#mack writes

[stevethehairington]

One day, seemingly out of the blue, Max starts calling Steve "Skippy".

No one knows why, no one knows where it comes from. And no matter how many times they all ask her to elaborate, she never does. She never tells them why.

They look to Steve for clarification, but even Steve is confused where it comes from.

Until one day she calls him "Skippy", then pointedly looks between him and Eddie, that mischievous quirk of her lips growing and one eyebrow arching slyly. It clicks then, for Steve, and he sinks back into the couch, blushing and grumbling under his breath about not having any privacy with these kids, jesus christ.

Because.

Max got the nickname from that one night a few weeks ago when she hadn't been able to sleep, so she'd wrapped herself in her blanket and slipped out of her front door to sit on the porch. She found that breathing in the shock of the cool night air helped ground her. Helped give her something else to focus on.

So that night she'd snuck outside, quietly so she didn't wake her mother. The Munson trailer was just a hop, skip, and jump away, and from her perch on her front steps she had the perfect view of it. And of the maroon Beemer parked right out front (as it so often was these days).

And of Eddie and Steve where they stood just outside the door. Where Steve's hands cradled Eddie's face, and Eddie's arms embraced his waist.

Where they were kissing.

It hadn't lasted long, just a short, sweet little thing. But when they two of them broke apart, they'd shared these shy looks, matching smiles curling their mouths. And, though it was too dark for Max to see, matches blushes painting their cheeks too.

They'd shared a bit more conversation that Max couldn't hear either, then one more fleeting kiss before Steve started to back away. He laughed as Eddie stepped forward, following him, and he'd put his hand between them, pressed it against Eddie's chest to stop him. Steve shook his head, and said something else that made Eddie pout, but reluctantly take his own step backwards.

Steve paused at the top of the stairs, watching Eddie retreat back to his front door. Eddie had blindly felt for the knob behind him, so he didn't have to look away from Steve, and when he found it and pushed the door open, he'd slowly slipped back inside. He paused in the archway, hanging onto the door, and had said something else (another goodbye, Max thought), and he'd waved one last time before the door finally closed.

Steve stayed put through it all, watching with stars and hearts alike in his eyes (not that Max could see those either, but if she knew Steve, and she did, they were definitely there). After the door shut, he lingered still, until he finally turned away.

He'd hopped down the stairs, and then, to Max's shock and absolute delight, god damn skipped the entire way to his car.

She'd had to stifle her laughter into her hand so as to not draw his attention.

Thus, "Skippy" was born.

But, after the initial surprise at finding out that Max had been (unintentionally) lurking in the shadows, Steve found that he didn't really mind the silly little nickname. In fact, he kind of loved it.

Because that night had been the night of Steve and Eddie's first kiss. That night had been the start.

A really good start.

And Steve kind of loved the reminder of that.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #max mayfield #stranger things #mack writes

[statelysapphic]

Made for Me

Alex Blake x Reader

Summary: After risking your life to save a victim, Alex shows you the comfort you need. Soulmate AU. Covers a square for @prentiss-theorem’s bingo!

Warnings: Typical BAU case talk, mentions of violence. Hurt/comfort. Slight angst.

A/N: I just thought Alex Blake deserved her own Soulmate AU, so I wrote one. I’d absolutely love to know what yinz think because I got SO carried away while writing this. But, I am happy with how it turned out. As always, feedback is always appreciated! Thank you<3

Word Count: 3k

Ao3 Link

“What were you thinking?” Hotch gritted through his teeth, clearly trying not to lose his temper entirely. You knew he was more frustrated than angry, and you supposed he had every right to be. Instead of heading back to the precinct to wrap up an excruciating case, you were sitting on the back bumper of an ambulance, nursing a fresh oxygen tank, drenched and freezing. “Well?”

“Oh, that wasn’t rhetorical?” You quipped, moving the mask away from your face. “Figured it was a nice evening for a swim,” dripping in sarcasm.

“This isn’t the time.” Hotch snapped, rolled his eyes, and shot you a stern look. You weren’t having it, though, wishing until you were at least dry to reprimand you. You looked at him, disgust washing over you.

“Well, I was thinking about the unconscious, tied-up, redhead Nichols tossed off the dock, when none of the women in the county missing reports had red hair! He abducted her this morning, Hotch, she hadn’t even been missing long enough to file a report!”

“You unnecessarily risked your own life to ‘rescue’ a dead body from fourty degree water,” he barks back, not thrilled with your response. “The ME said she won’t be able to verify it until the autopsy, but she’s almost certain the victim was dead before she hit the water. Your decision was reckless and uncalc-”

“And what if she hadn’t been?” You interrupt. “What if she had still been alive and she drowned, huh? What then?” You knew you shouldn’t have been pushing his buttons like you were, but then again, he came in swinging. “I watched him toss her in the river and reach for his gun, Blake and I fired, and when he went down, I dove in after her. You may disagree, but I would do it again without hesitation.” You stood firm, reminding him that you were not the inexperienced agent you once were.

