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#steddie bigbang
xgumiho · 7 months
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(You got me) in the palm of your hand
"Fortunes told, futures unfold." The sign at the local ren faire looks tempting. After all, Steve is one year out of high school and has no idea where his life is going. Sometimes he wishes someone could just gaze into the future and figure it out for him. In the fortune teller’s tent, Steve has a run-in with his past. And if he doesn’t turn on his heel and leave, it has absolutely nothing to do with how pretty Eddie Munson looks in his costume, all gleaming jewelry and dark tendrils of hair spilling out from under a patterned headscarf. He lets Eddie read his palm, because why the hell not? It’s all bogus anyway! Except, as the summer goes on, Steve finds that Eddie’s cryptic predictions somehow, inexplicably keep coming true. As they keep running into each other, almost as if orchestrated by an invisible force, Steve can’t help but be intrigued with the other boy. He also can’t seem to forget how pretty Eddie’s eyes look in black liner, or the way his fingers feel on his skin, but that is an entirely different problem. Read the fic here.
Author: @just-my-latest-hyperfixation (tumblr) | just_my_latest_hyperfixation (AO3)
Artist: Yours truly @xgumiho (tumblr) | xgumiho (instagram) | jul2ja (twitter)
The other artist creating for this fic: @peachypurr (tumblr) | peachypurr (linktree)
Thank you @steddiebang for hosting Steddie Bigbang 2023!
Personal note!
I have already talked about this but I'm gonna say it again because I can!
When Steddie Bigbang fic excerpts dropped, I got HOOKED on Hype's fic immediately. I knew I just HAD to draw for this fic because I saw what I wanted to do in my mind's eye the moment I laid my eyes on the excerpt 🖤 I loved every part of this fic and I hope y'all will love it just as much!! Chapter 1 is now available and also make sure to stay tuned for the updates - you're gonna adore each and every chapter. Please don't forget to show lots of love for the author and leave comments under the fic 🖤
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notsecretlymisha · 5 months
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Second art work for the steddie bigbang. Please go read the wonderful story that inspired this artwork Sometimes I Close My Eyes (and dream of somewhere else) by patientanxiety
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eldritch-thrumming · 5 months
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September 1986
It’s a Saturday when they finally make it up to Bloomington. Steve had to bribe Robin into taking his afternoon shift by promising he’d take three of her Monday mornings in a row. It sucked, but looking over at Eddie in his passenger’s seat, hair whipping around him as he head bangs to whatever music he’s got playing on Steve’s car radio, he thinks it’s probably worth it. 
It takes them an hour to get there and once they reach the city limits, Steve has to turn down the music so Eddie can direct him to the store he’s been coming to for the last ten years.
“Used to come here as a kid, when I first moved in with Wayne,” Eddie tells him as he gestures for Steve to make a left at the light. “The guy who owns the place—Greg—is an old friend from, like, World War II or whatever. You know, that homoerotic male bonding trauma shit.” Eddie nudges Steve with his elbow, winking when Steve looks over. “Wayne’s the one who taught me to play, did I tell you that?” Steve shakes his head. “Well, he thought it’d be a good way to get out all that energy, I guess.” Eddie grins. “Greg used to give me these tapes of the local music scene, stuff he’d been able to record at live shows or people renting out his booth in the back. There was some fucking awesome stuff in there, some of the bands have even made it pretty big. Oh, take a right here and then another right at the stop sign.” Steve sees it before Eddie points it out, a big red guitar on the sign. “That parking lot there, Stevie.” Eddie makes a big show of pointing, practically leaning out of the passenger’s side window like a dog, as if Steve needs the help at all.
Steve pulls into a spot right in front of the store and puts the car in park. Eddie practically leaps from his seat, slamming the door behind him and bounding up to the double glass doors, not even waiting for Steve to climb out of the car himself before he’s pulling the door open and rushing inside. Steve just rolls his eyes, locking the car doors before he follows.
The place is exactly what Steve expected. A little bell twinkles overhead as he passes through the entrance. It’s a little dimly lit, due to the way the storefront is arranged, but Steve can clearly see the rows of guitars hanging from the walls, the bins of sheet music underneath. There are other instruments, too, a couple of upright pianos near the counter in the back, some electric keyboards, a whole section of violins. He can’t help but think about how Robin would love this place and makes a mental note to suggest they all come up here together sometime. Steve follows Eddie’s voice to the glass counter where the register sits, harmonicas lined up on shelves lined in velvet in the case below it.
