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#s4 homes
simnematographygj · 2 years
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#95. 4, Olde Mill Gardenhouse
More pictures of this build you can find in my Instagram.
How about my classic little home for gardeners? :3
Also it's the first time I've made a house with real attic (I mean room in the roof) and didn't hate it, haha. Yeah, the beef with doing rooms in roofs is going for reeeeeeeeal long time for me. The reason is simple. The lighting. For some reason rooms that were made in rooms have outdoor lighting, and when it has different type of lighting in different rooms, it doesn't look good for me.
But here... I don't know what happened but bedroom in this "real attic" looks like it must be here, and lighting is not disturbing.
30x20 lot
1 bedroom (in the attic), 1 bathroom
Keypoints were playtested but we all know this game, it can stop working after a second of everything being ok, ugh
CC-list and some CC pieces are included
You will have to turn bb.moveobjects on before placing. You have to have your game fully updated to use this build. You will need these DLC for this to work:
Please, give me a credit if you use this lot, ‘cause I want to know if I was helpful to someone with my creations. Thank you!
Thanks to @aroundthesims @awingedllama @charlypancakes @faded-springs @hanraja @harrie-cc @felixandresims @leaf-motif @littledica @madameriasims4 @maxsus @peacemaker-ic @pierisim @plumbobteasociety @ravasheencc @s-imagination @imfromsixam for your wonderful CC, this build won’t be possible without your creations!
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Download: Patreon(Early Access) |Public Release: June, 28th
@maxismatchccworld @sssvitlanz
OriginID: GordanJohnson. You can find a little bit more already posted there :)
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myshunosun · 6 months
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Bake It Up Stand Mixer & Cookbook - Home Chef Hustle SP (#EAPartner)
As promised, here are the new versions of my Bake It Up stand mixer and cookbook that are compatible with the Home Chef Hustle SP (SP is required). The mixer has a slightly different design that works with the new gameplay interactions. I also added new swatches to it to sweeten the deal.
Big thanks to the EA Creator Network for providing me with early access to this pack, and making this prompt item update possible. Check out the original Bake It Up set here.
Download (always free on Patreon) / Follow me on social media
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Home Chef Hustle SP required
Stand mixer: 18 tagged swatches, 300§
Cookbook: 4 tagged swatches, 80§
Custom catalog thumbnails
Custom specular and normal maps 
New meshes, all LODs
These items do not override the items from my original Bake It Up set. In other words, you can use both versions in your game. You can search for “bake it up" or “myshunosun” in the buy catalog to quickly find these items.
Follow and support me here: Tumblr / Twitter / Patreon / Instagram / CurseForge
@public-ccfinds @s4library @mmfinds @sssvitlanz @maxismatchccworld
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strangertheories · 6 months
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I really despise the Marvelification of Stranger Things, because all the interviews nowadays are constantly referencing how fast paced and epic and big the finale will be but the reason people fell in love with the show wasn't special effects or long episodes; it was the plot, it was the characters, it was the mystery. Stranger Things 1 may have been a story about a government conspiracy and a monster, but that's not why we stuck around. The show can throw amazing CGI, Russians, a battle within the American army and an apocalypse at the audience with the biggest budget known to man but if they forget to ground it and keep it central, it'll just get lost amongst a plethora of other "epic" blockbusters. We want Steven King, not Avengers.
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hobbyistauthor · 2 months
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1 ▰▱▰▱ Take Me Home (Please Stay With Me) ▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱
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so @steddielations mentioned that it was okay if i posted my lil fic inspired by their post separately so it wasn't buried in the reblogs or whatever. so i'm taking her advice and here it is in all it's standalone glory, i guess? anyway, originally when i stumbled across his post, i couldn't help myself, i absolutely go bonkers for kas!eddie and it was such a fucking cute idea i couldn't not write something about it. we see so much dark vampire!eddie and monster!eddie stuff, so i'm kinda here for the cute shit i guess?
this is wholly unedited, and it's my very first st fic ever, so i hope it's not shit. (y'all seemed to like it on the OG post anyway)
i also included a little extra treat (from my main tumblr account) tucked away at about the halfway mark, so enjoy i guess?
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The world may be fucking ending, but goddamn it he’s never going to get over leaving Eddie’s body behind. Dustin is his brother, for fuckssake, he deserves some closure at the very least, and Mr. Munson ought to be able to say a proper goodbye to his nephew. Steve feels like shit— like he’s robbed the man of that simple right and watching Dustin and Mr. Munson in the aftermath, having driven the kid to the guy’s new Government-issued, post-“earthquake” relocation apartment a few times in the later weeks so Dustin can check on the guy? Absolutely gutting. Now, Steve knows he’s got a habit of taking on guilt that really isn’t his. Robin has smacked him around the head for weeks about this now, yelled at him about getting a goddamn therapist or something but. This? He feels responsible, somehow. If he’d only been stronger, he could have carried Eddie’s body out.
He’s been going over it in his mind now for weeks. He probably could have managed if he’d dropped all his weapons, carried nothing else except for Eddie’s body. Steve’s strong, he knows this, it’s one of the few reasons the Party still keeps him around—he’s like a– a meat-shield or something. It’s his job to keep them safe, even though he’s failed spectacularly this time, with Max all but brain dead in a coma and Eddie actually dead and it’s all just… it’s all just bullshit. Steve feels like he’s at the end of his rope at this point, and it’s with that edge of mania, that taste of hysteria that he blurts out his half-cocked plan to Robin. He can’t let Eddie’s body rot down there any longer.
Of course he gets shut down almost immediately and Robin all but restrains him to the bedpost while she calls the cavalry—the cavalry being Nancy—but even with the two of them, he’s immovable. He can’t keep doing this, don’t they understand? And that’s just it: they don’t. No matter how many times he explains it, or tries to, they just tell him the same thing: it’s not his fault, it’s too dangerous. He doesn’t understand how they don’t see it. It’s Steve’s job to do this, it’s his purpose, he has to bring Eddie home safe because it means that Dustin will finally get some fucking peace and Mr. Munson will get the goddamn closure he deserves. Steve cries more than he has cried in years, probably scaring Robin and Nancy more than they let on, but he just can’t do it anymore.
In the end, it’s his warbled “Please” that gets them to crack, and they agree to head back down through the widest gate closest to the trailer park, the gate closest to where they left Eddie’s body to rot. He’s got his bat this time but not much else, although Nancy and Robin are armed to the teeth, and his walkie is in Nancy’s backpack along with a truly astounding amount of ammo for her shotgun. The drop into the Upside Down is disorienting as always and once they’re all present, he takes a moment to listen. He exhales, his breath clouding in front of him at the chill. There’s very little noise aside from the ambient sounds he remembers from the last time they’d all taken their waltz through Hell, but he freezes when his ears pick up the sound of chittering.
“What? Do you hear something?”
Steve shushes them, spinning his nail bat once, twice, before easing his way into the nightmare version of the trailer park. He walks softly, treading quietly like he remembers doing when his parents were home more often and he was afraid of disturbing them. Eggshells, he remembers hearing once—walking on eggshells. He catches a glimpse of what look like those fucking bat things hanging from the lip of the roof on one of the trailers they pass. He wonders what the kids would name them, if there’s some dungeons and dumbasses monster they’d pick like with Demogorgon or fucking Vecna—he wouldn’t put it past Dustin to just call them demobats, like he’d named the ugly baby things demodogs—but the bat fuckers don’t attack. If anything, Steve thinks they’re watching their group. Which, while creepy, is only mildly better than just outright attacking. He refocuses.
The deeper into the trailer park they go, the more and more of these bat things—screw it, Steve’s just gonna start calling the fuckers demobats—they start to see. It’s unnerving, being watched like this, and he’s definitely convinced they’re watching them. Nancy and Robin are murmuring behind him, probably talking about them too, but Steve is too focused on looking out for incoming threats to care about their conversation. He knows where the Munson’s trailer is, and if he can get there, he knows the direction in which Eddie’s body will be laying. He swallows down the nausea that rises in his throat. He’s not sure what he’s going to find, but he’s glad for the bandana he’s got tied around the lower half of his face—Nancy had insisted on face and eye coverings for this trip. Steve hadn’t argued.
Rounding the side of one of the other motor homes, Steve spots the Munson trailer and heaves out a groaning breath at the sight. The amps are still on the roof and not for the first time, he wishes he’d been able to see Eddie play at least once before he’d died. Dustin said it was the most metal concert he’s ever seen, and at this point, Steve is inclined to believe the little shit. He takes a breath, glancing over his shoulder at Robin and Nancy.
“There’s the trailer. Do… Do you think one of you could get his guitar, too?”
“Steve, are you serious right now?”
Robin’s tone is incredulous, and he can see by the set of Nancy’s jaw from beneath her own face coverings that she’s just as frustrated with him.
“Just… it meant a lot to him, okay? I’d. I’d rather at least try to get it back topside…”
“Fine.”
Nancy’s firm, but she’s agreeing and quite frankly that’s more than he’s expected. He fights back the tears that he feels building as he thanks her.
“Don’t thank me yet, Steve. We still have to see if we can even get his body out of here, okay?”
He nods and refocuses, stepping out from the shadowed shelter cast by the trailer they’re huddled behind. The sudden flap of wings in the air and the shrieking chittering is not welcomed.
“Fuck fuck fuck!”
Steve is angry a lot. He doesn’t usually let it show, just holds it in and puts on a smile to go about his day. It’s what makes all the Hawkins moms like him so much. He seems approachable, amiable. Likable. Below the surface, however, he’s a seething mass of old rage that he wishes he could truly get rid of. He doesn’t like being angry; it makes him uncomfortable, unsteady. He doesn’t like to fight like Billy did to quell the rage burbling inside his gut or like Tommy does, to satisfy a need to feel superior over those who are weaker than him. When he does fight, it’s to protect; to draw the attention away from those more vulnerable. He makes himself a target because he knows he can take it, and every blow that he blocks is a victory even at the cost of his own health.
In this moment, however, he can feel his pulse ringing in his ears, throbbing in his veins as he stares down the whirlwind of demon fucking bats darkening the hellish sky. The wood of his weapon creaks under the clench of his knuckles and he just… lets his vision go red.
Plant your feet, Harrington!
The first of the bats goes down with a sickening squelching noise, a savage sound tearing its way from his throat. He keeps moving, shifting with his own momentum and sweeping his nail bat to bludgeon anything within his range. He cuts a path easily through the dive-bombing swarm, his layers thicker than the last time he was here and offering much better protection. He still feels the teeth when one gets through his defensive arcing strikes, but it’s so muted beneath his rage that it’s insignificant. It’s easy to hook his fingers around its slimy rotten throat and use his own body mass and torque to rip the thing in half, acrid dark blood spraying in the air and staining his face, hair, and clothes as it settles. He can hear the shattering glass of Robin’s Molotovs and the gunfire from Nancy’s pistols behind him like distant echoes as he tears through another swooping demobat with a nail-ridden swing.
He hates these fucking things. He hates them. They took Eddie from Dustin. They took Eddie from Mr. Munson. They took Eddie from him. He’s closer to the trailer now, practically right next to it at this point, and he presses his back to it as he swings his bat in a long arc, slamming another fucking nasty bitch to the ground with a sickening squelch. It screeches when he presses a boot-clad foot on its writhing form and pries the nails out of its disgusting flesh before bringing the bat down again and again and again until finally, it stops moving. His chest is heaving and his outermost layer is nearly completely shredded. He’s got countless shallow wounds from where fangs have managed to penetrate his defenses but he hasn’t lost much blood yet. He can still fight.
He turns his attention to Nancy and Robin, and the two are holding their own exceptionally well. Robin is swinging her crowbar around and Nancy is firing off shotgun shells like a pro, having ditched the pistols at some point for more firepower. The swarm seems to be retreating now, called back by some force they’ve yet to see. He fucking hopes its not goddamn Vecna, because they sure as hell don’t have the time or the ammo to deal with his shit. Steve hauls himself fully upright as he makes his way back to his allies. He manages to kill a few more demobats on his way to them, watching as the rest fly off and disappear further into the trailer park. 
“Alright, I’m gonna check the roof, see if the guitar is up there. Can one of you check inside?”
“Got it.”
Steve nods at Robin and heads back over to the trailer, making his way up to the roof steadily. He hears the girls shut the front door so he knows they’re already inside by the time he manages to haul himself up to the top and he inhales sharply at the sight of Eddie’s guitar—a Warlock, he thinks it was called—left abandoned with the amps. His heart lurches in his chest as he approaches it, kneeling down and trailing his fingers across the dark, black angular surface. He chokes on a sob, hating that this very well may be one of the only things left of Eddie if they for some reason can’t bring back his body.
He’d known it was a possibility, but he hadn’t wanted to acknowledge it. With all the demobats they’ve just fought off, there’s just. There’s no way Eddie hasn’t been eaten at this point. Steve slips the handle of his nail bat through a loop on his jeans and gingerly, with reverence, he picks up the Warlock and slings it onto his back. He exhales shakily as the weight of it rests there, against his spine, and he finds himself clinging to the tiny shred of hope that still remains that Eddie’s body is still intact enough for them to carry back through the gate—back home.
Climbing back down isn’t too difficult, but it’s not necessarily easy either. Robin and Nancy look at him with sympathetic eyes but thankfully they don’t say anything. He doesn’t think he’ll be able to handle it if they tried to say something right now. He swallows back another sob, pretending like he’s not on the cusp of another breakdown and straightens his spine.
“Alright. Let’s go.”
They follow.
The walk is silent again, no demobats in sight which is concerning. Steve doesn’t understand where they all went. There were so many, and now they’re just… gone? It doesn’t make sense. He grits his teeth and flexes his grip on his nail bat, trying to ignore the weighty addition of the Warlock at his back. As they get closer to where they’d left Eddie’s body, dread begins to creep in, slithering through his veins like icy vines. The area is dark with old blood, the ground irreversibly stained by Eddie’s bravery and his sacrifice. But his body is not there. There are no vines holding anything down, no evidence of his clothing even, barring the shredded remnants of a leather jacket, some fabric scraps, and the skull-printed black handkerchief he’d worn around his head resting on the bloodstained ground. 
“What the fu–”
The screech is unexpected and at a pitch that sends all three of them stumbling, clutching at their ears. Steve recovers quickly, stepping in front of Robin and Nancy and planting his feet like a human shield, holding his nail bat out in front of him. His gaze darts back and forth, trying to find the source of the screech when it drops from the sky before him. His heart leaps to his throat, adrenaline surging through his veins, because he has never encountered this kind of Upside Down monster before.
