𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤 - 𝐣𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬

sobbing for you omg... thats a wild time gap :((

bkue beetle’s finally in hd!! i dont have to take scenes from the trailers for editing anymore!! and i cant wait to see jaime in hd again!!

teamwork (makes the dream work...?) pt. 4

Summary:

wc: 1k+

A/N: um hii sorry for updating a lil late 😅 but I got really into writing this esp at the end. We're almost done! As always feel free to comment your thoughts and reactions, or send them to my inbox! Thanks for reading :)

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Song: It's Only a Paper Moon - Ella Fitzgerald (totally optional to listen while you read, if you like that sort of thing)

The small plastic bag carrying your lunch swung from your wrist as you pushed the door to the counselor’s office open.

"Thanks again for helping me organize around here," said the woman standing beside you.

"No problem, Ms. Keene!"

By the time you stepped inside, Miles was already sitting at the round table in the middle of the room.

The boy spoke first as soon as your eyes met.

"Hey," he greeted you flatly. His stare wasn't too far off from the look of curiosity you get from a stray cat that isn't certain whether you're trying to give it food or not; neither malicious nor particularly excited.

You tilted your head in surprise.

"Hey, you in trouble or something?"

Miles shook his head.

"Ms. Keene lets me have lunch in here."

"You two know each other?" The tall, dark-skinned woman asked. Though she had asked you both, she beamed at Miles as she spoke. He glanced back and forth between you and the woman.

"Kinda."

She clasped her manicured hands together. 

"I'm glad you're starting to make friends again. That's progress. Enjoy your lunch," Ms. Keene said as she spun on her heel to leave, her short bob cut bouncing along with her.

"And put on those glasses!"

Miles rolled his eyes as the door shut with a click.

"Everybody's on your case about these glasses, dude. Just put 'em on," you said as you sat down next to him.

"Don't need 'em."

"Okay," you pointed to the analog clock hanging directly across from him, "tell me what time it is without using your phone."

He scoffed.

"Easy, it's…"

The boy stood, and squinted so hard that his nose scrunched. He heard you laughing through your nose behind him after a minute and soon dropped back down to his seat, hands raised in resignation.

"Alright, you got me. But who's looking at the damn clock all day?"

"Sitting in the back of the classroom with no glasses on is nuts, Miles. What's so bad about them?”

Miles pouted in indignation, "They make me look like Steve Urkel.”

“They can’t be that bad,” you said, grabbing the case from next to him and prying it open. “Lemme see.”

“Nope.”

“Just this once!”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Please?”

The boy sighed, then took the glasses from you with a wary expression. He looked at them like they were a moldy piece of bread before finally putting them on.

“Happy?”

Neon green color aside, the glasses were truly not that bad. The thick lenses framed his face and made him look younger. The boy blinked, awaiting your verdict.

“Awww, you look like a little nerd!”

“Don't start with that,” Miles shook his head, a grin spreading across his face in spite of himself. He swiped them off of his face and took the case from you.

“It’s not a bad thing,” you said over a bite of your sandwich, “you look cute in them.”

He froze, a hand instinctively flying up to scratch the nape of his neck before turning his gaze in the other direction. You could still see the impression of his dimples peeking out from the side.

“Don’t get a big head over it, now,” you elbowed him gently. He quickly changed the subject.

“I’m finna tell Ms. Keene that you’re distracting me.”

Miles was now hunched over his notebook again. He had his homework sheet covering one page, but you could tell he was sketching. When you tried to look over his shoulder, he frantically shut it closed.

“Can you not be nosy for five minutes?”

“My fault, bro, damn.”

Miles continued to draw quietly for almost the entirety of calculus, never once allowing you to peek at it. He didn’t pause until you lightly tapped his arm.

The boy flinched at the sudden contact, but you had his attention.

“I’m stuck on this problem you wrote, just this one. Help me out?”

He tapped his pen lightly on the desk in consideration. Finally, he shrugged, closing the notebook and sliding it to the side.

“Sure.”

You placed the worksheet between you and Miles, where your desks met.

“It’s this one. I’m not getting the solution you got,” you explained, placing a finger on the offending equation. 

Miles peered closely at it. His braids nearly brushed the desk as his head moved.

“You gettin’ it wrong because you forgot to distribute here,” he pointed. “Everything has to distribute.”

You nodded as the gears in your head got to turning again. “Thanks.”

-

“Ma!” Miles whined as he took his plate of yellow rice and peas from the table.

“I’m just saying! La chica es muy linda, sigues mirándola. Don’t do anything crazy up there, understand?”

You were far from fluent, but the first bit of the brown woman’s sentence made a shy smile grace your features.

“This looks so good, thanks Mrs. Morales.” you said as you grabbed your own plate, carefully carrying it with both hands. 

“No problem, baby,” the woman replied, gently smacking the back of her son’s head before sending you both upstairs. “Same time as usual.”

“Your mom’s nice,” you remarked once you entered Miles’ room.

“You just sayin’ that ‘cuz she gassed your head up,” Miles laughed.