“—my friend Steve,” Eddie’s saying, gesturing towards Steve as Steve comes to stand beside him. Steve looks up at the man he assumes is Greg. He’s older, maybe a little older than Wayne even, laugh lines around his mouth and an easy smile on his lips. He’s got a long grey ponytail to match his long grey beard. A green flannel hangs off his skinny frame. Eddie smiles at Steve, his hand brushing along Steve’s bicep as he turns to introduce him. “Steve, this is Greg.”
“Hey, Steve,” Greg reaches his hand out for a shake and Steve takes it. Greg’s hand is warm and dry, eyes sparkling, friendly. Steve feels safe here. “Eddie says he’s teaching you to play guitar. Not sure how much you’re gonna learn from ol’ butterfingers here.” He points his thumb at Eddie.
“Hey!” Eddie yells in mock offense. 
Greg laughs. “When Eddie was first learning, he’d try to snack and play at the same time. Always the same thing, those Bugles, you know?” He holds his hands up in front of him, wiggling his fingertips. Steve nods, grinning. “Hands full of grease, couldn’t get a grip on anything.” 
Steve’s grin widens when Eddie rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, okay, old man.” He lifts himself from where he’d been leaning on the counter, tapping is own fingertips along the glass. “How about you make yourself useful and do your job? Steve’s looking for a new guitar.”
“Awesome, man, first one?” Greg asks Steve.
“Uh, yeah, I’ve been borrowing a friend’s, but I’d like to get one of my own.” Steve runs a hand through his hair. “Nothing too fancy, I don’t know much about anything really.”
Greg grins again. “A real newbie, I love that.” He walks across to the front left corner of the store. “Obviously you want an acoustic, easier to learn on, especially if this dumbass is the one teaching you.” Eddie lets out a sound of offense. “These are your best bet. No bells and whistles, nothing fancy. You can get fancier once you know more.” Greg turns toward Steve. “Wanna try some out?”
Steve nods and Greg slides a stool over, gesturing for Steve to sit. He pulls the first guitar off its hook and hands it to Steve. Steve strums a few chords.
“How’s it feel?” Greg asks.
“It’s good,” Steve says hesitantly.
“Good but not great, right?” Steve nods. “Yeah, I could tell. That’s okay. You’ll know when you feel it.” Greg takes the guitar back from Steve, handing him a new one.
After about four or five rounds, Greg pulls the last one off the wall. It looks a little like Robin’s, but the wood’s a little darker, almost red, and the finish is a little shinier. Steve’s fingertips are buzzing when he takes it from Greg and feels the smooth strings under his fingers. 
“That’s it, right?” Greg asks, smiling.
“Yeah,” Steve breathes out. “This is it.” He returns Greg’s smile.
Eddie meets them back up at the counter, wandering over from where he’d been sifting through the sheet music. 
“Find one?” Eddie nods toward the case on the counter. 
“Found a real good one,” Greg tells him, snapping the lid of the case open to show him.
Eddie grins, dimples on full display. “Wow, Stevie.” Eddie looks over at Steve, face soft. “Looks great. Very metal.” 
Steve’s not entirely sure why that makes him blush.
read the new chapter of all of me changed like midnight. posted now
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greatunironic · 7 months
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It’s 1994, and Eddie’s been a guest of Uncle Sam at Pelican Bay since it opened in ‘89, when his public defender stopped defending and he resigned himself to the sixty to life bag the Spring Break of ‘86 had left him holding. Sure, the series of frantic transfers that made Wayne and the Party lose track of him (and cost him his unlikely prison penpal, Steve Harrington) truly were a bummer, but life’s actually not too bad, in the long run: he’d got three hots and a cot, ya know, and sometimes a few of the other inmates actually believe him when he tells them he’s innocent. Still — the new lawyer and a paralegal shaped suspiciously like one Erica Sinclair is starting to give him pause, and make him wonder if the story's not quite over yet…
Or: a story about seven letters, the worst love song ever written, and a heist.
read the completed fic by @greatunironic HERE or listen to the gorgeous podfic by @daysarestranger HERE
written for @steddiebang
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hagnoart · 6 months
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It’s steddie bigbang time! I will add the links to the fic tomorrow, but for now - this is the art I made for Valentina’s @assassinduckie ‘s wonderful fic!
