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j-eryewrites · 11 months ago

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All of You

MAIN MASTER LIST

ANON Request: Okay I can't have enough Sherlock angst so maybe just some feels or kidnapping or something like that. Thanks for your great work <3🙇🏼‍♀️

ANON REQUEST 2: I love your fics 💕💕 if requests are open, could you do one with BBC Sherlock in which the reader is kidnapped? (but they both have not confessed their love for each other yet, and the kidnapping perhaps prompts Sherlock to confess. idk up to you!) i just l o v e your Sherlock one shots!!

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: Haunted house, drugging, weapons, canon typical violence, kind of OOC Sherlock, cursing (Let me know if I have missed anything)

Author's Note: So, I got two requests A WHILE AGO and they were so similar I just decided to combine the two of them. (Requests are still not open, I’m just getting to the ones I never got around to writing to.) As for requests, I will be opening them back up once Arbitrary Lives and A Sinner's Redemption have concluded, so start thinking of some request ideas!!

The irony of the situation did not evade you. Sherlock’s latest case involved a serial killer. A serial killer who they were looking for at an abandoned haunted house attraction. The home wasn’t actually haunted, it was just a place years ago that would host a scary Halloween amusement park. However, that information did little to ease your nerves. What made things worse was that Sherlock suggested to split up. You, John, and he would all go separate ways to search for the killer.

Immediately, you had declined. You've seen too many horror movies with John to know that splitting up was the worst thing you could do. Not to mention the experiences you’ve had working with the consulting detective for years. Never split up, that’s what you told yourself, yet here you were, by yourself, walking down the dimly lit halls of the gigantic house. Your mind ran a-wire with the thought of how many hidden rooms and passageways that could be kept in the walls. That image alone terrified you.

With each step you took the house creaked and groaned. If that wasn’t a big neon sign blaring to the killer that you were there, you didn’t know what it was. You couldn’t but wince as the whole house squeaked with your latest step and at that point, you weren’t sure why you were trying to be quiet.

Muttering curses under your breath you lowered your torch and turned around. You wanted to find Sherlock or John. Their presence made you feel safer and all you wanted to be right now was safe. Your body shivered as a chill crept up your legs to the back of your neck. The waves of nerves tickled the minuscule hairs on your body and if this was a horror movie eerie music would be playing.

“Why did the killer have to be in a haunted house,” you whined as you approached the stairs to the bottom floor of the home where you last saw your tall consulting detective.

Looking down the wooden steps you searched for the bright light of Sherlock’s torch. There was no light to be found. You sighed and pulled out your phone trying to be smart about this. The bright screen of your phone illuminated your view darkening everything behind and in front of you. Your fingers danced across the screen as you pulled up Sherlock’s contact. You pressed a button. The screen flashed with Sherlock’s name and your phone buzzed. But before you could speak or before Sherlock could answer, everything went black.

There was something so insightful about being knocked out: the darkness of everything, the pain you felt in the back of your head like a soundtrack, and the erasure of all feelings. It was almost impossible to feel terrified about the haunted house when you weren’t even conscious in the first place. It was oddly peaceful and quiet, something you haven’t known in a long time since working for Sherlock. You weren’t sure how you became unconscious in the first place. As you lay in the darkness, there was one thought floating around in your mind. Shit.

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“You’re finally awake,” a hoarse voice cooed.

A harsh light crept into your view causing you to wince. You longed for the darkness that you were encased in moments before. Soon your eyes adjusted to the bright light and began to take in your surroundings.

First things first, you were strapped down to a table. The straps were extremely tight leaving you with barely any room to breathe. You gulped and began to twist underneath the straps. If you could move in the first place.

The voice tsked before laughing. “It’ll be a while before you can move. The paralytic works fast.” Your eyes widened and you began to whimper. “Don’t worry, you can still scream.”

That when you saw them, your captor and the killer. Dauning a medical mask and surgical wear they leaned in close and sniffed you. You closed your eyes at the proximity, wishing that they wouldn't be real if you couldn’t see them. “I can smell the fear coming off of you. It’s intoxicating,” your captor chuckled.

“No…” you whimpered. Your voice was barely audible.

The killer pulled back away from you. “No?”

In your mind, you could go two ways. The first option, go with the idea that your “no” was terrified and try and plead with the killer. It was dignified and kind of cowardly but it was what you wanted to go with. Second, you could play it off cool. Well, as cool as you could while being strapped to a table with the killer’s face hovering over you. You could fight back. Taunt him and maybe provide Sherlock and John with enough time to try and find you. God, you hoped that they’d find you and that your brilliant consulting detective could solve the case. Now that you thought about it the second option seemed more plausible.

“No, he’s going to find me. He’ll beat you. That’s what he does,” you muttered. Your voice still trembled as you delivered this line, but your eyes conveyed your determination and belief in what you said.

All enjoyment from the killer’s face vanished and a darker expression replaced it. The look they were giving you would have paralyzed you if you weren’t already drugged. Their breath was scalding hot as they breathed into your ear. “He’ll never figure it out.”

You scoffed. “You’re wrong.”

“Am I? He hasn’t even figured out that you’re gone.” They pulled down their medical mask to flash you a wicked grin. “This house has so many rooms. Twist and turns. You’ll be dead before he finds this room.

You paled. All hope of playing it cool dissipated. You were terrified: Breath evaded you, your heart beat faster than it ever had before, your blood ran cold, and tiny beads of sweat encased your body.

