#mae writes

[fili-urzudel]

Second - Thorin Oakenshield x Reader

Summary: The reader realizes something about Thorin's priorities.

Part 2 Part 3

Word Count: 0.8 k

Warnings: slight cultural misunderstandings, a little heartache

"Thorin!" You called with a smile, striding towards him at your usual meeting place. It was just a forgotten, low stone wall among an even more forgotten old plot of land. But it had a great view of the sunset, and sitting against it kept the wind out on cold days. It had become one of your favorite places.

He called back to you, a faint grin accompanying it. "You're late."

"Perhaps you're early," you pointed out, jumping up to sit on the wall next to him. 

He gave one short chuckle.

"You seem preoccupied," you commented, trying to keep the comment light.

Thorin sighed through that long, angular nose of his. "I turn one-hundred years of age today," he stated. 

"I know," you said, drawing a small package from your bag. "Congratulations."

He swallowed. "It's been seventy-six years now, since I saw my home. The ravens still have not returned to the mountain."

Your brow furrowed. "Thorin, maybe it's best not to focus too much on that," you consoled. "Focus on living your life well and fully now, instead of just... waiting for that day," you said, instead of a day that may never come in your lifetime.

He didn't respond. "Here," you passed the package to him, pressing it into his palm. 

"What is it?"

You smiled dryly. "Open it and find out."

Thorin studied the round silver object. It looked almost like a ring—that meant something to most men. Or perhaps a bead—which definitely meant something to dwarves—but it was neither, having a narrow incision through it. "What is it?" He asked again.

"It's an ear cuff," you smiled. "I know that most dwarves like jewelry, but a ring or a necklace didn't seem right, and I don't know if you have piercings..." you trailed off. "So I figured an ear cuff could be a good compromise. I tried my best to sort of make it match your beads."

Thorin hoped his face didn't look as warm as it felt. 

To you, it appeared his mind was still far away from you. "Here, I can help you put it on." You turned to straddle the wall, brushing his hair away from his ear. 

Thorin tried his best not to shudder.

"Tell me about something," you requested. 

"Like what?" He tried to keep his voice even as you didn't drop his hair once the cool metal was wrapped into the shell of his ear. You ran your fingers through it instead, gently untangling the knots, your knuckles brushing his shoulder.

"I don't know, something important to you," you suggested, and he swallowed. Would he be able to tell you what hair meant to his people? To him? Would you stop? "Tell me about your creator."

He swallowed. "I suppose... Where to begin? Aule was one of the Valar, and Eru was the only one allowed to create life..."

You listened intently, humming with understanding, until at some point the sun was very nearly set and Thorin's head was in your lap. You didn't know how he had gotten there, only that you had never stopped running your fingers through his hair and he had never told you to. You thought you could stay like that forever.

"Do you remember what Erebor was like?" You asked, filling the silence after he told you about how the dwarves had only narrowly escaped being removed from existence. You felt him tense.

"No," he said, and it sounded as though he had never admitted that to anyone. "I was a child when it happened. I... I see glimpses, but... I don't remember what it was really like, aside from what I've been told."

You brushed another piece of hair out of his eyes after the wind had put it out of place. "And yet you still love it."

Thorin breathed for a moment before answering. "I do."

"You would do anything for a homeland that you hardly even remember?"

Thorin sighed, closing his eyes. "Perhaps it is not the Lonely Mountain that I love. It is my people. They deserve to have their home back. They deserve for revenge to be exacted on Smaug."

"You would do anything for your people," you said, and it was no question.

"Anything."

And me? You couldn't bring yourself to ask. You withdrew your fingers from his hair, balancing on the stones again. "I admire that about you."

Thorin sensed the shift in your tone. His eyes blinked open again, piercing blue staring into your eyes. "Have you ever had something that you would die for?"

"Die for?" You repeated softly, fidgeting with your fingernails. You gazed back at him, unable to look anywhere else. "Worse, I think. Something that I would live for."

#lotr fanfic #lotr #lotr fandom #the hobbit #lotr headcanons #the hobbit headcanons #the hobbit x reader #thorin x reader #thorin oakenshield x reader #thorin oakenshield headcanons #thorin oakenshield fanfiction #thorin oakenshield fic #mae writes

[kpopgirlbtssvt]

Does anyone know what Mrsmaeberzatto’s main blog is and if it was deactivated too? She deactivated this blog and I am devastated (@mrsmaeberzatto-deactivated20240)😭

I know she has a criminal minds blog, but o don’t remember what it is!

#carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto fluff #the bear #the bear fx #Carmy #Carmen #mutuals #jeremy allen white #Mae #mae writes #mae rambles #criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer x reader

[ideceivedthem]

sánguinis

type: smut

includes: afab reader, periods, period sex, blood kink, oral sex, religious symbolism, body worship, breeding kink

requested by: no one

ao3 link

It's nearly too hot in the room. Between your personal circle of hell making you feel like you're constantly overheating and the scalding sensation of his lips, it's almost too much.

But in its own right, it's heaven on earth too. It's worth it. It's divine. 

Gabriel kisses slowly between your thighs. His flat white teeth pause to nibble at your soft flesh and you make a hushed sound that goes straight to the fleshy organ that sits between his own. Your fingers thread into his locks of soft spun golden silk and give an urging tug.

"Patience." He whispers the word sweet and low. From anyone else it would be a command or a warning, but from him it's a promise with reverence buried in his tone. 

Cold breath ghosts over your burning core and your clit gives throbs of need that resonate with your heartbeat. Gabriel is merciful however, even as he mouths at the junction where your inner thigh connects to your pelvis. 

His tongue feels like anointed velvet when it slides across your folds. He licks a broad stripe over your pussy that ends in a teasing flick at that special bundle up top. 

'Teasing' perhaps isn't the right word. Teasing would imply that he's trying to irritate you, to poke at already sensitive nerves with the intent to inflame them further. No, he isn't teasing you with such actions, he's worshipping you.

Whatever he's doing, you're reveling in it. You keen, digits tightening in his hair, mouth agape with words lost on you. Your wordless praise spurs him on though, and he circles your delicate button with the tip of his warm muscle. 

He's then eating into you, lips and tongue and edges of teeth devouring you like the lion to the lamb. Your eyes clench shut so hard that you see stars in the blackness. 

The name of your archangel echoes from your throat as a mantra; the pitch increases with two long, thin fingers pushing easily into your heat. His lips close around your clit and he sups on it it, ravenous, while his fingers pump in and out of you. 

Your hot walls squeeze around him in response. Your nerves light up like a funeral pyre, blazing and intense with your sensitivity. He crooks his digits just-so and he hits where you need the attention the most. 

Your voice is damn-near angelic as you pant and mewl your eulogies with all the veneration of prayer. Your hips rock into the rhythm he creates as you chase the oncoming high like it'll bring true salvation.

Gabriel must sense that your climax is dawning on you so quickly (too quickly for his liking) because he slides from your body and he leaves a parting kiss on your bloody, hot lower lips. 

You crack your eyes open as you gaze down on him. Your chest rises and falls in shaking breaths. The sight of him betwixt your parted legs with a smear of deep crimson staining his beautiful mouth makes your concupiscence rear up its head like some great, dark, insatiably starved beast. 

Gabriel's features pull into a gentle smirk that makes your cunt ache and he wears it gorgeously as he licks your wine off of his fingers. 

"Tell me little lamb, how much do you desire?" He purrs the question. In the dim light, his normally crystalline blue eyes are like wells that you'd give the world to drown in. His arousal has his pupils blown so wide that they nearly consume his irises. 

You swallow thickly as you collect your thoughts. Your mind reels with the whiplash of having been so close to your breaking point and then suddenly back to total lack of stimulation. 

"I'd rather die, I'd rather spend an eternity in hell, than go another second without your cock in me." The words tumble from you as you watch him push up to sit on his knees.

He towers over you with zero effort, all slender and sinewy and spectral, already devoid of his satiny robe. The wings attached to his back add to his imposing figure as they sit at half mast, the color of clouds with underlining glints of gold that turn bronzy silver in the sliver of grey moonlight that carves through the bedroom. 

Evidence of his carnality lays heavy and hard against his leg, as shockingly and breathtakingly human as the rest of him appears, the slit leaking slightly on his pallid flesh. 

You nearly drool at the view presented before you, realize you haven't spoken in some time, and continue on. "I want you to fuck me like Adam did Eve. I want you to ravage me gently. I want you to lay with me like this is our wedding bed."

You see his cock throb at your words and he leans in closer, pushing your knees farther apart. 

"Was that your covert method of proposing to me, my dove?" Now he's teasing, and he takes enjoyment in the way your already blushing face turns a shade of scarlet. 

