#eddie is an english teacher

[yours-etc]

You Better Make It Soon (Before You Break My Heart)

Monday mornings are the bane of Steve Harrington’s existence. His alarm clock was blaring when he woke up. It read 6:32 on the clock and Steve groaned as he sat up in his bed. Steve was in the middle of brushing his teeth when he heard Dustin’s alarm going off, and a few minutes later he heard Max’s. The twins insisted on having their own alarm clocks, saying having their dad wake them up for school in the sixth grade was embarrassing. Steve couldn’t lie, he got a bit too emotional about alarm clocks that day. 

While they may have grown out of Steve waking them up every day, they certainly haven't grown out of him making them breakfast and packing their lunches. Dustin gets 2 eggs, scrambled, and a slice of toast with grape jelly, for lunch it's a ham and cheese sandwich with a baggy of lays and a green apple. Max gets 2 eggs sunny side up, and 2 pieces of toast with butter, and lunch is a pb&j with strawberry jelly, a baggy of Fritos, and a banana. It's been this way since they could eat actual food. 

Steve could tell you every single thing about these kids. And to some parents, he was way too involved. He went to every science fair, school recital, and kiddie soccer games. To him, that was the bare minimum. As a kid, his parents never showed up for anything, always out of town on business. It didn’t matter now, he had cut contact with them the second he got the phone call from the hospital. That was the day he learned Jane was one, pregnant, and two left him the kids. 

Jane was his second girlfriend in high school, they had only been together for 6 months, but that was enough. Last he heard about her, she was somewhere in Nevada with a sparkly new family. Steve didn’t care that she had a new boyfriend, or husband, he cared that she had new kids, and never once bothered to check in on Max or Dustin. 

Steve was scared shitless driving to the hospital, Robin in the passenger seat. She read from a book of 100 baby names, going down the list. No names that start with J, B, or W was the only rule, “I’m not letting you give these beautiful new humans terrible names Steve, they're already having to deal with the legacy that is ‘King Steve’ at least let them have actually good names.”

He was grateful for Robin. She knew just how to distract him and focus on the good parts of the situation, rather than the terrible ones. In the end, they settled on Maxine and Dustin. So by the time they drove the two-hour trip to Indianapolis, they had at least the names ready, maybe not a crib, or food, or clothes, or dippers, but they had names. And at the time, that was a win in Steve’s book. 

Dustin was the first down the stairs. He almost falls on the last few steps.

Steve had to hold in a laugh, “Hey Dust buddy, I need you to slow down on the steps, you have enough trouble keeping your teeth in, I don't need you knocking extra ones out.”

The curly-headed boy sits down in his usual spot at the table, “That's a low blow Dad. And I'm sorry, you should be happy to have a kid that's excited for the first day of school. You know I could be out smoking crack or something! Instead, I'm going down the stairs a bit too excitedly. Count your blessings.”

“That was far too much for seven in the morning,” Max says walking in.

She had he hair back in a ponytail at the base of her neck. Steve knows she hates her hair in her face, she usually asks him to braid it, but apparently, she's grown out of that too.

“Alright gremlins eat up fast,” he sets down their plates in front of them, “can't be late for your first day.” 

If you ever wanted to experience the different levels of hell, school drop-off was the 7th. It's like grown adults lose all knowledge of driving the second they enter the parking lot. Steve worked at the high school right next to the middle school and grade school, he always parks in the staff parking and walks the kiddos to school. Unfortunately for him, however, was that the only entrance to the staff parking was only accessible through the middle school drop-off. At least the last two years and this next year he’ll actually have middle schoolers to drop off.

The middle school had a poster hanging up front “Class of 86’ is our year!”

Before he could even put the car in park the kids start to open the doors, “Hey, hey, hey,” they pause their movements, “First don't open doors on moving cars, don’t be reckless. Second, no getting out of the car before I hear those three magical words.”

“Do we have to?” Dustin asks from the back.

“Love you, Dad,” Max says at the same time. 

Steve leans over to the passenger seat and gives Max a kiss on the forehead, “And that's why you get shotgun.”

Max unlocks her door and off to the school doors. He hears Dustin unlock the doors in the back, but Steve hits the lock button. Dustin tries again, and Steve locks it.

The boy sighs, “Love you, Dad.” 

“Love you too Dust Buddy.” 

Finally, Dustin leaves the car and practically sprints to the school. Steve drove off, finally making it to the staff parking. 

He got a job as a PE and health teacher a few years after graduating high school. Technically he was a volunteer for the first 4 years. They couldn’t hire him as a teacher without a degree. So the school offered to give him the job if he took classes at Hawkins Community College. And for four years, Steve worked at the school during the day and took classes at night. The kids were in daycare for the day, and Robin came over every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday to watch the kids. Steve offered to pay her, but she refused any money. 

“As long as I can raid your fridge, and watch late-night cable, you can call it even Harrington.” 

Some days he was so exhausted that he wouldn't even make it to his bed, just crash on the couch. By the time he graduated with his degree, the kids were graduating from kindergarten.

And now look at them. A single dad who barely made it through high school, now a high school teacher with two straight-A kids. 

read more on ao3

[hairmetal666]

The note shows up in Eddie's mailbox cubby on Valentine's Day.

It's nothing fancy, loopy cursive handwriting on lined paper:

"I know this is probably silly but I can't go another day without saying it, and today seems appropriate for this kind of confession. Seeing you in the morning is the best part of my day. You're so gorgeous it leaves me breathless. I hope you don't mind if I don't leave my name. Just wanted you to know that you're beautiful."

His eyes fill with tears that he blinks back, a goofy smile stretching his mouth wide.

"You good there, Munson?" Robin Buckley asks.

"Oh, yup, yeah, all good." He laughs. "Just got one of those 'you're my favorite teacher Mr. Munson!' notes."

He squeezes the letter to his chest before slipping it in his pocket.

