#i’m yapping sorry but this movie won’t let GO of me

[persephonethewanderer]

judi dench during the press tour for skyfall said her character likes to keep “naughty boys in order” and like it was probably a joke but the familiar nature of her relationship with both james and raoul is embedded in the fabric of their dynamic. those are her two sons who she abuses and uses for a greater good that often benefits only her but that she cannot see because of the very familiar nature of that myopic relationship. she cares for them so she hurts them — sometimes irreparably, see raoul/tiago.

this is why skyfall resonates so much within the gothic genre, the gothic mechanism is the family. the very structure of it. which bond/m/silva perfectly encapsulates.

[jocelynscrazyideas]

Just friends? pt. 2 | Matt Rempe x Reader

pt. 1

Summary: making your way up to your dream job was difficult, but leaving it may be harder that ever.

Warnings: language, small portion of smut, eating, THE NOTEBOOK IS MENTIONED😛🥲

A:N- it’s really short but yuhh

━━━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━━

It’s been a good month of dating my bestfriend. I’m just scared that if anything goes wrong, that we wouldn’t be the same.

I’ve understood that when or I should say, If we breakup, we of course won’t be friends, but I wnat to talk. Keep up in life. Support him.

Matt has made it clear that it’s me, and only me. I know, dating an nhl player will be hard, because there is always someone out there thinking your boyfriend is cute.

“Dumper?” Matt calls out for me. I’m getting ready in his bathroom. Today, it’s the first day in off season. The rangers had won the third round of playoffs, but we didn’t make it to the end.

You might be wondering why Matt calls me dumper. It’s a long story, taht im glad to walks down with you.

~memory~

“Matt!” I groan as he thrusts into one last time. He releases into me, I feel I’m going to cum as well.

“You cum dump.” Matt laughs out. He cleans us up, and stands up to throw the tissues he used to clean up away. “I do not!” I yell out, I know I do. It makes sense to me.

Why would I cum in like five different times if I feel I’m going to release at one time?

Matt comes down onto me and kissed me from my knee up. He hits my neck and sucks down until I feel nothing.

“Nice hickey.” He chirps at me.

“Oh yeah? I wonder wher i hit it from.” I sarcastically joke with him. He gets hurts from that and lays down on my bare chest.

His brown hair all over.

It’s dark. Bedroom lights are off and the only thing lighting the house is the stars.

He cuddles into me for a few hours while I talk and yap about school, and when I should get my job.

~

“Where are you?” Matt yells for me.

“Bathroom! I have the interview today!” I let Matt know that I’m fully booked, and don’t have time for him.

“Well can we watch a movie tonight? Play some uno!” Matt asked me as he walks into the bathroom. His warm chest connects like a puzzle into my back. He leans into me and kissed my neck. He lays his fluffy hair into the crook of my neck. “I love you.” Matt whispers into my ear.

“Three months.” I say. I pushed him off my shoulder and cussed at him.

“Hey shithwsd?” I laugh at him.

“Hm?” Matt moans in his sleepy voice.

“Go shower. I’ll drive you down to the office.” I follow up. Matt has locker clean out today, many last minute interviews and press conferences.

~

I dropped Matt off at the arena and sat in my car.

Maybe he’s the one for me. The one guy that I won’t mess up with.

~

“Hey baby! How was the interview?” Matt asked me as I walk into the kitchen. Matt is cooking us some dinner and I set my purse down. I fall on the couch.

“That bad?” Matt questioned.

I felt my heart drop. How do I tell him, “No it was good… it’s the fact they don’t have an official employment spot for me here in New York. If I took the job, I would have to move to Wyoming.”

Yeah, no.

“Um, it went pretty well.” I replied, my high pitched cracky voice squeaked out. I think Matt knows I’m stressed. I’m sure I have actual sweat droplets swimming down in my face.

“You’re lying.” Matt looked down at me. He standing above me form the couch.

“No im not.” I laugh out. I stand up and dance with him back to the kitchen.

“Oh my love. My little baby.” I say as I rest my head into his chest. He smiles down at me and he picks me up.

“Give me.” Matt gestured to my foot as he set me down on the counter top.

I eye the stove that he left on. “What are we eating tonight?” I ask him. I try to distract myself.

God. Maybe I shouldn’t take the job.

He looks back at the side over his shoulder, and continues to take off my left shoe. My right foot is hanging and I kick him.