(Oh how lovely that would be, spending eternity on his arm at his side as his bride. How choice. How rare.)

"Gabriel, please." But your need has other ideas. You can fantasize about marriage later, for now your mind skips straight to the honeymoon. "Please, honey, I need you."

Hearing you beseech so softly sends a pang of want through his corporeal visage. Gabriel presses an incendiary kiss to your lips to put an end to your begging. After all, if you were to be his, wholly and completely and entirely his, you would never have to want without something to show for it.

You gasp brokenly against his mouth as the head pushes into you. Its girth splits you cleanly (well as cleanly as could possibly be extrapolated) and the overload of sensation has you clutching onto him, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your hands into his hair.

"Shh-shh my pet, shh-shh..." He hushes you, his whispers coming out with a tremor as he hilts fully inside you. Being this close, you can smell the metallic sweetness of your own fluids on his chilled breath. His hips roll gently to bottom out. 

The both of you sit panting there for a moment before he begins to push back and forth in rhythm. His pace is slow and easy, and he drinks in the sounds you make under him. 

Your fingers creep to the base of a wing and follow the downy trail of feathers up to where it crests slightly. The sensation of it has him cooing and murmuring in your ear and the sensitive limb gives a pleasured twitch. 

"My lamb, ah, my lamb, your touch..." Gabriel croons, and his tone gives away just how much he aches for you the way you ache for him.

The swing of his hips brings breathless sounds and trembly sighs from you and you can tell he's feasting on the chorus you're giving up so generously. 

His thoughts start wandering as he steadily increases his pace. He wonders, despite the way your blood flows around him, of the likelihood of you baring his child. His mind fills with the image of you with your belly swollen with his babe, a divine picture of fertility, his perfect Mary.

He's so thrilled with these ideas that his wings give a few uncontrolled flaps, the stimulation from your fingers adding to the current of euphoria.

"You will be mine forever." He murmurs, lips against your neck, feeling the thrum of your pulse under the soft skin. "You know that, yes? Who you belong to and whose you are?"

"I'm yours-" Your reply is a rushed tumble and you cant your hips upwards to catch his thrusts at a better angle. Heavenly light bursts behind your eyes and you sing delightfully with it. "I'm yours!"

Gabriel's wings flutter as he drives his sin into your soft willing body. His mouth is almost like hellfire against your flesh, branding you so that only he can have you. No doubt he's leaving sticky red oxidizing marks along your throat as well. The whole time he's whispering and chanting in your mind that you belong to him and him alone. 

Heat flashes hot and white through your whole being as you're suddenly wracked with your orgasm. It's like dying, like flying, like being tossed end over end as he slams into you through your climax.

He's gripping you close like he's scared you'll vanish suddenly, rutting into you like an animal as he chases the delicious pulsing warmth of your walls. He can feel you clutching him as well, blunt nails digging into his back and hand tangled in his hair, and it has his wings beating against the air nearly in time to your heart. 

Your name is like poetry on his tongue, twisted into art by ecstasy and prayer, as he finally spills his seed deep in your core, so searing that you could believe instead that it's actually freezing. His hips rock to a stop.

He stays above you, panting with you in the heady aftershocks that leave sparks in the corners of your visions. His wings twitch, a few pure feathers fall onto the soiled bedspread. 

He shifts to kiss you, in which you can taste yourself on him in a way that leaves you whining into his mouth, and leans up all the way. Gabriel is so wickedly, obscenely beautiful in the moonlight, disheveled and misted and wings hanging limp from his back.

"I love you dearly, my little lamb." He breathes the words, voice gravelly and low.

You manage a tired smile as he slides from you. "I love you too, my dearest angel."

#mae writes #the mandela catalogue #archangel gabriel #the mandela catalogue archangel gabriel #tmc #tmc archangel gabriel #tmc gabriel #gabriel tmc #archangel gabriel tmc #x reader #x female reader

[total-maehem]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Wednesday (TV 2022) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Wednesday Addams/Enid Sinclair Characters: Wednesday Addams, Enid Sinclair Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Family Issues, Soft Wednesday Addams, Enid Sinclair Needs a Hug, and she gets one, Enid's Parents Are Assholes Summary:

Wednesday returns to her dorm at Nevermore for the new semester and notices that her obnoxiously energetic roommate is surprisingly subdued. Somehow, Wednesday feels like that is a problem for her to solve.

