked work ethic.
It didn’t matter how many times Steve attempted to explain that he was trying, that he stayed up all night sometimes, just trying and trying and trying. They didn’t care.
Eddie didn’t seem to mean it the same way as they usually did, but it was close enough to make Steve want to curl up in a ball and disappear.
“This is a picture. Pictures don’t move,” Steve said, mentally praying for the bell to ring, but knowing it wasn’t going to. They still had at least a half hour left in the period. Plenty of time for Eddie to ‘try and help’ which would probably just end with Steve being even more humiliated than he already was.
“What if I read it out loud to you?” Eddie offered.
It was a genuine offer, Steve could tell that it was. It was sweet, and it was kind, and Steve could never accept it.
“You don’t have to,” Steve protested, ignoring the part of his mind that thought it might be nice to get to listen to Eddie talk. He was a gifted storyteller, and Steve was always greedy for stories, even though they were so inaccessible to him.
Still, he wasn’t some toddler sitting on his mother’s lap, and Eddie wasn’t holding a picture book.
“I just want to get what I need to make a character, that’s all,” Steve said. He just wanted to be able to do enough that he would get by fairly okay during the next Hellfire meeting. He just wanted to be able to prove that he did want to join them.
“Then, I’ll read the parts you need for that, and I’ll help you fill in whatever gaps,” Eddie amended, reaching out yet again. He even physically reached this time, leaning over the table and squeezing Steve’s wrist once before settling back.
Steve opened his mouth to agree, to just say yes, but his voice was failing him. The words were stuck in his throat, and no matter how hard he tried to force them out, they just wouldn’t budge.
“Sweetheart, I’m a super senior,” He pointed out with a little self-deprecating laugh, “I’m in no position to judge. And, even if I was, I wouldn’t.”
There it was again.
Sweetheart.
Eddie had called him that after Hellfire, and Steve had brushed it off, considering it a fluke or a slip of the tongue. Given the deer in headlights look he had given Steve the second he said it, that wasn’t a bad call.
This clearly was not the same. Eddie had meant to call him ‘Sweetheart’ this time, knowing that Steve wasn’t necessarily going to mind it. He chewed on his lip, worrying it between his teeth as he tried to figure out why exactly he didn’t mind Eddie calling him a pet name.
It was the kind of thing Steve usually used for girls he was trying to woo, the kind of thing a guy would say to a girl. He had never heard a guy call another guy ‘Sweetheart’ before, but no matter how hard he searched, Steve couldn’t find a single part of himself that minded. Sure, he was confused by it, but it wasn’t upsetting or anything.
Just weird.
Not even weird in a bad way, and wasn’t that a head trip?
Fuck it. He already had enough on his plate as it was. Steve didn’t have the time or the energy to try and figure that one out.
He got up from his chair and came around to the other side, sitting on Eddie’s left the way he had during the Hellfire meeting the week before. Eddie beamed, settling down and putting the book on the table between them both. Steve didn’t need to say yes, Eddie just knew, and for that he was grateful. He was already struggling enough as it was.
“What page?” Eddie asked again, dipping his voice low and letting it melt the icy walls that Steve always kept around him.
“Eight,” He said, pausing to gauge Eddie’s reaction.
There was none. No snort of derision, no sigh, no head shake. Eddie just nodded, flipping to the right page. Steve let out a soft breath, forcing his body to relax.
It was Eddie. He wouldn’t judge.
“I was on the part talking about levels,” Steve added, taking the risk to lean in and let their arms brush up against each other. Eddie stilled for all of two seconds before going back to totally nonchalant.
“Perfect. I could use a refresher anyway.” Eddie said, rolling his neck and shoulders to stretch quickly before clearing his throat in an over dramatic fashion, just to make Steve laugh.
There it was again. The weird feeling in his stomach.
Steve ignored it. He ignored their arms, ignored ‘Sweetheart’, ignored his ex and everything that came with her, and even ignored the very world around them. None of it mattered, not right now. He pushed all thoughts away, letting himself get lost in Eddie’s voice and the universe he created with it.
“Typically, a character starts at 1st level and advances in level by adventuring and gaining experience points (XP). A 1st-level character is inexperienced in the adventuring world, although he or she might have been a soldier or a pirate and done dangerous things before….”
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