#trying to figure out how to draw cats still

[tomahachi12]

Hi! I really like your virus AU! I got a couple questions tho...

How did the other workers react to everyone's transformation? We haven't seen Khan, Lizzy, or Thad in this AU yet, after all.

Also, does the gang still go to school, or do they just... hang out all day?

The Virus Au wasn't really something I was working on before.

Now I just answer what questions people have about it or draw silly requests.

--

Story-wise, it mostly takes place outside of the Bunker. The DDrones were too dangerous to have inside when they were still going crazy anyway.

Most of the workers didn't even know this was going on, only the few that are close to Uzi.

Even after getting the first patch, Khan was worried about them still hurting anyone and wouldn't allow Uzi to bring them inside Bunker. He was also worried about the Virus possibly spreading to the workers, and especially Nori. He was also worried for Uzi, but there wasn't anything he could do to stop her.

They're hiding out in Y's workshop outside the bunker while Uzi works on the patch.

Thad thought it was cool, and kept trying to get them to pass the Virus to him thinking it would make him better at sports. It did not.

The Virus doesn't effect non-solver drones the same, so he just got sick for a few days.

Lizzy would still hang out with them while Uzi was trying to figure out the next patch, but when your gf gets turned into oversized cat that climbs all over you and litteraly claws for attention all day, it gets a little annoying.

Thad and Lizzy would help keep an eye on them if Uzi had to leave.

--

Khan and Nori are more involved once Uzi gets infected. The DDrones are fully patched and healed at this point, but the patch doesn't work for Uzi, and now they have to figure out a new patch that'll work for her.

--

This takes place around a year or two after the end of the series, so Uzi, Thad and Lizzy have already graduated from school.

Thad is working with Khan to toughen up the WDF and also runs part of the school's sports program.

Lizzy helps Sarah in the Medical Bay and is learning to be a nurse. They work together with Y to come up with new methods to repair and even upgrade parts.

Uzi still just hangs out with the DDrones and does whatever all day.

[totallyjustabunchofhocuspocus]

Fic: Something to Sink Your Teeth Into 27/?

Pairing: Buck/Tommy

Vampire/Witch!AU

Read on AO3 (current chapter)

Read on AO3 (from beginning)

“How long can we stay here?” Tommy asked, his eyes staying fixed on the two witches who were searching with increasing rage for the spot where Evan had slipped into the between.

He doubted they would find it—at least not quickly—as they had both been focused on taking Tommy and Del Marco out, but one of their familiars might have noted Evan’s position. Even if they had, it would still take a while to seek out the exact place where he’d dragged everyone into the between. They had time. But.

“Probably not long enough for them to give up and leave,” Evan admitted softly. “I can’t…Tommy, I don’t know how long I can hold this. Not with all of us.” He inhaled shakily through his nose, trying to quell the wave of nausea that had swept through him when he yanked three people into the between with him. In an instant, Tommy was in front of him, his hands cupping Evan’s face gently. In the chill of the between, his vampire’s hands were almost warm.

“Are you all right?” Tommy asked urgently.

Evan closed his eyes and let himself sway forward just a bit, resting his forehead against Tommy’s. “I’ve got enough in me for a few more spells,” he said. Tommy’s hands left his face, only for his vampire to gather him close and hold him tightly. He sighed, imagining for a moment that he could draw some of Tommy’s strength into him, let his vampire take some of the strain of the casting the way he was taking Evan’s weight. When he opened his eyes again, he felt a little less dizzy, adrenaline carrying him a little farther. “We need a plan.”

“Maddox…Maddox—God, can you hear me?”

At Del Marco’s frantic voice, Tommy let him go with visible reluctance, stepping back and turning to the high coven witch. The woman had managed to drag herself to her knees and was crouched over the still body of her familiar, stroking the poor thing’s bloodied fur with shaking hands.

Cath—Catherine? the familiar whispered. Henry…Henry attacked me. I don’t…Bianca was…helping him.

“I know. Hush, I know.” Del Marco began chanting a healing spell, running her glowing hands over the bite marks that littered her familiar’s body. She ignored the raw gash on the side of her head, all of her attention on her familiar. Only when the familiar’s breathing seemed to steady did she look up at Evan. Her dark eyes roamed over their surroundings, shock plain on her face when she realized what he had done.

“The between…you took all of us into the between?” she whispered. She picked her familiar up gently and staggered to her feet, clutching the cat close to her chest.