“Whatever. I’m ‘bout to fuck this plate up!”

“Not on my bed, I hope.”

The boy gave you a warning glance.

“Relax, you see me sitting?” 

You blew on a spoonful of rice before trying it, and the flavor nearly made your eyes pop out of your skull.

“Your momma went crazy in that kitchen.”

“M-hm,” was all Miles could reply as he shoveled the rice into his mouth, already halfway through the plate.

Soon both of your plates had been scraped clean, and you started working after taking the dirty dishes downstairs to wash. All three calculus problems had been completed, but a small squabble broke out over the appearance of the slideshow that Miles had put together.

“It looks so boring,” you complained. “At least make the background a different color–”

“Uh-unh, you gon’ make it hard as fuck to read. I say we keep it simple,” the boy swatted your hand away from the keyboard.

“Make the title dark magenta, and you got a deal.”

He sighed, “Fine. It’s legible, I guess.”

It was still only 7:30 by the time the project was finished, and you didn’t feel like leaving behind the warmth of Miles’ home just yet.

“Can you play some music?” 

Miles spun around in his swivel chair.

“What kind?”

“I dunno, whatever you listen to,” you tilted your head at him quizzically. “What do you listen to?”

“Um,” He reached into a drawer and pulled out a small Bluetooth speaker, setting it on his desk. “Just…whatever I feel like. Lots of stuff.”

He carefully laid down on his bed next to you, making sure to maintain at least a few inches of distance.

Old jazz music began to float through the air.

“You like Ella?”

“Yeah,” he said at a near-whisper. “...I do now. Forgot what this song was called.”

“‘It’s Only A Paper Moon,’” you answered. “From ‘The War Years’. Beautiful record.”

Miles snuck a glance at the side of your face while you stared up at the ceiling. He liked the dreamy, far-off way you’d said the title.

“You sound old as fuck right now,” he commented. “Record…”

This made you burst into laughter, and Miles decided that he didn’t mind that sound, either.

“My momma always calls ‘em ‘records’, so I picked up the habit.”

“I like how you talk.”

You finally turned your head and met the boy’s eyes. The small grin playing on his face wasn’t a teasing one.

“‘How I talk?’”

“When you’re not grilling me with questions like a cop? Yeah, it’s nice.”

Not sure what to do with this new information, you turn your gaze back up to the ceiling.

“You’re a strange one, Miles,” was all you could say.

There was a brief pause before you asked,“What did you mean by ‘now’?”

Miles raised an eyebrow. “What’d I say about complete sentences?”

“Sorry,” you rolled your eyes. “You said you liked this song now, you didn’t like it before?”

He was silent for a good, long, ten seconds before answering.

“I used to not be super into jazz. Dad used to play that shit on the radio, driving me to school. I hated having to hear it the entire ride,” he laughed. “I know he’s somewhere making fun of my ass now.”

You hummed in acknowledgement, wondering if you should offer comforting words, or your condolences. Knowing Miles – at least a little – you decided against it.

“I used to listen to Ella songs when the house got too loud, or while I was eating lunch.”

“They let you listen to music down there?”

“Nah, I was eating upstairs with the English teacher after she saw me sitting by myself.”

“You still sit by yourself?”

Shaking your head, you answered, “I usually sit with Tianna, she’s usually my calc partner. This week’s kind of an exception.”

“So if it wasn’t for her, I woulda finished this shit three days ago,” he joked.

You placed your hand over your heart and gasped dramatically. “You mean you don’t enjoy being graced by my presence?”

“Hm,” Miles conceded, “I enjoy it a little.”

“Is this your way of saying we besties now?”

“Whoah, never mind. You killed the moment.”

“That was a moment?”

“Nope, forget everything I just said.”

-

Fun trivia since we're almost at the end: what book do you think Miles and the MC are reading in English class? There's no prize for answering but i'll be really excited about it. Thanks again for reading!

Taglist:

@thisaccountisrandomsstuff

@sizeablysized

@itsnotino

@asteria33

@kissmxcheek

@urmotherswhor3

@mrs-morales

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𝐜𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬 - 𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐢 𝐲𝐮𝐮𝐣𝐢

yuuji's not a hair stylist, and tsubame's mistake was letting him try anyway.

masterlist

✭ pairings: itadori yuuji x oc ✭ warning: mentions of abuse, canon divergent, pre-shibuya arc ✭ author’s note: i actually had a lot of fun writing this, it's a nice break of fluff from the angst HEH– ✭ word count: 2.7k words

disclaimer: i’m not of japanese descent and am unfamiliar with japanese honorifics, etc. feel free to correct me!

There’s nothing better than a good night’s sleep, everyone can attest to that. Tsubame couldn’t agree more if it weren’t for the nightmares that haunted her mind, ones of anger, ones of regret, but most recently, ones of her father, a man she trusted, one who should’ve cared for her since her mother’s passing.

His horrid sneer permeated her memory as he grabbed her hair pulling her around like a ragdoll, this one moment staining her memories of home. She would often wake up in tears after, sometimes not even realising that she was crying until she reached her hand up to find the trails of tears leaking down her face.