It hisses and snarls at them, flashing deadly, long fangs. Steve can clearly see what looks like blood smeared across the white surface and around the things’ mouth. Its head is vaguely bat-like, with what appear to be four, overlarge ears pushing out from the sides and temples of its head, the origins hidden by dark, curled hair or perhaps fur that drapes across its forehead, shoulders, and down its back—something most of the monsters haven’t had. Unlike most of the monsters they’ve seen so far, this one has eyes, and they gleam dark red, furious in the hellish lighting of the Upside Down. It stands on two legs, bent backwards in an inhuman manner and tapered down to deadly talon-tipped toes. Dark fur or maybe fabric of some kind covers the upper portion of its legs, and a long, dark tail swishes behind it. It’s vaguely humanoid in shape but stands slightly hunched, spine arched and visible skin pale as death. Wings not unlike those he’s seen on the demobats, but much larger and darker are spread from the things’ back, wide and tipped with what look like deadly talons. Its arms are pale at the shoulders and eerily human, riddled with lithe muscle as they bleed into dark ink-black forearms, ending in strong hands with long, talon-tipped fingers curled into deadly looking claws. Everything about it screams predator—deadly, territorial predator.
Except for one thing. 
One thing that makes Steve pause.
Because he would recognize that t-shirt anywhere, even half-shredded as it is.
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He slowly lowers his bat, causing Nancy and Robin to start hissing at him in a panic. He ignores them, tucking the weapon into his belt loop again. He pulls the goggles up to his forehead, pushing his sweaty hair off his forehead and pulls his bandana down to his throat, exposing his face. He gingerly slides the Warlock off his back, keeping his motions controlled and slow, like he would were he dealing with a spooked animal. The monster before him stops snarling, hissing instead, and Steve watches as its head tilts slightly to the side in a motion that has Steve’s heart lurching in his chest with recognition. He sets the Warlock on the ground gently, never tearing his gaze away from the monster. He swallows. Robin is going to be pissed at him if he’s wrong, but then at least his corpse will be a good distraction for when they can run away, right? He takes a step forward and the snarling starts up again. He holds out his hands in the universal gesture for “calm down” and inhales to settle his own racing heart.
“Ed… Eddie?”
The monster’s hackles drop almost immediately at his words and its hunched posture straightens, showing off how it towers over Steve. A slow blink causes the red, angry eyes to shift to a hickory color, rounding them to the point where it would be almost comical were Steve not utterly terrified that this could still backfire. He forces himself to smile without showing his teeth, wiggling his fingers in a little wave, unnerved at the way those huge, warm eyes are just. Staring at him now.
“Hey, man… It's uh. Steve.”
There’s a long, drawn out moment where the only sound is the ambient background noise of the Upside Down. Steve has a horrifying thought of, well shit this isn’t going to work, I’m definitely going to die, but then all of his doom and gloom thoughts are dispelled. With a flurry of movement, the monster lets out a loud chirrup and scampers on all fours at Steve with inhuman speeds. He can hear Robin and Nancy’s panic, the click of Nancy cocking her shotgun, but she isn’t fast enough. The monster hits him full on in the chest, knocking him to the ground—thankfully not crushing the Warlock, Jesus Christ, that would have been painful—and pinning him there for a long moment. He stops breathing, because fuck, this thing is so much bigger than Eddie was as a human, but it’s only for a second because the formerly terrifying monster jumps off of him, running in delighted circles and twirls around where Steve sits, sprawled, chirping and crooning at him like an overly excitable pet. 
Steve hates to admit it, but this is fucking cute as hell. It’s weird, but goddamn is he not utterly charmed. He laughs a little to himself.
“You’re like a nice, giant monster puppy, Eddie!”
The monster freezes where it’s circling him, turning huge, hickory goddamn Bambi eyes on Steve before letting out the absolute cutest chirrup noise Steve’s ever heard in his entire life, and throwing itself at Steve’s chest again. That long tail is wagging so hard its hips and ass are moving with the motion, and its wings are fluttering slightly where they’re pulled back against that bony, inhuman spine. It pushes its big head under one of Steve’s hands like a cat asking for pets and Steve can’t help but laugh out loud, slightly hysterical, sinking his fingers into the… Eddie-monster’s curls and scratching. The noise Steve’s rewarded with is wonderfully charming, somewhere between a chirring sound and a cooing sound. 
“Good boy..?”
Steve watches as the Eddie-monster’s wings all but vibrate in response, the sub-vocal chirring noise growing louder as he presses his head harder into Steve’s hands. Steve knows his grin has to be absolutely manic at this point, but he’s so beyond caring. Eddie is alive! He turns his head towards Robin and Nancy, shooting them his best “can we keep him?” expression, complete with a cheesing grin.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Oh my god is that really Eddie? What the fuck, Steve, he really likes you!?”
Robin is laughing her ass off, which is par for the course and Steve expected nothing less from his fucking soulmate—god, he loves her so much—but Nancy is looking less than pleased, and deeply unnerved. He can’t say he really blames her, but there’s no way this goofy ass, giant nerd puppy thing isn’t the same guy who liked to jump up on cafeteria tables and give speeches like the dramatic shit he remembers!
“There’s no way that this thing is Eddie, Steve.”
Nancy takes a step closer to Steve, hands still clenched on her shotgun, and the Eddie-monster reacts very poorly to her approach. It happens in milliseconds—one moment he’s happily in Steve’s arms, and then then next he’s shoved Steve down underneath his body, flaring his wings out as he hovers over top of Steve, eyes once again going red. He’s snarling and hissing, saliva dripping from those massive sharp fangs, flexing his talons in a threat display. Steve sighs and rolls his eyes, shifting his body weight to sit up, grabbing a fist-full of Eddie-monster’s hair-fur like he would scruff a cat,
“Bad Eddie. We don’t snarl at our friends,” 
And pulls. Hard.
The squeaking cry that Eddie-monster lets out at the sudden, harsh tug is high pitched and the physical reaction that goes with it is immediate. His wings fold in and his eyes shift back to hickory, huge and big and glassy as he melts down against Steve’s chest, legs seemingly turning to jelly beneath him. His head falls back, exposing the entirety of his throat and collarbones as he whines, clawed hands flailing out in front of him until they settle against Steve’s thigh, kneading gently like a cat. His tail wraps around Steve’s other boot-covered ankle, the tip of it slipping inside the top to brush against the bare skin of his calf. Eddie-monster keeps whining softly until Steve’s fingers slowly release their tight hold on his hair-fur, resuming their petting instead. His weird little sub-vocal chirring begins again.
Robin is absolutely losing her shit.
Steve just flashes her a smug look over his shoulder, sending her into another round of hysterics.
“I’ve got him under control, Nance.” He turns back to Nancy, jerking his head down in a quick motion at the content, basically-purring giant monster in his lap, snuggling up against him. He fights the urge to smile.
“It’s definitely Eddie, look, he’s still got the Hellfire shirt on. It’s gotta be him. I have no idea why he looks like this, but I mean. We can’t just leave him here!”
“And what exactly are you going to do with him, Steve?” Nancy sounds so exasperated, a hint of anger in her tone, “Just keep him as a fucked up pet forever?”
“I don’t know, okay? I just. I don’t want to leave him here! Dustin deserves to know he’s alive, and so does Mr. Munson.”
Eddie-monster perks up when Steve says Dustin’s name, pulling his head out from under Steve’s hand and making a low sound that comes across almost questioning. Steve looks down at him, those huge Bambi eyes blinking back– holy shit, does Eddie have two sets of eyelids? What the fuck–
“Yeah, Eds.” He replies softly, aggressively ignoring the way Robin mouths his words back at him in his peripheral vision, clearly questioning his sudden nickname for a guy he technically only knew for like. A week. God, she’s going to razz the shit out of him for this later… Steve fights back the embarrassed blush he feels climbing his throat.
“Dustin Henderson, you remember him? You saved his life.”
Eddie-monster coos loudly, letting out another chirrup before tucking his head under Steve’s jaw, nuzzling up against him and letting out a low, sub-vocal sound that reminds Steve of purring. It rumbles against Steve’s chest, vibrating through his rib-cage. He feels the flush fill his cheeks and he sighs, surrendering to the lost cause.
“Yeah, Eds. He misses you so much. And your Uncle, too. Wayne Munson? He, uh. He’d be so happy to know you aren’t dead, man.”
The screech that comes out of Eddie-monster’s throat is soft and absolutely heartbreaking when Steve mentions Mr. Munson. It completely settles the matter for him, because fuck! Eddie deserves to see his goddamn family again, regardless of whether or not he’s some weird giant monster… puppy thing. So even if it means Steve has to fucking, like. Hide Eddie in his basement for the rest of his life, he’s gonna fucking do it, he’s gonna get Eddie out of this hellhole. Because they deserve this.
“So you wanna come with us? Back topside? I’ll get you safe in my house and then I can go bring them to–”
The wail that leaves Eddie-monster is terrified and he scrambles in Steve’s lap as though he’s trying to put all of his bulk as close to Steve as possible; something that would be funny were his talons not really fucking painful oh my god ow Jesus Christ. Steve bites the inside of his cheek, glancing down at where this giant, nearly seven-foot monster is shaking and clinging to him like a terrified baby, talons sunken into his skin, even through the thick layers of his jeans and his jackets. He hisses out a sigh.
“Okay, okay! Okay, Eds, I won’t leave you alone, I promise. Shh, it’s okay,” he soothes, running his hands back through the hair-fur along Eddie-monster’s shoulders and his neck.
He can feel the way Eddie-monster is trembling in his hold, whining softly where those fangs are pressed against Steve’s throat. He should probably be utterly terrified of that fact, but he honestly can’t even consider it. Eddie is clearly hurting right now, scared of being alone. Steve’s heart is breaking all over again for him—he’s realizing now that Eddie had awoken here, alone, after being fucking dead. Did he remember dying? Does he remember his choice? The courage he had to have, to choose someone else’s life over his own? And then… find himself abandoned in hell. Maybe he hadn’t woken in this monstrous form, maybe he’d awakened as a human, but the isolation somehow drove him to become this, this… half-feral beast. Steve swallows back his tears, he can’t be crying right now. Eddie needs him to be strong, he needs him to keep his goddamn shit together so they can get him home. 
He takes a shuddering breath.
He gently pushes on Eddie-monster’s massive shoulders and surprisingly, he goes easily with the pressure. Those giant Bambi eyes blink up at Steve, glassy and smoky hickory as Eddie-monster’s giant mass hunches in on himself. Steve’s already fractured heart gains another crack at the sight. He smiles without teeth and pets the top of Eddie-monster’s head, gently disrupting those soft, dark curls.
“Okay, man. You’re gonna come with me, okay? We’re gonna get topside, and then we’re gonna go home where you’ll stay with me. How does that sound?”
Eddie-monster pulls back from Steve’s chest a bit more as he chitters wildly. His wings flutter at his back and his gaze flickers across Steve’s face rapidly like he’s looking for something in Steve’s expression before dropping to where his talons are stuck in Steve’s arms and legs. His ears actually droop and he lets out a mournful, apologetic sound that warbles out of his throat. Gently but quickly, he extracts his talons and immediately skitters backwards, curling into himself like he’s ashamed. He ducks his head, tilting it to the side so that some of his hair-fur falls away from his neck to expose the pale skin beneath and the sad-sounding crooning he’s making takes on more of a whimpering tone with the action. Steve doesn’t want to see him so sad like this, the talons were an accident, after all. Eddie hadn’t intended to hurt him. Steve chuckles and stands up, brushing the Upside Down grunge off his pants. Eddie-monster doesn’t move, although the mournful croons begin to take on more of a pitiful whine the longer Steve takes to acknowledge his apologetic stance. 
Steve sighs with a small smile, finally satisfied with the sad state of his jeans and stepping closer. Sinking his fingers into that untamable mass of hair-fur, he presses down against Eddie-monster’s scalp and cards his hand through the surprisingly soft curls. Eddie-monster melts into him, pressing into the touch. The sad, crooning whines turning into that deep, low sub-vocal rumbling that Steve is fast becoming all-too-fond of. Steve indulges both himself and his monster for a long minute before pulling his hand back, patting Eddie on the head.
“If you’re done taming your pet monster,” Robin teases, a grin in her voice, “we should probably try to get out of here.”
Steve rolls his eyes at her, “Yeah, yeah, I hear you.”
He steps away from Eddie-monster and reaches down to swing the Warlock onto his back, letting out a soft oof when it resettles against his spine. He turns, shifting the strap across his chest to offer another closed-mouth smile at the hulking form behind him still seated on his haunches, watching Steve with blinking eyes. He pulls his goggles down over his own eyes and tugs his bandana back up over his face, adjusting them both until the fit is right. Eddie-monster shifts forward onto all fours, stalking forward with gaze narrowed and his nose twitching. Steve stays as still as he can, holding out his hand and murmuring soft encouragement, letting Eddie-monster reacquaint himself with Steve’s covered appearance. He gets circled a few times by the hulking form before he settles in at Steve’s side, seemingly content to plod along on all fours, his wings folded neatly against his back. Eddie-monster’s shoulders come up to just above Steve’s waist height, and he reaches out and ruffles the soft hair-fur around Eddie-monster’s two sets of ears, eliciting a pleased-sounding chirring noise as he presses his head into the touch. Steve tilts his own head towards his two human companions, glancing between them.
“Shall we, ladies?”
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The walk back through the Upside Down version of Forest Hills trailer park is just as cautious as their first venture, but having Eddie-monster at his side makes Steve feel infinitely safer. His heart feels settled, because even though the result isn’t exactly what he’d expected, it’s still a success. Eddie’s coming back with them through the gate, out of this hellhole. Steve glances down at the monster easily keeping pace with him, walking vigilantly at his side. Eddie-monster doesn’t radiate much heat, but the solid, large presence is a comfort nonetheless. Every few steps, Steve feels the sinuous touch of that long tail around one of his calves or behind his knees even through his thick denim jeans. It doesn’t inhibit his movement, so he assumes it’s a way for Eddie-monster to comfort himself with Steve's continued presence. He’s surprisingly tactile for a monster, but Steve certainly isn’t complaining. 
Steve’s not used to touch, himself. He spends so much time alone in his big, empty house—which, considering the whole shit happening in Hawkins at the moment, he’s pretty sure his parents have written off as a loss at this point. He loves his mom, she’s always tried, at the least. But while she’s a very supportive and loving person, she’s not exactly… maternal. If anything, she’s like a cool aunt who blows into town every so often and reassures him she loves him and then leaves. His dad? Grade A asshole. He’s never hit Steve or anything, but the man’s got a shitton of backwards-ass thinking and a lot of practice making Steve feel like the smallest thing in the room. Mom always hated that about him; after all, he was the one who’d really wanted kids in the first place, or so she’s said. Steve’s honestly still waiting for the day Mom finally serves his ass the divorce papers. So aside from Robin or Dustin, Steve doesn’t usually get touched very often, unless it’s with intent to hurt him. He’s pretty lonely, to be honest, so there’s a secret part of him that thrills at the idea of having a more permanent house guest in Eddie, even if he is more monster than human—possibly forever.