Or

Enid Sinclair desperately needs a hug, and somehow Wednesday Addams is the one to do it.

#mae writes #wednesday #wednesday addams #enid sinclair #wenclair #fanfic #ao3

[maebird-melody]

Fic Stats Game

Rules: Give us the links to your fics with the most hits, second most kudos, third most bookmarks, fourth most comments, fifth most words, and your fic with the least amount of words.

Thank you so much @aowyn for tagging me! I’ve seen this one going around and it seems fun!

First most hits: The Last Time

After settling into his new anonymous life, Peter picks up a new coffee habit. But is it really just for the sake of routine, or is it an excuse to see his old friends? Peter resolves that today is the last time, and then he will truly cut ties with his past. After all, that's what he wanted, wasn't it?

You may not know this about me, but Spider-Man is my oldest and deepest obsession. I didn't like how No Way Home ended. I didn’t want to rewrite canon or anything, but I did want to explore how Peter (especially MCU Peter) would do a terrible job at staying away from his friends. Most likely this fic only has such a high hit count because the fandom is massive.

I wrote the first chapter of this fic as a oneshot, but it’s become a multi-chapter slow burn identity reveal fic now and I am atrocious at updating with any semblance of a reliable schedule. I’m trying to get a lot of it outlined and several chapters written before I start posting again.

Second most kudos: Glockwork

Sometimes, the answer is violence. In which Clockwork rescues Danny from the Guys in White in a more conventional manner.

Joining fandom events (especially for Danny Phantom) has resulted in several one-off crack fic ideas. This is one of them. My second-longest obsession after the Sam Raimi Spider-Man films has got to be Danny Phantom. I somehow managed to avoid phandom participation for nearly 20 years. And honestly, y’all are insane, but in a good way I think.

Glockwork isn’t even my joke. I just couldn’t think of a better pun than the meme this was based on. I am glad to have contributed any small part to fandom lore. Also, Clockwork with a gun is hilarious. The original art that inspired this fic was drawn by @ravenatural-art

Third most bookmarks: Waypoints

When an unnatural cold settles over Casper High, the trio know that something more than they can see must be going on. But their search for answers yields more than they bargained for. Ghosts are haunting Amity Park with their shattered memories. Only by reliving those memories can they free the mortal realm from ghostly influence, restore the broken cores, and ultimately, help the ghosts pass on. Yet there is a sinister force at work behind the scenes. Someone…or something…caused this. Who is pulling the strings? Why? And how do they make sure none of this happens again?

Another Danny Phantom fic! This is the piece I’m writing for Invisovang (yes, writing, as in present tense—I didn’t finish by the deadline it’s fine). My longest fic by far, it’s amazing what actually planning out your story will do for you.

Probably has so many bookmarks since I'm still actively updating it, and many people prefer to read completed longfics. Also, there are just so many Danny Phantom fics out there. If you want a fic that doesn't involve dissection, maybe this one's for you.

Fourth most comments: Geduldh’s Fate

In which Heisshitze learns of the consequences of his meddling in Ferdinand's affairs. SPOILERS FOR PART 4 VOLUME 8 It is the first Interduchy Tournament since Ferdinand left for Ahrensbach, and Heisshitze is feeling very pleased with himself for having orchestrated Lord Ferdinand's freedom from Ehrenfest. But as he is about to learn, no good deed goes unpunished.

My current obsession, Ascendance of a Bookworm! It’s a slice of life turned high fantasy political thriller light novel series. I highly recommend it. Let’s just say, I was unhappy with the turn of events in Part 4 Volume 8, so I wrote something to deal with that. Ironically, a lot of what I’d written and wanted to happen actually came to pass, if not in exactly the same way. This was also written at the turning point where I stopped waiting for the paperbacks and ended up reading all the way up through pre-pub. I haven't quite gone so far as to read to web novel.

Fifth most words: The Long and Winding Road

While traveling the West Road, Alistair becomes the unwitting guard of a merchant caravan. When he leaves camp later that evening to gather firewood, he meets a strange, enigmatic elf who is lost in the forest. They spend a brief time together before their paths diverge once again.

This was written for a Dragon Age event! It was a fic exchange in which people requested either romantic or platonic pairings with Solas. I picked the Solas & Alistair platonic pairing. I have them sharing a camp together for the night. It’s a very moody, contemplative piece, I like it.