“I’d rather have river rescue only looking for one body as opposed to two. Get some rest. Wheels up at 8.”

You watched Hotch as he walked away and stopped to talk to Alex. Alex. She witnessed everything. She was still somewhat new on the team, but the two of you clicked instantly. You could listen to her talk about everything and nothing, for hours on end, and be simply enthralled every second. And though she was older than you, you had a lot of mutual interests. You also thought she was beautiful. For a moment, you wondered if she could be your soulmate, but that thought was quickly forgotten when you reminded yourself that she was married, and that almost no one actually finds their soul mate. You knew you weren’t lucky enough to be the one in a million. Besides, you and Alex had been working in tandem for the past month, and though you can’t recall specifics, you’re certain the two of you have touched at some point in passing, and you lacked a soulmark.

Dylan Nichols, the unsub, had been one of the lucky ones. His luck, however, ran out when his soulmate had an affair, left him, married the other man a few months later, and moved to Prague. Heartbroken and enraged, Nichols began abducting and murdering surrogates. Six of his seven victims had similar physical features to his estranged soulmate. The seventh woman, Anna, fell victim to his very rapid and extreme escalation. It was an exhausting case, and though you don’t enjoy having to play the role of executioner, you knew this was probably the best outcome.

“You look cold,” Alex said, catching your attention and breaking your train of thought, raking her eyes over your visibly shivering figure. Without another word, she held up a blanket, unfolded it, and wrapped it around your shoulders. “Here, I found this in the back of the SUV. It won’t dry your clothes, but it should help keep the wind off you until we get back to the hotel.” She smoothed out the blanket where it was lying on your shoulders, allowing her hands to linger for just a moment. She would be lying if she said she wasn’t struck with terror when you jumped into the river to save the victim. Even though it was spring, the water temperature was still near freezing. It was close to midnight if that hadn’t been enough, meaning the ordinarily murky water was pitch black.

“Thanks,” you said, grinning, trying not to focus too hard on Alex’s lingering hands. She was gentle, but firm. Possessive, almost. You examined her face as she took a seat beside you. She was trying to hide the worry, but you could see right through her. “You think I’m an idiot, don’t you?” You asked, preparing for her to lecture you just like Hotch.

“I think your dedication to your job is admirable,” she said, her gentle tone did not falter, “Just don’t make a habit of scaring me like that, okay?” She grinned, one hand still on your shoulder. Whether or not Alex would admit it, the physical contact was grounding her after the intense showdown with the unsub. She cared about you, she reminded herself that you were okay. “I’m going to go start the SUV, get it warmed up for you. Finish up with the paramedics and we can head back to the hotel.”

“You’re too good to me, Blake,” your chuckled, cracking a small grin, “Thank you, seriously. I’ll be there soon.” She smiled at you for a few seconds longer before she stood up and made her way to the car. You smiled as you covered your face with the oxygen mask, thinking only of the warm SUV (and Alex Blake) that awaited you.

~

The paramedics released you shortly thereafter. Alex drove you back to the hotel, but not before she stopped at the convenience store a few blocks away. You had been so lost in your own thoughts that you hadn’t realized you stopped. You didn’t even realize the car was in park until Alex closed her car door and walked into the store without a word. When Alex returned, she placed two small, styrofoam cups in your respective cup holders.

“What’s this?” You asked, picking up the cup and soaking in its warmth.

“I figured we could use some hot chocolate. You especially. It’s shitty convenience store hot chocolate, but it’s what I have to offer at the moment,” she said, “When we get back to Virginia, I’ll make you the best coco you’ve ever had.”

“Be careful, Blake,” you joked, “You may end up stuck with me at this rate. Thank you, I didn’t realize you were a world class hot chocolate chef.” Not that that was the worst thought in the world, spending the rest of your days with Alex. You imagined they would be filled with domesticity: Sunday grocery store trips, evenings in bed reading the same book (you’d buy two copies, of course) and comparing notes along the way, and people watching on the front porch together while you had your morning coffee. It felt easy, existing with Alex. She brought you a peace that only existed with her, and it was unlike anything you had ever known. Such a stark contrast from the day to day chaos of your job.

“You think I’d mind?” She asked, raising an eyebrow and smirking. “And I have to keep you on your toes somehow. The recipe is from my mother-in-law. Apparently James used to love it as a kid, but lost the taste for it as he grew older.” James. Right. The husband. Jealousy washed over you, and you quickly reminded yourself that she wasn’t yours. You didn’t understand how you formed such a connection with Alex in the month she had been with the BAU, but you felt drawn to her from the moment she walked into the bullpen. She was, undoubtedly, the most beautiful woman you had ever seen, and when you heard her voice, you thought you had died and gone to heaven. You wouldn’t say you were in love with Alex, but you were falling for her. There was no denying that.

