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middleearthpixie · 11 months

Note

Can you please write a fic where Thorin falls in love with a human girl, but he thinks she is disgusted by his looks? 🙏

Hi there, Nonny!! I know it took me forEVER, but here you go and i hope you like it! 💜

The Harp

Summary: You and Thorin are friends, but then you find out his feelings for you run deeper, and he’s holding back because he feels he is not good enough for you.

Pairing: Thorin x fem!Reader (post-sack of Erebor, pre-quest for Erebor)

Warning: None. Just fluffy fluff

Rating: G

Word Count: 4.7k

***

He came into the dining room at the same time each evening and always sat at the same table—the one in the far corner, which was also the darkest corner of the room. He was polite, but kept to himself and you noticed how he always sat with his back to the wall and rarely did his eyes pause from scanning the room.

The other diners eyed him with just as much suspicion but then again, they all eyed each other with suspicion as well. It was second nature to this lot, as they came from all four corners of Middle Earth. No one was actually from Emyn Vanya. No, every warm body had come from somewhere else to this tiny village on the outskirts of everywhere and yet somehow in the middle of nowhere. Some came to start over. Some came to forget. Some came to do both and some were just passing through. But everyone was from somewhere else and almost no one wished to discuss where that somewhere else might be.

You couldn't help but notice him, for he was a dwarf and the Grey Gander did not see many dwarves in their dining room. And not only that, but he was a handsome dwarf, to boot, with black hair, touched here and there with hints of silver, that spilled over his shoulders in a long tangle of curls. His most striking feature was his eyes, however, for they were the most piercing shade of icy blue you’d ever seen. There was a hardness within those pale eyes, one belied by his polite demeanor and deep, if soft, voice.

Night after night, this man came in alone. He sat alone. He spoke to no one other than you when you approached to take his order, just as you did this evening. He was polite, if reserved, and spoke only when absolutely necessary, which was an interesting change from the patrons who grew louder and more opinionated as they dove further and further into their cups.

“Welcome back,” you said with a smile as you approached him. “Might I fetch you a drink to begin?”

“Thank you. A tanked of ale would suit.”

“Of course. And do you know what you’d like or are you still trying to decide?”

He looked up at you with those striking eyes. “The hunter’s stew.”

His order never varied and you were certain you could just bring him a bowl of the stew without asking, which was why you couldn't resist a bit of playing with him. “I think we should start calling that your usual. Perhaps we should change it on the menu itself.”

That earned you one of the dwarf’s rare smiles. “I am not so certain that is necessary.”

“Well, you’ve been in here eight of the last ten nights and have yet to order anything different.” You couldn’t help teasing him. You sensed a hint of sadness in him, one that might explain the hardness in his eyes. And while it was a bit of a risk, teasing this man you didn’t really know, you had to admit, his smile made the risk worthwhile.

“But,” you added, taking your teasing further than you normally did, “you would have to tell me your name first. I certainly cannot ask to rename it Dwarf Stew. That would give the wrong impression, don’t you think?”

A darkness flashed through his eyes and you knew you’d overstepped. Your mind raced as you struggled to come up with something to smooth over his obviously ruffled feathers, knowing your employer would be furious if your flippancy drove away a paying customer. “I mean… that is… I apolo—”

“No,” he interrupted softly, shaking his head, “there is no need to apologize. And you’re right, it would sound odd. So, I suppose then, it would only be fair to tell you my name, wouldn’t it?”

Your heart beat a little faster at that. Perhaps it was but your imagination, but his voice sounded lower than it normally did. Lower and bit growlier. Had he, by any chance, noticed you the way you’d noticed him?

No, that was madness talking. Very few people noticed you aside from being their serving girl. You tended to blend into the background far too easily and since so many people in Emyn Vanya were only passing through, they paid little heed to you.

Still, that didn't stop you from replying, “It would, yes.”

To your surprise, that earned you a laugh. A genuine, honest-to-goodness laugh and one that sent flutters through you as it rolled across the small table in your direction. Like his voice, it was low and silken, and those flutters made you forget your own name for a moment.

“Very well,” he nodded, his eyes meeting and holding yours, “I am Thorin.”

You offered your name in return and added, “It’s wonderful to make your acquaintance, Thorin.”

“And yours as well.”

Heat climbed into your cheeks and you ducked your head, saying, “I will be back in a few moments with your ale,” you hesitated, then added, “Thorin.”

“I will be here.”

Thorin sat back as you darted off and couldn't believe his cheek. What had possessed him to even think to flirt with you? Your interest had to be only because he was a paying customer, because there was no way a woman as beautiful as you could possibly be interested in him.

The first time he stepped into the Grey Gander, he’d noticed you at once, noticed how easily you smiled and joked with the tavern’s patrons. Your laughter was a silvery melody that made everyone turn in your direction and smile even if they had no idea what it was that made you laugh.

He noticed everything about you—from that amazing smile and intoxicating laughter to your beautiful eyes and easy grace with which you moved about the crowded dining room. You never seemed impatience, or irritated, and even when someone gave you a hard time about something, you never lost your temper and somehow managed to defuse the most volatile of situations.

The second night he’d come in, he’d witness such a scene, almost reaching for his sword, propped against the table, when the giant of man actually grabbed you by the arm. He had no doubt he’d have intervened if you needed it, but you didn’t. You smiled at the man as you peeled his fingers from your wrist and very sweetly informed him that if he touched you again, you’d turn him from a rooster to a hen in one fell swoop.

It was at that moment, Thorin lost his heart.

