#steddie nation

[foxprism]

make my house a home

[strangersatellites]

It had all started in Photography 101. 

All he had needed was one more elective added to his schedule for the fall semester to be considered a full-time student. It was Robin who had suggested photography.

Steve had never had that great of a memory to begin with, the numerous blows to the head from juvenile high school fights certainly doing him no favors. Sometimes the amount of time it took to jog Steve’s memory surpassed the time it would’ve taken to simply tell him the story as if he hadn’t been there himself. 

He was always able to grasp the memory eventually, but sometimes they were slippery in his mind. 

He and Robin had found that his memory was ten times better if he had something to look at. Sometimes that was a souvenir from a trip, sometimes it was a takeout menu with his order circled in red pen, sometimes it was a physical scar on his skin from some silly injury. But most of the time it was pictures. 

Steve took to taking photos of everything. His friends, his food, the landscape, a book with a pretty cover, anything he wanted to be able to remember.

The walls of his room grew to be covered with polaroids and prints, some staged, most not. Many blurry and out of focus, but in the moment just the same. 

So when Robin suggested Photography 101, Steve saw an opportunity to take something he did for his own benefit and turn it into something he really enjoyed, something he was good at. 

The semester was a breeze and Steve flourished under the attention of his professor. He was constantly drowning in compliments about the movement in his photos and his eye for composition. 

(Robin would tell him on several occasions that she had never seen him enjoy something this much.)

By the time the semester was coming to a close, he was left with one final project. The professor had been intentionally very vague in her description of it throughout the semester, so Steve was a little on edge. 

Sitting in the front row of the small classroom, he twirled the strap of his camera around his fingers while he daydreamed. The room slowly filled and the professor settled in behind her desk. 

About five minutes after class was supposed to have begun Steve noticed they were all still sitting in silence. Glancing at the professor he saw her brows furrow and a frustrated lilt to her lips as she looked at her watch.

What are we waiting for? 

She stood and dusted off her pants before clapping her hands together.

“Well,” she began, “I guess we can go ahead and get start–”

The door at the back of the room swung open and knocked against the wall with a resounding slam.

“Shit! Fuck! So sorry I’m late. Traffic was a bitch.”

Steve is so caught off guard by the man who just burst into the room that he barely even registers the words he’s saying. 

He’is tall and all lanky muscle, dark curls and jewelry, tattoos and the smell of smoke, chains and leather and everything Steve’s not. Everything nobody in this class is.

He’s even more caught off guard when his professor laughs and pulls the man into a tight hug. There are only five other students in this class, surely he’s not the only person confused.

He keeps an arm around her shoulders as she introduces him to the group.

“Guys, this is Eddie. He’s a family friend and he’s going to be your subject for your final project.”

Steve’s own eyebrows furrow as he tries to understand how this was the project she has been keeping under wraps. They’ve had plenty of portrait sessions this semester, with models and subjects of their choice alike.

The guy, Eddie, claps a hand to his chest in a dramatic show of faux humility. 

“Thank you for having me, Joyce. It's such an honor to be here.”

She smacks at his arm and carries on.

“So, Eddie is your subject and you have no parameters. The only requirement is that he is the inspiration for your shoot. This can look like a standard portrait session, this can be contemporary urban street photography, whatever you like. Eddie does not even have to be in the photo! He just has to be the inspiration for it.”

Steve's brain is already running a mile a minute, conceptualizing shots faster than he can keep up. 

Dingy bars, backseats of cars, details of his eclectic style.

But one idea sticks out from the rest. As Steve lifts his eyes to Eddie once more and meets his own twinkling with mirth and smirking back at him he makes his decision.

He’s going to take his mugshot.

*****

“I want to take your mugshot.”

They’re at the campus coffee shop. Joyce had scheduled a few hours for Eddie to meet with the other students during their class time so they could talk through their projects.

Eddie barks out a laugh. “What, man?”

Steve twirls his straw around his drink and tries not to bristle at the reaction.

“Look,” he starts, running a nervous hand through his hair, “I don’t really know where the idea originated but once I had it, it stuck. I just saw this vision of the shot in my head and it was sick, dude.”