This led to her constant urge to cut off her hair, no matter how nicely she styled it. Just the feeling of her hands running through it made her shiver in discomfort. Up to this point, she held in her discomfort, tying it up in a simple ponytail to ignore the way she had to look over her shoulder constantly.

However, during a particular training session where her hair was lightly tugged on, it spiralled into a little fit of fight or flight, causing Tsubame to almost beat her classmate, Itadori Yuuji, into a pulp, which she felt extremely guilty about – she ended up buying him dinner for the next few days.

Tsubame sighed at her miserable reflection in the mirror, scissors in hand as she willed herself to cut her hair to a shorter length, fearing that she might hurt someone else if they weren’t the wiser. Heck, she still couldn’t explain to Yuuji why she reacted in such a fashion, the words dying in her mouth the moment she tried to explain. 

Sweet as ever, he never pushed her, only smiling in acceptance as he lightheartedly brushed off her little outburst as an outcome of her trained instincts. It didn’t help with Tsubame’s guilt, however.

Just as Tsubame raised the scissors to make her first cut, her bathroom door burst open, interrupting the silence as she jumped, almost snipping off a big chunk of her hair. Relief washed over her nerves as she saw that all her hair was still very much intact.

“Itadori,” Tsubame huffed, placing the scissors on the sink’s countertop to rub her face anxiously. “How many times have I told you to knock before you enter my dorm…”

Yuuji nervously rubbed his neck, a sheepish smile on his face as his tone was filled with apology, “Sorry about that, it’s just that the others were– are you cutting your hair?”

His big brown eyes now looked at her in curiosity as he pointed at the scissors on her countertop. Tsubame followed her eyes to where he pointed, and she exhaled softly, nodding. Yuuji didn’t miss the way she looked fidgety, almost as if she wasn’t sure about her decision to cut her hair.

“Hey… are you alright?” Yuuji frowned softly, looking over to the scissors. “You don’t look confident about cutting your hair. Is this about last time? Tadashi, I really am sorry, I didn’t mean to tug on your hair–”

In an instant, Tsubame shook her head, reassuring him that it wasn’t his fault she was cutting off her hair, “No, no, Itadori, it wasn’t your fault. It’s just… my hair was getting in the way, you know?”

Yuuji frowns, not buying her lie, but he doesn’t push it. Tsubame knows he can see past her lie, and part of her hates how well he can read her. Sometimes, she forgets that just because he’s not as academically advanced as Megumi and her (as she often finds herself tutoring her pink-haired classmate, not that she minded), it didn’t mean that he doesn’t read people and their emotions well.

He sees the way her hands shake slightly, and he gently takes her palms into his, the sparks returning as she swiftly looks up at him, his kind eyes looking into her nervous ones. He doesn’t say anything about the pink blush on her cheeks, a soft smile growing on his face.

“Would you like me to help you?” He asks gently. “You’re uh, shaking quite a bit.”

Tsubame looked at the scissors once more before her attention darted to her hands which were engulfed by his larger, warm ones. She bit the inside of her cheek, exhaling softly before nodding.

“Okay,” she nods, finally meeting his gaze.

She never wears a smile, Yuuji notes. Tadashi is never seen with one, but everything is in her eyes, the way she carries herself. From the slightest hunch, he could tell she was either exhausted, or the stress from a mission was weighing her down. From the slight quirk of her eyebrow, she was thinking about the answer to a question Gojo-sensei asked, and from the little glimmer in her eye as she held a book in her hand he could tell she was excited, turning every page eagerly.

But right now, her eyes are soft, gentle almost. It’s quite the contrast from her sharp wit and tongue, and he feels his heart flutter softly as she looks so gently at him. Yuuji begins to smile, taking Tadashi’s hair in his hands.

“You’ve got pretty hair, are you sure you want to cut it?” He asks softly, and she nods, more confident in her choice this time.

“Yeah, I just… I want it short, I can’t really… maintain long hair anymore,” She huffs softly, looking at herself in the mirror as Yuuji stands behind her, her soft hair in his hands.

It’s silky, he thinks to himself, and it easily cards his fingers through her hair. Tsubame flinches but, his touch is gentle, and it reassures her that she’s in safe hands.

Finally, Yuuji raised the scissors, snipping away bits of her hair, bit by bit, and Tsubame kept her gaze on her hands, watching as bits of her dark locks fell onto the floor, bit by bit. It's a moment of silence between them, one of mutual trust.

Unfortunately, that trust is broken the moment Tsubame looks up at her reflection, seeing that her hair really is, rather awkwardly cut, with bits of hair sticking up and cut to uneven lengths. Horror fills her as she sees this change, but Yuuji doesn’t seem to notice her look of shock as she quickly pulls out her phone, texting Nobara and Megumi for help.

“Who you texting?” Yuuji asks in curiosity, Tsubame shrugging as she tries to cover up her previous expression with a small hum.

“Just Nobara and Megumi,” She hums softly. “I just uh, wanted a little outside opinion on the haircut.”

