#you probably have better things to do than read these tags

[dragonydreams]

Plus One - Buck/Tommy

Title: Plus One Fandom: 9-1-1 Rating: Teen Audience And Up Pairings/Characters: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Tommy Kinard, Athena Grant/Bobby Nash Additional Tags: Fluff, family dinner, coming out, Tommy Kinard POV Summary: Buck is Tommy's plus one for dinner at the Grant-Nash home. Timeline: 7x05 Word Count: 2,366 Disclaimer: I claim no ownership over these characters. I am merely borrowing them from Reamworks, Brad Falchuk Teley-Vision, Ryan Murphy Television, and 20th Television. Betas: Thank you to @medieshanachie for looking this over for me.

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Tommy was enjoying sitting out in the sun with Evan's hand caught between both of his when his phone rang. He still couldn't believe that he'd just agreed to be Evan's date to his sister's wedding. 

Reluctantly, he removed his hand from on top of Evan's to pull his phone from his pocket. He didn't recognize the phone number, but in his line of work he couldn't ignore a call from an unknown number.

"I should probably take this," he said as he accepted the call. "Hello?"

"Hi Tommy, it's Bobby Nash."

"Captain Nash, hi," Tommy said, meeting Evan's wide eyes across the table. Evan gave his hand a little squeeze. "What can I do for you, Sir?"

"Athena and I would like you to come to dinner at our house," Bobby said. "We barely got to talk after the rescue and we would like to thank you properly."

"I was just doing my job," Tommy deflected, not that he wasn't grateful for the invitation.

"We both know that you weren't sanctioned to come get us. You put your career on the line to come save us and I cannot say how grateful we are that you did. The least we can do is make you a home cooked meal."

"I do miss your cooking," Tommy admitted. 

"I don't know if you're seeing anyone, but feel free to bring them along, too," Bobby offered. 

Tommy turned his hand over so he could squeeze Evan's. "I have started seeing someone who I think I'd like to bring." 

Across the table, Evan pointed at his chest and mouthed, 'Me?' Tommy just nodded. 

"We look forward to meeting them," Bobby said. "How's Wednesday night?" 

"Wednesday works for me," Tommy agreed. 

"I'll text you the address. I look forward to catching up," Bobby said.

"I'll see you then," Tommy said. He met Evan's eyes. "Want to go to dinner at Captain Nash's with me on Wednesday as my date?"

"You want me to be your date for dinner with Bobby and Athena?" 

"Only if you're comfortable with it," Tommy said. 

"Well, he'd find out about us at the wedding anyway," Evan said. "I like the idea of him knowing about us before then. He is kinda like my work dad."

"That's not really a thing," Tommy said, laughing. "I can't believe how much of a family the 118 became after I left."

"Hey, if you hadn't left when you did, I could have ended up at some other station." Evan shuddered dramatically. 

Tommy blinked. "I hadn't done that math. You were my replacement."

"You left some pretty big shoes to fill," Evan said. 

"How old are you?" Tommy hesitantly asked.

"I'm thirty-four," Evan said. 

"Ten years, that's not so bad," Tommy mused aloud.

"If it makes you feel any better, you wouldn't be the first person I've dated who is older than me. Abby was like twenty years older than me when we dated," Evan admitted.

"You have some kind of May/December fetish I should be aware of?" Tommy teased.

"N-No," Evan spluttered. "This would only be the second time I dated someone that much older than me. Not that you're old."

"I'm kidding, Evan," Tommy said. He wondered why Evan seemed to melt a bit every time he said his name. He'd need to remember to ask him about that sometime.

"Besides, there is something to being with someone more mature, with more life experience," Evan said. 

"Especially for someone who only recently discovered they were into men?" Tommy asked, knowingly. 

"Yeah," Evan said, blushing. 

"So, what kind of wine should I bring to this dinner?" Tommy asked, looking to get back onto safer ground. 

"Red wine for Athena and something non-alcoholic for Bobby," Evan said. 

"He's sober?" Tommy asked. "That certainly explains some things."

"Not my story to tell, but yeah," Evan confirmed. 

"Do you have a wine preference?" Tommy asked. "I'm not all that picky," Evan said. "Depends on my mood."

"Good to know," Tommy said. He took another sip of his terrible coffee and grimaced. "First, I'm going to get some real coffee and then head to the liquor store. Care to join me?"

"Y-you want me to come with you?" Evan asked, clearly surprised.

"Unless you have plans?"

"No, my day is wide open," Evan said, enthusiastically.

"Great, let's go," Tommy said. 

~~*~~

On Wednesday night, Tommy picked Evan up before heading to the Grant-Nash home. He and Evan had a mild debate about who should drive since Evan had been to the house many times before, but Tommy wanted to woo Evan. Even if just a little.