Eddie leans back in the booth, one of his boots knocking into Steve’s foot under the table. He crosses his arms and tilts his head. 

“Thought this shoot was supposed to be inspired by moi,” he says, gesturing a hand towards himself. “You saying I look like I should be in jail?”

Steve groans and puts his head in his hands. “No. I already told you I don't know where i got the idea–”

But that’s a lie isn’t it. He knows exactly where he got the idea. It was somewhere between the chains dangling from Eddie’s jeans and the handcuff belt he was wearing the day they met.

He put his hands together on the table between them. “Okay. No, I’m not saying you look like a criminal, Eddie. I’m saying I think you want to look like one.”

Eddie blinks at him for a moment before his face breaks into a slow smirk. He huffs a quiet laugh and leans closer. “Guilty as charged, Stevie. Besides, I was arrested once actually.”

Steve gawks while Eddie laughs. He is unfairly attractive when his dimples pop and Steve is going to have such a hard time holding it together behind the camera. 

*****

Steve takes his shoots very seriously. Every detail has to be perfect, even the ones not relating to the subject of the photo.

So it is wildly convenient that his professor happens to be married to the chief of police back in Hawkins. 

One quick phone call from Joyce and Steve and Eddie were granted access to the booking room at the police station. You know, for the sake of realism. 

Steve’s setting up his tripod while Eddie takes a chalk marker to the placard and writes up his own booking ID, a long series of random numbers with E.M at the end. 

Steve would be lying if he said Eddie’s choice of clothing wasn’t exactly what he’d had in mind. 

He’s wearing a ratty, old band t-shirt for some group Steve’s never heard of. There’s his usual black leather jacket and the silver chain around his neck. His ripped black jeans and fingers covered in rings and black nail polish. 

It's perfect for the shoot. But Steve’s sanity is struggling.

He gets the camera and the lighting set up just as Eddie steps into place in front of the height measurement wall. 

Steve puts his hands on his hips and gives instructions.

“Okay, so I know you’ve done this before–”

“Hey! It was one time!”

“So you know how this goes. We’ll do one forward and then one to each side.”

Eddie shakes out his hair and rolls his shoulders back. He holds the placard up in front of him and levels the camera with a dead-eyed stare.

He looks good. 

Steve is less than shocked that he looks even better on camera.

He lines up his shot. Click.

Eddie turns to his left. Steve gets a little distracted by the line of his jaw.

Click.

He turns to the right and of course only now does Steve notice his ear piercings. 

Steve takes a deep breath and focuses.

Click.

Before he can even look through his shots Eddie is dropping the placard on the desk.

He’s halfway out the door before he grabs the frame and leans back in. “One second pretty boy, I have an idea.”

He’s back before Steve snaps out of his stupor at the nickname. This time, he has a pair of handcuffs swinging from his index finger.

Steve snatches them out of his hand. “Where did you get these?”

Eddie crosses his arms over his chest and shrugs. “I know a guy.”

He rolls his eyes. 

He’s already picking up the placard and setting up some detail shots when Eddie grabs his wrist and stops him. He freezes for more than one reason.

“Hey, uh. Not to step on your toes or anything, but I actually have another idea.”

Steve is about to start on his spiel about ‘not messing up his flow’ when Eddie rubs his thumb over the inside of his wrist. Gentle and reassuring. 

“Do you trust me?”

Honestly Steve has no reason to trust him, he’s basically a stranger.

A pretty one. His brain supplies.

But he does. Trusts him enough to let him take Steve’s creative liberties and throw them out the window apparently.

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

Eddie’s smile is blinding. He turns Steve’s hand over and drops the handcuff key into it.

“Don’t lose this big boy,” he says as he snaps the cuffs around each of his own wrists.

Steve laughs, loud and shocked. He waggles his eyebrows at Eddie. 

“Well, now didn’t this take a turn.”

Eddie rolls his eyes this time and lifts his hands as much as he can.

“Don’t try to sexualize my creative prowess, Steve. I am a professional.”