“I’m right. You can even see him here,” the killer pulls up video footage of the house. In the middle of all the split screens, you can see Sherlock and John searching. A tight pain in your chest formed at the sight. “You know that your dear detective is too enamored with the case to remember that others exist. It’s a game and he wants to win, even if it means some of his teammates get left behind.” You can’t help the tears that pool in your eyes causing them to laugh. “It’ll be too late when he realizes it and the closest thing he’ll have to you again are the organs that will be in the bodies of others. You’ll be de–”

“Wrong.”

You sobbed upon hearing that voice. It was Sherlock. He was here. He had come. The killer whirled around to find Sherlock standing with a gun in his hand aimed at them.

“How…” the killer said.

“Should’ve checked your cameras, then you would have realized they were on a loop,” the comforting voice of John spoke.

The killer’s jaw clenched.

“John,” Sherlock said. “ Get Y/N.”

John snuck out behind Sherlock and carefully moved over to you. His eyes scanned over your distressed figure as his hands began to fiddle with the straps.

“It’s alright, Y/N,’ John whispered as he untied the woman.

“I can’t,” you shook your head. “...I can’t move.”

John’s eyes filled with worry as the killer chuckled. “She’s paralyzed. I wouldn’t move her if I were you.” The killer turned around to look back down at you.

“If you move one more centimeter there will be a bullet lodged in your head,” Sherlock growled.

“You wouldn’t,” the killer hissed.

“On the contrary. I like to win my games, even if it means that the rules are bent.” Sherlock’s eyes were glaring at the killer.

Suddenly a muffled voice came from above. It was Lestrade. “Sherlock?”

“Down here, Gary!”

Time seemed to move superficially fast as the police entered the basement. However, time stilled the moment Sherlock retrieved you. John tried his best to pick you up but with the combination of his size and your apparent unmoving state, he found himself useless. Instead, Sherlock stepped up. With limp limbs and a stiff body, Sherlock lifted you off the cold and hard metal table. His gentle hand cradled your head as your body curled into him. He carried you as if you were the most precious and fragile things in the world. His secure and stable arms wrapped around you, pulling you immensely too close to his body, but you did not mind. He was warm and you were cold. He was safe and you were scared. Sherlock was exactly what you needed, and he was there. He was always there for you.

Soon the blaring lights of the police cars filled your vision, concealing the ambulance waiting for you. You hated you couldn’t cling to Sherlock as he passed you over to the EMTs. They scanned your body checking for injuries and asking you questions while they did so. With each response and your insistence on your perfectly fine well-being, the EMTs grew more and more concerned. They wanted to take you to the hospital, but that was the last place you wanted to be: being strapped down to a table, with an IV in your arm, the medical masks, and scrubs. It was all too much too soon. The fear in your eyes was apparent at their conclusion, but before you could open your mouth to display your concerns, Sherlock spoke.

“She’ll be coming home with me.”

“But sir, she’s still drugged and paral–,” the EMT began.

“If you just used your eyes, you would see that the hospital is the last place she wants to be,” Sherlock interjected.

The EMT briefly gazed over at you before recognizing the truth in Sherlock’s words.

“She still needs to be checked on after th–”

“I’m a doctor, I can make sure everything is alright,” John chimed in.

You looked at John and gave him a grateful smile. “Thank you,” your hoarse voice whispered.

John smiled back. The EMT looked between the three of you and sighed placing her hands on her hips. “Alright, I’ll sign off on the paperwork and she’s free to go.”

The moment the paperwork was signed, you were whisked back to Baker Street. Sherlock never left your side as he carried you into his and John’s shared flat and placed you down on their sofa. Mrs.Hudson had brought up tea and snacks in an attempt to get something into your stomach. However, the idea of shifting your body to raise your arms and extend your hand to retrieve the cup of tea and biscuits seemed too big of an ordeal. You were exhausted. Instead, you found the weight of your head too much to bear and collapsed onto Sherlock’s shoulder. With one look, John and Mrs. Hudson ushered themselves out of the flat.

Your body was still trembling as the mental scars still flashed vividly in your mind.

“You’re safe,” Sherlock hummed in a soothing voice. His gentle arms came up to wrap around your torse encouraging a wave of stillness to course through your body. You weren’t sure of what to say. So many ifs running through your head, so you settled for a thank you.

Sherlock responded by pulling you closer. “I’ll always find you.”

A watery smile appeared on your face. It was a smile that you forced as tears crept into the corner of your eyes. “Well, if you hadn’t made it in time, I would have given you my skull. That way you’d always have me on your mantel.” You tried to laugh. It was a poor attempt at a joke and you weren’t really sure why you were making it. You just did.

Sherlock pulled back just enough to look into your eyes. You tried to look away, but his firm hand cupped your chin directing your gaze at him. “No. I don’t want your skull. I want you alive and safe. Anything less and I’ll never be satisfied.”

His eyes seemed to glow as you stared into them. The gorgeous blue lulled you in like a siren at sea. You couldn’t turn away as he brought your face closer to wipe away the tears that had fallen from your face.

“Okay,” you said in a hushed tone.

Sherlock seemed content with that answer and pulled you in to brush his lips against your forehead. He wanted to do more but now wasn’t the time. He wanted to whisper his heart and soul’s greatest secret into your ears and breathe it into your skin. He wanted you, all of you, but for now, holding you close, your heart thumping against each other, and the peaceful melody of your breath against his neck was all he needed.

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Comment below if you would like to be added to the Sherlock One shot tag list! Feel free to reblog or comment, I love hearing from readers.

Tag list:

@bartokthealbinobat

@astudyinlaura

@sherlockstrangewolf

@yourleastfavoriteguyinthechair

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whispers-of-lilith · 1 year ago

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*Buggy sucking the absolute souls out of both Crocodile & Mihawk*

Mihawk: "Hm.. I never expected the clown to be so good at this."