“Steve, we’ve got company.”
“Fuck fuck fuck! I hate those things…”
Nancy and Robin’s shaky warning pulls him from his thoughts, prompting him to immediately draw his nail bat from where it’s been tucked through one of his belt loops. The familiar heft of the wood in his hands is soothing, grounding in a way that ought to be concerning. He spins it in his hands once, twice—eyes trained on the sky. He glances at Nancy, watching her load her shotgun with a proficiency that no woman of her age should have honed so sharply, before turning his gaze to where Robin has a Molotov clutched in one hand and her crowbar tucked under her armpit. A lighter is clutched in her opposite hand, her thumb against the spark wheel, shaking with adrenaline. He returns his attention to the dark cloud in the sky as they keep moving forward in a group, but soon enough they can all tell it’s not so much a cloud as it is a massive swarm of those goddamn demobats. Nancy barks orders for them all to spread out a little, and they try to take some strategic cover as they keep moving. He curses.
“I fucking hate these things so goddamn much.”
They press onward, keeping their eyes on the swarm and sticking to their cover as much as possible. Eddie-monster keeps making these soft, confused sounds at them as they keep weaving in and out between the trailers, but Steve doesn’t really have the capacity to explain the strategy or reasoning to him. Doesn’t Eddie remember these fucking things? They’d killed him, after all, and it wasn’t exactly a peaceful fucking death. Steve can see that Eddie-monster has the scars from his death, present and patchwork pink along his arms, legs, and torso. Patchy bite marks marring the surface of his throat and the edge of his jaw; the pale, healed-over wounds present and haunting in the memory they represent. Steve feels that familiar rage begin to bubble in his gut, the wood of his bat creaking under the increasing grip of his fingers. His knuckles sting with how taut his skin is pulled across them, and his jaw aches from how hard he’s clenched it, teeth nearly grinding against one another. The gentle nuzzle against his non-dominant arm pulls him from his single-minded, rage-fueled focus and his eyes dart down to Eddie-monster at his side. Those big eyes look up at him as Eddie-monster coos gently, obvious concern in the soft trill. Steve softens, a smile pulling at his lips from beneath his bandana. He takes a moment to ghost his fingers through the fluffy curls haloing Eddie-monster’s head, a gooey feeling overflowing inside his chest as his monster leans into his barest touch. It feels a lot like respite, a taste of something he doesn’t get much of these days, and it’s oh so welcome.
“Steve! Fuck! Steve!”
Robin’s panicked scream pulls him from his Eddie-shaped distraction and his body tenses as his eyes snap up toward the dive-bombing horde that’s somehow gotten on top of them. He curses himself, instinctively raising his nail bat and getting ready to start swinging to defend them both. He feels the rage burble up in his gut, rising to the surface and begging to be let out, that red haze teasing the edges of his vision but movement in his periphery makes him pause. Eddie-monster tilts his head, glancing up at the swarm and goes utterly still. There’s a long moment where the two of them turn to each other, staring into one another’s eyes. Steve watches as something solidifies in his monster’s mind and then those soft, warm eyes glow red.
Eddie-monster wrenches his gaze away from Steve, moving inhumanly fast on two legs again, not quite fully upright as his wings snap out, shielding Steve completely from the incoming swarm. The muscles in his legs are tense, flexing and matching with his dark-tipped arms. The talons on his hands gleam in the Upside Down haze and a glint catches the light as he moves them, drawing Steve’s eye. Absurdly, that he still has his rings makes Steve laugh quietly under his breath. He’s pulled from his thoughts as Eddie-monster’s tail wraps around Steve’s head, obscuring his vision and completely covering his ears, muffling his hearing almost completely when the swarm is nearly upon them.
He panics immediately. He’s back there again, being dragged down through Lover’s Lake, flung through a gate alone into hell to be eaten alive by monsters. He struggles to breathe, his heartbeat racing in his chest. He frantically reaches up to grab at the appendage, the memories of that demobat tail around his throat rising to the surface and drowning him in terror. He can still remember the pain, the squeeze as his air was cut off, the way his skin began to shred. His hands shake as he clutches at the shockingly strong muscle, fingers slipping around the edges, he can’t get a grip—he can’t go out like this, no, not again—but he freezes when he hears it.
The scream that comes out of Eddie-monster is loud and rings in his head, even through the impromptu protection the tail provides. And it is protection, he realizes. The understanding settles over him like a shroud, calming his racing heart and suddenly he can breathe again. Eddie-monster’s tail is gentle where it wraps around his head, not squeezing or intending to harm him. It’s simply there, blocking his ears and inadvertently his vision. It’s not choking him; it’s not stopping his breath in his throat or cutting off his blood supply. He reaches up and moves the tail slightly away from where it blocks his vision as his heart begins to calm. What he sees when it finally budges that singular inch makes his eyes widen in shock.
Eddie-monster is still making that horrible screaming sound, but nearly every demobat that gets within like, twenty or thirty feet in front of him (and also Steve) is being thrown back, convulsing or just straight up exploding. The ones that don’t get pushed back are torn to shreds by those ink-black talons, dark blood spraying absolutely everywhere. Eddie-monster’s wings shield him from the majority of the spatter, but Steve can imagine what kind of macabre display it would be were he in the midst of it all. Steve rests his hand against the tail, gently tracing his fingers over the surprisingly soft texture of it. The scream finally stops and Steve notices the way Eddie-monster’s wings suddenly ripple as his hunched posture straightens up. One blood red eye glances over a pale, hair-fur covered shoulder and Steve tilts his head in response, hoping that Eddie-monster can tell he’s grateful for the impromptu help. Another visible shudder flows through Eddie-monster’s body and that red gaze seems to gleam with a different emotion, although Steve can’t quite place it. Their locked eyes break apart and Eddie-monster seems to refocus.
This time, it isn’t a scream but a screech and Steve watches in wonder as the remainder of the swarm drops from the sky to fall to the ground with sickening, squelching thuds. Steve can see the way the air around the two of them seems to vibrate with force, the floating spore-like drifting debris of the Upside Down rippling in waves away from them like rocks skipping across the surface of a pond, their impact leaving behind echoes of concentric rings. The screech drags on for nearly a whole minute, and Steve finds himself deeply impressed with Eddie-monster’s lung capacity, wondering if that’s something that carried over from his human life. He’d been in a band, right? Did he sing, too? It would make sense, if his aptitude in his first lease on life translated over to the second. Selfishly, Steve wishes he could get a proper answer from Eddie on the matter, suddenly frustrated at the insurmountable language barrier that’s cropped up between them. He bites the inside of his cheek hard enough to draw blood, punishing himself for such thinking. This isn’t the time, after all.
With the vast majority of the swarm now either dead or debilitated, Steve pats Eddie-monster’s tail, trying to get his attention.
“Hey, Eds, we gotta get to the gate now, man. We need to run for it. The longer we stay here, the more of a target we make, okay? You with me?”
Eddie-monster’s wings resettle against his back and he slumps back to all fours, his tail loosening from around Steve’s head at his words. He turns and staggers against Steve’s side like he’s suddenly exhausted. Steve presses his forehead against Eddie-monster’s and sinks his hands into those soft curly masses of hair-fur, shutting his eyes.
“You did good, Eds. I’m so proud of you.”
The pleased croon Steve gets in reply makes his heart do some funny acrobatics in his chest, but now isn’t the time to examine that. Steve shelves it for later examination, when they’re safely out of the Upside Down.
“Steve!” Robin calls out, “We gotta go! Eddie saved our asses but now we gotta book it!”
“I’m aware, Buckley! C’mon, man, you good to keep moving?”
A determined chirp comes from Eddie-monster’s throat and Steve takes that as confirmation. He keeps his nail bat in hand as he moves quickly alongside Nancy and Robin back to the gate they slipped through. Steve smiles at the soft caress of Eddie-monster’s tail as it snakes its way around his wrist like a prehensile bracelet, holding snugly against the pulse that races beneath thin skin. They move as a group the rest of the way out of the Forest Hills trailer park with little incident, quickly managing to get back to the smaller gate they’d slipped through. Steve finally feels like he can breathe again, like seeing the light at the end of the tunnel after so long in the dark. They’re going to be able to get Eddie out. He lets out a tired laugh, his shoulders sagging as the relief and elation washes over him like a tidal wave. He gets a questioning coo and a headbutt from his monster.
“You guys go ahead, okay? I’m gonna take a second with Eddie.”
Nancy clenches her jaw beneath her medical mask, but she nods and pulls herself through the glowing rift, vanishing from Steve’s eyes. Robin hesitates, eyeing Steve warily.
“You gonna be okay, Dingus? You sure you don’t want me to stay..?”
He smiles at her, loving his platonic with a capital P soulmate with his whole heart, “No, but thank you, Robin. Maybe just keep an eye out for us when we come through, okay?”
She softens at his gentle tone, nodding decisively and awkwardly spider climbing through the rift herself. Steve takes a deep breath and slumps against one of the spindly trees nearby to collect his thoughts and wildly swooping emotions. He shoves his goggles up onto his forehead, pressing his palms into his eyes and exhaling loudly. He’s feeling overwhelmed, all sorts of emotions he doesn’t really know what to do with. On one hand, he’s ecstatic because what started out as a body recovery mission has become a rescue, because Eddie is alive. But on the other hand, Eddie isn’t really human anymore. Eddie is, for all intents and purposes, a monster. He’s probably tied to this godforsaken place. He knows the kids and even Robin and Nancy call him an idiot, but Steve’s observant. He remembers what happened with the demodogs when El cut them off from the Upside Down– how they’d all just dropped dead. He’s terrified that might happen to Eddie when the time comes to close the gates for good. He doesn’t want to put more pressure on El by asking her to find a solution for Eddie when she’s already dedicating so much time to drawing Max out of her coma, but…
Steve can’t lose him again, not when he’s just gotten Eddie back.
He doesn’t even realize he’s crying until he feels the press of something calloused against his face. He blinks his eyes open, coming face-to-face with Eddie-monster’s big hickory-colored eyes, those deadly, taloned thumbs curved down, the knuckles softly brushing away the tears on Steve’s face with a gentleness that makes Steve’s lip quiver and his resolve crumble, threatening to collapse in on itself. How could anyone ever think such a sweet, kind guy was ever capable of murder? Steve takes a trembling breath, squeezing his eyes shut as he fights back the overwhelmed sobs that desperately battle to escape his chest. 
He may have only gotten to truly know the guy for a week, but in that short time, Steve had observed enough about the guy to get a decent read on him. Eddie is brash, bold, in-your-face all the time, making himself the biggest target in the room. He wears his devil-may-care attitude like armor and his counterculture anarchist ideals as a shield, using the “Freak” moniker to arm himself while putting himself in the sights of perceived threats, to take the heat off of those he deems his “sheepies.” Eddie’s got a protective streak that runs almost as deeply as Steve’s own, but the borderline feral way he goes about defending those he considers his is wilder than the practiced, methodical way Steve tends to adopt. Eddie makes himself the threat by being unpredictable, by being wild and loud and impossible to ignore. Steve knows Eddie would go to bat for any of his people, his Hellfire crew and his band, (and now maybe even the Party) because on the inside he cares so deeply that it’s visible from fucking space.
Steve cannot allow him to have his life cut tragically short again. He won’t allow it. Eddie is such an inherently good person, he deserves to have a future– to have people who love him and care for him around him every day. He ought to have the world if he wants it, in Steve’s mind, because hasn’t the guy given enough? Hasn’t he earned the right to a little peace if he wants it? Eddie’s one of Steve’s now, and he’ll be damned if he’s going to let Eddie be lost a second time. He’ll beg El on his knees if he has to, he’ll throw a wrench in the whole plans if the Party refuses to wait to find a solution to make sure Eds doesn’t just drop dead when they close the gates for good. Steve knows he’s not a good person; he’s petty and can be downright bitchy when push comes to shove, but the one thing he does have going for him is that he will never back down when it comes to protecting one of his people, even if it means going against his other people to do it.
Steve’s pulled from his musings by Eddie-monster’s concerned crooning noises, growing louder as his massive frame presses Steve further against the tree. In some ways, the weight of him is grounding, but Steve knows they really don’t have the time to explore that right now. Once he gets the guy home—and maybe into a bath, because Jesus Christ does he really deserve a nice bath after all the time he’s had to spend here in this absolute hellscape—maybe they can experiment on the couch how well Eddie-monster works as a blanket. Steve takes a deep breath, bringing his hands up to push gently against Eddie-monster’s chest, wood-calloused fingers brushing softly against the raggedly torn remnants of Eddie’s Hellfire shirt.
“I’m okay now, man… but thank you for caring,” Steve says softly, patting his hand against his monster’s chest, “we should get going now that I’m not falling apart like a loser.”
Eddie-monster steps back obediently, but makes a low rumbling noise at Steve calling himself a loser and snapping his jaws at Steve’s hand in an empty warning, snorting in disdain.
“Okay, sassafras, yeesh! Can’t a guy be self-deprecating anymore without the peanut gallery chiming in? Fine, I won’t call myself a loser, are you happy now?”
Eddie-monster makes a self-satisfied sounding chirrup, dropping back down to all fours and spinning in a circle in front of Steve, staring up at him with wide hickory eyes like he’s waiting for praise. It’s alarmingly adorable and he doesn’t even try to quell the wave of fondness that rises in his chest. He can quite literally feel his expression melting as he gazes down at his sweet, gentle monster, but he finds that for once, he doesn’t care that he’s wearing his heart on his sleeve. If Eddie-monster figures out that Steve actually likes him– and even liked him as a human back then maybe a little more than was strictly normal between two straight dudes, then so be it. It’s not like Steve’s going to get any chances to act on it, not with Eddie more monster than human, and more than likely in that state permanently.
“Alright,” Steve takes a deep breath after running his fingers through Eddie-monster’s soft curls to bolster his courage, “you ready to get going, man?”
Eddie-monster blinks those double eyelids and flicks his tail, so Steve takes that as a confirmation. He takes another breath and eyes the rift he has to climb through, strengthening his resolve.
“Okay then. Once more unto the breach, or however that shit went…” Steve mutters, “Follow close, don’t lose sight of me! The gates are a lot bigger now!”
He climbs.
He doesn’t bother looking back, knowing that Eddie-monster is following him. Steve feels his presence like a balm on his soul, and it’s only when the gravity shift hits and he stumbles out into right-side-up Hawkins on his feet that he realizes he can’t feel it anymore. He’s dazed for a moment, unseeing and disoriented as he always is after coming through a gate, but the alarm from not feeling his monster’s presence shakes him out of it faster than usual. He whips back towards the gate, but freezes in place as he catches sight of someone in his periphery he didn’t expect to see. 
He turns guiltily, facing down a man he’s come to see as a surrogate father in recent weeks. 
