#i am a sad lump on the couch because i can't wait for things to BEGIN

[torchickentacos]

girl help i've been hit with the twentysomething curse of wanting to move to a city where nobody knows my name and where I get to feel and see and be something new✌️

[chronicowboy]

can't do this anymore (do it anyway) | 2.6k

eddie starts dating again, buck doesn't want to be waiting on the couch forever, hen really wasn't expecting this conversation, and eddie may or may not eavesdrop. just a little.

Its not a big thing in the end.

Chimney asks Eddie how the date with Vanessa went over Bobby's minestrone and a loaf of Athena's sourdough, Eddie tells them about the date and subsequent talk with his aunt.

There's a joke about setting Eddie up with a single mom from Denny's school, or at least Buck hopes it was a joke, and then the bell rings.

Its not a big thing.

At all.

Except Buck can't stop thinking about it.

The little glint in Eddie's eye now he's realised that his life doesn't have to revolve around Chris and only Chris.

Buck hates himself for hating that glint.

But he thought—

He's not sure what he thought exactly.

That he had more time?

That Eddie would stay content with just a best friend at his side forever?

Maybe, however foolishly, Buck had thought that being Buck was enough for Eddie too.

But, like a coma dream, it all has to come crashing down around you at some point.

Which is why Buck finds himself hunched over on the couch at three-forty AM whilst everyone else is asleep in the bunk room.

Or so he thinks.

Its Hen's gentle footsteps that have him pulling his head out of his hands for the first time in—

Shit, has he been sat here for two hours?

"Hey, Buckaroo." She smiles at him, eyes scrutinising behind her glasses. "Want some tea?"

"Sure," he says, voice hoarser than he'd been expecting. Hen squints at him for a moment, and he knows with the utmost certainty that his tea will come with a dash of oat milk and a heaping spoon of sisterly interrogation.

He settles against the back of the couch, head tilted up towards the ceiling, and counts his breaths as the sounds of the kitchen soothe his hackles. If there was anyone he was going to talk to about this, it'd be Hen. He's sort of glad that she'd woken up and found him, taken the decision from his hands, because he's not sure he would have sought her out of his own volition.

Hen sits down on the coffee table in front of him, and he gives himself a beat to prepare before picking his head up and taking his mug from her hands.

"Couldn't sleep?" he asks.

"Woke up and couldn't stop thinking about Nathaniel." Hen shakes her head, something sad wrinkling the corners of her mouth. "Thought some tea might calm me."

"Mm," Buck hums, taking a sip of the scalding drink.

"What about you?" She tilts her head at him, kind eyes that kind of make Buck want to cry. "What is it keeping you up tonight? Lightning bolt? Ladder truck? Shooting?"

"None of the above actually." Buck huffs a half-hearted laugh, unwilling to examine the last option too closely.

"So, what is it?" she pushes, gentle as always.

"Vanessa," Buck mumbles into his tea.

"Van—" Hen frowns. "Eddie's date Vanessa?" Buck nods.

"Or whichever date comes next," he clarifies, unable to keep the bitterness from his voice.

"Oh," Hen breathes. She blinks, once, twice, three times, then so rapidly Buck wouldn't be able to count them if he could still do math.

"Hen?"

"Sorry, I just wasn't expecting this conversation." She blinks once more before mumbling, "always thought it'd be Eddie I spoke to first."

"What?"

"What?" Hen bats her eyelashes at him, a tight smile on her face. "What is it about Eddie dating that's making you look like a kicked puppy?"

He gets the sense that she already knows the answer, but the lump clogging his throat makes itself known at the prospect of having to answer. He sets his tea down with shaking hands before clasping them tightly in his lap.

"I don't think I can do it, Hen," he croaks, tears burning in his eyes. "I can't watch Christopher whenever he goes out on a date."

"You know you don't have to—"

"Of course, I do," he snaps. "Of course, I do. Because you were right, Hen. I'm not capable of being a father and walking away. So, Eddie will set up another date, and he'll ask me to babysit, and I'll say yes because I love that kid more than I love Eddie, but..." He breaks off here to clear his throat, only succeeds in lodging the lump more deeply in his throat. "But I'll be sitting on his couch, waiting for him to be early or late or right on time. And whenever he's not looking, I'll be looking for a wrongly buttoned shirt or a hair out of place or a faded lipstick mark—" The sob that claws its way to his mouth is ugly and painful, but he manages to swallow it back down before it can wake up the whole station. When Hen's hand lands on his knee, the tears roll down his cheeks and it becomes infinitely harder to catch the sobs before they can break free. "I can't do it."

"Then, don't," Hen says simply.

"Its not that easy, Hen."

"Have you considered telling him the truth?" She raises an inquisitive eyebrow, and Buck kind of wants to fall into his arms and become a little kid again.

"Its not that easy, Hen."

"Maybe," she hedges. "But Eddie hasn't even started dating yet, and you're already heartbroken. What's the worst that could happen?"

"I lose him completely," Buck bites out. "I can handle losing a part of Eddie. I can handle losing movie nights and lasagne four times a week. I can't handle losing all of him."

"Who says you'd lose all of him?"

"He doesn't feel the same way, Hen." He shakes his head, scrubs at his tear-straked cheeks.

"He doesn't know you're an option," she argues.

"Hen, I can't, okay? I just can't." He buries his face back in his hands. "If it was the other way round, you know, he'd be able to tell me. But I can't tell him."

"Why not?"

"Because if I tell him, I risk losing him and Christopher. If he tells me, he risks losing just me."

"There is nothing just about you, Buck," Hen says solemnly, leaning forward to cup his face and tilt his head towards her. "Especially not to Eddie."

"Hen—"

"And you know everything Eddie does is for Christopher. Have you considered that maybe he's not telling you because he's scared that both he and Chris, would lose you?"

"That's not true, though. He knows there's nothing that would keep me away from Chris."

"Does he?" Hen asks. "Because you don't seem to know that Eddie would do nothing to keep you away from Christopher."

"That's different."

"Is it?" Hen fixes him with a look, one where all her wisdom pools in her eyes and keeps you in place.

"I can't tell him, Hen." There's a finality to his words that shocks even him.

He makes his way up to the roof without looking back.

----------------

Its a long seven hours before he finds himself changing into his civies in the locker room, the torturous drag of Eddie's elbows against his as they unbutton their shirts. Normally, they'd be discussing plans for their days off, maybe splitting the chores to lighten the load. Today its stiflingly quiet. Buck wonders if its because he's normally the one to carry the conversation, or if Eddie knows something is wrong.

"Hey, uh, you free to watch Chris on Friday?"

Buck crouches down to slip his work shirt into his duffel and hide the grimace on his face.

"Always," Buck throws a grin over his shoulder. "What time?"

"Uh, seven?" Eddie says after a moment of hesitation. Buck tries not to read into it.

"Perfect, I'll see you then." He grabs his duffel and makes for the door.

"You know you don't have to, right?" Eddie's voice stops him on the threshold. Buck steads himself with a hand on the doorframe. "I could get Pepa to watch him, or Carla, or, hell, Hen owes me a favour."

"Eddie," Buck clears his voice of its wobble and plasters on a smile as he turns around, "I'm happy to do it. You know I love that kid like crazy."

"Yeah, I do." Eddie's face does something complicated at that, his voice so unbearably soft that Buck's heart feels like its been wrapped in barbed wire.

"Friday at seven." Buck winks at him and then he's gone, hoping he makes it to his Jeep before the tears fall.

----------------

Friday rolls around slowly.

Buck wallows in his loft for the first day, dodging texts from a sympathetic Hen and a suspicious Maddie. He only answers Eddie's, because he's pathetic and can't help lunging for his phone every time Eddie's name appears on his screen, but he manages to avoid initiating any conversations.

If Eddie notices, he doesn't mention it.

