This is a sideblog of @griefabyss, I figured I could put fandom related things here because I don't put original posts on the main blog (I use it to reblog art I like), and don't want to limit posting to just ao3. I'm happy to make friends on here!
Please note that a lot of my reblogs are from my queue and I don't tag about it, so if I seem active but I'm not replying to a message that'd be why!
GriefAbyss on ao3 - My writing tag - My art tag
I'd say the majority of my writing and art are NSFW, so proceed accordingly, thanks!
Fanfiction Masterposts
Steddie Microfics: 2023 - 2024 (Monthly fic challenges with specific WCs)
LARP AU (Eddie teaches Steve DnD and it gets... interesting)
Decipher series (One-shot explorations of uncommon fetishes)
One-Shots (Stories I don't plan to write more than one fic for)
Two-Shots (Stories I don't plan to write more than two fics for)
On-going Series (Might be updated very slowly but there are PLANS)
Collabs & Continuations (Other people's series/stories I've continued & single fic collaborations)
Steddie Smutty September (Fics written for the weekly challenge in 2024)
Other ST Events (Steddie songfics, room for more later on!)
If you're looking for any WIPs I might have posted about, try the chats from the abyss tag! I have approx 66 WIPs (I just counted 💀) so feel free to send me an ask if you can't find something you're looking for, though I only post about like 10% of them.
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i was watching the karaoke scene again last night and genuinely like it fucks me up
bc in no way can be read that she was always gonna send grace on the hail mary, or that she suspected or knew she was going to have to send him.
when she sings, it is absolutely to him, but it's to reassure him that she knows she's going away but that she's coming back. she's telling him to hang in there, that it's going to be hard but that she believes in him and that she will come back when the time is right and they'll meet again somewhere far away from here.
that's the captain of the ship telling her first mate "youre gonna have to run things when im gone but its okay bc i believe in you and youre gonna do fine. I'll be back soon."
she KNOWS she's a scapegoat. she's been planning for her arrest and eventual escape the whole time on the backburner.
and then the disaster happens and she has to send her second in command, her friend, to his death or they all die.
and suddenly there is no more "we'll meet again someday" bc she's never gonna see him again. even if everything goes to plan and she escapes and the beetles arrive with a solution-- she loses grace forever.
if that doesnt just fucking gut you, if youre too busy being mad at her for killing grace to appreciate the fucking tragedy that is their relationship, you are missing out on some prime angst.
Prompt #13- Atari | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: E | CW: Mentions of Period Typical Internalized Homophobia, Mentions of Recreational Drugs & Alcohol, Teen Sex | POV: Eddie | Pairing: Steddie | Tags: Blow Jobs, Time Jump, Pre-S1 to S4, Secret Party Hookups
1983
The door closes, and Eddie hears fingers twisting the lock on the knob. He freezes, joystick in hand.
When Steve Harrington turns, they lock eyes, and Steve jumps. Eddie laughs. It's ridiculous. Like a skittish cat. If cats were dressed by their mommies in dorky khaki pants and tucked-in polos.
Harrington's face is a little flush, like he's been drinking. Smoking. Something. Eddie sold out of his stash fast tonight, even with the rich bitch premium he adds on for these parties.
Because these kids have loose wallets, spending daddy's money, and Eddie definitely takes advantage.
He also takes advantage of Harrington's queer proclivities. Harrington can deny it, can chase girls all he wants, but if Eddie hangs around long enough, at least fifty percent of the time, Steve will strike out with all the girls and come find Eddie instead. Too many times to be considered an accident, or a mistake. Still, Eddie has no illusions about what that is, or means. He knows he's a dirty little secret, but he still likes it when it ends up that way any given Friday night.
Eddie holds up his hands, joystick still clutched tight.
"What the fuck are you doing, Munson?" Steve asks, as if it isn't obvious.
"Playing your Atari. What the fuck are you hiding in here for?"
Eddie has hopes, but it's honestly too early for that. The party is still too hot, with too many people still here.
Still, Steve sits on the edge of the bed next to him, "It's just a lot tonight."
