#canon has been messy as hell recently anyway so reality can be whatever i want ^_^

[chaerimoon]

living in my fantasy world where the first mission happened like this and pac definitely didn't get taken (AGAIN...)

[shiro-hatzuki]

I loved reading your Es art analysis and wanted 2 ask what are your favorite milgram theories for each of the prisoners + es and jackalope! doesn't have to be like the ones you believe are the most likely to be canon or make the most sense but just ones you think are funny or interesting, I'd love to hear!

anon? you enabling me to scream about my opinions even more? /j

okay real talk, i can't say i have too many theories that are particular favorites of mine (tho i do have a few faves!) since i'm so indecisive and end up loving them all lol. i'll share some theories i've recently had on my mind, though!

theories below the cut! probably contains spoilers. also hyperlinks for days, and CW: several sensitive topics including prostitution, bullying, child abuse, and probably others that are standard fair for milgram will be mentioned.

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Haruka: killing my old self- wait a minute

this is the theory i came up with when i first was introduced to milgram. in this theory, haruka believes he was a "loved" child in his past and an "unloved" child in the present. he sees his past self as what he should ideally be, but through his unforgivable actions (hurting the girl, bashing the dog up with the rock, and possibly other actions we didn't see), he can no longer be a boy worthy of love nor happiness. he sees another child that is like his loved self or he sees his loved self in that child, and jealous (or a plethora of different emotions he may have), he kills that child. I hold this theory dear to me since it's my first one, but i quite like other haruka theories regarding the specifics of his motives as well as who the hell his victim is.

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Yuno: i don't get around that much

the theory goes that yuno is dating one older gentleman who has a lot of money (sugar daddy relationship), and the scenes we see are the 4 different times they met up that could have caused her pregnancy. as a side note, they probably met up more times than 4, but these are the times that she thinks might have caused it. due to the balloons in the giant balloon being different colors, though, i think it's more likely that she was an escort for 4 clients, but hey, it's possible.

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Fuuta: the gamer malewife of my dreams <3 /j

wow shiro, you have strangely specific dreams. anyways, this is a silly theory in which fuuta is actually surprisingly good at housework. fuuta has stated in his interro questions that his parents were divorce, and since he doesn't remember much about his mother, his parents probably separated early in his life. though i'm not sure if his dad was a working man or was struggling through some way or another, he probably had trouble taking care of the housework along while looking after his kids. that meant that the kids were either living in a messy house (not necessarily bad enough to warrant child protective services, just not spotless), or it was up to the kids to help with the chores. whatever happened, fuuta either prefers or is used to keeping everything clean, and from the shots we can see of what i assume is his current place of residence, he's been doing alright with keeping things relatively tidy (there are still some things here and there and his bed doesn't look made, but at least it's not like my room lol).

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Muu: the mv is in reverse order

i recently saw this theory after it was posted in the fancult server by a user that goes by pai, and i think it's super interesting! it goes that the murder of muu's victim and the ending scene actually happened before muu started to be bullied. victim girl was the subject of bullying, but then muu killed the girl. at first, her classmates feared muu, but eventually, they bullied her due to at least being suspected, if not know to be, the killer of victim girl. i'm not sure if i fully think this theory is probable, but i do find it interesting to think that the timeline we see is not reality.

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Shidou: "bad at my job" kirisaki

my half baked theory on shidou i posted a bit ago! according to the theory, shidou is a surgeon who does very vital operations that could save lives, but he's a really bad surgeon, so he can't save lives for shit. it's not that he didn't study and train properly, didn't take his job seriously, nor didn't care about his patients; he did all of those things! but for some reason, he keeps screwing up. the flower person at the end is actually a symbol of his dying career because he can't save people for shit, each flower being a patient he tried to save - thought he saved - building up to a mountain of failure. this theory is mostly a joke and an excuse to say "shidou sucks" a few times /lh. (i still love him, tho)

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Mahiru: the last supper

i think the theory that "mahiru's food we see in day 16 killed her lover" is really funny. okay, so it could be the yandere thing like in the psychogram (the song she covered) mv where it's intentionally killing him because "with your death, you can be bound to me forever" or whatever's going on there, but it's funnier to think that mahiru accidently put something her partner is deathly allergic to, she passed out, then woke up to find that her partner had died from her food. alternatively, her partner had choked on his food while mappi was passed out. oops.

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Kazui: faithful to the end

basically me going "haha noooo kazui don't cheat you're so sexy." the theory is that kazui didn't cheat on his wife with the woman at the bar. the woman was just a business partner, coworker, or even just a female friend. however, although there were no romantic feelings, it still stood in contrast with his relationship with his wife. he wasn't enjoying his wife's company anymore. he didn't love her anymore. he should have kept up the lie of being content with the partner he chose for his life, but he let the lie slip away. but both him and his partner were not as young as they used to be, and perhaps they had been married for long enough that the years they spent together amounting to nothing but a failed marriage gave a feeling of hopelessness, at least to them. thus, for better or worse (i think worse), they didn't divorce.

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Amane: childhood stardom

in the early days of amane's mv release, i saw a small theory going around that amane was literally a child star on a television show, and the entertainment industry was rough on her/possibly abusive towards her as well as other child talents (or at least the particular company she was contracted under). of course, nowadays you don't see this theory as much, and the religious themes that have been surrounding her since the beginning of the project have lead to the cult theory being more prevalent and the tv themes being taken less literally. i personally agree that the tv themes are much less literal when i interpret amane and don't believe that amane was a child talent for tv, but i still think about this theory with fondness.

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Mikoto: running from my dark days

the theory goes that mikoto was once part of a gang when he was younger. probably not yakuza, but a rag-tag street gang or even biker gang. he went to school and joined the workforce to get away from his past, but he couldn't break away from the gang so easily. the dude we see crawling away from him at the train platform looks a bit like what your average gang member might look like, and the imagery of bikes and bikers, knives, bats, and probably other street thug imagery are all over mikoto's tarot cards. i think this theory is neat, and i never would have thought of it on my own.

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Kotoko: i have what you want to know

the theory is that kotoko needs to work a few odd jobs to get by, one of them being an info broker. this mainly comes from the back-alley deal scene where she is exchanging slips of paper with another person. information is one of the currencies she works in when on the streets, thus why she seems so keen on gathering information. it also helps her own goals when she exchanges information with others, such as tracking down the people she's beating up (and potentially beating to death hi dude that kotoko probably killed). admittedly, my love for this theory might just come from my inexplicable bias towards info broker/informant characters. yeah, very specific, i know.