“Uhh, hey there, Hop… fancy seeing you here?”
Nancy and Robin are standing guiltily behind the police chief, Ms. Byers staring him down with that awful I’m not mad I’m just disappointed look that some moms just seem to have down pat. He cringes.
“Harrington,” Hopper growls out, arching a shaggy brow, “Mind telling me what the hell you’re doing, going into the Upside Down with only those two as backup?”
“I–”
“Jim! There’s something in the gate!”
Steve’s body goes rigid with panic at Ms. Byers’ tone, the no-nonsense laced with fear immediately setting off Hopper, the man drawing his gun with speed that makes Steve’s legs tremble. His gut is telling him he needs to act, and act quickly or something very bad is going to happen very fast.
“Wait! No!” he shouts, whipping his head back toward the gate, where he sees the large, dark shape of Eddie-monster about to break through, “don’t shoot him!”
Steve plants his feet in front of Hopper, blocking his view of the gate so he can’t possibly get a shot off. The man all but growls at Steve, and for a moment Steve is worried Hopper is going to just grab him and throw him– he may have been in a Russian prison camp, but even emaciated, Jim Hopper is much larger and stronger than he is. Hopper moves towards Steve, gun still drawn but his finger nowhere near the trigger, and it’s clear he’s about to yell at Steve to get the hell out of the way, but with a sharp inhale, Steve is yanked back off his feet and thuds heavily against a soft-but-solid, lukewarm wall. He blinks as it vibrates and a deep, menacing rumble reverberates in the air around him.
He looks up.
Eddie-monster is curved defensively around him, one arm draped across Steve’s stomach, talons flexing in an aggressive position. He’s not clutching to Steve, like he knows Steve is more than capable of protecting himself but Eddie-monster feels better with him close, beneath his massive, mantled wings. The cold touch of that prehensile tail against his ankle is back, and Steve feels himself relax almost immediately, glancing up at the intimidating presence his monster makes. He smiles, patting Eddie-monster on the chest.
“Hey, hey, bud,” he soothes, “it’s okay, it’s just Hop. He thought something bad was coming through the gate, he didn’t know about you. Shh, c’mere.”
Steve can vaguely hear the indignant sputtering and yelling coming from where the others are standing, but all his focus is on getting his monster to calm down. Eddie-monster drops his red gaze to Steve, letting out a questioning croon as his wings slowly relax from their mantled position. Steve keeps stroking his monster’s chest, but reaches up with his other hand to card his fingers through some of the hair-fur around the sides of Eddie-monster’s face. Red eyes flutter shut and the crooning shifts over into that sub-vocal rumbling pseudo-purr as the giant form begins to melt into Steve’s touch. Within two minutes, Eddie-monster is docile as a contented kitten, his giant body plastered against Steve’s back, nose against his human’s neck, and rumbling away while Steve continues to lavish his monster with affection.
“So,” Steve starts, sheepishly addressing an exasperated Jim Hopper, a bemused Joyce Byers, a resigned Nancy Wheeler, and a cackling Robin Buckley, “um, Eddie’s alive? Surprise?”
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Part One (You are Here!) ||| Part Two
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Follow the #Take Me Home steddie fic tag or me, @hobbyistauthor for updates, or just ask to be tagged! If you're already on the tag list and would like to be taken off, just let me know either in the replies or via DM. I don't bite much.
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chicxsims · 5 months
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𝓝𝓮𝓽𝓽𝓪𝓻𝓲 𝓓𝓲 𝓜𝓪𝓻𝓮
50x50 Built @ Thebe Estate in Tartosa
Nettari Di Mare is a beautiful nectary located in Tartosa. Here, sims can create their own nectar and enjoy a high-quality meal right after, or come in to taste the nectar owned by the restaurant. Nettari Di Mare is revered by locals and celebrities for its fine, aged nectar and is definitely something to add to your sim’s itinerary when visiting Tartosa.
I saw this build by @bojanastarcevic a few months ago and I wanted a restaurant that was similar in style on the exterior. I challenged myself to create it from scratch and fully furnish it in it’s entirety using pins from my Pinterest as inspo. I hadn't planned on uploading, but I've received so much support over on twitter that I decided to upload for those who were interested in it. I’ve also taken inspiration from my mutuals’, @shaymoo22 & @comfys, classy and warm moods. Please go check out their builds if you haven’t seen them, they’re both so incredibly talented!
Credits:
@pinkbox-anye @awingedllama @felixandresims @harrie-cc @kardofe @kerriganhouse @lumenniveus @littledica @my-cup-of-cc @peacemaker-ic @pierisim @sims4nicolesstuff @syboubou @taurusdesign @thejim07 @thetowniearchitect @tudtuds max20
I cannot give enough thanks to the amazing CC creators. This personal project truly would not have been possible without you all. Thank you.
[Download Link & Info Here]
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𝑻𝒊𝒌𝒕𝒐𝒌 | 𝑻𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 | 𝑷𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒕
𝑮𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒓𝒚 𝑰𝑫: 𝑪𝒉𝒆𝒆𝒌𝒚𝑺𝒊𝒎𝒔
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hitlikehammers · 1 month
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feels like home
rating: t ♥️ cw: coming out, softness, recovering from the upside down ♥️ tags: pre-relationship, post-s4, fluff, hurt/comfort, Eddie is having many feelings, the main one being that Steve feels like home, platonic stobbin, supportive platonic soulmates coming out so Eddie feels safe to do the same, injury recovery, still-so-soft
for @steddielovemonth day seventeen: Love is about a hand reaching out to you so you don't get lost (@yournowheregirl)
this definitely takes place chronologically after this one so: have some of these codependent lovebirds as they start to figure their big feelings out ♥️
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It’s weird, and probably unhealthy, that his hospital room—like this—feels kinda like home.
But he thinks it’s okay, to be fair, because it’s not like he thinks this place is home; the smell of antiseptic is still pretty sharp in the air even as he’s gotten disconnected from one machine, drip, or monitor every day until he’s largely free to toddle to the bathroom on his own as long as there’s someone to watch and make sure he doesn’t fall. Wayne’s there for that when he can be, which explains the home associations, but: the rest of the time, in fact—kinda more often than it isn’t?
It’s Steve.
And Eddie struck a deal with himself—no digging in to the fluttery-gooey-warm-chest-squeezy feelings while he’s laid up in a bed—but when he walks around even under supervision, it’s…feeling like he’s cheating.
Plus the feelings are getting kinda…kinda loud.
Because Steve is always there, sometimes he ever stays when Wayne comes, at least for a while. He leaves to keep an eye on the Party, leaves to check up on Max, hits the community hub: but it’s…it’s such a blip of time, honestly, in comparison to being here, with Eddie.
And when he’s gone, it doesn’t…it doesn’t feel at all like home, it feels kinda fucking horrible, so.
Eddie doesn’t even actually have to dig in to that train of thought. It’s pretty fucking clear as-is.
He’s surfacing from kind of, like, a light doze, not even a full on nap, and he’s gentle with the coming-to of it because he can kinda, like, feel Steve’s presence at his side and he’s talking really low anyway, even if he couldn’t, so Eddie definitely knows it’s him, and he could have guessed the other visitor pretty easy even if it wasn’t her voice that was the first to bleed through with actual words:
“She’s,” Robin makes a little stifled whine; “you’ve seen her.”
“Not my type but,” Steve’s saying from next to Eddie; “ I see your point, yeah.”
“She’s like a,” Robin’s voice goes kinda hazy, a little dreamy; “like a fairy creature, or! Or like a prairie woman with those, those hats—“
“A prairie woman who likes boobi—“
“Stop!” Robin hisses low, and Eddie can feel her knock his mattress a little, she must lean over like she wants to enforce her will somehow: “stop stop stop—“
“If you can’t say it you probably shouldn’t be touchin—“ Steve’s saying and god, his voice is so bitching, and Eddie think he kinda fucking lov—
Oh. Oh, well. Shit.
“I’m not touching!” Robin moans, but kinda frantic with it; “the problem is I am not touching!”
And Eddie, too, is not touching the thought he just had about those four fucking letters that are, that, that are—
“Also it’s a gross, immature word,” Robin’s going on and…oh.
Oh.
Okay, so like: even if he’s just kinda in that liminal space of awareness, they have to know he’s more awake than not; his two remaining monitors are different even when he’s calm and just resting, but as the words themselves sink in, now? His heartbeat’s betraying the hell out of him for the staccato it’s pinging on the screen as he processes it: Robin’s showing her cards, though Eddie’d always figured she might be a bird of his feather, but, like—
“Is it though?” Steve’s murmuring low and so, so judgmental; “seems more immature to not say it at all,” and he, he fucking tsks at her, then, and, and—
And then—
Then Steve’s saying words that make no sense at all, like: sure they’re words. In English. Eddie’s very sure of it. So that means he should definitely comprehend them. But…
“You should listen to me, Robs, seriously. I do still like boobies, too. I have insights.”
And Eddie—Eddie’s eyes fly open, he thinks out of shock? That makes the most sense, like he’s startled into full-wakefulness, that tracks as he blinks up at the water-stainer ceiling with his heart in his throat as he tries to find sense in those words, fails, tries again, fucking fails, all as the Corsican Twins cackle over word choice, good god, and then—
“Hey.”
Steve’s grabbing his hand at the wrist and covering it so gently, fucking…cradles it and stories his thumb over the insistent tap of his pulse and meets his eyes, so wide and honest and earnest and if Eddie’s heart wasn’t already primed toward racing it sure as shit would have started just with those eyes on him, and that touch on him, and:
“You okay, man?” and it’s so simple, and Eddie doesn’t fucking know what’s happening on his face, what kind of of shock or terror or something deeper still is seeping from his expression but Steve’s studying him, watching for long seconds that stretch for-fucking-everbefore his jaw squares and his head tiles, something resolute shining through in him and he moves so slowly, lifts Eddie’s hand in his so slowly and Eddie doesn’t even wholly clock what’s happening, let alone that it’s real, as Steve fucking pauses their hands by his lips, so Eddie can feel his breath so warm and he watches, then, waits, and Eddie doesn’t think through what it means when he nods, like it’s not actually a legitimate thought, exactly, he just knows that, that—
Whatever’s happening, and however terrified he thinks he is: he can trust Steve.
Because somehow: Steve’s home.
It’s still fucking earth-shattering when Steve does lean, when his lips brush against the heel of Eddie’s palm, still scrape-covered, and then he reaches just as slow again for Eddie’s cheek to cup, to fucking cradle that, too, and Jesus H. Goddamn Christ—
“You’re safe, Eddie,” is all he says and maybe, maybe Eddie’s reading into it way beyond what he should, but like, it doesn’t feel like Steve’s telling him he’s safe maybe from the lingering threads of a nightmare, or that he’s safe from the government, from the cops, or from the Upside Down coming for them because they all know it’s still fucking coming but Eddie has felt scared of it once, yet, not like this, not here, with—
But Steve’s tone doesn’t just hold that: it’s bigger. He means…
They had to know he wasn’t really asleep, and so, Eddie, Eddie thinks Steve means…
Yeah.
Fuck.
“You’re outta water,” Steve’s saying and Eddie didn’t even notice he’d been reading to pour Eddie a glass from the ever-present pitcher at his bedside then he’s standing, his hand leaving and fuck all if Eddie doesn’t lean into it before he can think twice but Steve just smiles, soft, as he walks out the door.
“We talked about it.”
He turns to Robin almost violently, head kinda snapping her direction with the speed and force he moves with.
“We weren’t gonna hide it from you, but like,” she mashes her lips together, Eddie can see she’s trying to find a way forward with the least possible rambling, but the clearest possible throughway so she can get what she needs to say out, before Steve comes back.
“You shouldn’t feel like you have to,” she hums a little; “be that, you know, open? With us, if you don’t want to,” her eyes are so big and sincere, and Eddie’s pulse is steadying if only slowing by a fraction, but she does help put him at ease, even as she trips a little over the rest: “if you had any thing that was, y’know, kinda private or, something,” she nods to herself and plays with the hem of her shirt: “yeah.”
Eddie nods to himself, and…he can’t, he can’t not ask her, not in this window, because she said they’d talked and if this wasn’t part of it she loves Steve fierce and he could be still a little fresh off death’s door, she’ll still tell him to fuck off if she needs to, so at least there’s that, at least he knows, like, he won’t be allowed to step where he’s not welcome, and—
“I’m,” and fuck, his voice is a mess, he does need a fucking drink but in the absence of one at hand, he clears his throat hard and accepts that consequences of it burning like hell; “he, umm,” Eddie bits his lip and gestures toward the empty door, eyes Robin kinda pitifully: “he said—“
Robin, thank fuck: Robin is merciful, has to see where he’s going, here, and she points to the doorway indicative of who isn’t in it, yet:
“Very both,” she says simply, then point to herself: “very…”
“Boobies?” Eddie suggests and Robin, she just groans.
“Not you too,” and…okay, shit, umm, well—
Eddie… maybe Eddie can be brave. Like, in small doses.
“Actually, ah, I,” he stumbled but then he makes himself take a breath, makes himself try:
“No, not me too,” he says in a rush and looks up at her through his lashes, so fucking vulnerable: “like, very specifically not, me too.”
And she smiles at him so warm and…like, almost welcoming, which is weird but feels, nice? And she pats his arm kinda affectionately and, just—
“Did you decide to take me up on my wisdom so we can actually accept she’s almost definitely into you, and move on to planning your wedding?” Steve slides back in and shuts the door behind him, getting to pouring Eddie some water before he even sits the fuck down.
His fingers brush Eddie’s as he passes it off and, it probably shouldn’t make Eddie all tingly, Steve did kinda kiss his hand? Like, a little?
But that don’t mean shit: Eddie’s all pins and needles and, like, sparkles.
“He’s the only help you’ve got here, Buckley,” Eddie screws his courage up one more time because…because Steve needs to know, too; Eddie wouldn’t put Robin in the position of not knowing whether she can tell her platonic soulmate something, make her keep a secret even by implication but so much bigger that that is, are—
All the things he doesn’t want to poke at, or dig up and examine, that he’s dodging on the excuse of convalescence: all those things taken into account: he trusts Steve. He feels…so much for Steve already, and he feels weirdly sure that whatever happens next, those feelings are only gonna find ways to grow, so—
Steve has to know, not just because Eddie thinks he suspects it, but because Eddie tells him—because it’s….’cause it’s Steve.
“Feels like it’d be foolish not to take the man up on the offer when he’s definitely the expert in the room,” Eddie pushes on, awkward but determined; “seeing as I don’t, umm, know about,” and his eyes flicker to Robin for a second, before they land on Steve to finish:
“About boobies.”