A foolish notion at best, as you would never feel about him the way he did you. Why would you? He was a dwarf. He had no home. He had been in line for a throne, but now supported himself by moving from place to place, taking work where he could find it.

That was what brought him to Emyn Vanya. His trade was blacksmithing and the village needed one. So, there he was, in the dining room of the Grey Gander, admiring you from afar and wishing he stood a chance at winning your hand.

It was just as well, for what did he have to offer you? A king with no kingdom was no better than a pauper, really. Not to mention, he certainly couldn’t compete with the men of Emyn Vanya, who were all taller, slimmer, and far more attractive than he certainly was. You would be a fool to even consider him.

But, he watched you from afar, watched as you moved from table to table, how you brought a beaming smile to the face of an old crone, how you soothed angry children bickering over a toy, how you made a crying infant smile by making silly faces until they could do nothing else.

How you focused on him as if he was the most interesting man in the room and not, for lack of a better phrase, a homely, homeless refugee.

If only…

He sighed as you approached with a tankard in one hand. His heart beat so much faster when you met his gaze. His mouth went as dry as the plains between his lost kingdom of Erebor and the city of Dale after the dragon Smaug torched it from one end to the other.

You set the tankard before him. “Your supper will be ready in but a few minutes, Mr. Thorin.”

Mr. Thorin. He smiled, shaking his head. “No Mister. Thorin is just fine.”

“Oh, well that wouldn’t be proper now, would it?” Your eyes almost sparkled as your easy smile curved your lips. “After all, we only just met.”

“This is true,” he nodded, reaching for the tankard. Then, on impulse, he added, “Perhaps you might join me one evening?”

You looked taken aback and he immediately berated himself silently. You fool! What is wrong with you?

But then you smiled. “I think I would like that. I have an off night tomorrow. Would that work for you?”

He was stunned, not only by your agreement, but by your suggestion. No woman ever approached him that way. He’d always been the one to ask. You were bold and he admired that. So, he nodded. “That would work just fine for me.”

“Wonderful. What time?”

“Half seven?”

“Half seven it is,” you told him. “And I’ll be back in but a moment with your supper.”

****

What were you thinking? How could you just blurt out an invitation to him that way? He must think you a harlot, or a wanton woman for doing so.

But at the same time, as you smoothed a hand along your skirts, you had to admit, you looked so forward to seeing him without having to wait upon him. It was a nice change of pace for you. A break in the monotony of your life that was work, sleep, and more work.

You’d told him where you lived, a rundown little flat above the florist’s shop, and at half eight, when the knock came at the door, you nearly jumped clear out of your skin. Then, laughing at your foolishness, you hurried to the door, before he thought you’d changed your mind and left.

You smiled as you pulled open the door. “You are early.”

“I allowed myself extra time in case I found myself lost. I’m still new to these parts and this town takes a bit of getting used to.”

“If you remember the streets run east and west, and the avenues run north and south, you might fare better.”

He bobbed his head. “I would, but there are three florists on this street alone.”

“It is a very competitive business in Emyn Vanya.”

“So I’ve noticed.”

You hesitated a moment and then stepped aside. “Come in.”

As he stepped over the threshold, you tried not to dwell on how shabby your flat was, with its scratched and scuffed hand-me-down furnishings. After you paid your rent and made certain there was food on the table, there was not much money left for luxuries such as nice furniture. Normally, it didn't trouble you. This was your home and you thought it cozy, if a bit rundown. But, when you tried to see it through Thorin’s eyes?

You saw exactly how awful it must have looked to him. Threadbare sofa. The armchair had a hole in the cushion thanks to a broken spring, which meant that not only was stuffing peeping up from the hole, one received a nasty poke in the backside, should they think to sit there.

And of course, there was that awful water stain in the far corner. You had no idea from where it had come, only that no matter how much you tried to paint over it, it bled through. You’d given up trying when paint fell into the luxury category.

But, he reached up for the frogs at his throat and then whisked his cloak off to drape over his arm. “This is lovely.”

Lovely? You looked about, wondering exactly what he found so lovely about it. “It’s a bit… ah… worn, don't you think?”

“Lived in, is how I would describe it.” He smiled at you. “Homes should be lived in. That is how they become such. Otherwise, they are but houses, flats, nothing more than buildings.”

You looked back at him. “Lived in?”

He nodded. “Lived in.”

Then he looked back at you and for a moment, you were rendered speechless. Did he have any idea whatsoever as to how handsome he truly was? Because if he did, he certainly did not act as if he did.

Of course, you kept that to yourself, especially when that night, a deep friendship was born. You had dinner together on the nights when you weren’t working. You spent off days together, sometimes running errands with each other, sometimes just doing nothing. He had a knack for the acrostics printed in the village newspaper and the two of you spent your share of days or nights looking up which answers you thought would work. It didn't matter. He had quickly become your dearest friend and while you loved that, you’d also begun thinking that perhaps there was a bit more to your relationship than only friendship.

It was too bad he’d never given any indication at all that he saw you as anything more than a friend.

So you stayed quiet. Autumn gave way to winter and the Yule holiday was only a few days off when you made your way to Thorin’s forge at the northern end of town. A bitter cold wind whipped down the narrow alleyway where his shop was located and you didn't have to look to know you were near it. The carved wooden sign identifying the forge creaked on its hooks as it swung in the wind. Through the swirling snow, you could still make out the word etched into the wood.