“Look, we need to figure out what we’re going to do about your friends, there. Evan, can we just, I dunno, get down the street before you take us out of here?” Tommy asked. “Like before, where you got us onto the porch at Greenway’s house?”

Evan winced when Del Marco’s eyes snapped to him, so wide they showed the whites all around. “Who the hell are you?” she demanded. “I can’t make the between big enough to stand in, let a lone fucking travel in it! That…familiars don’t teach us how to do this anymore. Most of them don’t really know how to do it anymore!”

It was…common, once. His...familiar must have…been one of the old…ones.

“An old—wait,” Del Marco said, her brow furrowing. “Wait, no, the only remotely recent banishment who had been chosen by one of the old ones was—”

“It doesn’t matter who he is,” Tommy interrupted, and Evan was pathetically grateful. “We need to figure out what we’re going to do! Evan, how far away can you get us?” He winced when the linebacker suddenly plunged through him, stalking in ever-widening circles in the parking lot. “God that’s weird,” he muttered.

Evan shook his head. “I, I can get us across the parking lot. Maybe. But I, uh, I can’t stretch the, the between beyond what I could see when we went in. And—” He paused, closing his eyes against a rush of dizziness, and Tommy was instantly in his personal space, sliding an arm around his waist to steady him. “Taking all of us…Tommy, this place looks like it’s as big as the real parking lot, but…”

“But the path we’re standing on is razor-thin,” Del Marco finished grimly. “If one of us mis-stepped, we could slip right out of Evan’s spell.”

Tommy’s arm tightened around him. “And where would that leave us?”

“At best? Right back out in the parking lot with Malone and Peterson, and their familiars. At worst? An entirely different part of the between. Maddox and I could probably find our way out, but you’d be lost forever.” Del Marco’s lips compressed into a tight, thin line. “There’s a reason it’s no longer common for a witch to be taught how to travel through the between.”

Evan’s head was pounding, and his hold on his magic grew more precarious by the second. “Okay, there’s two witches and two familiars trying to kill us, and I can’t hold this much longer,” he ground out through clenched teeth.

“Can’t you help him?” Tommy snapped, bodily hauling Evan out of the way as Peterson was about to walk through them again. It didn’t hurt, but Evan knew the sensation could be…disconcerting.

“He’s banished,” Del Marco snapped back.

“He saved your fucking lives!” Tommy’s voice was little more than a growl, and Del Marco drew herself up to her full height, her gaze hardening.

“He is right here, and they are still trying to fucking kill us!” Evan groaned. He slung his arm around Tommy’s shoulders, leaning heavily on his vampire, no longer caring what Del Marco thought of it. Instantly, Tommy’s face softened. Evan turned his gaze back toward Del Marco. “They’re traitors. You know there’s no other explanation. And they’re not going to let you get back to your superiors—they’ll either kill all three of us, or just you two and pin it on us.”

Del Marco’s eyes widened in understanding, flicking to Tommy uncertainly, before she seemed to steel herself. “They’ve betrayed the oaths we took to the high coven. You swear to me that book proves that those witches who have been disappearing were murdered?”

“For what it’s worth, yeah, I swear,” Evan said, his head now swimming sickly. Fuck. Fuck. When he finally went down, he was going to go down hard.

“If you’re who I think you are and you still have your magic, that actually means a great deal.” Del Marco looked down at her familiar, clutching the cat more tightly to her chest. “The punishment for betraying an oath of service is execution,” she said quietly. “I can’t fight them both by myself—Maddox is too hurt to help me much.”

Tommy’s hand at the small of his back clenched into a fist. “So you want us to help you,” he said, a bitter sort of disgust in his voice.

To her credit, Del Marco met his vampire’s eyes squarely. “Yes,” she said. “Help me deal with them, and I’ll make sure your evidence gets to who it needs to in the high coven. I’ll do what I can to get the kill order taken off you both.”

Tommy was silent, before he heaved a sigh, his shoulders squaring. Gently, he let go of Evan, hovering close for a moment in case Evan’s knees gave out—not an unfounded fear—and then stepping back. “Evan, how many times can you throw me out there and pull me back in?” he asked.

Evan sucked in a breath, a thrill of fear running through him. “You’re not doing this without me!” he said, and was immediately undermined by how shaky his voice sounded even to his own ears. Tommy’s expression went tight and worried.

“Please don’t argue with me,” he said quietly. He jerked a thumb at Del Marco. “She’s the best shot we have at getting Grant the support she needs in the high coven. That gets them off your back faster. Trust me, okay? Can you pop me out and back at least a couple of times?”