Evan was fidgeting beside him as Tommy rang the doorbell.

"Second thoughts?" he asked, resting a hand on Evan's back.

Evan steeled himself and grinned at Tommy. "Not a one."

The door swung open to reveal both Bobby and Athena. Tommy registered their surprise at seeing Evan with him. 

"Buck, what are you doing here?" Bobby asked.

"I-I'm Tommy's plus one," he stuttered. 

Athena recovered first and stepped around Bobby to loop her arm through Tommy's and pull him inside. "That is wonderful news. I can't wait to hear all about how you two got together."

As they walked down a short flight of stairs, Tommy saw Bobby pull Evan into a hug and say so softly that Tommy almost couldn't hear it, "I'm happy for you."

"This is for you," Tommy said, presenting the wine to Athena. "Thank you for having us over."

"It is our pleasure," she said. "Especially if we are getting the good gossip before everyone else." She winked at him. 

"I'm afraid Eddie's got you beat, in that case," Evan said as he and Bobby joined them. "He interrupted our first date."

"He does know how to keep a secret," Bobby said. "We didn't even know about Christopher for the first few weeks he was with us."

"He seems like a really great kid," Tommy said. 

"You've met him?" Bobby asked in surprise. "I thought you were dating Buck."

"I am, but Eddie and I have become pretty good friends since the rescue, too," Tommy said. "I've hung out at his place to watch some fights."

"Tommy flew the two of them to Vegas to see some fight a couple of weeks ago," Buck added. 

"You sure you're not dating both of them?" Athena teased.

"Oh, I'm sure; Eddie turned me down when I asked for a date, but said he wanted to be friends."

"Wait, you asked Eddie on a date?" Evan asked in surprise.

"I'm going to finish getting dinner on the table. Is that for tonight?" Bobby asked, gesturing to the bottle of sparkling grape juice in Evan's hand. He held it out for Bobby without looking away from Tommy.

"I'll go pour the wine," Athena said. "We're going to need it."

"Did you kiss him, too?" Evan demanded in a whisper, pulling Tommy to the far side of the room.

"No, it was nothing like that," Tommy insisted. "On the way back from Vegas I asked if I could take him on a proper date and Eddie said that he was flattered, but he had a girlfriend. I was surprised because it was the first time he'd mentioned her. Apparently she'd been babysitting Christopher while we were at the fight."

"So, am I like some kind of consolation prize?" Evan asked, his voice trembling.

"No, never," Tommy grasped Evan's face between both his hands. "I didn't know you were an option until I went to your loft that night. And when you said you'd been trying to get my attention all week, I realized I didn't want to miss my chance with you."

He kissed Evan then, a soft chaste kiss since they were at someone else's home, but one filled with promise.

Evan looked dazed when he released him, just like after their first kiss. Tommy could get used to putting that look on Evan's face.

"Now let's go eat, I'm starving," Tommy said, grabbing Evan's hand and pulling him towards the kitchen. "It smells amazing in here."

"You guys all good?" Athena asked, an eyebrow raised. 

"Yeah, we're good," Evan said, that dopey grin still on his face. 

"Coming through," Bobby said, setting a large pan of lasagna on the trivets on the table. 

Tommy inhaled deeply and sighed. "Man, I've missed your cooking."

"I'll have to make you my version sometime," Evan said as they sat. "Bobby's been teaching me how to cook and I think I've got this one down. Eddie and Christopher like it, at least."

"You've got the chili down, too," Bobby said, "now that you know the secret ingredient."

"He told you his secret chili ingredient?" Athena asked, surprised. "I don't even know that."

Evan puffed out his chest. "Yeah, I pestered it out of him."

Bobby served up the lasagna, the salad and garlic bread were passed around, and they took a few minutes to enjoy their food. 

"Bobby, you have only become a better chef," Tommy said. "When you retire you should definitely open a restaurant."

Bobby laughed. "Thank you for the compliment but that is a stress I do not want in my retirement. I much prefer cooking for family and friends."

"The 118 really has become a family, hasn't it?" Tommy asked, somewhat wistfully. "I could see it heading that way when I left, but leaving was still the right move for me."

"You seem happy at Harbor," Bobby said. "I've heard nothing but good things from your captain."

"You checkin' up on me?" Tommy teased.

"Maybe from time to time," Bobby admitted. "You seem much freer since your time with us."

Tommy glanced over at Evan. "Yeah, when I started at the 217 I did it as an out gay man. Took a page from Wilson's book and made it clear that this is who I am."

"I heard a lot of stories about Captain Gerard when I started and I know what it was like under him. I understand why you didn't feel comfortable sharing that part of yourself. I'm glad you found somewhere that you can be you." 