The second day he's on shift, suddenly much more difficult to hide from Hen's big eyes and Chimney's squinted ones. Even Bobby shoots him a few odd looks throughout the day. But Eddie stays mostly buried in his phone, texting someone with a tiny smile pulling at his lips. Buck has to resist the urge to stalk across the loft, rip the phone from his hands, and frisbee it right out of the bay doors.

The third day, the first twenty-four hours of their forty-eight off, Buck spends moping on his incredibly unyielding couch, all the while fantasising about rough blue fabric and the lump in the left couch cushion that's as familiar to him as his own hands.

The fourth day, Friday, has him waking up nauseous and pushing himself dangerously too far on a run for someone whose stomach only contains water. He forgoes lunch for a nap that only makes him feel worse, showers when his stomach complains at him with a rather loud growl. Then its just a few hours of focusing on the fact that he gets to see Christopher tonight.

Before he knows it, he's pulling on a soft blue tee and walking out the door.

The drive to the Diaz house stretches on forever, every tick of his blinker and honk of an angry Angelino sounding like a taunt, but he pulls into the driveway much too soon.

With a deep breath, Buck clambers out of the truck and walks up to the front door with the ridiculous notion that it feels like there's a gun digging into the small of his back. He doesn't bother knocking, not after quiet confessions over a half-packed lunchbox in the kitchen, and bursts through the door with a grin.

"Where's my favourite Diaz?" he calls out, toeing off his shoes and drifting towards the living room.

"At a sleepover," Eddie says gently, popping out from the kitchen with a stranger jittery energy clinging to him.

"Oh." Buck shuffles awkwardly. "Sorry, I thought—"

"I know I'm only second favourite," Eddie mumbles, a light flush to his cheeks as he looks up at Buck with those dangerous brown eyes of his, "but how about a night with this Diaz?"

"W-what about your, uh, date?" Buck asks, hoping the vicious curl of the word is only in his head.

"He just walked through the door," Eddie breathes.

Buck isn't proud of it, but he's not really sure there's any other way he was ever going to react to that. He freezes. Cartoonishly so. A full-on, full body freeze frame. Every muscle in his body goes taut with shock, his lungs still mid-breath, even his heart misses a beat or two in the pause.

He can't have heard it right. He can't have.

Except Eddie's staring at him with those unbelievably fond eyes of his, the rosy apples of his cheeks glowing in the dim lamplight.

Or its a joke. Yeah, a prank.

Except Eddie is chewing on the inside of his lip in the way he does when he actually is panicking, his hands flexing at his sides.

But Buck thinks hope is much more dangerous than a lightning bolt, so he doesn't let himself believe it.

"Ha-ha. You get cancelled on, Diaz?" Buck rolls his eyes and pushes past Eddie into the kitchen.

He freezes again.

The table is laid for two, a candle in the middle even though Eddie always blows out the tealights at restaurants, a bottle of wine left to breathe next to a tray of Buck's favourite enchiladas. The fancy napkins are folded into triangles on Eddie's chipped plates, Buck's favourite fork in the whole world resting on the tablecloth—the tablecloth—because apparently Eddie knows that Buck likes certain forks better than others. Eddie's shitty Bluetooth speaker is on the windowsill, the faint crooning of Hozier filling the room.

If just one drop of hope feels like a lightning bolt, this hope that rears to life in him now feels like a ladder truck.

Buck spins around to face a hesitantly hopeful Eddie. He looks smaller than he is suddenly, with a sheepish smile tucked into one cheek and his eyebrows high above those molten pools of brown, so full of love that Buck gets a little breathless with it.

"Eddie, what—"

"I heard you talking to Hen," Eddie says, not pausing in his explanation to give Buck time to worry that this is a prank because he knows Buck too well. "And she was right, Buck. I never knew you were an option." He tilts his head, tender eyes apologetic. "If I had have thought there was any way you could feel the same about me, I never would have gone on any date at all." He sighs, taking a careful step closer. "I thought I couldn't have you like this, so when Pepa suggested dating, I thought it might be a good way to move on. But I was fooling myself, Buck, because there's no moving on from the love of your life."

"Eddie." Buck opens his mouth on a thousand unknowable words before taking the two strides to wrap Eddie in a hug. "I love you," Buck breathes into his neck, eyes squeezed shut against the happy tears threatening to fall.

"I love you too," Eddie replies, wrapping his arms around Buck a little tighter than necessary. "I'm sorry."

"You broke my heart, Eddie."

"You broke mine first," Eddie whispers into his shoulder.

A pang of hurt in his chest has Buck pulling back to meet Eddie's eyes, arms still wrapped around his waist.

"When?"

"You died on me, Evan." Eddie sniffs, looks away for just a second before his eyes return to Buck with a longing that makes Buck want to do something truly insane. "You left."

"I came back."

"Three minutes was enough to break me in two," Eddie confesses, quiet and tender and overwhelming.

Buck thinks he's done quite well for lasting this long without jumping him, but he's no saint, so when he can't think of a reply to Eddie's heartbreak, he leans forward to steal it from his lips like he's ready to carry the weight of Eddie's heart as Atlas.

Its a dizzyingly gentle slide of lips at first, Buck afraid to shatter the illusion lest he be left holding the broken shards of his heart. But then Eddie's hand slide up from his shoulders, one to cup Buck's neck, the other to tangle in the curls he left loose after his shower, and something snaps in the miniscule atom of space between them. Eddie's mouth opens under his, and Buck readies himself to dive in when Eddie beats him to it, pulling an embarrassing noise from the bottom of Buck's lungs. Eddie pulls back with a wheezing gasp, dropping his forehead to Buck's as his chest heaves. Buck doesn't think he's ever seen anything quite as beautiful as kiss-rumpled Eddie Diaz trying to find his self control.

"Come on," Eddie murmurs against his lips, "let me wine and dine you, Buckley."

Neither of them makes any move to separate any time soon.

[banquetwriter]

this might be too angsty 😭

but can you do one where the reader has chronic anxiety and is literally house bound most of the time because of how bad it gets and johnnie just helps them through it

୨୧ brittle breathes ୨୧

pairing: Johnnie Guilbert ♡︎ Reader

warnings: ୭̥⋆*｡ panic attacks, extreme anxiety 

summary: ʚ reader’s chronic anxiety binds them to their house but Johnnie is able to save them ɞ

Words: 1452

An: sorry it's taking me so long to write i can't help it lol 

SUPPORT ME

Every day has felt the same to you. You wake up and immediately doom scroll on your phone. Your brain is hyper-fixating on every bad comment you receive. You eventually get off Twitter and turn on YouTube. The torment doesn't end there.

You turn on someone who has consistent uploads, better looking than you, and overall is just better at your job. You feel so sick. Constantly nausea, your hands and feet are freezing, and your brain seems like you mushed it into pieces. 

It had been weeks since you had last uploaded on your channel. It wasn't so bad at first. You felt less anxious at home so you just stayed in more. Unfortunately, it has its talons in you. You could never leave the house anymore.

You were sitting on the couch in sweatpants and a sweatshirt. You hadn't gotten ready in weeks either, posting the occasional post on your Instagram story of something random. 

It wasn't like your fans hadn't noticed, hell everyone in your life had noticed. Your boyfriend Johnnie had asked what was going on with you lately, and he saw it. Of course, he saw it. The light in your eyes slowly dimmed. 

The way you wouldn't do anything anymore. Your interest didn't excite you anymore, you never ate anymore, and the most worrying thing was you'd stopped hanging out with him. 

He knew how hard anxiety could be on a person and how he wanted to help but he also knew how fragile people can be in this head space.

You had dried tears staining your cheeks as you scrolled through Twitter. You were looking at any tweet with your name involved in it. You were just a sad little lump on the couch. It was pathetic really. 