It’s a multi chapter friends-to-lovers steddie fluff and I think y’all need to read it hehe
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eriquin · 3 months
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Nightswimming
Today's my posting date for @steddiebang! Many thanks to my wonderful artist, LucaDoodleDoo. He has given me permission to post his art here, since he doesn't have a tumblr, but check him out on X/Twitter.
Chapter 1 is up, with more to follow:
Eddie Munson’s social circle had never intersected with Steve Harrington’s, even though they’d been in the same high school for the last four years, but you could say the same thing for everyone who gave the school freak a wide berth. He’d been tangentially aware of the rise and fall of King Steve as much as anyone else with ears, but he’d never given him much thought other than that. He’d been more focused on his own problems, like trying to figure out how to not fail his senior year a second time.
All of that changes one night in February of ‘85, when a nasty encounter with the new popular kids leaves Eddie cursing his bad luck. But this one bad turn leads to a rapid expansion of his circle of friends. Nancy Wheeler has brains and a frightening level of focus, Jonathan Byers is hiding hidden depths beneath his quiet loner personality, and Steve...
Steve is a literal life-saver.
Eddie wants to bite him and see if there are sparks.
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And thanks to @humangerbil and @lollaika for their tireless beta work. It's a long fic and they've been helping me fix it in so many ways.
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appledaggerst · 6 months
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Of Space and Time
A steddie AU based in the future. A time where the line between technology and reality is almost too thin.
Part of the Steddie Bigbang 2023
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nietozz · 5 months
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Steve Harrington's Ren Faire Adventures
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By Emotionalking13 @shadybullfrog, illustrated by nietozz_ @nietozz
Part of @steddiebang
Summary: After the events of Starcourt, Steve desires a way to get out of his own head. He decides to finally take up Henderson’s idea and go and pick up some of the fantasy books to read. When he starts loving it and going back for more? Well, Henderson doesn’t need to know that. Or, 3 times Steve goes to a Ren Faire alone and the 1 time he goes with his whole family.
Rating: Mature
Trigger warnings: Emotional child abuse, neglect
Prequel Illustration
Adventure 1: The Shadow of The Past Illustration
Adventure 2: The Black Gate Opens Illustration
Adventure 3: Of Herbs and Stewed Rabbit Illustration
Adventure 4: A Long-Expected Party Illustration
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writer-in-theory · 9 months
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Smooth Talkin', So Rockin' - Snippet
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I wanted to share a little bit of what I've been working on since February. This is a small part of my fic for the Steddie Big Bang event (@steddiebang ). Huge thanks to them for running this event, or I wouldn't have tackled just a large project.
In this fic, Steve is just Steve Harrington by day, but by night, he's performing in sold-out stadiums as iconic popstar Zayne Maine. Eddie Munson is an up-and-coming rock star hell-bent on proving Zayne's not all he's cracked up to be.
--
“When are you going to admit Zayne’s a good person and a good singer? Clearly, you think so, otherwise, you wouldn’t be here," Chrissy asked.
“When he admits he had no good reason to cover our song,” Eddie responded quickly, still not sure if he even believes it anymore, “and when he stops being so popular, Jesus Christ.” 
“You’re unbearable and I can’t wait to see your face when he proves you wrong live.”
“We’ll see about that,” Eddie spoke, glancing around for anyone he could use to prove his point. Most people were busy by now, rushing to accomplish every last-minute task before the start of the show. The openers were on, leaving only a precious few minutes to get everything set up.
There was one person, though, standing off to the side like he meant to disappear in the crowd.
He wore all black like many of the crew did, though instead of working like the rest of them he was leaning against a wall sipping on a bottle of water. An intern, maybe? Well, Eddie wasn’t above bothering the interns if it meant proving himself right.
“Hey!” Eddie called, waving the unknown man over. The man looked shocked, pulling an earbud out and pointing to himself like this was the first time someone purposefully noticed him. “C’mere, I have a question.”
The man listened, and walked over close enough that Eddie could get a better look at him. He was, admittedly, gorgeous in the kind of way that only normal people got to be. He was unassuming in his comfort clothes, with the kind of flowing hair that would normally have Eddie swooning and bright, brown eyes that were earnest in their focus. “Eddie Munson and Chrissy Cunningham, right? What can I, uh, do for you?”
