Manners (Request)

- synopsis: gojo misses you :D

a/n: HHAHREHRAHRKJEHRKJER- oops. sorry, i meant hehe-

Seconds pass by, slower than the next as Gojo dully stares at the blackness of his blindfold.

For once, he was glad that the blindfold covered his eyes because if anyone, anyone saw what the blindfold was hiding-

he couldn't let that happen.

Your voice swirled around his head, like a hurricane.

Except in his mind.

Echoes upon echoes bounced off his mind like an endless pattern, of tears, of heartbreak, grief, of loss.....

and of you.

everything, everything he looked at, he touched, he smelled, he felt-

reminded him of you.

but at the same time, it didn't.

He remembered how you would say his name, how you laughed, but he couldn't remember what you looked like.

Just a hazy memory.

He fell, harder then he fell for you, down into the endless abyss of 'i couldn't save them.'

'i had so much left to say.'

But he couldn't say them, and the bitter taste of unspoken words fell upon his tongue, souring even the sweetest of candies.

Candy was a close enough taste of your lips, but it wasn't it.

Pooling up in his heavenly eyes, Gojo attempted to close his eyes, close off his feelings, and close off the thoughts of you, but tears still fell from the eyes that held his power.

His blindfold soaked the tears up, a comforting touch, a comforting replica of your touch when you brushed his tears away.

But your touch remained buried deep in the ground.

Engraved on a stone, covered in a bland, simple, grey.

Everything was such a simple word to him.

everything meant something priceless beyond repair, everything was a different word from forever, just a different meaning.

everything was you.

It didn't matter, because everything was gone.

All that was left, were fragments and shards of a broken heart, and an even more broken mind.

his everything was gone.

taglist: @no-b10g-here @anxious-chick @aleluvsuu @funky-writes @oneofthesevensins @ladywinterfell13 @kazhyloveslaw @dazaisms @cyb3r-c44t @princessluvz @notherenortherejustaway @okaydokeyyo @iheartamora @haloswrld @churipu @lysaray @olivianyx @desihopelessromantic @kiri1330 @scryarchives

h-hey folks!! hows your day going😇

teamwork (makes the dream work...?) pt. 2

summary: miles is not exactly a productive work partner

wc: ~800

A/N: not much plot movement here, but a tiny bit of exposition sort of. Miles will calm down in the following chapters...maybe 🥴

prev. next

"Oh Miles? He's in some of my AP classes. Honor student," Your friend's voice filtered through your phone speakers while on the FaceTime call. She popped a potato chip in her mouth as she sat in bed and sniffled, at home with a nasty cold.

"I've heard his name before. I think his dad died, that true?"

"Yeah, a couple years ago. Say he used to be really sweet, and now he don't talk no more."

"That's sad," you remark. "Maybe that's why I'm only seeing him now."

"You actually saw him in class?!?"

Your friend's face was the picture of disbelief, eyes wide as saucers as if this was a rare event.

"Yeah, he's my partner for the week cuz you decided to go and get yo ass sick!" you explained, dramatically jabbing a finger at your phone screen.

"It's not my fault that kid from AP Chem sneezed on me, damn!"

"He's really smart, but his attitude fucking sucks. He draws good, though," you think out loud.

“It’s just a week, sis, give it four more days, you’ll be fine.”

“You’d better hope so, for your sake.”

-

The following afternoon saw you asking around, trying to piece together a picture of this kid that everyone simultaneously knew and didn’t know. By the time lunchtime ended and Ms. Jones’ calculus class rolled around, you had heard the following:

‘Almost flunked out of school…on purpose’.

‘Did graffiti on the school walls once.’

‘Freakishly quiet’.

‘Secretly joined a gang’.

That last bit made your stomach turn a little as you approached your new temporary seat. Sure enough, Miles was already slouched at his desk, twirling that same pen between his fingers like a drumstick. You didn’t bother to say ‘hi’ this time. He didn’t bother to look up, either.

Miles didn’t say a word during the lecture portion of class, not even to answer questions. Would explain why you’d hardly noticed him until this week.

As the heavy-set math teacher scanned the classroom, she frequently craned her neck and made brief eye contact with Miles, but never cold-called him.