You wondered if James was her soulmate, if she had a soulmark that beautifly painted her skin. It wasn’t something people talked about very often, many not even believing in such a thing, because of it’s rarity. You weren’t sure if it was appropriate to ask either, so you opted to stay quiet.

The ride back to the hotel was silent. You were too lost in your own thoughts to hold a conversation, and Alex could tell. This was a behavior you hadn’t exhibited before. She hoped you were just exhausted and that you hadn’t been traumatized by the evenings events, though she knew it was fueling your thoughts. She didn’t want to pry, but she was worried, so she parked the car and spoke up. “What’s on your mind, Agent?” She lightly teased, hoping it would help you open up, “And you can’t tell me nothing, because I can tell it’s something.”

“I guess,” you paused, wanting to provide a coherent thought while still being vague, “It’s the whole soulmate thing. I guess I just think it’s a little fucked up the universe handcrafted the perfect other half for every single person on Earth but couldn’t even make the bond between them unbreakable.”

“I supposed I’d have to agree with you,” she replied, pulling into the hotel parking lot “I also think it’s a bit cruel that the chances of finding ones soulmate is as low as it is. At least give people a chance.” You chuckled at her sentiment.

“Is James your soulmate?” The words are out of your mouth before you can even begin to debate asking her. Your eyes go wide and your stomach twists into a knot. Panicking, you manage, “Fuck, you don’t have to answer that. That’s super personal and I shouldn’t have asked.” Alex didn’t seem to be phased by your question, though.

“No, he’s not. And that’s okay,” she smiled, “But, secretly, there is a part of me that hopes I do someday.”

“Me too,” you replied, “Ever since I was little. I’ve always remained realistic about the odds of it actually happening, but I allow myself to dream a little.” You chuckled for a moment before lifting your styrofoam cup and pushing it towards Alex, “Here’s to dreaming, cheers.” Alex lifted her cup, bumping it into yours with a laugh.

“Cheers.” You both take hefty swigs of your now lukewarm hot chocolate before heading into the hotel for the night.

~

Conveniently, you had been bunked up with Alex for this case, so she was able to ensure you made it to bed safely. She walked you into the hotel room, her hand at your lower back, guiding you forward.

“Go take a warm shower and get out of those wet clothes. You’ll feel much better, trust me.” She took the blanket from you as you unwrapped yourself, and placed some fresh towels in your hand. You felt your eyes begin to well up and burn; the care she was showing you was unlike any you’ve received before. You felt safe and loved. You quickly turned your head to try and hide your emotion and made your way to the bathroom.

“Thank you again, Alex. I hope you know how much I appreciate your kindness.” you said before closing the bathroom door and clicking the lock.

Finally.

You were alone. Tears began to stream down your face as you looked at your reflection in the oversized bathroom mirror. You looked like hell. You were damp, muddy, and cold to the touch. Your lips, though returning to their normal pink, were still a light shade of blue around portions of their perimeter. All in another days work you think to yourself. You open the door to the walk-in shower and turn the water on to let it heat up. You inhaled deeply and closed your eyes as you began to remove your soiled clothes. Once your shirt and slacks were off, you made your way back over to the mirror to check for any cuts or bruises. Amongst your dirty form, however, sat two golden yellow and orange hand prints on either shoulder.

It can’t be. You stop dead in your tracks, unsure of what to do next. Instinctually, you rubbed your hand over your shoulder, trying to clean the print off, but it wasn’t working. Then you jumped into the shower, thinking the hot water and cheap hotel soap might do the trick. Of course that didn’t work, ruining your hopes it was just a sick prank or some sort. They were your soulmarks, and Alex was your soulmate. You knew instantly, remembering how she covered you up earlier. There was no denying it. Now you were faced with the task of telling her. You know it isn’t something you can hide forever. Panic takes over you. You know she wants to know who her soulmate is, and she deserved that, but you also know that she wouldn’t choose you. She said it herself, James wasn’t her soulmate, but she was okay with it. A knock at the door grabbed your attention.

“Everything okay in there?” She yelled,” You’ve been a while. I just started to worry, that’s all.” You hadn’t realized how long you had been in the shower, and now you felt guilty for keeping Alex up so late.

“All good, sorry, I’ll be out in a few.” You quickly turned the shower off and grabbed a towel to dry off. As you walked from the shower to the bathroom sink, you realized you forgot to grab your pajamas, so you were going to have to face this head on and nude. “Fuck,” you whisper to yourself. You looked back at your now clean reflection, admiring the marks on your shoulders. You couldn’t help but smile. Though you knew it would hurt like hell, you knew Alex deserved to know the truth. You took a deep breath and made your way into the room.

