#steve is his sun

[resident-gay-bitch]

To Eddie, music was never about the fame. 

He always believed in being a good person. Too many bad people in his life have shown him what’s most important, and Eddie’s always believed that no famous person can be good. Sure, there are kind and generous famous people, ones that gave and loved and supported others. But if you’re sitting on that much money, and that much power, how good can you really be? 

Okay, well, sure. It’s not like fame isn’t something he wanted. Who wouldn’t want to be famous, for real? Yeah, famous people aren’t good in his eyes, but Eddie knew he wasn’t all that good anyway. He tried to be, he really did, but sometimes he was just an asshole, and he knew that. Plus, he’d spent a few too many nights in the holding cell down at Hawkins PD to be considered a good person. So yeah, fame would be cool. Like, what doesn’t sound appealing about the fucking Freak rocking up at his highschool ten year reunion as an uber rich, world famous rockstar, desired by men and woman alike? It would be fucking awesome. He’d be able to fuck with so many of these dumb assholes. 

Music to Eddie was about the feeling. 

He played to feel. 

He performed to make other people feel. 

His love for music started young. His mother would put him on her lap at the mere age of three and press his little hands over the ivory keys of her old family piano. He could play a handful of quippy songs by the age of five. She used to sing him lullabies (which were mostly just old blues songs and a few of her favourites by the Beatles), and Eddie learned to sing along with her.

Often when just sitting at home, when he was colouring or doing his homework or something at the kitchen table, he’d listen to his mother hum whilst she cooked or cleaned around him. And he’d start to hum along, and they’d start to sing, and then soon enough they’d be dancing around the apartment singing their songs. And when Eddie was five, he was still a small kid, but he saw Wayne playing his guitar and wanted to learn. He couldn’t stretch his fingers over the frets or strings, couldn’t wrap a hand around the neck, hell, the body was bigger than he was. And so Wayne pulled out his old ukulele, tuned it up, and taught Eddie a few songs on that. 

When Eddie turned eight, and he got a little bigger, Wayne gifted Eddie his old guitar. Eddie learnt. He taught himself, mostly. Well, a few chords from Wayne, a few chords from his mother, and the rest he just… figured out. He’d rent videos of lessons, or guitarists playing live in concert and would imitate the way they moved their fingers. 

He had a good ear for sound, learnt from a game his mother taught him. She was a singer, used to sing on the late night news with a bunch of other chorus girls. So she’d hum a note and Eddie would try and match it, and she’d keep humming it until he got it right. So he’d just keep moving his fingers in different formations until something sounded smooth and resembled the sound in the song he was trying to learn. He was sure it was probably wrong, sometimes, not the way the rockstars played it, but it sounded the same, so that’s all he cared about. 

He could write well too. He always used to like coming up with silly songs whilst getting ready in the morning. He had a song for brushing his teeth that went for exactly two minutes, to make sure he brushed them well. He had a song for getting dressed, and a song for packing his lunch. He had a song for everything, and his mother bought him a journal to write all his songs down in, so he did. He wrote them all, and then he wrote more, and by the age of eleven Eddie had two shelves full of journals with all his songs. 

Music was his way of feeling, his way of coping. 

When his mother died, so did the music.

**

if you'd like to keep reading, you can find the full 11.3 k word fic here on ao3 :) don't forget to reblog and leave a kudos!!

[themadknightuniverse]

"You pulled me from the river. Why?" "I don't know." "Yes, you do."

[morganbritton132]

A girl makes a Twitter post that reads: Eddie Munson is on my flight and he’s currently arguing with the man next to him about his dog. Kinda a dick move ngl

They follow up with a post that says; NVM. I googled it. He’s arguing with his husband about their dog.

Follow up: EM thinks the dog should have the middle seat. Husband thinks dog should sit in aisle seat.

Follow up: Cute that they bought a ticket for their dog. Some people don’t.