Eddie nods, and hands over the joystick, "We could take turns."
And Steve smiles, unpausing the game.
Eddie is between Steve's spread legs, and Steve is yanking at that helmet of hair of his, stomach tense, pulled taut. His hair looks better all messy, hot, just like the dark hair that's coming in all over his stomach and chest these days.
"Fuck," Steve whispers, and Eddie lowers his head again, bobbing up and down. He hasn't sucked many dicks, mainly just Harrington's these days, but he knows he loves it. The taste, the smell. Steve's dick is big, and he's clean. That last one isn't always a given, so Eddie has absolutely no complaints.
Steve's watching him tonight. Usually he has an arm slung over his eyes, like he can't bear to look at Eddie being the one that is unraveling him. He knows Steve isn't very in touch with how he feels about men. Or, at least how he feels about Eddie.
Eddie gets it. He'll get there. Or he won't.
"Oh, god," Steve says, and comes, his whole body tensing.
Eddie swallows.
When Eddie pulls back, he wipes the back of his hand across his swollen lips. With his other hand, he reaches down to adjust himself in his jeans. He's hard, fucking rock solid, and he can't help giving himself a few strokes through the rough denim. It wouldn't take much tonight. He could get there with very little elbow grease.
Usually he takes care of himself in a bathroom, or in the dark van.
"Hey! Stop that!" Steve snaps, and Eddie looks up at him, startled by the outburst.
"What?" Eddie asks, and Steve's hand finds Eddie's elbow, squeezing, trying to make him let go.
"You said we could take turns. It's my turn now," Steve says haughtily, and Eddie releases his own cock, stunned.
That's not. They don't.
Well, Steve doesn't.
"You're gonna…?" Eddie trails off.
"If you stop jerking it, I was planning on it, yeah," Steve says, bitchy, like Eddie has inconvenienced him terribly.
Well, in that case.
"Have at it, Harrington."
He's never done it before. Eddie realizes that quickly.
Harrington is enthusiastic, but there's no skill to speak of. But he isn't a quitter, Eddie will give him that. Steve keeps bobbing down, too deep, and coming up off coughing. It's not a good blow job, but any blow job is better than none. Eddie's no fool.
Eddie reaches down, and gently guides Steve's hand to the base of his cock.
"Here," he says softly, "use your hand and just focus on the head."
Steve nods, and when he goes back in, it's much better. He can lay back and enjoy it now, and when he gets close, he warns Steve.
Harrington is brave, or dumb, and takes it in the mouth.
Then, he freezes. Mouth full.
Eddie holds out his hand, and Steve spits into it.
"Thanks," Steve says, sheepish. And Eddie just shakes his head.
1986
"Oh, fuck me," Eddie groans, as Steve Harrington kneels between his knees. Sucking his cock. Squirreled away from the rest of the group. Forearm pressed against Eddie's stomach. The pressure is nice, even if it blocks his view a little.
Sometimes, Eddie felt like he'd made it all up. Another story he was telling, if only to himself. Harrington started dating Wheeler and that was that. He never sought out Eddie again until now. Never even glanced his way, leaving Eddie unsure if it had ever really happened.
Tonight, he knows he didn't dream it. They've done this before. And the motions don't even seem rusty.
Something must've snapped in Steve when Eddie had held him hostage with that broken bottle. Clearly. Eddie was out of his mind with fear, and hadn't even registered who he had a hold of.
Steve Harrington.
And now here they are, again. After all these years. And fuck if it doesn't feel goddamn amazing.
When Eddie comes against Steve's tongue, Steve pulls off. Looking at him.
Eddie holds out his hand.
Steve gives a silent laugh, air puffing out of his nose, and then he swallows.
Eddie smiles, cupping the side of his face, rubbing his thumb against Steve's cheek. This has been a bad fucking day. The goddamn worst of his life.
But Steve's here again, and he never imagined that would ever happen. And there's really only one thing to say:
"It's my turn now."