Your heart jumped as a notification went through that Johnnie started a live stream on Twitch. You had forgotten he was going to stream tonight. You clicked on it saying hi in chat. 

“Ahh fuck my settings are all messed up hold on guys,” Johnnie mumbled moving closer to his screen and clicking around. You giggle watching his fans say hi to you in chat. “Alright sorry guys,” he says, sitting up and looking at the chat. 

“Wait, is y/n in chat? A bunch of people are saying hi,” he says looking at the chat zoom bye. You smile to yourself already feeling calmer just by listening to his voice. “Yes, I am ¯\_(ツ)_/¯” you type in the chat. You watch him read the chat and smile to himself. 

He hides his blush by putting his hand over his mouth. The whole interaction made you giggle. He was the only thing that ever made you feel good anymore. You knew that wasn't healthy but you couldn't help it. You texted a black heart emoji to Johnnie.

You sat and watched the stream for a bit longer at some point while Johnnie stopped for a second to respond to your text. ‘Love you nerd’ he said with a heart emoji as well. He smiled down at his phone before realizing he was still streaming and had to keep them entertained. 

He came to a slow point in his stream so he looked over at his chat. “Why isn't y/n posting?” he asked, reading a fan’s words. Your heart skipped a beat. “Um, they are just having a hard time right now. They will be back soon though don't worry,” he answers, it was a true statement.

It just stung that your fans were reaching out to him about you. Johnnie would never make you feel guilty about this of course he understood, it's just you felt like such a burden on him because of this. 

You snapped back into reality, Johnnie had continued his stream and the chat slowly moved on from the topic. You had to do something about this. It was consuming your life.

You swiped away from Twitch and pulled up your messages with Johnnie. ‘Can you come over after the stream?’ you asked. If you were going to get out of this you were going to need help to do it. You had the stream pulled back up again. 

Johnnie was looking down at your phone. ‘I will get an Uber right now.’ was a text Johnnie sent you. You sat up reading the message on the top of your screen. “Hey guys I'm actually going to have to end stream early,” he said looking up from his phone.

You watched the chat as they started to freak out at the sudden end. Well, this wasn't how you wanted things to go. “Everything is ok. I just realized I have something to do.” he murmurs closing all the tabs on his computer going to full screen.

You turn the stream off, your heart pounding. Guilt flooding your veins. You stood up only worsening your dizzy state. You fumbled into the kitchen grabbing a glass of water. You failed, however.

You never made it to the sink. Your brain is racing and your mind is melting. A panic attack flows over your bones and into your soul. Your phone is lost somewhere you don't remember. 

Your breath in rapid paces as you can't make anything out. The lack of oxygen fuels your state. Tears start to pool out of your eyes, you start to sob. The crying mixed with the rapid breath causes you to lose all the air you had.

You can't breathe anymore. Any semblance of being able to return to normal is gone. You fall onto your hands and knees scratching at your throat in immense panic. You try to scream or kick or anything that can save you. 

You don't even hear when Johnnie uses the key you gave him to enter your home. Finding you thrashing on your kitchen floor, tears falling from your eyes. “Y/n?” he yells dropping to the floor with you. 

“What's wrong?” he yells trying to see your face. He manages to grab the side of your face and hold it up. “Can't… breathe,” you mumble, your face starting to lose color. 

“You're ok,” he says looking at you. He isn't able to say it with much conviction. His words betrayed his face as it flooded with worry. You try and fail to return your breathing to normal. Johnnie sees you struggle. 

“Try and follow mine,” he says, unsure of how to help you. You nod your head trying to listen to his breathing. It wasn't any use if you couldn't hear him properly. You hold your hand on his chest, you can feel his exhale and inhale. You could feel his lungs fill with air. 

You tried your best to mimic him. Closing your eyes eventually works. Eventually, you feel your worry melt away, like snow when the weather warms up. It leaves and melts from your body.

Your body relaxes and the tension falls. Johnnie watches as you slowly return back to normal. He brings his hand up to your face and holds you close. You lean into his touch. Your body is slouching.

He wraps his arms around you, holding your body up. “Johnnie?” you ask quietly. The tiredness ebs its way into your body. “Yeah? I'm here. I'm here.” he says slowly. “I need your help. Or someone's I'm not sure. I don't think I can trust anyone else with this.” you whispered to him.

“What's wrong? What can I do?” he asks, moving the hair that fell into your face away. “I have been rotted away by anxiety. I can't leave my house, I can't eat, I cannot do anything anymore. I haven't posted in god knows how long.” you cry standing up and away from him.

He sits up to watch you pace through your apartment. “I can't eat or sleep or talk to anyone without my entire world collapsing. Which isn't helping, it's just making me more anxious.” you cry, pulling at the sides of your face in frustration. 

“What can I do? How can I help you?” he asks while walking up to you. You stop your pacing, before abruptly pulling him into a hug. “I need to start seeing a therapist or something else, I need you to help me,” you whispered into his ear. 

He pulls away, only a little, to see your face. “We can do that for you. I'm sure it's going to get better if you start slowly, ok?” he whispers back. You smile at him sweetly. 

It was going to be hard but little by little you were going to take your life back. You were going to be able to do it with Johnnie. 

[mimisempai]

Wait for me on the other side 6/8

Summary:

Mobius must face both his past and a brutal news. He opens his heart to Loki. Loki wonders about what connects them...

Notes:

Prepare some tissues...

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32948254/chapters/82394134

House on the cliff - 2019

Mobius returned home, patiently awaited by Croki. While he was feeding him, he noticed that he had a message on his answering machine.

"Mobius, pick up, I have something to tell you. It's about Ravonna."

Forty-five minutes after Casey's call, Mobius rushed into the hospital.

He headed to the admissions office and spoke to the first person who came in.

"Hello, I'm looking for Ravonna Renslayer. I'm Mr. Mobius."

"Hold on a moment."

The young woman consulted her computer and looked up.

"Yes. Mr. Mobius. You are expected in Doctor Cho's general medicine department."

She pointed in the right direction.

When he arrived at the ward, he asked for Dr. Cho.

He waited a few minutes and a woman approached him, holding out her hand.

"Hello Mr. Mobius, I am Dr. Cho, I am the one who takes care of Mrs. Renslayer. Since you were the person to notify in case of an emergency, we called you."

"What happened? Is she okay?"

Dr. Cho motioned for him to follow her, "She's fine. She had a relatively minor collapse, but we'll have to keep her for a day or two, wait for the results of the tests we did. Since you are her only family according to her file, even for something minor we had to call you. I'll take you to her room."

Casey was waiting outside Ravonna's room when Mobius arrived with Dr. Cho. They embraced.

"How is she?" Mobius asked.

"You know her..." replied Casey, shaking his head. "I had to bring her some work, the latest reports from the financial department."

Mobius looked disbelieving and laughed, "Of course. The last thing we would want to do is let a little collapse endanger the company."

Mobius entered the room quietly. Ravonna laid on her bed, connected to monitoring devices, reading her reports and making annotations, papers scattered around her on her bed. She didn't hear him right away, and when she raised her head, she lowered the report but didn't put it down.

"Hi.", Mobius whispered.

Ravonna did not smile, simply nodded and continued to work on her files as if Mobius were not there.

After a while, she said, "I don't need you."'

Mobius simply replied, "I'm going to stay until your exam results come in."

"That's not until tomorrow morning."

"I'm not going to drive all the way home that late. I'm staying."

Ravonna shrugged and returned to her reading. The silence was deafening.

After a moment, Mobius picked up one of the magazines about expensive watches that was on the table and asked, "Do you mind if I..."

Ravonna shook her head, "Go ahead. If you're still interested in that kind of thing."

Mobius didn't look up and began flipping through the magazine.