“Oh, uh I made some eggs, just so we could eat some toast and eggs. I was lazy, sorry.” Matt explained. He turned red in embarrassment.

“No. It’s perfect.” It’s the little things. I have to take things into consideration, not just the fact he does big gestures. He does this small thing that matters to me. Like, cooking dinner every night. Or just listening to me talk. Even if he doesn’t care, or deep down isn’t listening, he still looks like he cares.

Matt smirked and he dropped my left foot, only to un tie my right shoe. Once he finished he picked me up and kissed me. “What movie?” Matt asked me as I sit in our couch.

He plates everything into a large bowl and hands me a few slices of apples. “You’d be such a great dad.” I muttered.

“I’m sorry. A father?!” Matt exclaimed. He looks me up and down, smirking. Teeth out. His eyes look at me, I feel him leaving closer.

He grips onto a blanket as he sits down on the couch right beside me.

He turns the TV on to play the notebook.

~

I cried at the en of the movie. Matt holds me as he sleeps in my arms. He snores and he shakes as I weep and cry.

Matt looks up as his head rested on my breasts. “Are you okay? Why are you crying?” Matt mumbled. He rubs his eyes once he kissed my left boob.

He gets up and puts out dishes away. He cleans up the couch, and picks me up. “The movie that sad?” Matt asked me. I understand this season was hard so I let him sleep during the movie.

“You’ve never watched The Notevook?” I inferred, I look outside our window and Matt sets me down.

“I have, but I always fall asleep.” He looks at me and he pulls his clothes off. He’s left in his under set and I do the same. I unclamp my bra and lay in bed. I slide my panties off and lick them to the floor.

Matt fliers with me and he tightens his arms around me.

“I love you.” Matt reminded me, for the hundredth time.

“I have to move, if I take the job.” I let out.

Matt loosens his grip and he breaths in. “So take the job.” He said.

“It’s hard, but we can always fly out together.” Matt implied. We lay in bed. Not thinking about anything, well other than the fact I could leave.

Right when life gets good.

[samaraxmorgan]

HEYYYY OK SO THIS SHOULD BE A SHORT YAP (I'm a filthy liar)

OK SO IN ROOMIE SUKUNA, WHAT IF LIKE HE'S HOME ALONE WHILE WE HANG OUT WITH FRIENDS BUT THEN WE CALL HIM AND ASK HIM TO COME GET US BECAUSE ONE OF OUR FRIENDS FRIENDS IS MAKING US UNCOMFORTABLE AND SUKUNA WASTES NO TIME AND COME GETS US AND WHEN HE GETS THERE HE SEES THE GUY ACTIVIVLY TRYING TO GET OUR NUMBER AND ASK US OUT AFTER WE'VE ALREADY SAID NO SO SUKUNA BEING THE BIG BRAIN GUY THAT HE IS GOES OVER TO US AND GREETS US WITH 'Hey baby sorry I'm late, you ready to go?' AND WE'RE CONFUSED FOR A SEC BEFORE GOING WITH IT AND GOING 'Oh yeah, lets leave hun' AND ONCE WE'RE OUT OF THAT PLACE WE THANK SUKUNA AND SUKUNA PLAYS IT OFF AS NO BIG DEAL BUT IS INTURNALLY SCREAMING AND THEN HE WALKS US HOME AND WE WATCH A MOVIE TOGETHER OR SOMETHING I DON'T KNOW MAN HDSKJFNKSHFISJHFUWSYHFKDJHR8SHVIL (the sound of me bouncing off my room walls)

BYE HAVE A GREAT DAY/NIGHT :DDDDDDDD

/___/\ ꒰ ˶• ༝ - ˶꒱ ./づᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊°.~♡︎

kitty with a gun for you :D

HELLO BABE!!! GOOD TO SEE YOU!!

Omg so I actually have a fic VERY similar to that planned!!!! Not quite the fake dating thing but maybe if it fits I’ll end up adding that in!! The one I’m planning is gonna be a guy flirting with us at the bar and Sukuna fighting himmmmm, I won’t give any more spoilers shhhhhhh!!!

OKAY OKAY SO WITH YOUR SCENARIO, imagine this random ass friend of a friend REAALLLYY thinkin’ he’s shooting his shot, being such a CREEP like “I don’t see a ring on your finger” and so EUGH yknow? But the second Sukuna walks in he is TOWERING over this guy, steel toed boots on, big leather jacket, and him just being so huge and strong and covered in tattoos the guy just shrivels up immediately SKSKSKS HE KNOWS HE CANT COMPETE!!!