"Yeah, Gerard was the worst kind of old school misogynist. I saw what Han and Wilson went through when they started and out of self preservation didn't want to have him treat me that way, too. It was cowardly, but it was also survival."

Evan reached over to squeeze his thigh under the table. 

"I am a bit surprised you didn't tell us about yourself, Buck," Athena said. "You seem to share so much of yourself with everyone that this caught us a bit by surprise."

"I, um, didn't actually know this about myself until recently," Evan said, meeting Tommy's eyes. "Not until Tommy kissed me."

Tommy wondered about the look that Bobby and Athena shared and wondered if it had something to do with Evan and Eddie's close friendship. 

"Well, I'm -"

"We're," Athena cut in. 

"We're very happy for you both. I'm guessing you haven't told the rest of the team, aside from Eddie?"

"That's correct," Evan said. "Well, Maddie knows. Pretty sure she hasn't told Chimney since he isn't bouncing off the walls trying to keep a secret."

"But they'll know soon, as I'll be Evan's date for his sister's wedding," Tommy finished.

"Now that's one way to come out," Athena said. "You sure you want to do that with your parents there?"

"I'm done trying to get their approval. We're never going to be close. If they can't accept that I'm dating a man now, that's on them."

Tommy could sense that there was a lot of bad blood there, but now was not the time to ask. He wondered if this had anything to do with why everyone called him Buck instead of by his name and wondered if he should be doing that too. But Evan hadn't asked him not to call him Evan; in fact, he seemed to like it. Tommy made a note to ask about that later.

"That's very mature of you," Athena said.

"What can I say, the therapy actually helped."

The rest of dinner progressed easily. Athena told them about Bobby's heroics after the ship capsized and his acrobatics to get Norman safely lowered to the new floor of the ship. 

Tommy told them about some of his more interesting rescues, although saving Bobby and Athena would be at the top of his list for a long time when telling stories to other people. 

When it was time to go, Bobby packaged up the leftover lasagna for Tommy to take home with him. Evan pouted about Tommy getting all of the leftovers and Bobby promised to make it at the station soon.

On the drive back to Evan's loft, Tommy asked, "Would you prefer if I call you Buck?" Evan turned to look at him. "It's just, I know that's what everyone else calls you."

"I-I kinda like that you don't call me what everyone else does," Evan admitted. "I always felt like such a disappointment as Evan, so when there were two other Evans in my class at the fire academy I started having people call me Buck. Buck wasn't a screw up. Buck was a firefighter who could get things done. Someone who mattered."

"You matter regardless of what you're called," Tommy interrupted. 

Evan reached out to clasp Tommy's hand on the gearshift. "I know that. And when you call me Evan, I don't feel like a disappointment. I guess you could say that you're a first step to reclaiming that name."

"So should I expect everyone else to start calling you Evan now, too?" Tommy asked.

"Unlikely," Evan said, laughing. "You've seen how no one calls Chimney 'Howie' anymore. Except for Maddie, sometimes."

"If at any point you change your mind, I will call you by whatever name you want," Tommy assured him. 

"Thank you, that means a lot," Evan answered. 

As they approached Evan's apartment building, he asked, "Do you want to come up for a nightcap?"

Tommy glanced over to see the hopeful expression on Evan's face and even though he knew he shouldn't, he found himself saying, "I'd love to."

[thatsbelievable]

[plulp]

whitney (design kinda mid but its alright ill deal with it)

[iceeericeee]

I wonder how many tags i can add on to this

[front-facing-pokemon]

[chibishortdeath]

Hmmm I kinda want to make a side blog for RPG Maker game development related things to be able to talk to more experienced people in that community, but at the same time I both don’t really think I’d get much attention and don’t want to accidentally spoil my own game (^^ ; ).

I have a rough story, concept doodles, a tileset, some character sprites, an enemy that walks around but can’t initiate battle yet (if I even decide to have a battle system), a couple rooms with some events, and a functioning run button, but I’m still lost on how to do much else at the moment. Especially since this program has the ability for scripting, meaning I’ll probably have to learn and actually retain another coding language.

So, I’m not very far at all lol. Idk how well that’d go over on the established fandom website, but eh.

[medicinemane]

.