Alex was sat on her bed, hair pulled back in a clip, glasses hanging low on her nose, reading the book she usually saves for the plane ride home. She looked beautiful. You enjoyed this image of Alex for a moment longer. “Alex?” You said softly, drawing her attention away from her novel. She looked up at you and smiled. Her eyes flickered to each of your shoulders and then back to your eyes. Wordlessly, she placed her book on the nightstand, followed by her glasses, and stood from the bed. She slowly made her way over to you, never breaking eye contact. You were frozen in place, thoroughly studying her face. She didn’t seem to be upset in any capacity, nor was her emotion negative. She seemed curious and, dare you say, excited? The tightness in your chest loosened and your face flushed red.

Once in front of you, she paused for a moment before slowly raising her hands and placing them on your shoulders, perfectly covering your soulmarks.

“I knew it,” She whispered, smiling softly as tears prickled her eyes. “I knew you were made for me.” She moved one hand to cup your cheek, while the other remained on your mark. Alex had thought once or twice that you might have been her soulmate. There was no denying the connection she had with you, nor the attraction she felt towards you. And though she didn’t talk about it, she knew her marriage to James was over before she even started at the BAU. She cared about James, yes, but the two had grown apart over the years. She loved him, but she was no longer in love with him. You, however.

“I’m not sure what to say,” you replied, your smile wavering slightly. She was everything you wanted, but she was a married woman and your colleague, no less. You knew what you wanted, but you weren’t sure she would want the same. Would she think you were worth it? Alex noticed your hesitation, and pulled you closer. Her grip on you was possessive, as if she feared you would vanish from her arms.

“Tell me what you’re thinking, sweetheart.” You melted at the sweetness in her voice

and her choice of nickname. You would do anything she told you to, and that was a fact. “I need to know what’s going on in your head so that I can help.” She was so gentle. You knew if she rejected you it was going to hurt like hell and you didn’t want to risk losing a great friend.

“I don’t want to lose you, Alex. I know this changes things, but you’re too good of a friend to risk losing. You don’t even have to tell James. If you don’t have a soulmark already, I just won’t touch you and it’ll all be okay. But, I would be lying if I told you it wouldn’t hurt me. I care about you so much.” As you choked out your thoughts, you felt yourself begin to cry, but you didn’t stop yourself. Alex felt her heart breaking. “I wasn’t even going to tell you. I was going to try and hide it, but then I remembered what you told me in the car, and I didn’t think it would be right. I’m so sorry, Alex.”

“Sweetheart,” she says, interrupting your rambling, “Hold me.”

“What?” You weren’t sure you heard her correctly.

“I said,” she enunciated, closing the already small gap between the two of you, “Hold me. Please.” She grabbed ahold of your wrists and slowly wrapped your arms around her body. Your hands settled on her back knowing her soulmark would appear, and you pulled her close anyway, not that she could get much closer. You relaxed at her touch, as her hands returned to your shoulders and she rested her forehead against yours. “I want this,” she said, “Us. You and I against the world.”

“Alex,” you paused, “Are you sure? You have a husband and a stable life. I’m just me. This doesn’t have to mean anything if you don’t want it to.”

“I’ve been falling for you since the first case we worked on together.” she jumped in before you could get another word out, “I don’t think I’ve been more sure of anything. Besides, only an idiot would pass up a life with their other half.” She smiled and you followed suit. You were shocked that she felt the same, considering it seemed all odds were against you. The two of you stood in each others arms there for a few minutes, basking in the love and excitement of the moment, before you broke the silence.

“Alex?” You asked.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Kiss me,” You said. And without hesitation, Alex cupped your face and her lips were on yours. They were soft, like the fluffiest pillows money could buy. You fit perfectly together. No other kiss had ever felt anything like it, and you could tell Alex was pouring her heart and soul into it. You knew she was trying to tell you that this was real for her. You didn’t need much convincing though. Breaking the kiss, you smiled at Alex, and she smiled back.

“Let’s get some rest,” she whispered. And you did, better than you probably ever had before, thanks to Alex. She had fallen asleep laying on your chest with an arm around your waist. When you woke up the next morning, she was still in the same spot. You felt whole knowing that you had she wanted you just as you wanted her. Though you didn’t like to think about the future too much, in that moment, you knew there wasn’t anything you couldn’t do with Alex by your side.

