I'm teaming up with @ro15in as an artist and @steddieasitgoes as a beta for this year's @steddiebbang. I'm so excited, you have no idea. I wish I could tell you everything right now, but I have to go. Eddie is late walking his neighbor's dog again and Jeff is hovering over my cubicle and telling me to stop reading fanfiction and emailing during working hours. Rude.
We should grab lunch with Robin any day, apparently Steve is up to new shenanigans.
Kisses!
Shell
P.S.: can you please let Heather use your printer? She already asked to use mine three times today, I can't get any work done. Not that I actually want to work, but you get it.
Summary, snippet and moodboard under the cut! 💌
Summary:
Steve Harrington should stop being so nice. Or maybe he should just change his contact info to protect himself from old college friends bringing up debts he made years ago. If he had done that, he wouldn't be in such a mess, but he also wouldn't have met the most charming, hilarious, hot (and perfect for him) resident of New York City, aka Eddie Munson. The worst (or maybe best?) part is that Eddie seems to be into him and they fit great together. It would be perfect if Steve hadn't met him while pretending he is Tommy Hagan. Or if he knew how to tell him the truth without making an ass of himself.
Eddie Munson thought his comatose neighbor's big ass dog was a huge problem, but that was onl until he met Mrs. Hagan's nephew Tommy (or Steve. Who has a fucking name for a nickname? Tommy Hagan apparently). Steve just moved next door to take care of the pets, which would be fine if he wasn't the nicest, hottest, most charming motherfucker who ever crossed Eddie's life. And if Eddie didn't have so many trust issues. Steve seems too good to be true, so there's gotta be something wrong there. But what is it?
Yes. To my absolute dismay, he did. Robin, I'm so fucked. I don't think I have ever met someone so charming.
Eddie, that's his name, "oh man, just call me Eddie", he said. That's how everybody calls him since childhood, apparently. His apartment looks insane, by the way. He has so many band posters and paintings and framed pictures, it's like he lives in one of those hip bars–in a single dude way, of course, but a lot more organized that my apartment would be if I had that much stuff. Seriously, he has stuff everywhere: books, shelves full of trinkets and action figures, guitars hung on the wall, boxes of vinyls and VHS tapes. Who still keeps their VHS tapes??? And so many mugs. I think I counted twenty. He lives by himself!
But well, he told me about Tommy's aunt Doris, showed me the way he found her, showed me the pets. I'm gonna kill Hagan for not telling me the woman has a fucking Great Dane. At this point I think I should just kill Hagan and get rid of this debt I have with him, to be honest.
What do I do, Robin? I'm standing there at this insane apartment, listening to this handsome guy talk about how he likes Doris, how she's such a kind person and how he hates to ask me to drop my humanitarian work in Ethiopia just to do this, but his job performance is getting compromised and he's very sorry. So okay, I nod, I pretend I'm Tommy (whos in Bali, not in Ethiopia by the way), I tell him I'm moving in because aunt Doris's pets need someone regularly. I can tell they do. I know what you're gonna say, Robin, but those pets need me. Angel, the dog, needs to go out three times a day! And Mr. Doodles and Muffin, the cats, seem so lonely. You'd do the same if you saw the looks on their faces, I know you would.
@steddiebbang 2026 project announcement | team #038
artist: @psychotic-nonsense | beta: @midwestharpy
SUPER excited (and terrified) to announce my first ever steddie big bang project! can't believe how lucky i am to have such a BRILLIANT artist and beta reader to work with on this!!! thank you for loving s2 aus with me <3
details:
rating: M
wc: 25k~
cw: graphic violence; detailed explorations of trauma; substance abuse
tags: S2 AU; canon divergence; eddie joins the party in S2; not-quite-enemies to lovers; angst/comfort; past trauma; past child neglect and abuse; canon typical violence; discussions of foster care; miscommunication; awkward flirting; happy ending
summary:
The funny thing about wearing a mask for so long is that eventually you almost forget you’re wearing it.
Steve Harrington has spent his entire life trying to be someone that people love. That people want to be around. That people want to stay for. He’s spent so long carefully crafting this persona that he’s not even sure who he is without it anymore.
Eddie Munson has spent his entire life just trying to survive. The best way he’s learned to do that is by not letting anyone get too close. By giving everyone some overly dramatized version of himself. Because everyone who’s ever gotten close to who he really is has either left or been ripped away.
