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firefly-party · 3 days
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send this to the twelve nicest people you know or who seem to have a good heart and if you get five back you must be pretty awesome ❣️🥰
That's so damn sweet 🥺 thank you so much!
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firefly-party · 17 days
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Hi do you RP?
Dear anon,
sorry to disappoint but I can barely write my own name. 👍
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firefly-party · 19 days
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It's time for another giveaway!!!
as usual, here're the specifics:
RULES TO ENTER: - followers only! no minors!! - like the giveaway post - reblog for a bonus entry!
END OF GIVEAWAY: - April 5th 2024 (winners will be informed on the 6th! make sure i can dm you!) - 5 randomly chosen winners
- winners can pick whatever they want (one of each max.)
PLEASE BE AWARE: for sending the prints/cards to you, make sure that it's ok to share your address with me!
prints specifics: - 21,0 cm x 29,7 cm (DIN A4) or - 8.2 x 11.6 inch
postcards: - 12,1 cm x 12,1 cm // 4.7 x 4.7 inch (the square ones) - 14,8 cm x 10,5 cm // 5.8 x 4.1 inch (the rectangular ones)
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firefly-party · 28 days
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| kei | 30s | she/her | introverted mess | self-taught hobby artist |
I draw fanart for my current hyperfixation (⁎❛ᴗ❛⁎)
→ my Steddie/StrangerThings art tag ←
| Instagram | AO3 | Bluesky |
Do not follow if you're a minor! 🔞
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older fanarts → the Witcher | Assassin's Creed | Star Trek |
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I do not offer commissions
I do not have a shop
If you'd like to have a print, pls look out for my giveaways!!! I'm trying to do those regularly 💞
my Asks and DMs are always open! Feel free to hmu! ❤
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drawing tablet: Huion Kamvas Pro 24
Software: ClipStudioPaint2.0
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firefly-party · 1 month
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held.
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firefly-party · 1 month
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FUCK 👏 YES 👏
Eddie gets to practice early and finds Steve sitting at the drum set instead of Gareth, drumming a familiar beat, Gareth using his good hand to clap a steady beat on his thigh to help Steve keep the rhythm.
Eddie's brain short circuits a little bit, seeing Steve sitting behind the drum kit, his arms flexing as he plays. It’s that oh moment that he always finds himself in, somehow still so surprised at how into Steve he is whenever something like this happens.
Gareth broke his arm skateboarding with Max and he said he knew someone who would be able to replace him during practice and shows while he heals up, but he didn't tell him it would be Steve fucking Harrington.
He can't believe Gareth wouldn't tell him this. That feels targeted.
He watches as Steve absolutely nails the ending of one of their songs and wonders what he did in a past life that would warrant this kind of torture—Steve is sweaty, his mouth open as he pants a little from the exertion.
Eddie’s not going to survive this.
“Hey, Eddie,” Steve calls over when he spots him still lingering by the garage door, oblivious to the turmoil going on inside Eddie right now.
“Hey,” he says weakly, a beat too late, his mouth incredibly dry.
read the rest of if devotion is a river, then i’m floating away here steddie | 6.4k | explicit
for @thefreakandthehair and @sidekick-hero, in anticipation of their drummer steve fic!
inspired by @firefly-party's drummer steve art
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firefly-party · 1 month
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art by: @firefly-party // @steddielovemonth day 16: Love is staying in bed for five extra minutes because you can’t tear yourself away from them just yet. @sidekick-hero and I are working on a much, much larger steddie project with our friend @firefly-party, Pickup Note. this is a little sneak peek into that universe! we decided to write different scenes based on kei's art in this universe for today's steddie love month prompt: check hers out here!
Eddie wakes up too early— maybe to the sun rising through the slats in the blinds, to the chill in the room, to the dip of the mattress under his hip— but mostly, he wakes up to silence. 
It’s quiet. 
He’s not used to quiet, at least not this particular flavor of it that feels like comfort, peace, and solace all wrapped in one. Usually, the quiet he finds himself in is man-made and forced — a reaction to too much noise, too much chaos— but waking up the morning after their show to find Steve still sleeping, naked and snoring lightly into Eddie’s chest, is anything but artificial. 
Warm light pours in through the slats of the hotel blinds and normally, Eddie would be annoyed that he’d forgotten to close them and woken up so early but if he’d slept in, he’d miss this view. Steve, curled under his arm, cheek pressed against the skin of his chest as he breathes slow, even, breaths punctuated with the occasional sniffle. One arm drapes protectively across Eddie’s torso, fingers grazing the bedsheets. His hair is a mess, there’s a purpling bruise on his collarbone in the shape of Eddie’s mouth, and one of his legs is heavy over top of Eddie’s. 
Sure, his left leg might be going numb— and his left arm that’s cradled beneath Steve’s head along with it— but it’s worth it. 
read the rest of and I'm on that faded love (1.2k) here on ao3!