Evan did trust him. He trusted him more than he’d ever trusted anyone except Maddie and Sally. He licked his lips and closed his eyes, assessing. “You’re probably gonna have to carry me out of here,” he admitted softly. “But yeah, I can do it.”

“You sure?”

Once upon a time, Evan might have bristled at the question, seeing it as a question of his competence. In Tommy’s voice, though, all he heard was honest, genuine concern. His vampire would trust his answer; he knew that. He firmed up his stance as much as he could and nodded.

“You want to ambush them,” he said, not needing an explanation of Tommy’s plan.

Despite the dire situation, Tommy’s grin was fierce and a little feral. His eyes sheened over red, and his fangs lengthened to visibility. “Fast and hard,” he confirmed. He leaned in and kissed Evan quickly, taking his hand and turning to look at where the witch Del Marco had called Malone was stalking directly toward them.

“On three,” Evan said, planting himself and his vampire firmly in Malone’s path. He closed his eyes and chanted, pushing Tommy firmly between the shoulder blades at the crest of the short spell. He felt the between part around his vampire, spilling him out into the actual world.

Tommy melted back into reality barely a foot away from Malone. The man recovered quickly, throwing one hand up, the beginnings of a fire spell already on his tongue…but Tommy was faster. The distance between him and the witch vanished between one blink and the next, and Tommy had him by the throat in an instant. Peterson screamed, and Malone’s familiar bounded toward them, but too late. Tommy tore into the witch’s throat, ripping into his jugular with the brutal efficiency of an apex predator. No neat, small puncture wounds…the ruin of Malone’s throat was little more than ground meat when Tommy pulled back, blood gushing out in a fountain. Tommy snarled and flung Malone’s body away from him, sending it sailing a dozen or more yards into the air to crash down on the concrete with a sickening crack of bone that Evan could hear even through the distortion of the between.

Then Tommy pivoted directly back towards where Evan had pushed him out of the between, reaching his hand out in perfect trust that Evan would pull him back before Peterson or the familiars could retaliate. Evan was there. His magic surging through him felt like fire crawling up his spine, like sandpaper scraping over every one of his nerve endings, and his vision doubled, trebled…but then Tommy was in front of him again. Steadying him. Solid and sure as he gripped Evan’s shoulders.

“I’m all right,” Evan gasped. It was the truth, but it wouldn’t be for much longer. Tommy’s hands tightened on his shoulders, and then his vampire whirled to face the wavering figure that Peterson made as she sprinted towards Malone’s body. Her sparrow familiar flitted through the air above Malone’s familiar, who had collapsed to the ground and was howling in anguish as its bond with its witch was abruptly severed.

Delia, don’t! the familiar shouted, as Evan heaved in another gulp of air and pushed Tommy free of the between.

It hurt. The pain nearly blinded him, his head feeling as though it was going to split open, and he collapsed to his knees, blood streaming from his nose and dripping onto the ground beneath him where it shimmered and disappeared. He barely heard Del Marco step closer to him, felt her hand hovering over his shoulder briefly before withdrawing. All his focus was on Tommy.

His vampire’s exit was not as graceful this time, and Tommy stumbled a couple of steps before he regained his footing. He did not let it slow him down, barreling toward Peterson like a freight train. She was even faster to react than Malone had been, a spell bursting out of her even as Tommy tackled her to the ground. The force of the spell went wild, arcing over Tommy’s shoulder and slamming into the SUV they’d driven to the motel. There was a thunderous crash and the vehicle rocked on its wheels and nearly bent in half—as though some invisible giant had just punched it as hard as it could. If the spell had hit Tommy, he’d have been obliterated into a bloody mist.

He was even quicker this time, and not as brutal as he could have been. His hands wrapped around Peterson’s head before she could get off another spell, and with a forceful twist, her neck snapped audibly. Her familiar wailed in the air, falling from the sky like a stone and writhing in pain along with the dog. Gasping for breath, feeling like something was trying to claw its way up his spine, he let the spell holding them in the between dissolve, and melted back into existence in the parking lot.

“Evan!” Tommy crashed to his knees beside him, and it was all he could do not to just collapse forward into his vampire’s arms.

Too much.

He’d done too much. Traveling through the between was exhausting all on its own, even with a coven bond…on top of everything else he’d done today, he couldn’t understand how he’d even lasted this long. He didn’t think he could get back to his feet if his life depended on it…and it very well might. There was no way people would ignore what had just happened out here. Even if the high coven enforcers had placed some kind of silencing spell or look-away charm on the property, it wouldn’t be able to hold against all this. They had to…they had to…

Just a minute. He could take…just a minute…

* * *

Evan looked a thousand times worse than he had after he’d teleported them from the office building.