He grins, clueless as ever, “I’m sure they’re gonna love it! You look great with any hairstyle, to be honest.”

“...Yeah. Totally.”

Tsubame continued to eye her phone for a response, almost letting out a sigh of relief as Megumi quickly texted an ‘omw’. She plays with her fingers anxiously, dread filling her as she sees more and more bits of her hair falling onto the floor before finally Nobara and Megumi bust in, a laugh instantly escaping Nobara.

“Oh, my, god.”

“Shut up, Nobara,” Tsubame whispered to herself as Megumi eyed her haircut in amusement. He can see Yuuji smiling sheepishly as he holds a tuft of Tsubame’s hair in his hands, the said girl’s head lowered in humiliation.

“Oh come on, that’s hilarious!” Nobara grins, snapping a photo of Tsubame’s fuming face and badly cut hair.

Yuuji looks down at the haircut, brushing off some hair from his hands, “It’s not that bad, is it?”

“Oh, it’s so that bad, borderline horrifi– HEY!” Nobara hissed, clutching her forehead as Tsubame threw a tube of toothpaste right into her face.

“I’ll fix it,” Megumi sighs, walking over towards where Tsubame stood, gently pushing Yuuji aside as he takes the scissors, working his way through the mess.

Nobara mutters, rubbing her face, and eyeing Tsubame, “Sheesh, why’d you let Itadori help you? He clearly doesn’t look like he knows what he’s doing.”

Yuuji pouts a little at Nobara’s comment, and Tsubame can’t help but find it cute.

“Yeah, Tadashi, why didn’t you say anything?” Yuuji frowns, almost as if betrayed that she didn’t say anything.

Tsubame fiddled with her thumbs a little, calmed just the slightest from the way Megumi’s so gently cutting her hair – not that Yuuji wasn’t gentle, it’s just that he didn’t know what he was doing. Not one bit.

“Well, you were just really nice about it, and I felt bad if I told you it looked bad,” She mumbles, trying to brush it off with a shrug. “Besides, you were giving your best, and I admire that.”

Yuuji looked into her eyes, and with just one glance, he knew she was being honest. His stomach flipped a little in excitement, knowing that she was honest about her admiration towards him.

“Well, you could’ve just said it was bad,” Yuuji sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I know,” Tadashi looked away guiltily. “I’m sorry.”

He couldn’t help the way his heartstrings were tugged at the sight. 

He gently placed his hand on her shoulder, giving her the most reassuring look he could muster, “It’s alright, Tadashi. I get what you mean, but next time, just be honest with me, okay?”

Her eyes soften the slightest as she looks up at him. Since she can’t nod, she mumbles a small, ‘okay’, but what takes him off guard is the small upturn at the corners of her mouth. Yuuji felt his cheeks warm, turning them into a shade of pink similar to his hair.

“You guys are so mushy and ick,” Nobara sighs, winking at Tsubame’s direction. “Just get together already.”

Yuuji glared over at Nobara, his entire face red with humiliation. Tadashi’s face was the same shade of red as his, but as she glared her head moved and Megumi clicked his tongue, inwardly relieved that he hadn’t cut her hair yet. He placed his hand on her head, gently guiding it back before resuming his actions.

“Itadori and I just became friends, leave us alone,” Tadashi huffed. 

Yuuji agreed, his arms crossed against his chest in defiance, “Yeah, what she said!”

“And if I’m being honest, even though we just met, I trust you all,” Tsubame sighs. “So I might as well let you both in the secret, which Nobara has kept ever since we were kids.”

Yuuji raised his eyebrow in confusion, glancing over at Megumi who didn’t seem fazed in the slightest.

“Let me just… how do I phrase this,” Tsubame sucked her teeth in thought. “My name isn’t exactly Tadashi.”

“It either is or isn’t Tadashi,” Megumi quips, brushing the hair off of his hands, “Which is it?”

Tsubame sighs, fiddling with her fingers, “Fine, fine. It’s not Tadashi. Tadashi was a stupid name my parents picked when I was a kid because my grandparents wanted a grandson – my birth name’s Tsubame.”

Yuuji felt his jaw drop as he turned to Nobara who nodded in agreement.

“And you knew this the whole time?” Yuuji pouted in Nobara’s direction, the girl in question raising her hands in surrender.

“It’s a secret for a reason! I’m not that bad of a friend, sheesh,” Nobara puffed her cheeks in annoyance. “And Tsu-Tsu and I have been best friends since childhood, of course, she’d trust her secret with me!”

Tsubame mumbles a curse, a blush growing at the humiliating nickname, and Yuuji can’t deny how her flushed cheeks make him smile the slightest.

“Tsu-Tsu?” He grins, “Oh my god, can I call you that?”

“Absolutely not,” She glares, her cheeks flaring a darker shade of red.

“And done,” Megumi announced before Tsubame could lurch in Yuuji’s direction with her hands around his neck. “At least look at your hair before you murder Itadori.”

Tsubame sighed, placing her wire-frame glasses on the bridge of her nose before looking in the mirror, her eyes lighting up as she leaned closer, admiring her reflection, “...It looks great, thanks, Gumi.”