Blacksmith

Beneath that word, Thorin had carved symbols as well, and when you’d asked, he’d smiled and explained that they were a language called khuzdul, which was his native language, actually. He’d attempted to teach you some of it, and showed nothing but patience as you fumbled over seemingly simple words. Little by little, though, it became easier and left you wishing you had something like that to share with him.

But then you found something. One night, over several goblets of wine, he confessed that he once played the harp, but had lost his when he’d lost his home, but that was all he would say about either the harp or what happened to his home. So, you’d saved a bit of your pay each week and put it aside and then went to the music shop at the far end of town and found what you’d hoped would be a suitable replacement harp. It wasn't a big, grand instrument, as those were far beyond what you could ever hope to afford, but you hoped he’d like it the same. You couldn’t remember the last time you were so excited and impatient to give someone a gift as you were this one, which was why you braved the worsening weather.

So there you were, at the far end of a gray-shingled building with a roof in need of repair, listening to the almost melodic sound of metal striking metal. The closer you drew to his workshop, the warmer the air grew and as you rounded the corner, a blast of heat hit you square in the face. It was a welcome sensation as your cheeks felt quite numb from the cold.

He had his back to you and heat shot through you at the sight of him, shirtless in deference to that blasted heat, the muscles in his back and along his shoulders bulging as he held a piece of iron in one hand, a hammer in the other. The clang rang through you when he brought the hammer slamming against the iron, again and again and you couldn't help but just stare.

Your eyes roamed over his naked back, heavy with obviously well-earned muscle, and inked with black lines of varying sizes that covered his entire shoulder, stretched across his back, and into the opposite shoulder as well. You had no idea what the symbols and lines meant, but they looked very similar to the ones carved into the forge’s sign, so your guess was they were dwarfish runes or words.

The heat in the forge was brutal regardless of how cold it was beyond the walls. Sweat prickled along your back as you stepped closer. You didn't want to startle him. The iron with which he worked began with an orange glow, but slowly, as he pounded it flat, the glow faded and when he set down the hammer and used a pair of tongs to pick up the flattened piece and thrust it into a tub of water, steam actually rose from the tub.

“Thorin?”

He jumped, letting go of the tongs as he spun around and now heat shot up into your cheeks at the naked chest you found yourself staring at. Like his back, his chest was just as broad, with black hair swirled from one nipple to the other and down across his belly. More symbols had been inked across it, meeting with the design on his left shoulder.

“I am so sorry,” you stammered, tearing your eyes from that impressive sight to meet his startled blue eyes, “I was trying not to startle you.”

“What are you doing here?”

You hugged the package close. “I had to go and pick something up and thought while I was out, I’d stop by.” You peered around him, at the iron still resting in the water. “What are you making?”

“A sword.” He reached for the towel draped over the workbench and swept it across his forehead. “You should not be in here. It’s far too dangerous.”

“I will come no closer then. But tell me, who commissioned the sword?”

“No one. It is mine. I work on it when I’ve a bit of free time.”

“Might I see?”

“It’s not even close to being finished.” He came around the bench and stood before you. His black hair was damp at the temples.

“You don't have to stop on my account, you know.” You took a step closer to him, the urge to reach out and touch him so powerful, it nearly overwhelmed you. You wish you had the courage to tell him how you’d come to feel about him, as you’d had when you’d left your flat. You’d left there full of fire and determined to confess your feelings for him, but unfortunately, by the time you reached his forge, that courage evaporated like the water in the tub had.

“It would be rude of me to continue.”

“Not at all. I think it would be fascinating, watching you work.”

His gaze shifted slightly to his left and you followed it to see what he looked at—a heavy dark gray henley lay draped over a chair by his desk. Without thinking, you shifted the package to one arm and reached out to catch him by the upper arm as he stretched for his shirt.

“Wait, don’t,” you said, shaking your head.

“Don’t?”

You nodded. “I—what is this?” You traced your fingertips along the thick black lines curving his shoulder, unable to believe your own brazenness but unable to halt your touch as well.

“It’s my… my… it’s a raven,” he managed, his voice deep and huskier than usual. He cleared his throat. “The symbol of my clan, and my family crest.”

You could not keep yourself from tracing along those lines as little by little, the image of a raven wearing a crown slowly showed itself to you. You’d held back from telling him how you felt for so long, now that the opportunity to perhaps go beyond friendship had presented itself and you were not about to let it slip by. But… you had to be careful. It was a delicate matter and that called for delicate handling. The last thing you wished to do was destroy your friendship with him.

With that, you lowered your hand “It’s lovely.”

“Thank you.”

“This is for you, by the by.” You pressed the package toward him. “I know Yule isn’t for several more days, but when I went to pick this up, I grew far too impatient to wait.”

He stared down at it. “What is it?”

“Well, you have to open it to find out.”

He took the package and slowly unwrapped it and then just stared, his blue eyes growing shiny as he murmured, “How did you know?”

“You told me, silly.” You nudged him with your shoulder. “Remember? We were talking about how my neighbor plays the harpsichord and how awful it sounds and you told me you once played the harp. So, I asked Mr. Trumble if he could find me a harp for you and he did me one better. He made this.”

“He—” those blue eyes met yours, wide and incredulous—“made this?”

You nodded. “He did, indeed.”

He gazed down at the harp, and then back at you. “I—this—this is beautiful. I thank you.”

“There is one condition to it, however.” You nudged him once more. “You must play it for me.”

“Oh, I couldn't now. I’d be far too rusty.”

“Well, once you flake off all the rust.”

“Fair enough.” He offered up a smile brighter than any you’d ever seen from him. “You shouldn’t have done this, though. Save your wages, don’t spend them on me.”