He was not just pale—his face looked gray in the fluorescent light of the streetlamps scattered through the parking lot. Blood dripped from his nose in a steady stream, and his skin was cold and clammy when Tommy dropped to his knees beside him and laid a gentle hand on his face.

“Evan! Are you all right?” Stupid question. Stupid fucking question, of course he wasn’t all right. Evan barely seemed to register his hand on his face, listing alarmingly sideways until Tommy slipped an arm around him and gathered him close, nearly pulling his witch into his lap. Frantically, he pushed two fingers against Evan’s throat, hissing when he felt his witch’s heartbeat—weak and fluttering like a moth battering itself against a window. Too fast, too thready.

This wasn’t going to be fixed by a hot meal and a night’s sleep.

He turned desperate eyes on Del Marco, who was staring at the bodies of her companions in a kind of numb shock. “What’s wrong with him? What can I do?” he demanded. He understood the basics of why magic seemed to hurt his witch if he pushed it too far…but this wasn’t like what had happened before.

Del Marco’s eyes snapped to him, her expression going carefully neutral as she looked down at Evan. “He dragged all three of us into the between with him—and kept it from collapsing on us while he pulled you in and out of it multiple times. I’d need a week to recover if I’d done that. On top of what we saw at Jonah Greenway’s house…without a coven bond? I don’t understand why he wasn’t a heap on the ground when we got here.”

Convenless magic puts a tremendous strain on a banished witch’s body, her familiar added, its gaze not unsympathetic. I am sorry—either he is strong enough to recover or he is not.

Tommy went cold at that. “Can’t…can’t you do anything?”

Del Marco’s posture took on the stiff cast of a soldier delivering bad news. “Magical exhaustion is different from other ailments or injuries…healing magic doesn’t affect it. And—I’m sorry, but he’s banished. Even if we could help, it’s forbidden.”

Tommy could not bite back the growl that erupted out of him at her words, his eyes glowing scarlet as he pulled Evan closer. He stood with his witch in his arms and taking several steps back from Del Marco, as though she might try to hurt him. Something inside him snarled in ruthless satisfaction when her eyes widened a little, her scent sharpening with apprehension.

“I meant what I said. You did the high coven a service here, Mr. Kinard. I’ll do what I can for you with them. I’ll do what I can for both of you.”

She did not say if he lives.

She did not have to.

“May I have the book?” she asked, a thread of hesitation in her voice.

Tommy clenched his teeth, biting back the new growl that wanted to bubble up from his lips. This was their goal…Del Marco was in a far better position to help Grant and Howie with the high coven than he and Evan were. If he refused to give her the evidence they had found, then this was all for nothing. Evan groaned softly, stirring just a little as he grabbed clumsily at Tommy’s shoulder. His eyes were open—barely—but his witch didn’t seem to be tracking anything. Panic like Tommy hadn’t felt in centuries clawed at his guts.

He shifted Evan awkwardly to get at the front pocket of his borrowed sweatshirt, pulling the ledger out and tossing it at her before his witch could slip out of his arms. Del Marco caught it with one hand, tucking it under her arm. She turned and looked out at where the familiars were still twitching weakly on the ground, the dog whimpering weakly while the sparrow’s wings spasmed.

“You need to leave,” Del Marco said, holding one hand up in the air. She chanted a few words, and the white glow of witch magic sprang up around the familiars’ bodies.

“What?” Tommy asked incredulously. “What am I supposed to do?” He and Evan were painted in blood again, and his witch’s breath was growing more labored by the second. He needed…fuck, should he call an ambulance?

“This place will be swarming with high coven operatives in less than ten minutes. You cannot be here when they arrive,” Del Marco said. “I’m sorry, this is all I can do. There’s still a kill order on you. I’m risking everything not detaining you.”

He would like to see her fucking try.

He shifted Evan’s weight into a more comfortable hold. All right…all right, he just needed to get far enough away that the high coven wouldn’t find them. Then he could assess Evan…get him help. Either he is strong enough to recover or he is not. No. No. Evan was strong enough. His witch would be fine. He just needed…

The screech of tires suddenly sounded in the parking lot, and a black SUV with darkened windows came racing into the parking lot. Del Marco startled back, her hands glowing with white light, but Tommy…

Tommy didn’t think he’d ever felt such a wave of relief.