When he looked up about ten minutes later, Ravonna was asleep. Mobius watched her breathe in the dimly lit room, the monitoring devices flashing silently. He picked up the papers scattered on the bed and stacked them neatly on the nightstand.

Then he sat down, trying to find a comfortable position to sleep in the hospital room chair. Since this was impossible, he picked up a piece of paper and began to write to Loki.

I know I haven't written in a while.

But I need to... I wanted to tell you about someone who is very close to me. We are not related by blood, but I consider her to be family to me, like a big sister.

We grew up together in the orphanage.

She is well-known. You know her work... Ravonna Renslayer, the CEO of Time Keepers, the famous watch brand.

I always liked to put watches together and take them apart and Ravonna was good at putting things in the right light.

We decided to create Timekeepers when we were fourteen years old. We wanted to sell quality luxury watches that everyone could afford.

A dream of two orphans.

We promised ourselves that when we would be rich we would buy the house on the hill.

But Ravonna lost sight of our dreams and always wanted more. More money, more fame.

Mass production, overpriced watches, I had no pleasure in creating anymore.

Every meeting became a war zone.

Someone had to surrender. I did.  I quit. Without notice.

That's when I started Miss Minutes, my little store and got back to my roots.

Mobius must have fallen asleep because when he opened his eyes, he was aching from his position in the chair.

Seeing that Ravonna was still asleep, he went to the hospital cafeteria to get a cup of coffee, and when he came back up fifteen minutes later, he saw Dr. Cho.

"Ah, Mr. Mobius, we just reviewed her results with Mrs. Renslayer. Unfortunately, she has forbidden me to talk to you about them and does not want you to visit her anymore."

Mobius was hurt of course, but not surprised either, given their tense relationship.

Dr. Cho, however, took pity on him. "I can't go into detail, but regrettably, you'll have to prepare for the worst."

Mobius' heart leapt in his chest and with a tight throat, he asked, "How long?"

Dr; Cho put her hand on his shoulder and said, " At any moment. I'm sorry."

Mobius left the hospital in a daze and drove to the house on the cliff. As soon as he arrived, he fed Croki, sat down in his chair and continued the letter to Loki. At this time, it was his only source of comfort.

Loki's apartment - 2021

Loki, in casual attire with Croki by his side, was sitting on his couch reading the letter from Mobius. He was very moved by the way Mobius opened up to him.

His heart cried at the sadness he felt in the letter. Obviously Ravonna was someone dear to his heart.

Once again, Loki was frustrated by the barrier of years between them. He wanted so much to be with Mobius, to support him. He sighed as he continued to read the letter.

I don't know what I expected.

Part of me thought that given her condition, I would get more than a "She doesn't want to see you anymore."

But of course, that's not how things work. When I left TK, I rejected everything she stood for.

That's how she saw it.

I think the fact that I bought the house cemented our disagreement for her and it's too late to change things now.

One thing is for sure: if I was really hoping for a tearful little bedside meeting, I'm as stupid as she thinks I am.

Well, good. I seem to have poured my little heart out here. I'm sorry.

Thanks for reading.

I want to tell you things I've never told anyone.

Things I didn't know myself until I wrote them down to send to you.

Maybe that's the strangest part of it all.

Love, Mobius.

Loki lingered on this letter, and especially on the last word, "LOVE". He patted Croki's head, thoughtful.

He had so many questions.

Love, Mobius.

Was it casual? Mobius was the kind of person who knew exactly what he was saying. Every word was important.

So the next question was, did Loki feel the same way?

Loki didn't need to reflect, he knew what he felt.

The question that remained was, did they have a future...?

Mobius' house - 2019

Croki trotted over to Mobius' bed. Mobius was lying down, unable to sleep, but it was too early to get up. He felt like picking up the phone but resisted.

Loki's apartment - 2021

Loki couldn't sleep anymore, something was disturbing him since he had read Mobius' letter.

He got up and went to his computer, he had to check one thing about Ravonna Renslayer.

Two minutes later he rushed out of his apartment and drove to the house on the cliff.

Mobius House - 2019

Mobius après s’être préparé pour aller au travail, sortit de sa maison et se dirigea vers son pickup.

Mobius House - 2021

Loki braked hard and ran to the mailbox. He put a piece of paper in it and raised the flag with a sudden movement.

Mobius House - 2019

Mobius drove away from the house without seeing the flag that was rising behind him. A few minutes later, his phone on the passenger seat began to ring.

Glancing down, he saw that it was Dr. Cho.

He pulled over to the side of the road and with a lump in his throat, took the call.

"Yes?"

-Mr. Mobius, this is Dr. Cho. I'm afraid I have some difficult news for you.

A few minutes later, in a daze, he parked in front of his house. On his way to his house. He saw that the flag was up.

He opened it, took the note, read it and then let his arm fall back, the paper flew away before landing further.

You need to go back to the hospital right away! Ravonna Renslayer died on-

A few days later, Mobius sat in the back of the church while the pastor preached to a crowd that Mobius knew was there more for Ravonna's fame than for their connection to her.

He didn't listen to the sermon and, clutching Loki's last letter in his pocket, he thought about what he had written.

Mobius, I'm so sorry about Ravonna.

Even though every pain is different, I know what it's like to lose the little family we have left.

I knew I had to at least try to warn you. I thought I could do it in time.

I hoped we could change what happened. I was wrong.

I guess these things can't be changed.

What I do know is that the shock is still fresh for me, even though it happened two years ago, so I can't imagine what it's like for you.

These things just happen...sometimes. I know.

Last February, I remember it was Valentine's Day, but it was really hot for a day in February.

I was at the fountain in Valhalheim Square.

And something happened. I won't bore you with the details now, but it was hard. Not like what you're going through, but it bothered me a lot.

And a friend gave me some good advice.

She told me to go to a place that would bring me peace.

That's what I did. I drove to the house on the cliff.

And that was the day I got your first letter.

It's a place we both love, a place that has a huge meaning for both of us, I hope you can find some solace there.

And I hope that what has kept you and Ravonna apart will eventually seem less important, and perhaps, in time, disappear.

YOURS, Loki.

Loki's words echoing in his head, Mobius was anxious to get to the house, to seek and perhaps find the solace that Loki spoke of.

When he arrived, he saw the flag raised. He opened the box, and took out not a note, but a book.

When he turned it over, his heart stopped for a moment.

For all times - Always by R.RENSLAYER

He returned home and sitting down in his chair, he opened it and saw first a small note from Loki's hand.

The book won't be published for a year.

or two, so don't show it to anyone. But I thought you should see it.

He turned the first page and could not stop the tears from flowing.

To Mobius

This is the story of a dream.

The story of a brother and sister bound by an ideal

But like all true stories, it doesn't always end well.

They chose a different path.

They drifted apart and never found each other again.

But without the presence of one in the life of the other, neither of them would have become what they are.

A story of two lives, a story of two successes, a story of two paths.

Underneath was a photo, Ravonna and him in front of the house on the cliff.

He continued to flip through the book, his eyes blurry with tears, and felt as if he was going through pieces of his life.

Pictures of TK's creation, of Mobius' workshop, of their first offices.

The day of the first opening.

Then the various collections of watches over the years, from the first one designed by Mobius to the latest luxury watches. Created after his departure.

Pictures of the rise of TK.

Photos taken after Mobius' time.

Until the last photo.

It was the front of Miss Minutes, of his shop.

A single sentence underneath.

We have taken different paths, our views have drifted apart, but you will always be my brother. For All time. Always.

Mobius wept for a long time over Ravonna, over the lost years, over what could have been. Then when the tears had dried, he closed the book and placed it neatly on the shelf. His hand lingered on the title for a moment.

Then, looking determined, he took his old sketchbook, sat outside the house and began to draw.

Loki's apartment - 2021

Loki, looking bewildered, was contemplating a sketch of the house on the hill.