And Steve does say anything, doesn’t look any way save how he’d looked before: calm, and mostly-relaxed, and right next to Eddie, and Eddie’s eyes drop from Steve’s face and find the collar of his shirt, the peak of hair from in between and, shit, shit, he’s talking about tits and then there’s Steve’s chest hair and holy fucking wow he is staring:
“Umm, I mean,” and fucking fuck, now he’s talking—
“Like, not that kind, at least,” and then he forces his eyes down to the sheets over his lap and considers if it’s possible to dissolve into cotton if it’s startchy and uncomfortable as shit, and you happen to be mortified enough to sink into the fucking threads.
But then; then there’s Steve.
Because of fucking course there’s Steve.
And Steve?
Steve takes his cup from him when he could easily have leaned to put it down himself, but then Steve replaces the cup in Eddie’s grip with his own warm hand, like a tether, like a lifeline, like a…
Like a promise.
And when the conversation turns toward strategizing Robin’s approach for Vickie, Eddie’s, he, he just…
He’s home, y’know?
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tag list (comment to be added): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch @perseus-notjackson
♥️
divider credit here
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Let me introduce you Dana "I've quit the FBI and become a spokesperson for the Ab Roller" Scully and Fox "I'm not wearing any pants right now" Mulder.
Mulder and Scully deep in their thoughts and not listening to the other through the seasons.
The X Files 4x02 // 7x17
Find other parallels here.
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hucklebucket · 9 months
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🔪
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guardian-angle22 · 9 months
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Tarlos Wedding Celebration Event [Week 6] -> favorite outfit(s)-> Carlos
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matchalovertrait · 2 months
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Suguru Geto ♥ This is my tragic king from Jujutsu Kaisen #GetoApologistForLife.
♡ 01. t-shirt / jeans / converse / headphones
♡ 02. turtleneck / trousers / boots / watch
♡ 03. top + leather jacket / jeans / boots (moschino pack)
♡ 04. hoodie / jeans / sneakers
♡ 05. coat + turtleneck / jeans / boots / gloves (base game)
♥ hair / earplugs / nails ♥
Thank you to all cc creators! @aladdin-the-simmer @gorillax3-cc @its-adrienpastel @jius-sims @joliebean @lazyeyelids @miro-sims @pralinesims @saurusness @serenity-cc @woosteru
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milkemie · 6 months
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miffy waffle maker (functional)
This is my first time making build-and-buy cc! I slightly edited the original mesh of the waffle maker~
♡ 16 swatches ♡ HOME CHEF HUSTLE stuff pack required ♡ Feel free to make recolors
DOWNLOAD FREE ON PATREON : HERE
Follow me on Tiktok, Twitter, and YouTube ♡
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simnematographygj · 1 year
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White Birch Cottage
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More pictures of this build you can find in my Instagram.  
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Small family cottage kinda ready for Christmas :D
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No-CC (finaly, lol)
20x15 lot (perfect for Henford-on-Bagley)
2 bedrooms, 1 bathroom
Playtested with bb.moveobjects jurned on but, well, yeah, in this game what worked once can stop working next time
Required DLC:
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Download: Patreon (Early Access) | Gallery (only regular version will be uploaded to the Gallery after early access expires)| Public access: January, 19
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@maxismatchccworld
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dailyats · 14 days
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3.16 Sleep Tight | 4.22 Home Angel [1999 - 2004]
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javatrait · 6 months
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Current Household Update!
Nadine & Keegan have been busy busy. Keegan just got promoted to Project Manager in the tech career so they are bring in more money. Nadine decided not to go the expensive route with Nursing School and instead went back to her high school job at the local coffee shop Part time as a barista in the mornings. That has allowed her time to up her cooking skills. She is going the entrepreneur route & betting on herself and her cooking by selling her food everyday at two locations in town. Keegan stops by everyday after work to help Nadine run her stalls. My girl is actually doing really good lol. Nadine and Keegan hosted their first Harvest fest and my girl pulled out all her best recipes. Of course Keegan's mom tried to use the new waffle maker and caught on fire so there went a chunk of their savings.
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hobbyistauthor · 1 month
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4 ▰▱▰▱ Take Me Home (Please Stay With Me) ▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱
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"came back wrong" post-s4 fanfiction, featuring monster kas!eddie. pre-steddie -> steddie, minors DNI please, even if this particular installment is fairly tame.
Part One ||| Part Two ||| Part Three ||| Part Four (You are Here!) ||| Part Five
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Steve stares at the shower, hands on his hips—heaves a long sigh. Hand to god, he’s considering just throwing himself out the window again. Steve’s not sure how he’s going to survive this. He turns to look back over his shoulder at his ever-present shadow, staring up at him with those big, sad eyes from where he’s been banished just outside the door.
He thinks back to how the hell he got here…
Waking up to all seven-plus-feet of his hungry monster hovering over him is an experience, to say the least. He’s hardly conscious enough to squint at the clock on the mantle, barely reading out the 11:00 from beneath the hands. It’s only been about five and a half hours since he fell asleep, and he’s still exhausted—regardless of the fact that it’s been the best sleep he’s gotten in a long while. He groans and tries to roll over to wallow in his despair, but his monster has him pinned. 
Grumbling and bringing his hands up to shove at the very bare chest of this morning-beast-person-thing, Steve gets a long lick up the side of his face as a morning greeting instead; his bumbling goof of a beastling nosing at his chin and neck with quick little bumps as he tries to urge Steve up and moving. Unfortunately for Eddie-monster, Steve takes after his mom in the mornings. He blinks sluggishly up at his eager beastie, his hands sliding up over shoulders and sinking sleepy fingers into Eds’ thick, chocolate-colored curls where he firmly tugs his fistfuls as a reprimand. Like an off-switch, Eddie-monster instantly crumples to Steve’s side, throat bared as he whines, limbs boneless.
“I can’t go back to sleep once I get up, man,” Steve grumbles, “you gotta have better sleepover etiquette.”
Eds writhes against the pillows and blankets, exposing his belly and flaring his wings. His eyes grow wet and sparkling, and even grumpy morning-Steve isn’t immune to them. He sighs and loosens his hold, carding his fingers through the soft strands soothingly. Eddie-monster immediately rolls onto his front, and crawls along the floor to rest his big head on Steve’s chest, tongue darting out to drop a kitten lick of apology against Steve’s jaw with a quiet crooning sigh. Huffing out an exasperated breath, Steve rakes one hand through messy, chocolate-hued hair-fur, ruffling his monster’s curls roughly. Eddie-monster presses up into the touch, chirping and purring with all his familiar happy noises.
“Alright, alright, bud. I forgive you, but don’t do that again. I don’t usually get sleep this good, you know. I gotta treasure it when I do.”
Hickory eyes blink back, a flash of understanding there and gone in a moment from within their wide depths, betraying the human intelligence laying deep beneath the animal facade. Steve stretches, his joints clicking and popping as he yawns. He figures he’s got enough time to make breakfast and clear the mess, clean up the living room nest, and maybe catch a shower before Mr. Munson shows up at two. He’s also got to figure out how to explain this to Eds, as well. Steve gets to his feet, scratching at his stomach as he climbs over the pillow wall to head into the kitchen. He pauses at the threshold, looking back over his shoulder and raising an eyebrow at his monster still halfway buried under blankets and surrounded by soft things. He turns around.
“Well? You got me up,” Steve says, gesturing at himself widely with his hands before letting them rest high on his hips. He lets some of that “bitchy Mom tone”—as Robin likes to call it—slip into his voice, “you might as well come see if you can help me with breakfast, then. Or at least keep me company, you big slug.”
With a sheepish sounding chirr, Eds’ ears droop, the blanket draped haphazardly over his mane of hair-fur flopping down across his forehead like some strange version of the Virgin Mary from a Renaissance painting. The big gremlin gives a great shimmy, dislodging the blankets with a soft flumph sound. He's surprisingly graceful as he makes his way to Steve’s side, where he rubs his cheeks and shoulders against the skin of Steve’s waist that’s been left exposed between the top of his basketball shorts and the cropped Bowie tee. Ruffling his monster’s mane affectionately, Steve heads into the kitchen. It’s a little late in the morning for an actual breakfast, but brunch isn’t so bad. He’s feeling like a bagel sandwich would probably hit the spot, but he’ll have to see what kind of meats he’s got on hand that he can cook up for Eds.
From what he remembers, Eds had avoided more of the carb-heavy parts of his dinner—like the potatoes—and stuck primarily to the proteins and some of the less-starchy vegetables. He’d probably be okay with eggs then, and fats didn’t seem to bother him, considering how little he’d seemed to mind the butter and olive oils on the vegetables. Steve gathers his own breakfast building materials as he ponders his fridge and pantry inventory. Bread is probably a no-go for Eds, but maybe some sausages or bacon and eggs would go over well? He pauses for a long moment, blinking slowly as he realizes he might have the ingredients for a favored dish he’d learned from one of his old nannies’ recipes, left tucked into one of the dust-ridden cookbooks he’d started rifling through after he’d turned fifteen. 
A quick check reveals all his ingredients are on hand, and delightedly, Steve starts prepping their respective breakfasts with a bounce in his step. He really loves shakshuka, and he hopes Eddie-monster will enjoy the savory dish, too. It won’t be a true shakshuka, since he’s adding meat to it, but he’s hoping it’ll still be just as delicious. He glances surreptitiously at Eddie-monster as he cooks; his beast has laid himself out on the floor alongside the kitchen island and as Steve bustles about, his thoughts flashback to dinner. He’d put garlic in the vegetables, hadn’t he? And it hadn’t been harmful? Thankfully, Eds seems fine this morning, so the whole possibly-a-weird-mutant-vampire theory that has been brewing in the back of his mind probably is incorrect since garlic seems to be ineffective on him. 
Small mercies, it is, and Eddie-monster devours his shakshuka with delighted enthusiasm. Before Steve’s even finished with his breakfast bagel, his monster is licking his plate clean, gingerly holding it up to his face so his tongue can get every last bit. When he presents it to Steve with a pleased chirp, it’s pristine and completely devoid of any trace of leftover food. If Steve hadn’t watched him slobber all over it, he’d have thought he’d actually washed it, it’s so clean. 
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After breakfast and subsequent clean-up, Steve sets about tidying the house for their imminent guest. He still hasn’t figured out how to tell Eddie-monster that his uncle is going to be coming by, and that he is going to need to be extra careful with him. Mr. Munson isn’t read-in on the whole… Upside Down, Government conspiracy shit, but according to what Steve’s managed to eke out of Dustin, the guy’s sharper than a tack and has more than a healthy suspicion that there’s more going on in Hawkins than what they’re feeding the public. Steve’s pretty sure the guy’s been to war, something about Wayne Munson just screams veteran to him and he can’t explain why. Maybe it’s the way he’s got that same haunted look in his sad eyes that Steve’s seen in Hop’s since he’s come back from Russian soil. 
Steve feels a deep-rooted need to impress the guy. He’s relatively sure that Mr. Munson isn’t fond of his dad, but his mom is fairly well liked, so hopefully that means Steve himself is more neutral territory? Well, he had basically said over the phone that he’s going to give Steve the benefit of the doubt for now, so. Goddamn, Steve feels more nervous about meeting this man properly than he’s ever felt about meeting a girlfriend’s parents in his life. His palms feel sweaty as he takes out the trash and sweeps the kitchen floor. By the time he’s moved on to the living room, he’s worked himself into a full-blown cleaning frenzy. 
Robin and Dustin have seen him like this only a few times before, Robin likes to make fun of him, calls him a WASP mom. Dustin mocks him relentlessly right along with her. They’ve made a game of it, throwing out lines of things they think he would say if he were actually a middle-aged rich stay at home mom trying to impress their guests.
“If you haven’t made your bed, throw it away! It’s too late to make it now!” “Get rid of the couches! We can’t let people know we SIT!” “We need more pillows! I need those things looking plumped! I need those things looking fluffed!” “This is a dish towel! We need a hand towel! What are we, barbarians!?”
He’s- he’s 85 percent sure he’s never said any of those things before, but they’re the four favorites of Robin and Dustin’s rotation of phrases. Then again, he definitely goes into a bit of a fugue state when he gets like that, as though he’s actually been possessed by the spirit of some dead housewife out to achieve a perfectly clean house in the most deranged manner possible. Anyway, it’s weird and he owns it at this point, teasing be damned. 
Eddie-monster has been following him as he’s been cleaning, staying mostly out of his way but Steve has felt his hickory eyes on his back the whole time. He’s not unused to being watched, so it isn’t hard to just ignore the staring and continue on with his tasks. In a way, the focus his monster has on him is nice—a reminder that to someone, Steve is the most important person in the room, the most interesting part of their day. It makes a little flame of warmth flicker in his chest, and a smile ticks at the corners of his mouth as he starts to dismantle the nest. He’s stacked half of the pillow wall neatly beside the fireplace, having moved on to folding the blankets, quilts, and comforters when Eddie-monster settles in next to him, sitting awkwardly on his rear and gingerly picking up a quilt with clumsy, talon-tipped fingers. Steve pauses his rapid, methodical folding to watch as his monster’s pink tongue pokes out from between his lips and over-large fangs as he focuses on trying to fold the quilt like he’s watched Steve do.
Slowly, those large, taloned hands make the right folds, gingerly creasing the fabric and crossing over one another until he holds a well-formed, if slightly-lopsided square-folded blanket between them. Fondness grabs hold of Steve’s heart and squeezes as his monster’s face lights up, big eyes sparkling with joy as an excited squeaky chirp escapes his throat. He wiggles in place, nearly tripping over his own awkwardly-shaped legs to proudly present the blanket to Steve. The moment that hangs between them feels charged, and Steve just knows that somehow, if he accepts this blanket from his monster, it will mean more than just the action implies. What that more is, he has no idea. But… Steve really doesn’t care. He smiles, knows his heart is once again plainly displayed on his face, and cups his own much smaller hands by comparison around his sweet creature’s, gently taking the quilt from his hold. The way Eds blinks in surprise before drifting into Steve’s space like a moth to a flame, purring happily with a delighted expression on his inhuman face, tells Steve that he’s made the right choice.
He presses his palm against the soft skin of Eddie-monster’s cheek, running his thumb tenderly against the ridge of his cheekbone and smiling affectionately at his wildling. 
“You did a great job folding, sweet thing.”
Steve moves his hand and ruffles it through Eds’ curly bangs. When he pulls back, Steve struggles to bite back the chuckle that rises in his throat at the gobsmacked look on his sweet face. Steve takes a moment to enjoy the deep flush in his monster’s ears that seem to have spread down his throat and across his muzzle. His already huge eyes have gone even wider and darker where they stare up at Steve, double eyelids rapidly blinking his surprise. His wings ripple and shiver where they sit against his back, and Steve even spots goosebumps that rise across his exposed skin. He wonders if he should turn down the A / C, but decides it would be counterproductive, considering there’s supposed to be another final summer heat wave at the beginning of next week. 
“You’re getting better at wielding those daggers of yours,” he says, “Thank you for the help.”