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! 🦇
Prompt #12 - Mullet | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: E | CW: Under Negotiated Kink, Breath Play, Restraints, Mention of Erectile Dysfunction | POV: Eddie | Pairing: Steddie | Tags: Post S4, 1990s, Fuck Buddies, Eddie Is Pining, But Knows He's To Blame
This is the second fic set in my haircut series. They can be read separately, but they are building on each other:
Perm | 2. Mullet
"Are you sure about this?" Steve asks, and Eddie nods.
Steve shrugs and takes the scissors to the top of Eddie's head, cutting off the first snip of long, curly hair, making it stand up.
"Oh," Eddie says, and Steve stills, hand hovering, scissors wide open.
"It's a little late for oh," Steve snaps bitchily, and he's right. Eddie knows he's right. He's gotta go through with it now. And if he hates it? He'll shave his head. Been there, done that.
Steve has no professional training, but he's been cutting everybody's hair for the last few years as a hobby.
He's a freak, but so is Eddie. He can't throw any stones. His glass house would shatter immediately into jagged, raggedy shards.
Plus, free haircuts. And the perm he gave Eddie looked good. So, historically, he should be more trusting of this. Steve hasn't done him wrong yet.
Eddie decides to just squeeze his eyes closed and hope for the best.
Not that Eddie's ever gotten the best in life, historically. Steve's the best thing he's got, and Steve ain't his.
Eddie regrets it. Almost immediately.
"I look like I'm about to start dancing to Achy Breaky Heart," Eddie bemoans. He thought he'd look like James Hetfield and not Billy Ray Cyrus. He was sorely mistaken. As he so often is.
He looks like a goddamn fool, and the worst part is, Steve did exactly what he asked for: a flat-top mullet.
Mistakes were made.
"Do you like it?" Eddie asks, wrinkling his nose.
"Not particularly, no," Steve says, honest to a fault. "It might be kinda hard to take you serious when we're fucking. I might need a blindfold. For me."
Eddie slumps. He knew he had no chance of Steve Harrington actually wanting him for anything besides sex, Eddie'd made sure of it, even before he did this to himself. But still. It's rubbing salt in the wound.
Only, Eddie's the one that forcefully held Steve at arm's length, so he can't really be that mad Steve's stayed where Eddie put him.
"You did a good job," Eddie says, "thank you."
Steve nods, putting his snips back into their little case. He bought them at a beauty supply store while they were in the city. He's definitely gotten his money's worth, even if Eddie wishes at this exact moment they hadn't encouraged this strange hobby.
"What the fuck?" Goodie asks, and Eddie thinks that about sums it up.
"Shut up," Eddie says, sitting his guitar case down. He's here to practice, not to get made fun of relentlessly.
"Did you pay for that?" Jeff asks.
"You damn well know Steve did it," Gareth chimes in, as if he hasn't been taking advantage of Steve's free barber services, too.
"The cut isn't technically bad," Goodie says, "it just looks stupid on Eddie."
"It looks stupid on everyone," Jeff chimes in, and Eddie feels defeated.
Maybe Steve will shave it all off for him. He can start over, and hopefully not be such a fucking idiot next time.
"I thought you couldn't take me seriously?" Eddie asks, hands cuffed to the bed frame. He yanks, digging into the wooden spindles. He likes that they're all scuffed from fucking Steve.
"I can't," Steve says, and starts stripping the pillow out of its case.
"What're you—"
But his question is cut off, muffled, from Steve shoving the pillowcase over Eddie's head.
Eddie dick gets impossibly harder, and he can feel his own breath blowing back in his face, trapped beneath the cotton.
Steve slides into him, and Eddie keens.
And Eddie comes. Fast. He never comes fast. Not anymore. He knows it's mostly about his prostate and the unexpected sack over his head.
"Did you just come?" Steve asks, and Eddie's embarrassed. This whole arrangement began due to his sexual deviance, his delayed orgasms, if not outright erectile dysfunction, and if that's clearing up?
Fuck.
"Yeah," Eddie mumbles, voice muffled.