Crocodile: *grunts in response*

Buggy: "Ah yes well, I guess you could say I'm quite the cock connoisseur - a cocknoisseur if you will."

Croco & Mihawk: *in unison* "...get out."

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victoria--ft-9801 · 7 months ago

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TBB S3 EP12 Spoilers

The emotional strength Hunter is exhibiting is amazing. Like, does anyone remember when Crosshair told Hunter-

"You're angry because she escaped with my help, not yours."

"I risked everything to send you that message. You let Omega be taken to Tantiss."

"She went through what she did because you failed."

And we all get to episode 12, and Hunter is understanding about it. He doesn't even blame Crosshair for not telling them about Rampart or missing the shot or anything!Trust me, when someone hurts you, it's so hard not to throw their words back in their face. Hunter had every reason to. After what Crosshair told him during that argument, and with Omega being captured, he had more than enough reasons to lash out at Crosshair.

But he didn't.

Maybe he will in the future, I don't know, but right now, Hunter has my respect.

#the bad batch crosshair #bad batch #crosshair #hunter has my respect #TBB #tbb #the bad batch #The Bad Batch #I suck at tagging #spoilers for TBB

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cakepoppresent · 2 months ago

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Random shots of Sam and Jin while I set their story up. Love them a lot

#sam is gonna have to start her music career at some point.#no more making music and keeping it to herself!!#reeves family extras #i suck at tagging #cakepop rants

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thetherianfae · 4 months ago

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All the LGBTQ+ exclusive books on my shelf. Not a lot, I know, but I plan on adding this book called Aces Wild to the collection very soon.

#gacha cc #asexual #anti zoophile #i suck at tagging #lgbtq

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simpscripts · 2 years ago

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A Spoonful of Love (Bernard the elf x Reader) Part 1

Authors notes/tags: Part 2 of the Naughty or Nice series for service subs with praise kinks. Smut starting on part 2, 18+, Nsfw, afab reader, she/her pronouns used. I hope you all enjoy!

Summary: Your crush and superior elf has been pulling away for months, fueling your need to please and serve him to hear him praise you again.

The click of your nails against the the large work counter echoed out in the empty kitchen. The usually packed and bustling kitchen now remained nearly empty with just a single occupant after the busyness of the holiday season finally wrapped up for the year. Over the new years holiday, Santa give a vacation period to everyone to celebrate all the hard work of the year before everyone picks right back up to create it all again, but you never took the vacation time.

You had no other place that felt quite like home as the kitchen did and this free space without work tasks or distraction from other elves gave you free reign to try making new confectionary creations. As the head elf of the kitchen you reveled in the honor of being in charge of looking for ways to elevate the treats and teach the rest of the staff of baker elves how to recreate them. This vacation was the perfect time to workshop, try out new ideas, play around with ingredients, and take notes on how each experiment resulted. You got a chance to try new things out during normal working time in between specific tasks but this is the month that will set the ground for the rest of the year. More importantly every time you created something up to your standards you get to share it with your favorite head elf for his final approval. Bernard has held a large grip on your heart for centuries and you leaped for every chance to show off your creations to him to have a chance of basking under his praise.

Your eyes peeled away from glaring daggers at the little timer as you waited for it to ring out, instead shifting to peer around the room to check if anyone was crazy enough as you to come into work during the vacation period. As your eyes scanned around your surroundings they pass over the grand kitchen doors peeled open to look out over the workshop area. Your breath hitches in excitement as you catch a flash of red clothes and dark curls whizz around in the background of workbenches. A laugh bubbles lightly out of your throat as you noticed he has dragged poor Curtis into work with him as well.

Your eyes follow their path around the workroom, watching them stop shortly every so often to adjust the equipment on work stations, jot little notes in his small work journal, or clearing bits of scrap parts into bins. Your head sinks down to rest against your palm as your body slumps in your high chair against the counter, mind slipping away to dream. This sighting of him in the same room for so long is a bit of a rare sighting as of late, you have only really seen him in a room for a minute or so this past few months and you can’t blame him due to the nature of the season.

Your teeth move to chew at the corners of your lips as your thoughts turned more anxious, searching every memory for clues to throw on the fire of your fear. It wasn’t just the past month and normal holiday season, it started a few months before Christmas even came around. Your thoughts can’t stop bubbling at the thought that maybe its you. You have never seen him in a room as of late longer than a few minutes, you swear you remember or at the very least that your mind provides vivid memories of him making eye contact with you in the room and making his way out shortly after.

Your fingers fidget together as you get lost in your mind. The only thing saving you from your descent down was the slight bit of vocal echos that bounce their way up to the kitchen and to your pointed ears. Your body shifts on its own raising forward at an angle towards the door as if that will help you hear any better. You can’t make out the words but you hear Curtis’s tone playfully mocking Bernard. Your eyes follow them as they make their way to the benches located just under the balcony nearest to the kitchen.

You glance quickly at the timer, it’s a bit older and gets stuck on the track right before going off some of the time. You’ve been meaning to replace it but honestly it got pushed back in favor of you trying to seek out Bernard whenever you could to offer your help and service during those blissfully boring moments of waiting for things to finish baking. Your curiosity quickly outweighs your concern and your body moves on its own to tip toe out of the kitchen to hear better, your mind giving you a quick pat on the back for not wearing any bells on your clothes today.

Once out you manage to sneak along the wall to sit back into an alcove that would hopefully protect you from being seen if they move back out to the center of the room. Now you can hear a bit more but just broken words in between mumbles so you make yourself comfortable and wait. Your fingers twirl around the hem of your skirt, a bit of guilt gurgles in you from sneaking but you miss the sound of his voice. Even hearing the echoes of his tone calms your heart and eases your anxiety. You catch some laughs coming from Curtis as he seems to tease Bernard again and your ears prick up as you hear them getting louder. Then you hear Curtis making loud chicken noises.