I feel like that would inflate Sukuna’s ego SO MUCH, he’d be grinning and laughing about it on the train ride home, calling himself “your big scary boyfriend” and as much as we wanna give him shit, him calling himself our boyfriend is giving us butterflies!!! Any time we tell him to shut up he just grins wider and eventually slumps an arm over our shoulders and mockingly says “what’s wrong babe?” And we are a blushing MESS. Little do we know his heart is racing and GOD he could get used to calling us that, wishing it didn’t have to be a joke

I hope you have a lovely dayyyyy !!!!

[dappledpaintbrush]

If it becomes more than a dream, what do you think a Super Paper Mario movie would be like?

Please write down everything you have to say, it doesn't matter if it's a 100 page essay I would like to read it.

When I finally get not only yapping permission, but also yapping endorsement

I think about the SPM movie a LOT. Not because I think it’s going to happen but because I’m insane. I also think it works better as a show, but I always must migrate to thinking of it as a movie lol. I talk a lot I’m gonna divide my thoughts into sections (Again, I’m turning off reblogs because reblogging an ask gets rid of the read-more, I’m sorry!! It’s for the best LMAO)

Rating:

I would LOVE if they addressed it like the FNAF movie. I remember people talking about how “oh it’s gonna be for kids because it’s a kid’s franchise and they’re gonna make more money if they made it for kids” but they made it PG-13 and. Everything was fine. They made a shit ton of money and everything was fine. Point is, I think SPM would work best as a PG-13 movie. And yeah it sounds like that one clip of SpongeBob and Patrick screaming in terror on a baby rollercoaster, but SPM does have elements that would be Difficult to put in a movie format and still make it rated PG. With the game, it can be passed off as cartoon mischief and thus be E for everyone, sure, but in a movie? I don’t see it. And let me clarify- I know they could make the hypothetical SPM movie be rated PG and still have its original plot, but I believe that is only if they cut down on a lot of things and make it very goofy and overall remove the heart of the story. But do I think it would be fucking PEAK as a PG-13 movie? Hell yeah. They could have a lot more leg-room to truly pay homage to the game, which is known as one of Mario’s darker stories for a good reason.

But do I believe they would make it PG-13? No. Definitely PG. Again, I know this is a Mario game and it’s not some super evil sick twisted story oh my god cover your eyes little timmy blah blah blah, but STILL. Pulling off some of its core scenes on the big screen where there’s SO much more detail in the animation and the voice acting etc etc etc would be hard to accomplish without making said scenes less impactful or even shallow. And if you still think I’m being dramatic, the mario movie is rated PG. The Mario movie. And all Mario did was get punched and got a bruise on his eye. I’m sure if there was a storyboard scene of him, Luigi, Bowser, and Peach getting set on fire and going to the afterlife, it would have been SCRAPPED. OR, it would have absolutely no emotion other than “erm… THAT just happened!” Take your pick.

All in all, if it were to happen, the SPM movie will lose some things. Nintendo would NEVER allow Mario to be in an PG-13 movie. It’s unfortunate :(

Speaking of the Afterlife:

Nintendo will have to cut out the Underwhere, Overthere, Grambi, and maybe even Luvbi and Bonechill. OR, completely revamp that whole thing to make it as religiously ambiguous as possible. No fucking doubt about it. At ALL. I can already see the change.org petition run by a Christian mother screaming at Nintendo for blaspheming God and making a joke out of heaven and hell “which are very real and you’re teaching kids it’s some silly fake thing in a fake Mario movie BUT NO PEOPLE HAS TO KNOW THEY WILL BURN FOREVER IF THEY DONT OBEY!!!” (Note: just in case it wasn’t obvious, I am mocking the Christian mother in the quotation marks). I’m surprised Nintendo even got away with it in the first place, ESPECIALLY regarding Luvbi and Bonechill. I put “maybe” regarding those two because it’s likely 2 and 2 won’t be put together about who inspired their characters, but at the same time. It probably will. Yeah it definitely will

Bonechill is directly inspired by Satan, and Luvbi makes indirect references to Jesus. Regarding Bonechill, to quote from his Wiki:

