The phone rings. Once. Twice. Thrice… and Gojo Satoru found himself contemplating hanging up, yet just as the thought formed, you answered, on the sixth ring.
"Hello," your voice emerged painfully neutral.
He couldn’t tell if now’s a good time. He hears some background music, akin to the subdued chatter of a small crowd, as though you were in a café of some sort. He thinks, no— he knows this a bad idea, but the words tumble out of his mouth anyway. “Hey, it’s me Gojo Satoru.”
"Yes, I know, Satoru," you replied with tint of slight irritation
You didn’t delete his number. At least this is a hopeful start.
“Happy birthday,” he said. “I know I'm a few hours late. I'm sorry.”
"Thanks... you don't have to apologise," you replied, your tone truly void of any accusation. Right, he thinks, it’s not his place.
“I know, but I still feel sorry,” he confesses. “I feel bad.”
“Okay,” you respond flatly, and there’s a pause that extends into almost a minute of full silence before you speak up again, “Is that what you called me for? To wish me?”
“Yes,” he says.
“Okay,” you say, letting a pause mull over you. “I’ll get going then. It was nice talking to you.” you say.
“I— I forgot your birthday. I only remembered it a few minutes before,” he adds, his words flowing out a bit hastily just in case you cut the call on him,l. It would pull the plug on him forever, leaving him breathing heavy and heavy until he’s left alone to drift away in the dark.
"Uh, okay," you responded, sounding confused.
"I mean, I hated that," he continued, his words flowing in an anxious succession. "I hated seeing you become this... this person I used to know. Whose birthday I couldn't even remember. I used to be the first to wish you, every day for years. Do you remember that?” he asks. “I miss that."
“Yeah, I remember," you murmur softly. You remember it. But in your recollection, what emotions dwell? Do you remember it with a sense of fondness? Do you remember it with sadness? Or did you remember it as a cautionary tale? He couldn’t tell.
“I miss that,” he repeats because his words are limited and he’s scared of saying anything more but he’s more scared of saying nothing ever again.
A beat passes by, and he stays still in his seat, holding his breath for nothing in particular.
“Me too,” your voice comes out. It doesn’t sound like a confession, it’s the one thing he liked about you — how your confessions came out of your mouth like indisputable facts. I like your smile. I like your eyes. I like you. I love you. These sentences didn’t seem like a confession; you would say it and he would know for it to be as true as the moon in the sky.
He smiles, “How did you celebrate?”
You sighed, "Not much. Dinner with the family, drinks with some friends, and now I'm heading back home."
"It's only 11 pm," he chuckled, as though he wouldn't be in bed by 9 himself.
“Yeah," you chuckled in return. "Guess some things have changed."
“Not really, you were still a bit of a grandma back then,” he teased.
“I was not!” you protested. You were not.
"There's no shame in that," he reassured, well loving and accepting of your homebody nature.
“There’s an hour left,” you say all too suddenly, interjecting him into a pause.
“An hour?" he spoke up, puzzled.
"Of my birthday," you clarified.
"Right," he responded, uncertain where this was leading.
“Well, you can always make it up to me.”
“Make what up?” he asked.
“Not wishing me,” you specified. “There's still another hour left.”
A smile crept onto Gojo's face, and he was already reaching for his car keys as swiftly as your words had emerged from your lips.
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don’t care what y’all think of cyno, he is one of the biggest green flags in genshin. he sticks to his principles and would treat you right, however awkward and clumsy he might be. he’s willing to listen and while he’s very scary to others, he tries his best to be softer around you. very protective and would not let any slander against you go unpunished. will remember each of your dates and anniversaries — if he has a notebook for his lame jokes, you bet he’ll have a calendar and notes for your relationship.
july x — first date went well. ate the steak but didn’t touch the carrots - doesn’t like vegetables(?), will need more evidence. looked at a rose for five seconds - need to bring roses next date. laughed at my slime joke - remember to tell more in the future. (note to self: wear blue tomorrow to match outfit colors)
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It's not that she isn't scared.