Least words: Uthenera: Fen’Harel Ver Na

"I lay in dark and dreaming sleep while countless wars and ages past." This song blends the Lost Elf Theme and the Thedas Love Theme, and also introduces a new theme of my own devising which can be heard in the opening bars of the piece. This is a programmatic piece, which means that each part of the song represents an unfolding story. For program notes, see the end of this page.

Feels like cheating though cause it’s not words at all. It’s music. Dragon Age inspired music (though I did lift part of a theme whole cloth for this piece, it was too pretty to deconstruct).

Fic with the fewest words that is actually a fic would be A Terrible Bedside Manner.

By the power of fan fiction, the laws of time and space have been broken to bring us this little nugget: what if Richard Maxwell was working for Regis when he first came to Odyssey? This tiny bit of chaos was incredibly fun to write. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

It’s Adventures in Odyssey crack fic based on the two most compelling characters in the series, who also happen to be the villains (in a series that Did Not Need Any Villains).

I feel like most of y'all have already played by now. Well, if you've already done it, please feel free to ignore the tag! Or instead, share a fic of yours that you think is underrated and doesn't get the attention it deserves. :)

Tagging @imakemywings @seaglass-skies @the-oaken-muse @bibliophilea @sailorpunksenshi @theelibugs

#tag game #tumblr tag game #fanfic #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #mae writes #mae plays #my hypnos fic didn't make it onto this list which makes me a little sad

[maelerie]

Summary: In the aftermath of what would be known as the Second Battle of Ypres, Belgium finishes up her shift at the Field Hospital and retires to her tent. Her mind a whirlwind of emotions, exhaustion and strain, she does not realize that she is not alone when she ducks under the tent flap.

Author’s Note: This fic has been long in the works but I wanted to finish it for day 4 (prompt: historical) of @hwsrarepairweek2022​ and I believe I managed to do so in the nick of time. I'm really happy that I wrote this. EngBel is one of my ultimate otp's and the idea of them during WW1 gives me feels! 

Relationships: Belgium/England Rating: Mature Word count: 4.854

─ Flanders, May 1915 ─

The last rush of wounded men had finally ground to a laboured halt.

In the dark Belgium could see the taillights of the ambulance that had brought the last of the wounded in, growing ever smaller until it turned a corner somewhere on the uneven dirt road that led to the front.

Orderlies and nurses walked in and out of hospital tents, occupied and unoccupied stretchers between them.

The agonised cries that had pierced the night ─and the many nights before it─ had been replaced by a monotonous cacophony of more familiar and less dreadful noises. It made Belgium release a breath she had been holding since the first day the column of ambulances had swept round the drive and lined up one behind the other. Their bleeding loads hurried out of the vehicles so they could turn around to race back to the Front and receive more of the same shattered cargo.

Belgium closed her eyes and relaxed her brow, willing the headache she had been feeling for days on end to subside.

“Marie?”

Keep reading

#hwsrarepairweek2022 #engbel #hws england #hws belgium #historical hetalia #wwi #hws ireland #and also mentioned: #hws canada #hetalia fanfiction #fanfiction #tw injury #engbelg #aph belgium #aph england #ww1 #mae writes #mae writes fanfiction #god am i happy i finally finished this #i actually really like it #and i'm my own worst critic so #do with that info as you will #;)

[drabblesofthesoul]

maybe one day i’ll find out why the stars call to me

until then i’ll sit here listening to them sing

#mae writes #writeblr #drabbles of the soul

[stupidlyentangled]

i wanna write. but what fandom tho

#mae writes #help???? #havent had inspo for a ship in so long

[bunnybabymae]

SHE LOOKED SO SWEET

GETTING READY FOR HER BATH

I WONDERED IF SHE’D FIND ME

HIDING BEHIND HER PLANT

SUDDENLY SHE SPOTTED ME

AND MY HEART STARTED TO POUND

IS SHE IN A GOOD MOOD OR HUNGRY??

IT SEEMS MY LIFE IS SPARED THIS TIME…

#massive mae the giantess #maecitrine #mae writes #bunnybabymae

[raidenhaze]

you have to get a little lost on your way to being found

gen

1.6k

introspection

please check notes before you read!

click here to read

#genshin impact #childe #tartagila #ajax tartaglia #mae writes

[clairenatural]

Dean doesn't like the word "boyfriend." He decides this the second time Cas says it–the first time it was new, shiny, exciting. The second time, he fights the urge to cringe.