“Tippi's tattle says that Bonechill may have once been a Nimbi, which is supported by the fact that he has feathered wings on his back. This fits into the overall motif of The Underwhere and The Overthere, which draw heavily from both Ancient Greek mythology and the Christian religion. In particular, the concept of a fallen angel (Nimbi) is inspired by the Biblical story of Lucifer, who became the devil after betraying God. Furthermore, in Dante's Inferno (of the epic Italian poem, the Divine Comedy), Lucifer (now known as Satan) is depicted as a giant, six-winged beast imprisoned in ice in the deepest circle of Hell. This is all paralleled by how Bonechill has six wings, was imprisoned deep below the Underwhere, and is a self-styled "master of the cold dark" who uses ice breath to attack and is "something of an evil celebrity in certain circles of the Underwhere". Similarly, his being released during an apocalyptic event (the emergence of The Void) may be derived from the Book of Revelation, where Satan escapes from hell and he and his army are battled and defeated in heaven.”

Do you see that shit. Do you think Nintendo would risk doing this in a movie, let alone ever again in any game?The backlash would be INSANE. And they could easily call Luvbi a blasphemous mockery of Jesus because she sacrificed herself to save the world, AND CAME BACK LATER😭😭😭😭😭

Anyways, yeah. In the SPM movie, that whole chapter of the game is what’s going to be changed the most. It likely will be solely based off Greek mythology with no Christian themes involved. Or even LESS than that if they’re too scared. God I wish they weren’t. That chapter is one of my favorites in the whole game (mostly bc it’s crazy to me how Nintendo didn’t chicken out of making it), and it sucks so bad to know it’ll likely be almost nonexistent if the SPM movie were to happen.

Run-Time:

This game is. Long.

In my perfect world, I like to think of it as one big grand movie and it’s the longest animated movie ever made and it’s animated by Dreamworks in the style of Puss in Boots: The Last Wish and it has 5/5 stars and critics are crying and screaming of joy and everybody who clowned on this game has personally showed up to my door to apologize for their wrongdoing and beg for my forgiveness. But unfortunately we can’t have everything we want

I don’t think they will cut out any of the dimensions, I just think that most side plots will be rushed through like a montage :/ It’s why I think it will work best as a series. Every episode could be dedicated to a Dimensional Door. But that also means it’ll likely have less of a budget which sucks

Blumiere and Dimentio:

Something will have to change.

First of all, Blumiere. I don’t exactly know HOW, but they will have to change about his story. The game itself has already gotten criticized for “romanticizing a toxic relationship” between Blumiere and Timpani, and that criticism will be MAGNIFIED with a blockbuster film. Again, I don’t know how the will do it, but they’ll have to adjust that plot to please the masses more than likely. It fucking sucks. But this is modern Nintendo. They are going to go the safest route possible.

That’s not the only thing regarding Blumiere that will have change. Yk how the game also gets criticized for giving Blumiere a happy ending but not Dimentio despite the fact that, regardless of their motivations, they both tried to kill everyone? That criticism will also be magnified with the release of a movie. They’ll have to modify the story to make Blumiere’s actions significantly less evil than Dimentio’s, which could be accomplished through making it so that Blumiere is mind-controlled by the Dark Prognosticus. OR, they’ll have to give Dimentio a happy ending too, whether that be he survives and changes his ways (BOOOOO🍅🍅🍅), or he also gets the “he’s alive somewhere” treatment like Blumiere and Timpani did. However, in order to accomplish that successfully with an audience of five years olds, they’ll have to directly talk about Dimentio’s own tragic backstory with as much weight as they do Blumiere’s. And l. Don’t see that happening. It would be absolutely CRAZY if it did and I would probably pass out in the theatre if we got to see the Pixl Creator, but yeah, it’s unlikely.

Mr. L:

Some good news! I see them making Mr. L recognizable

They probably won’t.

BUT THEY LIKELY WILL

In the first movie, Mario and Luigi’s bond was shown in ways they have rarely done before. Their love and care for one another is clearly shown, not just “that’s my brother Luigi wahoo!” or something. I mean come on, think of the hug scene. And you mean to tell me in the 2nd or 3rd or idk movie, Mario can’t recognize him with a blindfold on? Be serious

In a game, yeah haha funny gag, but in a movie, it’ll be met with more annoyance than anything and it’ll be really disingenuous, and it already does get that criticism in the game where it’s arguably “more acceptable.”