He nearly trips on his way back to his place in front of the wall and Steve has to hide his laugh into a cough.

Steve’s back behind the camera, hands back on his hips when he asks, “Alright, what’s the plan?”

Eddie smiles and says, “You just shoot, Harrington. I’ll do the rest.”

He leans down to finalize his camera settings and line up his shot. When he finally looks through the viewfinder his jaw drops. Because while Eddie was clearly joking about being a professional, if Steve didn’t know any better, this shot would have him believing it.

Eddie’s got both of his pinky fingers tucked in the corners of his smile, tongue bitten between his teeth. His thumbs are raised along with his middle fingers, while he’s got his nose scrunched and one eye squeezed shut. The cuffs hang right under his chin and accentuate his silver jewelry in a way Steve never would have anticipated.

Click.

Click. 

Click.

The next is a close-up of the booking placard between his teeth.

His hands twisting to unlock his own cuffs.

He’s a natural, and Steve’s camera roll can attest to the fact.

It wouldn’t be until Steve was reviewing and editing the shots that he caught on. The booking ID on the placard looked long because it was. It was Eddie’s number.

*****

Steve got an A. 

He got an A, an endless stream of compliments from Joyce and a dorky hot boyfriend. 

The rest of the class went the route Steve expected them to.

Dingy bars, backseats of cars, details of his eclectic style.

But Steve’s mugshot series stood leagues above the rest.

Later in their lives, when one of their friends would see the photo in Steve’s wallet they would ask when Eddie got arrested and why.

It quickly became a game between the two.

He’s been arrested in high school for selling drugs (True.)

When he was twenty for public indecency.

At twenty-two for arson.

Thirty for contract killing. This one was followed up with the claim that he was in witsec and was now going to have to change his identity and flee the country.

But the real when and why Eddie got arrested is because when he was twenty-one Joyce told him there was a nice boy in her class that she thought he should meet.

[itswhatyougive]

I saw some people be like "gweeehhhhhhh Steddie shippers built that whole ship in their minds, it's fanon only, they had no chemistry in the show, they barely had any connection at all "

And it's actually really funny, because I humor them and think, "hmm, was it all in my mind all along?" and rewatch S4.

Then I feel soooooo validated upon rewatching. It actually gets even better and more obvious every time I see it.

[saquesha13]

It’s Steddie September bitches!!!

My mom bought this calendar & this month is the best one yet, i’m never throwing this in the trash.

Steddie nation will never die!

[infinite-orangepeel]

Without realizing, almost like a magnetic pull, his eyes land on Steve.

Steve, who is staring straight back at him with a look Eddie can only describe as a mix of anger and lust. A silent warning.

Eddie feels himself grow hot under Steve’s gaze.

So he does the only thing he can think of—slowly, never once breaking eye contact, he lifts the apple to his mouth, and takes a huge bite. His teeth tear through the red skin, the juice dripping down his chin and wrist. He chews slowly, deliberately, before swallowing the fruit.

Steve’s eyes are heavy-lidded as he stares at Eddie like a man possessed. Eddie’s head reels from the power he holds. Steve Harrington, wrapped around his finger. It gives him a thought. One he should definitely not give into. But Eddie likes to play with fire, always has.

He sets the apple down on the table, his hand now covered in sticky juice. He licks his fingers one by one, pushing them into his mouth in the dirtiest way he can. He imagines getting down on his knees for Steve—the pretty noises he’d make.

Eddie wants him.

Badly.

He knows he’s being unfair, cruel even. But Steve can’t tear his eyes away. So Eddie takes his fingers out of his mouth and smiles, pausing one last time to lick a long stripe up the side of his wrist.

All at once, he sees Steve’s expression change like he’s been punched in the gut. He looks around frantically, like he’s trying to see if anyone noticed their interaction. Nobody even bats an eye. They’re all too absorbed in eating and enjoying their lunch-time conversations. It’s almost like Steve and Eddie slipped into some space between dimensions—a stolen moment in time. Just for them. Or at least that’s what Eddie is thinking.

