Recently, the Mod Team has noticed that Work In Progress fics haven't been getting the celebration they deserve. Readers are refusing to read unfinished works and saving their kudos until the work is completed, rather than sharing the love as the work is updated.
Fandom is built on WIPs.
An active fandom is filled with works being updated at varying frequencies. You might luck out at the right time to find a fic that updates every day like clockwork. You may find a fic that posted it's last chapter right as you went searching for a fic. You may scrounge around and find an incredible gem that hasn't been updated in two years, but gosh is it worth the read.
This is fandom. This is fanfic.
Here at Steddie Underdog Fics, our page was meant to highlight fics that were getting lost in the boom of activity in the early Steddie days. At the time, the inaugural Steddie Big Bang was posting and we were still seeing high frequencies of fic being posted daily. So many AMAZING works were getting buried by other AMAZING works! We wanted to take a pause and celebrate the fics, as they were, in the moment.
This has worked for us these last two years and we're not changing anything. The information on our fic recs reflects the time of our mods creating the post. If it's a complete or incomplete fic, we make that clear with the chapter count on the post AND it's also a column on our spreadsheet of rec'd fics.
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Everyone has reading preferences. We're not saying you have to read WIPs, just like we wouldn't say you have to read a Major Character Death fic. We as a team give you the information we have about the fic to make an informed decision on whether you'd like to read it. The rest is up to you.
We do ask, if you've never been a fanfic writer or if it's been some time, that you take a moment to put yourself in the authors shoes. Writing is a very vulnerable craft and hobby, and fanfic authors pour themselves into free works for the joy of it.
Sometimes it gets to be too much, though. Life gets in the way, health issues come up, or they just lose the drive to complete the fic. Any reason is valid. NO reason is valid. So yes, fics can be left ongoing for some time, but not necessarily by choice. You never know when a random kudos or comment on a WIP could inspire or drive an author to write ten more chapters.
In the age of AI, we implore you to remember that these are HUMANS creating these works. They are not machines creating content for you to consume.
For the month of July, we're celebrating Works In Progresses.
All of our Challenges this month will be ONLY WIP stories and we ask that you consider sharing WIPs for our theme weekends as well. Giving an ongoing fic a little love can go a long way, for both the reader and the author.
Please consider reading a WIP this month. Leave a kudos or comment. Share it with a friend. Spread the love of fic.
need a steddie fic where eddie surprises steve by knowing all the words to lay all your love on me by abba - he either goofily serenades him at a party or performs it at a corroded coffin show - and steve realises he’s in love 🙂↕️
So a while ago I read a fic where Steve basically can't handle everything after the upside down and takes off. I know he's like in some small Canadian town making furniture and Eddie finds him.
And also read one where Steve moves to the city and lives in this really crappy apartment and basically alienates himself from everyone.
First of all, I can't remember the title of either of those and they were great. Second... Does anyone know of any other fics where Steve's the one who vanishes after everything happens and no one can find him? But Eddie never gives up etc etc. The more angst, the better. It just sounds so delightfully painful.
He doesn’t actually see Steve wipe out. He’s gotten up to change the radio station, and in the moment of silence between songs, he hears Max yell, “Shit, Steve, stop!”
He turns off the radio on instinct, and hears Steve yelling, “I don’t know how to fucking stop!”
“Just jump off, there’s a hill, oh my god—”
By the time Eddie makes it to the window, Steve is on the ground, and it looks bad. Max is crouching over his prone form at the bottom of the incline outside Eddie’s trailer, and she’s saying, “Holy shit, Steve, Steve, don’t move, oh my god—” and she’s wiping a bloody hand on her jeans, and Eddie is outside before he even really registers what’s happening.
“Is he okay?” he asks, voice loud and sudden.
Max’s head shoots up, and she looks scared, pale. Her eyes are huge and watery. “He hit his head, there’s a lot of blood—”
And of fucking course he did. Of fucking course there is.
Eddie jumps down the stairs, over the railing, and runs to them, breath caught in his throat. Steve is on his back on the asphalt, and there is blood, like, everywhere. But with head wounds, Eddie knows, that doesn’t mean much. “Go inside,” he tells Max quickly. “Get me a clean towel and some water.”