Conclusion:

There’s a lot more that can be discussed, but this is all I’ve put a significant lot of thought into about what I think the SPM movie would be like if I thought about it realistically. Basically, if it’s gonna truly be an SPM movie, Nintendo’s gonna have to grow a backbone. But even then, I still think it would be a great movie, especially in the eyes of those who haven’t played the game and thus don’t have the same “ARGHH BUT YOU FORGOT FLIP-FOLK NUMBER FORTY TWO” mentality that I have LMAO. And even THEN, I still think it would be a great movie. Nintendo will just have to be reaaaally careful to adapt to the limitations (that they put on themselves 💀) and still make it a movie about Super Paper Mario.

[landofzero-archive]

Absolute - The Pure Land 5

(Location: Luxury Hotel (Guest Room))

(At the same time. Eden’s accommodations, in a luxury hotel room)

NEGI: “Good mo~rnin’, everyone♪

Did you get enough sleep last night? C’mon, today let’s also do our best to search—”

Jun: ~……♪

Hiyori: ~……♪

NEGI: “Ah, okay. Sorry. You two are in the middle of something.

Let me just say, it’s okay.

I’m not all that prejudiced and this country tends to treat ‘these kinds of relationships’ with a lotta respect these days.”

Jun: These kinds of relationships– what kind of relationship are you talking about……?

I was just, well, Ohiisan couldn’t sleep because he was worried about Nagi-senpai, so I had him lay his head on my lap while I sang him a lullaby is all.

NEGI: “Sure. You should know that at first glance that doesn’t look anything like a normal friendship, okay? You don’t want to be misunderstood, right?

Or maybe— I didn’t misunderstand anything after all?

My heart’s beating out of my chest. I mean, it’s strangely embarrassing to see someone you know doing ‘something like that’, y’know.”

Jun: That’s why I’ve been tryin’ to figure out what you’re even talking about~?

More importantly, sorry you had to come all this way to pick us up. We’ll be ready in a sec, so please wait a moment.

NEGI: “Alright. I’ll be waiting.

…… The preparation is just that, isn’t it? Preparing to search for that Ran Nagisa person and Shaka-san, right?

Absolute is going to start in a few hours, but is that really okay? You guys are supposed to be performing, right?”

Jun: Well, being in Absolute is also somethin’ we were asked to do, so I don’t think we can just ignore it, right~?

It’s unavoidable though, the four of us are Eden.

We were asked to perform as Eden, not Eve, so we can’t just go and stand on stage like that.

Now, more than anything else, finding and protecting Nagi-senpai is our top priority.

Isn’t that right, Ohiisan? Why have you been quiet for a while? Usually, you yap constantly whenever I leave your side, did you fall asleep or somethin’?

Hiyori: …… I’m just embarrassed. Yes, I’ve said it a number of times before, but NEGI-chan, you really should learn to knock properly before you enter a room.

NEGI: “I’m reflecting on it. How awkward. It’s something I feel bad about.”

Jun: I’m sure you’re desperate to find that Shaka guy, so I can appreciate your enthusiasm~?

Hiyori: That’s right. …… I hadn’t asked before but, NEGI-chan, what kind of relationship do you have with Shaka-san? You’re quite desperate for someone who’s just his friend?

NEGI: “Hm~? Nope, we’re just friends, you see?

Maybe I’m projecting onto him a little, though. That person, he’s also a victim of my shitty father.

I think I’m cute, after all.

It’s embarrassing. I intended to sing for someone else’s sake, but in the end I was just singing for myself.”

Hiyori: I also think I’m the cutest person in the universe!

Jun: No one said anything about you?

Hiyori: Correct. The most important thing to everyone is themselves. Movies and novels move me to tears exactly because I compare myself to them and project onto them.

If someone were to put others before themselves, don’t you think they have a screw loose somewhere?

Jun: Ohiisan, are you talking about yourself?

Hiyori: I always put myself first, don’t I?

Jun: Haha. Wow, maybe people will believe that.

NEGI: “……? I don’t know what’s going on but, hurry up and get ready, alright?

We don’t have any time left. If we don’t find Shaka-san and stick him on stage by the time Absolute starts, there’ll be a riot if we aren’t careful.

Also, I’m sure my shitty father’s remaining subordinates will punish Shaka-san if he caused a huge loss like that.

That person’s chances of surviving have almost vanished into thin air.

If that becomes the case, then I won’t be able to find him ever again, so I can only hope that he escapes to somewhere safe.”

Hiyori: It’d be troublesome if we could never find him again! I don’t really care about Shaka-san, but we absolutely have to find Nagisa-kun!

I’m sure right this very moment he’s crying because he’s sad that I’m not there! Ah, I want to hug him!