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Es: child of the prison

for this theory, es was raised in the milgram prison. this theory comes from the eleventh door being very old (assuming it was once es's cell) as well as the impression i got from things like undercover, which is that the clues to es's past are hidden within the prison, not just their forgotten memories. furthermore, if they were raised to be a prison guard, then that could explain why they accepted and fell into the role so easily. the details are still dodgy for me, though. were they born in the prison? or were they a young child that was brought to the prison and raised there? of course, it could just be that es wasn't raised in the prison at all, too. i'm hoping that the light novel could shed some light on the nature of wardens becoming wardens if not show es themself.

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Jackalope: literally just a rabbit

so we know that es is basically the only one that can hear jackalope, but after seeing various things in the milgram ip with the prisoners just considering jack to be a bunny and even treating him like a normal bunny, i wondered if he literally looked like a normal bunny. shidou's drawing of jack made this theory much less likely, though, since he drew jack with horns. idk if the prisoners assume the horns are attached to his head or not, but at the very least, the horns are on him. still, this theory was really funny while it lasted because es would've been like "he doesn't like it when you call him a rabbit. i guess he's not quite a rabbit since he's a mythical creature with horns." and the prisoners would've been like "horns??? you tripping, warden?????"

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and those are some of the theories i've had on my mind for every character! the theories that are mostly not bsed from my own head are muu's, mahiru's, amane's, and mikoto's, though i currently can't find links to more in depth explanations of these theories (if i find them again, i'll hyperlink those too)(also this is not to say the other theories weren't thought of by other people. it's just that i thought of those mostly independently aside from some back and forth with a friend for one or two of them, and if they match someone else's theory, it's by coincidence. or blame that friend /j).

thank you for this ask, anon! it was fun doing a quick run through of all of these.

[inkth]

cream of the crop pt. 1

pairing → mygxreader

genre → angst (in future parts), fluff

warnings → for this part, there are no warnings

word count → 6.6k

okAY so fyi this is unedited for now and i might come back to switch certain things up but oh my god in bon voyage there was a part where yoongi got a strawberry milkshake and i stg this was in my wip waaaay before that so when i saw the gif i think i wailed a bit bc he made it literally canon my friends!!!! hope u enjoy this guys im chwishfsdkfhl

Yoongi just wanted a god damn strawberry milkshake to release work stress. not to be grabbed by the arm by a stranger begging him to role play as some perfect boyfriend or another.

There are a variety of absurd experiences Min Yoongi has been unfortunate enough to cross within his current lifetime.

Thinking back, there was that time Yoongi picked up the phone to his childhood best friend Kim Namjoon, who thought he was being robbed by foreigners on the side of the street at one in the afternoon, and frantically asked Yoongi to please come save him by the way its the sidewalk on 44th street bring a gun!

“What kind of fucking robbers let you make a phone call, dumbass?” Yoongi barked into the phone, pretty upset that his afternoon nap was interrupted by some nonsensical disturbance.

“Oh shit Yoongi, you’re probably right,” Namjoon exhales and stays on the phone with him though, as he tries to solve the mystery of the tourists who just wanted to let Namjoon know that he had dropped a couple bills. They were discreetly carrying knives because they were opening a wood carving stand a block over, Namjoon explained later. Yoongi was quite the unamused listener.

There was another time in his already awfully long life when Yoongi himself was found caught in the middle of a fight between a Minecraft gamer and a ballerina carrying a flower vase, but that was a long story where it finally ended with him being released from custody as soon as the police had determined his innocence.

Or that other glitch in his simulation of a life when he had to bring nine cats home with him after work. Yoongi never knew he had a cat allergy, but he learned it the hard way that night as he sneezed so hard for so long till he couldn’t hear anything out of his ears.

So when Yoongi is feeling something in the air tickle his nugget of a brain that he should skip his ritual milkshake tonight and head on home right away to avoid whatever this coming disturbance is, Yoongi does what Yoongi does best, and he ignores his intuition because who cares, what Yoongi wants is his McFreaking milkshake.

Everything goes smoothly. Yoongi successfully orders a milkshake at the bar. He successfully receives the right order. He successfully starts to drink the milkshake in the quiet serenity of two am on a Monday. 

But then he fails to leave as soon as she comes in the door, the same girl who legitimately flings the entrance open like some wild animal and he is so horrified he can’t look away from this scene and makes the mistake of meeting your gaze.

The damage is done, however. He knows you’ve selected him as your prey among the barren tables save for one lady picking up fries togo and the waitress staring at you in fear.

“Lady, please get off me,” he groans, pulling your fingers off his biceps as if they’re blood hungry leeches. His arm is free for maybe a second before your fingers fly back, grip stronger than before and this time Yoongi really can’t do much with just the one tired, exhausted hand; the one that isn’t holding the milkshake glass. 

He’s whispering a string of curses and damnations at One Week Ago Yoongi for slacking with working out. Or any of his past Yoongis, really. He rests his head on the tips of his fingers, weighing down on his elbow angled onto the table.

“You don’t understand,” you wheeze dramatically, eyes round with terror. Uh, hello? I don’t care enough to understand, Yoongi mentally comments. “My parents, they-“

Sure, you might’ve been exaggerating everything a little, but what’s a little show and extravagance when your damn life is on the line? A matter of life and death knows no tranquility.

He looks at you half lidded; boredom and ‘are you really still talking to me Ican’tbelievetheaudacity’ washing over his face doing a whole awful lot to create a grave aura around him. You can physically see the deathly ash gray energy come off him in waves like something from an anime.

At this point, Yoongi’s thinking he might just ditch you, make a run for it to never see your crazy ass again and the idea is so tempting but instead, he responds. He’s not too sure why, although it’s probably ‘cause he’s paid an awful lot for this deliciously overpriced milkshake that has yet to be completely consumed. But the fact of the matter is he does respond, even thought you’re clearly not in the right state of mind and he really should be telling you to go home.

“Listen, they’re not gunna care if your boyfriend’s a bum. It’s your life anyways, why would they care?” Yoongi notices he’s got about another sip or two of his milkshake and then he can hightail it outta this joint and a certain spazz grabbing onto him.

You let go of his arm, thinking maybe you came off a little too strong and run your hands over your hair to pat down the flyaways contributing to the messy, crazed look.

“Now, I really absolutely must get going… miss,” Yoongi has finished his drink with a content sigh, a little disappointed that the experience was partially ruined with your improv tug of war, but content nonetheless. “Don’t worry, I’ll go ahead and take care of your water,” he reassures you dryly and stands up from the bar’s long legged chair, grabbing his expensive leather jacket. The best purchase he’s ever made in his life, he tends to overshare this fact to anything or anyone with two ears and legs, seeing as how he wears it everyday through wind, rain and the scorching heat.

