I got to collab with @arelliann on this piece for a line art exchange for the @steddiebbang while we waited for art claims to roll around. They did the linework and I did the color!
do not forget the patron saint of these weeks that we celebrate ourselves proudly and openly in the streets
her name was Marsha P Johnson, and we have her to thank for so much.
remember, the first Pride was a riot, and she was one of the brave souls who endured it to help carve the path which so many of us walk today. she helped found several activist groups regarding LGBT safety and wellbeing. and she was absolutely radiant, too.
AU where Steve is under the impression that Eddie is the driver his parents hired for him after his last head injury. He is under this impression because he keeps getting in Eddie's car and Eddie keeps driving him to work.
This keeps happening because Eddie didn't have the heart to tell this incredibly hot guy that he was in the wrong car. He's not a driver. He's actually a drug dealer and the only reason he was outside of Steve's building is because he was selling.
@steddiebbang 2026 - Project #026 - Methods of Keeping You Clean
We can finally announce our projects for Steddie Big Bang 2026!!! I am sooooooo excited to be working with Spiinka (you can find her stuff over on bsky) to share this story set in a non-UD universe but with its own weird mystery
written for the @corrodedcoffinfest June microfic challenge
prompt: knot | wc: 586 | pov eddie | rated: T | tags: pre steddie, background robin/chrissy, eddie has a crush on steve, subtle flirting, eddie hates camping - until steve changes his mind | also on ao3
Eddie made a lot of bad choices in his life but this one might be his worst yet. Letting Chrissy talk him into a fucking camping trip with Buckley and Harrington, a whole damn weekend spend out in the wild, sleeping in tents and all, ugh.
There's a reason why Wayne looked at him like he'd grown a second head when he told him about the trip, knowing too well that his nephew is not made for the outdoors. They tried that once, when Eddie was 12, and agreed to never do it again for both their sakes.
He should’ve stuck by that, but here he is now, sitting uncomfortably on a log, swatting at mosquitoes, feeling bored and itchy and useless. He offered to help the girls get the cooler from the van (‘No, Eddie. We do not have to hunt or fish for food,’ thank fucking god for that!) but got the hint when Chris said they're fine on their own.
So he sits there and mopes, watching Steve pile up twigs and newspaper scraps to build a fire, and as much as he hates to admit it, is impressed by how quickly he gets it started.
"Where d'you learn that?" he asks honestly curious, his heart skipping a beat when Steve turns to him with a proud, gorgeous smile.
"Oh, uh. Summer camp. When I was 13," he replies and shrugs it off like it's nothing.
Of course. Fucking rich kids and their fucking fancy Summer time activities.
"My parents went on a trip to Paris and didn't trust me to stay home alone."
No, actually? Fuck Steve's parents for going on vacation without him.
"What, like, some boy scout thing or something? Where they teach you how to tie knots and stuff?" Eddie jokes and Steve laughs, says "Yeah. Something like that."
Seemingly satisfied with his work, Steve takes his attention away from the steadily crackling fire and sits down beside Eddie.
"Had my first kiss there, too," he fake-whispers, leaning in like he's sharing a secret the trees and birds around them aren't supposed to hear.
Eddie's ears are burning, but it's definitely from the heat of the fire, not because Steve is suddenly so close now, their knees are touching.
"Oh, really? Did you sneak into the girls' quarters at night?" Eddie laughs weakly, feeling just a tiny bit jealous for reasons he’s not willing to give any thought right now.
"Hell no!” Steve huffs out, “The counsellors threatened to put anyone they caught breaking the rules on cleaning duty. Do you know how nasty the wash rooms were? Scarred me for life, man." Steve shakes his head and scrunches his nose in disgust, then his lips curl up into a cheeky grin. "Luckily, I didn't have to sneak out." Steve winks at him and it takes Eddie a second to get what he’s implying. "His name was Alex."
Oh, okay. Yep. That’s- great.
"Sounds like you had a lot of fun," Eddie says, acting casual when on the inside, he's having a minor (major) crisis.
"Mhm, yeah. Learned a lot at camp."
Steve stands, picking up some logs to feed the fire with, looking back over his shoulder when he suggests, "I could show you, while we're here."
Eddie swallows roughly.
He has the sinking feeling Steve is not talking about showing him how to start a fire, or how to tie a knot.
And suddenly, the thought of sharing a tent with him doesn't seem so horrible anymore.