---

The worst thing about Eddie's new job is that someway, somehow, Steve-fucking-Harrington works here too. PE teacher, JV basketball coach, of-fucking-course. Once a douchebag jock, always a douchebag jock. What makes it all worse is that he's still the prettiest guy Eddie's ever seen.

---

The first week of March, there's a commotion in the hallway that has him rushing out of his room, ready to breakup a fight. He finds Harrington already there, holding Dustin Henderson and Will Byers by their shoulders. Troy Walsh and James Dante stand across from them, wearing matching snarls.

Of course Harrington is picking on little nerd kids; he knew it. But before he steps forwards to break it up, Steve speaks, voice low and angry. "You want to tell me what happened here, Troy?"

"Byers tripped. He really should watch where he's going," Troy says. James laughs.

Steve's glare goes even more icy, more disdainful (it's so fucking hot, Eddie hates it). "You want to take that again? And try being honest this time, or you're suspend from the team."

Troy splutters for long enough that Eddie finally notices Will's stricken face, the sketchpad and snapped colored pencils littering the linoleum.

"I saw you take those things from Will, and unfortunately, I'll have to call your parents and you will be responsible for purchasing a new sketchbook and pencils. You're also benched for the next four games."

The boys shout, but when Steve raises a hand they quiet immediately. "You want to complain more, or do you want it to be five games?"

"No, sir," they answer before scampering off.

Harrington faces Dustin and Will. "You boys okay?" he asks them.

"We're good, Mr. H," Dustin answers.

"Glad to hear it." Steve begins collecting Will's ruined belongings, stops to study one of the drawings.

"This is really good, Will."

Will flushes. "Thanks. It's my character for dnd,"

"Dnd? That's that game that El and Max are always talking about? With the character sheets and the dice?"

"Yeah!" says Dustin. "You know it?"

Steve's smile is a little bashful, and it tugs at Eddie's heart in a way he has to ignore. "Not much. Just from what the girls have said. You want to tell me about it?"

"Really?" Their eyes light up.

"Really. You can stop by the gym during lunch. Only if you want to, though."

"Cool," says Dustin.

He pats them both on the shoulder, and they hurry away, leaving Steve and Eddie suddenly alone.

Eddie should head back to his class, hasn't been needed in this situation at all, really, but before he can disappear, Steve spots him and his eyes widen.

"You need something, Munson?" Steve's cheeks go a faint pink.

He shakes his head, feels wrong-footed. "Uh, that was really cool what you did just there."

"They're really good kids," Steve says. "I know them a little. Used to babysit El Hopper." He slides his hands into the pockets of his khakis and, seriously, fuck Harrington for looking like that in a pair of Dockers.

"Babysitter, Harrington? Never thought I'd see the day. Or that you'd be the one defending a bunch of nerds," Eddie says. He means it teasing, but Steve's face warps into a frown.

"Y--yeah, I guess. I mean. I'm trying not to be that guy anymore, and Robin's really helped--"

"Shit, man, I'm sorry. That's not what I meant, at all--"

"--I feel terrible about all that shit I pulled back in school. That King Steve stuff? I was awful and you didn't deserve--"

"Steve!" Eddie cuts him off. "I forgive you. For everything." He looks down at his shoes. "For all I didn't want to believe it, you really have changed."

They're both pink faced now, avoiding each other's eyes. "Thanks," Steve says. "I should get going, but--for the future-- I really wouldn't mind--um--trying to be friends."

The grin that passes across Eddie's face is huge. "Yeah, Harrington, I'd like that."

Eddie has to run to make it to his classroom on time. He passes Dustin and Will and the rest of their gaggle of friends, rushing them along, but forgets all about it as he steps in front of his third period juniors.

---

He and Steve are...friendly now. They chat, they joke, they share smiles that have Eddie's heart beating too fast even though it's not like that. Turns out Steve is kind and funny (a little bit of a bitch too, but in a way that ties Eddie's stomach in knots), and a hell of a teacher.

---

His freshman are in small groups, peer-reviewing an essays, when Max Mayfield catches his eye. She's one of his favorite students and absolute trouble.

"What's up, Mayfield." He asks.

"Are you friends with Mr. Harrington?" She asks.

He chuckles. "Sure, Max, we're friendly enough. Why?"

She narrows her eyes, like she knows he's not being totally honest. "Oh, nothing. He just talks about you all the time."

He's blushing horribly and Max, and all of her friends, smirk up at him. "He does?" He chokes out.

"Mmhmm," Lucas Sinclair says. "Says he thinks you're really cool."

"Definitely one of the best teachers here," Mike Wheeler adds.

Eddie rolls his eyes. "Okay, very funny, guys. How're your essays going?"

They answer, but before Eddie goes to help another group, Will says, "he really does like you, Mr. Munson. A lot."

El nods earnestly up at him. "It is true," she says. "I know him."

"Thanks, kids. I'll keep that in mind." He gives them a smile, tries not to let their words get to him. When he reaches the next group, though, he notices his hands are shaking.

---

Gifts start turning up in Eddie's cubby. It starts with a bag of oatmeal chocolate chip cookies from his favorite bakery. There's a small note that says "from your secret admirer," on the packaging. Every two weeks or so, something new shows up in his little mailbox; a woven friendship bracelet, a yellow rose, Hershey kisses, a delicately painted dnd figure that gives Eddie a small crisis because it's his own bard character, an Iron Maiden cassette, a bag of dice that almost brings him to genuine tears.

Eventually, he gets another note. This one is typed and reads: "I would love to have coffee with you 11am this Saturday at the Cafe on Main Street."

---

He walks into the cafe at 10:50am, wearing his favorite pair of ripped black jeans and a burgundy button-down, his hair pulled into a loose bun. He doesn't recognize anyone there.