“Would you stop being a big fat chicken?” Curtis chortles before continuing his bawks.

“Knock it off Curtis!” This is the first time you can clearly make out Bernards words as he yells out exasperatedly and you itch closer to the balcony’s edge to hear better. “I don’t get scared, I just want everything to be perfect, as I expect with everything else around here. Now get back to work.”

Their voices hush back down to murmurs as they change the subject. Your stomach churns at the word perfect, something you strived for constantly especially with helping him knowing how much he values good work. You can’t figure out the exact context for their conversation but knowing he is looking for perfection makes you slightly giddy, hoping he will be pleased with your new baking creation you’ve created just for him. You hover to make sure you can’t hear anymore of their conversation before pulling away to go check on the oven. As your body tip toes back into the kitchen to not alert your foot steps to the elves just below you it all quickly gets abandoned as you smell the harsh scent of smoke pouring from the oven.

“No, no, no, no, no, no!” You scream out unconsciously as you ran over.

You’re ungraceful as you snatch the safety fire extinguisher from the wall and slam open the heavy oven door to spray down the flames with white fluff before they can burst out towards you. As the white foam pops from the remaining heat it sinks and pools enough that you can clearly see that the lava cakes you were making overcooked, the cake sponge hardened until cracking open, letting the sticky liquid filling bubble out and over the tray side to burn on the bottom of the oven. Your heart races as you turn to glare at the timer, seeing it’s once again stuck on the second to last tick unable to notify you before you ended up burning the whole place down. In the background you make out two bodies rapidly moving up the staircase towards you and you panic.

You hopelessly and awkwardly try positioning your body to cover the sight of the oven from their eyes. Bernard skips into the room first with his long strides he takes when he is serious, Curtis rushing behind him with little steps that desperately try to keep up. Your heart beat quickens as you watch Bernard come closer to your side, his eyes trained on the oven as he deduces for himself what occurred, while his hand absentmindedly reaches out to graze past your arm to keep you back.

“What happened, are you alright?” He shifts to face you and dips his head down to look you in the eyes. You’re a bit too star struck watching his eyes, and seeing from your peripheral that his hands hover above your arms but not quite touching the skin.

“Mmhm just a small accident.” You cough as you hear how hard the words felt to choke out and turn away from his gaze to motion towards the timer. “Timer is broken I just forgot to replace it and I got a bit distracted. I’m sorry, I’ll clean this up.”

“No need to apologize, just an accident.” He shakes his head smiles at you warmly, letting his hands now rest against your wrists. “I’ll take care of the timer for you, I’ll go get it fixed up after I finish the rest of my tasks for the day.”

“Hey! When I make a mistake I have to do reindeer walking duty for a month, and she almost burned this whole place down.” Curtis muffles out in between small bites of truffles he snuck from the dessert tray on the counter.

“Curtis you don’t even do the jobs you’re supposed to, let alone pick up a bunch of tasks to help me out like Y/N does. She follows orders perfectly.” Bernard clicks out while letting his hands fall from your skin so he can turn to inspect the damage while you stand back shifting in delight from the praise.

“That’s not true and you know it! In the past six months alone I have swept up all the tinsel in the workshop, I shoveled the steps, I cleaned the entire stables top to bottom, gave Dasher the bath he desperately needed, and even drug up half of the stupid library books up to your office!” Curtis continues through mouthfuls of chocolate.

You try to make out their interaction as Bernard snaps his head back briefly to glare at Curtis, quickly shutting him up. He goes back to looking over the oven, bending down to make sure the flames didn’t do any damage. You squirm a bit in your spot as he scrutinized your mistake but snapped back to the present as he spoke to you again.

“I didn’t know you were back in here today Y/N.” He hums while leaning his head around to check different angles.

“Oh yea, you know me. I like having the kitchen to myself and I don’t feel content unless I am getting stuff done.” You see his hand reach for the cleaning rag you keep tied to the door handle, presumably to start wiping it up and you wave your hands hurriedly. “Don’t worry about cleaning, I’ll take care of it while the new batch bakes in another oven.”

This seems to satisfy him as he stands up and glances to Curtis with a smile. “See Curtis, that is why she is my favorite.”

Curtis just rolls his eyes in response while Bernard moves to grab the timer to examine it next. You’re a bit amused at how gentle he is with it seeing as every muscle in your body just wants to smash the timer to bits with how much trouble it has caused you.

“This should be an easy fix.” Bernard slides the timer over to Curtis to hold in his hand not occupied by sweets and turns to you. “Well I’ll still be here for a bit doing chores but then I will work on it once I get back to my office. If you’re still here later you can drop by to pick it up.”

“Of course, and I’ll also bring by the new treat I came up with as long as it doesn’t burn again. I think you’ll like it, I had you in mind when I came up with it.” You’re eyes freeze for a moment as you realized you just babbled and hoped he didn’t understand the deeper need behind your words.

Flicking your gaze up you see a smile close to the one you see on his face when he praises you for a good job but it looks to be mixed with another emotion, maybe smugness. It’s too hard to tell and you fail to get a good look in the second before he looks away to gesture Curtis back towards the workroom.

“Sounds great, I am looking forward to seeing what your brilliant mind comes up with next. Now it looks like the oven is ok, but are you sure you’ll be alright to clean it up by yourself?” He gestures over to the pile of goo in the oven.

