#dyslexic steve

[stranger-stardustt]

Worth more than dirt

written for ‘hole’ wc: 404 | rated: G | cw: none | Tags: Dyslexic!Steve, Pre-relationship | @steddiemicrofic

“You spelled that wrong,” Eddie said, leaning over Steve’s shoulder. 

Steve looked up at him. “Spelled what wrong?” he asked, eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. 

“Whole.” Eddie pulled a chair toward Steve and sat in it, legs spread wide and elbows on the table. “It’s w-h-o-l-e in this case. You spelled it h-o-l-e, like a hole in the ground or something.” He pointed to the word, and Steve leaned in to look at it. 

“Oh,” he said slowly. “Thanks.”

Eddie grinned a grin that made Steve’s heart pound in his chest. “No problem, Harrington,” he said, leaning into Steve. Their shoulders brushed together, and the contact sent jolts down Steve’s spine. “Is it done yet?”

Following Eddie's gaze, Steve looked down at his paper. He blushed, running a hand through his hair before speaking. “I think so, yeah. But it’s not very good. I mean, how am I supposed to get into college if I can’t even spell?”

“Let me see it,” Eddie said, snatching the paper from the table. He stood, humming as he scanned the page. Steve fidgeted nervously in his chair. After a few minutes, Eddie looked back at Steve, the serious expression on his face not even lasting a second before splitting into a grin. “Not very good my ass!” he exclaimed, lunging forward and pulling Steve from his chair. He grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him. “Stevie, this is incredible! Sure, there’s a few spelling and grammar errors here and there but…” he paused, looking Steve in the face. His hands were still on the other man’s arms. “This is really great, dude. Stop selling yourself short.”

With a blush, Steve glanced at the ground. “I’m sure you’re just trying to make me feel better,” he muttered, and Eddie raised an eyebrow.

“I would never lie to such a pretty face.” Eddie pulled Steve forward, their bodies nearly pressed together. “You think I’d lie to you, Stevie?”

Steve shrugged. “You could be suspending the truth.” He watched as Eddie’s face dropped. “What?”

The corner of Eddie’s mouth quirked upward, his expression softening. “You don’t get it, do you?” he asked. His hands fell from Steve’s arms and instead found their way to his hands, squeezing them tightly. “You’re smart, Steve. You have passion, and it shows in that essay. So for everyone's sake, stop acting like you’re worth less than dirt.”

All Steve could do was smile.

[stevesbipanic]

@steddielovemonth Day 27: Love is just a four-letter word. @sal-si-puedes

Reading and writing had never come easy to Steve. Surprisingly, numbers had been easy, which definitely helped as he moved into retail later in life. Letters though, they were often his enemy.

Nancy was a big reason he even was able to graduate let alone write college essays. He'd have her check and recheck until all the letters sat in their correct spots.

Working at Scoops had been relatively easy, he learnt what flavours looked like rather than reading their labels, memorizing their menu by reading it over and over again until he was sure he knew everything on it.

Working at Family Video had been harder, a lot more titles and words to read. Miserably watching the letters jump into wrong places, often placing titles in B rather than D.

Robin helped, mentioned a cousin with dyslexia, suggested a doctor but after Starcourt you'd have to drag him to a doctor. Instead he mostly manned the till, stocked the candy and rewound tapes.

He thought about college again, thought about his future and what he wanted. He knew everything would involve reading though so he put a pin in that for later, although becoming a math teacher sounded nice, he liked numbers and kids.

Part of him was jealous that he couldn't be someone to read to Eddie as he lay in the hospital, all the kids took turns, he didn't even know if Eddie would want him to read to him.

Eddie brought a new wave of words to his life, but in loud rambles like Robin. Steve expressed how he wished he could read as much as Eddie, explaining his difficulties.

"I could read to you?"

Steve smiled at Eddie's blush.

"I'd like that."

It became a thing to chase away nightmares, soft words lulling the younger boy to sleep, Eddie never seemed to mind claiming a bedmate helped with the nightmares.

Now Steve was in a new predicament. Butterflies in his stomach every time Eddie would use his soft voice knowing Steve was almost asleep or when they'd curl up together every movie night.

"You like Eddie!"

"Ok we're just skipping over me liking guys, yes I like Eddie!"

"Has more talent than Tammy I'll give you that."

He sat at his desk now, surrounded by scrunched up pieces of paper, "This was a stupid idea!"