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firefly-party · 1 month
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(steddie | teen | 1.2k | tags: rockstar!eddie, drummer!steve, secret relationship, part of @thefreakandthehair and @firefly-party and mine project pickup note | @steddielovemonth prompt love is staying in bed for five extra minutes because you can't tear yourself away from them just yet by @starryeyedjanai | art by Kei | story in the same verse by Lex | AO3)
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Steve came to slowly, like swimming through molasses, his mind caught somewhere between dreaming and being awake. In his dream, he had been lying in the sun, his head cushioned in Eddie's lap, Eddie's fingers running through his hair, humming a soft melody Steve had never heard before.
Slowly, the melody changes to the sound of soft snoring, and the soft thing under his head isn't Eddie's lap, it's his chest, gently rising and falling with each snore. Steve presses his smile into the warm skin beneath him at the thought of Eddie's face when he tells him he snores.
Some things are worth waiting for, though, and he knows the perfect moment to reveal this particular piece of information will come.
He has no idea what time it is. Judging by the morning light filtering into the room, it's just after sunrise, the sun's rays piercing through the blinds and casting a warm, golden glow that gradually fills Steve's hotel room.
Moving as carefully as he can, he cranes his neck to check the aged alarm clock on the bedside table. It tells him that he was right, it's 7:58 a.m., and the sun has risen just minutes before him. The light filtering in is soft and diffused, making the colors seem muted yet rich, with shades of pale orange, pink, and yellow dancing across the surfaces. Long shadows stretch out elegantly, accentuating the contours of furniture and objects in the room.
It's Steve's favorite time of day. There's a sense of quiet serenity in this early morning moment as the world slowly awakens. It offers a brief respite before the hustle and bustle of the day begins.
These days, early mornings hold an even more special place in his heart because it's the only time of day he can just look at Eddie.
Sometimes Steve thinks Eddie is like a hummingbird, always moving until all his energy is used up and he falls into a deep slumber that almost looks like he's dead to the world. It allows Steve to soak him up undisturbed and unabashed. His fingers carefully exploring the hills and valleys of hard muscle and soft flesh, he can drink in the swirling ink on Eddie's pale skin.
It's such a stark contrast from the rest of the day.
Eddie often seems driven. By the perceived expectations of others, by his own fears of falling short. By his own demons, which Steve has only glimpsed. But as the darkness of the night gives way to a new day, Eddie looks at ease.
It's probably too soon to think, but Steve hopes it's because he's now sharing Eddie's bed. That Eddie feels safe with him, safe enough to let go of all the things that plague his beautiful but sometimes overwhelmingly loud mind.
That's why it pains Steve to be the one to wake Eddie from his peaceful slumber and bring him back to reality. But they have a sound check at 9:15 because the venue has had some problems lately and they need to make sure everything goes off without a hitch tonight. This whole tour means too much to them, to Eddie, for it not to be perfect.
Pressing a gentle kiss just above where Steve can feel the steady beating of Eddie's heart, he softly calls Eddie's name. Not surprisingly, nothing happens, so another kiss follows the first, this time on Eddie's collarbone.
"Eddie, c'mon," he tries again, this time closer to Eddie's ear, eliciting a soft murmur. "We have to get up, the soundcheck -"
"Mm, they can check the sound without us," his - Eddie's - voice comes in a slightly drawn out tone. "Don't wanna get up."
Eddie, obviously not fully awake yet, wraps his arms around Steve and buries his face in Steve's hair.
"I know, ba-" Steve stumbles over the pet names that want to come out more and more now that they're so much closer than when he first started touring with Corroded Coffin. "I know. But we can grab a big coffee with enough sugar in it to put an elephant into a sugar coma, and when the check is done, we can come back to the hotel and sneak into your room and I can make it worth your while."
Steve's tone is low, almost a purr, as he says this. The others don't know about them yet, although Steve thinks that at least Robin and Chrissy have their suspicions. And Jeff has been watching them more closely as well. He's sure that they'll tell them soon, but first they want to enjoy getting to know each other this way, without their friends getting involved.
"Five more minutes and I will make it worth your while. Whaddya say, big boy?"
Before Steve can answer, most likely telling Eddie no, we're going to be late and how are you going to explain that to the others, Eddie rolls them both over until Steve lands on his back with a soft umph. Above him, Eddie is smiling down at him, suddenly much more awake than seconds before.
"Hi," he says, nudging Steve's nose with his own.
Steve doesn't even try to fight the dopey smile, even as he rolls his eyes at Eddie trying to get what he wants by playing dirty. It's so Eddie, just like the wolfish grin on his face.
"I'll make this the best five minutes of your life, Harrington. Scout's honor."
Steve snorts. "Scout's honor? I doubt you ever talked to a scout in your life."
"Oh yeah. In fact, I'm sleeping with one. And I'm about to kiss one before I rock his world."
"See, that's where you're wrong."
"Is that so?"
This makes Steve laugh out loud. "You're ridiculous."
"And you love it," Eddie replies, then hesitates as his choice of words seems to register with him.
Before the moment between them ends in awkwardness, Steve leans in to kiss Eddie on the nose. "How did you know I was a Boy Scout?"
Steve's distraction works, and the worry in Eddie's eyes is replaced by mischief. "Just a guess, but good to know."
"Ass."
"I have it on good authority that you like my ass," Eddie teases, and Steve has to agree. He really does. As much as he likes everything else about Eddie. How much is becoming a problem.