“Absolutely, not a problem at all! I don’t want to add anything else to your busy plate and besides I will have plenty of time while I remake this batch. I’ll bring it to you right out of the oven tonight when you’re not busy anymore so you can have it when it’s warm and perfect.”

“That’s why you’re the best, I know I can always rely on you.”

You happily take in all the details of the moment, committing everything to memory to store away with every other accomplishment you have made for him. As your eyes travel away from his eyes you catch a few flecks of something light hiding in his curls. Now you can see more clearly there is a bunch of different wood shavings clinging on to his hair that you try pointing him towards the biggest piece you can see.

“Oh Bernard, I think you have something in your hair.” His eyes scrunch in confusion as he threads his fingers through some strands and pulls out the bits of wood. “Just a bit more, here let me help.”

You move to thread your fingers through his hair to pull them out but he awkwardly laughs and pulls back. “That’s alright, probably just a bit of wood chips from the workshop.” He starts backing away more to leave and lets out a small oof as he backs straight into the edge of the counter.

“Ooh, are you ok?” You wince watching him grab his side, and your chest stings as you watch him pull away.

“Yep I’m good, I’ll see you later.” He pushes out before biting on his lip and turning.

You offer him a small smile with flushing cheeks as you watch him start backing out of the room with a wave that you return to him. He meets Curtis at the door and you watch them curiously when you see the younger elf elbows his senior before getting snatched by the back of his collar and pulled down the stairs. The breath you held exhaled once you lost vision of them, and you dumbly looked at the mess while organizing your thoughts and emotions. The strong bitter sting of failure crawls through you sickly first, mixed with the happiness and confusion of having him near you longer than the last few months combined.

Once your perfectionist feelings of failure leak out slowly your left with longing that consumes you. It wasn’t until you had another taste of the close friendship you once had that your heart starts to deeply ache to have again. Your lungs draw in a big breath to stabilize the tide before you moved forward to clean up. It may be a silly thought but you drive yourself forward with the hope that you can complete this next batch and worm your way back into his life.

Time passes while you clean silently, consumed by your thoughts, and the light shifts to an orange glow as the sunset starts to beam in through the windows. By the time you make it to starting the new batch the loss and ache now gives way to frustration, a need to fix this. You’re a bit aggressive when throwing in the new ingredients, despite you trying to growl out in your head of all the love your going to pour into these lava cakes. You have to whip your head to the side to avoid being suffocated by the plume of flour that puffs out of the bowl when you throw it in and your clothes are quickly becoming collateral damage to the spray of ingredients as you viciously mix.

You freeze your hand from stirring when you hear light foot falls head in your direction. Your chest rises with hope that Bernard is checking in on you but instead you see a tired looking Curtis turn around the corner. You try to mask your disappointment with a roll of your eyes.

“Coming to rob me some more of the treats I worked hard to bake?” You flick your eyes to him before going back to your rough mixing.

“I deserve these, I was being bossed around all day. You try dealing with him and see how you like it.” He huffs out while grabbing a seat across from you at the counter and happily biting into the truffles with an exaggerated moan. “What the heck do you put into these things that make them taste so good”

“Just a spoonful of love.” You growl out your signature line as you finish up your beating of the mixture.

“Seems like a violent love.” He mutters back under his breath.

“Alright, alright! Take your truffles and get out my kitchen so I can concentrate.” You shoo him off, even giving him the tray to take with him when he hesitates to leave.

You were friends with Curtis and enjoy his company but it’s hard not being a bit jealous of him getting to spend all day with Bernard when he so openly complains about something you would so happily trade him for. The ache and bitterness consumed you as your mind snowballed harder into your pain. You haven’t even stepped a single foot inside his office for months, the once upon a time open door invitation was now firmly locked every time you have tried to visit. You used to have a small ritual of making a tray of food for him, knowing he forgot to eat with how busy he was, and brought it to his office to set on his desk for him and offering your assistance if he was there. After it started being locked you tried leaving a few trays outside his door but with no guarantee he was even in there you had to stop to not waste food.

It’s just now starting to sink in truly just how high of stakes this cooking assignment was for you. You wanted nothing more than to prove yourself to him, make yourself useful, and earn his praise. For too long you have been robbed of that opportunity that your mind was going crazy without purpose but he had to sign off on new recipes you implemented. This was a chance to get answers on why he has been avoiding you and hopefully earn his praise you’ve sorely missed.

Once the new tray goes in you glance down at the state of your clothes, splattered with flour and wet chocolate dots that didn’t easily wipe away. Just as you were about to walk away to quickly change or at the least clean up in the bathroom you remembered your lack of timer. Instead you let out a sigh of defeat, letting go of the notion that you would be able to sneak away to clean up so you can watch the lava cakes instead. You’re cursing yourself in your head for not picking something less finicky that could be babysat less so you could clean up. You also stupidly promised Bernard fresh out of the oven lava cakes and with the chill of the North Pole you would be surprised how quickly it could cool down just on the way to his office. Not everything could be perfect though as you have bitterly come to realize throughout your centuries and so you would have to just deal with a disheveled appearance.

The sun fully set over the snowy hills in the distance of the village by the time the tray was ready to take out. You were growing more anxious the darker it got that he would have already left for the night that you had to stop yourself several times from removing the tray too early. As quick as you could without dropping or making a mess you plated up the small lava cake, sprinkled some powder sugar, and cleaned the rim of the plate to finish it off. With a small pat along your clothes to brush off any flour you could you picked up the plate and headed off to his office.

Your fingers gripped the plate to make sure you didn’t accidentally drop it now that you’re so close to delivering it. Once at his door you take in a shaking breath, just being outside filling you with unfamiliar nerves for a place you felt so at home in. With a trembling hand you reach up to knock on the door and wait with baited breath to hear if anyone would answer. You calm slightly as you make out some sweeping sounds and a clatter of things being shuffled quickly once your knock rang out before footsteps hurried their way over.