Eddie gets in line, studies the menu, and the little bell above the door rings. He whips towards the sound to find none other than Steve Harrington in little wire rim glasses, a butter colored sweater, and jeans the man must have painted on, Jesus Christ. Honestly, the whole thing is enough to give Eddie a coronary (and to, embarrassingly, chub up in his own tight jeans).

"Steve?" He asks. He's overwhelmed with the (stupid, stupid) hope that it's been Harrington all along. "What are you doing here?"

"Henderson asked me to meet him. He around?"

"Uh, no?" Eddie feels heat creeping up his throat.

Steve shakes his head, as though he expected as much. "You alone? We could grab drink."

"I can't believe this." Eddie hides his face in his hands, knows it's gone horrifyingly crimson.

"What's wrong?"

"My secret admirer told me to be here now, so we could meet," Eddie's misery slices through his words. "I'm such an idiot."

"I--your--what?" Steve stammers.

He gathers himself enough to look Steve in his hazel eyes and ask, "I'm assuming it wasn't you leaving notes and gifts for me at work?"

And he expects Steve to say no. To laugh and ask why he'd ever do something like that, but instead, instead he flushes a deep red. "O-only one note."

"What?"

"I, uh," Steve clears his throat. "I left you a note. On Valentine's Day. I--we weren't friends yet, and I wanted you to know how much I liked you. It's --uh--it's pretty silly, huh? Robin's--"

"Steve," Eddie interrupts. He's going to tell Steve that he reads the note often enough that he has parts memorized; that it's the kindest thing anyone has done for him, but what he says instead is, "Dustin Henderson told you to meet him here at 11?"

"Yeah. Said he had something to show me."

Eddie remembers running into Will and Dustin and their friends that day in the hall, the weird conversation in class, the dice and the miniature. Something must click for Steve at the same time because his mouth drops, blush getting somehow deeper.

"Oh my god. Henderson! I'm gonna kill him. They figured out I had a crush on you."

"They WHAT?" Eddie says, loud enough that several looks are aimed their way.

"I'm so, so sorry, Eddie. Holy shit, this is so humiliating. You have to believe me, I had no idea they were doing this. God, I'm really starting to think it is possible to die from embarrassment."

"You have a crush on me," Eddie says instead of any of the dozens of helpful things he could say.

"Um. Yes?"

Eddie takes a deep breath, straightens his spine, and asks, "You wanna have coffee with me?"

"I'd really like that." Steve's return smile is so beautiful, it makes Eddie weak.

---

Eddie Munson is making out with Steve Harrington in the backseat of Steve's BMW. He and Steve spent the day together. They've kissed for so long that the sun has set, both of their lips are swollen, their skin red from stubble, and Eddie is nowhere near ready for the night to end.

Steve breaks away, gently pulling their mouths apart, but arms still tight around Eddie. "Hey, what kind of gifts were they giving you anyway? The kids?"

"Oh," Eddie blushes. "Uh, cookies, a dnd mini, lots of candy, a set of dice."

"Oh my god," Steve says, he pulls a little more away. "Oh my god, I'm going to kill her, Jesus Christ."

"Who are are you killing, sweetheart?"

Steve groans. "Robin. She was helping them. We found a set of dice at this little bookstore and she told me to get them for you, and--" he breaks off with a helpless, frustrated noise.

Eddie doesn't mean to, but he starts to giggle.

"It's not funny!" Steve says.

That only makes Eddie laugh harder. "Your best friend," he squeaks. "And a group of literal children set us up. That's hilarious, Harrington."

Steve's mouth drops and for a second Eddie thinks he'll be upset, but then he's giggling too, his whole face crumpling into it.

Steve pulls Eddie close once the laughter subsides, his eyes trained on Eddie's lips.

"We could pretend we didn't get together," Eddie manages to say.

"What, like, make them think they failed?"

"Yeah. We could tell them I got stood up, but you and I hung out. Had a bro day."

Steve giggles again, and it's the best sound Eddie's ever heard. "I'm absolutely on board with this plan, but you should definitely kiss me some more."

"Oh, yeah?" Eddie asks, his voice low. "And what'll I get out of it?"

"Why don't you get over here and see."

As if Eddie could turn down an invite that enticing. He slides a hand behind Steve's head, drawing him in, and they're kissing like they never stopped. It only been a few hours, but Eddie knows--without a doubt--he's already head over heels.

[pawfulofwaffles]

Nhnhnhn holidays

It’s very snowy, Eddie better be careful delivering mail…

(In the first picture, since it’s hard to read, Frank is saying “Happy Hanukkah” and Howdy is saying “Merry Christmas” and their exclamations are colliding, so they just go with “Happy Holidays” instead)

[strangegutz]

Who are your oc voiceclaims???? i am YEARNING to know how they might sound 🙏🙏🙏🙏

I'm so glad you asked muahahaha

Eddie

White (complete with the slightly poor quality)

Felix's is Daniel Radcliffe

I don't have a good one for Zeki yet, but think airy, monotone, and snake-like with an English accent

[jrueships]

A HEAARRRRT IS A HOUSE FOR LOOVE AND IVE LEARRNNED THAT IT DONT TAKE MUCH TO BREAK A HEAARTT

sorry I just had to get that out lol I love that damn movie. That film, the temptations film (Paul and Cornbread my loves) and the little richard biopic will always have Leon as one of my fav actors idc idcccc also it took me way too long to find out the five heartbeats weren't a real group 🤣

IS A HOUSE ! FOR LOVE !

And I've LEARNED ( ive leaarnnned!!) 🗣‼️‼️

NO NO, DONT SAY SRRY FOR HAVING GOOD TASTE. NEVER BE SRRY FOR HAVING GOOD TASTE !!!!

ALL ur takes are MWAH. Just MWAH.