Your eyes flash in one last lunge of desperation and your integrity flies out the window and disappears into the sky like a balloon. Floating away… peacefully, gone forever till all that’s left is your soulless body embarrassing yourself like this on a Monday at two am.

“Please,” you choke out one last time and sincerity taints your voice, everything you’ve depended on relying on this thin line of his consent. 

There’s something about it that Yoongi finds himself hesitating for as his mind reels from the way your fingers grip the end of his jacket sleeve. 

“I really, truly only need your help for a couple days. I-I’ll even pay you.”

Your eyes dart to the floor from his face with your final push, unable to face rejection one last time from help you so ridiculously need. His body halts, and with this, you take it as a sign for your fingers to relax and stop holding his like some child refusing to let go of their lollipop. 

There’s one thing the weary should know, and it’s that one specific thing hits a chord with Min Yoongi that makes him who he is.

“Shit.”

Hana looks up at you in what seemed like concern and a bit of ‘damn, you live like this?’ tainting her face. You keep going back and forth between looking down at your most recent message on your phone and up to her face, still contorted in confusion unable to face the reality that is your life right now.

You’re not okay, this can’t be happening — everything you had worked up for up until this point, only to be destroyed by your parents’ wrath would be the endgame for your life. You need to lie down and forget this day even happened.

“Are you, okay?” She can’t help but emphasize the ‘okay’ with leaning her head in a tilt.

“Hana,” you squeak out, hands pressed against your eyes till you see stars. It’s late, you’re braincell-less from such last minute studying and you’re absolutely, completely fucked. And not in the nice way you normally would want to be.

“My parents are coming over and want to meet Jungkook.”

Hana lets out a strangled gurgle of terror from the back of her throat as she runs her hands through her dark hair and crawls over to you to peer at your phone screen. Now that she knows you’re fucked, you want to throw your phone out the window and run away. Or just throw yourself out the window. You stand up from your sitting position on the floor and take deep breaths counting to ten and back again.

“Oh my god,” she whispers. “You’re screwed.”

You twist your face and tell her, “Thank you so very much for the vote of confidence! I’ll just have to remember that while trying to explain everything to my parents.”

Hana’s pained smile emits an apologetic vibe as she continues to voice her thoughts. “Damn. Seriously though… what’re you gonna do, I mean. You still have… two days?”

“I don’t even know anymore,” you wail, falling back to the floor and hoping it’ll somehow open up, and take your body into the recesses of the earthy ground. “Is a day or two even enough time for him to come back from that trip?”

“Wait, you mean you would have your parents actually meet him?” Hana looks over at you incredulously. “Like, we’re talking about your boyfriend Jeon Jungkook, right?”

Backtrack – So, okay, yes maybe you had a few flaws. One of them was the fact that you were maybe a little too prideful. As in it’d physically pain you for your parents to know that your boyfriend was a bum who did absolutely nothing.

You had lied to your parents from the very beginning, pulling off the scam with a few explanations here and there saying, “Oh, no he’s too shy. He won’t take pictures!” when your parents wanted to see who this guy was. The occasional “He can’t meet up with us because he’s studying for his very big exam haha you know how these studious nerds are sorry!”

You wince from her tone, speaking as if he’s a demon sent from hell, and start collecting strands of your hair to comb through with worry.

“I mean, if he were here I could play him up as the guy I made him out to be,” you mused. “They don’t even know what he looks like. Probably think he’s afraid of cameras, poor baby.”

Hana looks slightly revolted from your gently verbalized “uwu” and snaps her fingers to garner your attention back onto the matter at hand.

“Wait- I,” you sat back up, all the blood rushing this way and that causing a weird feeling to consume you and you see black for a good three seconds before it dissipates. “Don’t judge me for what I’m about to say.”

“Done,” Hana nods. “I live with you and judge you enough already.”

You look at her unimpressed, lips curled into an unamused smile.

“How about I get a fake boyfriend? Like, right now?”

Hana doesn’t even know where to begin she laughs because she thinks you’re literally joking but then stops when she knows you’re not. “Uh, you do realize it is two am, Y/N. Where are you planning on going to look for an accomplice to role play your perfect boyfriend?”

“Honestly speaking, I’ll probably have to go to a bar or something.” Just saying this out loud was enough to acknowledge that you yourself were not thinking straight.

“You’re just going to walk into a bar and pick up the first dude you lay eyes on is what you’re implying…” Hana trails off, as she begins to re-evaluate the situation. “Are you okay?”

“No,” you sigh, brushing off your jeans as you stand up. “But this is my only option.”

“Well, you could always tell the truth to your mom and dad. You don’t have to be so full of it, Y/N. And listen, you’re 20 going on 21… how much longer are you going to hide this from your parents? You’re literally an adult.”

You frown and start walking out of the room, grabbing a jacket before you head outside and to the car. “I’m not full of it,” you defend your poor self. “I just need my parents to think I’m living my best life with the best boyfriend so they don’t rub in how they were right all this time or whatever overprotective shit they wanna pull on me.”

Hana holds up her hands as an act of surrendering and picks up your phone from the floor to hand it to you. Before it’s passed off however, a pinging sounds and she calls out the notification.

“Your mom texted you to say–“ Hana squints from how dark your phone’s lighting is. “They’re actually planning on starting to drive over tonight and should make it here by tomorrow evening?”

You start to panic, countless thoughts crashing the calm of your mind like stormy waves as you start to assess your problem at hand. You need to find a fake boyfriend, said fake boyfriend must learn what must be learned about you and said fake boyfriend will need to do a good enough job to keep your parents away forever and hopefully this will work because you don’t know what you’ll do the next time your parents come to “check up” on you because they think something’s fishy with this hypothetical fake boyfriend.

You let out what sounds like something between a sob and a groan as you snatch the phone from Hana’s hands and run out of the house, debating between driving to the nearest diner or running away from home.

See, the problem with your parents were that they were overbearing to the point that they even hated the fact you decided to attend college out of state. Mind them, it was only one state away, but it did absolutely nothing to soothe their constant fretting over your wellbeing and life. You were fed up with the relentlessly strict parental control and went crazy in college – finally dating, drinking and partying – although it was still at a good minimum.

To expose to your parents that you were dating an undecided major who spent the money he could scrounge around for on video games was a one-way ticket to hell so in order to save face and keep up the façade that you in fact were living your best life possible, you dreamt up of the littlest, white lie.

Your boyfriend was a perfect boy. One grade above you, one his way to graduating as a summa cum laude. He had an internship and was already guaranteed a job after college as a biomedical engineering major. You painted the perfect picture so you could present yourself in the best way possible to your parents.