"What you working on, Stevie?"

Shit, was it 3 o'clock already!? He hadn't heard Eddie get here, he wasn't meant to see this yet, it wasn't perfect yet.

"Um, nothing?"

"That a question or a statement, sweetheart?" Eddie laughed softly walking over to the desk quickly peering over Steve's shoulder before Steve had a chance to cover it.

"Aw a Valentine's letter! Who's the lucky lady that has Steve Harrington writing, she must be pretty special." There was a tightness in Eddie's voice but Steve could only feel the flush rising in his cheeks.

"They are and they're always writing such lovely words I wanted to show them I was serious." Steve said hoping Eddie didn't pick up he didn't say she.

"Let me take a look, Stevie, you know I don't mind proofreading your stuff," the paper was in Eddie's hands before Steve could stop him.

Roses are red, but you only like black,

You're so brave, always having my back.

Valentine's Day, only one thing to do,

Telling you, how much I levo you!

Happy Valentine's Day Eddie!

Love your, Stevie

Steve wanted Hawkins to open up again just to swallow him up. Eddie was quiet which he never is which terrified Steve.

After a moment Eddie reached over Steve again grabbing the pencil and carefully crossing out a word in the poem.

I levo love you

"I love you too, sweetheart, spelling mistakes and all."

And that was something Steve didn't need any help reading.

[ickypuppi3]

[hotluncheddie]

having autistic high masking steve thoughts..

steve harrington who’s black and white is these are the rules and you follow them. you turn up at school, you show your face at dinner, you do your hair and brush your teeth and speak when your spoken to. steve harrington who doesn’t want to be alone at lunch, knows that making friends in important because it’s the only thing his mother asked him after his first day, and he wants to be able to say ‘yes’ if she ever asks again. steve who loves to swim but hates how the shower water beats on his skin after, how the shampoo always get all over his face and he’s never given time to wipe it off in the right way, can’t seem to say how it makes him want to scream. all he knows he can’t scream because that’s ‘bad behaviour steven’ and then he won’t be able to swim. so he swallows it, he detaches, he only half exists in the shower and he feels a mass of dark smoke churn in his chest.

steve harrington who heard what the other kids said, how they spoke about the older kids, how people spoke on the tv. learned that when he grew up that he’d need to talk to girls like he wanted to date them, kiss them. talk to guys like he enjoyed hearing about their weekends, even if they were mean and annoying. even is he didn’t care and noticed how they never asked about him. but you’re not allowed to say that; your annoying, i don’t care, you make me feel bad. you have to listen and smile and fit in and be liked. not matter what.

steve harrington who’s smart and sensible and is good at recognising patterns. who knows how to survive, no matter how uncomfortable he is. no matter how tired he is by the evening, mind blasting static, no room do anything other than lay there. he doesn’t really know what he likes because he has no energy to do anything, anything other than going to school and go on dates. he got good at hiding how reading takes so long and writing never comes out in the right order first time. how so often he feels like his skin needs to just come off. how that scream is still sitting at the base of his throat.

he dreams of running away, to hide and just, be quiet. everything just need to be quiet and dark, for a little bit. for a while. but it can’t be, because he has to show his face, has to do his hair.

and then monsters exist. and steve survives, because he has to, because he can. he knows his role in the story, so he fights and he cares and he protects and he keeps talking to girls and he keeps brushing his teeth and when he gets beaten up it hurts, it’s uncomfortable, but what’s more discomfort when every day is uncomfortable. he’s always been uncomfortable but how can he ever not be, he has to follow the rules.

hurt/comfort pt2 & snippet pt3

ao3

[getyourjollies]

my the outsiders printing hcs and a little blurb about all of them 😌

ponyboy: pretentious af, absolutely tiny printing, mocks everyone else’s (except curlys), writes cringey love letters to curly in the most elaborate cursive ever even though he can’t read it, soda also can’t read it

soda: abhorrent printing, can barely read his own writing (or any writing), no one else can read it either, dyslexic af, failed kindergarten

darry: thinks the uppercase makes his printing look grown up, gets mocked by his brothers who say he doesn’t know lowercase, writes his whole name every. single. time.