Bingo Card: 1980s || Prompt: Dwight Yoakam || Song: Pocket of a Clown | Word Count: 1015 | Rating: T | CW: Bad Dads | POV: Eddie | Pairing: Eddie & Gareth, Eddie & Wayne, Eddie & His Dad (Off Screen) | Tags: First Meeting, Eddie's Got Daddy Issues, So Does Gareth, Good Uncle Wayne Munson
Eddie bats all the dice and figures off the table in the drama room, listening as they all laugh uproariously when the pieces clatter against the tile. Eddie likes the attention, he does. But today is a hard one, and he's distracted. His dad was released from prison this morning. Wayne stopped by during lunch to give him the news.
Seeing Wayne standing at the edge of the cafeteria had made the bottom drop out of Eddie's stomach.
Now that he knows, Eddie's not sure if it's good news or bad news. Just news, maybe.
It won't last long. It never does. His dad will be back in jail, or worse, prison before the end of the year. Some new scheme will go sideways, because it always does, and Eddie'll be left standing there watching him being pushed into the back of a cop car. Hands cuffed behind his back.
Eddie's seen it happen at five, at eight. Nine, ten, twelve, and thirteen. Eddie's sure he'd have seen it at fourteen, too, if his dad hadn't gotten two years that time. Now, Eddie's fifteen and sure he won't even have his driver's license before it happens again.
Maybe that's a good thing. Maybe he won't get promoted to getaway driver.
So, Eddie puts on his silliest mask. The one that gets him extra detentions and a crowd to gather. His protective shield that he wears so much of the time these days. He's a clown, his face twisted into a grin to hide the shit on the inside that he never wants to think about.
He doesn't want his dad to come back and fuck everything up again. Eddie's fifteen. He doesn't want to be involved. He's old enough to get pinched himself. The town already thinks he's headed in that direction, and Eddie fucking swore he'd never let himself be like his old man.
That's easy when he's not around. A lot harder when he is, unfortunately.
The campaign is over, and he picks up all the pieces off the floor, before walking towards where the activity bus will be to take him home, along with all the other kids with extra curricular activities, long after the regular buses have already run for the day.
When it pulls up, he finds a spot at the back, and rests his head against the glass.
The kid in front of him turns around, hand gripping the pleather seat, "Bad day?"
"Bad life," Eddie responds, letting his mask slip for a second. But this is a little kid. Junior high, maybe. Maybe. He looks like a baby. Eddie needs to bring out the clown. His heart just isn't in it. Not today.
"Same," the kid says, and Eddie chuckles. This kid hasn't lived long enough to have a bad life, yet.
Then, Eddie swallows. Eddie had definitely lived enough life by his age to know when it's bad. And Eddie knows he ain't special.
"What happened?" Eddie asks.
"My dad," the kid says, and well, Eddie knows that song and dance. "He left when I was like two, but now he wants to show back up, and expects me to spend weekends with him. I don't even know him."
Eddie nods, "I know how that goes."
"My mama said I don't have to go along with his bullshit."
Eddie chuckles, "Your mama is smart. What's your name, kid?"
"Gareth," the little twerp says.
"Very King Arthur of you," Eddie says.
The kid huffs, "Yeah. I hate it."
"No, it's cool. You're a knight, Gareth the Great. That's a good roll. Trust me. Gareth: 'the lover of ladies, and they loved him greatly'," Eddie quotes.
"Yeah, that sounds like me," Gareth says dryly.
Eddie laughs. This kid is funny.
"He also beheads his own mother and is killed by Lancelot," Gareth says, and Eddie grins. This kid is a nerd. Excellent.
"What grade are you in?" Eddie asks.
"7th," he answers.
"Okay, when you're a freshman, and I'm a senior, you come find me. I'm Eddie. I have a D&D club for high schoolers. Do you play D&D?"
Gareth shakes his head.
"You will. Trust me," Eddie says, and digs in his pocket, pulling out a 20-sided die. Handing it over. "Don't say I never gave you anything. Join us. You'll learn things they don't teach in school."
Gareth looks down at the die in his palm, and sways on the seat as the bus lurches to a stop.
Looking out the window, Gareth says, "This is me."
Eddie nods, then says, "Gareth. If you don't want to see your dad. Don't see your dad."
Gareth nods his head, his curly mop of hair swishing around.
Then, Eddie watches as the kid darts down the aisle, clambering down the bus steps and launching himself across the lawn to the nice suburban house.