Follow up: Insane to willingly sit in the middle seat tho

Follow up: EM says they’ll have extra leg room if the dog is in the middle. Hubs says dog should be on end so people can pet him as they go by

Follow up: They are so loud lmao. EM basically told the entire airport that you shouldn’t pet service dogs when they’re working. So true bestie

Follow up: Husband: Okay. Okay. Just say you don’t want to sit next to me if you don’t want to sit next to me!

Follow up: Munson: When did I say that? I didn’t say that. Just sit down wherever you want and eat your fucking granola. Cranky ass.

Follow up: Actually, I don’t think they’re arguing. I think this is flirting.

An Eddie Munson Fan: They’re definitely flirting

Fan who has seen every ‘Steddie’ TikTok in existence: Pretty sure this is just foreplay for them.

Someone else: Wait, who won the argument?

Official Corroded Coffin Twitter Account: Oz *pic of Ozzy sitting in the window seat*

[inklessletter]

"It's you, you know? It's not the sea, it's not the sun. It's you. You are my favourite part of the summer. It has always been you."

🏖️

Even if if took me DAYS, I'm thrilled to say that I finally finished it. Thank you so much for trusting the process yet again with me, for being such patients sweet lovely little things.

Thank you so, so much.

[starrystevie]

it was all supposed to be a joke. they were supposed to be in steve’s backyard with all their friends and family in shitty lawn chairs, holding cans of budweiser and jamming to whatever song eddie was in the mood for that day blasting through the speakers. steve was supposed to be in front of them all in a tuxedo t-shirt and powder blue dress pants, flowers in his hair that had been teased to high heaven and dark black sunglasses to keep out the bright sun. that’s how they had planned it all those years ago when they’d been high and drunk and young and in love.

but somehow instead, the yard is full of flowers and benches that hopper and wayne put together with spare wood for everyone to sit on and there’s an archway at the end of the aisle and soft acoustic songs spilling gently out of the speakers. steve’s still at the front, that was always supposed to happen, but this time he’s wearing an actual tux, light cream with a boutonnière and everything, and his hair is pushed back just so. there’s no flowers in his hair and no sunglasses but it’s cloudy enough of a day where he doesn’t really need them anyway.

they weren't even supposed to do this. there wasn't supposed to be a grand entrance and a walk down the aisle, no flower girls or ring bearers or anything remotely traditional. but what started off as, "well, i wouldn't mind walking down the aisle," and "i think exchanging rings would be cool," and "who cares if it isn't legal, i'm going to marry you anyway damnit," turned into this beautiful day of friends and family and love.

robin’s standing beside him in a tux of her own, pinstripe grey donning a pocket boutonnière that matches nancy’s bouquet, with a few notecards in her hands. and speaking of nancy, she’s heading down the aisle in a flowing dress, and when her eyes catch robin’s, she crinkles her nose before blowing her a kiss. she stands opposite of steve as eddie's not-quite-bridesmaid and grips her bouquet tightly, her eyes never leaving robin's.

and then there's dustin. he's in a tux that matches steve's and he has his curls pushed back with probably too much gel and a tie that suzie got him for their 3rd anniversary. the best thing he's sporting, though, is the smile on his face and the ring box in his hand and the joy in his eyes as he looks out at the crowd. having him there as best man and smelling the cheap cologne he wears so he seems more grown up calms steve's ever beating heart enough to where he doesn't think he'll throw up from nerves anymore.

all of their loved ones are surrounding them in clothes steve’s never seen before but he couldn’t care at all what they’re wearing because they’re all smiling wide and bright at him. he catches himself rocking back and forth on his feet so he shakes out his hands and holds them behind his back to distract himself. his stomach is rolling with waves or butterflies and when he catches joyce's eye in the front row, she mimes taking in a deep breath which he instantly copies. the soft grin she sends in return tells him that he thinks it could actually work to settle him. mothers have that healing way about them.

he’s never been good with weddings, always fidgeting in a too tight suit his mom picked out, but he never thought he’d be this antsy at his own.

steve's just about to give up and sprint down the aisle to get eddie so they can run away together and leave nerves and or butterflies behind him, but then the music stops. he sees lucas changing out the tapes quickly, giving a thumbs up to mike who throws one to will who runs back behind the shed to where he knows eddie is waiting and when will pops his head back out to run back to his seat, it hits him.

he's getting married.

steve doesn't have time to think about it anymore than he already has been for the last 8 years because eddie's coming around the corner of the shed.