PAUL AND CORNBREAD LOL!! THE LOVES!. OUR BEAUTIFUL LOVES!!!. UGH. UGH. IM SO OBSESSED WITH THESE MOVIES. BOTH!! OF THESE GROUPS ARE REAL AS LONG AS U BELIEVE!!!

& i know dresser ran to that limo once he heard Eddie begging for his job back (our poor softie gentleman baritone baby..) but i think somebody should be jt's moral compass bcs duck is just 😭 sick of him

Leon deserved SO MANY MORE major movie roles just by being beautiful and bitchy like . His 50 cent movie cameo was so fucking funny.. TY FOR SAYING THIS. GENUINELY. I AM SO GLAD SOMEONE ELSE LOVES THESE MOVIES TOO. The characters are hilarious and tragic and I am. Infatuated with them all. They all have their lil moments to solidify them as real or to reflect them being real and it's just. Mwah.

Eddie almost at rock bttm begging for his job back bcs he loves music. He Loves. Music. But he has trauma so much trauma but he's Trying. He's trying so hard and then he opens his coat to reveal he still has their old performance uniform but makes a funny noise:

JT:

[doeneb]

May j have your permission to put my oc(Miss Roslyn/Mary Roslyn) in the UniversityOfHome Au?

Of course! I don't have a lot of rules for it and you can be practically anything in the au!

Only rules so far:

• If you are a teacher please put a lanyard/ID on the character and have the school's "UH" logo somewhere on the outfit!

That's about it do far lol

But yeah go wild ❤️

(Remember to read the tags! I ramble in there so posts aren't too long and put information in there!)

[sky-neverending]

AU where Steve adopted an 8 year old Dustin at 18 bc his mom died and no one else could take him so he fought the state until he was given full rights to be Dustin’s caretaker and now 5 years later Dustin is going into 8th grade and Steve is a guidance counselor at the middle school bc he wants to help the kids and he meets the new English teacher and *gasp* it’s Eddie Munson, whom he vaguely remembers from high school. and *double gasp* he’s hot as shit and incredible with the kids and Dustin is obsessed with him so Steve sees him more and more and slowly falls in love with him. And then Dustin realizes what’s happening and invites his teacher over for dinner like it’s normal, except Eddie accepts because he is also madly in love with Steve and then Dustin locks them on the front porch until they kiss. and now Dustin’s adoptive father and his english teacher are dating.

i’ve sort of already written the beginning of this if you couldn’t tell…..

[ghost-proofbaby]

congrats on 1k!!! 💙💙🌻🌻 I would like to request Eddie and my favorite song of the moment which is 'House Song' by Searows. it's kinda sad but cozy, so feel free to go easy on my heart and not write it angsty. or do. 😭🥰

thank you bluey <3 oh my word, this is my first time hearing this song and it is so terribly cozy and yet so sad in such a familiar way. i chose to focus on the lyric "something inside of me is rotten, i have to find it and cut it out", and also was inspired by the line from Euripides in which Orestes says "it's rotten work." and Pylades replies "not to me. not if it's you."

also, totally unrelated, but if i could lock this piece away in my soul until my days end, i would. i got way too carried away and made a fool of myself i fear.

warnings: none except bad writing and me taking a metaphor too far as i tried too hard though be warned this one is in third person rather than second to switch it up!!!

1k celebration - come party with me!

��──────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────────

People do not make good homes.

It is a hard lesson Eddie has had to learn in his twenty three years of life. 

Wide, innocent eyes are not open windows with billowing curtains. Caressing limbs are not bed sheets to wrap you up on wintry mornings. Pursed lips are not crackling speakers bleeding out familiar tunes as a record turns against a needle. Soft kisses aren’t the scent of clean laundry, tired yawns aren’t creaks from the attic, and ribs are not enough to build up the four walls to make a home. 

It happens every time; Eddie lets someone in, he opens himself up and lets the vulnerability drip from him in waves, until the fatal day comes in which suddenly the front door is closed on him, never to open again. The locks have been changed, the windows have been slammed shut, the sheets have been tucked under mattresses to grow cold. All the familiar, comforting old vinyls lay to rest and gather dust in a crate in the corner of abandoned rooms. 

People do not make good homes. He has come to accept this. Until she came along. 

Maybe her soft eyes weren't open windows to let in a summer’s breeze, but he swore he could still see the sun pouring in through their freshly painted panes. Maybe her steady arms weren’t clean sheets from the dryer, but they still blanket him in warmth all the same when they’d wrap their way around his waist. Whenever she’d open her mouth and give him a glimpse into her mind, it didn’t sound like his uncle’s old albums. It was something new, an unfamiliar melody he could neither tune out nor hum along to. She was a labyrinth of possibilities, a new shiny two-story house with the picket white fence. Bare feet against wooden floors that didn’t creak with protest, shimmering light fixtures that didn’t flicker with uncertainty, a front door swung wide open as if to say, come in. Make yourself at home. 

And when he made no move to come inside, when he stayed planted in the pristine front yard clear of weeds and verdant with hope, she had simply left the porch light on for him. She shut the door, but she never turned the lock. A reassurance that her offer still stood, in soft smiles and understanding nods, until he was ready. 

People should not make good homes. But then again, people like her existed. 

Eddie kept up the battle long enough. But eventually, the war inside his mind had raged long enough, and he walked up those front porch steps. He reached out for the unlocked door, and it was a breath of relief when it opened for him with a gentle click. She never locked him out. She had kept her promise of an offer. And when he finally arrived in the entryway, when he finally breached the threshold, she was waiting there, eager and gentle and beautiful, already reaching for his coat. She had been waiting. Always waiting, always patient. Just for him.