One blurry night together bleeds into the jagged edges of the Upside Down returning. As the two of them fight off yet another wave of otherworldly forces while protecting some rather death-wish hungry barely-teenagers, their own demons suddenly demand to be confronted, leaving Steve and Eddie unable to keep hiding – from themselves and each other.
lil preview below the cut!
excerpt:
And for some reason Steve does not fucking understand.
For some reason he will continue to question for long after this.
For some reason he still won’t have an answer to years from now when they’re well and truly past this.
For some reason, Steve puts himself between Eddie and everyone else, says a quick “You might want to run” over his shoulder as he pushes Eddie toward the door with one hand, the other –
Well, in the span of approximately 1.7 seconds, Steve smiles, flips Tommy the bird, and kicks the leg out from the makeshift bar table.
The folding table holding a smattering of drinks.
The folding table holding the absolutely massive punch bowl.
Just in time for Tommy to collide with it.
And crash to the floor.
“Holy fucking shit.” Eddie laughs, hot on Steve’s ear.
Steve laughs too, actually, kind of shocking himself as he watches the punch bowl shatter – watches the greenish-red liquid spray everywhere. The fake eyes and dismembered candy fingers scattering across the floor. The partygoers shrieking as they’re coated in punch.
Tommy falls across the table as it collapses, getting completely drenched in punch and glass, the punch bowl half-beneath him as it crumbles.
Jason is hot on his heels, stumbling and falling on top of Tommy, the pair of them groaning in tandem.
“Oh–” Steve is laughing hard now.
Laughing as he watches Jason and Tommy writhe on the floor, helplessly trying to wipe the punch and glass from their…well, their everywhere, really.
Turns out glass likes to stick in things.
“Holy fucking shit.” Eddie whisper-laughs behind him again, a sentiment Steve wholly agrees with, except –
“Run, man, seriously.” Steve’s eyes are wide as he pushes Eddie a half-step towards the door, even as the laughter is still coursing through him, making him feel more alive than he has in who fucking knows how long.
“You’re fuckin’ dead.”
Which comes from a voice Steve has grown to loathe in a few short months.
Billy goddamn Hargrove.
Steve turns, watches Billy stop on the other side of the table catastrophe. People are still screaming and laughing and running around – mostly, they’re running away from whatever the fuck is happening. Forming a perimeter around the spectacle, circling them like they’re in a fucking ring about to face off.
“Running. Running now.” Eddie says, which, yeah – Steve told him to, so why the fuck is he still here?
“Dude, go.” Steve half-whispers over his shoulder, still trying to push Eddie toward the door. But, Eddie is more of a solid pillar than he would’ve imagined.
“Uh, yeah.” Eddie says with all the sarcastic merit of a 5th grader. “Let’s.”
“Wh–”
“Jesus.” Eddie’s hand wraps hard around Steve’s bicep, full-bodily yanking him back toward the patio door.
Billy is honest-to-god actually growling at them, mouth open, like, teeth bared and shit, fists clenched at his sides as he stalks across broken glass and spilled punch, when Steve…
Well.
Steve holds up a finger, somehow actually making Billy stop a foot away, surprise etched on his face. Then, Steve grabs a half-empty cup left forgotten on a shelf by the door.
“Sorry, did you want some?” Steve asks before taking a sip. “How rude of me. Here.”
Then, in some feat of King Steve of days past, he takes a big mouthful, pulls down his sunglasses just enough and winks at Billy, before spitting the drink all over Billy. “Enjoy.” Steve croons as he throws the rest of the cup at Billy and blows him a fucking kiss.
Steve laughs hard as he turns and tumbles through the patio doors and out into a run across the yard with Eddie motherfucking Munson still holding onto him.
2026 steddie bang project reveal time! so, so, so excited to work with @mslead and FINALLY write some vampire lore into my steddie portfolio! it only took (checks calendar) four years. that doesn't feel real. anyways! posting begins in october!
details:
rating: explicit
estimated word count: 10,000-15,000
relationships: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington & Robin Buckley
characters: Robin Buckley, Nancy Wheeler, Jonathan Byers, The Party
tags: Canon-Divergent Post-S4, Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson Were In A Secret Relationship, Vampires, Second Chances, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Angst With A Happy Ending, Getting Together, Smut, Temporary Depictions of Grief, Temporary Main Character Death, Canon-Typical Gore
summary:
It was supposed to be simple.
Cause a distraction. Light the son of a bitch up. Get out.