“I didn't mind.” You shrugged as if you spent that kind of money all the time. “And it’s Yule, so it was but a small sacrifice.”

He stepped closer. “This is the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for me, you know. I will treasure it. And you.”

And with that, he leaned in and to your surprise, pressed his lips to yours. You froze at first, caught by utter surprise, as this was the last thing you’d expected him to do. For one maddening moment, you wondered if perhaps you were just imagining it.

But then, his lips moved softly against yours and your toes actually curled in your sensible boots when he brought his hands up to cup your face, and you knew that this was, in fact, actually happening. And how wonderful it was! The sensations that rippled through you were soft and sweet, the crisp, coarse hair around his mouth tickling at first, but then you found you didn't mind it so much as it was a caress of its own.

Your head did a slow spin, his kiss leaving you lightheaded and when your hands came to rest on those massive upper arms of his, your fingers pressed into muscle that greatly resembled stone of their own accord. You were afraid your weak knees might buckle on you at any moment.

His kiss was slow and sweet, teasing and gentle and when his lips parted and his tongue swept gently along yours, your head spun even faster. A rush of heat swept through you. Your lips tingled. Your heart beat harder and faster and it took every bit of will you had to not melt right into his arms.

When he drew back, his eyes were soft, swirling with an emotion you couldn’t quite place and he seemed as breathless as you were as he murmured, “I’ve wanted to do that for a very long time now.”

“What?”

He nodded. “I do and I did and now I just want to do it again.” Then he paused, a hint of sheepishness creeping into his smile, into his eyes, “Unless, of course, you’d rather I didn’t.”

“No, I’d not rather that at all,” you told him, smiling as you curved a hand against his cheek. “In fact, I’d like it very much if you would do it again. And again. And I think you should keep doing, no matter where we might be.”

A low chuckle rumbled up from the depths of his chest. “So, I am not about to send you screaming into the snow?”

“Hardly.”

“Are you certain? I mean,” he rubbed his bearded jaw ruefully, a sheepish smile coming to his lips, “I know people whisper about me and poke fun at me behind my back.”

“They whisper about you because they are fascinated by you. And no one pokes fun at you. I know they think you’re quite an excellent smithy, judging by what I’ve heard. And I won’t even tell you what the women say about you.”

To your surprise, his sheepish smile faded and a darkness came to his eyes. “I can only imagine.”

“Have I said something wrong? I thought I was complimenting you. Do dwarves not like to hear how handsome they are thought to be?”

“Handsome?” He snorted as he shook his head. “That’s kind of you, but I’ve seen my own face and that is not how I’d describe it.”

“Well, perhaps you should but have Mr. Sinclair examine your eyes, for you are not only handsome, but very handsome.”

He stared at you, clearly not believing a word you said. “Thank you, but you are just being kind, as you’ve been since we met.”

“Thorin,” you caught his hands in yours, “I’ve been wishing you’d notice me as more than simply your friend, that you’d kiss me, and perhaps I’ve been too brazen in taking the first step. If you wish me to leave you alone, I will.”

“Leave me alone?” His eyes went wide and he shook his head once more. “No, no, I don’t wish that at all. In fact, I—”

A scarlet flush swept up into his cheeks and he went quiet. You waited for him to continue, your heart hammering away at your ribs. All you wanted was for him to pull you into his arms, to tug you flush against that massive chest, and kiss you until you forgot your name.

“You what?” you asked softly.

“I lied. About the sword.” He smiled then. “It’s for you, actually. For Yule. I meant it to be a surprise.”

“For me? But I don't even know who to wield one.”

“Worry not, for I will teach you. When the weather breaks.”

“You did this for me? You would do that for me?”

He nodded. “I would do anything for you, you know.” His eyes softened then as he smiled. “I love you.”

This was the last thing you ever expected him to say and you could only stare at him for a long moment, as your stupid brain forgot how to process words. The best you could muster was a whispered, “What?”

“I love you. I’ve been wanting to tell you for some time now, but how could I when I thought you would be embarrassed to be courted by me. So, I relegated myself to knowing we would only ever be friends, but now…”

“Embarrassed to be courted by you? Are you mad, Thorin? Are you absolutely and completely mad? Because you would have to be to think any woman alive would be embarrassed to be courted by you.” You shifted to wind your arms about his neck. “And no one has ever made something for me. At least, not something as beautiful as a sword. So, if I didn't already love you in return, I would have most definitely fallen at this moment.”

He smiled. “So, all this time, it would’ve only taken a sword to win your hand?”

“I’m a very simple woman, Thorin. You should know that by now.”

Your heart skipped a beat as he eased his arms about your waist, pulling you flush against him. He leaned closer, his lips just brushing yours as he murmured, “I’ll keep it in mind.”

You tried to think of something witty to reply with, but then his lips met yours once more and rendered words unnecessary.