The door quickly swishes open, wafting a curl of the warm air from inside and you couldn’t keep yourself from inhaling the familiar cinnamon wood scent that surrounds him. Your eyes flick over to see the room behind Bernard that you haven’t laid eyes on in forever taking in the disheveled state of the room. You look back at him and go breathless as you take in his own disheveled form in informal clothing.

“Hi sorry, I know it’s late but I finally finished it.” You stutter out once you shake through the nerves.

“I’m glad you’re here,” He steps to the side to let you in. “Come on in, don’t mind the mess, I haven’t had much time to clean up.”

As your feet pad across the floor you can feel the soft grain of sawdust add traction to your steps. Peering around curiously you see a thin layer of dust on most of the surfaces of the room, along with clumps of thicker wood shavings scattered around the edges of the furniture. You’ll have to remember for later to sweep up in here for him if you get the chance. You try following back into your normal routine of sitting down in the plush chair in front of his desk, pushing through the awkwardness that suffocates you as you fixate on positioning the plate on his spot just right while he comes around to sit across from you.

“Alright moment of truth.” You spin the spoon around for him to grab onto. “Bernard I present to you the creamy hot cocoa lava cake complete with little marshmallows inside, I hope you like it.”

He gives you an excited glance before happily digging in to the cake. You watch with anticipation as he breaks through the cake layer and exhale in relief when you see a nice slow flow of creamy chocolate dotted with tiny marshmallows starts oozing out. He hums in appreciation at the visual and lifts his spoon for his first bite and you can’t help but feel yourself dipped into the familiarity of the scene. With the first moan of appreciation your face lights up and your skin prickles with bumps at the sudden warmth spreading through you in pride.

“Absolutely perfect.” He hums out before going back for bigger spoonfuls. “I don’t know how you manage to blow me away every time.”

Your heart is banging to beat of your chest with pride and you’re overtaken with just how much you missed the sharp burning of your cheeks that threatened to sting your eyes.

“It’s nothing more than a spoonful of love, you know that.” You happily chirp out your signature phrase he’s heard time and time again.

You watch him closely as he stares down at the lava cake with a soft smile that twitches when you spoke those familiar words. With only a few bites left he finishes it off and takes the small napkin you provided to wipe any remaining chocolate that lined his lips.

“This might be my favorite one yet, I can’t wait to see what the big man thinks about it when he gets back from vacation.”

“Yea if he decides to come back to this mad house.” You joke softly, trying to ignore the crawl of awkwardness creeping back in when you realize you don’t know how to move forward now. “Sorry again about earlier it was a silly mistake.”

“It’s alright just a small accident and this more than makes up for it.” He says softly with a wave of his hand before leaning down to grab something. “And I have small something in return for you to thank you.”

“Oh, right, the timer I completely forgot.” Your jaw clenched slightly as you feared this meant the end to your night with him.

“Oh,” He raises slowly and looks lost in thought like he forgot something. “No.”

“No?”

“I mean yes but no, um.” He reaches back into a drawer and slowly pulls out the timer to place in front of you. “I actually got you another gift, it was actually supposed to be done by Christmas but I had to restart, a few times actually.”

You watch him closely as he fidgets with the object located in his lap slightly before raising it up so you can see the medium rectangle package neatly wrapped in beautiful paper. “Anyways, I wanted to get you this to show you how much I appreciate everything you do around here, and not just for the job but for me also personally.”

He laughs a bit nervously and starts handing over the gift gently to your hands. “I can rely on you more than anyone, and this is a little something to show you how much I care.”

You play with the ribbons tied around the box slightly as you see him move to sit in the chair beside your own, and angle it towards you as he watches for your reaction now. You untie the ribbon and start lightly pulling at the paper to tear it off the box, jumping slightly when you feel his hand brush past your own as he goes to take the ball of paper from you once you slide the box out. The air feels heavy as you grasp the box and go to remove the lid while feeling the stare of his eyes focused on your face.

The first item in the box was a small envelope with Bernard very own wax seal stamp in beautiful red wax and detailed with gold gilding along the raised edges of the intricate B. You wanted this moment to drag on forever as you took in every detail he put into this present with just the card. Before you could start to swipe your nail under the crease to open it he reached over and grabbed the card out of your hand.

“You should save this for last.” He whispered out, gaze still trained carefully on you and you fully take in his tense pose leaned forward with elbows resting on his knees to wring his hands together.

“Then it shouldn’t have been on top.” You roll your eyes but follow his direction and continue unwrapping the present.

You moved the layer of tissue paper that the card laid on top of and froze once you unsealed the object underneath. Cradled in a blanket of velvet was an intricate carved wooden spoon. The spoon itself was a heart shape, above that was a hilt of mistletoe that curled up on the left and right to mirror itself. The very top of the spoon was a big bow with tendrils that twirled down on both sides to meet down at the hilt and cradled between the tendrils as the true handle of the spoon was a large Christmas tree.

As softly as you could with shaking hands you pick it up with your finger tips cradling the back as you run your thumbs over the smooth grooves and indentations of details carved into its design. Looking closer at the Christmas tree you see little bobbles of ornaments carved in the shape of hearts. Your heart clenches as you take it all in and you flex your fingers to get a better grip on the precious gift alerting you to the line like grooves you can feel on the back. Flipping it over the stinging tears building up along your eyeline flows over your cheeks as you read the beautiful cursive words sprawled across the back of the tree ‘a spoonful of love’.