That’s why yesterday I said we shouldn’t stop the search and continue it through the night! If we had done that, then by now—

NEGI: “By now our completely transformed bodies might have been discovered by the local garbage collectors?

I told you, didn’t I? This place is usually unsafe. To put it plainly, in peaceful Japan, “bad public safety” is completely different from here.

We should have gone back to this relatively safe hotel for the night. I can bet all my money that I made the right call on that. I don’t have much savings, though.”

Previous | Directory | Next

[screampied]

well, hello there. (read as lady dimitrescu’s voice)

ok, vegas, you interacted with my account…again. love, i think you’re ought to find out who i am before we can even smell october 1st. so cute that you think i’m sweet, because whenever i re-read what i wrote for you im like “oh, that’s not…that’s weird”. i also think you are very sweet! i’m intimidated with people, so indeed i took the opportunity of being high and loose and approachable to send you that first ask.

i think being a whore for ghostface is as easy as saying it’s name. the masks stays on!! do i mean sex or the killing? both? yes. hm, moving along, what’s you favorite ghostface? mine would be stu and jill.

oh, oHH. ok but toji removing the mask, slowly, and the first thing you see is his scarred lips with that smirk. like stfu, i’ll show him a scream. and geto. that man is my lawfully husband, and picturing him with that knife is doing stuff to me. blood on his face, like in hidden inventory, passing his thumb to try and clean it…mshdhdjdjdk fainted

sam as ghostface would’ve been predictable, but it would still be cool. i think they could take a different approach with her. while everyone is scared shitless because a knew killer has show up, she would be excited because-well, she can kill now. again and again, with the excuse of saving her friends and sister. maybe might even kill someone by “mistake” who knows. i think it would be nice, i like the idea of the good character going a lil crazy crazy.

the thing about sidney is that they won’t have the courage to kill her. literal mother of the final girls. but… dale? yeah, i’m bracing myself and praying for her poor little soul.

yes!! they were right in what they did and the ones that loses are the directors. the movie won’t do good at all without them, so must likely they will comeback, as we say in my country, “the sorry dog comes back” as in the directors are the sorry dog, with tail in between their legs.

between cars and bikes im more inclined to cars, but bikers and drivers? ugh, i’m sold to the bikers. sukuna is the type of guy to go to street races just for the fun of nearly dying (in a modern world, of course). i picture a red vintage car with black flames draw in it. oh he would so sexy, he is sexy. others i can see in street race is toji (of course, he bets all the time) and suguru. idk this trinity can have me anytime any day anywhere.

SHUT UP HUNGER GAMES IS SO FUCKING COOL

i used to be a divergent person, but hunger games has grow in my heart. finnick and peeta forever the best boys, suzanne collins cooked with them. and then she fucking burned it with finnick’s. still not over it, how come gale is alive???

jokes aside, i actually fuck with her writing so much, because it’s true, there is no actual victory in a war, we lose too much to be able to live through it. too much nightmares and death.

i’m reading a fanfic set in the hunger games universe, nearly as many words as in the bible, and it’s so fucking good. the author wrote the aftermath of the games perfectly, the rebellion, missions, the games itself. it’s everything.

yapping is done, question of the day is favorite movie and favorite music? see ya!!

nut anon

SLLLAAAY

nutty pook i rly enjoy our long chats i just wanna let u know that 🫡. also the lady dimitrescu voice ????? stawp. do you play resident evil oh now that game is my shit.

LOLLLL DID I. i swear it’s not intentional man. maybe it’s fate 🧿🧿 you think im sweet omg ty AAAAH.

sex with ghostface where the mask stays on is actually cry FUCKKK IM GONNA WRITE THAT. october is gonna bring out the slut in my writing istg. ooooh my fav ghostface ?? probably jill and roman. i love amber too, but billy ofc.

GHOSTFACE TOJIIII DONT DO THIS TO ME. he’s so do that, don’t mind me im writing this down 🚶‍♀️🚶‍♀️🚶‍♀️🚶‍♀️. real they can’t kill the baddest bitch, the whole franchise is nothing without mother.

sukuna as a street racer ID CREEWWAM. i literally saw a sukuna car at the race i went to. i had many interesting thoughts ……. kuna def bets ur so right, toji too with his broke ass.

KEKFLGLHL I LOVE THG ITS SO GOOD. do you like the movies or books better? i like the books but the movies slap

fav movie uhhhhh legally blond, fav music psychedelic pop and indie !!!!