Her walls were fresh with paint, layering over any imperfections left behind by previous tenants. All scuff marks left by kitchen screaming matches had long been buffed out of mahogany boards. There are no ticks in door frames to account for the change of her height over the years, no frames of the ones before him she had let in. No signs of anyone having made her house a home before him. He couldn’t see her history in the way she could see his. Instead, he had to listen to it. Over cups of lukewarm coffee made just the way he likes it, over photo albums she describes that sit in a box in the attic, left to rot but never be forgotten. He learns of her past as she speaks of it as if it didn’t happen to her, as if it had been some movie she’d seen on late night television. And his heart aches. Because as she tells him all this, as she hands over a key to her heart and shows him how to unlatch her bay windows, he can see what her eyes beg of him. 

This has never been a home before. Please, make this house a home. Please.

But he’s terrified. His past is a conglomeration of abandoned cookie cutter homes, void of the warmth he feels beneath her surface. A doom town waiting for the atomic explosion. That’s what he is – the atomic explosion. He is the chaos and the destruction, the thing to burn down all that he holds sacred. It wasn’t hard to figure out; he had always been the common denominator in his own rotation of his own tenants. He’s terrified to add her home onto the end of the street, to lay in wait for the day he ruins all that they are. All that she is. 

But then she’s kissing him. She’s kissing him, and she’s holding him, and she’s reading her favorite books aloud to him in the afternoon lulls, and he can’t help but indulge. Because she’s home. She’s baked cookies and framed photos of better days. She’s hot chocolate and white Christmas mornings. She’s strong oak trees in the backyard and fresh cut flowers in the kitchen. 

People do not make good homes. But she is more than a metaphor.

The key to her hangs heavy on his keyring, but it is worth the weight on nights like tonight. Nights where he watches the rise and fall of her chest as her cheeks presses to his bare shoulder, her hand still curled around his even in her sleep. She loves him, she waits for him, she makes him feel more at home than anyone has in his twenty three years of life. Even after she had discovered the rot deep inside of him, she stayed and persisted as she digs it out and places down new baseboards, prepared to stand by his side as he makes the necessary renovations to himself that have been years in the making. She’s everything to him. She’s his home, his past be damned. 

People do not always make good homes. They are nothing more than houses, and just because the lights are on in the windows does not mean they are meant to be the place you lay your head to rest. They do not come prefilled with the love and warmth that is needed to be good homes. It is a process, aching and terrible and hard enough work that most people will not bother. But with her in his arms, Eddie thinks he is finally learning what it means to make a house a home. 

It was never about him making her house a home. It was about him finding home in himself, with her picture on his bedside table and her breath on his neck as she rests easy beside him. This lesson, as it turns out, wasn’t quite as hard to learn.

[normcore-tertiary-character]

Actual sobbing at Eddie being such a good, loving, attentive father to apologize and discuss things with his son

[stopthefeeling]

I did not sleep last night because I'm so excited to see A View From The Bridge today like I am not in the slightest bit a theatre nerd except for this one play. I've got two copies of it, I'm currently listening to my playlist that reminds me of it and I'm definitely going to reread the copy I'm bringing to get signed by the cast on the train into London despite last reading it a week and a half ago. Its just so messy and soapy and fucked up and scratches a very specific itch in my soul and I've been wanting to see it live for 10 years but I've never found a production I could get to from where I've lived so this is such a long time coming and I'm so so excited to finally see it performed.

[sugar-random6]

In English I did IT for my independent reading book, I just finished it today and now I have to write basically an essay on different scenes, make a timeline of important events, and I just finished re-doing the cover/name, and now I need to write a paragraph on it, I renamed it "The Derry Clown" I was thinking that or "The Derry Fright" but yea idk I'll update you guys if there's anymore drawing lol

Just figured out how to do hashtags omfg I'm so dumb I was manually typing then out before 🧍‍♂️

[inutaffy]

nope i see it already

[tallyhoot]

why am i failing math rn?? <- spends the whole class listening to music or talking to his gf

[loveinhawkins]

The sun is annoying Steve Harrington. Eddie knows this because the blinds in English class are notoriously shitty—have been ever since David C yanked the cord, so the sun always manages to get through the gaps.

Steve is squinting against it, the glare shining right in his eyes. Eddie can’t figure out why he doesn’t just move; he’s watched Steve battle with the blinds throughout the class, but it didn’t change much, no matter which way they were tilted.

Now Steve’s just stuck with a permanent frown, like he’s accepted his fate—or maybe he’s preparing for a grand finale, Eddie muses, not very seriously, like maybe the blinds should be writing their last will and testa—

“Dude, what’s your problem?”

It’s murmured so the substitute’s none the wiser. Still, the lack of volume doesn’t detract from the tone: Steve’s gone from annoyed to royally—ha ha, Eddie thinks stupidly—pissed off.

He considers replying with false pity, Oh, Harrington, I’ve got too many problems to count, but for some reason he can’t muster up enough energy for the performance. He manages a quip all the same, muted as it is—he’s got no desire to get detention again.

“Nothing. Just wondering if you’re gonna set fire to the blinds.”

Surprisingly, Steve laughs—or he laughs as much as someone can when they’re supposed to be silently reading. He gives a rueful look to the offending window, and it’s a damn shame really, that the sun’s making him squint, because otherwise his eyes would be all lit up and—woah, absolutely not, stop that train of thought right there.

“I’m this close, honestly,” Steve says, showing just how close he is with his thumb and forefinger.

And perhaps it’s simply the way he does it, the genuine flash of his grin, like he’s not worried about what he looks like; maybe the contrast makes Eddie realise that he’s been kinda serious for a while now, frowning even when the sun isn’t in his eyes.

What are you thinking about?

The question’s crossed Eddie’s mind more than once: chance sightings in the cafeteria, as the Nancy Wheeler love story came and went—but they still smile at each other, so it can’t be just that; his gut keeps telling him there’s something more, something he’s not…

But it’s none of his business, and he doesn’t know Steve like that, not nearly enough to ask.

So he tilts back in his seat, holds a book aloft like he’s trying for a Tony. In the newfound shade, Steve rolls his eyes with amusement, “You’re gonna fall.”