[inkyu]

More art 🍽️

I have this, it's the only piece of John Egbert art I am proud of

nice background practice too for looking at refs, I want to practice backgrounds to get good at it :33

my version of HS^2 John though, I feel like he would wear two shirts and have side burns

idk that's just me

anyways i'm going back to being afk again

[iknowwhereyousleepatnight]

biggest pet peeve is when i show someone my art and they decide to give their own input like “oh if i were you i would change this” and “i think you should’ve done this or that” like. who asked? i’m showing it to you because i’m proud of it idc if you think it’s trash because i “should’ve put more detail into the this aspect so that blah blah blah” don’t care + didn’t ask

[sparring-spirals]

imogen being drained by her rudimentary hold on her psychic abilites vs resorting to mind reading bc she just has to get answers to any question that pops in her head and she has a hard time w frustration vs relying on what causes her immense pain as her only way to trust that they're being honest even if it means risking learning something she really didn't want to vs being repeatedly told to announce herself by ppl who unknowingly don't announce themselves on the regular vs so much more

and to add onto my messy "imogen vs" ask idk if it's the right wording and this is pure projection but: the way her relationship to her powers is transpiring kinda makes me feel the same way my ocd makes me feel like idk it's very very interesting and fascinating to me. i'm not sure exactly how to put it and which exemples to give (the character limit doesn't help my rambly nature) so this is a bit of an empty ask but yeah.... anyways keep sharing your thoughts it's always interesting! take care

First of all: thank you! You take care of yourself too. :D

Secondly: Hmmmmm. Okay. Gonna be straightforward here, I'm not sure my askbox/this space is the best option/conduit for this particular ask/line of thought, if only because. I think there is something specific in this you are resonating with/prodding at that draws from you personally, that you're trying to puzzle out.

Which! Is generally a valid and fine way to engage with media and is how some excellent metas are written. I think a lot of Imogen's struggles and characterizations resonate with a variety of mental/physical struggles, and there are so many goddamn layers to read it with. (This excellent post by @mysticalspiders comes to mind).

But also, I am not you, and so I don't feel particularly confident in interpreting something that is serving as a catalyst for your thoughts, in part because I'm absolutely going to interpret it differently, which can land differently if you're drawing from a very personal place when interpreting it.

(You don't have to feel bad about it, or anything, this is also a more general PSA so folks are aware before sending in headcanons/more indulgent projections/extensive theories- not because I dislike them necessarily, but because. I take asks for me to provide Opinions Or Analysis on things.

I definitely interpret things My Way, which can be different than intended, or even a more general "I have no thoughts about this, actually", which can land unpleasantly when people are invested or personally invested in their line of thought.

So, largely to play it safe, I'm going to say here, and also more generally, that I might not engage as much with what I understand as largely indulgent/personal hcs/metas that come through my askbox).

That aside, to the first part alone, I will say that: Yeah Imogen's brain is almost certainly going through a number of tug-of-wars and damage control at all times, and it makes her a very, very fascinating character to pull apart and poke. Definitely feel you on that. 👌

[ablednt]

I think everyone needs at least one unassuming media they read way too much into and like it only counts if you sound absolutely insane talking about it like you Cannot Be Normal about it, mentally you’ve got all the characters and plot points pinned up on a wall and your putting all these strings around and it’s largely incoherent but makes sense To You.

[road2manjuumaster]

im gonna yell in the tags just to be safe but i am THINKING

[pinkanonhopes]

i'm listening to the song i wrote about my friend because i'm sad

[calcescarp]

after pjo/hoo, i could not be more surprised (and delighted) at the anti-cop, anti-rich sentiment in mcga

[crispiestbagel]

Wow even on 2023 tunglr i cant escape the weirdass fandom take that if u didnt enjoy their thing is because u "missed the point" and while i could and probably should just continue to ignore that i really really wanna talk about why that, at face value, is such a ridiculous concept to me like.

Really. Lol.

Speaking legitimately.

Sometimes people just don't find things tasty for personal reasons.

Sometimes people have had other food of the same flavour to compare to. (Have seen other things set out to do the same thing, more to their liking.)

Sometimes people get the point but also don't agree with it.

Sometimes people like the point but don't think it was accomplished sufficiently, that the "chef" could have chosen better seasonings or cooked it longer to achieve greater heights of perfection.

Sometimes people just don't vibe with things for reasons that have nothing to do with "missing the point". Heck, sometimes even when u generally LIKE something, you are frustrated by specifics of the execution. Theres a lot of people with different tastes, experiences, and outlooks, it would be weirder if everyone liked something unconditionally simply because they understood what it was trying to accomplish lol

[osaemu]

GOJO SATORU: ❛❛ IS IT OVER NOW? (IT ISN'T) ❜❜

.ೃ࿐ streamer!au: all good things come to an end, including your relationship—but don't worry, broken hearts can be mended, but only if you're both willing to try.

contents: fem!reader. you two break up and make up! you guys fight/break up over something that coulda been resolved with better communication. kinda suggestive ending, maybe i'll drop a part two if this does alright. satoru announces your break-up on his stream. longest fic i've posted so far, 4k words (kms).

author's note: the long awaited angst has finally arrived.. big thank you to @screampied for beta-reading!! tagging @yunymphs who read it early and @sutorus + @kentopedia who i both miss very much!!