At the bottom of the house, written in charcoal, it read:

I WANT TO MEET YOU!

FOR REAL THIS TIME!

_______

As a reader, I hate cliffhangers... I apologize in advance for being so cruel, I hope you will forgive me 😭

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 (End)

[hsj-scenarios]

heyo, lately i've been suffering awful depressions that cause me insomnia and tiredness at once. i always feel the need to cry and i am just so tired of everything ... mostly depressed because of my looks. sometimes it just happens to me that i just skip school or try to avoid going outside or i hide my face in public places.. is there something you could write about best? something like helping their girlfriends deal with this.. i don't know i can't write prompts or anything.. hahaha sorry

Title: He just held you closer. Pairing/Relationship: All members x ReaderRating: GWarnings: Depression, self-image issuesGenre: Hurt/ComfortType: Oneshot 

Dearest Nonnie-chan–I FEEL YOU. We are together on a deeply spiritual level here–not even joking! I am so sorry you struggle with these feelings. I wanted to send you encouragement through this story. I hope you feel my love through the words, and I hope you know that I really do believe this. Every word, everything I wrote–I believe our boys would be this way.

Love you always and forever!!! 

Mod J

Please note:

I wrote this story a little differently than normal. I intended to write a story for each of the members, however, as I wrote it, I realized there REALLY were only a few parts of the story that would be different for each member. I wrote the story to fit ALL of the members because I sincerely think it does! After the story, I provide headcanons for what I think would be unique to each member in this situation. 

BONUS:

I did the members of 7 as well! MMMWAH!

The knock was becoming louder and you couldn’t seem to lift your head off the couch. You heard the key slip into the lock, and pushed your face into the pillow, because you certainly didn’t want to see anyone today, but you most certainly did not want to see him today.

You heard the door open, his whispered voice as he didn’t want to step inside and scare you, “Baby? You here?”

“No,” you called out, pulling the blankets over your head and feeling a deep pain roll across you that he was in the room with you. You felt your eyes sting with tears, taking a shuddering breath as you drew up into yourself, curling into a ball.

He moved into the room, the door clicking closed behind him, and part of you wished, or perhaps thought it would be right, that he would just leave, just go and leave you alone. You didn’t want to make him sad, you didn’t want to make anyone sad–you just needed to be still and not try to interact because you just weren’t humaning very good these days.

You heard him shuffle over to the couch, making noise so he wouldn’t startle you. You could see through the knit blanket the way he approached you. Slowly, cautiously, like he was walking toward a caged animal–and you understood, because he had never been around you when you experienced one of your episodes.

It had been something you’d managed to avoid–with his hectic schedule and your own methods of covering up and distractions–but this time, he wouldn’t let your normal excuses fly. This time, you were fairly certain at least, he had been clued into your condition by your mother. You would have words with her later about the level of her treachery, you had bigger things to deal with at the moment.

He moved to you, sitting down on his knees by where he was guessing your head was, and you blinked back tears as you saw the concern on his face, the way he frowned, and his eyes were shaded with worry and a tinge of fear.

I am the worst person ever to make him suffer like this. I should never have given him the key. What was I thinking?

You were thinking no one else lived close to you in case there was an emergency.

I guess–but I didn’t ever want to make him hurt–look at what I am doing to him, he’s so sad and hurt and I did that–you did that!

Don’t worry, he’ll see you like this and that will be that, won’t it?

Yes, I guess that’s true, he’ll leave me for sure once he realizes how messed up and fragile and stupid I am.

Probably.

Definitely.

That’s the least of what you deserve! Honestly, I have no idea what he ever saw in me in the first place–maybe it was just being charitable because he’s such a nice guy–and you’ve been waiting to mess this up all along because it never fit. 

You never fit with him. He’s an idol for goodness sake, he’s beautiful and perfect and has the best personality and I am like a rock, a lump of ugly next to him. 

You never deserved him. Not for a second. He should be with someone who equals him.

Nope, never deserved him. I don’t deserve anyone or anything ever at…

Your self castigation was interrupted when you heard him take a deep breath, leaning forward, his hand moving to lay on your shoulder, his fingers flexing softly as he shifted, his voice soft, “Hey…”

You didn’t try to speak, you hadn’t spoken out loud in days, you weren’t even sure that you remembered what your own voice sounded like at this point, so you just hummed, but it was a sad sound, a sound meant to cast him off, push him away, but he didn’t move, he just blinked, and then he shifted closer.

And then, he was covering you, his entire upper body was pressing against you, his arms wrapping around you to hold you against his chest, his head buried against your neck and your entire body stiffened, you held your breath, every system seeming to lock up.

You groaned, it felt like your bones were going to snap, it felt like the weight of him was going to break you into pieces, and he turned his head, his mouth near your ear and his words were soft, “It’s okay. I’m here. You’re not alone.”

Your eyes clenched shut and you couldn’t breath, and yet, his words continued, “I’m sorry I wasn’t here earlier. I was working, but I sent you so many messages, and you didn’t answer. I was scared.”

He took a deep breath, “I called your Mom. I know that’s not cool. I know…I’m sorry. I was just…so worried.”

You shifted, turning your face away from him, as if he could actually see you, even though he couldn’t.

“I called…so many times…I was…I was just so scared.”

I’m a horrible person. I know he was messaging me and I just ignored them all. 

You want him to go, you want him to leave you.

I never deserved him.

You felt the tears fall, and you couldn’t breath, you didn’t want to, didn’t want to do this, didn’t want to let him see you cry.

“I love you.”

NO!

You pushed him, you reached out and shoved him, and he just moved closer, grabbed you harder, squeezed you tighter.

“I love you.”

Stop it!

You growled, the tears uncontrollable, and you shoved him again, trying to push him away, trying to make him go. He held onto you like his life depended on it.

“I love you!”

You won’t, not if you know!

“Shut up!” your voice was hoarse and rough, you shifted, pushing harder, twisting to get your feet up, and then he pulled back and he jerked the blanket down off your face and you squealed, grabbing a pillow and covering yourself, “Don’t look at me!”

He held you still, his hand coming up to cup your head, drawing you into his chest, holding you as your body shook with emotion, a broken sob escaping as you tried to gather your strength.

“It’s okay, stop trying to hide from me.”

“I-I…you need to go!” You pushed at him, but it was weak, it was a feeble attempt because there was a part of you that was comforted, finding some measure of solace there in his embrace.

You don’t deserve such things! Push him away, make him leave!

You pushed him again, crying harder. 

“Don’t hide from me,” he repeated the words, “I love you. I am not leaving, so stop pushing me away.”

You will leave, when you know the truth! You’ll leave.

“Go!”

His hand moved, stroking your hair, your body shaking as your tears increased, and he didn’t tell you to stop, didn’t try to calm you down.

“Please, just go!”

He just held you closer. 

His voice was soft, laced with feelings, “I want to share something with you…”

You couldn’t stop crying to acknowledge him, but he continued, “I don’t think I ever told you how it was growing up as a Johnny…did I?”

He didn’t wait for you to answer, his voice soft as he continued, “I didn’t exactly fit in. I felt really self conscious about myself. I mean, that’s bound to happen when you’re surrounded by beautiful people I guess…”

You wanted to laugh, wanted to slap him because honestly, how could he be so stupid. He was beautiful, more beautiful than any of them. How could he see himself so wrong, so unclear. 

“Not just about my looks either. I mean I wondered at my ability to sing, because you know that’s pretty terrifying. I wondered if I could dance? Could I be poised? Could I do this? I watched others, and I continually thought that I wasn’t as gifted of a performer or dancer. When I first started, I was kind of lost. I was really lucky to be surrounded by others who helped me, but it didn’t really make me feel any different about myself because when I saw myself, I just still saw a distorted, terrified version of me.”

He sighed, and you took a deep breath, trying to understand what he was saying.