Instead of saying any of these things, Steve looks over at the alarm clock, which now reads 08:04. He clicks his tongue in mock disappointment. "I think your five minutes are up, and I have to say, not the world-rocking I was expecting, Munson."
"Oh you..." Eddie growls before swooping in to capture Steve's lips in a deep kiss. It turns into another, and another, the dim light in the room growing brighter around them as they become lost in each other.
Eddie makes it to sound check just in time, while Steve is ten minutes late, carrying five cups of coffee. He hopes no one notices the bright grin Eddie flashes with the first sip of his overtly sweet coffee, or the wink he gives Steve.
A promise is a promise, and Steve intends to keep them all when it comes to Eddie.
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firefly-party · 1 month
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for the @steddielovemonth prompt, day 16: Love is staying in bed for five extra minutes because you can’t tear yourself away from them just yet
Pls go and read @thefreakandthehair 's and @sidekick-hero 's accompanying fics!! Here's Steve's and here's Eddie's POV! ❤️
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firefly-party · 3 months
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steddie | rating: t | wc: 2.345 | tags: au, rockstar!eddie, drummer!steve, onesided enemies to lovers (although that part is not happening here folks), part of our upcoming fic Pickup Note | art credit: @firefly-party
Eddie's living his dream, literally. Ever since his mom danced him around the living room to the sounds of Muddy Waters and Jimmy Hendrix, he has wanted to be a rock star. 20 years later, he made it.
So why is there such a sour taste in his mouth when they stand in front of their cheering audience, bowing and clapping with them? Why does the sight of Harrington throwing his drumsticks into the crowd turn his smile into a frown before he can stop himself?
He knows he's being childish. But knowing something has never helped him much in suppressing those irrational feelings that bubble up inside of him until they spill over and make a mess. Eddie's alignment has always been chaotic, so at least he's trying to make it a chaotic good one.
Lately, though, it feels like he's failed at that, and it's all Harrington's fault.
The guy just had to waltz in and take Gareth's place, with the other guys falling all over themselves with praise and gratitude when Harrington should be grateful. After all, he gets to go on a world tour with the most talked about newcomer metal band right now, when the biggest venues he played before were the local bars and sports halls.
But no, Steve Harrington didn't even have to audition, not really. Not when Gareth's boyfriend had vouched for him being a great drummer and an even greater guy, and Gareth, being the love-struck idiot that he was, had just said "Yes, my love, of course, anything you say" or some equally lovey-dovey shit like that. And now Eddie had to endure the guy's company for three whole months.
"Are you alright, man?" Jeff's hand on his shoulder is grounding and his deep voice pulls Eddie back from his gloomy spiral. He gives his oldest friend a smile that lacks the usual Munson charm, but is still genuine enough for Jeff to return it with one of his own.
"Yeah, 'm fine, just tired," he only half-lies. It's been a long day, hell, a long week. Add to that giving his all on stage, jumping up and down and singing his heart out while letting his sweetheart sing for him and thousands of fans, and he's bound to be exhausted as soon as the adrenaline starts to wear off.
Jeff and Grant don't seem to fare any better, coming down from the post-concert high almost as fast as Eddie and crashing as soon as they get to their tour bus. The only one who seems to be full of restless energy is Steve, who can't seem to stop moving, arms and hands and fingers acting like there's still a drum kit to be played. Eddie swears he can feel him vibrating with it and it sets his teeth on edge.
He's a hypocrite, and he knows it. Hell, the Eddie of a year ago would be out partying right now, dancing and drinking and fucking the night away, high on adrenaline and endorphins and maybe something else if the mood struck. But he left that Eddie at the Crossroads, along with his addiction and most of his anxiety disorder.
While Grant just grunts his good night before falling face first into his bunk bed, Jeff goes over to Harrington to check in on him as well. Eddie remembers the one time Jeff tried to play a DnD character that was anything but good. It was painful to watch and Eddie was almost glad when his Demogorgon killed Jeff's character and the rest of the party and they were able to start a new campaign.
If there's anyone on earth who's intrinsically good, it's Jeff Robinson.
Jeff walks over to Steve and pats him on the back. "Great job, man. You were on fire up there. Can't believe you learned that whole setlist in two weeks."
Steve glows from the praise, a bright smile lighting up his whole face before he ducks his head in what looks like genuine bashfulness. Eddie snorts at the thought and Steve's eyes flick over to him, his smile fading.
Harrington looks hurt and Eddie really wonders why. Why should he care what Eddie thinks of him? It's not like they're friends or anything. The way Jeff is glaring at him, Eddie guesses he still needs to apologize to the guy, but just as he opens his mouth to formulate some half-hearted apology at best, Steve turns away from him and squeezes Jeff's arm.
"Thanks, man, I appreciate it. I think I'll head to bed, if you don't mind. Get some sleep."
"Yeah, of course. It's been a long day, get some shut-eye. But you really did a great job, man. I'm glad we found such a kickass stand-in for Gareth on such short notice. You saved our asses."
Eddie bites his tongue so hard he thinks he tastes blood.