Her skin was a chestnut shade, and she kept her dark hair pinned back in a tight, slick bun. The way she pressed her lips together as she moved on suggested that they’d been through this before, and she'd be sorely disappointed.

When her lecture ended, Miles suddenly stood to his full height.

You weren’t able to tell by the way he sat, but the boy was quite lanky. Even with his awkwardly-broad shoulders slumped, he likely was a half a head taller than you. Ms. Jones stopped her slow pacing around the classroom and sighed.

“Miles, sweetie, what did I say yesterday?”

Miles looked up at the ceiling and sighed in exasperation before plopping back down into his chair. He raised his hand as if it pained him to do so.

“Yes, Mr. Morales?”

“May I please use the restroom?”

A few snickers could be heard erupting around the classroom, and the woman rolled her eyes. An innocent smile was plastered over Miles’ face, revealing two deep dimples in his cheeks. If the smile had actually reached his eyes, you would’ve thought he was cute.

“Go ahead,” Jones relented.

The boy dropped the smile and noisily pushed his chair aside; As he shot back up from his seat and strolled past your desk towards the door, Jones narrowed her eyes at him.

“Hold it. Sir, where are your glasses?”

Miles stopped in his tracks, groaning loudly.

“Oh my god, I don’t need glasses to go potty, Ms. Jones. I can aim, I promise.”

“Make sure you put them on as soon as you get back, your mother told me to remind you. Go,” Jones said, waving her hand dismissively.

“Uh-huh, thank you, ma’am!” The boy was already in the hallway, letting the door slam behind him.

Today's partner work was just a packet of long equations to simplify, so you were only mildly irritated that Miles never seemed to return from his impromptu bathroom trip until the last fifteen minutes of class.

You looked up as he sauntered over to his desk, hands in his pockets.

“Where were you? Class is almost over,” you demanded.

Miles ignored you and sat down, picking up his pen to work at a long string of equations at lightning speed.

Suddenly, you reached over and snapped your fingers in front of him. The boy looked up with his lips curled into a grimace.

"What's good witchu? You got through the work, didn't you?" Miles hissed in a low whisper to avoid catching Ms. Jones' attention.

You frowned deeply. "And what if I didn't? I'd be struggling while you were off running around the damn school-"

"I needed time to myself," he interrupted. "To think."

" 'Think' about what?"

"Personal shit," Miles resumed his problem-solving. "Any more questions, officer?"

The school bell rang, pulling from you a sigh of relief that you wouldn't have to see him again for another 24 hours.

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my writing masterlist ✧ requests are currently: open

jujutsu kaisen

itadori yuuji: ❀ lost little dreamer | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | final ❀ cutting ties ❀ new romantics [actor au]

sukuna ryomen: ✄ dead to me [actor au]

gojo satoru: ✧ attention [actor au]

nanami kento: ☏ dad!nanami [headcanons]

blue beetle 2023

jaime reyes: ✭ new girl on the block | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | final

avatar: the way of water

neteyam sully: ✿ by eywa's will ✿ arranged | part 2

af·fec·tion - Jaime Reyes x Haphephobe!Reader

Word Count: 1,650

Summary: Jaime can say a lot of things are weird about his life: one of his best friends is from an obsolete future, he has a snarky sentient piece of alien technology fused to his spine for life, and his partner always seems to flinch when he reaches out to touch them. At first, he thinks it is little more than them being jumpy and spaced out, until Khaji Da informs him that scans show genuine fear and anxiety.

Notes: Requested by @pink-lemonadae-san for a reader with haphephobia (fear of physical contact). I tried my best with this one, I’m not familiar with this fear. Also, more geared towards Young Justice, the Animated Series, but only as a reference.

…★…

Jaime can say a lot of things are weird about his life: one of his best friends is from an obsolete future, he has a snarky sentient piece of alien technology fused to his spine for life, and his partner always seems to flinch when he reaches out to touch them. 

He almost doesn’t notice it at first – the way that you seem to flinch when someone touches you, muscles tense. But you always seem quick enough to hide it with a smile that seems painfully faked to him and an assurance that you really are fine, just spaced out a bit. But after each time, you seem to curl in on yourself a bit tighter and put some more distance between yourself and anybody within the immediate vicinity. 