steve: thinks the way he writes his ‘e’ is special, constantly asked by soda why there is a three in his writing (it’s the e), soda can barely read it

two-bit: doesn’t really care about his printing, can be really messy but only when he’s writing fast, letters really close together, soda can barely read it

johnny: somewhat neat printing, but super flat, fast writer, loves writing with pens and hates pencils, soda struggles to read it due to the flatness

dally: cannot read anything except for names of people he knows and words that are familiar to him, can write his own name and barely anything else, fucking stupid, pony tried to teach him how to read and nearly got murdered

curly: only writes in lowercase cause he hates tim and wanted to be different from him (he writes in all uppercase) hates writing cause his hands cramp, pony loves his printing

tim: hates how similar his printing is to darry’s so he changes it up sometimes, very squished letters (used to be different [less squished] but it was too similar to darry’s)

[soupinaboot]

Fuck it. Every Steve Harrington headcannon I have because I've been rotating that boy in my head like a pig on a stick Part 2 this is a little more in depth than the first one but only by a smug

- Epileptic, either since he was young or developed it over time due to all those concussions he keeps getting

- Favorite fruit is blackberries I have no reason

- Kinda sad but he never really had friends, yeah he hung out with Tommy and Carol but that was about it. Like after the fall out with them he was by himself, alone. I feel like if he was as popular as we think he is, he would have at least one other friend right?

- Does not have a filter at all. That one scene where he just casually says, "Oh yeah my parents are out of town because my mom doesn't trust him to not cheat on her any who!" and I feel like he just kinda does that

- Star Trek fan but he just does not comprehend that it's supposed to be nerdy (this is not my own I saw someone else headcannon this please tell me if you find them I can not)

- Absolutely sucked at ELA, could be cause of dyslexia or not whatever you want buttercup

- But on the topic of dyslexia, this headcannon is one of the main reasons why I love math nerd Stevie so much. Like, ELA test and History test are mostly long paragraphs that he needs more time to read through and his teachers don't care enough to give him extra time like he needs. But math tests tend to have a small paragraph that he can read faster or just focus on the numbers and finish on time, so he just got really good at math so he would have at least one class he passed

- Survives off of coffee, lord knows he needs it

- My most random headcannon is that since his parents were never really around or cared much for his safety, he used to hang out outside a lot and explore the wildlife around, got really into nature and animals, bought nature books etc. But his dad told him nature and animals were girly and forced him to stop even though he really loved it

- If he does ever go to college (which he doesn't have to, though if Robin went he would probably go with her), he would either get in education major and become a math teacher or some form of environmental degree

- His love language is quality time

- Among the three of them, Steve and Carol were the closest. Yes, Steve and Tommy met first, and yes they tend to call each other their best friends, but in actuality Carol and Steve were best friends. They have mean girl energy.

- He used to also play hockey when he was younger but stopped playing due to scheduling and shit. But he really liked it cause whenever he would practice there were these older figure skaters who would teach him figure skating (he kinda liked it more than hockey but he never told anyone)

- Speaking of scheduling, he is always tired due to his packed schedule. Since he was young, his dad forced him into a lot of sports and didn't really give him a break. Add that to his piano lessons, his jobs, studying that his dad forced him to do, friends, etc... he is just perpetually tired. And it fucked up his sleep schedule developing into insomnia as he got older

- Most of his and Eddie's dates are just them taking naps

- Once he meets Corroded Coffin they all become best friends. Like best fucking friends

- Specifically Steve and Jeff

[riality-check]

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.

[otteranha]

The kids all read to Eddie, it’s good for him to hear their voices the doctors say. And Steve wants to, he wants so badly for his usefulness not to be over already. But even with all his old tricks from school, with all the underlining and going line-by-line, he struggles with the language and tiny print in Tolkien, and Herbert might be even worse. Usually he ends up moving the bookmark ahead more than he’s really read just so Dustin won’t look at him like that.

He feels foolish, useless, like a big dumb drag on the group, not doing his part when Eddie needs this, needs to hear people, his people. And when Steve runs out of things to say he can’t even read to him like everyone else can. Hell, even Wayne comes after 12 hour shifts and reads until he can’t stay awake. Steve’s failing Eddie again and it’s making him crazy.

He’s walking past the hospital gift shop when he sees the book. It’s a kiddie book. Obviously, it’s way too childish for Eddie, there’s a mouse on the cover for crying out loud. But the title is printed in that old-timey font, like something Dustin would use to write ~spells~ for their little game and when Steve skims the first chapter it’s easy to read. He brings the book back to Eddie’s room with him. 