It's actually Steve who says what Eddie is thinking. "Are you kidding me, man? I'm the one who's glad you let me come and play with you. I mean, today? Being in front of thousands of people, doing what I love? I've never felt so... fuck, I don't even know. Myself? Happy? Alive?" He laughs, but it sounds tentative, and Eddie can see his cheeks glowing red even in the dim night light of their bus. Steve rubs a hand across his neck in obvious embarrassment. "Sorry, I'm rambling."
Jeff laughs, amused. "Don't worry, it's the concert jitters. Eddie wouldn't stop talking for hours the first time we played in front of more than maybe five drunks back home."
"Har-har," Eddie laughs sarcastically, but there's still a smile on his face that takes the sting out of it. Those were good times, before things got complicated. Before fame and money and being on the road all the time had made them complicated. "I'm gonna hit the hay. Night, Jeff. Harrington."
They return his goodnight wishes with one of their own and Eddie is glad that he already changed into his sweatpants and hoodie backstage. He slips under the covers and turns on his side, facing the wall, listening to Grant's snoring and the sounds of Steve and Jeff getting ready. Eddie knows that sleep won't come anytime soon. He's been an insomniac for as long as he can remember, sleep as absent from most of his life as his father. He has learned to make do with the bare minimum, catching a few hours here and there whenever he can.
Tonight it's Steve Harrington that keeps him awake. Or rather, it is his thoughts and feelings about the man. It's not the first night this happens, but it's the first time he really wonders if maybe he is the asshole after all. Steve's words run through his mind on a loop and every time he closes his eyes he sees the way his smile died on his face, replaced by that kicked puppy dog look that tugs at Eddie's heart no matter how hard he fights it.
Maybe he should at least try to be nicer to the guy.
Sure, he is everything Eddie hated in school: a preppy ex-jock who got everything he ever wanted with his pretty face and his daddy's money. No one ever called him a fuck-up, Eddie is sure of that. While Eddie had to fight for every single thing, even his life, Steve Harrington just got a place in the band and the hearts of their fans and the respect of his bandmates with a few flutters of his long eyelashes. It's true, he's good, Eddie begrudgingly admits. He has found himself staring at Harrington more than once tonight while the man has been playing, mesmerized by the passionate yet easy way he has mastered every single song on their setlist.
Eddie's so lost in his own thoughts that he misses the bus pulling up, only jolted out of his reverie when he hears someone get out of his bed and walk to the front door of the bus.
It's Harrington, talking to the driver. Eddie checks the clock on his phone and is surprised to see that it's already four in the morning. When did that happen? Maybe he fell asleep without realizing it.
Up front, the driver explains that they're stopping here for a few hours. There was an accident further up the highway and the traffic jam is so bad that the driver decided to take his break here. Steve asks if it's okay if he goes outside for a while and Eddie catches himself smiling at the question.
He wonders if Harrington can't sleep, just like he can't. Maybe he's still thinking about Eddie's reaction earlier...no, that would be ridiculous, right? Still, the thought sits heavy in his stomach and after another five minutes he gives up and rolls out of bed to follow Harrington outside. On the way he grabs two hoodies and pulls one over himself.
The cold night air hits him hard as he stumbles down the stairs, but it feels good after a second or two of adjustment.
"Can't sleep?" A voice to his right asks, and sure enough, it's Harrington, leaning against the side of the bus, his arms wrapped tightly around himself.
"I was going to ask you the same question." Eddie replies, walking over to Steve. "Here." Steve stares wordlessly at the offered hoodie, making no move to take it. "It won't bite, I promise. I doubt you can play with your hands frozen."
That does the trick and he finally reaches out to take the black garment from Eddie and pulls it over his head. It's a little long on the arms, but otherwise it fits well, maybe a little tight around the shoulders. Of course, the guy has broader shoulders than he does, Eddie thinks, not really able to muster much annoyance.
"Thanks," Steve says in a quiet voice, giving him a strange look. And then, as quickly as if he were ripping off a bandage, "I just can't get to sleep. I tried everything, counted backwards from one hundred, counted sheep, did that weird breathing thing Robin showed me, tried reading... nothing. I'm so fucking exhausted, but I just can't sleep."
Eddie hums, knowing the feeling only too well. Harrington sounds on the verge of tears and maybe it's the lingering guilt, the memory of his own racing thoughts, all circling around the man in front of him. Whatever it is, something compels Eddie to say, "I don't have a solution for you. I don't sleep more than three, maybe four hours a night. But I can show you something that might make it more bearable, if you'd like."
Steve looks at him and for the first time Eddie allows himself to look back. To let their eyes meet and lock.
"I'd like that."
Clapping his hands, Eddie abruptly turns and stalks to the back of the bus. When he doesn't hear footsteps following him, he turns and calls out, "You comin' or what?" and grins as Steve almost trips in his haste to catch up.
When they reach the back of the bus, Eddie pushes on a panel that is somehow hidden under the license plate. A small metal shape protrudes from where he just pushed, and when he pulls on it, it turns out to be a metal ladder.
"What are you -"
"Patience, young Padawan," Eddie admonishes with a grin, secretly pleased with Steve's reaction. He's kind of proud of his little secret hideout.