Megumi nodded in acknowledgement, but Yuuji brushed past the fact that they were on a nickname basis, more in awe of Tsubame’s new haircut.

Her long hair was snipped short into a pixie-cut kind of appearance, but the length of the hair varied, appearing to be longer at the front than the back with a little bit of her head shaved, resembling a medium fade undercut.

Perhaps it was the lighting in the bathroom or the overall renewed energy between them, but her eyes just seemed to sparkle more, and her presence just made his heart beat faster. Maybe it was the way her short hair framed her face better or the way he could see more of her true personality shine through as she admired her new haircut. It was definitely… unique, but she pulled it off.

“You look great, Tsubame,” Yuuji smiled, and his heart thumped harder when her coffee-coloured eyes met his. “I like this haircut on you.”

She rolled her eyes, and even if he was supposed to feel a little hurt by it, he couldn’t help but smile at her sarcastic tone, “You don’t get to like my haircut.”

“Oh, come on,” He whined playfully, pouting. “Don’t I get a little bit of credit? ‘Cuz if I didn’t mess up, you wouldn’t get to look this amazing?”

He can hear the annoyance in Tsubame’s voice, but the way her mouth quirks upwards and the way her eyes sparkle the slightest makes him think he’s hit the jackpot.

“Yeah,” She groans, admittance in her tone. “You did mess up my hair.”

“So, do I get to like it?” Yuuji grins, his heart beating faster, pride filling him at the sight of her smallest smile.

It was a step forward in the right direction, considering that this was the most direct form of happiness he’d received from her yet. He’s just that bit closer to breaking down her walls. 

“Yeah. It means you get to like it,” She crosses her arms, smile vanishing, but the twinkle in her eye says otherwise as she flicks his forehead gently, walking out of the bathroom.

Yuuji grins, following after Tsubame as Megumi sighs, tossing out the last of her hair into the bin, Nobara snickers as she takes a quick photo of Yuuji and her childhood best friend.

“Does that mean we get to use nicknames?” Yuuji peers over her shoulder as she huffs.

“No.”

“But you call Fushiguro ‘Gumi!” He frowns with a mumble, and she scoffs the slightest.

“Because we got along better, and I owe him lunch now for fixing up your mess,” She pokes his shoulder and he playfully whines.

“Then at least let me make it up to you!”

Tsubame hummed in thought, giving Yuuji the smallest smile, and that was enough to make him smile again. Her smile, her rare smile that no one else saw other than their little group, was enough to make him feel as though it was all he needed.

“I’ll think about your offer, but you can start with helping Gumi out with the tidying process,” She quips, walking out of the room as Nobara follows.

“What?!” Megumi grumbles, Tsubame’s voice echoing through her empty dorm room.

“You’re amazing, ‘Gumi! I owe you lunch and dinner!”

Yuuji sighed with a smile, grabbing the broom from the corner of the bathroom, and sweeping her hair together with amusement in his eyes.

“Ridiculous,” Megumi mutters to himself, watching his friend hum to himself happily as he sweeps up the bits of hair, as though he was simply re-energised at the sight of a girl smiling her smallest smile at him.

“Yeah, but didn’t you see her small smile, Fushiguro?” Yuuji grinned. “I’m closer to knowing the real Tsubame.”

“You’ve still got a long way to go,” Megumi hums to himself, tossing the last bit of snipped hair away.

“I know, but I’m not gonna give up just yet,” Itadori grins. “I’m so close, don’t ya think?”

Megumi thinks to himself in silence for a minute, taking a glance at a small picture by Tsubame’s bedside before opening her dorm door, his clothes and hands now free of stray hair.

“You’ve still got a long way more but… if anyone can open her up to us, it’d be you, Itadori.”

And that was enough encouragement for Yuuji as he grinned, walking out of the dorm as Megumi watched him in amusement.

“That’s enough for me to keep trying!” He laughs lightly. “I’m gonna be her best friend, just you wait!”

“Yeah… I’m sure you will,” Megumi nods in agreement.

“Now, where were they meeting for lunch? I’m starved.”

gif by @planetafiyu

taglist: @mooncleaver @underwateredwrld @mcmisbehaving @neteyamrealgf @khany2026 @tinkerbelle05 @iheartamajiki @sad-darksoul @yunymphs @saelestia @cheriiyaya @ladyth

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NOOOOO NO DON'T MAKE ME CRY

It's my life and I decide how to cope with cinematic traumas with crossovers

in my adventure time hyperfixation era 🫶🫶🫶 i will still post jaime stuff since i mean, im not done yet with ngotb yet lol, but take these little doodles for now!! (i have more coming soon lmao)

art taglist: @tinkerbelle05

comment or dm me if you'd like to be on the art taglist!