“I mean, I felt this way for a really long time. I was glad to be a Johnny, of course, but there were struggles. It’s a very superficial environment, and it’s easy to get caught up in weird ideas of success and fame and popularity,”

“Sometimes, I was really glad to have people focus their attention on others and not me. But, I mean, that’s stupid, right?”

He laughed but it lacked real humor, “I mean I wanted to be an idol! If you don’t want people to look at you, then you’ve clearly picked the wrong career, but I wanted it. I really did. So, it was all very confusing.”

He squeezed you softly, “I mean…I liked the attention. I liked when people appreciated me, and when they cared, and I started to get fan letters and things–and when fans would cheer, or hold up an uchiwa with my name on it. There’s not a feeling that matches it.”

“But this fear continued to be a part of me–this feeling that I wasn’t all of the things that everyone else was. Someone was always better, always taller or shorter or more athletic, funnier, quieter, sang better, danced better, handled things better, was more popular, more outgoing, more talented. I felt like I was nothing compared to them.”

You pulled back, trying to look at him, hurt by the things he was revealing, your tears heavy, your breath jagged, one word slipping through your lips, “Lies.”

He smiled, it was sad smile, “I believed I was nothing compared to them.”

You shook your head, “Stop, please…”

“I wouldn’t lie to you,” he murmured, leaning forward to kiss your forehead, and then resting it against your own, “I still struggle with those feelings sometimes.”

“W-why?” You couldn’t wrap your mind around it. He was so beautiful, his personality was amazing, and he was such a fun person, so full of light and happiness and child-like joy–how could he see himself as anything other than the amazing guy he is?

He shrugged, “I’m human. It happens.”

You stared at him, your breath caught in your chest as the words settled over you.

“Do you understand?” His hand brushed through your hair, a tentative smile crossing his lips, “You’re human, too. It’s okay to be human. That’s what we have to remember.”

You struggled with the thought, with the understanding, not able to come to terms with it.

“I love you,” he whispered, and you laughed, a broken sob escaping as you shook your head.

“I really do love you,” he spoke the words louder, “It’s okay to be sad, it’s okay to struggle, it’s okay to see yourself in a way that is contrary to how others see you.”

“You shouldn’t…”

“I shouldn’t what?”

“Love me.”

“I can’t help it, I love you, it’s a fixed point in my life,” he leaned back from you, forcing you to look into his eyes, “I’m not leaving you, I love you.”

“But why!?” 

The words came out as a deep mournful plea, and you tried to push him away again, your agitation flaring up, and he grabbed your face in both of his hands, not letting you look away, not letting you hide from him, his words firm and concise, “Because you are YOU!”

“I’m nothing! I’m nothing at all, it is crazy for you to love me!”

He shook his head, his thumbs stroking your cheeks as a fresh wave of tears fell, “I’m crazy in love with you, that’s all…you’re perfect, I love every single thing about you.”

He leaned forward, rubbing his nose against your own, “Your eyes are so beautiful, they shine, they radiate joy and happiness and love, I see it in your eyes, and it takes my breath away.”

“Your hair is so soft and silky and smooth, and it shines so bright, when the sun hits it sometimes it seems like it’s got strands of gold in it.”

“Your cheeks are so sweet, they flare bright red when I look at you too long, or when I tell you these things.”

He laughed when your cheeks grew hot under his hands, “Your lips are so soft, so squishy, it’s the reason I can’t stop kissing them!”

You laughed despite yourself, and he smiled, “I could go from head to toe and tell you all of the things I love about you, about your body, about your face, about every facet of you–but it’s not just that, it’s not just how you look, despite me thinking you are the most breathtaking work of art in all of creation–no, it’s more than that…”

You tried to believe him, wanted to believe him, but it was hard to imagine that these words were true, not when you felt the way you were feeling, but he held you still, wouldn’t let you shy away from him, “I love everything about you. I love the way you smile, I love the way you speak your words with such conviction. The way you put your shoes on and tie them. The common, every day things that I notice about you. I love all of those aspects of you. I love how you see the world and how you help others see it.”

He stared at you for a moment, and then he kissed you softly, “You are who you are because you struggle with these feelings. You wouldn’t be you without the pain. I see the truth in you through my own life–these times of darkness are exactly why you shine so brightly the rest of the time.”

You considered this, considered his thoughts, his words, and tilted your head in wonder.

“You are you because you struggle with depression, because you see yourself the way you do,” he kissed you again, drawing back slowly, “…and that’s okay, I wouldn’t tell you to change it, not at all, what I would tell you to do is to listen to what other people say, not just your own voice. It’s easy to think of others as just saying things to be polite, to be nice–but honestly, our world isn’t that good, people aren’t that good.”

You both laughed at that thought, because he wasn’t wrong.

“You also need to believe me.”

You blinked, nodding your head, knowing it was true, knowing that it would probably be the thing you struggled with the most.

“I won’t ever lie to you, not about anything, and most certainly, I wouldn’t lie or mislead you about how much I love you, how much I adore you.”

You pulled him forward into a hug, your arms trembling as you held him, your voice weak, “It’s not simple. I’m not simple. I can’t just turn this off.”

“I know,” he turned his head to kiss the side of your head, “It’s okay, I’m not in a hurry–and I am not leaving, I’m not walking away, I want to be here. I want to take care of you.”

You tilted your head down, burying your face into his neck, humming softly.

“Let me take care of you,” he whispered, “Please.”

“O-okay,” you squeezed him tightly, “but…that might mean some days are like this…and I won’t want you to touch me or talk to me…I mean…the worst days…they are like that…”

“I will just bring you ice cream, and sit on the other side of the couch while we watch your favorite movies,” you could tell he was smiling, “Maybe you’d let me rub your feet, or something at some point.”

“Maybe,” you sighed.

“You won’t have to talk, you won’t have to do anything, and if you want to cry, you can–and if you do want to talk, we can talk all day, all night–and if you want to yell, I’ll let you, if you want to hit things, I’ll hold the pillow–there’s only one thing I won’t let you do.”

You pulled back, your hands wrapping around his neck, into his hair, “What?”

“Believe the lies.”

You tilted your head, taking in the sincerity of his expression, the way love flowed so clearly from his eyes, and you couldn’t help it. Somehow you knew in your heart that all of his words were truth–that he meant what he was saying, and that the words you kept saying to yourself were horrible lies. It was a moment of clarity.

“I will need reminding,” you admitted, cautiously, never having told anyone other than your mom about these feelings, about these thoughts.

“I’ll remind you as many times as you need.”

He leaned forward, kissing you gently, his lips soft and tender on your own, and then he drew back, the smallest amount, his hands holding you close, “I will always be here to remind you.”

You smiled, pulling him back into you, your mind trying to wrap around the way his words were threading through your heart, realizing that he really meant what he was saying. 

He would always be there to remind you.

I can live with that.

Headcanons

Kei:

Kei would reference to a lot of his insecurities of not being as strong in some areas as others. I think he would have liked to be in the back a lot of times. He loved his job, and he loved his group. He would feel like the reason he wasn’t as popular as the others would be because of how he looked mostly. As he grew up, he realized that it was okay to go at your own pace, to find your strengths and admit your weaknesses and ask for help. I think he is a learner, and would watch others to learn how to handle himself.

He would be super squishy, he’d hold you and touch you and want to even just have a pinkie finger on you if he could. He would respect your boundaries when they revealed themselves, but that would just make him all the more clingy and needy when you were back to normal again. He would have a REALLY hard time on days you didn’t want him to touch you admittedly. He’d be fine with you staying in, he’d let you heal at your own pace. 

Kota: 

He would most certainly reference his height and weight, something others might admire, he felt like it often made him stand out in a negative way. That was particularly hard on him when the younger “chibi” idols got so much attention. He knew he had power in his voice, but he would lack confidence in his appearance. As he grew up, he came to appreciate his appearance and height as something that made him stand out instead of blending in–actually embracing it and finding value in it.