Placing the ladder against the back of the bus, Eddie begins to climb up the stairs to the deck, and when he's at the top, he turns and reaches down for Steve to follow. "Do you trust me?"
Steve looks up at him, his eyes bright in the light of the stars and the moon shining down on them. "Yes."
"I can show you the world," Eddie begins to sing, once again letting his impulsive thoughts dictate his actions. The song came to him the second he looked down at Steve.
Steve comes up the stairs and grabs Eddie's hand, laughing. "Oh my God, are you singing a Disney song?"
"You're the one who recognizes it. I bet you even know what movie it's from, don't you, big boy?"
Steve rolls his eyes, but smiles anyway, as if he's secretly charmed by Eddie's antics. "Does that make me the princess?"
"And me the ruggedly handsome thief with a heart of gold," Eddie agrees, pleased that Steve got his reference.
Steve snorts, and it shouldn't sound cute, but oh, does it, his nose crinkling adorably. "Yeah, whatever. As long as this isn’t your flying carpet. I don't trust the structural integrity of this thing to actually fly."
"Big, big words. You sound like Henderson."
"Oh God, don't tell him, I'll never hear the end of it."
Eddie taps his chin thoughtfully. "I'll...think about it," he finally settles on, grinning playfully at Harrington. Silence falls over them, and for the first time since Steve walked into their rehearsal studio, it doesn't feel awkward or hostile. In fact, it's nice to share this space up here with someone.
Eddie sits down at the edge of the bus and Steve joins him, sitting maybe a foot away from him in a slight sprawl, his head tilted back and his mouth slightly open as his eyes take in the clear night sky above them. They're far enough out of town to actually see the harmonious arrangement and movement of the stars in the cosmos, forming a celestial symphony that Eddie has often tried and failed to capture in his songs.
Tonight, however, his eyes are caught by another ethereal sight.
"It's so beautiful," Steve whispers, as if sharing a secret with Eddie. "It's so vast and so beautiful, it’s almost frightening, don’t you think?"
"It is," Eddie agrees, never taking his eyes off Steve. So frightening.
They sit there until the sun slowly rises in the east, Steve's eyes on the sky and Eddie's on his own enigma.
This is a sneak peek from @firefly-party and me for our upcoming project Pickup Note to celebrate our dearest friend and collaborator's @thefreakandthehair birthday. Lex, you are our MVP and we are so happy to call you our friend! We love you and we hope you have the best day, week, month and year, because you deserve it 💜💜
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firefly-party · 3 months
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Probably the last picture this year since I can't show the other art yet bc it's for the drummer!Steve AU 😊 i wish i had more time to draw sth properly but everything is just so damn stressful rn 🥲
Lots of love to all the amazing friends i made this year!! Sandy, Lex, i can't wait to get fully started with our project!! Ali, my dearest BB partner, i'm looking forward to future collabs with you!!!!!!! Panda, my wifi, ilysm! And all you other beautiful souls, friends and moots, happy holidays and a better 2024! And thanks to everyone for all the support 💙
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firefly-party · 3 months
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Happy Birthday Sandy 🥰💖🎂
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steddie | rating: m | wc: 955 | tags: established relationship, use of cake as a metaphor, they're so in love your honor | art credit: @firefly-party
Eddie Munson celebrates two birthdays every year: the day he was actually born, December 19th, and the day he woke up in the hospital, April 8th. Funny enough, the latter is usually a bigger celebration. Family and friends that no longer exist in separate groups come together with all of Eddie’s foods and drinks, small gifts and sometimes, a bigger gift from the collective.
Try as they might, they’ve yet to top the Metallica tickets. 
But today is Eddie’s original birthday. December 19th— the one that’s usually swallowed up by the holidays, the one that really doesn’t mean all that much to him because, well, compared to waking up after saving the world, why would it? The last few celebrations have been tight-knit, mostly just himself, Wayne, and Steve either at Wayne’s trailer or the tiny little apartment Steve and Eddie managed to find for themselves. 
This year, it’s just the two of them with no one to blame but Mother Nature. A blizzard drops nearly three feet of snow over northeastern Indiana and no one is going anywhere, least of all Wayne whose getting up there in years. We'll make up for it later, Eddie assures him when he calls with a stream of apologies. 
How can he complain though? Wayne will make up for it, he’s snowed in with the love of his life, and the apartment smells like his favorite pasta sauce, the one he knows takes Steve hours to simmer. So no, he’s not disappointed. Not in the slightest. 
“Sorry your day got snowed out,” Steve sighs, plopping down onto the couch and draping an arm along the back of the couch, toying with the ends of Eddie’s hair. “I did get you a surprise though.” 
Eddie’s brow furrows, knitting tightly above his nose. There’s been no mail for two days, and their apartment doesn’t exactly lend itself to keeping secrets. “A surprise? What kinda surprise?”
“Well,” Steve smirks, confident in the way that always makes something stir in Eddie’s chest. “It’s not a birthday without a cake.” 
He’s so fucking lost. 
“A cake? We’ve been snowed in since Sunday and I would’ve smelled you baking in here. Also, I would’ve tasted it already, or at least demanded to lick the spoon so— wait, what are you doing?” 