“You wish, Harrington,” Eddie says.

A few seconds more, and the teacher’s gonna notice, will snap at Eddie to read his book instead of waving it about.

But for now, all that matters is Steve’s smiling instead of frowning.

[steddieas-shegoes]

for @thefreakandthehair (and @vecnuthy and @wormdebut while we’re at it) because sometimes you help a baseball player through French class so they can stay on the team and then they end up on the Savannah bananas and you decide to put the fictional men into situations about it *shrugs*

Eddie was going to have to transfer out of this class. This was one of his easiest classes and it was filled with every jock on campus attempting to fill their foreign language requirement with French.

And they were all failing. And annoying. And obnoxious.

And a few of them were also hot.

But Eddie wasn’t gonna focus on that!

He was gonna finish today’s assignment and then head straight to the advising office to find another class that worked with his work schedule.

“Hey,” the guy next to him whispered as the teacher droned on about conjugating verbs. “Do you have any idea what the fuck the homework was?”

Eddie turned to glare at the person, but his face dropped when he noticed who it was.

The campus celebrity: Steve Harrington.

Couldn’t quite make it on the college baseball team, but managed to make the sort-of professional, but mostly joke team Hawkins Hooligans.

Eddie didn’t like sports, never had. He could appreciate that it took skill and whatnot, but he didn’t care much to watch it or make celebrities of people who were just really good at one very specific thing usually involving some kind of ball. But he could appreciate a joke. And this team had jokes.

Steve was actually apparently good enough to play pro, had even been scouted by the MLB his senior year of high school. One week before his professional tryout, he tore a muscle in his shoulder, had to sit for three months and had to do physical therapy for another three, and voila! No pro ball for him. No college either since he missed spring training.

But he still had skill, and he still had a father with a lot of pull in the business, even if it wasn’t quite enough to get him on the Yankees or whatever.

So he was biding his time on the Hooligans until next year when he could try out for the college team again, maybe increase his chances of a real pro career.

Eddie definitely hadn’t watched videos of him during their first few games of the season where they faced the Indy Idols and the Chicago Charades.

He definitely hadn’t gotten a weird flutter in his stomach when Steve had been the one to lip sync to Hot For Teacher while pretending his bat was a guitar.

He definitely didn’t have a crush on Steve.

“Uh. Dude?” Steve asked him again, shaking him out of his thoughts.

“Yeah. It was the study guide for the first quiz. Not due until next class though,” he whispered back.

“Oh. Thanks.”

Eddie turned his attention back to the professor, not really needing to pay attention since he already knew quite a bit of French.

A tap on his shoulder made him yelp, and the entire room turned to him. He waved apologetically before turning to Steve with a murderous look.

“What?” He hissed out.

“Do you understand this?”

“Yes and you probably would too if you stopped talking to me.”

Eddie was ignoring the voice in his head screaming at him to let Steve keep talking to him for as long as he wanted.

“I don’t think that’s it,” Steve huffed before sitting back in his seat and folding his arms across his chest. He mumbled something else that sounded like ‘I’m just stupid’ but Eddie couldn’t be 100% sure.

“A lot of this stuff is just English spelled a little differently.” Eddie sighed. “You could almost definitely figure it out if you took some notes.”

“Yeah, probably.”

Eddie’s brows scrunched together as he glanced at Steve’s red face.

Hm. There was definitely something to unpack here.

“You can borrow mine if you want,” Eddie offered as he watched the professor switch slides on the presentation. “I don’t really need them until the final.”

“Oh!” Steve sounded genuinely surprised by his offer, like he hadn’t been basically asking for help only a moment ago. “You don’t have to do that. I mean, it wouldn’t do much good for me anyway.”

“What do you mean?” Steve had Eddie’s full attention now.

“I’m. I-“ Steve sighed. “I’m dyslexic, man. Reading’s hard for me.”

Well, fuck. Eddie felt like an asshole now.

“Oh.” Eddie looked down at his scribbled notes, cringing at the thought of someone else trying to read them, let alone someone who already struggled with reading from a printed page. “Yeah, my handwriting is shit so it’d probably be useless to you. Shit, it’s almost useless to me.”

Steve snorted, immediately covering his mouth to avoid any more noise from escaping. Eddie could see he was still smiling though. His eyes were very expressive.

“Don’t you have accommodations?” Eddie asked him.

“Nah, my dad doesn’t believe it’s a problem.” Steve rolled his eyes. “Said I just need to focus more and it’ll ‘work itself out.’”

“He sounds like he’s a lot of fun at parties.”

Steve snorted again. “Yeah, a blast.”

“So you aren’t a natural at French?”

Steve shook his head. “I’m barely a natural at English.”

“I could help you?” Eddie was an idiot. An idiot with a crush on someone who would never be interested in anything he had to offer except tutoring.

“Help me? You’d help me?” Steve seemed eager, maybe a little desperate.

Eddie kinda liked that.

“I mean, yeah. If you’re actually willing to put in the work and not expect me to just do the work for you.”

Steve smiled. God, that was a nice smile. Eddie was absolutely fucked.

“I work well with a reward system,” he smirked. “If you’re willing.”

Eddie’s eyes widened momentarily as the realization sunk in that he’d just been flirted with.

By Steve Harrington.

“Oh, I can definitely work with that.”

Steve nodded once, grinned at Eddie as he picked up his pen and ripped off a small piece of his unused notebook paper. He scribbled something down and folded it once before handing it to Eddie.

“Let me know when I need to show up, Eds.”

Eddie unfolded the paper and nearly dropped it.

Stevie H. 555-555-0086 My dorm at 7? No clothes required

When Eddie looked back up, Steve was facing the front, seemingly paying attention to the lecture.

Eddie quickly pulled his phone from his pocket and put Steve’s contact info in. He could wait until after class to send him a text. He could.

Instead, he typed out something quick to hold them both over until later.