Max gets up and runs. Eddie gets on his knees next to Steve and holds his face between his hands, holding it still, and says, “Steve? You with me?”
Steve groans. His mouth is full of blood, too, and it stains his teeth red as he says, “Fuck.”
i know everyone loves a classic 5+1 fic; this is a 5+1+1 fic including bamf steve harrington. and he's always beat up for some reason, can you believe that?? jk, it's pretty canon compliant for a canon divergent fic so it's not rly that shocking. no matter, though, eddie is always there to fix him up after :D
no tags to be weary of, there's a lot of blood mention in this fic though, and a small amount of angst that's genuinely just canon compliant to the show (starcourt mention, the events leading up to eddies death without his Actual Dying). it's actually mostly fluff!!
“So,” Eddie said. Then, he signed something else Steve couldn’t understand. YOU, something, then ME?
The missing word was extremely important. Thankfully, Eddie seemed to recognize that Steve didn’t understand. Eddie fingerspelled, S-T-A-L-K, then signed STALK again.
YOU STALK ME?
Once Eddie’s initial question clicked, Steve shook his head aggressively.
“No, no,” he insisted. “I came here for Max, because her and I have a bunch of friends in common, and -”
“Steve,” Eddie said, cutting him off. JOKING.
Steve exhaled in relief. “Oh. Right,” he said. From then on, Eddie spoke as he signed.
“How long have you been signing?” he asked.
“Three months,” Steve answered. “Started losing my hearing in July.”
“Shit,” Eddie replied. “So it’s very new.” Steve nodded, noticing that instead of signing VERY NEW, Eddie signed NEW with a more dramatic motion and expression. Interesting.
this fic is one that i hold so very near and dear to my heart. honestly? i haven't found a lot of deaf/hoh steve fics that actually do the trope justice. while i'm not deaf OR hoh, exactly, i do struggle with auditory processing disorder and often rely on ASL or visual cues so i love the way that this fic was written!
there's not a lot to worry about in this fic, honestly. possibly an ableism warning, if you squint at nancy but it gets better. mentions of cancer in a chapter, period typical homophobia, drinking and weed mentions.
i should also mention that this fic is pre-relationship but is definitely part of a series where steve and eddie get together! (spoilers — sorry not sorry!)
an obvious conspiracy - modern aged up! steddie au
SUMMARY
Jasmine Harrington is sixteen, bored, and in possession of a vintage camcorder. So, she decides to make a documentary proving her father is secretly dating his “best friend,” Eddie Munson.
check part I here and part II here
PART III
It begins with a shaky, extreme close-up of Jaz’s face. She is hiding behind a display of athletic socks inside a brightly lit shoe store, looking slightly disheveled and whispering directly into the microphone.
“Okay, okay… so,” she whispers, glancing nervously to her left. “I know I haven’t filmed in like, four days. Junior year is literally trying to kill me and I forgot the camera in my backpack.”
She adjusts her grip on the device. “But today, my dad needed me to help him find new sneakers. It was supposed to be a totally normal, boring day at the mall. Just the two of us. Until…”
She turns the camera around, zooming in sharply toward a corner of the massive store.
Steve is sitting on a bench, surrounded by at least three open shoe boxes and a pile of shopping bags. Standing right in front of him, hands resting casually on his hips, is Eddie. He is looking down at Steve with an expression that can only be described as fond, shaking his head slightly at whatever Steve is saying.
“Guys, there is no way this is a coincidence!” Jasmine hisses into the microphone. “Are you seeing what I’m seeing? He just spawned here!”
The video cuts abruptly.
The next shot is moving, capturing the ceiling of the mall and the tops of passing heads, as if the camera is being held loosely at chest height while walking. A deep voice speaks from just beside the lens.
“So… let me get this straight,” Eddie’s voice says, sounding genuinely confused. “You’re a vlogger now? A TikToker? A Snap… chatter?”
The camera swings around clumsily to face Jasmine. She is walking next to him, laughing and shaking her head.
“Nooo!” she protests. “I’m doing a school project, Uncle Eddie. Just a project. I am not a, uh, influencer or anything like that.”
Eddie turns the camera to himself, frowning playfully. “And what’s with this ancient brick, Jaz?”