“I’m so glad you asked,” Eddie said with a Cheshire grin, ignoring Chrissy’s eye roll. “You see, Chrissy and I were having a debate amongst geniuses, and we need you to be our tiebreaker.”
“Oh, oh I don’t think I’m your guy. I can go get—” He looked a little like a deer caught in headlights, doe-eyes wide as they flicked between Eddie and Chrissy. It was charming, the way he seemed so shocked that Eddie was talking to him now. 
“On the contrary...what’s your name, man?”
“Steve. Steve Harrington.”
Steve Harrington. Delightfully plain, with no obvious connections to anyone in the industry. This might be the first person Eddie could talk to in L.A. with zero strings attached, no expectations or cameras watching them. 
“Well, Harrington, I need someone on my side. Think you can do that?”
“Depends,” Steve answered, smoothly dodging the arm Eddie went to sling around his shoulders. He raised his eyebrows, arms crossed almost like he was trying to size up Eddie. It was an attitude that not many people took with him anymore, either because they were too starstruck or too terrified of him. “Think you can be a little less cryptic?”
“That might be kinda hard, I am known as the Cryptid of Hawkins.”
Steve’s laugh was like the bells of Notre Dame—bright, music-like, and commanding in a way that had Eddie clinging to the sound for more. 
“You’re not called that,” Steve returned, completely focused on the conversation despite the growing commotion around them.
“Oh, so you’ve heard of me.”
“I have,” Steve said, “It’s hard not to, you’re kinda popular.”
“Say that to the Midwestern moms who form protests outside our concerts,” Eddie laughed, remembering all of the angry signs that rivaled all the good ones at his last show in Indianapolis. 
“Hey, bad press is still press,” Steve answered, shrugging once like the concept didn’t bother him much. In general, nothing seemed to phase him despite talking to a not unfamous musician while backstage at one of the biggest concerts of the year. Who was this guy? “So what was it you needed?”
“Oh, right! What d’you think of Zayne Maine? It’s a safe space, I promise I won’t tell,” Eddie asked with a light teasing tone in his voice.
Surprise took over Steve’s expression then, coming in a slow wave as he clearly tried to comprehend the question. Then he laughed, a nervous thing that ended with Steve’s hand running through his beach waves. Right when Eddie was about to ask what was so funny, Steve asked, “You really wanna know what I think of Zayne Maine?”
“Only honest opinions will be accepted,” Eddie answered, “Chrissy over there seems to think he deserves all this hype.”
By the time Steve opened his mouth to respond, the commotion backstage finally caught his attention. Steve turned his head as someone asked where Zayne had gone, his cheeks flushing pink as he watched the crew search for the missing popstar.
“I think that’s my cue,” Steve sighed, beginning to step back from Eddie, “I should go find him.”
“Are you his PA?” Eddie asked then, feeling his heart begin to race. Did he really just ask Zayne Maine’s personal assistant if he thought the man was an asshole? No wonder he wanted to get away from Eddie so soon! The first time Eddie met someone gorgeous, funny, and completely out of the celebrity circle he goes and has to ruin it. Screw Zayne Maine for making him trash talk the guy’s boss.
“Something like that,” Steve answered, shaking his head and beginning to walk backward, somehow managing to stay out of everyone else’s path like he already knew where they'd be. If Eddie were to have tried something smooth like that, he would’ve fallen flat on his face in seconds. “Come find me after the show, I’ll give you my answer then, Eddie.”
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undreaming-fanfiction · 3 months
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You might have noticed that my BigBang still hasn't been posted, but that doesn't mean I haven't been working on it, just like my wonderful artists @mcdadarts and @m00n-arin have. I would like to give you a small teaser before the posting date on February 15th...
My Steddie Corpse Bride drabble seemed to get people interested in more. I heard you and because of that, I proudly announce that my BigBang fanfiction is...
With This Ring
(an excerpt from the first chapter, very reminescent of the drabble I posted over a year ago)
Steve wandered further and further into the forest, kicking at decayed wood and fallen leaves, his mood sour. “You want vows, I’ll give you some,” he muttered and grasped the wedding ring in his hand so tightly it made an imprint into his skin. 