Steve likes to think he’s been getting good at reading his monster’s expressions, and the bashful, embarrassed look on Eds’ face is no exception. Big talon-tipped hands go up in a very familiar, very human gesture—tugging a few locks of chocolate-colored curls in front of Eddie-monster’s muzzle, a quiet chirring sounding softly from his throat as he sways in place while his tail wraps around him, curling and uncurling with small, fluttering motions. He keeps making eye contact with Steve and then looking away quickly. It makes him look like a shy schoolgirl with a crush, if giant seven-foot-plus monsters could be schoolgirls with crushes, as absurd as the idea is. 
Steve chuckles quietly to himself as he sets the blanket his monster folded so carefully to the side with the others, moving on to the next one. Eds seems to take it as a cue shortly thereafter, following suit and carefully grabbing another quilt to fold. His motions are just as cautious and slow as the first attempt at folding he’d made, his expression of concentration identical as he works his way through a much smaller number of blankets and quilts than Steve, eagerly presenting Steve with each of his successes in the same manner as the first. Steve accepts every single one, and every time that stunned expression of awe and delight takes up residence on his monster’s face again. The satisfaction that comes with eliciting such an expression is endless, and Steve’s fondness for his Eddie-monster is overflowing.
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Together, it doesn’t take them very long to clean up the nest. Steve makes the executive decision to leave the blankets and pillows downstairs, just in case Eddie-monster needs another night sleeping together. Steve wouldn’t be opposed—honestly Steve is kind of hoping he wants another night in their nest, considering how well he’d slept wrapped in his monster’s embrace once he’d finally settled. That’s one thing he really appreciates about this dynamic that’s building between them. It’s plainly evident that Eddie-monster is the bigger of the two of them; that Eds is the stronger one, and yet he never once assumed Steve needed protecting. Even in the Upside Down, when they’d needed to face down the demobat swarm, he’d stepped up only because they’d been in dire straits and he’d had the means to turn the tides. And when they’d passed through the rift back to the right side up Hawkins, faced down with Hop and Joyce, he’d simply taken on a threat display and pulled Steve to him but left him open to defend himself. 
Eds is bigger and physically stronger, the monstrous one between the two of them—and yet he still turns to Steve for protection in all the ways that matter. He seeks out Steve for comfort, for shelter when he feels scared. He’d crawled into Steve’s lap when he was afraid, back in the Upside Down, and hated to stray too far from him ever since. Coming topside, he’s stuck close to Steve’s side like glue and when he’s felt unsure or unmoored, he’s turned to Steve for guidance, to Steve to be his anchor in the storm. Waking from nightmares, from terrors that haunt him even after escaping from hell, he immediately presses his nose to Steve’s neck and inhales, as though the scent of him will keep the demons at bay. It’s a heady feeling, and Steve feels a little drunk on it sometimes, knowing how much his monster needs him and how closely he’s chosen to tie himself to Steve. Because it has to have been a choice, Steve had only done what any decent person would have done: he’d just tried to bring him home, and Eddie had recognized him as familiar, as safe. As home.
It’s… dizzying.
There are some fears there, with Mr. Munson coming to visit. Mr. Munson is Eddie’s actual family, after all. There’s a chance that he’ll want to fly the nest, so to speak, and go with his uncle rather than stay here with Steve. And… well, if that’s what he wants to do, then. Well- Well, then Steve won’t stop him. It might be hard for Mr. Munson to adjust to caring for a newly-monstrous nephew at first, but Steve will do whatever he can for them once his trust kicks in. He’d promised to take care of Eddie, after all. He’s not going to go back on his word, even if he might no longer want to live here with him. That’s what they do, all of them in this fucked up Upside Down gang of theirs—they take care of their own, and Eddie is one of them now, and Mr. Munson by proxy, too. He knows he’s putting the cart before the horse, with all the what-ifs and thinking about his monster up and leaving him alone in his big house again, but he can’t help his fear of abandonment when it rises to the surface like this. A selfish part of him wishes his monster had just imprinted on him permanently, all raw animal instinct as though the human Eddie still inside didn’t get a say in any of his monster’s decisions. Of course, that would mean his monster wouldn’t be his monster anymore, but. The brain is a funny thing.
Steve herds the big lug up onto one of the couches, bidding him to stay put so he can break out the Hoover. Eddie-monster watches with big, curious eyes as Steve wrestles with the cords, wrangling them into something less tangled before he plugs it in. Funnily enough the second he does, his silly monster recoils with a loud hiss, scrambling lightning speed onto the back of the couch where he perches like a pissed off cat, glaring hatefully at the vacuum as Steve cleans the living room carpet. He clings to the upholstery as though if he lets go, it will mean instant death and Steve can’t help but find the whole thing absolutely hilarious. Steve keeps going back over towards the couch, even though he knows the carpet is fine over there, just to watch his monster’s hackles rise and hear his disgruntled yowls that wouldn’t sound out of place coming from a cat in heat. He doesn’t press too much, just quick little approaches before retreating, and it isn’t long before the whole living room is done. 
When he returns from putting the vacuum back in the hallway closet he pulled it out of, Eds is slowly descending the couch, casting disgruntled looks Steve’s way as he finally gets back on the carpet. Steve feels a flare of guilt and sheepishly drags a hand through his hair, reaching out slowly towards his monster. He strokes his fingers across the arch of one of his long ears, eliciting a shudder and a soft squeak; his monster’s wings jolting with the touch. Steve sinks his hand into the mane of chocolate curls, kneading his fingertips into the skin around the base of his monster’s ears, massaging in firm circles. With a mewling sound, his gentle beast melts against him, turning to putty and pressing against his exposed thighs as his pretty, sparkling Bambi eyes flutter shut beneath criminally long lashes. Steve can’t tear his gaze away from where they lay, dark against the pale skin of his cheekbones and delicate like a butterfly’s wings. 
He really is so beautiful, isn’t he? All that noise, presence, and chaos wrapped up in such a sweet, precious package that Steve can’t help but treasure.
“Alright, my little riot…” Steve murmurs, “I’ve gotta take a shower, okay? I only wiped down yesterday, and I still feel like I’ve got Upside Down gunk on me somehow.”
At the use of the new nickname, he feels when Eddie-monster shivers from where he’s pressed against Steve, a tiny whimper slipping from his throat as a now-familiar flush returns in full force. Humming, Steve strokes his monster’s cheek with the back of his hand before brushing curls off his forehead and tracing fingertips feather-light along the planes of his face. He leans into every touch Steve gives him, the noises wrenched from his chest happy and soft, floaty in a way he hasn’t heard since they were in the guest bedroom the other day—when Steve asked Eds to be a good boy for him. Everything he’s getting from his monster right now seems to be positive, all stemming from that new nickname, so he’ll have to keep using that one as a reward, won’t he? Reinforcement, right? Steve raises a subtle eyebrow and makes a mental note about the reaction.
“And when I’m done, we’re gonna have to talk about something really important, okay? It’s nothing bad, I promise, but it’s really, really important that you take it seriously and are on your very best behavior, okay?”
Eddie-monster chirps in reply, tilting his head to the side and blinking up at Steve with a gaze that’s slowly clearing. Understanding flashes in those Bambi eyes before they’re once again clouded over from Steve’s continued stroking of his hair. He nuzzles further into Steve’s touches, rumbling sub-vocal purring vibrating from deep in his chest announcing his pleasure.
“Okay, good… so you’ll stay here while I go do that.” 
And instead of getting a calm response like he’d hoped, what Steve gets is a full blown seven-plus-foot armful of panicked, warbling monster, climbing him as though he’s trying to burrow his way into Steve’s skin. He barely manages to stay upright, his knees buckling under the weight of his monster—who’s started nosing at Steve’s jaw, nipping at the skin there and licking long wide stripes up the suddenly-racing, throbbing pulse beneath the skin. The sharp pin-pricks of Eddie-monster’s claws are the only thing keeping Steve grounded as his senses are assaulted from multiple angles, his beast seemingly determined to send him off the deep end.
Despite his best efforts, there seems to be no convincing his stubborn beast to wait in the hallway while Steve showers. Alone. In privacy. Steve tried to appeal to the human side he knows his monster has, buried deep beneath all the animal instinct that’s taken the wheel. It hasn’t seemed to work. 
“Look, Eds, we… showering is private, man,” he stutters out, hand on one hip and awkwardly running his other though his hair. He can’t even look at his monster right now; just talking about this is so embarrassing. It’s one thing for Steve to be the caretaker, it’s kind of his thing at this point, he’s The Party mom—second mom after Joyce, of course—and he genuinely enjoys looking after those he cares about. 
“I just don’t really want you—or anyone—watching me like that, y’know?” He scuffs his foot against the floor, chewing on the inside of his cheek. He hates to admit this, but it probably needs to be said. “S’ vulnerable.”
For a drawn out moment, he thinks maybe he’s gotten through to him; that he’s finally broken through the layers of the wildling and gotten down to the human at the core. He sighs quietly, relief welling in his gut short lived as it’s only to be quashed violently and with extreme prejudice by the soft clicking of talons on the floor, the shifting of fabric, and the tiny, broken sound he hears coming from Eddie-monster. Steve freezes, his head snapping back towards him so fast for a moment he wonders if it's possible to give himself whiplash. His eyes widen at the sight that greets him as he finally sees what his words and behaviors have done to his fragile, wild, little riot.
His monster looks devastated. His Bambi eyes overflowing with tears, fractured whimpers and halting, burbling cries spilling from his throat as he curls in on himself. He looks so small, so vulnerable and afraid in a way that feels so wrong that Steve feels nausea replace the relief swirling in his gut so fast it makes his head spin. His throat is tight with emotion, and he swallows around the lump that forms while his heart breaks into tiny, irreparable shards. He’s done this—he’s somehow put this look on his wonderful, dearest monster’s face. Steve has somehow made him think he isn’t wanted; he’s somehow made Eds believe that Steve would—is actually—rejecting him in some way.
He can’t allow this. Not when it’s such a blatant lie—a complete misunderstanding—in every possible way.
“Wait! No, Eds,” Steve jolts forward, practically falling to his knees before Eddie-monster, cupping his face between calloused palms, “ohh, my sweet boy,” he murmurs, pressing his forehead to his monster’s.
His thumbs gently wipe away the fat tears that have gathered and rolled down Eddie-monster’s cheeks, “Eds, don’t misunderstand, please,” he murmurs, “I’m not saying I don’t want you around, that I don’t want you with me as long as you want to be here…”
Steve sighs, “But I need privacy for some things, and showering is one of them. I want you with me always, my favorite little riot,” he assures, tenderly pressing a kiss beneath one eye, “So maybe we compromise, hm? I need my privacy, but you want to be near me, so... how about you wait in the guest bedroom, if downstairs is too far away for now?”
Eds lets out a petulant-sounding whine, high pitched and slightly warbling, clearly still distressed. He thankfully seems more secure in the fact that Steve isn’t rejecting him–far from it, in fact–but he also seems to be struggling immensely with the idea of privacy. He knows the bestial nature has the reins but it’s clearly more in control than he’d realized. Human intelligence or not, human logic means nothing in the face of instinct, it seems. Steve sighs again, hanging his head.
“No? How about in my bedroom, outside my bathroom door?”
Eddie-monster growls, pitching a fairly-tame version of an unholy fit and using his bulk to shove Steve back against the couch as he nips and paws pitifully at Steve’s bare thighs. Steve tries to bat him gently away while attempting to come up with another alternative as his monster keeps biting at the hem of his shorts, clearly intent on keeping Steve from wiggling free from his much-stronger hold. Honestly, his monster’s tactics work better than Steve wants to let on—Eds has some impressive jaw strength; he damn near yanks those too-small shorts right off of Steve a few times, which is a feat considering they barely fit over his thighs, let alone his ass. Steve barks a laugh as Eds nearly manages to yank his shorts off again, both exasperated and charmed by the big lug’s goofy behavior.
“Alright, alright! You made your point!” Steve laughs, pushing both his hands into his monster’s face and shoving back, trying to get some space between those chompers and his poor shorts. Thankfully, his beastie grants him a reprieve and stares up at Steve playfully between the gaps in Steve’s fingers, his long tail flicking in his playful amusement. Steve feels warm, relieved that Eds isn’t looking so devastated anymore—clearly he’s succeeded in convincing Eddie-monster’s primal side he’s not planning on rejecting him any time soon. He’d never reject him, if Steve’s willing to be honest with himself. He takes a breath.
“How,” he pauses and licks his lips, “how about this? I’ll leave the bathroom door open if you promise to sit outside of it. That way you can see into the bathroom if you need to check on me, but I still get some illusion of privacy? Can that work for you?”
Steve is praying this will be amenable. If he has to resort to showering with his monster in the room with him, there’s no telling what his traitorous dick will do with how badly his pervert brain is behaving lately, and that’s just not on. He can’t risk popping a boner anywhere his monster can see, because knowing how few boundaries the sweetheart has right now, he might get curious or there could be lines crossed that Steve can never come back from. He’s also a bit terrified of how interested his dick is in the possibility of Eddie-monster wanting to see Steve’s dick, too. He knows how long that tongue of his is, would it be able to curl all the way around—NO. Stop it, nope. Do Not Pass Go, do not collect 200 dollars. Jail, Jail for a thousand years, we’re not doing this today, dammit! 
Eddie-monster gets a pensive look on his face, dark Bambi eyes searching Steve’s own for a long while. Eventually, he breaks the tense silence by leaning in close and pressing his muzzle up against Steve’s jaw, cooing his agreement as he noses closer. A contented rumble vibrates through his bare chest with such fervor that Steve can feel it almost as strongly as his own heartbeat beneath his ribs. The sheer bulk of his monster spread out over him ought to be comical, but it just feels comforting and warm in a way that has absolutely nothing to do with temperature. Steve can’t help the smile that pulls across his lips, fondly brushing some of Eddie-monster’s hair-fur away from his face and nuzzling back.
“You’re okay with that then, sweetheart?” he murmurs, not quite ready to break the moment yet. He’s contentedly basking in the feeling of safety he’s currently swimming in from where he lays half sprawled beneath his behemoth wild thing, ensconced between massive arms and shoulders that make Steve feel small and treasured—things he’s entirely unused to experiencing firsthand, but are not unwelcome. Nothing wrong with being the little spoon, after all. Hell, sometimes it’s nice to be the little spoon, no questions asked. He never seemed to get that often from previous bedmates… even if Eds isn’t technically a bedmate.
A nestmate, maybe?
He shakes away the thoughts, trying to refocus.