Manners (Request)

Sherlock x gn!child!reader, John x gn!child!reader

Genre: fluff

Request Description: Thank you for saying you’ll write for Sherlock, I appreciate it :) Could you do one where all the peeps are round for dinner (Sherly, Mycroft, Greg, John ect) and John invites his cousin round (like age 9) and she’s just like REALLY polite and even when Sherlock says something really mean from one of his deductions she just brush’s it off and forgives him for it and even Mycroft likes her (PURELY PLATONIC PEOPLE) and she asks to see the brains in the fringe and Sherlock is ECSTATIC

Warnings: none really

(A/N): the only warning here is really that i dont remember the sherlock characters THAT well. and ive totally forgotten who sherly is, so this fic must live without her hahaha

Keep reading

Uncle Locky (Sherlock X Niece!Reader)

Characters: Sherlock Holmes X Niece!Reader, Mycroft X Daughter!Reader

Universe: Sherlock

Warnings: None

Request: Before I begin I just want to say I am a huge fan of your blog, its pretty great. Anyway, I was wondering if you could do a one shot where the reader is Mycroft’s infant daughter and is being babysat by Sherlock and there is just a whole lot of fluff. Thanks!!

“Sherlock?” John called as soon as he entered the apartment. Sherlock looked up, looking confused. “Why are you cleaning the apartment? You never clean.” John mentioned, looking around the space. All experiments were hidden from sight, books were on the bookshelf, and piles of cases were hidden away from sight. The floor was clear and the furniture was wiped down.

Keep reading

↳ pairing : miles morales x reader

↳ synopsis : shenanigans with your favorite classmate :) (maybe even a secret crush)

↳ authors note : i'm rlly trying to expand through fandoms, plzzz don't leave i promise i still write hsrr ;o; !!!!! i'm gonna be on a LONG atsv brainrot plz <\3 wuts a proof-read idk what that iz (/j)

MILES MORALES was the new student two years ago, some people thought he was an oddball since the first day encounter with his dad.. but you didn't really mind it honestly. You had much more important matters to attend to, like not listening to gossip.

After learning he was in some of your classes, you decided to try and get to know the guy. He seemed pretty cool, and you never passed an opportunity to know someone new.

"Morales, right?" Miles hears from behind him, it's currently lunch and so he turns his head to see you standing there with a tray in hand. "Mind if I sit with you?"

Since that day, you two hit it off like crazy, with sharing interests and hobbies it wasn't hard to talk every single day and run out of things to talk about.

"So, my Uncle Aaron took me to this crazy place like 2 years ago maybe? But yeah, it's where I did one of my first graffiti art." He explained, leading you through the dark traintracks while holding your wrist so you don't lose him in the darkness. "Sounds cool! Is it the same one that you used in your essay?"

You listen to the echo of his laughter. "Yeah, it is.. He was a great man, made me who I am today."

The way he talks fondly about his Uncle makes your heart sting a little. Though you were never able to meet him yourself, the way Miles talked about him to you made it clear he was a man who loved his nephew like he was his own son, and it was like you could emphasize with his pain of losing him.

However your thoughts are interrupted at the loud sound of a light switch turning on, illuminating the room and different graffiti art draw on the walls. Miles laughs at your breathless expression, admiring the way your eyes seemed to glow at the art all around you.

"Heeey, look at that!" You chuckled, pointing at the 'Expectations' graffiti you brought up earlier. "You were so much shorter back then.." And Miles rolled his eyes at that comment, knowing that you were referring to the silhouette on the wall. "Very funny."

Then you realize theres a section of the wall thats covered with cloth, and he notices how you take notice of it. Miles immediately clears his throat, puts a hand behind his neck and looks at the ground. "Oh, uh.. that's a work in progress. I wouldn't want you to see i-"

Suddenly his spidey-senses go off, the second he looks up he already sees you right infront of the wall and about to touch the cover. "(name)!"

Pulling it off, it reveals a wall full of.. you? You were surprised that the details were down almost perfectly, your nose shape, your eyes and your smile. It was all so perfectly done that in a way it could either be flattering or a tiny bit creepy.

Of course, Miles being your best friend, you may or may not sketch or write about him every now and then (or rather all the time) depending on which one you felt like doing, but he didn't have to know that.

"I'm.. honored?" You laugh, looking back at your poor friend whos pulled his hoodie over his head and his hands covering his face. "Oh, come on! It's not that embarassing- And it looks good I promise!" You tried to reassure him, but the boy has no intentions on budging.

"I forgot I had that." Miles mumbled to himself, ignoring how you pull on his arm to try and get him to show himself.

At some point you've given up, and let the guy wallow in his own embarassment for a while. Your attention shifts back onto the art wall, seeing the several doodles and actual art pieces that you can only assume Miles was working on for the past 2 years you two were friends.

The much smaller doodles were your favorites, ones where he made you a tiny little creature were the cutest ones, and at some point you noticed how so many of them involved.. him. He drew tiny moments of you and him holding hands, going on walks, sharing earphones and little cliche date stuff.

You were about to say something, but are stopped at the realization Miles was right next to you while his eyes never seemed to break contact from yours. "Miles?" You say in almost a whisper, seeing how focused his gaze was on you.

"I mean, we're both smart enough to realize it.. right?"