He stomped on a rotten branch, snapping it in half. 
“With this hand, I will punch my father’s perfectly shaved face and get arrested, maybe that would postpone the stupid wedding for a day or two.” 
His foot slipped on a wet patch of moss and he stomped on it in retribution. 
“Your cup will never empty because if you ever marry into my family, alcoholism is the way to go, baby, and wine might not be enough to get through a single dinner with my parents, do you like vodka? You will need vodka.” 
Steve’s suit got caught on a thorny bush and he swore, sending a bunch of nearby crows into a complaining match. He could relate. 
“With this candle, I will set fire to our marriage certificate and set you free, at least for two days or so before our parents bribe someone to re-issue it on a fireproof paper.” 
With that last word, he slipped on moss once again and barely kept his balance, only stopping against a stump of an old oak tree. He remembered spending careless summer afternoons there, in the small clearing with Eddie, laughing and humming tunes that his mind refused to forget. The same ones he still played whenever he could, gripping the memory tight and not letting it go. Eddie might have been gone, but his melodies would stay with Steve forever, no matter how dramatic that sounded. 
The old oak tree used to be a place of comfort for him and Steve really needed some comfort. Uncaring whether his suit trousers would survive the damp and overgrown seating, he slumped down and closed his eyes, sighing. It really felt like his life was over before it had even begun. 
He finally opened his palm to look at the ring, turning it in his fingers. It looked beautiful in the setting sun, gleaming and reflecting the dying rays of light. Such a small thing. Such a commitment. 
“With this ring, I wish someone like you could be mine,” whispered Steve and hung his head down. 
He would have been content sitting in the woods much longer, but several things happened that foiled his plan. 
First, the birds stopped singing and the woods became eerily quiet. 
Second, a strong gust of wind threw several fallen leaves into Steve’s face, obscuring his vision. 
And third – a hand grasped Steve’s ankle and started pulling. 
Steve yelped and tried to run, get away from that icy touch, but to no avail - the grasp of the hand, yep, definitely a hand, not a root or anything, remained firm, although he distantly noticed some of its joints cracking, as if they were finally getting some movement after a long period of stiffness. 
Steve’s escape attempt had him yanked back, spinning around and then everything was a whirl of thick tree crowns, growing shadows and cowing of crows – and then his back hit the forest floor and everything went dark. 
When he came to, he immediately wished he’d remained unconscious for just a little longer. 
The pressure on his ankle was gone, but only because the hand found something better to do – digging. It started removing the soil around and soon another one joined it, loosening the soil…and disappearing into the ground. 
A thud from underneath. The crows were louder and louder, flapping their wings and flying in circles over the clearing. 
Another thud, roots cracking, the whole tree stump shaking and tilting back. 
And with the third one, the roots snapped and those hands were back, but with them a head of messy dark hair, pale skin covered in mud, sticks and patches of moss, faded black clothes and a chain belt, a belt that Steve knew too well, this had to be his punishment, had to be a sign because he still tried to pretend that he hadn’t known from the second the hand with all those gaudy thick rings touched him, but now he couldn’t pretend any longer, the long fingers pushed back all those dirtied strands of hair and Steve was met with the deep eyes that haunted his dreams, the best and the worst ones. Only in those dreams, the eyes had a spark of life in them, the desire to exist, to fight. 
These had none of it. Not anymore. 
Crawling away from the horrifying sight, Steve hissed as something in his ankle snapped and with unexpected clarity, he remembered his recent half-baked plan to break his own leg. Finally, something going according to plan, he thought and felt a hysterical urge to laugh. 
The figure spat out a mouthful of dirt and wiped his face, throwing his head back and letting out a dry, humorless laugh. His skin had a blue tint but, and Steve couldn’t comprehend why his brain would focus on that instead of the actual reanimated corpse in front of him, was surprisingly well-preserved. It would have been a wonderful Halloween costume and maybe others would have doubted, assumed that it was a prank, a sick joke, but Steve saw the undisturbed moss, the unnatural movements of those once graceful limbs, and knew. 
What used to be Eddie leaned down, the clearing quiet except for cracking of joints and Steve’s uneven breathing, and picked up something shiny, something that caught the last ray of the setting sun before shadows enveloped both of them, the living and the dead. It was a ring – the ring that Steve must have dropped right before he fainted. 