The way your hard work was about to be shattered by the way so many coincidences piled on top of each other was a bit frustrating to say the least. You weren’t sure how you kept this a secret for so long and frankly, how your parents didn’t doubt you from the start but now they believed him to be a camera shy, facetime shy boy that only spent his time studying.

You didn’t even want to start on the numerous occasions you and Jungkook had ended a night fighting because of this ridiculous situation, that sure, you put yourselves in. You weren’t sure why you did this, but of course it wasn’t because you were too prideful.

Yoongi never lets money slip out of his hands. Call him frugal, call him thrifty, he doesn’t care. He just knows that if it’s worth the price, he’ll do it.

“Fine. I’ll do this. But I want cash and I want half of the end amount right now,” he knows he’s being demanding and it does look like you reek of eau de poor college student but with the request you’re making, he thinks it’s only fair.

You look teeny tiny and exhausted from the way you crumple your body on the seat next to him and it’s annoying how much work you’re going through because of a simple lie, but you can’t back out now. The way you’ve been explaining the situation to him is really making you sound a little crazy but hey, you’re only human and this isn’t the weirdest situation Yoongi has ever been in.

“How is this even going to work?” Yoongi looks at you as if you haven’t thought this far ahead. “Haven’t they seen his face? Is he even okay with this? Are you running a scam show? If this turns out to be a mess, I want no part of the repercussions.” He squints at you and crosses his arms, eyeing you suspiciously.

“I’m not stupid,” you roll your eyes and scrunch your face from irritation. “They’ve never seen pictures or anything of his face. I’m thankful my boyfriend doesn’t have social media, but I mean, even if he did my parents are technologically inept, anyways.”

“This is so extra, this is like, almost kind of idiotically stupid,” with a snort, Yoongi continues to doubt you. “I can’t believe I agreed to this. You better pay me the remaining amount as soon as this shit’s done. I’ve got things to do.”

“I’m sure you have so much stuff to do concerning your things,” you bite back and have to hold steady the urge to punch his weak looking noodle arm. Just keep thinking about how grateful you are that this sort of handsome spawn of the devil is agreeing to save your ass and livelihood.

He huffs and has the audacity to look offended, loosely crossing his arms across his chest. “Whatever, run this by me again.”

“Okay,” you sigh. You nearly teeter off the edge of the stool from sleepiness, an untouched glass of water in front of you and you watch the droplets trickle down the sides of the condensating cup. “My name is Y/N and yours is Jeon Jungkook. I’m 20 and you’re 21…”

You start to list off factual information and the details get a little blurry as they re-enter his mind because now it’s almost 3:20 in the morning and Yoongi just wanted a fucking milkshake but now it’s like he’s in college all over again, cramming all the notes and tidbits of information he can into his mind to purge it in five hours on the dreadful test. Even though Yoongi’s suffering, he starts noticing these things about you that’s definitely a little confusing to him and gets him a little worked up but in all the right ways.

He pays attention to the way when you laugh you move to cover your mouth with your hand, it’s kind of endearing. Sure, he’ll admit he thought you were pretty behind the air of desperation and super strange vibes you let out when you first marched into the door. Like, perhaps very pretty. He’s not sure but it might be something to do with the shape of your eyes and the pink of your lips. But the tendency you have to tilt your head when you smile is something that Yoongi starts noticing too and–

Yoongi catches himself thinking these thoughts that are so out of bounds and unnecessarily loud. It’s okay, he mentally argues. These are fake boyfriend feelings and it is late. I am exhausted, I don’t know what I am talking about.

And there you have it folks. Yoongi solves this problem of the Case of Weird Emotions with a simple answer. He’s just a really good fucking actor and can get into character so well that he starts thinking the way his character would. That’s all. And now Yoongi is mentally punching himself because he sounds really fucking weird. And fuck, he needs to stop cursing because he needs to be a well polished, dapper, perfect boyfriend.

He shudders and you see it, not because you’ve been looking at him but because he does it in a really obvious way that calls for attention in your peripheral vision.

“Are you alright?” You ask warily, eyeing him because what if he’s having a spasm attack holy shit?

Yoongi grunts with his absurdly deep voice and says, “Yeah, go on.”

“I wish we had more time,” you whine, rubbing your probably bloated face with sweater paws and something tickles Yoongi’s heart from the way you look and speak although he does his best to ignore it.

“It’s okay, I’ll remember this, I’m pretty sure… let’s just try and come up with a code word or something for me. Like, if I don’t know something I’ll say or do something and you’ll cover for me.”

You nod your head and for the first time that night it seems like you really smile and it’s cute, but not cute enough to swindle Min Yoongi’s heart. Of course not.

“Do you know how to crack your fingers?” You ask after a few moments of deep contemplation.

Yoongi suddenly looks small because he’s shoving his hands in between his thighs to cover them from the cold and you almost coo as he nods his head yes.

“Great,” you look away from his figure to calm yourself. “Just do that and then I’ll fill in. That’s the signal.”

“Does this mean we’re done now?” Yoongi’s voice has gotten raspy over the span of time you’ve spent with him because of how he spent most of it just listening to you and barely opened his mouth.

“I dunno,” you nervously gnaw on your lower lip, another habit Yoongi has picked up on fondly. Or not fondly, not at all… at least only fondly with fake boyfriend feelings. “I’m really not sure how this is going to turn out. Thankfully my friend is going to stay at a friend’s house to avoid more possible complications.”

“Alright then, give me a call tomorrow morning and I’ll get over to your place by two in the afternoon.”

You shake your head, “No, come earlier. We need as much time as possible to go over this. Remember? They’re arriving sometime that night.”

Yoongi groans from the revolting sentence he has just been forced to hear and he cries, “But I can’t! You’ve kept me up for this long evil lady, I should’ve been in bed falling asleep hours ago!”

“I’m sorry,” you feebly offer. “But I really need to nail in a lot more with you.”

Yoongi grumbles a wide variety of things under his breath comprised of but not limited to, “You’re lucky you’re cute”, “Fuck, I need a good ten hours of sleep to retain all this information, though” and “Damn it, I want my money”.

“Fine– 11 is the earliest I’ll be there. And are you sure you’re okay with giving me your freaking address? You’re going to let a stranger know where you live and you’re fine with it,” Yoongi lowers his tone towards the last bit in uncertainty.

“I’ll be fine because my roommate is a police force trainee who has armed me with a panic button along with pepper spray. You’ve been warned,” you wiggle your brows. “Plus you’re my fake boyfriend and you want the money. I’ll see you tomorrow at eleven.”

You both get up from your chairs, leaving cash tips and Yoongi’s expression changes into one of respect and newfound admiration.