Your eyes burn as you squint to blink away the tears and look over to him confused but filled with hopeless adoration. He doesn’t give your look an answer, instead he tensely moves to hand the letter back over to you once you gently place the spoon back into the box. Your less gentle now that you’re seeking answers as you break open the seal and pull out the handwritten card.

Lovespoon: A Welsh lovespoon is a wooden spoon decoratively carved that was traditionally presented as a gift of romantic intent.

I figured you needed a spoon as beautiful as you to add all the love you include in your baking.

-With all my love, Bernard

Your fingers clenched the card tightly as you read and reread the words over and over. When you finally managed to tear your eyes away you looked over at Bernard with blurry vision. Every word in the history of language was lost on you as you stared back at his gaze and your mouth gaped open in longing to say something in response. You watched as all the energy inside building inside him pushed out through shaking clenched hands as the rest of his body sat tense and he spoke out to break the silence.

“I wanted to find the perfect gift and had Curtis bring me every volume of the history of gifts around the world from the archive library. There was about 53 volumes in total, I um, got to this one but still read through the them all. This was the only one I thought fit you perfectly.” His voice babbled out more nervously than you have ever heard him before in a deep voice laced with a gruff edge.

Your gaze tore away from the heat of his as you once again locked eyes with some wood shavings across his desk. All the pieces of the puzzle locked in as a happy sob bubbled out of your throat.

“I thought you were ignoring me.” Your eyes dart back and forth as the anxiety fled completely from your body.

“No, Yes, I was but not for that reason.” His hand hesitantly reaches out to lace with your own and you tighten your hold on him once he makes contact. “Curtis was always with me and I didn’t want his loud mouth spoiling the surprise.”

He cautiously watches you for another moment and nervously whispers out, “Do you like it?”

You suck your bottom lip in a happy pout as more tears bubble out and you nod, leaning your body over to be closer to his.

“I will make you as many pastries and treats that you could ever want.” Your mind is already flooding with all the ways you want to show your devotion and affection to him, most likely starting with cleaning his office for him.

“No, no.” He shifts to cradle your cheek to move your gaze back to his adoring eyes as the air in the room shifts and warms you. “I think it’s well pass the time for you to be rewarded for all the hard work you do.”

#x reader #bernard the elf x reader #bernard x reader #bernard the elf #fanfiction #fanfiction writer #santa claus #fanfictions #reader insert #I suck at tagging #I hope you enjoy #this is super self indulgent #and super fluffy #idk man the smut will be kinkier #I need two shots of fluff for each smut

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polaesims · 1 year ago

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Hi! So I'm setting up simblr in 2023! I've been meaning to start sharing my gameplay and more for a while now, but somehow I could never get around to it. I've recently started getting into doing conversions from 4 to 3, so I figured why not now. Anyway my name is Pola, I've been playing TS3 exclusively for about 13 years now. I will be posting conversions, gameplay, makeovers, my sims and so on and so forth. Enjoy!

Here is my simself for a good start! I also want to thank @sim-songs for these beautiful conversions and for inspiring me to get started myself!

#simblr #ts3 #ts3 simblr #simself #ts3 simself #simmer #ts3 portraits #if you reblog this i'll be eternally grateful #here goes nothing #I guess #I suck at tagging

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de-constructmybones · 11 months ago

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A TALE OF TWO LOVERS

After reading @transdunbar 's fic, i had been heavily inspired to create a drawing. Then I made the mistake of actually rewatching ATLA and rereading Nate's fic I had to draw my vision. :)

If you haven't please read Nate's fic(s), here's an amazing writer and deserves all the love.

Title: A Tale Of Two Lovers

Author: Disasterboy

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Tags: Alternate Universe - Avatar & Benders Setting, thiambigbang2023, Slow Burn, Trans Male Character, Idiots in Love, Good Theo Raeken, Misunderstandings, Sparring, Sparring as a form of flirting Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Summary: Enter Liam Dunbar: by night a skilled bender in an underground fighting ring, by day the perfect daughter of a wealthy Fire Nation family. Whenever he tries to bend under someone else’s instruction, it quite literally blows up in his face. When he's found by Scott McCall and his gang, he thinks it’s the perfect opportunity to help teach the Avatar firebending while learning to control his own. What he didn’t expect is the angsty waterbender challenging his every move. Enter Theo Raeken: the last waterbender of the Southern Water Tribe, orphan, and the Avatar’s childhood best friend. After his sister’s death, he swore revenge on the Fire Nation, and while Scott traveled the world to learn control of the four elements, Theo was more than content to tag along to both support his friend and fulfill his promise along the way. Picking up a Fire Nation stray isn’t on his agenda, especially not when the firebender’s temper runs as hot as the fire he controls. As the two benders travel throughout the four nations, they must try to get past their differences while fighting a war at the same time. There’s a reason water and fire don’t mix

#teen wolf #liam dunbar #theo raeken #fic rec #fic reccomendations #dylan sprayberry #cody christian #my digital art #digital art #digital artist #art #my art #avatar the last airbender #atla #ao3 #i suck at tagging #teen wolf fanart #teen wolf fanfiction

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leonotlara · 4 months ago

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The New V Part 2

Uzi finds herself missing V. Wishing she would come back. But be careful of what you wish for! (Post episode 7, Uzi isn't in space anymore, sorry about that.) But this time it's not a cliffhanger.

💜💛💜💛💜💛💜💛💜💛💜💛💜💛

"Uzi...?"

"V?!"

An ear-splitting silence rang, and everyone could hear it. The subjects looked at one another."Uzi!" V ran the small distance between them but came to a halt upon seeing her face. A face of fear. Like when they first met.