Studying naked is my favorite thing 😉

Steve’s knee nudged against his in response.

Maybe Eddie wouldn’t take that trip to advising after all.

And if he was featured on the next TikTok for the Hawkins Hooligans, with Steve fake serenading him in the stands, nobody had to know he didn’t really like sports.

He liked Steve, though. Even when Steve actually managed to play real competitive baseball. Even when Steve managed to get a spot on the Cubs.

Especially when Steve proposed to him during a game in maybe the worst recorded French of all time.

[hellfirenacht]

Anomaly Part 3

Summary: You can talk to anyone in school with no problem. At least, anyone who’s not named Eddie Munson.

Tags: Anxious-ish!Reader but not shy, one sided pining, no use of y/n, fem!reader, one sided enemies to lovers, fem!reader

2.4k Words

Part 1, Part 2, Master List

Miles Cooper was still at school the following week, which meant that he was given no consequences for what had happened to you or for blaming Eddie. 

Eddie couldn’t even say he was surprised by this point. If Eddie really had been the one to trip you up, he was sure he’d get suspended or even expelled. It was so close to the end of the year and he could feel that Higgins was looking for any reason to keep him from walking across that stage to get his diploma. 

You hadn’t shown up on Monday. Not that it mattered to Eddie either way, you two didn’t even know each other. But you had cleared his name. That was the thought that kept buzzing around his brain like a mosquito that he just couldn’t swat. Despite the glares and the snide remarks, you had gone out of your way to make sure that he didn’t get in trouble for something he didn’t do, which is more than what he could say for a lot of people at this school.

He had to give you credit for that at least. Not many people outside of his small friend circle would stick up for him like that. 

With work and band practice, it was easy to forget about you until Wednesday when you showed up to English class with a thick white cast around your wrist and arm. Shit, your fall really had done a number on you. You were struggling with juggling your books and they fell off your desk with a clatter, and you thanked the girl next to you for helping you pick them up. 

Eddie would like to think he was above eavesdropping and gossip, but he’d be wrong. 

“What happened?” The girl- Sarah- asked. 

“I face planted on the bleachers at the pep rally.” you said, taking your seat again. “One minute I was trying to get down, and the next I’m getting elbowed and my arm hurt.” 

“I heard someone pushed you” 

Eddie heard that emphasis on someone and gripped his pencil, hearing the subtle sound of wood splintering against his thumb. This was not the time to make a scene. 

“No one pushed me. Miles elbowed me and I fell.” you said firmly. 

You were still defending him, Eddie wasn’t sure how to feel. 

“If you’re gonna spread rumors, could you do me a favor and make it sound more interesting?” You continued, “Like, start telling people that I dived off the bleachers to distract everyone that Miles shit himself.”

Eddie snorted loudly before he could stop himself. He slammed his hand pencil down on the table and covered his mouth. Dammit, why did you have to be funny?

Sarah laughed, much less obnoxiously and agreed before asking to sign your cast. You must be covered in signatures now, as you seemed to be friends with everyone. 

Everyone except him. 

Not that it mattered. 

It was nice and all that you saved him from getting in trouble, but it’s not like you two were ever going to be friends, no matter how funny you were. 

Class started and Eddie spent the rest of class doodling and barely paying attention to the teacher. This was usually how his school days went. Yeah, he had been trying harder in the past two years to graduate and pass his classes but some days his brain just refused to focus on anything important. 

The bell rang and Eddie took his sweet time getting his things together. Next period was his favorite- lunch. 

“Shit.” He heard you mumble as you tried to wrangle your books with one arm. He knew there was a rule about not being allowed to carry around a backpack but, shit, Eddie would have thought you’d get some help. Shouldn’t one of those many signatures be offering to carry your books? 

Obviously not, as you finally managed to tuck your notebook under your arm. You looked flustered, and hot in the face. Your brows were furrowed in concentration and you finally let out a loud groan as your papers went flying everywhere as students for the next class started coming in. 

It was pathetic, and Eddie couldn’t exactly leave you stranded. You cleared his name, so at least he could try and help you out right now. Maybe he’d even figure out what your problem with him was. 

“Here.” Eddie said and grabbed the papers closest to him and picked up your binder before you could stop him. 

Normally when Eddie looked at you, you’d turn your nose up at him and look away. This time, he found himself giving you direct eye contact. Your eyes were wide with surprise that he had stepped in to help, followed by more frustration. 

“Thanks.” you said shortly. 

“Need help getting to the lunch room?” Eddie asked. He’d wait for you to say no, to tell him to get out of your face, and he can walk away with a clear conscience that at least he tried. 

You were staring at him as if he were some sort of alien who had just asked you why the sky wasn’t orange. Yeah ok, he could take the hint. 

“Yes.” 

The word sounded choked out, as if the single syllable was a struggle to say. But you had said it, and Eddie was a man of his word, even though he hadn’t promised you anything. 

Eddie stacked your notebook and binder on top of his. You were still staring at him as if you couldn’t believe he was talking to you. Eddie couldn’t really believe it himself. 

He’d do this small favor for you as a thanks, and then you two could go back to ignoring each other. 

“Lead the way.” He said, offering up his best impression of his dad’s smile. If he was lucky (which Eddie never was) then maybe some of his dad’s Munson Magic might rub off on him enough so that you’d at least relax a little. 

You only nodded and led him out of the classroom. 

You didn’t like the cast and it’s off-putting stark white bandages. You wanted to choose a different color- maybe red or black or even that weird obnoxious toxic green that was offered to you. But your mom decided that white would be better because it would make it easier to sign, so white it was. 

Your parents at least took pity on you Monday, letting you stay home to wallow in embarrassment that you had broken your wrist and fractured your arm in front of all of your classmates. Tuesday they released you back to school, but you had instead skipped getting on the bus (because you could not drive one-handed) and played hooky at the local library. It’s not like anyone would care that someone your age was skipping school. 