Later, Eddie swears that he absolutely heard the first part that Steve read, coma be damned, he just made Steve start from the beginning because he wanted Dustin and the rest of them to hear the whole thing. Later still, when they bring home their first foster kid, Eddie will pull a battered copy of Redwall off the shelf and ask if she wants to hear a bedtime story.

[strawberryspence]

I can't stop thinking of Steve and Eddie both thinking they don't deserve the other.

Steve's just naturally thinks like that because of his history. He was objectively a mean person in high school before the Upside Down and he just feels like Eddie would wake up one day and realize he can do better. So he does his best. He learns D&D, tries to listen and keep up with metal music, goes to concerts with Eddie, he makes amends with the Eddie's other friends, tries to impress Wayne, even tries reading LOTR even if the fucking words are moving so much. He just wants Eddie to be happy.

Eddie on the other hand just thinks this will all go away one day. It's Steve Harrington for fucks sake. He can have anyone he wants and he deserves so much better than him. So he does his best. He tries to take care of Steve as best as he can, listen to all the ABBA the world can offer, he tries to keep up with the kids, even tries to bake because Steve has a sweet tooth, he tries his best to not leave Steve in that big, quiet house all alone. He just wants Steve to be happy.

And Jesus H. Christ, they're both fucking idiots. One day it just clicks, they're 30, still happy and together, the kids just left after their monthly get togethers, Robin's sleeping in her own room in their home. They're happy and together.

They lay down side by side in their shared bed and it just clicks, they deserve this.

[morganbritton132]

Eddie posting a Tiktok talking about CC’s new merch and how they’re actually his designs while Steve is losing his mind in the background because he can’t find the wallet he just had. Towards the end of the video, Eddie stops talking because Steve comes into the frame and glares at him.

Eddie, smiling: Hey, big boy, miss me?

Steve, narrowing his eyes: Give it to me

Eddie: Give you what, my heart?

Steve: Seriously, Ed, Dustin is waiting-

Eddie: *holds up the wallet he stole but pulls it away when Steve reaches for it* tell me you love me

Steve: Until the day I die *kissing Eddie so aggressively that he drops his phone*

Steve, while the camera is facing the awful shag rug Eddie put in his studio: Gotta go, TTLY. Love you, devil boy.

[jarviscockerssecrethusband]

One thing I love about the harringrove fandom is the agreement both that Steve is dyslexic and Billy is a MASSIVE reader.

Because while Steve’s always been surrounded by teachers or his parents or exes who either believe that he’s incapable of appreciating reading or that he just doesn’t care, Billy thinks that’s bullshit.

Because when Billy gets told to tutor Steve in English, he doesn’t start with a book for toddlers or fucking Shakespeare. They start with Billy reading him Wuthering Heights.

And at first Steve does not fucking get it. He doesn’t understand the plot, the message and especially not the dialect. But he finds himself enjoying it a lot. Billy’s a natural storyteller. He could be on stage.

Billy’s taste in books is both eclectic and weird. He’s reading Finnigan’s Wake for fun. In Irish. He likes Portuguese romance books and German surrealism and a lot of George Orwell. So much so that Steve kind of feels that love rubbing off on him.

He’d used to like reading. Before he was told he was doing it wrong. And even though he despised the books set by Hawkins High with every fibre of his being, there was this fire set in his belly, a want to impress Billy.

So he starts with The Hobbit. Eddie “Freak” Munson’s the only other dyslexic Steve knew and he loved that shit. How hard could it be?

The Hobbit is fucking difficult. It starts with a map, Steve thinks is in Elvish and some of the chapters feel like they go on forever. The words still bounce around the page and switch constantly. He likes it though. It’s weirdly fun as a story and he finds himself rooting for Bilbo.

Henderson can never know. That is the one thing Steve is certain of.

Billy doesn’t laugh when Steve tells him that’s what he’d decided to start with. He just rolls his eyes, not meanly and says he used to read that with his mom. Back in Cali. Before Neil fucked everything up.

Billy reads a lot of Oscar Wilde. The Importance of Being Earnest is constantly tucked into his back, dog eared and well loved. Steve knows enough about Oscar Wilde to know what that indicates.

Billy’s a poof. A faggot. A queer.

Billy is like Steve.