A simple, three-step plan, and if there was to be any carnage, it was supposed to be him. Steve was decided the second he walked away from Eddie and Dustin, positive that he was going in the right direction, away from he Gate and towards Vecna. If there was room in the plan for it to go to shit, it’s in the face-off against Vecna. Surely, that’s where the real danger lived.
Steve decided when he walked away from Eddie and Dustin that if someone needed to die to end this once and for all, it’d be him. Part of him had known for years, really, known that he could only get so lucky so many times. If he had to die to save the kids, to save his best friends, to save the world? Well, fuck it.
Eddie wasn’t supposed to die.
Max wasn’t supposed to be in a coma.
He wasn’t supposed to be alive.
And yet there Steve sits, stuck in a hospital room nursing skin grafts and who knows what else, very much alive.
excerpt:
Stars flicker in and out behind passing clouds, winking at them like someone who knows all of their secrets. Eddie supposes that they do these days. The night has heard their whispers and their confessions, an altar of sorts upon which Eddie feels laid bare. Steve shivers behind him, with Eddie’s back to his chest and Steve’s back against the tree.
Eddie wants to turn, to hug him warm again, but he can’t anymore. The flush of Steve’s blood coursing through him only lasts for so long.
“Wanna go inside? You’re cold,” Eddie whispers, his voice still foreign to his heightened hearing.
“I’m fine, I like it out here.” Steve squeezes Eddie tighter around his middle despite the lack of give. “A little chill never hurt anyone.”
Eddie sighs— a habit more than a necessity— and closes his eyes as he leans back into the embrace. He’s still shaken by their talk, by the idea of outliving Steve again. It feels obvious now, but Eddie has been so wrapped in the fact that he’d been spit back out by the Upside Down that he hasn’t thought to consider his own lack of mortality. Or how willing Steve is to give his up.
Once upon a time, he’d thought the only real monster was forced conformity. Those days were so simple, so cut and dry. Eddie sits with the boy who he loves more than life and has to ask himself whether or not his still heart and useless lungs make him a monster. Does wanting Steve for eternity make him selfish? Does acquiescing to Steve’s requests that he feed from him make him greedy? Is being loved by someone without a beating heart dangerous?
Love is sacrifice though, isn’t it?
Eddie knows that with an ache where his heart no longer beats. His mother sacrificed for him, Wayne sacrificed for him, and now, as Steve shivers and recovers from Eddie’s bites, gently pressed into his thigh to keep their bloody little secret, he realizes that he, too, has sacrificed for him.
When is it enough?
Eddie looks down at his feet, unblinking. His new Reeboks look exactly like his old ones, white but earning a fresh layer of dinge.
We're excited to bring you another round of the Steddie Bang this year. Please find the schedule below and keep an eye on our socials (steddiebbang here on tumblr, on twitter, and on bsky).
If you would like to be emailed with sign up reminders, please enter your email here.
@steddiebbang 2026 project announcement - team #004
Artist: @wolvesbane-butstranger
Beta: @sidekick-hero
🌊🌊🌊
With his musician dreams on the rocks, a penniless Eddie finds himself taking on work in the most unlikely of places - on board a superyacht.
He expects the captain to be a stuck up, arrogant asshole. Steve Harrington turns out to be many things - haunted, withdrawn, but perhaps the kindest man Eddie has ever met.
What he doesn't expect is for that captain to change the course of his entire life.
🌊🌊🌊
Snippet:
He's shirtless. Dozing in the morning light, eyes closed. Skin gold and radiant in the sun, spattered with moles. His waist lean, his shoulders broad, his chest covered in a layer of hair.
Against the railing, Eddie's hand squeezes. Hard.
There's only one person on board that he hasn't met yet.
Which means this man, the most attractive man Eddie has ever seen, the man that's got him frozen and sweating and listening to his own heartbeat thud in his ears, is his captain.
Steve.
Dumbly, he takes a few steps towards him.
And promptly kicks over the tray of dishes he'd deposited by his feet.
Glass clunks and something shatters, and Eddie curses, dropping to his knees and trying to brush it up. What a fucking great first impression, he curses in his head. That glass was probably worth more than a month's salary, you fucking idiot.
There's footsteps. Eddie feels a bead of sweat roll down the back of his neck. Great, he's probably coming over here to yell, to tell me I'm fired on day fucking two of this job, to tell me I'm a useless -
"Hey, careful, don't cut yourself on that."
Oh, his voice is soft.
Eddie pauses in his efforts to sweep up the glass in his hands. Swallows thickly, then looks up.
Fuck.
Close up, Steve is even hotter than Eddie had first thought.