He really does feel pretty grimy, all things considered. He probably stinks to high heaven, but maybe the animal part of Eddie-monster likes that? They’ve been all in each other’s space for the past twenty four hours, and Eds has been rubbing on Steve every chance he gets. That’s like… scent marking, right? Like cats do with their cheeks? His monster is ambiguously animal in nature, despite the distinctly bat-like appearance, so there’s really no telling what kind of behaviors he’s going to have. Steve’s just going to assume he’s got a deep seated need to mark Steve as “his territory” on some instinctive level and definitely not think further on the subject, because that way lay Danger, Will Robinson—that’s a place that bad-horny-brain Steve does not need to go. He desperately needs to wash his hair, and his skin will definitely break out if he doesn’t go through that meticulous five step regimen his mom’s favorite dermatologist put together for him when he turned sixteen, so despite wanting to just stay enveloped in his monster’s comforting presence, he gently pushes him off and stands up.
Steve moves slowly, allowing his sweet wild thing to stay close to him as he ascends the stairs to his room. His ensuite is the smallest of all the upstairs baths, having a shower stall and no tub, but it suits his needs perfectly. Steve will occasionally indulge in a bath if he feels the need to soak—epsom salts are a gift from god and no one can convince him otherwise, it’s a fool’s errand. There’s been nothing better than a good salt soak when his muscles scream in protest after a long, hard workout or a week of battling nightmare fuel hell-creatures, but otherwise he prefers the convenience of a shower and the immediate feeling of cleanliness that comes with it. Plus, he’s got two shower heads, and that in his opinion is peak luxury. Steve sighs happily at the thought of that glorious water pressure pounding against his shoulders and running down his tense back. Fuck, it’ll be bliss.
A cold nose bumps his palm, a quiet chirr of question dragging him from his thoughts. He pauses, realizing he must have sighed out loud for his monster to be looking at him with so much concern in his wide hickory eyes. Steve smiles and ruffles his hand through those cute, messy curls and taps a gentle boop against his monster’s nose. It’s adorable to watch the precious beast go cross-eyed staring at the tip of his muzzle, the appendage twitching once, twice, before he lets out an unfairly cute sneeze, shaking himself out afterwards with a disgruntled look up at Steve. He has to bite back a chuckle as he slings the clean towel he’s grabbed over one arm and takes a steadying breath.
… which brings him back here.
With purposeful strides Steve heads into the ensuite, flicking on the light and turning on the ventilation fan. The sudden noise clearly startles Eddie-monster, but not enough for him to panic. He follows Steve into the bathroom but pauses a few steps in, hovering in the doorway and watching as Steve opens the glass shower door to turn on the water. Steve glances over his shoulder, smiling tenderly at his hesitant, unsure beast. He leans out of the frosted glass enclosure and makes his way over to the timid-looking monster hovering in the threshold, crouching down in front of him. With all the gentle affection he has, Steve cups his monster’s face in his palms and presses their foreheads together, the soft texture of his sweetheart’s bangs brushing like silk against his skin. 
“Thank you for remembering I asked for privacy, little riot,” he says soothingly, “you’re so good for me, aren’t you?”
A shiver races through his monster’s frame so violently Steve feels it coming like the swell and crash of a wave under his fingertips, a wavering, mewling whine stutters out of a flushed throat. Steve pulls back from Eddie-monster, awed at the blissed out expression on his inhuman face. He’s a vision with his hooded eyes, hickory darkened to something richer and glistening with wetness. The gorgeous pink flush has traveled all the way down to his chest, blooming between his pectorals and intermingling with the pale scar tissue. He sways into Steve’s orbit as though he’s helpless to resist his pull—a meteor trapped in his gravitational pull, unafraid to burn up in the atmosphere if it means he can be closer to the planet at the center. Steve feels a blush of his own burn in his ears, heating his cheeks and down his neck as he smolders under the worshipful gaze of his monster. He clears his throat.
“Now, remember our compromise? I leave the door open for you if you stay in my bedroom?”
Eddie-monster croons in response, his tongue darting out to pass a tiny kitten lick against Steve’s pulse point where he’s still loosely cradling his sweet boy’s head between his hands. It’s as good an agreement as any in what Steve’s coming to understand of Eddie-monster’s language, and he presses a swift, heartfelt kiss against Eds’ forehead to express his gratitude and affection. He’s rewarded with a blissed out sounding sigh, the entire seven-foot-plus bulk of his monster slumping dreamily against the doorframe, gazing up at Steve when he pulls away and stands back up. He looks boneless and satisfied and Steve almost considers just letting him stay there, but he’d set a boundary and he’s got to stick to those so Eds doesn’t develop any bad habits.
“Alright, you big slug,” he teases, “off you go, little riot. I’ll be right here, and I’ll leave the door open just a crack for you.”
Eddie-monster slowly pulls himself out of his daze, anxiety settling back behind his hickory eyes as reality comes crashing back in around him. Steve waits patiently, what he hopes is a kind smile on his face as he watches his monster crawl out of the bathroom, parking himself just outside the door and doing his best to try not to appear interested in the goings-on of the ensuite. He’s failing horribly, and it’s so endearing Steve feels like his heart grows three sizes.
He turns back to the shower, resolutely ignoring his voyeur, and checking the temperature. Thankfully, it’s ready for him so he strips with efficiency and leaps in after draping the towel over a hook just within reach of the frosted glass door for easy retrieval. He can’t help the quiet moan that escapes him when he steps under the spray; the water pressure is divine and he practically feels his soul ascend. There’s a questioning, concerned chirr he hears over the sound of water in his ears, and he whips his sopping wet head towards the door as though the frosted glass is suddenly transparent. It’s not.
“I- I’m okay, bud! Just feels nice to be clean, y’know?” he calls.
The answering chirrup sounds like agreement, satisfaction in the tone that makes Steve think that maybe just… talking to his monster while he showers will make him feel better about the forced distance Steve’s insisted on? He ponders this as he shampoos his roots, the massaging circles a familiar rhythm against his scalp.
“I bet it felt just as nice when we got you in the bath, huh, Eds?” Steve chuckles, “I can’t imagine how long you spend in the Upside Down without an actual bath, or hell, a shower. That sounds awful.”
Steve can’t hear the response, but he does notice that the cloud of anxiety he’s been feeling hovering in the air from where his monster waits begins to lessen with every word out of his mouth. So he rambles mindlessly in between washing his hair and himself, talking about anything and everything that comes to mind, no matter how silly it might be. The miasma of anxiety is all but gone from around his monster by the time he’s rinsing the conditioner from his hair, turning down the shower temperature to finish up by washing his face. He’s pressing his face into the spray, rinsing away the face-wash, when he remembers that he still hasn’t told Eds that Mr. Munson is coming over. He spits out the water that made its way into his mouth, pushing his wet hair back from his face.
“So I bet you’re wondering why I went on my cleaning frenzy this morning, huh? Well, if it’s just going to be us here I certainly don’t mind a bit of clutter. But, well… I um.” Steve takes a deep breath, leaning his head against the tile of the shower as he collects himself, nerves making his heart race in his chest. Why is this so terrifying? Eds had wanted to see his uncle, right? He’d seemed to, anyways, when Steve mentioned his name in the Upside Down along with Dustin’s. He exhales loudly.
“I called your uncle. He’s coming over at two.”
There’s a loud bang and clatter, like the door has been flung open, and Steve startles as a black shadow appears in front of the frosted glass with inhuman speed. Before he can even blink, that shadow stretches, and suddenly, there’s his monster, leaning over the top of the frosted glass shower enclosure, eyes huge and shocked as he shrieks and warbles at Steve, sounding both distressed and excited all at once, like he can’t contain all the emotions running through him. Steve flushes bright red, realizing that, well. Eds is just. Staring at him, while he’s buck-ass-naked, and fucking fuckity shit balls, dick do not even think about getting interested right now or so help me–
“Uh, Eds? Hey, bud? Can you uh.” Steve clears his throat, face still flaming as he fights back all his body’s inappropriate reactions, “Privacy.”
Eddie-monster recoils like he’s been slapped, a look of horror (and maybe something else? Steve thinks that might be pink flooding his ears and neck, but he’s not sure from the steam) dawning across his inhuman face before he scrambles down off the glass and—judging by the thudding and banging sounds—all but throws himself out of the bathroom in his haste to comply with Steve’s request. If he wasn’t so embarrassed at being caught out with his dick out by a dude (is he still a dude, really? This is such a gray area, Steve isn’t really sure anymore.) he’s definitely into, in a like… sexy way. Scrubbing a hand down his face, Steve turns off the water and goes about finishing his post-shower rituals.
He’s got the towel around his shoulders over a soft, well-fitting tee shirt and a pair of jeans, catching the water still dripping from his hair. He quickly checks the time on his watch, pleased to see he’s still got time to prepare some refreshments before Mr. Munson is due to show. Steve rubs the towel over his hair gently a few times, getting out the excess water so he can let it air-dry. Since changing up his hair regimen slightly after Starcourt, Steve’s taken to dedicating slightly less time to styling than he used to, enjoying the way his hair is starting to naturally fall as it air-dries. Plus, it’s gotten a lot healthier without being bombarded by the hairdryer every time he has to wash it. Sighing, he hangs the towel up over the back of his ensuite door, facing the monster on his bed.
It’s clear Eddie-monster is feeling guilty, curled up and making himself small on top of Steve’s sheets. He’s got his nose buried in one of Steve’s pillows, his wings draped around him like a tent as though he’s hiding from the world. It’s very cute, Steve thinks as he approaches, sitting down on the edge of his bed and trailing his fingers along the ridges of one of his wings. The shiver the action elicits is subtle, but Steve catches it nonetheless.
“Sorry I waited so long to tell you, sweetheart,” Steve says quietly, continuing the gentle stroking motion of his hand across his monster’s wing, “I called Mr. Munson early this morning, and he said he would be by around… two. I didn’t tell him anything about you, just that there were a few things he should be aware of.”
Eddie-monster crawls forward on his belly, resting his big head on Steve’s lap, his talon-tipped hands curled gingerly over his thighs as he looks up at Steve with those big Bambi eyes, crooning softly.
“I know bud,” Steve consoles, carding his fingers through Eddie-monster’s mane of hair-fur, “I bet you’re really nervous to see him, huh?”
His monster’s answering chirrup is subdued and hesitant, a melancholic expression passing across his inhuman face. Steve hates seeing him like this, so quiet and lacking his usual enthusiasm and joy. He strokes the side of his sweet beast’s face, his thumb tracing a slow path beneath his eye.
“Mr. Munson is a smart man, Eds. And- And it’s always been so clear how much he loves you. He was putting up missing posters for you at first, did you know? Dustin gave him your guitar pick necklace when he finally found him.” Steve sighs sadly, “I’ve been driving Dust up to see him at his new place the government spooks gave him after confiscating the remains of your trailer. He’s a good man, your uncle. He’s also definitely aware that there’s more going on than what the local authorities are telling everyone.”
Eddie-monster makes a noise of agreement as he presses back into Steve’s touch, blinking wide wet eyes up at him.
“So honestly, I doubt he’d be totally shocked that you’re, well… that you’re like this, Eds. It certainly isn’t the weirdest thing to happen in Hawkins lately. And between you and me? I think your uncle has seen some shit, man. He’s got those eyes, you know?” Steve gestures loosely to his own face, “Like there’s something there beneath the sadness, and it’s the kind of something you don’t want to have to face. Like, uh… what’s the phrase… like waking a sleeping dragon!” Steve snaps his fingers, grinning widely down at Eddie-monster and delighted that he’d remembered the goofy nerd reference.
Eds stares back up at him, something warm swimming in his starry eyes. Once again, he’s looking at Steve like he’s his monster’s whole world and it makes Steve feel warm all over as he fights the urge to fidget and look away. He clears his throat instead.
“So, uh. We’ve got about an hour before he gets here. I’m going to put together some snacks and maybe some iced tea or something… maybe he’d want a beer?” Steve shakes his head and resigns himself to just making sure he’s got some beers chilling in the fridge too, just in case. They’re one of the cheaper brands Hop drinks, left over from last time everyone gathered at his place, so they’ll have to do... Mr. Munson doesn’t seem like the picky type, thankfully. 
“I trust that you’ll be on your best behavior when your uncle comes by, right? You know you’ll have to stay out of sight at first, but I’ll call you in when I think he’ll be receptive to seeing you. Can you do that for me, Eds? Can you be patient?”
Eddie-monster presses into Steve’s hand, rumbling out an agreement. Satisfied, Steve gently maneuvers himself out from under his monster, leaning over and burying his face against his mane of hair-fur, inhaling the sweet scent of his monster.
“You’ve been such a well behaved boy, my little riot,” he praises, “I’m so glad I found you.”
Steve feels sentiment overflow in his heart, feelings growing too large to contain become reflected outwardly as tears bubbling up in his eyes. He nuzzles closer to his precious wildling, helpless against the need to press a desperate kiss to the crown of his monster’s head.
 I’m so glad you’re alive,” he whispers fervently, “I’m so happy you’re home.”
Eddie-monster makes a broken, wretched sound as he nudges his head up at Steve, butting him off just enough to stare into Steve’s face, wet with tears. Wide hickory eyes are round with stunned awe as they gaze back at Steve, and slowly he leans in, tentatively licking the salty tears from Steve’s cheeks and nosing at his face with soft, sub-vocal purring sounds that Steve is starting to think might mean something adjacent to love. He’s completely overwhelmed by the kindness of his monster, the gentleness and sweetness he has in spades that he thinks Steve is worthy of being on the receiving end of.
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When there are no more tears for Eddie-monster to lick clean, Steve stands and ushers his monster downstairs with him. Steve sets up the sun room for Mr. Munson and himself, thinking it’ll probably be the best place to keep him occupied so Eddie-monster can claim the living room, which Steve is sure is still drowning in his own scent. The familiar location will hopefully help his monster stay calm while Steve feels out Mr. Munson, making sure he’ll be receptive to Eds’ new form before initiating an introduction. He sets up his tray of snacks and his pitcher of iced tea while Eddie-monster watches him from the spot he’s claimed, laid out on his belly by the door to the sun room. He can see around the threshold to the table Steve’s going to be using, but at the angle he’s at, he’s hidden from line of sight. 
Clever boy.
Two o’clock arrives faster than Steve imagined it would, and his nerves are back in full force as he wrings his hands nervously, glancing out the kitchen window as he waits for Mr. Munson’s truck to roll up. Everyone in Hawkins knows where the Harrington house is, so Steve hadn’t thought to make sure the man had instructions on how to get here, but at five to two, the rumble of an engine makes Steve’s head snap towards the window just in time to watch as Mr. Munson’s old truck pulls into the driveway out front. His palms feel sweaty and his heart is racing as the man himself climbs out of the cab and shuts the door, rubbing a hand over his balding head with a look of… well, the look of a man staring into the mouth of hell and waiting to face down the devil himself. That. That doesn’t bode well.
Steve wrings his hands as he heads to the front door, hoping to guide Mr. Munson around by the pool so they can avoid passing through the living room. He swears his heart is beating so loudly, it’s got to be audible at this point. Swallowing nervously, he opens the door just before Eds’ uncle climbs the porch.