ever since you first joined satoru on his stream, it’s gotten way more popular than either of you could’ve ever expected. before he brought you onto his live, he was averaging about eight thousand views per stream. now, his average was well over fifteen thousand—and that wasn't even including the publicity he got from other websites. when satoru accidentally left the camera on while you two made out, you two went viral on twitter. and when another user tried to swipe him away, the clip got over a hundred thousand views on youtube.

at first, satoru didn't mind the change his stream was going through—in fact, he welcomed it. but lately, things have been… different.

last week, while satoru was playing in some competition, he won first out of hundreds of equally proficient players. had it been anyone else, their comments would've been filled with congratulations and good job's, but in his case, all satoru got were messages asking where you were. that wasn’t the first time—ever since that very first day, when you showed up on his stream, satoru’s audience has entirely shifted. and honestly, if you were in his position, you'd be a bit annoyed. anyone would be. 

but you had never expected that it would be so big of a deal that you and satoru—the "cutest couple on the internet"—would break up over it.

you walk along the chilly, suburban sidewalk up to your boyfriend’s house. satoru had just sent you a message asking if you could come over, and like always, you answered with an immediate yes. a flock of crows fly by, raven feathers providing a stark contrast between them and the pale gray sky around you. it’s gray and gloomy, but not unpleasant. 

a sweet, romantic song plays in your ears as you knock three times on satoru’s front door. his familiar voice calls out “coming!”, and you can hear his footsteps grow louder and louder until he swings open the door. satoru smiles down at you, cheeks already rosy from the cold winter air. “hey.”

you tilt your head and smile back at him. “that’s all i get? hey?” you huff, walking into his living room behind him as the door closes behind you. “d’you have any hot chocolate? i’m freezing,” you say, licking your lips. satoru turns and pauses, an unreadable expression on his face. “satoru?”

after a moment, your boyfriend snaps out of it. “oh, yeah, sorry,” he says ruefully. satoru rubs his eyes with one hand and uses the other to open the door to his bedroom, and as you follow him in, you’re hit with a blast of warm air. “i’m just kinda tired, but yeah, i have some hot cocoa in here. c’mon.”

“anything i can do for you?” you offer, sitting down on the corner of his bed. you’ve been to his house so many times that it feels like home—maybe even more so than your own place. everything about satoru’s room is comfortable, from his plush chairs to the faux-fur blankets draped over every single piece of his furniture. you could probably fall over at any given point and it wouldn’t actually hurt—you’d just land on something soft and/or fluffy.

but that wasn’t all that made you so in love with his home. it was just the way it felt—words couldn’t describe the way everything was just so right and just so perfect, and you really did hope that you’d never have to see a time where you wouldn’t be able to spend time with your boyfriend here.

it really is a shame that all good things had to come to an end. at least, that’s what you kept telling yourself as satoru finally told you why he called you over. unlike nearly every other time, it wasn’t because he missed you or wanted to cuddle—it was quite the opposite, really.

“i don’t think this is working.”

six words that shattered the life you had come to know and love.

“is this a joke?” you try, an unnerved smile spreading across your lips against your will. he doesn’t reply instantly, which is so out-of-character for him that it makes you stiffen up. “satoru, this isn’t funny—”

“i’m not kidding,” satoru murmurs, looking away. he refuses to meet your eyes, and some part of you is still desperately trying to find reason in the chaos that’s slowly taking over your mind. how could it be that everything was just fine two minutes ago and now it’s anything but that? did something happen? did you say the wrong thing? did you—

“it’s not funny,” you insist, still somehow clinging onto your slowly-dwindling hope. maybe you’re in denial, but still, you were sure that everything was fine—no, that everything is fine. there was no past-tense, right? how could the glass home you’d built with your bare hands just crash down at the throw of a pebble?

satoru finally meets your eyes, and your breath catches in your throat. there’s no amused glimmer in his eyes, no “just kidding” in sight, and even worse, you can’t even see an ounce of the love or adoration you’d come to grow so attached to in just a couple months.

“what happened?” you whisper, miraculously managing to keep yourself together. you’d never forgive yourself if you just started crying over a breakup you weren’t even sure was happening—what little’s left of your pride is holding on. you allow yourself to wrap your arms around your chest, curling into your own embrace. 

satoru doesn’t reply for a long second. right when you’re sure he just won’t reply, he does, and it all comes spilling out in a messy stream of words. “it’s just… i can’t do this anymore. i can’t keep going online and seeing everyone on my stream talking about you. i love you, i really do, but it’s just—” satoru shakes his head frustratedly. “i don’t know how to say it, but you know what i mean, right?”

your eyebrows furrow and you shake your head. “you’re breaking up with me because you’re tired of seeing me?”