It's not the "boy" part. It's not. It would have been, for a long time, but he's dug all that shit up and unpacked all the suitcases. They hold hands in public. They kiss goodbye in front of his coworkers at the garage.

It's just–not enough. Not nearly. Jack comes home from hanging out with his friends and fills Dean on the gossip and his boyfriend and her girlfriend and–that's not them. "Boyfriend" feels like a cheap mockery. Like how demons used to tease.

He's heard "partner." He's heard it from Sam, to Eileen, but he doesn't know how he can stomach it. He's said that word too many times. I'm Agent Tyler and this is my partner, Agent Perry. This is my partner, Agent Page. My partner, Agent Stills. All lies. Sam says he likes it, that he's making it mean something real. Besides, Eileen loves it.

Good for them, Dean thinks. It makes his skin crawl.

So he sticks with “boyfriend” and he shrugs off the funny urge to protest every time Cas says it. It makes him happy, and honestly, it’s not like he has an alternative.

It’s a Sunday when he realizes that somehow, Cas does. They’re at the farmer’s market, like Cas is every weekend, but Dean had picked up weekend shifts and missed the past few. Cas is excited the whole way there, telling Dean about how he’d manage to befriend the local honey vendor in his absence, how she’d invited him to a beginner’s apiarist group she helps run. They beeline (heh) to the honey booth as soon as they get there, and the woman--Judith? Janice?--smiles up at them both, hands Cas a jar of honey like she’d been expecting him, and says “Oh, this must be the husband! I’ve heard so much about you.”

Dean stares at Cas. Cas stares at the honey. Judith/Janice stares at both of them, smile fading as the silence goes on a beat too long. 

Dean clears his throat. “Uh, yeah. The husband, that’s me! Ha ha.” Beside him, Cas relaxes, just barely. In front of him, the woman breathes an audible sigh of relief. “Sorry,” Dean shifts. “Just didn’t, um. Realize I was such a hot topic.” 

The smile he gets is almost sympathetic. “Oh, only good things. Here,” she hands him a business card. “You should also come out to our meeting on Wednesday. Lots of people bring their partners.” She leans in, almost conspiratorial. “Beekeeping can be wonderful for couples.”

It’s at this point that Cas clears his throat and finally looks up from the honey in his hand, evidently giving up hope on escaping this conversation. “Thank you, Janet.” (oh. Janet.) “Dean works late on Wednesdays, but I’m very excited to see you all.” He’s pulling out money as he says this, apparently deciding to just go ahead and end the entire interaction. He hands her the bills, grabs Dean’s hand, and is already moving away from the booth by the time Janet calls “See you Wednesday!” after them.

Cas drags him all the way back to the car without stopping for tomatoes, or Sam's carrots, or the free-range eggs that are way too expensive but Cas buys anyway because you can taste when the hen is well cared-for, Dean (whatever that means). They slide into the car, still not talking, and sit in silence for several long seconds. Dean stares at Cas, who stares out the windshield at the parking lot.

"I can explain," Cas speaks, finally, right as Dean was about to open his mouth and say anything to break the silence.

Dean pauses. Can you? Cause I feel like I missed a few chapters, he thinks.

"I don't work late on Wednesdays," he says instead.

"Oh." Now it's Cas staring at Dean, and Dean staring out at the asphalt.

He turns the keys. He drives them home.

Later, making dinner, Dean rolls the word around in his head. Husband. He's making his husband pasta (It's missing the tomatoes. He's made more with less).

Husband doesn't feel like a costume, like an ill-fitting suit and scratchy tie. It doesn't feel like high school gossip, or a monster trying to hit him where it hurts. It settles in warm in his chest.

It's just the two of them that night, and they're eating in the comfortable silence of the bunker until Dean clears his throat and brings it up. "Why does Janet at the farmer's market think we're married?"

Cas pauses, fork of pasta halfway to his mouth. He puts the fork down and takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry."

"I'm not mad," Dean hurries to clarify. "It's just that there's usually, uh. Steps, you know. Like a whole....thing."

"I'm aware." Cas sighs. "She assumed, seeing us around - the first time I spoke to her without you, she asked where my husband was. And I..."

"You didn't correct her?"