“It’s for my film class. I wanted to use Uncle John’s old camera to capture the… texture of reality. Phones are too clean.” Jasmine lies smoothly.
Eddie raises his eyebrows behind his sunglasses, nodding slowly. “You go with your vision, girl. I would have just used my cellphone and called it a day, but your idea is way cooler.”
“Right?” Steve’s voice chimes in from the other side. “I said the same thing!”
The camera pans over to Steve. He is walking with another shopping bag tucked under his arm.
Eddie chuckles, looking over at him. “Bet you’re the one who raised her all picky about aesthetics, Harrington.”
Steve lets out a scoff of disbelief, looking up at the ceiling and then giving Eddie a playful, side-eye glare. “Oh, yeah. So it’s my fault? What about your weird retro field trips to dusty record stores?”
Eddie grabs the side of the camera lens, turning it toward himself again, making his face fill the frame.
“And that is me teaching the kid some culture!” he declares to the lens. “Jaz, put that in your documentary about… the texture of reality, okay? Your dad here is an uncultured pretty boy who wouldn't know art if it hit him in the face.”
“Hey! I bought the sneakers you liked!” Steve protests in the background, shoving Eddie’s shoulder.
Eddie just laughs, winking at the camera before the video ends.
The recording cuts abruptly. The camera is much steadier now, held at a higher angle. It’s pointed directly at a full-length mirror in the center of the store’s aisle.
Jaz stands in front of it, turning slightly to inspect her reflection. She is wearing a massive, oversized teddy coat with a bold, graphic cow print—large irregular black spots on pure white. Her hair is pulled back into two thick Dutch braids that start at the crown of her head and meet at the nape of her neck, exploding into a low, voluminous ponytail of curls.
“I don't know…” Jasmine says, chewing on her lip as she looks at herself. “I don’t know if I can pull this off. Is it too much?”
“Too much?” Eddie’s voice comes from behind the camera, scoffing loudly. “Kid, are you kidding me? You look gorgeous. You are literally serving high fashion right now. You should totally get that.”
In the mirror, Jasmine tilts her head, still hesitant. “Hmm. I don’t know.”
From somewhere off-screen to the right, Steve’s voice pipes up. “Come here, let me see.”
“Go on, go on,” Eddie urges, ushering her with his free hand, which briefly enters the frame—rings flashing under the store lights.
The camera pans to follow Jasmine as she walks toward a seating area near the dressing rooms. Steve is standing there, holding a few button-down shirts on hangers. He looks up, and his face instantly softens.
“Wow,” Steve says, a smile spreading across his face. “You look beautiful, Jaz. So grown up.”
Jasmine smooths the fuzzy fabric of the coat. “Are you sure?”
“Of course I am,” Steve nods emphatically.
“Hmm,” Jasmine hums, looking down at the cow print again. “I think I’m gonna buy it.”
“You know what?” Eddie’s voice interrupts from behind the lens. “I think this might be your birthday present.”
Jasmine’s head snaps up to look at the lens. “Nooo, Uncle Eds, come on. My birthday isn’t even close.”
“Oh well,” Eddie dismisses the logic effortlessly. “Too bad. Because I’m buying it for you.”
“You don't have to do that!” Jasmine protests, though she’s already smiling.
“Of course I do, girl,” Eddie says. “And if you want to throw in that pink skirt you were looking at earlier, I don't care either.”
Jasmine’s jaw drops. “SERIOUSLY?”
“Yeah,” Eddie laughs. “Go get it.”
“Oh my god, thank you!” Jasmine squeals. She rushes toward the camera, and the image goes blurry and dark for a second as she wraps Eddie in a tight hug before sprinting off toward the racks.
The camera stabilizes again as Eddie walks over to the bench where Steve is. The angle lowers as Eddie sits down, the frame now filled mostly with Steve’s legs clad in his worn-in grey sneakers, and Eddie’s own ripped knees and combat boots entering the shot.
They sit in silence for a moment, the ambient mall noise humming around them.
“What?” Eddie asks finally, his voice low and amused.
“You love to spoil her, huh?” Steve says, his tone gentle but accusing. “Too much.”