#alex blake x reader #Alex Blake #criminal minds fanfiction #wlw fanfiction #raeswritingbingo #Mack Writes

[todd-writes]

babe wake up, jalph is canon

#lord of the flies #mack writes #lotf #lotf fanfic #lotf jalph #lotf ralph #todd writes

[todd-anderson-trash]

oooh i have a fic for charlie and stick now bc i’m hyperfixating and it’s gonna be slowburn i’m sorry-

#dead poets society #dps #dps charlie #charlie dalton #dead poets #dead poets fanfic #dead poets fandom #mack writes #charlie dalton x stick #dps stick

[sethgraysupremacy]

okay gang

#nick #nick bell #the extraordinaries #seth gray #seth #extraordinaries #gibby #jazz #gibby gibson #nicky #jasmine #jasmine kensington #lola gibson #fanfiction #mack writes

[softboyscully]

Running

PLEASE DO NOT REPOST!!!

“Liz,” Elizabeth’s father’s ghost murmured, a soft chuckle in his voice, looking much younger than he’d been when he’d choked to death on his own vomit. “Liz.”

Elizabeth stood in the doorway of her makeshift pottery studio, amongst the pastels she’d adorned her home in, staring at the depressingly gray man whose home she’d fled.

“Liz.” A final murmur of her name, and then he was gone, a breath of children’s laughter accompanying his departure.

One of Elizabeth’s pottery painting brushes rolled off the table and onto the carpeted floor, as if pushed by the calloused hand of the man who’d been haunting Elizabeth’s home since before he died, since before she’d moved across the country to escape his shadow. She grasped the brush from the floor, her slender fingers dwarfed in comparison to the huge brush. She held it out away from herself, pinching it with just her  fingertips, as if it were tainted with something she couldn’t bear to feel on her skin.

“Liz,” came his voice again.

She twisted the brush around and found it had something written on the side: You’ll see your complexion in my reflection, scrawled in her father’s illegible handwriting. 

Elizabeth did her best not to throw up, or maybe cry. That’s how they’d found her dad: dried vomit on his chin, tear tracks down his face, mouth open and smelling like too much beer. 

She knew what the writing meant: it was a message, a sign to check the mirror for the next hint. Her dad used to curate scavenger hunts for her. Liz used to run around their ailing house, twisting her fingers into holes her dad had punched in the wall, reaching for the next clue. 

Her mom hated the scavenger hunts. Liz would run down the stairs and pause, seeing her mom in the kitchen, her face like the curtains, drawn and tired and made up of mottled blues and grays. Liz would lock eyes with her mother, both of their hearts synchronously stopped, squeezed in some man’s strong hand, until her dad came up behind her, shadow falling over Liz’s small frame, and told her to keep looking, nothing’s in the kitchen. Liz kept running and her mom kept doing the dishes and her dad kept saying Liz’s name and screaming and punching holes in the wall until Liz ran all the way to California, and her mother died in the kitchen, and her father died in an alleyway, and Liz wondered if she’d die standing over her kitchen sink or if she’d die next to a dumpster smelling like beer.

Elizabeth dropped the brush and thought, distantly, that she’d need to get a new one: a new brush, a new job, a new home, a new life. It was ruined now.

#my writing #mack writes #tw abuse #tw physical abuse #tw unreality #tw supernatural #tw ghosts #tw family abuse #tw family issues #tw death #tw family death #tw family trauma #tw family dynamics #tw alcohol #tw alcoholism #tw substance abuse #...that was a lot of tws :/ #pls let me know if i missed any #original character #original writing #creative writing #this was for a class im taking but im kinda in love w it

[silvers-starrway]

So the wildest thing happened where @mactheactor decided to dub over (if that's even the correct terminology) the Chaos Sonic animation I made!!!!

I'm still in utter awe about this like, hands down the coolest thing ever I've been thinking about this non-stop. Hope y'all enjoy it as much as I do!!

#starrway art #sonic prime #chaos sonic #okay now that the nice text for the post is done AHHHHHHHH!!!! AAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!! #I've been screaming about this for the last 24 hours and the shock of it has worn down just enough for me to post this #NEVER WOULD HAVE GUESSED THIS WOULD HAPPEN IN A MILLION YEARS???? #Sonic Prime is what got me on this long hyperfixation in the first place and I've met so many cool people in the fandom #and generally having a blast making art and it's been such a great time #so to then have Deven Mack come in and think that my stuff is awesome is such an insanely cool thing #it means a whole lot is what I'm trying to say haha #I do have to like microdose on this video because it makes me so incredibly happy that I get very overwhelmed by it #In a very good way though it makes me want to run laps outside #thanks to everyone I've met/interacted with so far being some of kindest people y'all are awesome #idk if this post is even like coherent I've been writing it in my mind for the past day because I have no idea how to even go about this #ok good night hehehe

[strawberryspence]

this is ridiculously late but belated happy birthday, mackie! (@stevethehairington) everything you do is golden and being able to call you a friend is an honor. here’s some cheesy fluff for my friend. ily. 💛

“Where’s this one from?” Featherlight warmth spreads through Steve’s core. Eddie’s finger touches his taut skin, a memory weaved in between blood and skin.