Honey-brown eyes, thick tousled hair, jaw square and strong and - and he's squatting down in front of him, gently batting Eddie's hands away from the glass with his much larger ones. "This shit is sharp, we should get some gloves or something."
"Sorry," Eddie splutters. "I kicked it, sort of…forgot I put it there, I was looking at - at the view, at…" He flaps a hand towards the sea. "You can take it out of my wages to replace it, or whatever -"
Steve shakes his head. "No, that's ok. Don't worry, it was just an accident. You're Eddie, right? I'm sorry, I should've come and found you and introduced myself, I figured I'd let you settle in a little first. I'm Steve. Steve Harrington."
A little shakily, Eddie takes the hand offered to him.
It's warm, grip firm but gentle.
"Um….hi," Eddie croaks, kicks himself internally, remembers to snap his mouth closed again.
"Hi," Steve says with a soft chuckle.
Unbidden, Eddie's eyes flick to his.
Steve's eyes are kind, but despite the small smile tugging on his lips, Eddie can see the sadness there.
The captain lets go of his hand and pushes himself to his feet again. "There, think that's most of it. I'll get Lucas to bring the broom up here and make sure there's nothing left. I'll see you around, Eddie." With that, he turns back to the net at the bow, walking away from Eddie.
Eddie's only a man, and apparently a very weak one when it comes to Steve. He can't help but stare at the captain's ass as he walks away - it's not his fault it's hugged so well by his little blue shorts.
Steve's gait is slightly uneven, he notices. A little hitch in his step, like his right leg doesn't quite want to cooperate.
Finally, he drags his attention away. Grabs the rest of the dishes and makes a swift, ungraceful exit from the deck back into the stairwell.
Incredibly excited to reveal my project for my first ever @steddiebbang
Slaying Dragons in the Dark is a hurt/comfort fix-it fic that follows Steve and Eddie as they hide away and heal in House Harrington after the events of Season 4. It's part fix-it fic, part "make these characters confront their trauma" fic, and I'm very excited to get to talk about it now!
Also so happy to have @staymagical as my wonderful artist this year. Those book binds? Divine. I also have @spectrum-spectre as my magnificent beta.
Want a preview? Check out my summary and a snippet below:
Eddie Munson died. Heart stopped, bled crimson on the ashen ground of the Upside Down until he was ripped through the bony fingers of the Reaper, gasping for breath and writhing in pain. These new friends, new acquaintances, had adopted him as one of their own, and they refused to let him go gently into that good night. But when wounds get patched, and reunions occur, how do you move on when that same hell is still threatening to burst forth around you? When nightmares of teeth and tails and terror still haunt your sleep? When half of the town thinks you're Satan himself and most of them think you're dead? When the terror whose minions you died to and who your allies failed to kill is still lurking in the dark, growing stronger every day? When you are healing alongside a man that, quite literally, snatched you from death's clutches, dragged you out of hell, and made you the best damn cup of coffee you've ever had?
1986 may not be the year Eddie graduates, but it's sure as hell going to be the year he stops running, the year he grows, the year he survives. If not for himself, then for others. Because he has a whole new network of support, and they're hauling him kicking and screaming, hiding him away in the Harrington house as he heals from wounds both physical and mental. Maybe, in the middle of all this madness, he can find time to heal his heart, too. Or maybe, he just goes insane looking at the same handful of boring rooms every day with only Steve Harrington for regular company.
"You…you're all…you," Eddie starts, sad, wet eyes glancing up at him, head still drooped, "And I…I can't even sleep without being scared. How are you not scared?"
Steve stilled for a moment, brow furrowing in thought as he contemplated Eddie's question.
"I'm not scared," Steve started, Eddie huffing out a bitter laugh before Steve continued, "I'm fucking terrified."
At Steve's admission, Eddie lifted his eyes to meet Steve's, searching for an answer in his green-brown hazel eyes, "Every time, I think it's going to be over finally, and it keeps coming back. And at this point, I feel like Penhurst would have a field day with my brain."
Eddie grinned at his admission, lopsided where the gauze and tape limited movement, before it fell from his face, looking at Steve with such sadness, "Each time it's more of the same, but also each time it's different. It always builds and builds, and you'll have some weird fucking fears."
Eddie tilts his head in confusion, brows knitting together, "You aren't doing much to reassure me there, Harrington."