Steve stands up and walks around the back of the couch, just behind Eddie. “Just close your eyes, okay? Or do I need to blindfold you?”
He can hear Steve’s smug grin without even seeing his face and now it’s not just his chest stirring. Eddie shifts I’m his seat. 
“No, no I can just close my eyes. Put a pin in the blindfold idea though.“ 
With his eyes closed, all he can do is imagine what the rustling is behind him, scenarios that will never compare to the sight he sees when Steve gives him the all clear. 
“Okay,” Steve says, his voice now coming from directly in front of Eddie. “Open.”
Very funny, brain, he thinks. My entire life since the demobats has to have been just one long, final burst of dopamine before kicking the bucket because there’s absolutely no way this is fucking real. 
Steve’s standing in front of him, shirtless, in nothing but some of the tightest shorts he’s seen Steve wear since the time he blindly walked into Scoops Ahoy asking for rum raisin and instead, got a fucking show. They’re dark maroon in hue with the word Cake printed in white script across the entirety of Steve’s ass. Moles litter his skin from the base of his neck down the flesh of his thighs, and the small indentation in his lower back is highlighted by the low waistband. Barely noticeable cuts in the sides expose what looks like black lace detailing. 
“Holy shit,” Eddie groans, unable to stop himself from reaching out and touching the soft, cotton material. 
“Yeah?” Steve looks over his shoulder with a knowing smile. “You like it?” 
Eddie fingers trace the font and he doesn’t even dare to blink. If it is a coma dream, he doesn’t want to risk waking up. “Do I like it? If I ever say no to that, Steve, take me into a field and off me because I’ve been replaced by the body snatchers.” 
Steve laughs and Eddie pulls him in closer, one hand on Steve’s hip and the other working its way up Steve’s thigh and beneath the fabric.
“Y’know,” Eddie starts, swallowing with a dry mouth around the lump in his throat. “There’s just one little problem with this birthday cake.”
“What?” Steve looks back over his shoulder again, this time confused. 
He gives his right cheek a light tap, just enough to relish in the way the plush flesh moves. “It’s not finished.”
“Oh yeah? What’s it need?” 
“You know I need my cakes frosted. And c’mon,” he leans forward and presses a kiss to Steve’s hairy thigh, just below the hem of the shorts. “Where’s the candle?”
Steve turns with a teasing grimace. “Did you just compare your dick to a candle?”
“Sure did. Is it working?” He smiles with his bottom lip between his teeth as he stands and places both hands in Steve’s hips. 
“I can’t believe it, but yeah, it kinda is.” Steve’s eyes flicker down to Eddie’s lips and back up. 
Eddie can barely get his thoughts in order, placing both hands on either side of Steve’s face and kissing him between words. 
“Best.” He kisses his forehead. “Birthday.” He kisses his nose. “Ever.” He kisses his lips. 
They make their way back to the bedroom and no one can blame him for leaving Steve’s ass littered in purpling hickies and love bites. 
It’s a cake, after all.
art by @firefly-party to celebrate @sidekick-hero's birthday today! here's a little collaboration to honor our favorite Cake Enthusiast! Sandy, we love you and hope you have the absolute best day. go give her some love, everyone!
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firefly-party · 4 months
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R- Rockstar
R is for Rin (@rindecision) the first person I DMed ever! Thank you for being so kind and helpful💜
I hope you will enjoy your present 🎁!
This fic is inspired by this beutiful art made by @firefly-party (who was so kind to let me use it as an inspiration!)
Rating: Teen and Up Relationship: Steve /Eddie (vague mention of Chrissy /Robin) WT: no one Words: 1144
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“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” Eddie swears while he smokes the last cigarette from his packet.
“Didn’t you promise Murray that you were going to quit? It’s bad for your voice, you know that.” Chrissy tells him when she finds him on the roof smoke chaining.
“This is a fucking emergency and I’m sure that Murray will understand.”
“If you say so.” She replies, looking at him unconvinced, so Eddie puts out the cigarette on the wall behind him.
“Did you come to give me more bad news?”
She shakes her blond ponytail “No, actually I came with a good one.”
“Is Gareth ok? Are we going to play tonight?”
“Well these are two very different questions and I’ll give you two very different answers. First no, Gareth is still at the hospital and they are not going to let him leave his room, he just got his appendix perforated and it’s not a joke.”
Eddie lets himself slip toward the floor dramatically “Fuck. We are screwed.”
“But…” she continues, helping him up “You must go back because Corroded Coffin are going to play tonight!”
Eddie’s eyes widen “You didn’t.”
Chrissy smirks “I did.”
“How the hell did you find a drummer with such a short notice? Is he good? Does he know our songs?”
“He is quite good. We are very lucky because his tour just ended and he seems to know at least some of your songs.”
“Some?”
“He is good Eddie, you will be really pleased with him, I’m sure of it.”
Eddie hugs her so tight that he almost hears the bones in the girl's body cracks “Sorry, sorry. You are a magician Chrissy! I don’t know how you made it but it’s the greatest news ever! I would have been so pissed if we had had to cancel the last date of our concert and rescheduled!”
“I know, that’s why I insisted. The drummer wasn’t really convinced at the beginning, but you know me! I worked my magic and now it’s downstairs to rehearse with Frank and Jeff.