“Eddie-“ Steve whispered and he wanted to say so much, ask even more, but the words wouldn’t leave his lips. He just stared at his former friend and the ring he was holding. 
Eddie’s pale lips spread into a wide smile, his dirtied teeth on display. “That for me, Harrington?” he asked, cocking his head to the side as he examined the ring. His voice was rough, parched. “I expected at least one date first, perhaps a dinner. And the ring isn’t really my style. But,” he sighed with theatricality so familiar that it made Steve’s heart ache, “beggars can’t be choosers. Well then, King Steven the first of the House of Harrington…” 
Steve couldn’t speak. He just watched as Eddie slipped the wedding band onto his ring finger. 
“I do.”
The full fic will begin posting on 15th of February, unless the world ends. Or something.
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toburnup · 11 months
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bigbang fic reveal! to no one's surprise, i'm writing about cowboys.
i'm teaming up with @cuips-not-cute and @/garfeddie (twitter) 💙 excited to share more in the coming months!!
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(You got me) in the palm of your hand
Complete | 7 chapters | 39,850 words
Read it on AO3
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Summary:
“Fortunes told, futures unfold.”
The sign at the local ren faire looks tempting. After all, Steve is one year out of high school and has no idea where his life is going. Sometimes he wishes someone could just gaze into the future and figure it out for him.
In the fortune teller’s tent, Steve has a run-in with his past. And if he doesn’t turn on his heel and leave, it has absolutely nothing to do with how pretty Eddie Munson looks in his costume, all gleaming jewelry and dark tendrils of hair spilling out from under a patterned headscarf. He lets Eddie read his palm, because why the hell not? It’s all bogus anyway!
Except, as the summer goes on, Steve finds that Eddie’s cryptic predictions somehow, inexplicably keep coming true. As they keep running into each other, almost as if orchestrated by an invisible force, Steve can’t help but be intrigued with the other boy. He also can’t seem to forget how pretty Eddie’s eyes look in black liner, or the way his fingers feel on his skin, but that is an entirely different problem.
Project #005 of the @steddiebang, art by @xgumiho and @peachypurr
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eldritch-thrumming · 6 months
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our bigbang fic is finally here!
all of me changed like midnight. | M | 25k
Author: antithetical-dream-girl Artist: @hellfiredemon Artist: @steves-strapcollection
In the fall of 1986, Eddie invites Steve and Robin to one of his shows at the Hideout. Steve is mesmerized by Eddie's performance, captivated by the way Eddie's hands move up and down his guitar, by the way Eddie's measured breaths deliver a strong and confident lyrical performance. When Steve compliments Eddie after the show, Eddie offers to teach Steve to play the guitar. Steve is completely taken by the whole project and a romance blooms, tender and soft, as they begin to speak through the music they play for each other.
Shortly after Steve confesses his love for Eddie, Eddie flees Hawkins, determined to live out his dreams as a rockstar and convinced that's not what Steve wants for himself. Steve and Robin move to Indy, where they begin playing open mics at the coffeeshop Steve works at. Steve finds that songwriting is the perfect way to give voice to his feelings of grief, love, and abandonment.
The fic spans ten years as Steve and Eddie weave their way in and out of each other's lives, writing songs that can only be meant for each other.
Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson Characters: Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley, Eddie Munson Tags: friends to lovers, exes to lovers, pining, mutual pining, non-linear narrative, friends with benefits, slowburn, temporarily unrequited love, the love is requited it just takes them a minute, musician steve harrington, musician robin buckley, famous eddie munson, steve harrington has a crush on eddie munson, rockstar eddie munson, gay eddie munson, bisexual steve harrington, stobin as a musical duo, singer-songwriter steve harrington, angst with a happy ending, lots of music talk from a non-musician, pov steve harrington, pov eddie munson, pov alternating, steve harrington & robin buckley are best friends, stobin as boygenius, inspired by a boygenius song, inspired by a taylor swift song
You can read the first chapter here on AO3 :)
with art from @hellfiredemon here!!
and a playlist from @steves-strapcollection coming soon.
there is also an author playlist here that includes songs both referenced and alluded to in the fic, as well as songs that inspired moments throughout the story :)
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artaxlivs · 8 months
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So down for Fuck Shit Up Friday.