Steve clearly has other thoughts, as he stands suddenly, snatching his tray from the table. He gives Eddie a withering glare and turns, dumping the entire tray and its contents into the trash.

Eddie feels his stomach turn as Steve runs from the room. He wants desperately to run after him. To take his hand and tell him everything is ok.

But he stays—frozen to his seat, spit drying on his hand, and shame taking root in his body.

EXCERPT FROM: BLUE ON BLUE (linked below)

currently co-writing this with maya (@itssteddietime) & it would mean the world to us if you’d take a second to check out the first two chapters 🩵

taglist (message me to be added or removed at any time <3): @estrellami-1 @disastardly @ilovecupcakesandtea @the-redthread @asbealthgn @bestofbucky @vampireinthesun @carlyv @shrimply-a-menace @lordrrascal @jjoesjonas @malachitedevil @anxiouseds @gay-little-bitch @jhrc666 @pinkdaisies1998 @mcneen @perseus-notjackson @eiddets @corroded-coffin-groupie @three-possums-playing-human @stevesbipanic @plutoshelm @arkenstoned @indiearr @they-reap-what-we-sow @gleek4twd @bunnyweasley23 @livingoutload @a-little-unsteddie @novelnovella @rugbertgoeshome @neverlandwaitingforme @anglhrts @swiss-cheeze @josephmunsonx

[hotwritergf]

hi friends i made a twitter account, pls come say hi it’s lonely and I’m scared!!

[sha3mustd1e]

eddie: it was me, i’m the traitor.

steve, after just learning about internet slang from erica and will: wig

[violetkaos]

Steve “Babygirl” Harrington

[ninivoidz]

13 going on 30 x steddie

Friends to lovers, time travel, Steve/Eddie/Robin friendship, 90's references. Chaptered.

“So,” he started, still with those inquiring eyes, “you woke up today, and the last thing you could remember was your 15th birthday?”

“Yes.”

“And you can’t remember anything else after that?”

Steve nodded.

“And you need my help to remember your life?”

“Exactly,” Steve answered excitedly. Eddie was so smart!

“Can’t do,” Eddie said easily, and Steve frowned.

He was about to answer with a 'thanks' when he understood what Eddie said. “Wh-what? Why not?”

Eddie let out a non-maliciously little laugh, rubbing his fingers on his scruffy chin nervously.

“Cause I don’t know anything about you.” Eddie shrugged like it didn’t mean anything, while– while Steve felt his heart clench awfully.

“What? Of course you know- you’re my best friend, Eds,” Steve whispered with a trembling smile.

“Steve, I haven't seen you since high school, we– we haven't talked to each other in 15 years, at least not on… good terms.”

[emxsh]

rules: post a screencap of your lock screen photo, a screencap of the last/current song listened to, as well as the last photo of a celebrity that you saved in your phone!

@metal-dads i saw you get tagged and i wanted to say hi.

Here we go. Time to get my ass called out for constant brainrot

I don't have friends so.. i dunno who to tag.

[princessdave]

Ok everybody, I’m not seeing nearly enough content of people’s blorbos cosplaying in this outfit. You know just the himbo/himbim/herbo to draw this on, or write a fic about them wearing it. Do it for the good of your fellow humans, our timelines need it.

This is supposed to be the outfit that "protects" Link from acquiring frostbite pfffttt

Between this top and the mandatory acrylics that come with the new arm, gotta say I'm loving how much Nintendo keeps leaning into GNC Link XD

Update: Just realized they gave him a set of blue acrylics for his left hand

Link really do be out here serving cunt 💅💅✨✨

Update II: Many thanks to the people who pointed out that this outfit gives you a special frost attack when in cold temperature areas, it doesn't actually protect you from the elements. I'll be honest, I am purposely avoiding any guides or walkthroughs for my TotK playthrough (since I'm trying to replicate my BotW experience). When I found the Frostbite Shirt, I was just happy that I finally had a piece of clothing that I thought could protect me from dying of hypothermia (was chugging spicy elixirs like you wouldn't believe) so I didn't notice the attack bonus until a bunch of you pointed it out lol

[foxprism]

Happy Halloween, party people!! Couldn't decide which version to post, so y'all are getting all three, lmao

[strangersatellites]

single dad steve decides to get a tattoo. he brings his 5 y/o daughter max along when he finds out that local tattoo artist eddie also does children’s temporary tattoos for free.