“H- Hello, Mr. Munson, sir,” he greets with what’s hopefully a friendly smile on his face, “um, I set up the sun room in the back for us to talk in. It’s beautiful there this time of day; I figured we may as well be comfortable.”
Mr. Munson raises one shaggy brow, those steely eyes peering at Steve with a gaze that feels far too knowing. He motions for the older man to follow him as he leads them around to the back, barely looking at the pool as he holds open the door to the sun room for his guest. Mr. Munson toes off his boots when he steps inside and Steve is about to tell him not to bother, but he realizes that the older man is merely taking the cue from the pairs of shoes Steve’s got lined up next to the door. Yeah, the guy’s observant as hell and sharp as a tack… this might be a bit tricky. Steve clears his throat and motions to the table, which Mr. Munson arches a brow at.
“If I didn’t know better, son, I’d be thinkin’ yer tryin’ ta butter me up some with all th’ refreshments.”
Steve flinches.
“A-Ah, well. Um. It’s- It’s a difficult conversation I’m about to have with you, I suppose, I um. I always feel more grounded when I’m hosting someone, rather than just… giving news, you know?”
Mr. Munson arches that brow again, “I reckon I don’t, Steve. But let’s not beat ‘round the bush. Y’called me here ‘bout Ed, didn’tcha?”
Steve rears back in his seat, his breath leaving him in a rush, “I–!”
“Now calm down, son,” Mr. Munson says, rational as anything, “I ain’t accusin’ you a’nothin’. S’just curious the way you’re actin’ like a caged critter, all twitchy an’ nervous ‘round me. So I reckon it’s got somethin’ t’do with my boy. How’m I doin’ so far?”
“I- You’re not… you’re not wrong, sir.”
Mr. Munson snorts, leaning back in his seat and finally allowing a smirk to pull up the corner of his lips. It warms his entire face and Steve suddenly sees why Eddie must have loved him so much. The man feels like everything good and familial in the world, all wrapped up in this gruff, southern exterior. Steve feels himself start to relax.
“Call me, Wayne, son. I get th’ feelin’ by th’ time this talk’s over, we’re gonna’ be on first-name basis.”
Steve chuckles, a genuine smile creeping onto his face, “Um. Would you like some iced tea, Mr–uh, Wayne?”
Chortling and settling more comfortably in his seat, Wayne pushes his glass forward, “Don’t mind if I do, son. Yer one helluva host, Steve, can’t say I ain’t impressed.”
“O-Oh,” Steve stutters, flushing at the praise, his heart soaring as he warms from the inside out, “thank you. I… I like hosting, it’s. It’s calming for me.”
Wayne snorts, “More of a solitary man m’self, an’ god forbid Ed ever clean his damn hurricane of a room ‘nough to have guests,” he jokes, “so I can’t say I relate,” he says with a grin, taking a sip of his tea and setting the glass down thoughtfully.
“I came here ‘cause my gut was sayin’ y’all know more than what them spooks are tellin’ us. It ain’t the truth, or at least it ain’t the whole truth. So I reckon I oughta’ hear ya’ out an’ make a judgment for myself ‘bout all this.”
Steve nods, holding his glass between both of his shaking hands as he stares down at the table top. He bites his lower lip.
“You- You aren’t wrong, Wayne. There’s so much more going on than what the government is saying. I- I’ve been involved in it since ‘83,” Steve says, glancing up just in time to catch the look of horror and concern that crosses the older man’s face before they’re hidden behind a quickly drawn mask of calm.
“Most of it, you don’t really need to know, plus I signed like, a shitton—oh, pardon my language—of NDAs so I have to be kinda’ careful with what I say,” Steve says, “but what happened over spring break was tied to all of it.”
Steve looks Wayne in the eyes, “Eddie didn’t kill anyone, Wayne. He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. He was with me and several others who’ve been involved with all of this since ‘83 for the whole manhunt for him. I wasn’t there when he decided to sacrifice himself to save Dustin’s life, but I know he made that decision because he is brave and a hero in all the ways that matter.”
“Now Steve,” Wayne’s voice is wavering, tentative and tinged with fragile hope, “I know ya’ know yer usin’ present tense talkin’ ‘bout my boy. Dustin told me he died… what–”
Steve examines the older man across from him, taking in the shaking hands, knuckles large and palms calloused from years of working with them. The lines on his face are deep, aging him beyond what he should be, but there’s something so vulnerable about the usually unflappable man sitting before him. Right now, he just looks so broken, so desperate for the truth that Steve can’t help but blurt out his next words.
“Eddie is alive.”
Wayne slumps back in his seat, tears finally spilling from his eyes as he presses a hand to his face, openly weeping. Steve reaches across the table, patting the older man’s wrist where it rests against the edge, “Eddie is alive, but… what he went through changed him, Wayne.”
Like lightning, the man before him is sharp like a blade, his mood snapping into something fierce and protective with a fervor that takes Steve’s breath right from his lungs.
“If ya’ think a little PTSD is gonna’ stop me from–”
“No, no, Mr. Munson–Wayne–it’s more than PTSD. He’s changed, like… physically.”
Wayne stares at Steve, shaggy brows furrowed and lips pursed, like he’s disappointed in Steve somehow. “An’, ya’ what? Think I’m gonna’ turn my boy out on his ass ‘cause’a a few scars?”
Steve’s distress is rising rapidly. It’s clear to him that Wayne will go to bat for Eddie regardless of what’s going on with him, if PTSD and scars don’t even register on his radar as a potential problem—Steve knows from experience that neither are exactly a walk in the park—but this is a whole different breed of issue, and Steve doesn’t know how to explain it without sounding batshit insane, and he needs Wayne to trust him, he has to, for Eddie’s sake!
“No, no, Mr–ugh, Wayne–no, he’s–!”
Steve’s blood goes cold when he hears the mournful screech coming from around the corner, his face going white with fear as everything feels like it starts to move in slow motion. He turns around, panicked, and watches helplessly as Eddie barrels into the room, bee-lining for their table in all his seven-foot-plus, monster glory. His hickory eyes are wide but his expression on that inhuman face is fierce, like he’s mad about something, and oh god, is he mad at Steve for upsetting Wayne? Shit, is this some weird family-pack-dynamic thing that his beast instincts are clamoring at him about!? Fuck, Steve hadn’t even considered that!!
He hardly has a moment to think when suddenly his monster is upon them, and—
—wait.
What?
Steve blinks, casting his gaze down at the thick arms wrapped around him, where he’s being pulled snug against Eddie-monster’s chest possessively. Stunned, still not fully processing, Steve takes in the wings spread wide, cast out in a threat display around them, the tail that’s wound its way up one of his legs and resting on his inner thigh. He blinks back into the moment, startling as Eds actually snarls and hisses at his uncle while he curls himself tighter around Steve.
“Jeezus, Ed. Ya’ were dramatic before, but this is a bit much, ain’t it, son? Promise I ain’t mad at yer boy. Misunderstood ‘im, that’s all. Quit it with th’ hissy fit, ya’ain’t a kid no more.”
Steve gawks at Wayne, shocked by the calm way the man is reacting to the monstrous appearance of his nephew. “I- I- You’re taking this surprisingly well…”
Wayne sighs, sounding like a man with far too many years of dealing with wacky shenanigans under his belt. He rubs a hand down his face, staring deadpan at Steve with the most done expression Steve has ever seen on another human being before in his life.
“Ya’ think this–” he gestures loosely at Eddie-monster’s… everything with one hand, “–is weird?” Wayne scoffs, amusement lacing his tone although his expression doesn’t change, aside from the arch of one scruffy eyebrow, “when th’ boy was twelve, he only answered to Lord of Darkness.”
Wayne rolls his eyes, parental affection in every inch of his body language and Steve can’t help the barking laugh that bursts out of him, laughing even harder at the betrayed squawk Eddie-monster lets out at his uncle’s words. He’s overwhelmed with relief, suddenly exhausted as he leans back into his monster’s embrace, laughing so hard his ribs hurt and his eyes well with tears.
“Don’t give me that, Ed. Y’know s’my duty t’ embarrass ya’ in front of ya’ pa– people.”
Eddie-monster’s arms are gentle where they cradle Steve, leaving him feeling safe as his monster warbles something back at his uncle, unintelligible and yet Wayne seems to understand anyway.
“Oh, hush yer mouth. Ya’ know ya’ ain’t foolin’ nobody, son. But I’ll let them sleepin’ dogs lie, for now. It’ll all come out in th’ wash, anyway.”
Steve has no idea what they’re talking about, or how Wayne just seems to know what his nephew is saying, but he pats his monster on his chest, signaling for Eds to let him go. Reluctantly, his beast obeys and Steve takes his seat across from Wayne again. Eddie-monster settles in on his haunches at Steve’s side, resting his head across Steve’s thighs, those big Bambi eyes peering up at him and just begging for pets. Steve chuckles.
“Oh, so now you’re gonna’ act all cute?” Steve scratches behind one of his monster’s ears, “Little riot…”
Wayne clears his throat, and Steve jerks upright, flushing in embarrassment at being caught out like that. He’s gotten so used to it just being him and Eddie-monster alone in the house, even though it’s only been about a day, it’s so strange to have a witness to their weirdly touchy relationship.
“Well, now that you know about Eddie,” Steve says after clearing his throat, “d’you have any questions? I’ve already got a plan in place to handle caring for him, financially and otherwise, for as long as needed, so that’s not something you’ll need to worry about.”
Wayne blinks at him, his expression melting into something that makes Steve feel uncomfortably seen. He flushes again, the heat settling on the back of his neck beneath his hair. He averts his gaze for a moment, gathering himself.
“Well, I’m sure glad ya’ do, ‘cause as much as I hate admittin’ it, the place them spooks got me ain’t big enough for a fella a’his size. Another person a’ Ed’s size, we could make it work, but…”
“Yeah, he’s a big guy, that’s for sure,” Steve chuckles, scratching under his monster’s chin absently, a fond smile crossing his face, “I’ve got plenty of space and my mom knows I’m housing a… friend in dire straits, so she’s already on board. My dad won’t be a problem.”
“Ah,” Wayne says, his tone knowing in a way Steve’s suddenly curious about, “how’s Arlene doin’? Still fixin’ t’conquer th’ world?”
“Oh, she’s doing great. Divorced Dick—uhhh, my dad, Richard—and now she’s head of Ellsco, which she absolutely deserves.”
Wayne whistles long and low, “She’s always had gumption, that’s for damn sure. Glad she’s doin’ well for herself,” he pauses, “an’ ya’ said she’s alright with having my boy here?”
“Mmhm, she is. We had a long phone conversation about it the other day. She’s going to be re-establishing my access to one of my bigger trusts so I’ll have the income to care for Eds without having to worry about going broke.”
“Good woman, that Arlene. Always has been.”
Steve nods, “Dad certainly didn’t deserve her,” he scoffs, “honestly, no man is good enough for her.”
Wayne snorts, wry amusement dancing in his eyes while a softness steals across his face as he stares at Steve from across the table, “you ain’t wrong, son.”
Steve feels like there’s more to Wayne’s words, but he’s so emotionally drained he doesn’t have the energy to dedicate to parsing it out.
“Anyway, any other questions?”
“Y’think he’s stuck like this, then?”
“Dunno,” Steve says honestly, “I’m going to re-introduce him to Dustin soon and the kid’s a damn genius, so I’m sure he’ll have ideas for all sorts of tests we can run to see if we can’t figure out what’s going on with Eddie.”
Wayne hums, “Makes sense, ‘specially since ya’ can’t trust them government goons none.”
“Well, Dr. Owens is a decent guy, but I still don’t really trust any of them, to be frank.”
They talk for a few more hours, Wayne picking Steve’s brain about whatever information he can weasel out of him about the Upside Down and the events of Spring Break. When he finally leaves, Steve is beyond exhausted, but his heart is calm and he spends the rest of the night with his monster by his side, moving through his usual routine until they once again fall asleep together in the rebuilt nest on the living room floor. 
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jeebus this one was WAY longer than i anticipated, but hey, it's done. also woefully unedited but fuck it dad needs their sleep so
come get y'all's food.
hope you enjoy it. also, i'd like to give a shout out to @snarkfamily for absolutely calling Wayne's reaction like... all the way back in part one of this dumbass story. i stole your line, it was too perfect, forgive me? -- xo
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the support banners are from here! they're beautiful! cafekitsune has made some gorgeous stuff. please check them out if you're a creator!
TAG LIST --------------------- i realized I haven't been tagging @steddielations since the first part, but i also don't want to inundate them with shit since she seems like a fairly popular and well-known person within the steddie fandom here on tumblr dot com. so, please let me know if you don't want me tagging you, my guy!
------------------------------------------------------- The Folks Who Continue to Want to be Tagged ------------------------------------------------------- @almondflavoredbookworm @awkwardgravity1 @croatoan-like-its-hot @dauntlessdiva @ellietheasexylibrarian @estrellami-1 @eyesofshinigami @goodolefashionedloverboi @grimmfitzz @himbosandhardwear @insteviewetrust @kacatshi @lunabyrd @matchingbatbites @me-and-my-sloth @moltenchocolatelavacake @monsterloverforhire @mugloversonly @ohmeg @panicatthediaz @pansexuality-activated @prazinos @queenie-ofthe-void @sani-86 @sergeisilence @steddieonbigboy @steddiewithachance @vacantwatchers @waelkyring @warlordess @y4r3luv there are 8 more of you on the tag list but I seem to consistently have issues with your names allowing me to actually tag you, so I'm moving your names to the comments for now, at least until we can fix the issue. I can have up to 48 names in the tag list on the actual post, and as of now, I have around 30 that are working consistently, so... take that as you will.
I also have a list of folks who didn’t ask specifically to be tagged for future installments, but are extremely enthusiastic about the story. Unfortunately I just about ran out of space in the main post so I'll be putting the names in the replies! Otherwise, you can follow the story tag, which is #Take Me Home steddie fic, or just follow me, @hobbyistauthor!
If you wanted to be taken off the tag list, just let me know either in the replies or via DM. I don't bite much.
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stevesbipanic · 4 months
Text
Home for Christmas
MY BIG BANG FIC IS FINALLY HERE!!!!
Chapter 1 is now up on Ao3!
Excerpt:
“I’m fine, Robs, really, this is normal for me; as long as you bring back some of your Nan’s gingerbread, I’ll be just as happy as last year.”
“I just feel bad thinking of you in that big house, Steve, should’ve snuck you into my suitcase.”
“You’re home in four days; you’ll barely notice my absence.”
“I’m worried about you noticing mine.”
“I’ll see you on Monday, Robbie, love you.”
“Love you too, dingus, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”
Art by @rasberrycolapop
More chapters to come with the final chapter on Christmas Day!
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