Steve presses against the touch, “That one is from when Billy Hargrove broke a plate in my head.”

Eddie’s mouth gapes open, blinking at him in disbelief, “What now?”

Steve laughs, pressing his head at the blade of Eddie’s shoulders. He basks at the heat, like a kid in a summer field, remnants of passion and magic still in the air.

“Have I never told you that story?” Steve says, muffled as he presses kisses into Eddie’s shoulders, skin and scars making up his person.

“No?!” Eddie yelps, pushing him away gently, his face slacked with confusion and concern, “Does this look like the reaction of someone who knew that Billy fucking Hargrove broke a plate on your head?”

Steve smiles, pressing his thumb against Eddie’s forehead and smoothing the furrow away, “Well, I told you that story, right? Our second time with the Upside Down. It was around that time, when Billy attacked Lucas and we got into a fight.”

“Oh.” Eddie sighs, “I really don’t want to speak ill of the dead. But— Billy.” Eddie makes a face of disgust and cringe, that makes Steve laugh.

“Let me do one.” Steve urges on, making Eddie smile and nod.

There is something so magical with the way Eddie maps out Steve. Some nights, they stay up way past making love to learn every bit of skin. Steve never understood why, no one really stayed long enough to learn the stories burrowed in his skin.

Eddie says— like a person from an actual fucking fairy tale— that Steve is a map, a map of constellations and stories, all formed from years of journey and life. If anything, Eddie says, he’s very happy that he’s the first one to do it, to discover it, to write stories about it. Steve isn’t the best explorer, but he does his best to do the same for Eddie.

Steve lets his finger dance on skin, weaving through stories he hasn’t learned yet. He wishes— hopes— that his touch is just as gentle and as warm as Eddie’s and that it brings him the same comfort his touch does for Steve.

Steve pauses on a scar too small under his jaw, barely visible now that it’s been swallowed whole by bursts of scars from where the bats gnawed at him.

“How about this one?”

Eddie smiles, brown eyes lighting up with recognition, “Oh. You found that one, huh?” Steve hums.

“Well, that one I got from dancing on stairs. I was holding a fire truck, and I slipped and fell down the stairs. My mom said I was very smart and I was trying to brace for my fall, but the fire truck got me instead.”

Steve caresses the scar, like it’s still healing and bleeding in his hands, like the same way he did some months ago, when he found Eddie bleeding to his— almost— death.

“Did you need stitches?” Steve whispers, scared that it might’ve hurt for a younger version of his Eddie.

Eddie chuckles, smoothing over his hair and leaving a kiss on his crown, kissing away the worries, “Nope. Just bled a lot, but it did stop. Left a scar though. Had so much worse since then.”

Steve nods, pursing his lips into a smile, as his hands explore against bursts of red painted on Eddie’s skin. It’s the biggest most prominent scar, the ones they’ve barely talked about since they started exploring.

“Well, that one, I am not ready to talk about yet,” Eddie says, his hands shaking as it makes contact with Steve’s scar, directly mirroring his scar, “But one thing is for sure, it’s pretty fucking metal that we have matching scars.”

Steve chokes out a laugh, batting his hands away, “One day, when you’re ready to talk about it, it’ll be a story of survival and bravery.”

Eddie doesn’t speak, but he does pull him closer, forehead against Steve’s. That’s okay, if Eddie doesn’t believe it right now. He will, someday. Because that’s what healing is, bleeding and healing and living to tell the story.

It’s okay, because Steve will be there, until stories wrinkle and fold. To explore every scar and bump and listen to his stories as Eddie writes stories about bright stars engraved on his skin.

For now, he finds another one.

Steve smiles and says, “How about this one?”

#i dont know if this made any sense #they make me want to be cheesy #happy birthday mack!!! #two weeks too late now i think LMAO #but i love you and i hope you love this. #steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #dae writes #daeheadcanons #steddie headcanon #steddie hc #steddie ficlet #steve x eddie

[captainhysunstuff]

19 more images below the cut (WARNING: Some PG-13 saucy shenanigans ahead)

Part three of their date: an unconventional visit to a nearby alley so Light can clear his head and try to get to the point of the outing. The events lead him to becoming confident enough to move onto the next stage...