He doesn’t have the courage to look out for anything gay. Nothing even that hints at the matter. Steve knows that his dad has The Iliad tucked away in his office. He’s away on business while his mom sits in the kitchen and complains about America. Even after 15 years in the States, she still misses Poland.

His daring heist after she goes to bed leads to him sitting on the kitchen floor, crying about Achilles and Patroclus. Billy’s right, classics are a fucking bummer.

Steves not as stupid as other people think. He knows that if this were a book, him and Billy are hurtling towards deaths door. Even in real life, he’s seen the guys on tv, worn down to the bone on hospital beds.

Gay does not equal a happy ending.

He resolves to never touch The Iliad again.

Billy comes to their next session with a black eye and his mullet chopped off. They don’t talk about it.

1984 is depressing. And surprisingly apt for how Steve feels that his 1984 has gone. He does feel like he’s constantly being watched. Like being in love is illegal. Like saying anything too far against the government will have consequences.

Steve asks if Billy thinks Orwell wrote 1984 about America or Russia. Billy snorts but doesn’t answer.

That’s the note they end on for the year.

Christmas comes and goes. So does New Year. Two months of not seeing Billy aches in his gut.

Then he comes back.

It’s the middle of February. Billy’s been kicked out for a week. Steves playing nursemaid.

He’s beaten up pretty bad. Still, Billy insists he’s had worse.

Steve hedges around asking why it happened. Like the confirmation might suddenly make the full scope of their plight real.

Still, eventually Steve asks. Billy looks at him like he’s particularly simple.

He’s gay. Obviously Steve. And he actually has the balls to go out there, meet men, dance. Even if it does mean getting caught by Neil.

During his explanation, Steve notices they’ve gotten closer together. Like significantly closer.

They’re grazing hands. Electric.

Then Billy moves.

Billy kisses him and Steve’s world turns into a fucking supernova.

They kiss and it doesn’t make Neil vanish in a puff of smoke, it doesn’t make the shopkeepers who sneer at his mother go away, it doesn’t make Steve magically able to read.

But it does make Steve feel like maybe they’ll survive.

[withacapitalp]

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!!

----------

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….”

Tag List: @paopaupaus @zerokrox-blog @surferboyzaza @whatever-is-a-good-name @minjintea @addelyin @5ammi90 @hagbaby420 @shinekocreator @bornonthesavage @starxlark @electrick-marionnett @resident-gay-bitch @ash-a-confused-enby @classicdinosaurdeathpose @valon-whomsttf @rotten-lil-goblin @thereindeerlady @love-ya-kash @kerlypride @sparkle-fiend @thefreakandthehair @flowercrowngods @milf-harrington @sadcanadianwinter @gothbat99 @hotcocoaharrington @henderdads @lightwoodbanethings @colorful565 @h0n3y-dw @craterbbox @sourw0lfs @lesliiieeeee @bidisastersworld @tinynebula @ravnlinn @bonescaro @mexmatch @cottagecoredreams @joruni @hellykelly @maegan1116 @farewell-wanderlvst @desertfern @due-to-the-fact-that-im-a-slut @anythingforourmoonyedits @eerielake @fandemonium-takes-its-toll @sidekick-hero

[rainingpouringetc]

i think that we as a fandom have gotten away from the idea of eddie reading the lord of the rings to steve and it is imperative that we return that little detail to as many fics as possible as soon as possible

[ickypuppi3]

them in these

[themunsonmurders]

Was looking at the Harrington home online to scout out how many rooms it had, n there was a list of rooms other than bedrooms and bathrooms, n one of them was a recreation room. Now I can't stop thinking about a pool table that sits in the rec room all day long that Steve knows every nook and cranny of. When he's bored and everyone is too busy to hang out with, he goes to the pool table and plays game after game after game.

Queue Eddie coming over, seeing the pool table, and offhandedly saying how he doesn't really know how to play. Steve, who has the biggest fucking crush on him, sees an opening. He tells him he'll teach him. Even if by the end of it Eddie still forgoes some rules and asks Steve to make his hits for him, he can't get rid of the burn on his fingers from here his hands touched Eddie's — and he could never forget the sensation of Eddie's hair brushing against his cheek.

[sky-neverending]

dyslexic steve harrington who is also an insomniac and eddie decides to start reading him bedtime stories. he is against it at first but secretly it’s like his favorite thing every day. partly because the pictures and the way eddie tells the stories, but partly because no one had ever cared enough to try and help him like that before.