The car screeched to a halt only a few yards away from them, and the driver’s side window rolled down.

“Can’t leave you alone for a fuckin’ minute, can we Kinard?” Sal drawled.

[newmoonclan]

Moon 0

Nightstar names the clan NewmoonClan

The clan finds its new home

The clan is now open for asks

[lemongogo]

vashed

[happistar]

:3

he does look like it, doesn't he

[angelnightrose]

I love Narinder I love Narinder I love Narinder

[makigorogoro]

i miss them soooo much i miss them so much guys :(

[im-smart-i-swear]

eeneks sister having a fuck ton of scars, but later most of them being revealed as just from her childhood/from mundane accidents is so fucking funny to me for some reason.........

[drowzyscatterbrain]

haha muppet

damn twitter for dropkicking me into this pit of a fandom. (foaming at the mouth in silence)

[fenzs-strikes-again]

[catrat8d]

blaze in kirigiri’s clothes because they are both purple and my favorites

(i used this pose as reference)

[p0tat0-4rt]

mouse

[monstersholygrail]

oh to be a mouse hybrid toyed with by a cat hybrid who just wants to see you squirm in every way

Ooh when the Cat Hybrid’s owners told him they were getting him a new little friend, you, a Mouse Hybrid were by far the last thing he was expecting.

He wanted another cat to mess with, to play with… to mate with. But he couldn’t stop himself from noticing your plump round form scurrying about the house or the constant skittish look in your eye as you surveyed your new home. Perhaps you would do.

From that day on he would terrorize you mercilessly. Chasing you around the around the house when your owners were gone, saying he was gonna devour you when he finally got his claws into you. Backing you into corners just to see the delicious terror in your eyes. Plopping his large form right on top of you so that you couldn’t escape him even as you scrambled desperately to get away.

It was never ending and as much as you wanted to say you hated it, it felt far too good. The Cat hybrid severely underestimated you, forgetting you too were a hybrid with all the same perks. You could smell his desire in the air every time he chased you. And you had grown addicted to the scent. To feel so wanted and yearned for, especially during the chase, nothing else could compare.

He would only ever mess with you when he felt like it so you figured you might need to give him a little push. Using yourself as bait you use your owners creaky stairs to your advantage. As soon as the first step creaks, the Cat hybrid’s head snaps up from where he’s perched. His eyes meet your wide ones for only a moment before you’re bolting down the stairs.

As soon as you hear the pounding of paws behind you, you smirk wickedly knowing your plan had worked. Cute little squeaks leave your mouth as you run throughout the house, narrowly trying to avoid being caught. He should’ve realized how much you like this. You’re much faster than him after all.

After rounding the next corner you wait a moment for him to catch up. Seeing a flash of fur and then you’re off. The Cat Hybrid pauses for a moment as he realizes what you had just done. What you’ve actually been doing this entire time.

Adrenaline pumps through his veins as he chases you at lightning speed. He’s catching up to you in no time and by the look of genuine alarm in your eye he knows this wasn’t a trick. Instead of his usual antics he pounces on you, sending you both tumbling to the floor.

“You messin’ with me, little mouse?” He growls in your ear, his body pinning you to the hard wood floor. You don’t even bother to squirm, your heart beating out of your chest as you stare up at him.

Before you can even blink he’s shoving his hand down your pants and swiping his fingers through your folds, your slick drenching them with how aroused you are. He chuckles lowly, rumbling purrs vibrating into your chest and straight to your core.

“So this has been a game to you, huh? A bit of foreplay before I inevitably snap and fuck you dumb.”

You find you can’t even answer, panting breaths escaping you as you rock with his hand that’s slowly rubbing against all the right places. He devilishly smiles and pushes two fingers deep inside you, causing your hips to jolt as you cry out.

“Well, sweetheart, you’ve done it. I’ve snapped,” he says with a menacing snarl as he pumps his fingers roughly against your walls, his claws just barely scraping them and setting your nerves on fire.

You try and be as good as you can, staying perfectly still for him as he fucks you with his fingers, but your small reaction only seems to infuriate him further. He picks up pace, licking and nipping at your throat until you too break and your moans echo throughout the empty house. A secret smirk plays on lips.

That is until the Cat Hybrid plays a trick of his own. Pumping his fingers inside you, drawing you closer and closer till you’re just about to fall off that edge when he suddenly stops and withdraws. You whine, squirming now as you begin to beg for more.