“Duly noted,” he chuckles as he holds the door open for you to walk through, the brisk, autumnal air enveloping you.

Outside in the parking lot you head towards your car and see only a couple other vehicles, one of them being a motorcycle and you don’t think twice about it till Yoongi is waving goodbye to you as he walks in the direction of it.

“Wait,” you call out and Yoongi immediately halts, turning to face you with an expectant raise of his brow. “That’s your ride?” You point at the motorcycle.

He smirks and shoves his hands into his leather jacket as deep black as the galaxy and his hair swirls around from the wind above his twinkling eyes.

“Isn’t she beautiful?”

You groan, wondering if you have enough money to fork up however much it would cost to rent a car. You’re pretty sure you don’t, but if it’s for this boy, the best you could pick out on a quiet Monday morning at two, the cream of the crop, you’ve really got no other choice.

You just hope this cream of the crop has a license to drive a car.

The next morning you wake up at eight, sitting up in your plush bed as memories of last night flood your mind in horror. Restless sleep tightened your neck through the night, stress eating away at you and your ability to sleep peacefully.

You groan, peeking at your alarm clock and take a deep breath before you whip your hair out of your face and harden your resolve by sheer will. You pull of the covers and step out of your room, trailing for the kitchen in order to brew yourself some deeply needed coffee.

“Coffee first,” you mumble. Priorities.

Hana is sitting in the living room, a mug on the coffee table in front of her. She looks up as soon as she sees you enter from the short hallway.

“Mornin’ sunshine, there’s some coffee left for you,” she chippers cheerfully. “You got up pretty early. You’re meeting the man of the hour soon, right?”

“Meh, don’t remind me,” you grumble, shuffling into the kitchen and from the coffee machine, you see her kick her slippers off and finish the last of her homework. You pour the still hot liquid holy grail into your Totoro mug and start to mix in cream and sugar seeing as how you’re not as abhorrent as Hana with her love of black coffee.

“But damn, you were just a wreck last night,” Hana teases. “I can’t believe you really got someone to do something this crazy for a girl they just met.”

“It was the money,” you point out, sipping the first few tastes of coffee. It needs a bit more sugar. “I’m so fucken exhausted! Listen, I don’t even have that kind of money to pay him.” You can hear your stash of hidden cash for emergencies underneath your drawer already crying for help. This could qualify as an emergency, you doubtfully suppose.

Hana is still recovering from the surprise of hearing your insane plan worked, even if she found out last night. You remember how you entered the house, satisfied with how quote on quote smoothly the ordeal went even if you were about to be $600 short on money and stressfully sleep deprived the next morning. Hana walked out of her room with sleepy eyes and a bit of bedhead to you getting ready for bed so early in the morning, although she gained a bit of consciousness after hearing how your plan had indeed, succeeded.

Now that it’s the morning and your adrenaline rush had bled away and you’re in a clearer state of mind, doubt starts to trickle in and you are wondering what in hell you were thinking in the first place. You shake the thoughts away and focus on the task at hand.

“I’ll be getting out of the house soon,” Hana comments, starting to pack up whatever textbooks and notes she’ll need for the next day or two.

“You’re the amazingest,” you gratefully smile at her and try to convey your upmost sincerity. As best you could, at least.

“Yes,” she agrees mindlessly. “I am, aren’t I? I am so amazing—so amazing that I am literally leaving the apartment that I share with you for you and the stranger to bond and learn how to role play as lovers. It sounds crazy, I know, but here we are.”

Your smile fades away as you look at her in playful disbelief. “Go to your room, pack your granny underwear and your granny clothes, and leave this household!”

Hana scrunches her nose in distaste, “They’re not granny clothes! They’re retro! And thongs or whatever strip of fabric you claim are underwear are so uncomfortable, literally leavemealonegoodnightDevil!”

You laugh as she prances to her room to stuff her duffle bag full of clothes she’ll need in order to survive for the time she’s gone and you glance at the clock to see it read 8:30, and you go off to your room to get ready for the very. Incredibly. Extremely, long day ahead.

It is at ten that you have finished cleaning up your room, taken a quick shower and waved off Hana out of the home you two share. You walk back inside after seeing her depart safely promising to text you when she arrives, even though it’s the daytime and she’s just a good ten feet away, you never know what could happen. Even if she’s almost a police officer. 

Which, speaking of, she has reminded you countlessly about, telling you to pass on the message that she will personally come to fuck him up if anything happens to you. You appease her with saying you will, but you sure as hell don’t plan on doing so. 

Closing the door, you sigh deeply and it leaves you a little lightheaded as you lean your back against the door.

“Oh, shit.”

It hits you then that this is really happening. Like, your idiotic plan your brain thought up of that you thought was foolproof was really happening. There were so many holes that could expose you in a second and the thought of you being ousted in front of your parents tugged at your pride riddled mind.

The anxiety twitches your fingers as you pull up your phone and it leaves you staring at his message from last night.

yoongi: see u at 10:30

You forget he suddenly promised an earlier time at the last minute and you reckon you’ve got yourself about twenty or so minutes for him to show up at your door. It’s enough time for you to beat your face with makeup and put on some presentable clothes.

At 10:30 sharp he arrives at the door and it catches you by surprise because he doesn’t seem to be an advocate for timeliness. You tug down at your cropped sweater one last time before you open the door to see Yoongi in all his slightly bloated, freshly showered glory.

He looks a bit nervous, seeing as how he kept worrying over this very situation he should never have gotten himself into over the night not to mention what if you sent him the wrong address. Yoongi’s eyes flit from your face to the room behind you but he manages to keep his jittery 

“Hey,” you sigh in relief. “Thank goodness you’re here. And thanks for coming so early.”

Yoongi loses a bit of the nervousness in his system and seems a bit more relaxed than he was when you first met him, probably because he’s gotten a better grip of his surroundings than last night, when he was completely hit with a curveball. In the face. At 500 miles per hour. In the form of you. HIs face loses the tension in the muscles and his lips take on a nonchalant smile. You also notice he’s wearing the same leather jacket as last night and you wonder if he has anything else available to wear.

“No worries,” he says in that gruff voice of his but he clears his throat quickly and yeah, you notice he’s still pretty high strung. This whole tribulation is probably a first for him too.

“Come on in,” you gesture inside, and make space for him to make through. Not that he needed much anyways being the tiny man he is.

“Alright,” he mutters, stepping into the apartment and slipping off his shoes. He doesn’t really pay attention to the apartment anymore but rather your outfit. You wearing sweatpants that still hug your legs and figure looks really good with the bit of skin exposed under the hem of your cropped Adidas sweater and Oh my God shut up, he scolds his train of thought.