***

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#The Hobbit #Thorin Oakenshield #Hobbit Fic #Hobbit Fanfic #Fan fiction #The Hobbit fan fiction #AU #Thorin Fic #Is it hot in here?#Romance #Richard Armitage #Thorin x reader #Thorin x you #nonny asks #pixie answers

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iztea · 5 months

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*handing u a very crinkled fake dollar bill* can i bribe you to draw pixie cut femzai omg omg

a sketch just for u anon consider me bribed

#does this count as a pixie cut idk #ask iztea #kinda digging this ngl #i've seen a few tweets complaying about the lack of butch/masc femzai designs recently #so this also goes to them

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rebouks · 4 months

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Previous // Next

Wren: What’s that one? Ivan: You tell me… Wren: An octopoop. Ivan: [snorts] Close enough. Wren: That one’s weird. Ivan: That ain’t a tattoo, it’s a scar. Wren: From what? Ivan: Ohh, I don’t remember now-.. prolly chickenpox or somethin’. Wren: [giggles] I gave Ava chickenpox. … Jude: It’s like she doesn’t even listen to me sometimes, n’ her stupid boyfriend doesn’t help. [Robin clung to his pool noodle, ears ringing painfully. He knew too much already; he didn’t want to know more but it was impossible to tune out-.. like being forced to watch a gruesome car crash] Jude: Who wants to go to some snooty grammar school, anyway? There’s even a test to get i-.. hey, are you okay? Robin: Uh y-yeah, I’m fine… Jude: Maybe we should get out, you don’t look so good. [Collective noises of disgust – frantic splashing] Oscar: It’s a rite of passage to hurl in a public swimming pool, bud.. don’t worry about it. [Robin trudged after his father, hot with embarrassment. Disjointed memories weren’t quite enough to paint the entire picture of Oscar and Ivan’s past, but he’d seen enough to know it was bad-.. very bad]

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minecraftnewsnetwork · 1 year

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For anyone wondering: we never did find the seed for the Limited Life server. But we're all a bit insane, so with a bit of time and dedication, and the combined efforts of Pixie, Lyric, and team member Lavi, we managed to recreate a large portion of the map almost block-for-block. It made for one heck of a finale closer, and we had a blast putting this together!

...we almost might just be insane enough to try and expand this project out to the other known areas of the map, just for fun...but that's a project for another day. :3

Time elapsed while working on this: over 24 hours in total

#Limited Life SMP #LimLife #24Lsmp #Limited Life #Trafficblr #Traffic Life SMP #Limited Life Rebuild Project #Reporter Pixie #it should be known that I now have minor one-sided beef with Martyn Inthelittlewood #Because (at no fault of his own) my few attempts at asking if the 24L members would be willing to share the seed went TOTALLY unseen #and thus I went insane enough to even ATTEMPT this #good god man #like Martyn didn't even actually do anything lmao but he's on my proverbial list :D #Coral Isles #Mean Gills #Team TIES

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maislovebot · 4 months

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can you do atsushi x female reader headcanons? can the reader have a music type ability btw? if not then thats cool:)

Mary is the girl that I wanna kiss

Hello anon! Yes I’d love to write this:) I wasn’t sure how to incorporate the music ability so I ended up not including it and just writing Atsushi relationship hcs, I hope that’s fine!! I’ll be doing sfw and nsfw hcs:)

Contains: afab + fem reader, established relationship, fluff n smut (separate), oral (both receiving), slight dacryphilia, fingering (reader receiving), mating press, missionary, riding, breeding, overstim, squirting, cum eating, aftercare

Sfw:

• Atsushi who was lovestruck when he first saw you! He went to the cafe with some coworker—probably Dazai. He walked in and saw a new waitress working there. He had never seen you before, but he saw you and thought you were gorgeous. You walked up to them with a small smile. You didn’t force yourself to have an overly chipper attitude, you were just friendly. He liked that. It made him feel less pressured.

• Atsushi who couldn’t even look you in the eyes as you were taking his order, which was obvious to Dazai.

• Atsushi, who leaves the cafe with a small smile on his face, only for it to be interrupted by Dazai. Dazai teased him about how flustered he obviously was.

• Atsushi who starts using any and all excuses to visit the cafe. His lunch break? He’ll eat lunch there! Doing paperwork? He’ll occupy a booth and do his work there! His crush is obvious to you, but you’ll let him continue to think you’re oblivious for his sake

• Atsushi who is ecstatic when you two finally start dating! He’s attached to you by the hip, nuzzling his face into your neck. He’ll lay there on his breaks, and the first time you two cuddle in your bed, he nuzzles his head in the crook of your neck while he lays atop you.

• Atsushi, who whenever you aren’t home until late, lays in your bed holding your pillow close because it smells like you, only for the pillow to be abandoned the second you walk through the door.

• Atsushi who kisses you when you enter the door, wrapping his arms around your waist. He’ll sway back and forth, until you inevitably have to leave. He’ll be attached to you by the hip while you get out of your uniform, changing into comfortable clothes or pajamas.

• Atsushi who spends every paycheck on you. He buys the essentials, but as soon as he’s bought what he needs be buys you something small. A snack, drink, a new shirt, etc. he loves spoiling you!

• Atsushi who loves to hold you close while you two lay in bed, talking about whatever or watching tv. He loves the comforting silence of just sitting there and staring off into space while holding you close, though. Especially when you doze off and lay atop him, not letting him leave.

• Atsushi who feels obligated to stay in place when you fall asleep on him. If he moves you’ll wake up, and that’s the last thing he wants! He wants you to get your well deserved rest.

• Atsushi who is very warm. His skin is always warm to the touch, helping you fall asleep.

• Atsushi who moves a lot when he sleeps. He kicks his blankets off the bed and rolls around constantly, so much that the blankets get kicked off of you too. Sometimes you wake up with a playful grumble and frown, pulling the blankets back on you only for it to repeat 25 minutes later

• Atsushi who wakes up in the morning to see you without a blanket on and curled in on yourself, so he lifts the blanket up and over you and tucks it in, still holding you close.

• Atsushi who melts at the soft smile on your face when you feel the warmth of the blanket and Atsushi’s body heat.