He would be very soft and his voice would be nearly child-like. He would want a lot of direct eye contact, and he would also pay attention to other details like what you were eating. He would be very observant, hoping to catch you before you drifted into a dark place. He would be super attentive, and while he wouldn’t let you stay inside all the time, he would only take you to places he knew would not overwhelm you.

Daiki:

He would be all about his height, all about being so short, about being called chibi and about how everyone around him grew to look like men but he just stayed the same, ever a 16 year old version of himself. Of course, as an adult, he values this much differently than he did when he was growing up, but it would most certainly be something that he would have struggled with and sometimes no doubt still does. It would be healing for both of you to talk this through. He would also realized that he needed to pay attention to things. That is also a positive thing.

He would literally crawl onto the couch with you, curl up behind you, and hold you for as long as you’d let him. He’d feed you when you didn’t want to eat, and he’d come up with elaborate disguises for you when you didn’t want to be seen in public but he’d insist that you get out of the house now and again. He would also continue to talk to your mom about this, though he would not lie or mislead you about it.

Hikaru: 

He would not have been super concerned about thing until he reached his teenage years, and then he would have been very self-conscious about his teeth despite always saying it was one of his “charm” points. He would have also felt a little bit of embarrassment that he didn’t grow up in the same environment it seemed like others did and he often felt stupid or undervalued because of it. As he grew up, he realized that it was the things that made him different that made him a good idol. He also realized, as he observed others, that EVERYONE deals with their own insecurities, and it was nice to share those with trusted friends now and again.

He would literally pick you up and hold you in his arms like a child. He would flutter soft kisses and he would give you plenty of time to talk. He would bring you stupid gifts and stuffed animals and things to make you laugh. He would send you video chats when he couldn’t be there, and he would ask you every day to tell him how you were feeling. He would double, triple, quadruple his words, wanting to fill up your mind with good thoughts and emotions about yourself to outweigh the negative. He would also encourage you to do yoga and such, and research natural supplements that might help you heal.

Yuya:

Yuya absolutely had very few issues with his physical appearance, but he struggled in a major way with the way he viewed the world, and his place in it. Despite wanting to be an idol, he often felt like his heart wasn’t in it, something that set him apart in a negative way from the other idols who seemed to be all in all of the time. He would have went back and forth with his value as an entertainer, as a member of Jump, and thought about quitting�� A LOT. As he grew up, he realized that there are stages of life, and while he’s young it’s good to take hold of the things that you can do while you’re young–and that there will be time for all of the adventures he could find.

He would force you back so he could hold you closely right there on the couch. Moving forward he would write you a note every day, and he would insist that you write him back, no matter how busy you two were. He would pay close attention to you and your habits, making note of what you were eating, how much you were exercising an such to see if any of those things were effecting your mood. He would be ridiculously patient, and would never force you out of the house.

BONUS: 7

Keito:

No one could have struggled with more insecurities than this precious soul. He would reveal them all, he’d spend three or four days telling you every single thought he’d ever had, and he would cry with you, he’d sob and hold you and between the two of you eventually you’d both agree that you both needed to fix the way you viewed yourselves and you also would promise to remind one another daily as he still struggles sometimes with this very issue.

He would not mind if you only left your house to come to his. He would, at least for a time, want to be with you 24/7 and would be as long as he could. He would bring you magazines and books to read, and he would also engage you into shows and programs he enjoyed. More than anything he would share his extensive love for music by sending you a new song every single day to cheer you up.

Yuri:

He would of course reveal the undeniable truth that he struggles with insecurities and fears even though he always presents himself as the opposite. He would tell you how self-conscious he is, how he doesn’t want to be near people and it makes him incredibly worried. How he works himself into a frenzy of anticipation and fear when he has to do anything without another member of Jump with him. How he feel so awkward and uncomfortable on sets of shows and programs and interviews and how the only thing that calms him down now that he’s grown up is YOU.

He would drag you out of the house, not forcing you around a lot of people but taking you to the park, to the zoo, to the beach. He’d tell you sunshine and movement would help you. He’d plan picnics in the spring, and he’d take you ice skating in the winter. He’d be very affectionate, and most of the healing that would happen between the two of you would be literal silence.

Yuto:

Oh gosh, let’s be honest, he’s got his own encyclopedia of issues without a doubt, all of which he would reveal to you very openly, honestly, and freely. He’d be very proactive in helping you, researching and studying all aspects of depression and determining ways that he could help you. He would be very attentive to you, but he also would refuse to become a crutch. He’d want you to stand on your own two feet, and so he’d be very careful with how he handled your emotions so that your healing would come from inside you and not from him. It’s not a bad thing, it’s just different than most.

He would be very soft to you, his words and manners would be very gentle, but at the same time, he’d have times where he’d just stare at you like you were crazy and tell you to snap out of it. Not in a mean or degrading or negative way, but just in the way of saying “I’m right here, I’m listening, stop feeling like you’re alone!”

Ryosuke:

Ah, our Ace, the boy who seems to have it all. He struggles with enough insecurities and self-hatred for the entire world. He would readily admit to you all of his flaws, and once he’d had you furious with how stupid he was to see himself so clearly, he would quite literally point at you and say “Pot meet Kettle!”* The two of you would be committed to saying one thing you liked about yourselves to the other every day, and if either of you said something negative about yourself then you’d have to say three things that you loved about yourself, no exceptions. He would write notes to you of encouragement, and would send you cute things all the time as a surprise, but all of them would always be related to something you’d discussed in one way or another. He would always include a note explaining how the gift applied to the topic. 

Lord, he would be like a human blanket 24/7. He would be very affectionate. At the same time, on the days when you didn’t want to be touched, he would have deep respect for that, and settle for feeding you your favorite foods or treats that he made for you. He would constantly be coming up with new ways to make you smile, new ways to make sure you knew how much he loves you, and more than anything, he’d be very proactive in helping you find hobbies, activities, and such that would promote a happy, whole feeling in you. He would also encourage you to go to counseling, AND to take meds if necessary. He would remind you daily if you’ve taken them, and he would drive you to your appointments. He would be careful to not push you, but he would also be very clear that your well-being is intricately entwined with his own, and when you don’t take care of you, it hurts him. You would obviously be more than clear that this was a two-way street.

*I realize this might be an American idiom which others may not understand. The meaning of the phrase is said to have come from lots of sources, but the one I trust the most is from an early issue of St. Nicholas Magazine from 1876:

"Oho!" said the pot to the kettle;"You are dirty and ugly and black!Sure no one would think you were metal,Except when you're given a crack."

"Not so! not so!" kettle said to the pot;"'Tis your own dirty image you see;For I am so clean – without blemish or blot –That your blackness is mirrored in me.

It is literally referring to the fact that the person who is pointing out the reason others were wrong or broken in their way of thinking is just as guilty of the same flawed thought process.

[texasthegreatdestroyer]

One Heart, Two Souls.

Chapter 1, Part 2.

“You knew my husband, didn't you?”

“Yes, we were good friends.”

“So you too know my sadness, how much I miss him so?

“...Yes.”

The silence was brief between us. I was so sick of it, who would've thought it would have been a good thing if it continued on? Her hands started shaking. I thought she might be crying, but she looked to me, there were no tears upon her. I was wrong, it was the exact opposite. She giggled before she spoke. No wife currently grieving over a dead spouse giggles.

“You've seen me naked, haven't you?”

She moved closer to me and put her hand on me in a romantic gesture.

“What was your name, sir?”

“A-Auron.”

I was extremely flustered by her advances on me.

“Tell me Auron, did you like what you saw?”

“Where are you going with this?”

“I'm grieving, you're grieving, it wouldn't be wrong if we sought comfort from each

other.”