It’s just that psychology of attraction at first sight, or whatever. Sure, it’s not his first time meeting you, sure, but you two have only recently met. Yoongi is certain he is a man of strong will. He would never let himself start feelings these things for someone who is already in a relationship.

He tears his gaze away from you before you can notice his burning stare and starts to run his eyes over the layout.

“Well,” you laugh strangely, trying to cover your skittishness. “This is where I live. I guess we can run over what we talked about last night over there on the couch.”

You point at the black sofa and Yoongi nods, walking over to sit down stiffly.

“Did you want something to drink?” You ask, noticing the way he stays pretty quiet. This won’t do. Your fake boyfriend is a great conversationalist.

“No, I’m fine, let’s just go over what we have to. I don’t wanna mess up…” Yoongi trails off and a hint of concern tinges his voice as you smile.

“Sounds good,” you agree.

“Okay, first things first,” you start reciting the basics as you are sat next to him. Yoongi does a really good job of staying on task at first, he swears. He’s listening intently but all of a sudden he’s thinking about how sweet and pretty your voice is and next thing he knows he’s thinking about how hard it is to just even meet your gaze, because your eyes are just such a wonderful outlet of all your emotions it’s really hard to meet them and not just go on and dive into the pool that is you and then—

“We might have to gel your hair back,” you muse softly and Yoongi is shaken out of his schoolboy crush-like trance.

“Fuck no. No,” Yoongi is firm with his decision, holding his hand out to emphasize his stance. “The forehead stays covered.”

You can’t help but let out a laugh as you cover your mouth with your hand and say, “Fine.”

Yoongi notices once again how you have a habit of doing that when laughing and he hates how it’s pretty adorable. 

“How did you get here, anyways?” You ask suddenly. “Not with your bike, I hope…?”

Yoongi grins at you and you notice that he’s one of those gummy grinners and it does a little something to you but you avoid it at all costs and swallow it down.

“I Ubered here,” he said simply. “I figured I could say my car’s in the shop if your parents ask.”

You widen your eyes and nod in approval. “Brilliant! That’s really good Yoongi, thank God I don’t have to pay for a rent a car.”

“Speaking of payment,” Yoongi is reminded of your debt to him at the passing mention of money but is glowing from your praise. “Need I say more? Don’t worry about the Uber fee, I won’t be holding those against you, call it service.”

“How kind of you,” you grimace, hearing the cries of your emergency money once more, as you tell him to stay put. “I’ll be right back with half of it.”

When you count out 300 and carefully tuck the rest away, you turn around to walk out only to see Yoongi peering in your door, arms crossed and looking quite interested.

You jump at the sudden intrusion-like non-intrusion and scowl, asking, “What are you doing here? You scared me shitless and you’re very lucky I didn’t shriek.”

He shrugged, tousling his dark hair from his eyes and replied, “If I’m gonna be your fake boyfriend, I should know what your room looks like. As your fake boyfriend, of course.”

You groan and tell him, “Get a good, quick look around, because here’s your money and now we’re leaving.” You slap the wad of cash onto his unsuspecting palm and push his shoulders out the door.

“I know you kind of know me because of all the information I might’ve been burning into your mind the past 24 hours about yours truly, but I barely know a thing about you and we’re really acquaintences at best, still.”

Yoongi lets you lead him out of the hall into the living room and with a quick look at your lockscreen, you see that it’s still only 11:14. He stuffs the money in the back pocket of his jeans, which fit him quite nicely around the thigh area, if you may say so yourself. 

“Fine,” he mutters and you barely catch it with your already dull hearing.

“What’s fine?” You ask, sitting down on the sofa as he takes a seat as well.

“I said, fine. What do you wanna know about me?” He asks, finding interest in the boring coffee table.

“Uh,” you trail off, unprepared for this kind of a question. “Wait, do I want to know more about you? I should be thinking of you as my boyfriend Jungkook, putting history and information behind you would make it too easy for me to differentiate…”

Yoongi rolls his eyes with a condescending sigh that you somehow know isn’t very genuine. “Just ask three things about me, so we’re not complete strangers,” he offers a compromising deal.

You let it sit with you for a second. If you made a slip up would you be able to recover? It was already hard enough, calling him Yoongi—already so hard enough that it was weird to remind yourself you’d have to be calling him Jungkook in a few hours. Eh, screw it.

“Where do you work?” You ask your first question tentatively.

“I work as a part time server for now,” he replies as if it’s something of a bother. “At the barbecue place downtown.” You have a brief idea of where it is, having passed by it a few times while you were in the vicinity.

“Alright,” you huffed. “What’s your other part time?”

Yoongi looks a bit confused at first with the way you worded it, but he catches on quickly seeing as how he’s got a fast train of thought.

“Oh, yeah. You remember my bike? I wanna go into autotech service. Or something like that, like engineering,” he vocalizes his thoughts and grows a bit red.

“That’s really awesome,” you smile at him and he grows comforted by the idea of you approving his passion. Although he shouldn’t be so—

“Do you have a girlfriend?” This question takes you back by surprise too, and you swear it was a slip of your tongue.

“I—“ Yoongi wasn’t ready, didn’t even think you were one bit interested in his love life but he answers directly. “No.”

For some reason you like hearing that answer, something like satisfaction burns at your tongue and heart and you don’t understand why when you have a perfectly cute boyfriend named Jeon Jungkook (the real one) you can call yours.

“Sorry, I didn’t know where that came from,” you giggle nervously.

Yoongi brushes it off and breathes evenly. He’s not sure why he’s worked up uncomfortably like this and he wants to skip to the part where this is all over and he goes back to moping around, living out his normal, daily routine.

We are acquaintances, he keeps reminding himself.

You two end up talking about yourselves a bit more, because pictures of your dog reminds him of his dog and from there the conversation flows a little too perfectly because now you’re intrigued by the mystery that is Min Yoongi and you want to know more and everything about him. This goes on for the next six hours and it’s filled with so much talking and laughing and you’ve even cooked up lunch because oh my goodness you found ingredients to make pancakes.

Then dawn rolls around as if it’s only been a mere thirty minutes and to be honest, it feels likes you know Min Yoongi more than your own boyfriend Jeon Jungkook.

You shake that last thought off, startled from the way you so abruptly stated that. Internally, of course. 

Yoongi’s barely opened his mouth to ask you another question when-

The doorbell rings and it echoes throughout the inside of your home and holy shit it feels so intimidating and loud and Yoongi just isn’t ready, but can’t imagine how you’re feeling right now if he’s this scared of what’s to come. 

You glance at him almost as if you’re seeking refuge in someone’s comfort so he grits his teeth a bit because between the two of you, he realizes he’s got to stay the rock.