"...No. I, um." Cas is looking down at his plate again. He picks up the fork, still half-full of pasta, then puts it back down again. "I didn't want to?" He says the end of the sentence like a question but looks back up at Dean and squints just a bit, and Dean knows he's watching for a reaction.

"Uh huh."

"It felt trivial."

"To tell her we're not married?"

"To call you my boyfriend." For the first time, he stumbles over the word.

Dean blinks. "You--" he stops, brain processing too much information to finish that sentence. "Okay." He leans back in his chair. Sighs. Rubs a hand across his eyes and lets it drag down his face. "Okay, listen. I don't like boyfriend either, but we gotta...talk about it."

"We are talking about it. You don't like it either?" Cas leans forward as Dean slumps back, following him across the table.

Dean snorts. "No, man." He shakes his head. "It's been a decade. I've seen you die." Six times. But who's counting.

"I agree." Cas pauses, and then, as if it's the most natural conclusion in the world, "Will you marry me?"

Dean actually laughs at this. "You're asking me that now?"

Cas quirks an eyebrow at him. "I've grown quite fond of calling you my husband at the farmer's market. I'd like to continue."

Dean stares at him in disbelief. It's not how he'd pictured it going, but he also can't think of it going any other way. Slowly, he nods. "Yeah, okay. Let's be husbands."

Across the table, Cas grins at him.

"But we're getting rings," Dean points a finger at him, because something about this is going to be normal.

"If you'd like. Although I already told Janet that you can't wear a ring because of your work at the garage, and I don't wear mine in solidarity."

"Rings," Dean insists, and decides to overlook the rest of that sentence. For now. He stabs his fork into a pile of the pasta. "And let me stop for the damn tomatoes next time."

They get rings and wear them on chains around their necks. Cas puts a beehive on the hill, and there's a small ceremony in the summer - a "vow renewal" to Cas' beekeeping group, who all receive invites attached to little jars of honey. Janet gets the nicest one.

#mae clairenatural writing fic in the year 2023...... #go easy on me im rusty #i started this a year ago and decided to finish it and that was PAINFUL #destiel #deancas #destiel fic #1.2k words #my words

[fili-urzudel]

Dating Fíli Headcanons

More headcanons, lucky you!! I figured before I get too big of a collection I might want to post some content about the namesake of this blog lol.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 0.4k

- Y'all ever heard of The Belly (TM)?

- Literal heaven on earth cuddling with this man

- He is THEE best cuddler because: 1) bear 1a) belly 1b) hairy 2) he bathes regularly and makes an effort to smell good (look at that face and tell me he doesn't smell like lavender and thyme)

- He's more likely to fall for dwarrowdams than his brother, probably because he's just always been more appealing to his own folk

- He prizes how interesting and captivating a potential partner is over their rank, much to his family's chagrin (cue Kili aggressively cheering him on)

- He's a very diligent student, and the more cautious of the two brothers

- That's why he takes a while observing you from afar and making sure that he won't be wasting your time if he asks to court you

- That same studiousness makes him very attractive to you

- If he didn't know before, he quickly learns to cook at an artisan/Bombur level to impress you

- He plays the fiddle very skillfully, though he relies on you to come up with new tunes for him to serenade you with

- He loves to read, and if you do too, he will fall HARD when you can discuss the books you read together

- He learned to dance to impress at balls, but he takes to twirling you and waltzing with you in hallways, often early in the morning or late at night when no one else is around

- He definitely spends most of his time forging, however--where do you think all those knives came from?

- You'll have a whole collection before you even get married, with a few gauntlets/bracelets/necklaces in there somewhere

- He gets a huge confidence boost from you oohing and ahhing over his muscles, which thankfully you do often

- One form of affection you both share is playing with each other's hair--it's a perfect way to get each other to relax after long days

- Naps naps naps naps naps naps

- Once again, I cannot emphasize this enough: most ideal and best pillow because he is warm and soft and also he loves you what more could you ask for

#fili #fili x reader #fili x oc #fili x you #fili durin #fili durinson #fili fanfic #fili headcanons #the hobbit #the hobbit headcanons #lotr fanfic #lotr headcanons #lotr fandom #lotr #fíli #fíli fanfiction #fíli x reader #fíli headcanons #mae writes

[noctude]

don’t light my fire!!!