“I see through you now, sweet prey. You won’t be winning this one.”

You only start to realize your mistake as he starts fucking you with his cock, the large length stretching you so good. The natural curve hitting the soft spot inside you perfectly. Then he starts doing to you exactly what he did with his fingers. Bringing you up to the edge and then pulling you right back.

He’s as merciless as he is when terrorizing you and in a way he’s doing just that but in a whole new way that drives you more insane than the chasing ever did. Eventually you’re a sobbing mess, your tears and your arousal forming two separate puddles on the floor with how in need you are right now as he starts up again.

You jump as the sudden sensation of his wet nose nuzzling into your neck, his purrs even louder now. You immediately cling to him, meeting his thrusts and trying to chase your growing orgasm before it’s taken away again.

“Do you think you’ve earned the right to cum for me now?” The Cat Hybrid asks and you whine, nodding rapidly.

You feel his grin against your skin before he pulls out and starts slamming his cock deep inside your cunt. His intent clear before he even says a word. But when he does it’s like music to your ears.

“I agree. Cum for me, mate.”

This time as you get closer and closer to the finish, he doesn’t stop. Instead, his hands slips down and rubs tight circles into your clit. Your orgasm breaks through almost instantly and you scream as you milk his cock for all it’s worth, sending him right into ecstasy with you.

But the sound of the car door doesn’t leave either of you much time to bask in pleasure coursing through you. Luckily the Cat hybrid takes the lead, maneuvering you both as he curls around you, keeping you stuffed full of his cock but hiding any of the evidence. You’re too weak to do anything but shift into how he molds you. Making it appear as if you two are asleep and cuddling in the hall.

“Aw, look at them. Finally getting along,” you hear your owners say who are none the wiser to what’s really going on.

Cat Hybrid bf rocks his hips, snapping them back inside you quietly and forcing a squeak from your throat. He chuckles under his breath and nuzzles into you, not planning on moving away from you for hours. Wondering how many more orgasms he can rip from your tight pussy.

[steddie-as-they-come]

everybody talks

i could not tell you what this is. i wrote it all in one sitting. enjoy or whatever

It starts with the graffiti.

Scribbled in thick, permanent marker across the boys' gym lockers.

STEVE HARRINGTON FUCKS EDDIE MUNSON

The custodian tries half-heartedly to scrub it off, but he only manages to get about a letter and a half off the locker before his shift is over. It's back up by the next day anyway.

Half the school is walking on tiptoes around Steve, waiting for him to blow up and demand a manhunt for the culprit.

The other half is snickering and laughing as he walks by in the halls.

Steve doesn't give two shits. He holds his head up high and walks onwards, ignoring the laughs and the kissy noises. He needs to graduate. He needs to not get eaten by a terrifying monster from an alternate reality. More pressing things happen to Steve Harrington than grade school graffiti.

Until he turns the corner and sees Eddie Munson glaring furiously at his closed locker.

He doesn't speak to him. Even if the graffiti isn't a big deal, there's no need to add any fuel to the fire.

Eddie finally steps forward and wrenches open his locker door. The crowd milling in the halls begins to laugh.

Papers spill out, dozens of them, cascading over the floor and burying Eddie's shoes. One slides all the way to Steve's feet.

He looks down automatically.

There's an atrocious drawing of two stick figures bent over each other. The one on the bottom has two lines of curly hair, while the one on the top has a singular swooping line of graphite.

Great.

Steve swiftly scoops it up and crumples it in his fist, shoving it in his pocket. He'll toss it out later.

As he hustles past Eddie, steadfastly not looking in his direction, he thinks he hears Eddie mutter, "Every class period."

Steve turns a corner, and the train wreck that is Eddie's locker is gone.

He slides into his seat, knowing the band girls who sit in the back corner of the classroom are whispering about him, but finding he couldn't care less.

The teacher starts class.

He reaches into his pocket and slides the crumpled paper between his fingers, over and over.

Steve raises his hand. "Can I go to the bathroom?"

The teacher nods and waves him away, and Steve scrambles out the door, rounding the corner.

Eddie's still there, kneeling by his locker, trying to scoop up papers.

Steve kneels next to him. "Hey."

Eddie jumps like an alley cat that's been spooked. Steve could swear his hair starts bristling, puffing up.

"Your majesty," Eddie finally says, glaring back at the pile of paper like Steve'll disappear if he doesn't look at him. "To what do I owe the pleasure."

It's not really a question.