Jaime just thinks it has more to do with you spacing out than it does anything else, or maybe you’re just not as keen on touch. That much was fine, while a lot of the people he knew could be touch driven, that did not mean that everyone was. So, Jaime avoided touching you as much as he could, at least while you were friends. 

Things began to shift a bit more when he finally asked you out, overjoyed when you agreed to a date. And then even more elated when at the end of the night when you ask him for a second one. Not wanting to push his luck, he had not asked for a kiss, instead reaching out for a hug, which you had returned – but not before he swore that he saw a flicker of fear across your face. 

You never said anything about it though, and so he brushed it off. 

Things continued on this way for a while. 

Jaime does not just jump in to touching you, choosing instead to keep it more reserved, at least in public. Major PDA certainly doesn't seem like the sort of thing that you would be on board with, and he cannot fault you for that much. But the little touches do pick up more in private – taps on the shoulder, a quick hug, etc. Things seemingly so innocent that Jaime never pays their acts a second mind. 

The fact that you never initiate them seems to go over his head. After all, you show your affections for him in other ways – ones that have become obvious to him as the relationship had progressed, so it never comes down to a question of your feelings. 

And still he chalks up the jumping to you being lost within your own head. You wouldn’t be the first person he knows to be like that, and you never tell him otherwise. Any discomfort on your part is quickly hidden. 

Khaji Da has been, for the most part, instructed to leave it be – when the sentient tech had expressed a desire to scan you earlier on. Feeling too much like an invasion of privacy, while also throwing the agreement that only teammates could be scanned and only in battle. As far as people that Jaime trusted went, that was. So reluctantly Khaji Da had backed off the topic. After all, the scarab had been assured, if something was wrong, they had to trust that their partner would be upfront about it. 

That was likely why it surprises Jaime so much when Khaji Da pipes up one day, directly after he has hugged you. 

“Scans indicate that your partner is afraid, Jaime Reyes.” 

It was a weird enough sentence to hear, and Jaime was too confused to be annoyed that Khaji Da had scanned you. But afraid? There was nothing that should be causing that – the area was clear, it was a quiet and calm day, you had been fine for most of it, and you had yet to tell Jaime something was wrong. 

Scared couldn’t be right, could it? 

So, he ignores it, instead enjoying the rest of the day with you. He can talk to Khaji Da about it later. 

But later comes sooner than expected when the date is at an end and Jaime goes to hug you once again. 

It's that same voice echoing in his head: “Scans indicate a spike in your partner’s cortisol and adrenaline levels, indicating stress of fear, Jaime Reyes.” 

This has his attention. The only thing that had changed was him touching you, but still, you make no mention of it, pulling away and wishing him a goodnight before moving off in the direction of your home. 

Jaime calls after you, telling you to stay safe, but the gears in his head are turning to the point of smoke and it is Khaji Da who has to prompt him back into moving finally. 

“Khaji Da.” 

The scarab responds to that, a little whirr that tells Jaime the spotlight is his. 

“Are you sure that they were afraid both times I touched them?” 

“Affirmative, Jaime Reyes, your partner showed signs of distress.” 

It’s silent for a moment before Jaime asks his next question, quiet as he can, almost as though he is trying to avoid the answer. “Do you think they’re scared of me?” 

“Unlikely. Your partner actively seems relieved to be with you unless physical contact is initiated.” 

“But if they’re scared of touching me-” 

Before Jaime can finish his sentence Khaji Da has already interrupted him. “Your partner shows signs of distress at all physical contact, including that initiated by other individuals. This is not isolated to you.” 

“How long have you been scanning them?” This was too much information for the scarab to have from one day alone, and Jaime knew that much. 

In almost an embarrassed fashion, Khaji Da could be felt almost receding from the edges of Jaime’s mind before answering. “Two weeks.” 

“We talked about this, ese.” 

There’s an indignant clicking in protest before it seems to calm. “Your partner has not confided in you about their fear and steps had to be taken to find the cause. Best course of action: speak with them directly.” 