Yoongi narrows his eyes until they resemble somewhat to a feline’s. He’s the rock.

And not just in the Dwayne Johnson sort of way.

oooooookay oh my goodness this is unedited but i wanted it off my shoulders before i got to work so here this is please enjoy but send me feedback or anything you'd like through my inbox thanks!!!

[tokikurp]

Memories of a Better Time

Summary-  Left behind with broken hearts after a break up both, Kuroo and Daichi, try to sustain a friendship and bring back a bit of normality in their lives. It isn't as easy as they think when memories of happier times return to them, to remind them of what they once had.

Pairings- Kuroo Tetsurou x Sawamura Daichi (KuroDai) 

AU- Canon

Prompt- Getting together/Post Breakup

Word count- 2K

During my hiatus, I wanted to try something new. I saw the prompts for KuroDai week and an idea came to mind after looking at the prompts. 

And here we are 🎉

AO3

They’d been in love for so many years, they truly thought they were each other’s soulmates. Loving each other since the end of high school and all throughout college. Those five years were the best years of their lives and both of them thought there would be many more to come. They talked about marriage, about the places they wanted to go, things they wanted to do together. They imagined how their life would look like, it looked perfect to them. That they would be happy and be together forever.

But fate laughed at them and thought otherwise.

They grew apart from each other. They became so focused on their careers, they didn’t make time to spend time with each other. They thought they could manage their time and spend every chance they had together on their days off. They tried and tried for months, trying to figure out a schedule.

They began to fight more and more. The stress of work and the stress of trying to manage just one day together. They fought over small things, why was there a dish left in the sink? Why wasn’t the bed made? How could they forget that one item from the grocery store that wasn’t that important for dinner?

They began to feel more and more like roommates instead of lovers. And it hurt to think that way, but it was the reality they came to understand one day. That was the day they sat down and talked about how they’ve had been feeling for the past year. It was the talk that made them realize that they had grown apart and had fallen out of love with the other. They both cried as they talked it out, crying because they let themselves grow apart.

They ended their five year relationship that night, just a week shy of six years.

Daichi moved out the next day. He planned to stay with a friend until he would have found an apartment. Kuroo stayed in their apartment, but only until the lease’s end and then he would move out as well.

Breakups are hard, especially when it was with someone you truly loved.

And Daichi and Kuroo, had truly loved each other.

“Fuck. I should have cleaned this closet out more often. Bleh.” Kuroo said with a disgusting look on his face. “Where the fuck are those dress shoes anyway?”

Searching for his second pair of dress shoes, Kuroo climbed further into his closet.

“How do you manage to find any clothes in there, Tetsu? It looks like a black hole.” Kenma commented, looking into the messy closet.

“Well!” Kuroo called out. “I keep the clothes I usually wear in my bathroom, because I shower in the mornings before work.”

“So you don’t even touch your closet?”

“No, but I probably should- shit is that a spider? Shit, I can’t tell! Oi Kenma, hand me my phone! I can’t tell if this is a spider or not!” Kuroo called out, very concerned about what’s possibly in front of him.

“Doesn’t your closet light work?” Kenma asked, looking up at the light in the closet.

“...It broke.” The blond rolled his eyes, going to search for his friend’s phone.

“How do you even manage to take care of yourself?” He asked, handing the phone to Kuroo (who nodded in thanks).

“Oi! I do manage to take care of myself, I’m still alive aren’t I? I can cook my own meals.” Kuroo called out, turning on the flashlight app. “Oh it was a fuzzy.”

Kenma rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Are you sure it’s not a dustbunny?”

“It’s not that dusty!”

“...”

“...Okay it’s not THAT dusty!” Kuroo called out as he went in further. “Where the fuck are those damn dress shoes!”

“If you don’t hurry, we’re going to be late for rehearsal and you’re one of Daishou’s best men.” Kenma reminded while looking at the time. Kuroo groaned, damn it. Why did that snake have to ask him to be one of his best men at his wedding?

“I know, I know! I’m looking- AH HA! FOUND THEM! OW!” Kuroo announced as he stood up on his knees and shot his arms up in the air with his shoes in hand. But he hit something and it fell square on his head, and it wasn’t light either. Something hard and wooden maybe?

“Oh my god, Tetsu. Don’t hurt yourself.” Kenma groaned. Kuroo threw his shoes out  as he climbed out with whatever fell on his head. Kenma picked the shoes up as a grumbling Kuroo came out and sat down, flipping over the large canvas.

“What the fuck is this any...way.” Kuroo hissed, but slowed down when he saw what it was. His facial expression turned sad as he stared down at two paintings that had been glued together. A painting of two wine glasses that made it look like it was one, red and white wine being poured into the glasses. Kenma looked over his shoulder with a raised eyebrow.

“The right side looks good, but why the fuck does the left side look like shit?” He asked. Kuroo stared at it, running his hand over the right side, the white wine being poured into the glass. That side actually looked like what it was supposed to be and it looked damn good. But the other side, well...looked like someone had one too many glasses of red wine.

“Daichi and I painted these a couple of years ago.” Kuroo spoke.

“...Oh.” Kenma whispered. “Tetsu, I didn’t mean-”

“Daichi painted the right side and I attempted to do the left side. It’s fine, I kind of did that on purpose.” Kuroo chuckled, setting the painting aside against the wall as he stared at it. “Koushi bought us a couple’s painting session at a paint studio for our anniversary. I thought it was stupid, but I went because it was a gift and Dai really wanted to go. Plus there were free drinks so I went.”

“I put very little effort into my side, but damn did he put all of his into his side.”

“Your side looks like a five-year-old painted that.” Kenma commented. The former middle blocker nodded, yeah it did. He wasn't going to deny that. It really did look like a five-year-old had painted that.

“Daichi was trying to get me to properly paint and that’s why the flower vase actually looks good. Because he made me do that.” Kuroo laughed. That night was really fun, getting to paint and talk with other couples. Laughing with other people who were as drunk as Kuroo was.

And the drinks were the bomb.

Kuroo sighed and stood up, taking the shoes from Kenma. He sat on his bed and started to put his dress shoes on.

“Come on, Kenma. We’re going to be late.” Kuroo said as he put one foot down and started to put the other one on. “Don’t need the snake to bite me for being late.”

“Tetsu, are you okay?”

“Yeah I’m fine. Just...you know. I’m fine.” Kuroo answered as he stood up. Kenma nodded as he followed him out of the room. He’d known Kuroo for his whole life and knew when something was bothering Kuroo. The couple painting brought back memories of when him and Daichi were still together. Tomorrow night, Kuroo would be one of the best men that stood along side of Daishou as he’d marry Mika.