“no, fuck,” satoru groans, running a hand through his hair. his previously cool and collected demeanor starts to fall apart as he takes a step back. “i don’t know how to explain it, but— shit, you wouldn’t understand.”

you swallow and start to stand up, still willing to try. “then help me understand, satoru, i—”

“you’ve seen the comments, and you’ve seen all the posts on twitter,” satoru says, tilting his head back and glaring at the ceiling. “it’s not your fault, but i really just can’t stand everyone disregarding me and turning my own stream into a youtube channel starring you.”

his words sting like alcohol in an open wound, and you fight the battle of your life to prevent the thousands of tears hiding behind your eyes from being visible. even so, your voice wobbles ever so slightly as you say “that’s a bullshit reason to break up, satoru—”

your boyfriend—is he even still your boyfriend?—scoffs and shakes his head, stumbling back and falling into his chair. "for you, it isn't. you wouldn’t understand. for me, it's like everyone's just... invalidating the three years i've spent on this shit. and i can't do it anymore, i just can't."

you blink slowly, backing away towards his bedroom door. "what does that mean?"

satoru exhales a bitter laugh and turns away, the back of his chair facing you. you think you can hear him take a soft, shaky breath as the room falls silent. neither of you make a sound before satoru turns back toward you, a blank look on his face.

he looks up at you, azure eyes devoid of the sparkle you've become so familiar with. satoru smiles sadly, but to your dismay, there's no real emotion behind it. it's almost like he's already accepted it when he says, "it means we—" he pauses and looks away. "this is over."

you reach out toward him, desperate to hold on to him—to the invisible string that ties you and satoru together, but he's just out of your grasp. "satoru, it isn't even that big of a deal, why are you—"

satoru turns and fixes you with a stern glare, and just like that, the string that kept you and satoru together for months, maybe years snaps, and you're left with a limp strand of what it once was. taking the hint, you walk out of his room in a daze, hardly noticing the way he says "i'm sorry".

and the worst part? he said he still loved you. but apparently that wasn’t enough.

satoru has every right to be annoyed that his stream is only growing because of you—his stream was the way he made money, and after all, it was never meant to be about you. 

and maybe he was never meant to be for you either.

the walk home is cold and lonely. you slip a hand into your pocket—the pocket of satoru's hoodie, which you should probably return to him—and extract your earphones. it probably isn't a good idea to wear both outside as you walk home, but you do it anyway—this day can't possibly get any worse.

a soft voice murmurs words of sorrow and encouragement in your ear as the music takes you to another world. maybe this—the breakup—was meant to happen. maybe it was a mistake to date a boy with thousands of fans.

as soon as you get home, your phone dings softly. you pick it up and frown when you see it's from toru. you'd have to change that name later.

toru: idk if u blocked me already but i still have a lot of ur things, do u wanna come pick them up later?

toru: or i can drop them off tmrw ig

you miss the way he used to text you—with an obnoxious amount of exclamation points and an even worse amount of emojis. now, it's like all of the flavor's gone from his words, and it hurts. that's when it actually settles in, that this is really over. it hurts like an icicle being driven straight through your heart, and it stings like one, too.

satoru's texts are left on delivered for five whole minutes before you reply, and it's only with an "i'll come by tmrw". he likes the message less than a minute later, and you're left to wallow in your misery alone until you finally drift off to sleep.

the next morning, you open your phone to a notification alerting you that satoru’ll be live on stream in ten minutes. curiosity kills the cat, but in this case, maybe it’d be worth it to see what he tells his viewers about your breakup. after all, there’s no way he wouldn’t tell them—he always had something to say about you, and he’d probably rather tell them for sure rather than let them come up with ridiculous theories on their own.

so you hastily make a new account using some email account you haven’t touched since middle school, trying a couple different passwords until you remember the one that works. the website hits you with a hundred questions, asking you about your favorite games and who’d you like to subscribe to first. you choose satoru, albeit after a second of hesitation. two minutes later, sparklingzebra672 joins your ex-boyfriend’s stream. you wait a second, holding your breath as the live loads. a brief moment later, satoru’s painfully familiar face appears on your screen.

“hey guys,” satoru says, forcing a smile on his face. even from behind a screen, you swear you can feel his eyes on you. “how’s everyone today?” 

the already unstable smile on satoru’s face falls when he opens the comments and gets greeted with a flurry of where’s your girlfriend’s. had you been anyone else, you probably wouldn’t have noticed the way satoru’s eyes dulled ever so slightly or the way he curled into himself, but being the girl who once knew him best, you could tell.