"Th-This has to be some sick joke.." The purple drone whimpered, "Right?!" She backed away, visor displaying hollowed-out eyes, screen glitching as her voice altered slightly. She had dreamt and longed for V for so long. Why did she now feel like she was living in a nightmare with her presence here?

Uzi shook slightly, wobbly legs slowly carrying her to the direction of the colony bunker, mind racing, and sensors heating up far too quickly for her liking. She looked up at her father, like a small and helpless child. Did he know about this? What about Thad? Or Lizzy? Or J? Wait... no, yeah, J would definitely do this to her.

"Did you do this?" She looked and pointed at J. As the female Disassembly Drone glared with a shake of her head, Uzi began theorising who did this. A long, defeaning silence fell on the group. A tiny crunch of the snow was heard, and V, looking bigger from Uzi's perspective, made her act quickly.

She flinched away the moment she saw V inching closer, who seemed startled at the sudden movement. Realising it was now or never, Uzi took off running as fast as she had come.

♤

Why had she come so quickly in the first place? She thought they found V's remains or some sort of part of her. Maybe a recording of her death. That would've made her calm down more than to see her back and polished. This wasn't the V she thought was there before the elevator fell. That V would be in ruins, not brand-new, and yet, she was there, outside the landing pod.

The hardest thing about this was the fact that Uzi could barely pinpoint how she felt about this, but the easiest way to learn how you feel about something is to understand it clearer.

First thing the next night, she will find J and ask her how V had been seemingly revived. She had to know.

She just had to.Staring upon the ceiling, the purple lights seem to be shining brighter on the photograph above her bed. Standing on her tiptoes, she reached up for it.

It was her and V having their first kiss together right after they came back from camp.

♤

"Come in." The voice drawled, the pod door creaked open. "What do you want?" The drone asked, her hand moved a strand of her bangs to see the one who opened the door.

"Is V here? Not that I really care, y'know I just..." Uzi took a deep breath before repeating the initial question. "Is V here?"

J looked at her, pausing from her writing on the notepad she had equipped on her hands, her expression of seriousness faltering into one of confusion. "Uh, yeah, she's just outside. You must have not noticed her when you went in. How did you not see her?"

"Oh.." Uzi sighed, taking a step backwards, her boot hitting the snow that blanketed the entirety of the planet.

Closing the door after a quick thanks, Uzi looked around the spire, from retracing her steps from the entrance, to craning her neck to look up at the ceiling, to the back, cobwebs in the corners.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

She wasn't there."V..?" Uzi uttered, her voice cracking. Never had she thought to say that name again.Well, she never thought any of this would happen, and yet, here she was!

There was a faint yellow light on the ceiling of the spire, squeezed in at the top. Calling her name out again, the glow blinked.

"V, please! Look, I.. I shouldn't have been so terrified... but you just came out of nowhere! Like, I am here, mourning over your stupid death, then you just pop back in?!" She yelled, stomping on the ground. "Like, who does that? No being eased into it? No evidence you're actually you? Not even an explanation? Nothing? Anything could've helped, but no, you just came back without any sort of heads-up! Just waltz back into my life after sacrificing yourself and an ominous 'Uzi I trust you'? Yeah, sure, whatever! Maybe I was better off without you! I never desperately needed you anyway! I never needed anyone to mess up my feelings! Especially not a fricken murderer! You should've just left! I'd have more peace, you stupid, inconsiderate-"

Silence.

The yellow light began shaking, shivering, and the glow disappeared, similar to eyes closing.

A sigh echoed off the walls, and Uzi's face had guilt written all over it.

"Look... V. I-I'm sorry... really am," She whispered, sitting atop the frigid snow, her voice shaky from the screaming. "and I totally get if you need time to recharge. I'll wait right here for you, the same way you always waited for me when I had my angsty teen outbursts..." she chuckled softly. As her vision dimmed, her eyes closuig slow enough to see the yellow glow opening up again quickly.

♤

The unfamiliar weight on her left side disappeared, falling instead upon her chest. Looking down, she felt her sensors heating up.

"Hey... V." Uzi smiled, giving her a hug. V's arms wrapped around her, both drones' internal fans working overtime from the sudden warmth threatening to overheat them, mimicking a cat's purr. Both girls were smiling so broadly their cheeks were aching, but it didn't matter.

"Aw…" V's voice came out in a soft laugh. It was nice to hear it again without being deathly afraid of it.

Uzi's eyes hollowed for a split second, remembering what she said to V a few hours prior. Guilt overtook her again, her chest tightening so bad she felt like she was crumpled up.

"Uzi-"

"I'm so sorry. I should've calmed down, I should've just taken control of my emotions, I should've - "

"Hey, hey..." she grazed Uzi's cheek with her hand. Though it was a cold metal, it felt as if it was actively melting it off.

"It's okay."

"I forgive you."

...

One question remained, however. How did V come back polished and new in the first place?

When Uzi voiced her thought to V, she bit her lip, almost as if she was avoiding the question.

"Well, it seemed that Cyn had copies of the Disassembly Drones floating in pods around the exoplanets. This means she can replace us whenever. She must've had us on auto-replacing, though, so whenever we break, a new one will fly here with all the memories we had before."

…

"I couldn't have come earlier, I'm so sorry, I couldn't. It was out of my control."

"It's fine. The important thing is that you're back.

"They interlocked fingers that were resting on the snow."It's good to have you back."

#murder drones vuzi #md vuzi #vuzi #serial designation v #serial designation j #uzi doorman #lizzy murder drones #thad murder drones #khan doorman #sapphic #light angst #angst #angst with a happy ending #fluff #gay gay homosexual gay #i suck at tagging

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