[ellecdc]

[🧺] congrats congrats congrats elle!!! 2000 is such a big milestone and it’s 100% well deserved!!

i know everyone is doing it, but i was hoping i could do match maker!

favorite color is definitely a hard one, but i’ve always been obsessed with purple (any shade i love em all!!) and definitely sage green and emerald green!!

favorite pass time has to be sleep. i get home from school, i sleep. i can sleep anywhere and everywhere. even if i’ve just woken up, get me in a comfortable position, wrap my blankets around me so i’m warm and i’m out in 2 minutes lmao. other things are reading, writing, listening to music, and driving around (while listening to music lol)!!

for shows i’ve been re watching supernatural (hence the sudden urge to write for sam and dean lmao), i like shadow and bone, bridgerton, criminal minds, derry girls, twd, and house of the dragon! as for movies, i’m a proud despicable me fan, i love the lorax, any tim burton movie but especially sweeney todd!

my favorite animal (one that i’ve been wanting for years but my mom won’t let me get) is a crested gecko, but i love cats, dogs (especially the italian greyhound. 100% the dog i’m getting when i graduate)

i know it’s not part of it, but my favorite music/bands are definitely pierce the veil, three days grace, 3 doors down, system of a down, hozier, and chappell roan!!

again, congratulations on 2000 followers, and i know we don’t talk as often as you do everyone else, but i cherish every time we interact and i’m glad we’re mutuals. i hope we both can go through more milestones together!! 🩷 (sorry it’s so long i love to yap about things i love lol)

hmmmm kk I'm going to give you Regulus and Barty.

You cannot tell me that Regulus wouldn't be fucking obsessed with Minions, are you kidding me? and some evil dude who gets accosted by cuteness and then just leans into said cuteness? Reggie coded fr fr. Barty would constantly be shouting "IM GOING TO STEAL THE MOON!!!"

Barty would totally feed into the sleepy time - second classes are ending, he's dragging you to the dorms for snuggles and snoozes. Regulus would roll his eyes fondly but spend his time reading while you slept (and maybe a cheeky nap cuddled up to you from time to time).

your music gives me Reg vibes but the shows scream Barty (Reg would also love Bridgerton, Criminal Minds, and Sweeney Todd)

thanks for your sweet words <3 <3

[yoonjinkooked]

Anyone But The Groom | myg

❅ Summary: After a meet-cute that brings all the romcoms to shame, you realize that for once in your life, the stars have finally aligned and presented you a guy that might be able to make you believe in love at first sight. Only to find out that you’re in charge of planning his Christmas Eve Wedding.

❅ Title: Anyone But The Groom

❅ Pairing: Yoongi x female reader

❅ AU: Wedding Planner reader x Arranged Marriage groom Yoongi

❅ Genre: fluff, angst, smut, slow burn, will-they-won’t-they type of relationship

❅ Word Count: 36.5k (I AM SO SORRY)

❅ Warnings: cursing, alcohol, Yoongi not technically cheating on his fiancé but it’s a gray area (flirting), angst, TWO POV CHANGES IN THE FIC (Yoongi’s perspective), excplicit smut: edging (m receiving), overstimulation (f receiving), cumplay, cumeating, fingering, handjob, unprotected sex, creampie. Also, the character of Sojung is Sowon from Gfriend (her real name) so if you wanna imagine her like I did while writing, go ahead. 

❅ Movie Inspo: The Wedding Planner (2001)

The amazing banner is by @kookdiaries, of course.  This fic is a part of the Christmas in July collab, the  A Winter Wedding Season part, hosted by @kookdiaries, @kithtaehyung and @xiaokoo. 

A lot of people beta-ed this monster so if i forget to mention someone PLEASE shout at me to edit! Betas, Editors, Test Readers that I can’t thank enough: @joyfulhopelox, @xiaokoo, @sunshinekims, @bangtanhome @kithtaehyung & last but not least @dinamitae. Thank you, it meant the world to me. 

So there we go. My first ever collab. Hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think of the story and if it’s what you expected 🧡 Taglist is at the very bottom 🧡 (btw, this was a bitch to format and i am sorry if there are any mistakes!)

You are a fool for not taking the basket - a fool that had made that very same mistake countless times, a fool that should have known better. Yet here you are, juggling various boxes of Christmas lights, struggling to squeeze the phone between your shoulder and ear as you listen to Taehyung rant, sounding rather unhinged. 