“oh, she won’t be back on here for… a while,” satoru starts, dancing around the topic. he leans back against his chair and tilts his chin up, azure eyes focused on the ceiling. “we broke up.”

nothing could’ve prepared you for the way satoru’s comments explode. it’s almost like you can hear the shocked gasps coming from all fourteen—no, twenty thousand viewers as the words nobody thought would ever they’d hear from satoru are spoken.

suguru-geto: holy shit im so sorry 

toji-fushiguro: wait wtf r u kidding?? that's fuckin crazy

yuuji-itadori: omg i thought u guys were together forever :(

inumaki: chat is this real??

satoru shrugs, averting his eyes from the hundreds of comments pouring in, but you scroll through and read them all. everyone, even satoru’s haters, seems genuinely shocked. in fact, had this not been your own breakup, you would’ve been one of them, begging and pleading satoru for more details.

“yeah, we did,” satoru murmurs, eyebrows furrowing just enough for you to read his expression. now that you’re looking closer, you can see the subtle redness underneath his eyes—had he been crying too? and maybe you’re imagining it, but his hair seems a bit dishelved too. your ex-boyfriend shrugs, forcing his face back into his usual lighthearted expression, but it’s not fooling anyone.

satoru scowls at the new flood of comments asking him why you two broke up. some people are already hypothesizing—maybe it’s because you got jealous of his fame, or maybe he got sick of you. maybe you left him to go date some other streamer, or maybe—

“i’m actually gonna end the stream here, ‘cause i don’t really want to deal with all of this right now,” satoru says with a frown. his eyes are narrowed irritably as a couple users protest, still begging for more details. “you guys know that i’m a real person with my own life, right? fuck off.”

and just like that, the stream ends. you’re left with a blank screen and a message saying that satoru’s ended the live, so you shut your laptop. your stomach turns as you groan, just remembering that you have to go over to his place later to retrieve your things, and somehow, you’d have to pretend that you didn’t just stalk his stream to see if he’d say anything substantial about the breakup.

a couple minutes after the stream ends, your phone blows up—every mutual friend you and satoru have is messaging you about what he said, but you can’t bring yourself to open any of them. except for one.

suguru: r u ok?

you: yeah ig

suguru: do u want anything?

satoru’s best friend’s question catches you off-guard—there are a lot of things you want. you want this whole situation to go away. you want the world to disappear. and most of all, you want satoru back, without the online world attached.

but suguru can’t do any of those things, can he? so you leave him on read. 

somehow, you fall back asleep, tossing and turning in your bed without satoru’s steady arms to accompany you. a couple hours later, you wake up again, wincing from the dim sunlight that pours through your windows and directly into your eyes. it’s just past five, so you figure that you might as well go down to satoru’s house and get your things. better to do it now than drag it out for an uncertain amount of time.

the walk is shorter than you remember, but maybe it’s just the absence of music pouring into your ears that makes it seem that way. you watch the wilted autumn leaves flutter in the wind, falling down onto the sidewalk like pieces into place. once upon a time, you had walked these very streets with satoru—it’s a fond memory you remember only all too well.

when you finally step onto your ex’s doorstep, the door opens before you even have a chance to knock. and there he is—the boy who’d once been the love of your life. satoru looks down at you with an unreadable expression. “hey.”

you think you’ve seem this film before, and you didn’t like the ending.

satoru spares you from having to reply by opening the door wider and beckoning you inside. “i already put most of your stuff into a couple boxes, but i thought you’d wanna check on your own. just in case i forgot something.”

you nod and walk past him, not trusting your voice to be steady. this was harder than you expected—much harder. in fact, you’re practically on the verge of breaking down when you step into satoru’s room and look around and see just how different it looks without the touches of you everywhere.

the fortnite poster you’d given him as a joke for the second anniversary of his stream was gone from his wall, and so were the two mini succulents that used to sit on the corner of his desk. the white cat plushie that used to rest on his pillow was gone, too—probably stuffed somewhere in one of the boxes outside his bedroom door.

after nearly a minute of looking around, you decide that whatever satoru possibly could’ve missed wasn’t important enough for you to have to stick around any longer.

you turn and start to exit satoru’s room so fast that you nearly crash into him when he suddenly appears in the doorway. “shit, sorry about that,” you mumble, trying to walk around him. but of course, because the universe is actually praying on your downfall, you and satoru both walk the same way at the same time. you awkwardly try to go around each other, and eventually, the humiliation is over.

“so, you got everything?” satoru asks, walking beside you with his hands in his pockets. you nod, bending over to pick up one of the two boxes. it’s pretty heavy, but not unmanangable. you just don’t really seem to know if you’ll be able to carry both back home at once. 

“oh, uh, i’ll be right back,” you say tentatively. a flash of confusion appears in satoru’s eyes, so you clarify, “i’m gonna go grab my car. that’ll make it easier.”

satoru’s eyebrows furrow and he shakes his head. “no, it’s alright. your place isn’t far from here at all, i’ll just take the other and walk back with you.”