'here comes the sun' is playing out over the speakers, soft and perfect, and eddie's smiling, wide and beautiful, and steve can't help but mirror it back to him. the clouds overhead seem to hear them, hear the song and hear their hearts beating in time with each other, because as soon as eddie gets to the aisle, bright warm rays of sunlight peak out and make the rhinestones he demanded line the lapels of his own black tux shine like real diamonds.

steve stops breathing. he swears he does, and he knows his family are all feeling the same way. he can hear a few gasps, hears joyce muttering what she thinks is a silent, "oh my god," in hop's ear, and watches how wayne stands up just a bit straighter from his front row seat.

eddie glides down the aisle like the drama king he is, soaking in the looks from everyone they care about and soaking in the sun that seems to come out only for him. it's like the sun knows he's a star, too, and wants to come out to be with one of it's own. eddie's always been sunshine and starlight and a blinding thing to look at and take in. he's the light, steve's the moth, and a few clouds on their wedding day could never change it.

"well, that was insanely good timing," eddie whispers to steve once he reaches him. his grin softens and he brings up a hand to wipe gently at the tear tracks on steve's cheeks. "hi, baby."

and steve can do nothing but choke out a laugh, catching eddie's hand in his own so he press a kiss to his palm. he thinks he can feel eddie's heartbeat against his lips and, even if it's his brain playing tricks on him, he likes the sentiment that it brings. "i love you so fucking much."

it's eddie's turn to get teary-eyed and the sun glints off the tears that fall down his cheek before heading back behind the clouds, dotting quick-to-fade sparkles on his face like a wedding present.

steve kisses him. he can't help it. it's nothing but a fast press of lips, watery smile to watery smile, and everyone is cheering except for robin.

"hey! it's not time for that yet," she says with a pretend scowl, arms pressing to each of their chests to keep them apart. it's enough to leave nancy giggling where she stands behind eddie, her laugh like bells bouncing off of the trees surrounding them. "just give me like ten minutes and we'll have you married and you can kiss all you want then."

steve swears he can hear mike groan at that which cause him to grin which cause eddie to grin back and then they're holding hands like it's the only way to get through the next ten minutes. and it might just be the only way to get through it. knowing them, if they didn't hold on tight, one of them would make a move first and there'd be hands around waists and fingers tangled in hair and robin would hate them forever because she wouldn't get to do her speech.

it's after vows are shared, after rings are on fingers, after kisses are pressed to lips and cheeks and temples and hands and everything else they can quickly reach, that the two of them get some peace. everyone is inside eating snacks and drinking cheap champagne, and it goes unspoken that they're going to take some time for themselves. take some time to bask in their new maybe not-so-legally real but as real as could ever be in their hearts marriage.

they make their way, hand in hand like they've always been meant to do, to a table set up for them. eddie pops a bottle of champagne that they pass back and forth between themselves as they share cheesy smiles and champagne-laced kisses. and it's as they look into each other's eyes, fingers lacing so their rings clink softly against each other, that the sun peaks out to say hello once more.

[keirametzbrassknuckles]

Something which I just love about Steddie as a dynamic is they're the golden retriever/black cat dynamic on the surface but reversed underneath. Steve is the most ornery, bitchy golden retriever, and Eddie is like a sleek black cat with one brain cell who keeps getting the zoomies and running head first into the walls.