Steve answers it anyway. "Came to help," he says simply, picking up a piece of paper that has EDDIE MUNSON X STEVE HARRINGTON written on it in bold letters, surrounded by stupid little hearts. "After all, my name's on half this stuff."

"How kind," Eddie said. "Keeping me distracted while your buddies key my van or something?"

Steve reels back. "Huh?"

"I'm not dumb, Harrington," Eddie says, crumpling up another sheet of paper. Steve can barely catch EDDIE HARRINGTON on it before it's balled in Eddie's fist. "I get this is a prank or whatever. I just can't understand why you'd involve yourself with me. The King and the Freak."

"'Cause I'm not the King anymore." Steve says, standing to drag a nearby garbage can closer. It's already half-full of papers. "You sure don't listen to gossip, Munson. Billy beat my ass and I lost every friend I had. So. I think it's a prank on both of us."

"Oh."

Eddie, wonder of wonders, miracle of miracles, shuts the fuck up. Steve had seen people lose their meals to his impassioned school cafeteria rants, but it only takes Steve Harrington to shut Munson's infamous mouth.

Wait, that sounds wrong.

They keep cleaning in silence - relatively. Steve starts balling up the papers and tossing them at the trash can, unable to stop himself from hissing out a yes! if he makes the throw.

"Impressive," Eddie says dryly. "Can you do this?" He raises one hand in the air like he's about to take a pledge, and in the other he folds and rolls a slip of paper until it's shaped like a joint.

Steve chuckles. "Nope." He takes the fake joint, and it comes undone in his palm, revealing the same crude stick figure couple from earlier.

Right.

Steve had forgotten what they were doing here.

Evidently, Eddie had too. He looks down at the drawing, then snatches the paper from Steve, tossing it in the trash, two spots of pink high on his cheeks.

He scoops the last of the papers into his arms, dumping them in the trash can. "You can go back to class," he tells Steve, settling down with his back against the locker.

"What are you doing?" Steve says, slightly caught off-guard by the dismissal.

"Seeing if those pricks will try to do it again." Eddie says, folding his knees up to his chest. "They do it all the time. I think there's a jungle's worth of trees just being used to make shit for my locker."

"You're just gonna guard it?" Steve asks.

"Sure," Eddie says, picking at a piece of lint on his shirt. "What else have I got to do?"

Steve plops himself down next to Eddie. "I'll guard with you," he says stubbornly.

"Seriously?" Eddie asks, like Steve's particularly slow. Steve's gotten that tone of voice a lot in his life.

"Yeah." Steve says. He parrots, "What else have I got to do?"

"You're just gonna fuel the rumors, dude." Eddie says. "My name's mud around here. You know that damn well."

"Sure," Steve shrugs. "But it hasn't been half-bad hanging out with you, and I don't care what these jackasses think of me anymore. Bigger things to worry about."

They settle into a comfortable silence, watching the students pass by, their whispered comments and curious glances bouncing off the duo. Eddie taps his fingers rhythmically on the ground, humming a tune Steve doesn't recognize but finds oddly comforting.

He reaches into his pocket to feel the small paper, then tugs it out. Is it dumb that a stupid drawing is making him think about himself this much?

"Hey, Eddie," Steve starts, hesitating. "Can I ask you something?"

"Shoot," Eddie says idly.

"How do you... I mean, when did you know you were gay?" Steve asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

Eddie's expression turns to one of suspicion, but he answers anyway. "I guess I always knew, deep down. But I really figured it out in middle school." He looks at Steve out of the corner of his eye. "Why?"

Steve bites his lip, considering his next words carefully. "I think I might be... different too. I mean, I've only ever dated girls, but lately, I don't know. I feel... something."

Something means he worried for weeks when Billy beat the shit out of him because suddenly all these feelings were tugging at his brain. Feelings for people like Eddie Munson.

Eddie's eyes widen slightly, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. (What? Steve's not looking at his lips. Huh?) "Steve Harrington, the former King of Hawkins High, might not be straight? Now that's some gossip I'd actually pay attention to."

"Shut up," Steve mutters, but he's smiling too. "I'm serious."

"Well..." Eddie trails off. "We can try it out?"

Steve's heart skips a beat. "Huh?"

"We can try it out." Eddie repeats. "But, uh," he leans close, his breath ghosting over the shell of Steve's ear. "Just so you know, I prefer to be the one on top."

Weeks later, the school is overtaken by a new kind of graffiti. Papers plastered to every surface, a spiky handwriting (usually used to write setlists and D&D character sheets) adorning each and every one of them.