• Atsushi who patiently waits for you to wake up, kissing your forehead when you finally do.

Nsfw:

• Atsushi who loves giving head. He loves eating you out at any given opportunity. He’ll do it shortly just to prep you, or for hours, depending on what the mood strikes.

• Atsushi who loves to eat you out against the wall. You’ll place your thighs on his shoulders while you lean against the wall, and he’ll just go to town!! He’ll keep you in that position until you’re almost crying, only to pull you off and lean down on the bed and finish it up, making you actually cry. Luckily he’s pretty strong, so he can hold you up.

• Atsushi who feels bad when you cry, but he can’t deny just how hot it is. The way you tremble lightly and your chest heaves while your eyes bubble with tears makes him so hard it’s uncomfortable.

• Atsushi who also loves to receive head. He tries to be gentle, he really does, but the way your tongue teases his tip while you gently caress his thighs makes him go feral. He’ll grip your hair and pull you further down on him. He’ll have you go as far as you can, and as long, only stopping once you grip his thighs and tell him it’s too much.

• Atsushi who has pretty, long fingers. He may not have much experience, but his fingers can curl and hit all your best spots.

• Atsushi who loves to hold your hands and fuck you from missionary, or perhaps even mating press. He loves mating press.

• Atsushi who holds your hands during sex, partially to hold you down but also because he finds it intimate and romantic. He’ll hold your hands, while your thighs are wrapped around his waist, forcing him even deeper into you than before.

• Atsushi who likes mating press because of how compromising it makes you. Your thighs are pushed up to your shoulders, keeping you in place while he forces himself deeper into you. He also likes missionary, as it’s simple and he can see your face.

• Atsushi who melts when you ride him. He’ll grip your hips while you mindlessly bounce on him, followed by grinding that makes you whimper into his neck. He loves when you ride him because it’s almost like you’re taking care of him.

• Atsushi who can almost never stop after just one round. He gets so addicted to the feeling of you tightly wrapped around him that he can’t pull out. You make him so desperate. He’ll keep going at it till you’re both tired and shaking from overstimulation, and even then he often won’t stop. He’ll ignore the way his dick is red and begging for him to just give it a rest.

• Atsushi who has a breeding kink. He loves seeing his cum drip out of you, and the fact that you came just as much as him makes him proud.

• Atsushi who loves when you squirt.. the first time he got you to squirt was purely by accident, but he was so into it. The way it practically drenched his lower abdomen made him freeze in his tracks, and once he came back to his senses and you explained what had happened, he went crazy, refusing to stop until you did it again, but in his mouth this time. He wanted to taste it. Taste you.

• Atsushi who loves the aftercare just as much as the actual sex. He loves that when he was particularly good, your roles would switch, and you’d be attached to him by the hip. You’d hold him close and fall asleep with your head nuzzled in his chest, which he’d find adorable<3

Wc - 1.1k

Mary is the girl that I wanna fuck or something

#me after making everything an Alex g reference #pixie’s asks:3 #bungou stray dogs #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd #bungou stray dogs smut #bsd smut #atsushi nakajima x reader smut #nakajima atsushi #atsushi nakajima x reader #bsd atsushi #bungou stray dogs atsushi #atsushi x reader #atsushi nakajima #atushi nakajima

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butchmartyr · 2 months

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give proof of bechdel defending michfest after the publication of the script she made criticizing it

on the DTWOF blog she openly praises michfest with a friend for its anti “male socialization” policy, and this is in 2017. she’s a cis white lesbian with the set of unprincipled gender politics and anxieties over trans women that you’d expect from a michfest centrist. you could’ve just googled this, so I want you to sit for a second with the defensiveness you’re feeling and why you’re so eager to silence talk of transmisogyny

#you could scroll down a post but it’s fine. xd #like. mo is a self insert very clearly. she says this. mo is also afraid of using the bathroom with a trans woman #until the manic pixie dream tranny teaches her a lesson #asks #I don’t even hate dtwof necessarily it has some funny bits I just think it sucks nobody will ever acknowledge the transmisogyny

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temeyes · 7 months

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I feel like if he were a younger millennial and got into the idiocy of the early/mid 2000s your Soap would have been one of those kids slamming back like 15 Pixie Stix in a row and it not ending well (source: I was that kid. At least i wasn’t the band kid who snorted them)

after consuming 15 stixs straight, Soap had a breakthrough,,,

#ngl anon: i actually had to search up what Pixy Stix were. LMAO WE DON'T HAVE THOSE HERE IM SORRY #THO we had something similar called “MikMik Powder” and it's like this sweetened milk powder in small sachets-#and you had to like... eat them with small straws it came with. and EVERYTIME.. THE FIRST SUCK MAKES U CHOKE CUZ IT'S SO DRY...#and it goes straight into ur throat too. ASHAHSH #answered asks #anon #my art #2023 #call of duty #soap cod #soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish

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queenofthedisneyverse · 1 month

Text

Fall little Wendy bird fall - Chapter 1? (Please watch video first if you haven't seen it)

youtube

TW: Mentions of child death (I added Wendy's brothers in here just for extra angst)

Peter couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t even look away. He wanted to. Needed to. But the shock prevented him from doing so. Tears fell down his cheeks as he saw her lifeless body atop of the rock. The blood flowing from her skull and painting the rock a sickeningly dark red color.

“Wendy…” he wanted to scream it out but his throat…his body…he didn’t know what to do with himself. What was this feeling? What was it called? He was in so much pain but couldn’t describe it.