[itswhatyougive]

Steddie Nation, please give me your best bottom Steve fic recs! 🙏

[sha3mustd1e]

only steve and uncle wayne can touch eddie’s hair. it’s cannon fight me on it

steve doing eddie’s hair while eddie paints dnd minis 😌

[infinite-orangepeel]

(kinda based on the last ask) okay but now i’m thinking about steve inviting eddie to his gym and he only agrees because steve working out while making those little whines and pants?? obviously he’s going, but nope he made a mistake because now he has to pretend to work out (gross) and be publicly flustered by steve…

recently turned this gym partner steddie ficlet into a fully fledged 6.5k ao3 fic. feel free to check out the added filth here <333 mwah and thank you again to anon for the prompt that inspired it !

read pt.2 here !

read pt. 3 here !

your mind !! giving you a round of applause for this one !

okay so steve shows up in the tiniest gym shorts he owns and a white crop top bc he gets really sweaty—which eddie quickly finds he’s extremely turned on by. and ofc steve’s kinda oblivious to the real reason why eddie asked him if they could workout together. so he just takes eddie around the gym and shows him how to use the cardio machines, free weights, bench press etc. not batting an eyelash at the obvious hard-on eddie’s now sporting beneath his own shorts bc he’s too distracted by trying to get a good workout in.

and the thing is, steve’s been a member at this gym for quite some time now and he’s well known around town (ex-jock/popular kid and what have you). so a bunch of his old teammates/acquaintances from high school stop by to chat with him as he leads eddie through their workout.

which only adds fuel to the fire—for a multitude of reasons—bc some of the guys are a little too handsy with steve as they make small talk. they’ll smack his ass, making it jiggle obscenely in those extra-small shorts, or they’ll reach over to teasingly twist one of his perky pink nipples through his fitted t-shirt. it’s all the stereotypical, jock-y, borderline homoerotic locker room, bullshit eddie used to pay witness to after gym class in school. the type of shit he used to roll his eyes at and ignore to the best of his ability.

but now, with steve harrington right in front of him, letting out all these breathy little moans and sighs as he exercises, getting fondled like a piece of meat by whoever can get their hands on him—eddie can’t quite ignore it. he quickly becomes a mixed bag of emotions, as steve reps out more bicep curls and socializes; jealous, confused, and unbearably horny.

bc god does steve look appetizing. he’s dripping sweat, smells deliciously musky, his veins are swollen from the exertion, his tits are all too visible through his dampened shirt, and the outline of his cock is readily on display in those shorts. the head of it almost peeking out from the hem every time he moves too quickly. and his ass looks so plump and round, eddie wants to sink his teeth into it asap.

but worst (best) of all are the sweet cries of effort he’s continually making. it’s a dangerous fucking game for eddie to be next to him right now. he can hardly take it, so he tries to palm himself just a little bit over the pants, as steve pushes his body to finish the set. he’s moaning so high in his throat to get the weight up the rest of the way and eddie knows if he just closed his eyes, he could easily imagine those pretty noises in a very different context. but if he allowed himself to do that, he’d also probably cum on the spot, so he grits his teeth and tries to avoid looking at steve for the time being.

and later on, when they go back to the locker room to get changed and shower off, eddie thinks he’s in the clear. he breathes a sigh of relief and can’t wait to get home so he can jerk off to the thought of steve’s gorgeous little sounds.

but when he goes to enter one of the gym shower stalls and starts to rinse off, he finds himself forcibly pressed up against the tile wall.

“y’know,” steve whispers hotly in his ear, licking the shell of it and nibbling on the lobe, “i’ve heard sex burns a decent amount of calories and since you were doing a lot more staring than lifting today, i’d say that might be a good way for you to make up for it.”