“Without me?” the metalhead asks, offended.
“You are the one crying on the roof, not my fault.” Chrissy replies with a sweet smile.
“The face of an angel and yet you are so cruel! I was mourning! Didn’t you notice?”
“Oh, I noticed, as I noticed all the cigarette buts on the floor.”
“Promise me you will not say to Murray that I smoked.”
“Pinkie promise.” She replies with a smirk, and Eddie feels there is something he is missing, but he is so excited to have a temporary drummer that he doesn’t ask any questions and runs toward the stage.
The new drummer is turned toward the boys but he seems familiar.
“Hey, Ed! Have you seen the new drummer Chrissy got us?”
The boy turns and Eddie’s blood turns into ice “Harrington?”
The chestnut boy winks at him “Hey, Munson. Chrissy told me you needed a drummer.” 
Eddie turns toward Chrissy who is laughing behind the papers that she is holding.
“Do you care to explain, Cunningham?”
“Well, Different Twins last tour date was yesterday and they were still in town, so I asked a favor to a friend.”
“Which friend?” Eddie knows that Chrissy has a crush on the blond singer and guitarist of the duo, but she knows that he is not indifferent to the pretty drummer either.
“Is it important? I got you a drummer, isn’t that what you wanted?”
Even if Different Twins play pop music Eddie has seen Harrington play more than once and he is definitely capable of repeating a song just after one listening so Eddie is pretty sure that he will nail it; the problem is Eddie: will he be able to concentrate on the music and not on the drummer?
“I fucking hate you, Cunningham.” he murmurs between his teeth.
“Nah, you love me. Now go and do what you do best!”
Eddie raises an eyebrow “Make a fool out of myself?”
“Play!” she replies, pushing him toward the stage.
“Well, I think that the boys already told you about our songs’ setlist, right?” Eddie asks, getting on stage.
Steve nods “Yeah. We were talking about the last song. I was proposing to play Running Up the Hill.” He says making a bun with his hair and fixing it with a pen.
“Sorry?”
“Running Up The Hill, your version of the song.”
Eddie shakes his head “We usually close with our version of Sweet Dreams.”
“Yeah, I know it, but it sounds like an easy choice. I mean… don’t you want everyone to leave the concert still pumped? It’s your concert, so it’s your choice but…”
“We haven’t played it in so long.” Jeff intervenes, looking at Eddie “I’d like to play it again. What do you say?”
Eddie glares at Jeff, he just put him in a difficult position “That’s not what we decided…”
“Come on! It will be fun!” Frank insists and Eddie sighs.
“Ok, ok, but we have to rehearse it at least a couple of times, ok?”
That’s how Eddie finds himself close to Steve, watching his every movement and finding them impeccable.
“You are good.” Eddie tells him, offering some water.
“Were you worried?” Steve asks amused.
“A bit? Sorry, but it’s our last tour concert and I didn’t want to fuck it up.”
“I get it, I’m the pretty boy who plays pop music, aren’t I?”
Eddie can’t deny that he was thinking these very same words so he simply shrugs whispering “Sorry.”
“It’s fine. I guess you’ll have to offer me a beer.”
“What for?”
“For being rude?” Steve replies sticking his tongue out.
That’s not what Eddie was expecting from him, he was expecting a preppy rich kid who would have reminded him that he comes from a rich family and is a talented multi-instrumentalist, but instead, he simply asked for a beer and stuck his tongue out like a five-year-old.
When they get on stage Steve is wearing a blue tank top that shows all his constellations of moles and Eddie has to try his hardest not to get too fixed on the drummer during the concert, even if his eyes find Steve’s more time than not.
“So, how do you like him?” Jeff asks Eddie when they get backstage after the concert.
“He is good.”
“I’m sure he is good at many things…” he whispers with a wink, but Eddie can’t reply because Steve is waiting for him.
“If I’m not wrong you still owe me a beer, right?”
Eddie turns toward Jeff to ask him if he wants to join them, but somehow both he and Frank have vanished into thin air.
“Well, it seems it’s just me and you, big boy.” Eddie concludes “My place?” he asks and the smile Steve gives him tells him all he needs to know.
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firefly-party · 4 months
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TAG GAME: Favorite color 💙
thanks for the tag @made-ofmemories!!! this is so cool!!!!! (also starting a new post with this)
RULES: type your favourite color into pixbay and create a moodboard with it!
My favorite color is blue! So here we go:
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ahhhhhhh that was so much fun omg!!! ❤ I'm tagging (with pressure hahaha): @sidekick-hero @thefreakandthehair @dapandapod @just-my-latest-hyperfixation @henderdads @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @mareydi @sugarcookiesteve
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firefly-party · 4 months
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Pickup Note
Get ready to rock and roll with a new steddie fanfiction by @thefreakandthehair & @sidekick-hero with art by me!!! - coming 2024
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Eddie, you and Gareth have worked very closely over the years with him as your second in command, so to speak. What’s it been like with Steve now stepping into the drummer role? Eddie: “It’s been… different. Definitely a big adjustment but you know what they say. The show must go on, and all that shit.” Steve: “I can’t speak for everyone— that’s Eddie’s job— but all things considered, the ship is still sailing, Gareth’s been super helpful, and I think fans have a ton to get excited about.”
