#atoymakerami

[knowofdragonfire]

●

➏: massage yours

For a dwarf who constantly jests and remarks of goodwill and humor, the dwarf himself is surprisingly tense underneath the Elvenking's hands--a crackling of bone and muscle, taut and tightly coiled--and nonplussed, Thranduil merely applies more pressure upon the dwarf's shoulders, blinking amusedly at the yelp of indignation and pain that passes through dwarven lips.

--and yet such knowledge comes as no surprise--the dwarf, hunched over, hands crafting, stroking, carving into the wood with a slender knife--craftsmanship of intricate baubles and playthings to which the Elvenking finds hidden delights--the light weight of a carved figurine, expressionless and striking, and Thranduil feels his heart thrum.

He hums underneath his breath, a song of old--words long forgotten to the passing of time, and his fingers knead down, down, down the length of the dwarf's spine and back--

--and he wonders as he peers down the expanse of reddened skin, if he can create something as well.

[tithentuil]

ATOYMAKERAMI SAID: DUDE, I LITERALLY JUST USE THE WEB BROWSER MOBILE TUMBLR OVER THE ACTUAL APP.

i think i'm just going to refrain from doing any of it on my phone LOL

[tithentuil]

TENEBROUSCROWN SAID: [ U DON’T THE MOBILE APP USES U ]

ATOYMAKERAMI SAID: WITH PAIN AND TEARS.

THE-WOLF-WHO-WOULD-BE-QUEEN SAID: YOU DON’T. YOU SIT AND SCREAM AT IT UNTIL YOU GIVE UP

SHE-WHO-PLAYS-WITH-MONSTERS SAID: {{ I USE IT ALL THE TIME AND I STILL DONT EVEN KNOW }}

omg so i'm learning. that thing is awful. ; n ;

[knowofdragonfire]

§ (let's pretend he can reach or idk he stands on a stool or smth)

The Elvenking rests his head in his hands, leaning against the back of his throne, resisting the urge to roll his eyes, for, the dwarf has been attempting to sprout jokes once more.

Thranduil understands not the dwarf’s intentions nor amusements—and to his utter horror, the Elvenking finds himself intrigued.

—the dwarf has stopped rambling about riddles and puns, and then tentatively, he makes his way towards the throne—a brush of the lips, hands slight against the curves of Thranduil’s forearms, his mouth sweet and soft—and the Elvenking plunges his tongue inside the cavern and explores.

—he wonders if this is a joke as well.

[tithentuil]

atoymakerami replied to your post “*grins* Do you like having your hair pulled, Elf?”

Can't reach. *winks* Best bend over.

so cute. *pats head*

[lostmyway-twice]

"Get back in that bed, or so help me, Thorin, king or not, I will slap you silly." Bofur said sharply, setting the tray down and pushing him hard back into bed. "You are sick. You will stay in bed. Mahal help me, I will read to you, I will bring you puzzles, but you need to /rest/."

My character is very sick but refuses to stay in bed.

His back hit the bed with a small grunt of annoyance, though in an instant Thorin sat up once more, bound and determined to get out of that stuffy room for a while.  No matter how awful he felt.  "You will not.  Bofur, your concern is appreciated, but entirely unnecessary.  I am fine."

[o-smaugthestupendous]

atoymakerami replied to your post “{ Out of the Mountain --;”

awwww that's rly cute actually omfg. i've seen cornsnakes eat the baby mice and they wORK SO HARD TO DO IT

[Ohhh, my gosh, I know. But I only have a kingsnake that is small enough to be as cute as a corn, haha!]

[tithentuil]

atoymakerami said: "Good evening." Bofur said quietly, and he bowed his head. "Bofur of the Blue Mountains, sir, readily at your service." He held up a box - in silver cloth as opposed to the green from before. "Bearing gifts from the King under the Mountain."

✗—— 

                 the dwarf is a curious thing -- quieter than the had expected. not that he's going to complain about that. it's just unusual -- subdued isn't a word he would typically apply to anything dwarven, especially the beings themselves. he tilts his head, a minute gesture that isn't enough to even move his hair. careful hands reach out slowly, lightly grasping the proffered gift.  with one hand on the bottom of the box, the other hand smooths along the thin silver wrapping cloth.

                                                                            ———— ”You are a fine craftsmen, Bofur” he says after a moment, pulling the box close to him. "And I must extend gratitude for my last . . . gift. Though --" he thins his lips a bit, drawing a breath through his nose as he flicks his gaze to the dwarf's, "I must inquire -- why did you choose that particular subject matter for the last?"