She is. She is absolutely terrified, but she also knows what it is like to be terrified and alone, when fear paralyzes her and she is pushed to the center of the world and swallowed whole. No one comes to save her, no one steps between her and the hands clawing at her.
Well, no one did.
Gunshots echo in her ears, and while she isn't hurt, dizziness is a blurry layer in her vision, and she is pretty sure the seat belt left a nice straight bruise right across her chest. Unimportant, though, considering there's still a bunch of people shooting at them, and with her breaths coming too quickly and shallowly, it's hard to see through gaps in the doors and windows without feeling like she will topple over.
Distantly, she is processing what Joel is telling her, do what he says, stay quiet, crawl into a hole, don't come out, and it all makes enough sense to quietly nod along. Her side is pressed against the cold metal of the car, her knees hurt even though they shouldn't, and Joel is so close that the heat radiating off of him in waves is like sunshine on her skin. Ellie is scared, terrified, but he is right next to her, and somehow that makes her fear meaningless.
"Look at me."
Joel's words cut through the rushing noise in her ears, and her gaze locks onto his face, clinging to the oddly familiar shade of brown and concern that leaves her aching. Outside of Riley, no one has ever given a shit about her, not like this, not ever, yet he looks at her like she is worth something.
"They're not gonna hit you," he breathes, knuckles white around his rifle, and there are about a dozen reasons why he is lying, why that statement is nothing but a hopeful prayer directed at a god that has long stopped listening.
Ellie nods regardless, absently realizing amidst the shots and shattering metal that she might be scared, but it is not for herself, not anymore.
"You stay down, you stay low, you stay quiet," Joel continues, unblinking, and there is something in his eyes that leaves her breathless. Everything inside of her is screaming to stay next to him, to not move unless someone grabs her and tears her away from him, but he is asking her to get herself somewhere safe, and if that means he'll be able to focus better and not get shot, she can swallow her rising panic.
"Okay?"
"Okay," she responds, finally realizing what he actually meant.
It's not an unheard prayer or foolish hope; it's a promise.
They're not gonna hit you because he will not let them, and she might not believe in god or fate, but she does believe in him. As the world threatens to rip whatever is left of her life out of her, Joel steps in front of her and keeps her safe.
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For as down in the dumps as Cene was feeling--and he was having a damn rough go of things waiting on his arm to heal--the one bright spot was Josh. It wasn’t even just Josh being by his side supporting him, though that was a huge part of it. It was also that Josh felt like a more solid part of his life now. He’d met Cene’s family and friends. Cene had met Josh’s best mates. Now that Oliver had met Josh too, there was one person left that Cene felt like he wanted to tell personally, rather than just letting him find out at Sunday quidditch. Which Cene had been avoiding since his injury, but Josh and his friends and family were probably right that he ought to start going. Spending time with them was always nice. Even if he couldn’t fly. Though he wished he’d waited to tell his mum he’d be there this week, because she’d obviously told other Tookers, who’d obviously told people at Puddlemere, and now it seemed like several of his teammates would be there. Which...they might as well find out now, if they reacted badly Cene wasn’t currently on the team anyways. But he wanted Jamie to hear it from him first, the same as Oliver had. Other than Oliver, Jamie was Cene’s closest friend on the team. More of a role model, maybe. But he was someone Cene trusted, someone he looked up to, and Cene felt like he owed it to Jamie to talk to him about this.