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sidekick_hero - AO3
througheden - AO3
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firefly-party · 4 months
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🎈 Winner announcement 💖
It’s time to announce the winner of my steddie art giveaway!!! Everyone who participated, thank you so much! 🥰
The winners are:
➡ @blubblesandink ➡ @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx ➡ @doomcheese ➡ @thesolarangel ➡ @mundaneone
Congratulations!!! ❤️
Winners, pls DM me or send an Ask or however you’d like to communicate!!!
(or via Discord. Discord is fine too :D -> keikei_firefly) If I don't hear back from you within 2 days, I'll DM you!
Also, thank you so much @sidekick-hero for being my lottery fairy and picking the winners! 🙌
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firefly-party · 4 months
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For @firefly-party mine beloved wifi, who asked for steddie, and rain against a window.
There is much to be said about living in a trailer, but Eddie always loved laying in his bed and listen to the rain as it was beating against the roof with fierce determination.
Might be a bit cliché, but look, it's cliché for a reason. right? 
Knowing that it's shitty and cold outside, knowing you are comfortable and warm inside, preferably wrapped up in as many blankets as you own, there is just something universal about that.
It's different after the upside down. It doesn't feel as safe, because some nights during a thunderstorm, he is not sure what is beating the roof, not sure what is reaching for him.
It's also different, because instead of the trailer, he is in a shitty apartment now. Walls stained with time and smoke and cheap landlord's poor taste in wallpaper, windows permanently sealed shut for the same reasons.
And because he is not alone.
Maybe that is the biggest part, actually. The best part, too.
The bed is probably a little too narrow for two people, but they make do by tangling themselves so close together it's hard to say where Eddie begins and where Stevie ends.
The duvet is bunched down by their waists, Steve's leg hooked around Eddie's calf, Eddie's arm across Steve's back, Steve's breath against Eddie's collarbones.
Eddie was never particularly hairy himself, despite his huge mop of hair, and that just allows him to feel the smattering of chest hair pressed against him, and the trail leading from Steve's belly button down his boxers. 
The air is stale with sleep and sweat,  the morning grey through their too short curtains.
Eddie is enjoying the sensation between sleep and wakefulness, where you are aware enough to feel, but asleep enough to drift.
The fog clears only when Steve stirs, shifting closer and nuzzling into the crook of Eddie's neck.
The rain outside has yet to give up its fierceness, true to the season, but without the roof of the trailer, without the thin layer of metal making out the husk of his previous home, it feels different.
Instead of hiding underneath a leaf, he feels like he finally found a burrow, a home. 
Not a very good one, objectively, but his nonetheless. His and Steve's.
Jesus, Eddie finds it hard to believe sometimes. 
Steve shifts again and makes a sound, something that sounds like half a snore, half a word, and Eddie finds himself smiling. That famous hair is a right mess, sticking up in every direction, exposing Steve's forehead.
Rain makes him soft, Eddie thinks, as he leans down the few inches it takes to press his lips to that perfectly kissable forehead.
On the floor above them, Eddie can make out the sounds of their neighbors waking up, but he isn't ready for that yet.
It's warm, cozy, safe. 
Steve gives a content sigh and his arm tightens around Eddie, before it travels up, his hand reaching Eddie's neck, under his hair,  his thumb just touching the shell of Eddie's ear.
"We should probably get up," Steve mutters, eyes still closed, lips pouty in the way they are when his cheek is pressed against the pillow.
"Probably," Eddie agrees, lips still against Steve's forehead. Pulling away is impossible, this moment feels like it is plucked out of time, a bubble of their own. "But when was I ever known to make good choices?"
"Hmmmmm," Steve supplies, and Eddie takes that as Steve disagrees, that Eddie is full of infinite wisdom. Good man.
Along Steve's back, Eddie can track moles, like a star chart written in Braille, just for him to read.
Maybe Steve will let him draw them out again, the sharpie only stayed visible for a few days.
"Did you buy eggs?" Steve says, keeping his eyes stubbornly closed as he plays with Eddie's ear, making him shudder.
"Yeah. And ice cream. Today is an ice-cream-for-breakfast-day." Eddie declares, leaning backwards to pull Steve half on top of him.
That's it, he realizes. That is what he was missing. The weight, the security of another person, the proof of being loved and trusted in ways he only imagined back in that trailer, with the world closed off, still only a thin metal wall away.
"Nancy will have my head if I'm late," Steve grumbles, but moves to fill the spaces where Eddie is not, covering him as much as he can.
"Can't be late if you don't go in," Eddie says with his infinite wisdom, cradling Steve closer, closer, close is never close enough.
"Can't fault that logic," Steve huffs. "I really don't want to get up."
"So stay," Eddie whispers.
He doesn't realize how much he needed to hear it, how much he needs Steve, until he says it.
"Always," Steve promises, promises always, always, always, whenever Eddie asks.
The rain doesn't let up until lunchtime. Steve is only let go to empty his bladder, and Steve stays, stays, always stays.
Rainy days are the best.
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