EDDIE MUNSON FUCKS STEVE HARRINGTON

[pyrrhiccomedy]

I am genuinely so proud of my wife for becoming a crafts person over the last few years.

Like, I was always a crafts person. I was an arts and crafts kid. My parents sent me to classes or summer camps or after-school clubs pretty much continuously from when I was about 5 years old, and over the years I did metalsmithing, stained glass, polymer clay sculpting, loom weaving, oil painting, charcoal drawing, clothes-making & tailoring, carpentry, woodcarving, macrame, miniatures, beading, jewelry-making, basket weaving, leatherworking, paper-making, bookbinding, papier mache, decoupage, sand sculpting, and probably more that I'm forgetting. There was never a day in my life while I was growing up when my entire bedroom floor wasn't taken up by 2-5 different ongoing art projects. As an adult, it's given me the firm confidence that I can walk up to pretty much any crafting skill, and get the hang of it, and enjoy doing it.

My wife never had that. She wrote, but that was really her only artistic outlet. Art & craftsmanship were just not any of her business. She always expressed admiration for my gumption when it came to making things with my hands, usually with a "bigger idiots than me have done it" attitude, but she was certain she'd be bad at it if she tried it, and that she wouldn't have fun. As evidence, she would offer every time in her life when she had attempted to learn a craft, and didn't have fun, and all the Arts And Crafts kids picked it up a lot faster than her.

Which like - yeah! Learning how to do a new craft is a skill all on its own! Fine motor control is a skill developed over time! So is spatial reasoning, and materials intuition! She wasn't just 'trying to learn wreath-making,' or whatever, she was trying to learn how to learn how to make something with her hands AND wreath-making, at the same time, so of course it would take her longer than the kids who already had the first part, and of course it would be more frustrating for her. I knew she wasn't uniquely bad at crafts: she just didn't know how to approach picking them up, because she was never encouraged to learn.

And then the pandemic hit.

And while we were all trapped inside and going insane in new and exciting ways to all of us, she tentatively decided to pick up embroidery. She probably wouldn't stick with it, she explained: she'd probably be bad at it. It probably wouldn't be fun. But she thought embroidery was pretty, and literally what else did she have going on?

And then she did stick with it. For over a year. And she got pretty good at it! She embellished a baseball hat for her sister with cactuses and wildflowers from where they grew up which came out adorable. She made an embroidered portrait of one of our friends' cat that they still have displayed in their entryway. And she discovered - and remarked on it often, with mild surprise - that she was having fun. She'd say a lot of stuff like "this stitch was so frustrating at first, but now that I get it I really like doing it," or "I kept getting this tangled but I've figured it out now. I just needed to relax."

Then she took up pottery. We did that as a couple for about a year, too. Now she's a knitter.

And it's just been so great, to see her eyes light up when she sees a sweater she likes, and hear her say, "I could make that!" She's slowly let go of the perfectionism that I think holds a lot of people back from doing crafts: that dismay when you make a mistake which leads to discarding a whole project, or starting something over. More and more she's taking on the veteran crafter attitude of "oops lol, whatever I'll just keep going." She's picking things up faster. She's taking pleasure in learning incremental steps. She's started to see crafting as something that relaxes and engages her, instead of as something inherently frustrating. I've gotten to watch her learn to find joy in making something with her hands. I always knew she was creative and artistic and capable of learning how to do anything. It's been so much fun to watch her start to take that on as part of how she sees herself.

We have this running joke about how she will prematurely declare herself to be in an era. Like, she'll go swimming twice and announce that she's now in her "swimming era," and then never go swimming again. Or she'll make one smoothie, buy a bunch of fruit, and declare that we are now in a "smoothie era," and then a week later we have to throw out a bunch of fruit that's gone bad.

The other day (while she was knitting, and I was sitting on the couch next to her doing crochet), she went, "I feel like I've gotten - like, I'm a bit crafty these days, I think. Like, I've done a couple of different crafts, and gotten pretty good at them. I think this is now, kind of, you know...something that I can say that I do."

I supplied that I would even go so far as to say that she was in her "crafting era."

Her eyes widened. "It's an era?"

I pointed out that it was something she'd been doing pretty much continuously for the last three and a half years. That feels like the start of an era to me.

"Yes," she decided. "It's an era. This is my crafts era. I'm a crafts person now."

She's planning to make me a sweater with a duck on it for fall.

[came0dust]

i drew this two days ago between a bunch of other sketches for other things and literally forgot