At home, Eddie drops down onto the couch face down. He moans and groans, being dramatic.
"That bad?" Wayne questions from the kitchen, half-mumbled around the cigarette dangling from his lip.
Maybe Eddie should take his own advice.
"I don't want to see my dad," he says into the couch cushion. Just because his dad's out of prison doesn't mean Eddie's life should get worse again. He's happy here with Wayne. Wayne never makes him do anything shady. Eddie's never expected to be the lookout. And if Wayne knows how to hotwire a car, he's never said so.
Eddie knows how. He shouldn't, but he does.
He has felt like a kid again, being with Uncle Wayne.
"What was that?" Wayne hollers back, slamming the fridge door closed.
Eddie lifts his face, and shouts with his whole chest, "I don't want to see my dad!"
Wayne puts the tube of ground chuck on the countertop, and leans across the island, pulling the cigarette from his mouth, "Wasn't planning on letting him see you, anyway. Guess that's settled, huh?"
And Eddie finally feels like he can breathe, maybe. Good. That's good.
"Oh. Okay."
"Great. Now come peel these potatoes, kid. They ain't gonna peel themselves."
If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @corrodedcoffinfest and follow along with the fun! 🦇
Written for the @steddiemicrofic May prompt “door” | wc: 599 | rated: M | cw: implied sexual content, making out | tags: established relationship, light property damage
———
Steve had no right to look so good on the Munsons’ ratty, secondhand sofa.
The thought buzzed in Eddie’s brain as he took in the sight from his perch in Steve’s lap. Mussed hair, puppy dog eyes, flushed cheeks, kiss-swollen lips— Steve was simply too gorgeous for the orange plaid monstrosity beneath them. It was a clear affront that demanded rectification.
After another breathtaking kiss, Eddie murmured, “Maybe we should, um, go to my room? If you want?” It didn’t come out quite as smooth or assertive as he meant it but it served his purpose, if the reflexive squeeze of Steve’s hands on his hips was any indication.
“Yeah, I want,” Steve grinned.
Even his teeth were beautiful, damn him. Eddie couldn’t resist the urge to kiss him again, and again, and one more time, for good measure, just to make sure he would remember the way Steve’s adorable canines felt against his tongue.
Then the memory was thrown out as Steve dropped his hands to grip just below Eddie’s ass and stood up, lifting Eddie along with him.
“Jesus Christ!” Eddie yelped, throwing his arms around Steve’s neck and hanging on for dear life. “A little warning next time?”
He could feel Steve’s answering chuckle vibrate in his chest. “Why, scared I’ll drop you?”
He was, in fact, but Eddie was more distracted by the logistics of his current predicament. He wasn’t sure what to do with his legs, having never been carried like this before, and he definitely didn’t know what to do about the increased blood flow to his dick. Sue him, it was hot knowing that Steve could pick him up and throw him around a little.
The bedroom door was already open, so it didn’t take much effort for Steve to walk them into the room and kick the door shut behind them. Even the sound of the latch clicking was hot, so help him.
Steve looked over Eddie’s shoulder and paused. “Uh, the bed is kind of… already occupied.”
Eddie twisted in his arms to glimpse the papers scattered across the bedding, relics of that morning’s campaign planning session. “Whoops, sorry. I can—”
The rest of the sentence turned into a gasp as Eddie found himself pressed against the door and, more importantly, with Steve pressed against him from hip to shoulder. The way Steve held him left Eddie about a head taller, looking down into Steve’s heavy-lidded eyes in a way that sent a thrill up Eddie’s spine.
“Hi,” Steve whispered, smirking like he knew exactly what Eddie was feeling.
“Hi,” Eddie echoed. He ducked his head to capture Steve’s lips with his, tangling his fingers in the hair at the nape of Steve’s neck to angle him better.
The slight tug made Steve’s hips stutter, which jolted Eddie enough that his foot slipped down to catch the back of Steve’s knee, knocking them both off-balance until, with a startling crack, Eddie found himself sinking into a newly formed hole in the door.
“What was that?” he asked, as if the answer would be different when spoken aloud.
Steve gaped in horror, eyes wide as he took in the dent that Eddie’s ass had made in the thin wood. “Shit. I am so sorry.” Carefully, he lifted him up and out of the wreckage, gently setting Eddie down to rest his feet on the carpet again.
“I don’t think it was designed to hold the weight of two adult men,” Eddie observed, mourning the possibilities. “They don’t make them like they used to.”
snowghoul
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