His first and last true love…dead. Died the most horrific and tragic death without even knowing why. Hell, he doesn’t even know why. The other lost boys were being put on land by Tink and the other Faes. confused and scared they were. What the hell just happened?!

Vidia was still holding him in the magical bubble, and she saw that hurt look in his eyes. The look of grief. The very first stage. She knows that feeling all too well. And she felt bad but…what had to be had to be done. And he’ll get over it soon enough…hopefully.

All the boys were taken back to the treehouse to rest. They were explained the situation but…with lies and the half-truth.

Tinkerbell and the others informed them that Wendy was going to take them to a horrible place. A place filled with monsters and people only wishing to harm them. Not only that, but she was going to make them forget the fairies.

“She was going to hurt you and us. We couldn’t let that happen, we had to protect you.” Tinkerbell touched the cheek of nibs and wiped his tear away.

As children do, they believed them. somewhat. There was a small feeling inside them that told them she was lying but they didn’t want to say anything.

“Come on boys. It’s been a long day, how about a bedtime story? Afterwards, you sleep” Rosetta said softly. The boys always loved bedtime stories. One of their favorite things.

The boys all cuddled in their signature sleep spot near the window. Peter was sat down next to the lost boys and let out of the bubble by Vidia. But he wasn’t mentally here right now. He was still picturing the lifeless body of his true love. The blood…that color. He for sure despised the color red now.

Tears still ran down his cheeks as he sobbed. He hasn’t stopped crying since the incident. He didn’t even hear the cover story. Not that he would’ve believed it. Wendy was a kind soul. Peter noticed that. No lie would or will tarnish his perception of her.

Tinkerbell noticed his mental absence and flew up to his face. She looked into his eyes. The once brown and hopeful ones were devoid of color. Barely a light brown. Tink knew she messed up with this one.

She never experienced true love before so she couldn’t empathize with that part, but she did love her friends. She loved those friends of hers, but they all died the more children started to lessen their belief in them.

She knew the feeling of grief very well so she could empathize with that.

“Peter…come on now. Everything will be alright. Wendy was only trying to trick you”

Don’t do it Tink!

“She didn’t love you, it wasn’t real” she tapped lightly on his nose as a small way to bring him to reality.

Yep…she just had to say it.

Peter had memories of him and Wendy having fun together. How she looked at him and made him laugh. How she made his brothers laugh and experience what having a mother was like. Even if it was small.

Her kindness. Her gentleness. There’s no way that was a trick or a lie.

“What?” he said quietly. His eyes zeroed in on her in less than a second. He stopped crying.

“She didn’t love ya pete.” Rosetta flew up next to tink. Some part of her knew this was wrong but had to try to get him to understand.

There it was again. That word, love. The way Wendy made him feel…there’s no way…

“We had to do it. There was no other choice” Vidia said with a stern tone but it was a little soft.

They had to do it?! Why?! What reason could they have to kill AND lie on an innocent girl?!

“You…killed…her” Peter said slowly, his fists balled up. The rage was seeping through. One more wrong word and he might snap.

Cubby sniffled and tugged at Peter’s short sleeve. “Tink said she was going to take us to a horrible place peter. The faes saved us”. Cubby wasn’t sure to really believe the fairies but…surely they wouldn’t hurt Wendy for no reason.

Peter snapped his head over to Cubby. The look in his eye was evident that Peter was…not okay to say the least.

“What?!” He barked

Tink knew what was about to happen. Seems like he’s going to be hard to get through to.

“Peter please! We did this for you, all of you” she flew up to his face again and looked into his eyes. Searching for any sign of him believing her. In an instant. In less than two seconds. Peter smacked her away from his face. Smacked her hard enough for her to hit the ground.

“For me?! You did this for me?! You killed her! The only person that…that..that I LOVED! She was kind to me. Not a monster!” Peter seethed as he looked down at her.

The other lost boys stood there in shock. Peter would never hurt Tink or her friends. Sure, he swatted her away when she was annoying but never a full pledged smack. Pete basically did the equivalent of smacking your aunt in the face.

The other faes were shocked too but instantly got into action. Iridessa constrained Peter back with vines. Rosetta and Vidgia helped tinkerbell off the floor with concerned expressions.

Peter squirmed and thrashed relentlessly. His rage boiling over big time the more he was tied up.

“Let me go you monsters! You killers! Let me go, you bugs!” Peter tried to get away but he couldn’t. Some of the lost boys began to cry and hug Peter to calm him down.

“Peter stop!” screamed skunk

“Peter please” said nibs

The boy of discussion wasn’t listening to them at all. His main focus was tinkerbell and the other faes. Peter has never felt this much anger in his entire life…which is a long time. The color came back to eyes but it was the same color as Wendy’s blood but with a brighter more glowing hue.

“I’ll kill you Tinkerbell if that’s the last thing I ever do!” Peter fumed as he still tried to get out of the vines that were wrapped around his arms and legs. Tinkerbell looked into his eyes. There was real truth and intent in them.

This made her angry, but she stayed composed. Vidia was about to smack Peter, but Tink flew up behind her and put her hand on her shoulder. “Vidia, Rosetta, Iridessa…take the boys further up the tree. I need to have a talk with peter”

The Faes did as she asked and took the boys out of sight. Rosetta was a little hesitant, so she added an extra layer of vines around him just in case, then she left with the others.

Tink flew up to Peter’s face…and smacked him. Not as hard as she pushed Wendy but hard enough to leave some pain. It hurt. It really did. Tink wasn’t one for physical discipline, that was Vidia and Rosetta’s job but a lesson needed to be taught.