Wednesday came, and you forced yourself onto the bus, the first time you had used it since moving to Hawkins. The ride was bumpy and long, and your walkman ran out of batteries halfway to school. 

It wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be. A few people came up and signed your cast, some asking what happened. You just told them the same thing, that Miles elbowed you and you fell. It wasn’t as exciting as the idea of the school Freak attacking you, but you weren’t about to get Eddie involved in something that he had nothing to do with. You were just going to ignore the fact that Eddie had been the reason you were heading in that direction anyway. 

English class rolled around, and you spent most of it poking the inside of your cast with your pencil, trying to scratch an itch that just wouldn’t go away. It was bad enough that you had fucked up your dominant arm, but this was actually Hell. 

When the bell rang, everyone else seemed to be in a huge rush to get out of the classroom. Everyone but Eddie. Obviously. Because of course the one person you were trying to avoid was now slinking around you. 

Your long weekend, you had done your best to try and not think about him. You could handle falling in front of everyone else in school, but with Eddie it was different. Your stomach twisted as you remembered how he had yelled as you fell next to him and how he had looked at you as you had ignored your stinging arm as you ran out of the gym to clear his name. 

It was bad enough he had heard you make a poor joke out of context, you weren’t going to throw him under the bus either. 

“Need help getting to the lunch room?”

Your face was already hot with the embarrassment of not being able to carry your own books. Your backpack had ripped the second you got off the bus, and you lost your math homework to a puddle. You hated that he was still here to begin with, was breaking your wrist already not enough pain and suffering? 

You were staring at him. Fuck- dammit- shit say something back-

“Yes.” 

The word almost got stuck in your throat. The only reason it came out was that as painful and embarrassing as this moment was, what Stacy would do to you if she found out you said no would be far worse. 

Eddie dropped your books on top of his, and gave you a smile that looked so forced that you couldn’t stand to look at him. Was this being done just out of pity? You’d run for the hills if he wasn’t holding you binder hostage. 

You led him through the hallway, and towards your locker. “I need to put some things up.” you said, and he followed you. 

The hallway was already mostly clear, and so no one seemed to pay you much mind. You weren’t sure what the rumor mill would churn out with Eddie carrying your books, but did it even matter? Two more months and you’d be out of this school and none of these people would matter. 

No one except the young man following behind you. 

Eddie dutifully held your books as you put them away. The door to your locker stopped you from seeing his face, which seemed like the perfect time to take the foot out of your mouth that had been there since the pep rally. 

“...I’m... uh... I’m sorry for what I said on Friday.” you started, pretending to rifle through a folder. “About you being in a cult. It was a stupid joke and I shouldn’t have said it.”

Eddie was quiet for a moment, and you felt your whole body tense up as you waited for him to say anything. 

“Yeah we uh.. We aren’t big on sacrificing in Hellfire.” he said carefully. “Had to stop that with the club budget cuts.” 

You had to bite the inside of your cheek and close your eyes tight to keep from laughing. You covered it up with a cough. “Yeah uh... sounds like that’d be a lot of paperwork.” 

You took a slow and deep breath before closing your locker to look at him. He was smiling at you, a far less forced one than before. It was almost the same smile he gave his friends when he didn’t know you were looking. 

It wasn’t much, but it didn’t stop the butterflies from exploding in your chest. You should see a doctor about that. 

“Oh yeah, tons.” Eddie said. “And with all the letters we get about our club being associated with the Devil it was just a bureaucratic headache.”

I know that if I could just talk to him one then I’d be fine. You had told yourself that every single day since these pesky little feelings emerged. Maybe you had been right. The two of you made your way to the cafeteria. 

“You’re just some nerds playing with dice.” you said, and realize that could be taken the wrong way. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that. I’ve also... played board games.” 

God you were acting like a total airhead. Board games? Really? You were acting like your brain was broken rather than your wrist. 

You felt Eddie’s eyes on you, and saw how he also looked unsure about your answer. Whatever was going through his head, he brushed aside. 

“I should also thank you for clearing my name.” he said, changing the subject. “You came running out of the gym and saved my ass.” 

“I wasn’t going to let someone get in trouble just because I fell!” It was the most assured thing you had ever said to Eddie.

“Well, either way I’d say you’re my hero.” Eddie said. “I’m pretty sure if you hadn’t come running to my rescue I’d probably be expelled by now, and then who would be around to corrupt the youth of Hawkins?” 

Hero. Eddie called you his hero. You felt your body buzzing with an energy that you were not in a place to use. 

You two were in the cafeteria now, and you led Eddie over to where Stacy was sitting. Stacy, being the queen of subtlety that she was, was openly gawking at the sight of the two of you together. 

She was giving you a look, and that look said that the second that Eddie was out of earshot you would be giving her a play by play of every single second of this interaction. 

Eddie dropped your books on the table by Stacy.

“Hi, Eddie!” she said in a perky voice. You wanted to kick her, and shot her a warning look which she ignored. “Will you be dining with us today?” 

You wanted to rip your hair out. 

“As much as I would love to spend my lunch period with you two ladies, I’m afraid my freshmen wouldn’t survive out there in the wild without me.” Eddie gave a dramatic bow. 

“Thank you. For helping me.” you said stiffly. Being on the receiving end of Eddie’s theatrics was making your brain blow a fuse. 

Eddie gave you a nod and sauntered off to his usual table where he was immediately hounded by his friends for being seen with you. You wondered what they were thinking. Did you look weird next to Eddie? Were they judging you for not being part of their group?

“Stop drooling.” Stacy said. “Talk.”

I have never broken a bone and have done minimal googling.

Also these chapters are getting longer dammit. This is supposed to be the easy stuff to wright UGH. Also tell me if there's something you wanna see with this, because I'm winging it like I do with all my writing lol

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