"Shit," Steve says, and Eddie feels the bile rising. He needs the pillowcase off. He needs to wear it forever. "That's hot."
And Eddie relaxes, just a bit. Then, Steve's hand grasps at the top of the pillowcase, "Want me to pull this off?"
"No!"
"Want me to pull out?"
"No. Keep fucking me," Eddie says, grateful his face is covered.
And Steve does. Eddie isn't overstimulated. That's not really something he feels these days.
He kinda misses it. And the hair-trigger of youth.
But he relaxes, breath hot, wrists sore, and enjoys the sensation of Steve fucking him at whatever pace he wants. Only worried about himself for once. Chasing his own orgasm, and not just trying to coax Eddie's out of hiding.
It's a slow, easy grind and without being able to see, Eddie focuses on the sound of Steve's breathing. The warmth of his hands gripping Eddie's hips, holding him firmly in place.
The slide of his thick, hard cock.
When Steve comes, it's his breathy, soft moan of satisfaction that does Eddie in.
And all alone, here in the darkness, Eddie allows himself to feel hopelessly endeared.
"Just shave it off," Eddie says, running his hand over the top of his head. At least Steve didn't take the flat top super close to the skin. That would would have been fucking tragic.
Steve studies him carefully, "You don't have to go full buzzcut. I can work with this. Do you trust me?"
Of course Eddie trusts him. He's trusted Steve Harrington since they stomped through the Upside Down together.
Plus, Steve can't make it any worse than this. Eddie'd committed to the buzzcut. Anything's fine.
"Do what you gotta do," Eddie says, and Steve gets to work.
Eddie has nearly dozed off, when Steve deems it finished.
"There. All done."
Eddie reaches around, and finds almost all of his length gone. Except.
"Did you give me a rattail?"
"Yep."
"That's mean," Eddie says.
"I thought you wanted mean?" Steve counters, and well, Eddie can't argue with that.
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! 🦇
Notes: I've connected all four of the haircut prompts into one universe, and they'll be posted on Sundays this month.
James Hetfield | Billy Ray Cyrus - Eddie's mullet falls somewhere on this spectrum, lol.
His parents have good jobs and they never really struggle the way some of his friends do. Frankie’s dad lost his job a couple years ago and they still haven’t really recovered from that, even with his new job giving him a steady paycheck. Eddie’s uncle works his ass off and still barely makes ends meet in their trailer. Gareth’s mom is the only one doing okay, and she had to lose a husband for the bills to be paid.
He gets new clothes before every school year, and he always has his favorite food and drinks in the kitchen. He was able to take actual guitar lessons and get a brand new guitar as a gift a couple years ago. His little sisters got a swingset for their birthday, one of those ones you buy in the store and they come build for you.
And now he has the new Atari 2600 Jr. He wanted the original Atari 2600, but his dad’s friend who does international business managed to snag this for him in Europe for cheaper. He won’t complain.
He plans on spending his entire spring break playing on it. He already planned on Gareth and Frankie joining him. None of them can reach Eddie.
It’s weird. It’s not that they’re all attached at the hip, but Eddie doesn’t have that many friends. If he’s not at school, selling, or with them, he’s home.
Jeff decides to stop by. He gets the car this week because his older sister is at dance camp and his parents needed him to have it in case there was an emergency. Currently, the only emergency is not knowing where the hell Eddie is.
When he gets to the trailer park, he’s told to turn around. Cops have everything blocked off, but he can see that most of them are circling the Munson trailer. There’s yellow tape and Wayne’s truck, but no Eddie to be seen.
What if something happened to Wayne? He doesn’t see Eddie’s van, so maybe he doesn’t know. Or maybe he’s at the hospital.
He drives straight to Gareth’s and bangs on the door.
“What?” Gareth opens it, bag of chips in one hand, pajamas still on. He’s not even trying to look like he had plans for the day, which kind of pisses Jeff off. Sure, they don’t have school and Gareth doesn’t have a job, but he could at least get dressed.
“Eddie’s in trouble. Or Wayne is. But we gotta find him,” Jeff shoves him into his house. “Get dressed and put on some deodorant. You stink.”