So the day before Sunday quidditch Cene sent Jamie an owl asking if he could drop by, and he was glad when Jamie got back to him quickly and told him to come on over. It was a surprise when he got to Jamie’s and saw Theo in the front yard, dressed in a pair of dirty jeans and a sweaty t-shirt, digging up some bushes. Huh. Cene knew Jamie and Theo were good mates, and now he thought about it Theo liked talking about plants and dirt and stuff. So maybe it wasn’t that odd to see Theo digging up Jamie’s yard. Still, the other bloke’s presence made Cene a little more nervous. He liked Theo a lot, was thrilled he’d stayed on with Puddlemere for another year, but if telling Jamie didn’t go well it meant there’d be someone else who probably wouldn’t take it well either, given that Jamie and Theo seemed like they were always on the same page.
But there was no turning back now. And what did Cene have to lose, really? For all he knew he might not even be back on Puddlemere. He pushed that dark thought aside--as much as he could ever put it aside--and called out a greeting to Theo, who turned and did an impressively good job of saying hi to him like things were normal and Cene hadn’t been out with an injury for a month questioning his entire future. All the blokes on the team had been great, showing up at the hospital, keeping in touch, but in some ways hearing from them hurt, a reminder of what Cene had lost. Still, seeing Theo would have been a pleasant surprise if not for his nerves about why he was here. It was a relief when Theo said Cene should go on in. “I’ll be finishing some stuff up out here, let you have Jamie to yourself for a bit.” Thank Helga for that. Maybe if things went sideways Cene could make a break for it before Theo found out what he was here to tell Jamie.
It was tempting to just make a break for it now and avoid this whole conversation, but Cene reminded himself that Jamie was great and there was a reason Cene wanted to tell him personally. He braced himself, waved to Theo, and then knocked at Jamie’s front door before letting himself in as Theo had instructed. “Hey, Jamie. Sorry, I didn’t know you had someone over. This could have waited.” Theo hadn’t seemed at all put out to see Cene, and Cene wasn’t actually even sure if Jamie had been hanging out with Theo in his yard or if Theo had just been out there himself, which was a little odd but maybe it worked out for them that Theo liked gardening and Jamie had gotten a house with a disaster of a yard. Still, an apology felt warranted; Cene hoped he wasn’t intruding on any plans Jamie and Theo had for the day.
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Timeloop au snippet
Lucien had always been quick, but in his own territory, rattled to the point of a constant knives edge since Feyre’s kidnapping, Tamlin was quicker. Snapping the door shut, wards of the house slamming down, containing them all in one place.
“Lucien.”
Nesta’s hand slid beneath his shirt, gesture hidden, aligned to the scarred skin of his back in silent apology.
“Tam,” Lucien swallowed. “I can explain.”
Flowers blooming in his eyes- a lord of becoming, a lord of mad folly, Lucien’s friend of centuries, torn apart trying to rescue the woman he loved from what he knew to be only one of the most feared creatures in Prythian.
Slowly, Tamlin sank back against the door, furious expression muddling into a muted horror.
Both palms pressed over his eyes, he said, in a gentle sort of voice Lucien had frankly forgotten he was even capable of. “You’re her sister. The one she wrote to.”
“Yes.” Steel in the word, but also- Nesta slid out from behind him in exaggerated human slowness, coming back onto her feet to raise her chin in what read, to faery eyes, as warning. “And I wrote back. Lucien answered.”
Unreadable, Tamlin dropped his hands to stare at her. “Did he?”
“Tam”-
“My sister loves you,” Nesta said, right over Lucien. “So much so we let her go again, because she could not bare a world where she had not tried to save you. I couldn’t reach out, not to you, not after all that happened to her. But I couldn’t stand not knowing if she was alright.”
With his real guilt, Lucien fell into his role.
“They deserved to know,” Lucien told him, quiet, unable to stop himself from smiling, just a little, at her unwavering expression.
Tamlin caught it. Of course he did- Lucien was an excellent liar, but he wasn’t even trying.
“And now,” he said, tipping his head between them, “You”-
“Yes.” Nesta said.
The High Lord of Spring heaved a sigh, scent of roses rising through the air. Tired, stricken- but then he smiled. “You cannot be blamed for that.”
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