Peter let tears fall down his cheeks. He wasn’t sure if it was because of the physical pain of the slap or the emotional pain of Wendy’s death. Either way, he was hurting.

Her face was composed but eyebrows furrowed. “Peter…you know what happened to my kind. We died off one by one. Because little brats out there stopped believing in us. You and those boys were going to leave us behind and forget…I couldn’t have that.”

Peter's eyes widened at the realization. He forgot all about tink and the others while he was on that ship, the boys did too. But still…Wendy didn’t deserve that…wait..her brothers. Where were her brothers?! They were on the ship to…oh sweet neverland.

“John…John and Michael. Where are they?!” Peter asked with fear but anger in his tone.

Did this boy not hear her? Did he just blatantly ignore what she just said?! This angered Tink further. So much so that…she wasn’t mindful of what she’ll say

“Dead! Their dead peter! All three of them! They drowned and died just like their sister!” Tink yelled at him. And she regretted it as soon as she said it. The hurt look in Peter’s eyes was all it took for her heart to sink.

“No…no. You're lying…please tell me you're lying!” Peter begged as more tears left his eyes.

Tinkerbell wanted to lie, to tell him all of it was some big joke. But how could she? He already saw Wendy die and she already yelled that her brothers were dead. Wendy’s death was already an indication that she couldn’t even lie if she wanted to.

Her silence was loud, loud enough for him to know the answer. The dam broke further and he bursted out in full uncontrollable sobs. It hurt Tinkerbell to see him like this but she had to do what she needed to do.

“I hate you” Peter breathed out as he sobbed, “I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you, you monster!”

Those words shocked Tinkerbell. Off all things that was the last thing she would ever expect him to say to her. That hurt worse than the slap he gave her. No, she couldn’t show weakness. Not at a time like this.

“You ungrateful little brat. I gave you this home! I gave you brothers and the chance to never grow up! You have every child's dream yet you dare speak to me that way?! I gave you everything” She reprimanded.

“I DIDN’T ASK TO BE HERE! You could’ve taken any other kid yet you took me! You ripped my life away once and did it again! I was going to have a life with-.” Peter felt sick as he saw the dead body of Wendy in his mind again. Not to mention her brothers bodies are at the bottom of the ocean by now “you took their life…you killed them”

How could he not see that this was not necessary?!

“ We would’ve died if you left!”

“You think we would’ve forgotten you?! We care about you as much as you do for us. How could we possibly forget you?!” Peter sobbed louder as the pain in his heart grew bigger each second.

“Why didn’t you just come with us?” his voice was small and faint, the crying was making him lose his voice.

Tinkerbell was caught off guard by that question.

“What?” she didn’t need to ask him that. She understood the question very well-

“...you could’ve left with us…”

Tink didn’t think of that. Not at all. You mean to tell her she didn’t have to kill three innocent children? No, that’s not possible.

No, all of it was for a reason. That’s final.

“You killed them” Peter repeated as his mind and heart continued to shatter into pieces.

“well…I didn’t bring them here. The only person to blame here is you” more words she regretted as soon as they slipped out of her mouth. Did she really just say that?! Take it back, take it back!

“No wait I’m-”

“My fault...MY FAULT?!” Rage settled over Peter again as tears flowed.

“No, Peter please”

“I just wanted to give them a better life YOU KILLED THEM YOU MURDERER!”

The argument went on back and forth until Peter refused to listen to anything she had to say. All words that came out of her mouth fell on deaf ears as he had one thing set on his mind.

He wasn’t even looking her in the eye. Just at the floor as tears dropped onto it. He spoke his final words “....count your days Tinkerbell”

Tinkerbell stopped trying to get through to him. That was a threat. Not an empty one either. Tink decided it was best to leave Peter alone to cool off because right now he wasn’t in the right space to talk to. And she was a little bit scared of his presence.

She flew out of the window and sat on top of a tree branch.

“He’ll come around Tink, everything will be fine and go back to how things used to be” she told herself with a smile. She actually believed that.

For the following days, weeks, and months, Peter wouldn't talk to any of the Faes. Hell, he wouldn't even speak. Not even to the lost boys.

He did a couple times, but to only tell them the fairies were lying to them. After that, Vidia banned the boys from ever going into Peter's room.

They were only allowed to visit him when it was feeding time. Peter wouldn't take food from the fairy girls, so the boys were the best way to ensure his health.

At these times one of the boys would be accompanied by a fairy to make sure Peter wouldn't tell any lies. Or put down any belief in them if he did manage to say something.

Tink was the only fairy who refused to see him. She couldn't bare seeing him in that condition. That pure hatred and intent to kill in his eyes.

It hurt all of the fairies honestly, to the very core of their being. It hurt to lie. It hurt to see the boys being unsure and skeptical around them. They never wanted none of this to happen. But it did...and they were paying for it internally everyday.

They didn't want to treat Peter as if he was some prisoner who did a heinous crime but if they let him go their lives would be at stake.

And Peter didn't know is that...he would remain in that room..,for a very long time.

To pixie hollow/Tinker bell fans I'm letting you know now that I only watched Pirate Fairy and Secret of the wings in the entire franchise. So, I don't know that much about the characters. I'm basing half of my knowledge off of the Peter Pan movie in 1953.

If you want to drop some info in my inbox, go ahead and if you have any questions drop them there too.

Likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated!

#tinkerbell #disney fairies #iridessa #vidia #Rosetta #silvermist #fawn #Youtube #pixie hollow #au #FLWBF au #my asks are open

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