"You know the Byers can't put lights on their Christmas tree anymore?" Steve asked Eddie, who shook his head no before Steve continued, "Joyce…she used them to communicate with Will when he was in the Upside Down the first year, back in '83—had 'em all over her house. I saw it when Nancy and Jonathan set a trap for one of those monsters, kids call it a demogorgon. She had some ouiji board type shit on the wall with the alphabet, and strings of lights all along the ceilings."
Steve let out a shaky breath before continuing, "They…the lights flicker when those things are nearby. When Nancy pulled a gun on me to chase me off from the Byers' house…I was standing at my open car door, about to haul ass out of there. When I looked back…it was like a strobe light was going off. I could hear Nancy and Jonathan yelling, and some awful sound. I was fucking terrified. But I couldn't…knew I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I had just left them, you know?"
Eddie flinched at that, looking away, "Yeah, well, I did run, Harrington. After Chrissy…I fucking ran."
"The thing is…I did too," Steve rasped, voice dripping with disdain for himself, "Before Nancy could scare me off by pointing that gun at me, that thing…it dropped out of the ceiling and cornered us in Jonathan's bedroom. When it disappeared, Nancy yelled at me to leave again, telling me it was going to come back, and I fucking ran."
Steve looked up, eyes focused and piercing as he met Eddie's gaze, "Yeah, we both ran. But think about what you saw, what I saw? That's some horror movie bullshit that neither of us prepared for, that neither of us could do anything about. But after that, neither of us ran."
Eddie scoffed at that, drawing an annoyed glare from Steve, "No, you don't get to downplay yourself like that, Munson. You could have stayed in that boat when the vines dragged me through the portal, but you jumped in after us."
"Yeah, cause I was too scared to stay there alone," Eddie spat, voice filled with self-loathing.
"And when you went through the gate? Saw those bats eating me alive. You didn't run. You fought them off, alongside Robin and Nancy, with a fucking oar. And you saw what they did to me, how terrifying that place was. And when we planned to go right back in there to fight the thing that killed Chrissy, Fred, and Patrick? You were the second one through that portal."
Steve looked to Eddie, who was staring a hole through a spot on the comforter, chewing the nail on his thumb. Steve leaned into his vision, hand going to Eddie's shoulder to push him back gently, forcing him to make eye contact.
"You saved Dustin, man," Steve asserted, admiration and appreciation clear in his voice. "He told me what happened, how the bats came through the vents. They would have poured through that portal, gotten both of you. It would have blocked the rest of us from getting out. So yeah, I guess if you're being technical, you ran then. But not because of fear, but purpose."
exciting times in my house in 2026 - I am taking on the challenge of my first ever big bang, @steddiebbang, with the most incredible team; the amazing, awesome, fantastic @cosmic-v0rtex as my beta, and the unbelievably talented and brilliant @sheepsicles as my artist.
the important stuff: 55k, post-canon, Eddie is alive but has no memories, slow burn, getting together, besties endlessly side-eying each other's karaoke choices, Wayne and Steve father-son-isms
summary:
It’s a day like any other, for Steve. A day like any other, where Robin and the kids are off at college, a day like any other where Steve isn’t sure who he is without monsters to hit and kids to babysit. A day that is entirely absent of strange things, and strange happenings.
Except… Steve walks into a record store in Indianapolis on this day like any other, and the strangest thing to happen to him in a good long while happens, because suddenly he’s face to face with Eddie Munson – a somehow very alive Eddie, who bears the scars but has no memories of Hawkins, or the Upside Down, or any of the people he knew back home.
There is still an inexplicable pull between them, a quiet curiosity Steve had first felt in ‘86 that’s still there, but armed with the smoking gun of knowing things about Eddie that Eddie doesn’t know about himself, Steve has to decide what he should and shouldn’t tell him – because Eddie doesn’t remember anything… right?
excerpt:
There’s a bell on the door of Radical Records that chimes merrily as Steve steps through, but a first cursory glance doesn’t reveal any staff, or even any other customers. He supposes it’s that weird, liminal time of early Saturday afternoons – close enough to lunch that people are still recovering from the meal, and far enough away from evening that they’ve not yet started to emerge for a night out. He pockets his tape and rubs his hands together, trying to get some warmth back into them – it’s already freezing outside and it’s only mid-October, but inside the shop the air is warm and smells faintly of coconut.
Steve can’t see the person who is presumably the clerk on duty, but he can hear him, somewhere in the stacks singing along to Bad Company’s Bad Company, which is currently playing overhead, like he doesn’t know anyone is in the store and listening. It wouldn’t matter anyway – the guy has a great voice, and Steve starts perusing, rather enjoying the performance.