The urge to play dumb was strong, it really was, but Miles could see through you like he was staring at glass. That's how well he knew you, and how transparent you were with him.

"And maybe I'm stupid enough to make up delusions in my head but.. do you.. feel the same?"

The question leaves you stunned, stammering to find an answer, but the serious facade Miles kept up melts at your nervous reaction. He begins to laugh, digging through his pockets and pulls out a paper you recognize all too well, it had to be either a drawing or a poem you had written for Miles and considering one of your recent ones going missing.. if what he had in his hands was that one, it gave him more than an answer.

That realization makes you gasp, and Miles' laughter only grows stronger as you've now realized what's happening in its full extent. Miles liked you, and he knew you liked him too.

"You cheeky-" You try to grab the paper from his hands, but the tall piece of shit tip-toe's just to make sure you couldn't grab it. "Whaat? What am I, hm?" He'll playfully taunt at you, still unable to control his smile as he knows that deep down you enjoyed this banter just as much as he did.

You two continue to playfully argue for a while, laughter echoing throughout the abandoned area as hours passed on and on. The talk about either ones feelings never came to light, but you two were content with the moment, and in another time you'd talk about the confusing thing that is the feelings you both mutually share.

You had all the time in the world, right? Miles Morales wasn't going anywhere.

shout out to jaime reyes for being literally the only dc superhero who not only has living parents, but also a supportive and loving relationship with his entire family!  king of work-life balance and communication!

AHHH IM SO GLAD YOU LIKED IT!! <3

𝐛𝐲 𝐞𝐲𝐰𝐚'𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 - 𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐲𝐚𝐦 𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲

neteyam sully had always been the responsible older brother, and part of that was looking after his rogue younger brother. And maybe becoming a regular patient at the local healers...

– pairings: neteyam x oc

– warning: fluff, canon divergent, cross-posted on wattpad

– author's note: this oneshot takes place about a year or so before the main events of avatar 2 (the evacuation of the sullys, etc.)

Neteyam Sully, respectfully, was the golden child. The one who could do no wrong.

Lo’ak Sully, on the other hand, was on the opposite end of that table. He was chaotic, rogue, and off-leash. Everything about him was to uproot his brother, to make his father notice him, albeit for the wrong reasons. And this often led to Neteyam taking the blame for his younger brother’s actions.

It became a habit. Lo’ak finds trouble, Neteyam is dragged along and the two of them end up with injuries. Well, that was the reason for the current situation that they were in.

Neteyam stood beside his brother, Lo’ak looking shamefully down at the ground as Jake had his arms crossed. The Toruk Makto let out a frustrated sigh at both his sons’ antics, gazing over their wounds.

Thankfully, it was nothing too serious, mainly scratches that bled a little along with bruises that could easily be healed with some salves.

Jake let out another huff as he pointed a finger at his younger son, Lo’ak’s gaze snapping up to meet his dad’s while Neteyam watched in silence.

“You are both grounded, no more flying off on your ikran without my permission for a week,” Jake huffed. “Neteyam, take Lo’ak to Mo’at so that she can heal the both of you. Have I made myself clear?”

“Yes, sir,” Neteyam responded clearly enough for his father to understand.

Lo’ak muttered under his breath and Neteyam elbowed his brother in a way that told him to keep his mouth shut. Jake’s eyes widened at his son’s defiance.

“I said, have I made myself clear?” Jake gave Lo'ak a stern look and Neteyam bit the inside of his cheek nervously.

"Yes, sir," Lo'ak strained out.

"Good. Now get yourselves patched up."

With that, Lo'ak stormed out with Neteyam trailing behind him. But before the eldest son could leave, Jake placed his hand on his shoulder.

"Keep an eye out so that your brother doesn't cause more trouble," Jake sighed. "And I think you might want to get familiar with the other healers. Just in case, for future purposes."

"Yes sir."

“Grandmother!” 

Neteyam called out to Mo’at as he entered the hut, a grumbling Lo’ak following behind. 

“Grandmother, we might need some help with our injuries!” The eldest child frowned at the absence of his grandmother’s visage.

“Grandmother?” Neteyam called out again before hearing a thud behind him.

The boy whipped around to find that another figure had hopped down from a nearby branch, their face covered by curly locks.

“The tsahik has left to collect more herbs.” Her soft voice spoke as she approached the two brothers.

The girl put on a soft smile as she greeted the Olo’ekytan’s sons with their traditional greeting. From there, the boys took in her appearance, noting that she couldn’t be much younger than Neteyam.

Feathers dangled from her necklace, the upper layer a mint green, the lower a crimson red while another choker-like necklace was settled higher up on her neck, semi-precious stones attached to it. 

“Oel ngati kameie,” She smiled, and for a minute, Neteyam thought he felt his heartbeat stutter.

Lo’ak returned the gesture, nodding at the girl before glancing over at his brother. The younger son stared at the elder one in confusion as he elbowed his brother from his frozen state.

Neteyam blinked, pushing Lo’ak’s elbow away before hurriedly repeating the hand gesture of their greeting, his eyes never leaving hers. 