“You stink,” Gareth rolls his eyes. “Maybe Eddie’s just sleeping in his van or something.”
“Dude. The cops are involved. And it must be bad because they aren’t letting anyone into the trailer park at all.”
Gareth goes pale. “Did you see him?”
“No. We need to find him. He wasn’t there,” Jeff explains. “Something’s wrong.”
–
Frankie ends up finding him first. They split up, which is probably not smart in this situation, but they need to cover more ground.
He hides in Jeff’s house for hours. No one knows he’s there and he begs them not to tell anyone. Frankie goes home because it would be suspicious for him to be hanging out and not playing the new Atari. He takes Gareth with him.
“What the hell is going on?” Jeff whispers when he’s sure his parents have gone to bed.
“I have to get out of here, man,” his eyes water as he curls up in Jeff’s closet. “I’ll go in an hour or so, when more people are asleep.”
“Tell me what’s going on!”
Eddie shakes his head. “Something’s fucked, dude. Chrissy-”
Jeff’s eyes go wide. “Did you do something to her?”
“No!” Eddie yelps. “No. I wouldn’t.”
Jeff knows that. But why else would all of the cops in town be at his door if he didn’t?
“She’s in the hospital. They said both her arms are broken and she may be permanently blind. You know anything about that?” Jeff crosses his arms.
“Yes and no. I know about it, but I still don’t know how it all happened. I…” Eddie sobs. “I can’t go home.”
“I’m sure it’ll be fine if you just explain what happened.”
“I don’t know what happened!” Eddie’s voice is way too loud for hiding. Jeff shushes him before he can freak out more. “And you know they won’t accept that answer. I’m fucked.”
“You aren’t fucked.”
“I am. But I’m gonna run and they’ll give up looking eventually,” Eddie explains. “Chrissy will tell them the truth and they’ll probably believe her just enough to stop looking for me, but not enough to not bother me. I have to go.”
“But-”
“Jeff. I have to go.”
He wouldn’t leave Wayne if he felt like he had another option. He would never abandon them if he didn’t have to.
So Jeff says the only thing he can think to say.
“If you’re running away, I’m driving the car.”
“What?” Eddie looks at him like he’s lost his mind. “You aren’t getting dragged into this.”
“I already am just by being your friend. You think they won’t come asking questions?” Jeff shakes his head. “If you’re in the shit, so am I.”
“You can’t steal the car to run away with me. You have school next week.”
“So do you.” Jeff laughs. “I’ve got some money saved up. I’ll grab the Atari. We’ll stay at a motel for a couple weeks. I’ll tell my parents I’m touring schools. It’s fine.”
“They won’t believe you.”
“Probably not, but I’ll already be gone.”
Eddie breathes in and out a few times before he stands. “Fine.”
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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The founders of Jane, an underground network in Chicago, US that assisted people in getting abortions. From the left moving right: Martha Scott, Jeanne Galatzer-Levy, Abby Parisers, Sheila Smith and Madeline Schwenk.
Martha Scott was 19 in 1965, when her friend's sister became pregnant and Scott helped her find a doctor to perform an abortion. The group connected individuals seeking abortions with doctors, and later, performed abortions themselves. Their clients were informed they were not doctors, but doing abortions themselves allowed them to keep costs low. They made people aware of the services through signs with slogans like "'Pregnant? Don't Want to Be? Call Jane." The group operated for seven years and performed an estimated 11,000 abortions; no deaths were ever reported.
Quote from Scott: "You're messing around inside somebody else's body. It's not necessarily given that you won't do harm. It wasn't perfect, by any means. But we were dealing with women who really didn't have other options."
Quote from Galatzer-Levy: "I hadn't had so much as a speeding ticket [when I joined]. But abortion really was the front line, it was where women were dying."
In 1972, two women reported Jane because their sister was seeking an abortion, and the women believed it was murder. All seven founders were arrested. Six months later, Roe v. Wade was decided and the charges were dropped. Read more here (link).
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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