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#drawn by me #my fancomic #The Chain #Death Note #lawlight #L #Light Yagami #saucy shenanigans #smooch #Light’s Kira is showing #those face-sucking images were very intimidating to do #but they were fun after I got over it lol~ #I may share my other drafts of them making out and getting intimate that I did for this #it's pretty embarrassing XD #I gave up on the backgrounds. all that matters is that they're in an alley and there's a stack of boxes/wooden crates they utilize #happy early birthday L~ #they are macking normally I suppose #but I just couldn't bring myself to write the sound effects. you all know what making out sounds like yes? #wanted to write “smooch smooch smooch” but it felt ridiculous and probably would've killed the mood lol #the kissing does actually serve a purpose. Hint: It's why Light feels better about going to the next location #maybe I’ll get the next installment out before the end of the year. 😑

[montereybayaquarium]

One of these things is not like the other…

Ever stare at a silvery school of fish and notice one that looks different than the rest? Schooling fishes, such as anchovies, sardines, mackerel, and even tuna, often group together by size rather than strictly species. When a school of anchovies was added to the Kelp Forest years ago, a similarly sized jack mackerel slipped in with the bunch. Over time, it far outgrew its travel mates and has looked for other fish to spend time with; today, you might spot it hanging around the halfmoons. Next time you visit or watch the Kelp Forest Cam, take a peek and see if you can spot the elusive jack mackerel!

#monterey bay aquarium #holy mackerel it's monday #be a mackerel amongst anchovies #sea the jack mackerel be the jack mackerel #steinbeck writing about them like jack mack and the boys

[stevethehairington]

Eddie doesn’t tell the Corroded Coffin guys about his relationship with Steve. Not at first.

He knows they wouldn’t bat an eye at the fact that he’s got a boyfriend; they’re cool like that. But telling them who his boyfriend is? They're cool enough to accept Eddie being gay, but dating a jock? Dating Steve Harrington? Eddie isn’t so sure how they’d react to that. 

So he keeps that little detail to himself.

Not too carefully, though, as it turns out.

Eddie shows up to Wednesday band practice with a new ring on. It’s big, just like most of his rings are, but it’s a whole different breed of gaudy, with a huge emerald gem right in the center and thick lettering circling it and embossed onto the sides.

Gareth is the first one to clock it for what it is.

They finished up their first run through of their latest track (something new about a totally badass warrior who's beaten and battered and bruised, but won't let that stop him from throwing himself intro the fray) that Eddie just finished penning the lyrics for, then broke for a quick break and some water. Eddie stands across from Gareth, right hand wrapped around a water bottle, new ring on display. Gareth is close enough that he can make out some of the smaller details now — a paw print, the word ‘Hawkins’ right above it — and then it clicks.

“Dude,” he says, smacking his hand into Eddie’s arm. “You got a class ring? Since fucking when?”

Eddie’s face seems to go through several emotions all at once — confusion, surprise, a brief flicker of panic. It smooths over pretty fast after that, settling into something much more controlled, something much more collected after.

He switches the bottle to his left hand and flattens his right in the air, admiring the ring for a moment. “Oh, this?” Eddie asks with a chuckle, flashing it towards Gareth and the boys (who have all perked up in interest and shuffled closer), too fast for any of them to really get a good look at it.

“Holy shit, that is a class ring, what the fuck, Eddie?” Archie asks, face twisting up.

Jeff looks surprised too, squinting at Eddie’s hand, curiosity painted across his features.

Eddie doesn’t deign any of them with an answer, just sort of shrugs and drops the water bottle, replacing it with his guitar. He twists at the tuning keys on the head of his baby, ignoring it as Gareth and Archie erupt into a flurried back and forth of reasons why in the hell Eddie would be wearing one of those monstrosities.

Jeff is the only one to jump to his defense. “It’s weird, sure, but, like, is it really that bad? I mean, he spent six years there, so what if he wants to, like, commemorate it or something?”

Gareth and Archie turn twin what the fuck looks on Jeff, who just shrugs.

He doesn’t look too convinced of his own argument either — which is pretty merited. Eddie getting a class ring goes against, like, everything he stands for. He’s pretty sure he’s ranted about how stupid class rings are. How pointless they are. Plus, those suckers are expensive as fuck and Eddie has plenty of other, more important things to put that money towards. All things considered, they have every reason to be suspicious of it.

They all turn back towards Eddie, looking for confirmation or contradiction, but Eddie doesn’t offer them either.

He just gives the ring another short look, shrugs, and says, “So are we gonna get back to playing or what?”

And that’s that.

Except it isn’t.

Because at some point Eddie must have been playing with the ring, and he must have slipped it off, must have spun it around, must have stuck it back on his finger with the other side exposed. The side with the “1985” on full display. Big and bold and hard to miss.

And, of course, they notice that.

“Does that say ‘1985’?” Gareth asks, eyebrows pulled together and mouth curved down into a confused frown.

“‘85? Eddie, dude, isn’t that the year that you were supposed to graduate the first time?” Archie asks, just as baffled.

Jeff elbows him. “No, that was ‘84,” he corrects. “But he didn’t graduate in ‘85 either.”

“So why the fuck do you have a class of 1985 ring then?” Gareth questions. It’s hard for him to look menacing with that floppy hair of his, but he crosses his arms over his chest and fixes demanding eyes on Eddie anyways.