It had been over four months now since Daichi and him had ended their relationship. As they entered the wedding venue, Kenma rubbed his childhood friend’s back.

“It’ll be okay. You’ve got this.” Kenma said in a gentle voice as he went to go sit down. Kuroo watched, but knew what he meant.

“Yeah, I’ll be okay.”

“Great, you showed up. I thought you would be the last to arrive.” Daishou said with a smirk on his face.

“Well, I was trying to be last tonight, but I’ll try and make sure to be late tomorrow.” Kuroo responded as he smirked back at the groom-to-be.

“AND THEN! Just as we’re about to submit all of our reservations and hotels, hell even our plane tickets, THE POWER GOES OUT! And guess what happened when it came back on!”

“You and Keiji had to start allllll over.”

“YEAH! AND THAT TOOK HOURS TO DO!” Bokuto groaned. Their friends laughed as Akaashi sighed, that had been a long night. “But we managed to get everything fixed and our anniversary trip to Sweden is official!”

“Even if we were up until almost two in the morning. But everything is planned and we’re ready for Sweden.” Akaashi smiled, very excited about the upcoming trip. “Terushima, how was your trip with Misaki?”

“Oh tone of fun!” Terushima answered as him and Hana became to explain how their recent trip to Osaka had been.

“I feel like the awkward third-wheel.” Daichi mumbled, turning away from the couples and back to his food. Kuroo nodded, looking up from his food.

“Yeah, I agree.” He agreed, taking a bite of his food. The two men toned out the couples as they talked about the trips they took or were about to take. Some of them even talking about trips they want to take in the future. “So uh...how’s work been going, Daichi?”

“Hmmm? Good, I’ve been busy lately. How about you?” Daichi answered with a nod. “How have you been lately? Bokuto showed me a picture of you standing at the altar at Daishou’s wedding. You looked nice.”

“Thanks, it was a nice wedding. She looked beautiful.” Kuroo thanked while nodding. “I’ve been doing good. Busy. Um, work has been keeping me busy. We’ve been researching and experimenting on a couple of things. I’ve been doing the researching part and eh, it’s been okay.”

“Right, you like experimenting more than researching.” Daichi chuckled, taking a bite of his food. The two men nodded at each other and kept eating, trying to find something to talk about. Or try and jump into the conversation that the group was having.

Still talking about trips.

“So um, I recently found that painting we did a couple of years ago.” Kuroo brought up. Probably not a good idea, but it was better than just sitting in silence.

“The one with the wine glasses?” Kuroo nodded. Daichi chuckled, taking a sip of his water. “You’re side was terrible.”

“Yeah I know. Kenma said it looked like it was painted by a five-year-old.” Kuroo chuckled.

“Do you remember what I said about it?”

“Daichi, I was drunk off my ass. I remember shit.”

“I said a three-year-old painted that. Five-year-old is generous.” Daichi smirked.

“Sounds ‘bout right.” Kuroo nodded. “Yeah I recently found it. Do you uh...do you want your half? It’s a nice piece and I just don’t want to get rid of it because of that.”

Daichi didn’t say a word, but shook his head. “No, it wouldn’t look the same without the other half. You can do whatever with them.”

“Okay um okay. Um, that was a fun night.”

“Yeah, it was a fun night.” Daichi agreed as Kuroo nodded. The two went back to eating their food and listening to everyone talking; trying to find a place where they can jump in.

“Mmmmmm!” Daichi groaned as he stretched, how long had he been working on his presentation for? He had no idea and didn’t even want to think how long he’s been working on this paper. But he should probably get up and just walk around for a few minutes before going back to the presentation. Why did his boss have to give him this responsibility for the very important company business meeting on Thursday.

“What time is it?” Daichi asked as he stood up. “It has to be at least dinner time.”

He walked away from his kitchen table and walked over to his coffee table, where his phone laid. Picking up his phone he rubbed his eyes as he woke his phone up and noticed not one, but two things.

The first thing being that it WAS dinner time!

The second thing being that he still hadn’t changed his lockscreen. He frowned, sitting down on his couch as he stared at the picture of him and Kuroo. Daichi could only guess what time of day it was, maybe it was morning? He knew they were still in college, he remembered that. He was the one taking the picture while Kuroo was leaning over him, kissing Daichi on the cheek. They looked like shit and probably had been drinking the previous night.

But it was one of Daichi’s favorite picture of them and that hadn’t changed since that day. That had been over four years ago. How much they’d changed over those four years and what had changed since then.

Daichi sighed, standing up from the couch and headed back over to his kitchen table. Quickly saving his work, before he headed out the door to grab dinner. He needed to change it the lock screen since…

He came up to a ramen shop and placed his order to go. While waiting, he scrolled through his photos to find a new picture to replace his lock screen with. But as he scrolled, he realized he didn’t go through his pictures and deleted their pictures. Guess he threw himself into his work that he forgot about all the pictures.

Daichi sighed and put his phone down. He’ll have to go through them later on, but not tonight. He needed to eat dinner and then finish his presentation.

“Sawamura-san!” Daichi stood up and took his food, thanking the workers before heading back home.

Maybe he should set his lock screen to a default image.

Kuroo stared at the wine painting.

Daichi stared at the lock screen.

They stared at the items many times during the past months.

It’s been nine months since the break up and it sucked. They’d been trying to be friends, meeting up a couple of times to have lunch or drinks. They enjoyed meeting up every now and then, but it just didn’t feel the same. Not like how they would make Thursdays the day they would meet up for lunch together.

A voice in the back of their heads has said the same thing over and over again.

“You miss him. Go back and work this out.”

Should they try and work things out? Would it work out this time? Would things get in the way again like it did the first time?

They stared at their phones with the messenger app open. Should he text him and ask to talk? Ask to try and work this out? He really did miss him, he missed everything about him. Their laughs, their smiles and smirks, the stupid jokes they told. Cooking dinner together and somehow not burning their food, because they ended up having a dance off in the middle of their kitchen.

Kuroo missed sending dumb text messages to Daichi, when he was literally right next to him on the couch. He missed falling asleep on Daichi’s thighs because he said they make the best pillow.

Daichi missed watching Kuroo read anything that involved having to wear his glasses, how handsome he looked while wearing them. Daichi missed using his shortness to his advantage against Kuroo. He even missed Kuroo’s terrible laugh.

They missed each other’s cuddles, each other’s kisses, each other’s smiles. They missed saying, “I love you” every single day.

They stared at their phones as their fingers danced across the keyboards.

[To Tetus (=`ω´=)]: Can we talk? [To Dai ♡]: Can we talk?

They both sent the same message at the same time. They were thinking the same thing;

I miss you.