Jaime can’t argue with that. Whatever the cause of your fear was, you had certainly tried your best to hide it. And it had been a success. But Jaime had to speak with you about it eventually if things were going to get better – it admittedly hurt to know you were scared to touch him, and despite Khaji Da’s words, part of his concern was that you feared what he was capable of. 

A call or text message was not going to cut it, so Jaime would wait until Wednesday when he could speak with you in person again. No heads-up, he didn’t need to leave you a nervous wreck if he told you there was something the two of you needed to talk about. It wouldn’t be good to have that stewing under the surface for a few days. 

So, to say you seem a bit surprised when you show up Wednesday and Jaime has his hands in his pockets is an understatement. You expect a hug or for him to reach out to you – even if it terrifies you – but instead you’re met with no attempt. Paired with the serious look on his face, it begins to leave a feeling of unease prickling along your spine. 

“Did I do something?” 

That catches him off guard for a moment and Jaime is quick to assure you that no, you had not, but he does need to speak with you – and he needs honesty. 

It does nothing to settle the worry you feel, and already this conversation is headed in a direction you really do not like, already having a vague idea of what the issue is. 

Jaime struggles for a moment, trying to find the words that he needs without sounding as rude out loud as it seems in his head: “when people touch you do you...” He trails off, sighing before waving his arms outwards. Finally, he relents. “Khaji Da scanned you – I didn’t know about it!” he clarifies quickly, seeing your raised brow. “But scans show that when people touch you that you get.... scared?” 

His words seem to have an effect, and Jaime watches as your shoulders slump, your eyes focused anywhere other than on him. And then he sees it, a weak nod. So, he was correct. 

“Haphephobia - it’s the fear of being touched.” You have to stop for a moment, pulling in on yourself. “It isn’t just by strangers though, it’s by anyone, even family and friends.” 

Things are beginning to make sense for Jaime – little actions he had not stopped to consider before, things said by family or friends of yours that he had met. “You know you could have told any of us; we wouldn’t push you about it.” 

“I was told to just get over it – and a lot of our friends have a touchy love language. Besides, aren’t you supposed to be able to touch your own partner?” 

Jaime frowns at that, the tone he picks up on too depreciative for his liking. “There are other ways to show you care.” 

He doesn’t get a response from you, seeing you backed up into your own invisible corner, like you could make yourself vanish if you tried hard enough. “Hey,” he starts, soft as he can, “you show me you care in all kinds of ways – we can figure out how to handle this, and so can our friends. But we can’t start fixing things if we don’t know there’s an issue.” 

“I know, I guess I just didn’t want you guys to be disappointed.” 

“If we knew and ignored it that would be a different thing, but we can work with this,” Jaime assured. It was almost instinct to reach out, but he managed to catch himself in time, offering his partner a smile that seemed to finally have them relaxing. 

“I’d like that.” 

They're besties, your honor.

The most amazing human Ive ever met.

The Innocence of Brutality Pt.1 [Legolas/F!Reader]

A.N: I’ve been working a lot on FATE (my long fic…you should check it out) so I haven’t been posting many one-shots. BUT FINALLY….here you go! It’s a bit different from my usual one-shots but hey I figured I may as well give it a go. This will have many parts depending on how much traction it gets  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Request: none

Pairing: Legolas X Reader

Summary: The Reader is Rámaitë Mahtar, a warrior spirit race, and she meets the fellowship on their quest to destroy the ring. 

Disclaimer: Any mythology relating to the Rámaitë Mahtar is not canon as I made up Rámaitë Mahtar. Also, all elvish was translated from a translator site—it may not be accurate.

Word count: ~8k (yes I went overboard)

Warnings: nudity (not sex), mentions of war, mentions of torture, violence, fluff

MASTERLIST | AO3 | WATTPAD

The Innocence of Brutality Masterlist — PART 2

The sky had been getting darker and darker as the hours went by, the sun slipping into a restless dream as a storm brewed. Clouds hung deep and gray high above the fellowship while claps of thunder neared them. It was a grumbling and crackling battle of light and dark. With every booming sound, the menacing void loomed closer and closer, electrifying the air with anxiety. It was casting above them at a rapid rate—a rate at which they could not outrun.

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