She leaned in to kiss me, but I pulled away.

“I'm sorry, but I can't! You're Jecht's wife dammit! I can't do that to him!”

It was clear she was desperate to fill the void in her heart where her husband's love should be. She moved herself into my lap.

“Please? You're my only salvation. Only you can save me from myself. Misery enjoys company, you know? Besides, I'll make it worth your while. I'll suck your-”

That was it, I didn't even hesitate to get up. Unfortunately, I said something I shouldn't have out of discomfort

How many men have you said that to!-”

I wanted to end the sentence with, “Whore”, but I didn't get a chance to, as I fell backwards. I had slipped on something and hit my head against the wall. My head was bleeding.

Lucky for me though, seeing that, she discarded the comment. She tried to help me, but she was too weak.

I eventually got up on my own. She looked at me real solemnly.

“I'm really sorry.”

Her voice was small and shaky. I played it nice, looked up at her and gave her a hint of a smile. I was preparing to leave as I was probably unwanted at this point.

“I should be going, but I’ll be back in the morning to discuss Jecht's will with you… you should probably get some rest.”

“Yes, thank you for your help today.”

I nodded my head at her.

“You have a good night ma’am.”

“You too.”

I was getting prepared to leave, when I saw Tidus sitting by the door, reading his book.

I bent down and put out my hand to shake it.

“I'm Auron by the way, nice to meet you Tidus.”

The boy looked up at me with discontent, then went back to reading his book.

“Good night.” I had said before walking out the door. He said nothing back. With a quick sigh, I walked out being confident that my place there was finalized. Unwelcome I was. Not like I really was wanted from the start.

I walked all through Zanarkand a good part of the night. I didn't really have anywhere to go. Besides, I had a lot on my mind. I was disgusted with myself. I led Jecht's wife on. It wasn't intentional, but it did happen. Why erupts she do that to him? How could she. It was pretty close to morning when I found a spot in an alleyway to crash out in.

I wanted to sleep, but something about sleeping pin the streets in a busy city was not appealing to me, so I wasn't able to sleep. Lucky for me though, Morning came quickly, and I needed to leave early anyways. I was on the other side of town.

It didn't really help my cause any thinking about the events that played out last night. All I could really do was put it the back of my mind and be there to be professional. Talk business. Nothing more.

I knocked on the door. Tidus answered the door. When I came in, I sat down on the nearest couch.

“Where's your mother?”

“She's asleep. She left very late last night and didn't get back until early in the

morning.”

“When did she leave last night?”

“She left at three a.m. and didn't get back until five. She woke me up to lock the door.”

What was she thinking?

“So, what are you and my mom going to talk about?

“Your father's will.”

“What is a will? The old lady next to us tells mom often of how the other people next door are trying to get on my mom's good side, so they can claim me, get the will, and keep it for themselves.”

Tsk. Vultures.

“I don't like them though, they're mean to me.”

“Don't worry, if things play out right, they won't be a problem, just wait and see.”

“But, what is a will?”

“A will is usually a lump sum of cash you receive when someone dies, that is if you are put on the will. The money is what is left behind in savings that belonged to the deceased. A will could be anything, money, belongings, or sometimes a demand. A demand happens to be your father's case.”

A sad look appeared on his face.

“Why does everyone think mom is going to die?”

“She seems… very sick.”

“Yeah, but she's fine! She's has to be! Sick people eventually get better! She has to as well, right?”

“Yes, but that's not always the case, some people don't get better at all.”

“She's not some people! Mommy will get better, I know she will!”

The boy's face gleamed with an innocent smile at the idea of his confidence. He's just a little angel. At that moment, I didn't just want to guard his life, I wanted to guard his heart.

The conversation was through, when a woman's voice cut into it.

“Tidus!”

I looked to find his mother standing in the entrance of the hallway.

She scowled at him, he reacted by cowering. The poor boy looked like a dough that had just been beaten. My heart melted instantly for him. What did the poor kid do this time? I wondered. She spoke again and in a scolding manner.

“Why didn't you wake me up when he got here?”

“You were sleepy last night mommy, so I didn't want to wake you up.”

“What did I tell you?”

“I'm sorry.”

“We have important things to discuss! I told you to waffle me up when he got here!”

She looked over to me worth a more welcoming stare than her poor son. I looked over to him. He had picked up a book and started reading. With a gesture from his mother, I followed her back to her room.

She had a bunch of papers cluttered on one desk. Out was an old thing and looked Just as fragile as her. The legs looked like they were about to snap under the weight of the desktop if you poked it too hard. A fragile desk for a fragile woman.

“Sorry. I know my room is a mess. You had me really thinking last night, so I made a trip to mine and Tidus’s social worker downtown at three. I didn't make it back till five in three morning. Let me tell you, people don't joke weekend they say,

“Zanarkand never sleeps.” I was surprised to find the office still open and or social worker filling out papers.”

“I heard. You left your son alone?”

“I told him to lock the door, it wasn't the first time I left him alone. Don't worry.”

“I am going to worry because it's dangerous to leave your seven-year old child at home, by himself, at three o'clock in the morning, for two hours! Should I go into the many scenarios of which things could have gone terribly wrong!?

I couldn't help myself. I heads to yell. She was vetoing entirely reckless with her child, not realizing how delicate bee actually was.

“I'm glad you care so deeply for my son as you do.”

“Can we talk about this later? We need to discuss your husband's will.”

“I need you to take custody of my son when my time here is up.”

“Wha-”

“I know this is sudden, I believe you knew my husband well, and you Monday be the only person I can trust. You get my will and this house. Everything you need to take care of him is provided. The only other person I can trust with this task is an old and disabled woman and can't take care of him, and the other people next door only want the money. They will put Tidus in foster care the first chance they get. I know you think I'm a horrible mother, but you have to believe me when I say I really do love my son. I don't want him in the hands of people who don't care about him. You will though, I can tell. You're already attached. So will you take him?”

“... I will take him, that is Jecht's will and I'll fulfill it.”

“Thank you… We should get started, these papers aren't going to fill themselves out.”

We went straight to it. Thirty minutes in, and she began to doze off.

I tried to get her to lay down for a bit, but she refused.

“Really, if you're tired, you should try to sleep.”

“No. These papers need to be finished.”

“We're halfway through, there's no harm in taking a break.”

“But if I lay down, there's no guarantee I'll wake back up either.”

She had a point, in order to become Tidus’s guardian, I had no choice but to fill these papers out.

Some odd minutes past by, and we had finished filling out everything. I was finally able to get Tidus’s mother back to bed. I felt no reason to stay, so I grabbed my sword and started heading towards the door. When I was walking by the kitchen, something caught my eye.

Tidus was trying to reach a box of crackers sitting on the counter, he wasn't quite tall enough to reach them, but he kept trying. It had occurred to me that he hasn't eaten all this time. I searched the cupboards for a plate until I eventually found one. I took the crackers and put them on a plate for him, then rummaged through the freezer box to get the stuff to make him a sandwich.

I made him two sandwiches, one for now, and another for later in case his mom didn't wake up for the rest of the day, or to sick to make him anything. We sat together while he ate.

“Not too shabby” I'd ask.

“Nope!”

His answer was muffled, but his head movements showed approval. After he finished eating, I resumed my departure. I was heading to the door when he ran up behind me and put his arms around me.

“Thank You for the sandwich Auron! Bye!”

I was flustered, I wasn't used to embrace, so out seemed normal of me to react. When my face cleared up, I turned to him and smiled.

“You're welcome, kiddo. See you around.”

I walked out this door, but something was trying to pull me back. It was as if the whole house was going to blow up and be disintegrated with everyone in it if I didn't turn back around.

I left that night, but I felt I had made a big mistake, and at a critical moment too. When I learned of this mistake, I had never been so scared in my life.