“Oh, come on,” Eddie chuckles softly. The camera shifts slightly, just enough to catch Steve’s hand resting on his own knee. “Like you don't do the exact same thing.”
Steve laughs, a quiet, resigned sound. “It’s those convincing eyes of hers, okay? She gets me.”
“She got that from you,” Eddie murmurs. “Liz is a sweetheart, sure, but that look? That is totally you.”
The video cuts to a high-angle shot looking down the steep, metallic teeth of a moving escalator. Steve is standing on a step a few down from the camera, staring intently at his phone with a furrowed brow. Eddie is on the step directly behind him, leaning over Steve’s shoulder so his chin is practically resting on it, his finger pointing at something on the screen. They are so engrossed in their conversation that they completely block the way for a small crowd of people forming behind them, entirely oblivious to the annoyed sighs.
The view is partially obscured as the camera zooms in through a shelf of glassware inside a home goods store. Steve is holding a green, grassy-scented candle under Eddie’s nose. Eddie sniffs it, wrinkles his nose in dramatic disgust, and immediately snatches a different, darker candle from the shelf and shoves it into Steve’s face. Steve smells it and nods in immediate approval, tossing two of them into the shopping cart without a second thought.
Then, the camera catches them from behind as they walk through the main corridor. They aren't holding hands, but they are walking so close that their arms bump with every other step. As they approach a large trash can, Steve’s hand comes up and rests briefly on the small of Eddie’s back, steering him safely around the obstacle before dropping away naturally.
In the next cut, Jaz is sitting in the middle of a bustling food court. The table is piled high with shopping bags—clothing stores, a colorful stationery shop, and a box labeled "Fragile" sticking out of a bag near her elbow.
“So,” Jasmine says, with a satisfied smirk. “I secured the goods. Got a new outfit, stocked up on pens I definitely don’t need, and Uncle Eds found some weird gothic candle holders for his new house move.”
She leans in closer, lowering her voice. “I’m currently guarding everything while they get food. But look at this.”
She turns the camera around, zooming in aggressively across the food court toward the line for Panda Express.
Steve is standing there, holding a tray, nodding politely at a petite woman with a bob cut who is chatting animatedly with him.
“That is Karen from Dad’s office,” Jasmine whispers. “I’m preeetty sure they are just chatting about whatever. But look at Uncle Eddie.”
The camera shifts slightly. Eddie is standing glued to Steve’s side. He has one hand wrapped loosely but possessively around Steve’s bicep, his chin practically resting on Steve’s shoulder as he stares at Karen with a tight, polite smile.
“He liiterally gave up on ordering his pizza just to plant himself there and hold his arm,” Jasmine narrates, her voice breathless. “I swear... if they aren't together, this is the weirdest thing in the world!”
“Still haven’t given up, Jaz? And in public?”
A male voice speaks right next to the microphone.
The video jolts violently, pointing at the ceiling tiles for a second as Jasmine gasps, before crashing down sideways onto the table, filming a blurry view of a napkin holder.
“Jesus!” Jasmine yelps, righting the camera and whipping it around.
Jude is standing there, hands in the pockets of his hoodie, looking unimpressed.
“Are you stalking me, Byers?” Jasmine accuses, zooming in on his face.
“Uhh, you’re the one stalking them, aren't you?” Jude counters, raising an eyebrow behind his sunglasses.
“Whatever,” Jasmine scoffs. “Wait, why are you here? It’s Tuesday. Isn’t this your karate day or something?”
Jude stiffens. He looks away from the lens. “Yeah. I would have karate. But Sensei had to reschedule. Because…” He pauses, scratching the back of his neck. “Because of a… gas leak. At the dojo. Everything is very dangerous.”
The camera zooms in on his shifty expression. “A gas leak?” Jasmine repeats skeptically. “Okay…”
“Yeah, so take that thing out of my face,” Jude grumbles, reaching out to push the lens away gently. “I just came to grab a smoothie, but... Seriously, Jaz, recording people in public is kinda—”
“Chill, Jude,” Jasmine interrupts, pulling the camera back slightly. “It’s just them. I’m not recording everyone or anything like that. Just my subjects….”
“It doesn’t matter,” Jude insists, his eyes darting around the food court nervously behind his sunglasses. “It’s not safe at all to do this…”
“What isn’t safe?”