He drifts to the display at the top of the aisle, front and centre near the register, and picks up Mötley Crüe’s new album, Dr. Feelgood – he’s heard good things about it – and turns it over to look at the track listing. Faintly, off to his side, he registers movement and footsteps, and a vaguely familiar man’s voice says; “That’s a good record – you want me to grab you a plastic-wrapped one from the back?” and Steve glances up to locate the speaker.
And then it happens.
The strangest thing to happen in a good long while.
Eddie.
It hits Steve like a gut punch – and as a man who has taken more than his fair share of punches, this feels exactly like that. It’s unmistakably Eddie; dark brown waves of hair to his shoulders, the lush mouth, the big sloe-brown eyes that traverse Steve’s face curiously, and rings that gleam as he points to the record in Steve’s hand and asks another question that doesn’t even permeate the crisis Steve is having. There’s a whorl of scarring that climbs the left side of Eddie’s neck, one silvery line just creeping over the edge of his jaw. That seems like proof alone that it’s really Eddie – because Steve has matching scars; on his torso, and the thin line around his neck from the bat that had tried to garrotte him.
The air has been knocked clean out of him, and he feels his own throat working up and down silently, and Eddie’s eyebrow arches when Steve sucks in a harsh breath through his teeth, when he tries to force the air back into his lungs, because he thought–
Well, he had thought nothing could surprise him anymore.
“Huh?” he manages to force out, because he’s pretty sure that Eddie has repeated something about three times now and is starting to look at him with concern, and a wariness like he might be about to have some kind of medical episode, or is just a bit crazy. Maybe he is about to have a medical episode, because he fucking feels like he’s about to have a heart attack. Steve presses down on a mildly hysterical bubble of laughter, shoving it down deep, because he definitely already seems crazy and he’s got to keep it together because Eddie is looking nowhere near as shell-shocked to see Steve, as Steve is him.
“I said, that’s a good record dude – you want me to grab you a brand new wrapped one from the back?” Eddie’s brow is still high, like he’s wholly unsure about Steve and his potentially fragile mental state. He runs his gaze over the planes and angles of Steve’s face again, a little furrow of confusion appearing, and Steve feels every part of that stare like a physical weight on his skin.
Eddie is alive.
“Eddie,” he chokes out, not hearing the question. “Eds.”
He takes a step forward, but Eddie’s hands rise, palms outwards, and his look of confusion deepens.
“You must have me mistaken for someone else, man,” Eddie says, with a nervous kind of chuckle and half a step backwards. He taps the badge at his chest, over his heart, the one that reads James.
Steve does laugh at that, because of course Eddie would somehow survive being left for dead in a fucking hellscape and use it as fodder to fuck with Steve, just a little. He definitely deserves it, and hot, acrid guilt crawls up his throat, but he shoves it down to deal with later. “Come on dude, don’t mess around with me, yeah?”
But Eddie just frowns and takes another small step back, and Steve searches his face, searches for something, because there’s– there’s no recognition in Eddie’s expression. He’s looking at Steve like he’s a slightly mental stranger, like they didn’t steal an RV together, like Eddie didn’t dive into a lake and through a goddamn snack-sized mouth of hell to fight bats with him, like they didn’t have a fucking heart-to-heart in the rotting underside of Hawkins, like Steve didn’t lose him. Eddie rubs at the left side of his jawbone absently, where his scar just creeps over the curve, and he’s still looking at Steve with confusion tugging at his mouth, and he doesn’t remember.
Steve exhales and deflates, like air escaping a balloon. His throat feels inexplicably tight.
SO excited to announced my project, Project #071, for @steddiebbang, Love on the Menu!!!
Looking forrward to working with my lovely artist @thotpuppy and beta @sereinpetrichor
If you like unlikely roommates to friends to lovers, food as a love language, and classic rom-com tropes, this fic might be for you <3
Summary below the cut:
Things are finally looking up for Steve. Vecna is gone, Hawkins is free from the machinations of the Upside Down, and Steve has gotten accepted to the University of Chicago. Nothing could derail his new beginning.
Until Robin suggests that he ask Eddie Munson to be his roommate.
Eddie, who snores like a subwoofer.
Eddie, who leaves his dirty socks hither and yon across the apartment.
Eddie, who is apparently a culinary genius and likes to remind Steve of all the ways in which his cooking skills are inadequate.
But ... maybe Eddie can teach him a few things. Maybe they could even become friends ... or maybe something more?