[florallylly]

eddie munson losing a corroded coffin or hellfire shirt at school one day, and steve harrington being so tired after basketball practice that when he can't find his shirt (maybe hargrove has stooped to juvenile tricks), he just grabs something random from the lost and found. it's not like he's going to be wearing it for long.

but as gross as it is, it does fit rather comfortably. and maybe steve washes the shirt afterwards, finding it folded in the back of his drawer a month later. he shrugs it on, the fabric soft and worn with use, and deems it his new pajama shirt.

and then one day eddie munson happens to see steve in the morning, sleepy and a little bit grumpy. eddie has to do a double take bc not only is steve like a cat waking up, but he's also IN HIS SHIRT. looking like some type of groupie or a member of hellfire

he self combusts. steve is too tired to deal with it and falls asleep at the table.

[darksouls2yuri]

alola vacation ✨️🏳️‍⚧️🌺

[oriarts]

i just think wayne and steve need to listen to bruce springsteen early in the morning as they ride in waynes battered truck to a fishing spot and eddie waved goodbye sleepily before going and zoinking back out on the couch and steve goes to cut something and oh so casually whips out his new (to him) pocket knife and trims a lure and wayne just claps him on the shoulder and they exist in the early autumn morning, crisp air on their cheeks as the sun finally breaks above the trees, the predawn light blooming into a brilliant day

[bigdumbbambieyes]

based on @akioukun’s seasons au. this au has stirred me up inside in the best of ways, i hope i do it justice with another little ficlet!

he searches for days.

Steve’s gone missing and Billy has no idea where to even begin looking — because Steve’s always just been there, just out of reach and on his own in a world of quiet loneliness beside Billy. always there but never truly present, not unless Billy touched him. grounded him, in a way.

Billy understands that it’s not easy being what Steve is. how he goes through every day feeling empty and half alive and waiting for winter to come and put him to sleep. to let him rest until he can get back on his feet, reenergized.

the first chill that Billy feels in the wind puts him on edge. it’s too early, he’s not ready, Steve is still missing and winter can’t come before autumn.

Billy won’t allow it.

so, he searches. he takes his heat from the sand and shore and into the forest, deeper and deeper where he knows Steve often retreats to. where he likes to wander alone, tending to the flowers in his chest in secret, as if Billy doesn’t know about them.

worry creeps up on him, like winter does. the first frost will be soon. and if he doesn’t hurry, he’ll miss Steve. he’ll have to wait until he’s ready to wake up again but Billy’s not ready to let him sleep just yet. there’s so much he has to say and so much he wants to do with him.

it’s not fair. he knows seasons are fickle and will leave whenever they wish, without a word because thats their nature, but it’s not fair. he makes the days hot but the mornings and evenings are cold and empty without Steve.

he goes further into the forest, where he’s never been before.

and that’s where Billy finds him, just on the soft bank of a small river. Steve’s asleep, curled up on the ground like a babe with moss growing over his body like a blanket and flowers sprout from his body — from the soft moss on his chest and arms and legs. he’s decaying beautifully, resting under a cover that he created with Billy, finally asleep and ready for winter. he’s as he should be. autumn will always rest and decay and he’ll wake when he’s ready. Billy will just have to wait.

so, he sits next to his sleeping autumn and feels like the earth just before winter — cold.

[ghosttotheparty]

ok i’ve talked ab unintentionally-secret metalhead steve but what about metalhead steve that listens to heavier music than eddie

[mingmingbats]

Summer time dream

Steddie

[morganbritton132]

Steve: A group of a crows is called a murder and a group of ferrets is called a business. What’s a group of cows called?

Eddie: Herd of cows

Steve: Yeah, I’ve heard of them but what is a bunch of them called?

Eddie: *loud silence*

[inklessletter]

You belong in the daylight, in the sand, and the sea and the salt that I don't find in your eyes.

You belong in the summer, child of the sun.

🌅

Keep trusting, love. We're not done.

[dreamings-free]

17/4/24 + comments:

[ickypuppi3]

billy and steve being the same character originally is so compelling to me because they really are just two sides of the same coin