The camera pans up sharply. Steve appears at the table, sliding a heavy red tray full of food onto the surface. He looks between Jude and Jasmine, eyebrows furrowed in concern.
Jude freezes. He looks at Steve, then at the camera, then back at Steve.
“Uhh…” Jude stammers. “Camera thieves. Yeah. There’s a… lot. Of camera thieves. Around the area. Targeting… vintage equipment.”
Steve looks around the brightly lit, very safe-looking mall, looking skeptical. “In here? Really?”
“Oh, yeah,” Jasmine says. “Super dangerous these days, Dad. Because it’s a huge trend.”
“Right…” Steve says slowly. Then he smiles. “Well, good thing you have Jude here looking out for you.”
“Yeah,” Jude mumbles. “Always, uh… looking out.”
Eddie appears next to Steve, carrying three large sodas.
“Byers!” Eddie greets warmly, putting the drinks down to pull Jude into a rough, playful side-hug. “What are you doing here, kiddo? Escaping the chaotic house with Nance and John back?”
“Something like that,” Jude mumbles, looking trapped in the hug but patting Eddie’s back awkwardly.
“You hungry?” Steve asks, gesturing to the mountain of food. “We got way too much chow mein. Sit down, eat with us.”
“Yeah, sit down,” Eddie insists, kicking a chair out with his foot. “I’ll steal you a fork.”
“No! No, I can’t,” Jude says, panic flashing in his eyes. “I gotta go. I have to… pick up Iris. From the studio.”
“Wait,” Jasmine says. “Iris texted me ten minutes ago. She said she was staying late at the studio to help paint the set. She’s not done for another two hours.”
Jude freezes.
“Uhh…” Jude stammers, his face turning pink. “Yeah. I know. I’m… going early. To… watch and be a nice brother, I kinda owe her.” He points finger guns at them, walking backward rapidly. “So, yeah. Offer is great, but gotta run. Bye guys!”
“Okay…” Steve says slowly, watching him go. “See ya, Jude. Drive safe.”
“Bye, kid!” Eddie calls out, looking amused.
The camera whips back to the table. Steve is busy mixing his noodles, looking completely unbothered by his nephew’s erratic behavior.
“He is acting so weird today,” Jasmine mutters.
Steve just shrugs one shoulder, chewing thoughtfully for a second before gesturing vaguely with his fork, totally unconcerned.
“Ehh,” Steve says around the food, dismissive. “That’s normal for his age. You know, Eddie was weird every day in high school.”
From off-screen, a hand—Eddie's—enters the frame and slaps Steve’s arm.
“Hey!” Eddie protests. “I was mysterious!”
The video cuts to black.
Now, camera is pointed up from Jasmine’s lap. The view is mostly the car’s dashboard and the lower part of the windshield, which reflects the concrete ceiling of a parking garage. The sound of shopping bags rustling is close and loud.
Outside the car, the muffled voices of Steve and Eddie can be heard, followed by the sound of bags being set down.
“I could carry that, you know,” Steve’s voice says, slightly strained.
“Harrington, I didn’t ask,” Eddie’s voice replies, amused and a little breathless.
A solid, echoing thump signals the car trunk slamming shut.
“See you later?” Steve asks, his voice closer.
There’s a brief pause. “Can’t tonight,” Eddie says, sounding genuinely regretful. “I have that thing with Chris I told you about, and that meeting with the producers is still on. But… tomorrow is good?”
“Yeah,” Steve says, maybe a little too quickly. “Of course. Of course, tomorrow’s good. So… yeah, good to see you. Bye!”
“You too. See ya,” Eddie says. His voice gets much clearer. “Bye, Jaz!”
“Byeee!” Jasmine’s voice chirps. “Thank you again!”
The audio picks up the soft mwah, mwah of air kisses. A moment later, the driver’s side door opens and closes, the car dipping slightly as someone gets in. A soft sigh is audible.
“Want tacos tonight?” Steve’s voice asks, clear and close now.
“Sure!” Jasmine answers. “Can we do it around eight? Mom’s supposed to call me.”
“Sure,” Steve replies easily.
The video holds on the static view of the dashboard for a few more seconds before cutting out.