#this is wonky i had sudden 1am insp #don’t look at the writing too close i’m sorry . the song was too perfect 4 her #my art #mae nitw #night in the woods #nocgood

[ideceivedthem]

What are your basic headcannons for alt Gabriel, how do you see him, how does he act, who is he "REALLY", how is he to his s/o

oh yesyesyes!!! i have quite a few of these actually :)

basic headcanons:

+ he's 6'10 (about 208cm i think)

+ generally doesn't need to sleep but will when he feels like he's earned it

+ he's literally lucifer though so that is fairly often because he's vain lol

+ he nests to sleep with expensive bedding like silk sheets and goose feather pillows

+ he has wings but they aren't his, he stole them from the real gabriel since he couldn't shapeshift his own

+ in fact if you look at his back there's scar tissue like meshing where they're artificially fused to his skin

+ holy blood definitely didn't mesh well with his own, seeing as he's the lord of fucking darkness /reference, so he has chronic pain issues relating to his wings

+ his hair is deceptively (heh) thick and curly, kind of hard to brush through

+ smells like rosewater, lavender, jasmine, and frankincense

+ loves all things opulent because of his vanity

+ he holds hatred for his archangel brothers, especially michael

+ he can enter into holy ground but it causes an increasing sense of dread and paranoia the longer he's there

+ holy objects hurt him if he touches them, unless the objects weren't concentrated or have been used to commit sin

how i see him and how he acts and who he really is:

+ he's definitely former archangel lucifer, without a doubt

+ incredibly vain and prideful

+ sharp but can have a sweet side if you're lucky

+ you probably couldn't fix him tbh but we're all simps here so we can pretend lol

+ definite superiority complex, all humans* are beneath him

+ cunning and intelligent and knows exactly how to get what he wants

how he is with his s/o:

+ shockingly he views his s/o as equal to himself, after all a ruler needs a right hand of equal status to rule by his side

+ he's very sweet with his s/o too, doing everything in his power to make sure they have their every desire met

+ a tad possessive (but not, like, yandere lol that trope makes me so uncomfy and won't be written here)

+ his s/o has him at their every beck and call, and that's how he intents to treat them when they're ruling this mortal plane at his side

+ nicknames for his s/o include "lamb", "dove", "sweetling", and "angel"

#answered #mae writes #headcanons #the mandela catalogue #archangel gabriel #the mandela catalogue archangel gabriel #tmc #tmc archangel gabriel #tmc gabriel #gabriel tmc #archangel gabriel tmc #x reader #x male reader #x female reader #x gender neutral reader

[quotefeeling]

All you can do in life is to be who you are. Some people will love you for you. Most will love you for what you can do for them, and some won’t like you at all.

Rita Mae Brown

#Rita Mae Brown #motivation #quotes #poetry #literature #relationship quotes #writing #original #words #love #relationship #thoughts #lit #prose #spilled ink #inspiring quotes #life quotes #quoteoftheday #love quotes #poem #aesthetic

[maebird-melody]

Oh hey a writerly tag game! @tundra-tiger tagged me and it sounds like the name of the game is to drop the last 7 lines of the story you’re working on. Since I have no less than 5 projects going simultaneously, I wasn’t sure which to go with, and since I’m technically in revisions on most of them, I wasn’t sure if I should grab the latest revised section or the actual end of the work.

I decided not to count any of my fanfics and only look at my original fiction for this, ultimately deciding on the last lines I had written of the initial draft of my largest project from before I began revisions.

Cordelia’s perspective during an aetherstorm that happens close to the midpoint of the book:

Amidst this chaos, no one seemed to notice Cordelia slipping from below decks, wandering up the stairs to gain a higher vantage for watching the storm. Had her brother stopped and marveled at the storm which took his life? If he were here now, would Gideon chastise her for being reckless, or would he understand her delight? Would he stand with her in the storm and watch its beauty unfold?

Where before the storm had been almost silent, the aetherwinds now stirred up a cacophony of noise, like the voices of a thousand howling nightprowlers. The wind threatened to steal the scarf from her head. Cordelia held it in place while she used her free hand to hoist herself up to the forecastle deck for a better view.

Tagging @thinkithinktoomuch, @imakemywings, and @alondradina, if you’d like to play. Make a post and share the last seven lines of the story you’ve been writing most recently (unless it’s a secret for a gift exchange, of course).

#writing #inkbound #my writing #mae writes #cordelia crane #she is a reckless little princess with no sense of self-preservation #science fiction #fantasy #I promise I'll finish this novel someday