“no, really, it’s alright.”

“it’s the easiest option, ba—” satoru cuts himself off, stopping himself from calling you baby for the first time since you two had started dating. “sorry.”

“let’s just go.”

the walk back to your house is brutal. you walk side by side with satoru since the path is wide enough for you to do so, and you two just keep bumping into each other. had you still been dating, satoru probably would’ve dropped the box and scooped you up instead, kissing your cold face to warm it up. of course, that would’ve added five minutes to your walk, but it would’ve been better than the tense silence dividing you and satoru right now. 

the wind whistles around you, brushing at your skin and making you shiver with every gust—there’s nothing more you’d like than to go home, plop on your couch and cry while watching the titanic for the hundredth time. 

after what seems like three hundred awkward hours later, you and satoru finally make it to your house. “thanks,” you say quietly, setting down your box in front of the door. 

satoru places his next to yours and slips his hands back into his pockets. he nods and replies, “no problem,” but still doesn’t leave.

you cross your arms, and tilt your head, meeting his eyes hesitantly. “umm, do you need anything else?”

satoru coughs tensely and shrugs. “oh, uh, not really, just—” his eyes drift down to your top, and your face grows warm when you realize you’re still wearing his hoodie. 

“shit, my bad,” you mumble, internally cringing and resisting the urge to say every curse word you know. could this day really get any worse?

well, at least satoru looks equally as embarrassed. he shakes his head and gestures for you to keep it on. “it’s fine, it’s kinda cold anyways. keep it.” satoru hesitates, shuffling his feet before continuing, “if you want something… to remember me by.”

what you say next was done entirely against your will. “do you still love me?” you ask suddenly, not sure what otherworldly force prompted you to do so. you instantly regret it when satoru’s face goes even redder, and you can tell it’s not from the cold the way his blush spreads to his ears.

“i— uh, i mean—”

“answer me, satoru, i think i have a right to know.”

he looks away and mumbles something about needing to go back home, to feed his fish or something (he doesn’t have a fish), and you grab his hand just as he starts to turn away. “please, satoru, i need to know,” you breathe, squeezing his hand harder when he flinches. 

ten silent seconds tick by, but you still don’t let go. so satoru sighs, a soft white puff of air coming from his lips. “yeah.”

your heart breaks again.

“then why did you—”

“because i don’t know how to do this,” satoru says, blue eyes darting all over the place. “i love you, i really do, but i just can’t— i don’t like having thousands of people thinking that i’m only worth looking at if i’m with you, it’s annoying and it pisses me off and i don’t want to accidentally take it out on yo—”

you cut him off with a kiss, ignoring the way he yelps a little in surprise. but thankfully, he doesn’t push you away—instead, his arms instantly wrap around you and pull you closer into his warm, warm chest. satoru’s lips are a little dry, but still minty as ever from the peppermints he’s constantly munching on. he kisses you back like a man starved of affection, and when you two finally break apart, his eyes are just as hungry.

“you idiot,” you whisper, trailing your fingers through his hair as tears prick at the corner of your eyes. “you shoulda just talked to me about it first.”

“i know,” satoru mumbles, looking down bashfully. “‘m sorry.”

“you should be.” you pause, watching satoru’s lips curve into a pouty frown. “i’m sorry too,” you murmur, and he looks up, confused. “i should’ve seen this coming.”

satoru shakes his head and presses his lips to your forehead, lingering for a couple seconds before pulling back. “i missed you.”

“i was gone for less than a day, satoru.”

“oh, so you didn’t miss me?”

“i did,” you admit, exhaling a puff of air when satoru smiles smugly. “shut up, it’s not a competition!”

“yeah it is, but fine, you win,” satoru gives in with a dramatic sigh, reaching down and twining his fingers with yours. his hands, which are significantly bigger than yours, instantly warm you up. “but only ‘cause i don’t want you to break up with me next.”

“i hate you, y’know that?” you grumble, leaning into his side and letting satoru kiss the top of your head. he hums in agreement, reaching out and opening your front door. 

“i’m sure you do, baby. now c’mon, let’s get inside n’ warm up. i wanna make it up to you,” satoru says with a grin, bending over and scooping up both boxes. 

“oh, yeah? how do you plan to do that?” you challenge, going inside first and holding the door open for satoru. once he’s inside, you close the door and instantly get pinned against it by satoru, whose hands are already creeping underneath your clothes. “satoru, your hands are col—”

he cuts you off by pressing his equally cold lips to yours, smiling against your mouth as he tugs at your clothes. “i know, baby. but i’ll keep you nice n’ warm for the rest of the night, i promise!”