“Oel ngati kameie,” He muttered, snapping out of his daze. “Are you… Are you a healer?”

“In training,” the girl replied with a kind smile. ”The tsahik entrusted me to take care of her healing place and to help in case anything were to happen. She predicted correctly, as per usual.”

Neteyam chuckled with a bright smile, something that didn’t pass Lo’ak’s suspicious stare.

“Well, grandmother is always right about most things,” he grinned. “So if you’re in charge, could you help tend to our wounds then?”

“Of course,” she beamed with a joking twinkle in her eye. “It is a healer’s job to heal, isn’t it?”

Lo’ak noticed how his brother didn’t reply at all, only smiling as though he were in a trance as the girl sat him down on a nearby cot. The younger brother followed, a small mischievous smile growing on his face as he realized his brother’s giddy grin.

Neyetam himself hadn't realized it, but he was enamored by her grace and poise as she walked around the hut, gathering the salves. He smiled gently at the way her hair framed her face perfectly. 

He felt as though whenever her kind eyes met his, he was being pulled into something dangerous but calming at the same time. And unknowingly, his heart beat a little bit harder when she placed her hand gently against the wound on his arm, the healing balms cooling on her finger tips.

Her hands were immaculately soft, and he felt his cheeks warm at the sensation. Neteyam quickly glanced away from the healer as soon as he saw how dangerously close her face was to his. He spotted her ochre eyes focused on treating his injury through her lashes, but he didn’t feel the sting of the salve meeting his skin.

“So, uh,” Lo’ak began, clearing his throat as the girl looked up at his brother’s direction.

“What’s your name?”

Neteyam’s face heated up in embarrassment at the thought of staring at her for so long without even knowing the girl’s name. He was internally thankful that Lo’ak spoke up.

“Näytle,” The girl smiled at the boys. “Näytle Te Ìviu Oa’ite.”

Neteyam repeated her name in her head, committing it to memory as he loved the way her voice so smoothly rang in his mind. 

Suddenly, she called his name and he felt like he was stuck in a daze again. His name rolling off of her tongue sounded so… right.

“Yes?” He blinked in response.

“I said your name correctly, yes?” 

The way her head tilted ever so slightly had his heart melting in his chest.

“Yes, yeah,” he nodded quickly. “Y-You said it perfectly.”

“Oh, thank Eywa I did.” She chuckled lightly as she released his arm. “I would’ve been so embarrassed if I had gotten either of your names wrong.”

“Well it’s hard to get it wrong,” Lo’ak shrugged. “Our names are really popular around the village–”

Lo’ak was interrupted with a silent hiss as he felt his brother lightly slap the back of his head. Näytle giggled at the brothers’ antics, watching the way a dumb grin returned to Neteyam’s face while Lo’ak grumbled, frowning at the gesture.

“No, no,” Näytle shook her head. “Your brother does have a point. You two have both built a reputation as the Olo’eyktan’s sons.”

“Is it anything good?” Neteyam queried with eager eyes, wondering if her thoughts on him were positive. He prayed to Eywa that they were only good things.

“Oh, it is perfectly fine,” the healer hummed with a grin. “I don’t think I would let what I hear from gossipers determine what I should think of you.”

“Well, I think you should expect our visits more often.” Neteyam placed up at the girl shyly.

“Why? Are both of you troublemakers?” Näytle gave him a questioning look and the older boy shook his head vehemently.

“Only Lo’ak. I’m just keeping an eye out for him.”

“Hey!”

“But that doesn’t mean I’m not getting any injuries.”

Lo’ak huffed at his older brother for throwing him under the bus in such a fashion, especially for a girl.

“Well try not to be injured too much,” Näytle lifted her fingers from Lo’ak’s scraped knee, the salve applying smoothly on his rigid skin as she pulled away to return the lotions used.

“We can’t have the future Olo’eyktan be in bad condition before his rule.”

The girl finished off, tossing him a wink and Neteyam laughed stupidly at the joke. 

Lo’ak stood up from the cot, rolling his eyes in mock disgust as he grabbed his brother’s uninjured arm, dragging Neteyam away from his love-stricken stupor. 

“Yeah, okay! No promises though!” Neteyam called out from the hut’s doorway to where Näytle stood.

“Come on, skxawng,” Lo’ak grumbled, dragging his older brother away. “Your ogling eyes make me sick.”

“Maybe if you didn’t get us in trouble so much you wouldn’t be suffering now.” Neteyam ruffled his younger brother’s hair. 

“Besides, I don’t get what’s making you so sick. She’s a great healer.”

“Oh brother,” Lo’ak smiled at his brother in disbelief, his confident stride halting. “You’re seriously not this dense, are you?”

Neteyam’s confused smile was all the proof that Lo’ak needed to know that his brother was utterly clueless about his feelings towards the beautiful healer who homed the hut not too far from where they stood. 

“Maybe it was by Eywa’s will that you met her.” Lo’ak scoffed. “This is the worst punishment for my actions ever.”

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gif by @world-of-pandora

taglist: @mooncleaver @moonie-writings @peacelovepandora