Gimme a tasty snippet of your big bang fic, pretty please.
NSFW is so more than okay
You got it! 🤩 Here's a little snippet from the dance studio of my Steddie Dirty Dancing AU (minus all the toxic BS because this dirty dancing is all about trust baby)
Still on his knees, Eddie brackets Steve’s clean white sneakers with his thighs. Wrapping his fingers around each of Steve’s ankles. Eddie trails his hands slowly up and over Steve’s calves, up the taut muscled thighs, calloused palms sliding through the coarse hair on his legs. Steve’s little gym shorts are straining with the bulge of his erection and Eddie traces just the tip of his finger up the swell of his cock, feels it throb even though his touch is featherlight. Steve’s breath is coming in little pants and his knuckles are white where they’re clenched around the ballet bar behind him. Leaning in, Eddie nuzzles the front of his shorts, nosing against the growling bulge there while sliding his hands further up the back of Steve's thighs and into his shorts to cup his ass from inside the pant legs.  Moaning, Steve melts, canting his hips up just a little. “Be good, Stevie. Keep your hands on the bar and your feet on the floor unless I tell you to move or you need to safeword, okay?” Eddie tells him, letting his voice drop into a lower register and squeezing Steve’s ass hard enough to make him go up on his tiptoes.
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isabellehemlock · 7 months
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Steddie art for a Steddie fic for the @steddiebang
This gal got to draw some Steddie art for two writers over the summer and I get to share the first set today (well okay, number two is a teaser but the pic and the link to twitter for the full uncensored version is below the cut 😘)
Thank you to @skwistok for both inspiring me with your fantastic fic snippets as well as just being such a lovely person all around that it was more joy than work! I'm excited to start diving in over the weekend, and if you'd like to as well, click here. Here's a few more close ups:
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And below the cut is a teaser for the NSFW second piece, but it's blurred in the middle - to see the full uncenceored version, you'll have to head to twitter via the link below 😏
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See the full version here via twitter 🔥
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eriquin · 4 months
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WIP Weekend
Stealing the rules from @kedreeva.
I'm drawing closer to finishing my Steddie Bigbang project and need a little kick. Also, tomorrow is a snow day so I might as well write.
Here’s how it works:
In a reblog (or new post w/ rules attached), post up to five (5) filenames of your WIPs; not titles, file names.
Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to post!
After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can't share from (for example, an event fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.
That’s it! You can invite others to join in, or just post. If you tag me in your post, I will send you an ask request! Also, if you send me an ask, I'll look on your page to see if you'd like one back. This works best when we help each other!
Additional Temp Rule:
Every non-Nightswimming request will also get me to write 3 sentences on Nightswimming, so I can actually finish the damn thing.
Files:
Nightswimming working doc
Crown of Thorns
The Prophetic D&D Game
Cat's in the Cradle
The Trolley Problem (formerly Time Travel)
Progress Chart:
Tumblr media
(See? I've been working on it. I swear)
Snippet and Taglist behind the cut
Snippet from Nightswimming:
“I know,” he said. “But it still feels like I’m responsible for them, you know?”
“There’s such a thing as too much responsibility.”
“And how would you know?” Steve bit back, sharper than he expected. 
Eddie flashed him a smile that showed too much teeth. “No need to be a bitch about it, Harrington,” he said. Steve looked away. “What I’m saying is that you need to learn to let them go a little bit, or they’re going to start treating you like you’re a parent and rebel like proper teenagers.”
Steve let his head bang against the wall of the van. “I can’t, though,” he said.
“Why?”
He shut his eyes and rolled his head from side to side. “Can’t tell you,” he said. “Trust me though. You don’t want to know.”
“And if I say that I really, really do?”
“I still can’t tell you,” Steve said. He put his hand over his heart and made a little cross sign. “Swear to God.”
Tagging: @nburkhardt, @marvel-ous-m, @anzelsilver, @patchworkgargoyle, @loveinhawkins, @lady-lostmind, @lollaika, @emeraldzephyr, @riality-check, @findafight, @lihhelsing, @sayesayes, @xenon-demon, @acecrack-mack, @jjoesjonas, @h-i-raeth, @bifuriouswaterbender, @weronlystardust, @steddierthings, @augustjustice, @greenlikethesea, @stevebabey, @lingeringmirth
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