Eddie, once again, does not answer any questions. In fact, the only acknowledgement he does give them is a very casual, very nonplussed “Oh? Does it?” when they keep pointing out that the ring boasts “1985” instead of “1986”.

It’s pretty amusing, actually, listening to them trying to figure it out. But none of them come close to the truth. And Eddie certainly isn’t going to be the one to hand that over to them.

It goes on like this for a few more practices. The mystery of who Eddie’s class ring actually belongs to (because the boys have decided that there is no way it actually is Eddie’s. Not with the 1985.) continues to plague Corroded Coffin — before practice starts, during their breaks, in the aftermath of their jam sessions.

Eddie doesn’t stop wearing the ring, despite it, though. And he always finds a way to change the subject when Gareth, Jeff, and Archie bring it up, or he gives them stupid nonanswers instead that make them huff and puff.

It all comes to a head one day when practice is getting close to ending and a familiar maroon Beemer pulls up outside of Gareth’s garage. The engine cuts, and then out pops none other than Steve goddamn Harrington himself. 

The boys are vaguely aware that Eddie is on friendly terms with Steve, but they don’t know the full extent of it. They don’t know how deep it actually runs. And they certainly don’t know that they’ve been dating for the better part of four months now.

It’s almost funny how they didn’t even think to make that connection.

Until now.

Until Steve Harrington saunters his way up Gareth’s driveway and stops in the mouth of the garage, arms crossed loosely over his chest, head bobbing along like he’s actually enjoying the noise they’re making. There’s a certain look on his face, in his eyes — something pleased, something contented, something unbearably soft, as he watches them jamming out. As he watches Eddie jamming out.

They’re in the middle of a song, and everyone’s sort of lost in their instruments, lost in the music — except for Gareth. He spots Steve first. He sees that look on his face, follows his eyes to find them glued to Eddie. Observes for a few seconds, and watches as Steve’s stare doesn’t waver once.

He only has eyes for Eddie.

And that’s when it clicks.

Gareth’s hands stop moving, the drumbeat cutting off as his sticks just hover and he stares, slack-jawed. 

It takes a couple of seconds for the others to notice that Gareth stopped playing, and when they do they stop too and turn on him.

“Gareth, the fuck, dude?” Archie says, throwing his arms out.

“Everything good, man?” Jeff asks.

“Class of ‘85,” Gareth says, dumbfounded, finally pulling his eyes away from Steve to fix them on Eddie, who freezes in the middle of making googly eyes at Steve and slowly turns to meet Gareth's gaze. "No fucking way."

Eddie offers Gareth a sheepish, lopsided smile and a one shouldered shrug. "Surprise?"

#stranger things #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #gareth emerson #jeff stranger things #'unnamed freak' who has now been given the name archie lol #mack writes #macks ficlets

[mactheactor]

What do you personally think Nine's up to after the events of Prime?

Nine is my favorite Sonic character and there's so much story left to tell there.

I honestly think Nine's trying his best to return to his familiar life of solitude, but deeply misses the brief bond he was able to form with Sonic. The fact that he'll remain a major target of the Chaos Council just might be enough to grant him an uneasy alliance with the Resistance Fighters again, but there's very little chance of them actually being able to trust each other. He'd prefer that both sides just left him alone.

This is why, if he ever found his parts, I truly believe Nine would want to rebuild and reprogram Chaos Sonic to be his companion and protector. It's going to be very hard to completely let go of the closest thing he'd ever had to a friendship. He knows this bond is artificial, but at least it's something.

#sonic prime #miles tails prower #Tails Nine #Chaos Sonic #Beepo #sonic the hedgehog #deven mack #writing

[todd-writes]

NOOO RALPH

anyways if you send an ask with a number 1-202 i'll give you the line of planning that it is :)))

#lord of the flies #lotf #todd writes #lotf ralph #mack writes #lotf fanfic #fic snippet

[writing-for-life]

Neil Gaiman’s 8 Rules for Writing.

Art by David Mack

#neil gaiman #david mack #Neil Gaiman on writing #writing #writing advice #about writing #queue crew

[matchalovertrait]

Alex was feeling a little FOMO after knowing that Dulce and Rubiya hung out. Alex didn't persuade his parents into going to Tartosa or anything, though! That's so uncool 🙄🙄 Their hands aren't trembling either, guys. It's just chilly out today.

#they were walking by during my gameplay and i saw my chance and took it. so pretend this is NOT in tartosa. alex lives in sassari #poor lewis lives too far away tho 😔😔 why did i write that he lives in scotland? FOR REALISM????? bruh #alex marino #dulce alegria #rubiya jabal #lewis mack #tjolc gen 1 #ts4 simblr #tjolc #alegria legacy #matchalovertrait #sims 4 #ts4 #the sims 4 #sims #tjol challenge #sims 4 legacy