“I’m dead serious, I will talk to Marianne and tell her that we need to stop using that caterer. This is like the fourth time he fucked me up to the point of nearly ruining the entire event!” he complains. You can relate, having been on the receiving end of catering trouble with the particular company he is yapping about and while you wanted to help or somehow console him, now is not the time. 

“Taehyung, I love you to bits and understand your frustrations but I am literally drowning in white wired neutral colored Christmas lights, trying to differentiate them from black wired neutral Christmas lights and pick one of each and my phone is about to slide from my shoulder, fall to the ground and break into a billion pieces - I can’t talk right now.” 

“You could have been a normal person and invested in wireless headphones, you know.” 

“I don’t want to pay for something that I’ll end up losing in a matter of days,” you point out in irritation, having already been through this conversation with him. More than once. 

“Or regular wired headphones even, that would give you-” 

“Taehyung, I can’t talk. Bye,” you interrupt him, still hearing him rant as you juggle the boxes in your hands attempting to free one and finally end the call. A minor struggle ensues and two boxes fall out of your hands but at least you can put your phone away. You need a moment, though. Deep breaths, just like your therapist had told you. In and out, eyes closed, ignoring the annoying and incredibly loud music that fills the store. 

Okay, you are focused and in control. Easy and simple: get what you need and leave as soon as possible. You just have to open each box and make sure that the lights in them are the ones described on the shelf - it wouldn’t be the first time that the store mistakenly labels them and causes you to want to break a thing or two. 

You hug the seven boxes close to your chest, having made sure you’ve picked every single neutral one you could find. Unfortunately, as you make your way to the cash register, little trinkets catch your attention - Christmas decor was in full swing late November and having a few Christmas themed events set up, your mind was in overdrive - the little snow angels can be used as gifts for the company Christmas dinner you were in charge of organizing - and the candy canes will be a good addition to pretty much every single event scheduled in December. When it comes to decorations, you have the attention span of a goldfish. 

And there it goes again - your attention, fleeting from your grasp. This time, it isn’t because of the displayed items - it is because of a man. And admittedly, it’s been a while since that has happened. Standing in front of the ornament section, dressed in a long black coat with a beanie covering his platinum hair, he looks as confused as a cat trying to catch a laser. You’re close enough to see his facial features clearly - he looks both cute and serious, as if he was making a life changing decision and not picking Christmas ornaments. He is attractive enough to make you stop in your tracks immediately. 

You stand there, like a complete idiot, still clutching your haul, as you try to decide if it’s even worth it. Approaching a random man in a store for no reason other than finding him attractive might be a sign that you should worry about the state of your love life, or lack thereof. On the other hand, why not? You can help out a guy in need and maybe flirt a bit, just to make sure you still ‘got it’. Reasons don’t matter anyway, not when you feel this sudden, unexplainable urge - to see him up close, to try and speak with him, help him - anything. It was as if a magnet was dragging you to him, despite all common sense. 

Maybe you have gone insane - it would come as a surprise to absolutely no one, given the abundance of stress caused by work - it’s always hectic but holiday season is pure and utter hell. Yes, you may very well completely off your rocker but you decide to walk towards him. He doesn’t register your presence, not until you are standing right next to him - he is startled, jumping in surprise but chuckling soon enough. 

“You scared me,” he shakes his head, giving you a quick once over. 

“Sorry,” you awkwardly respond, taking the opportunity to have a better look at him - the hair under the beanie is definitely dyed, making him look younger than he probably is - you wouldn’t give him 30, but he’s not too far off, you’d say. “You looked very… confused?” 

“By this?” He waves at the shelf in front of him and you nod. “I very much am, yes. Can you help? Do you work here?” he inquires.��

“With how much time I spend here, I might as well,” you mumble under your breath but he caught it, an inquisitive eyebrow catching your attention. “I’m an event planner, shops like these are practically my storage unit,” you shrug - a big mistake. Just as one of the boxes slid out of your grasp, he reaches out and catches the box before it hits the ground. 

“Nice reflexes,” you don’t hide that you’re impressed - he practically pulled the Edward apple move right in front of you. 

“I used to play sports back in the day,” he shrugs casually. “So, event planner, huh? I imagine you know a thing or two about buying presents then?” 

“A thing or two?” you snort at his suggestion. “I know entirely too much about it - and I’m offering my present buying expertise pro-bono - what are you looking for?” You can’t hold back a smile when he offers one to you, obviously amused by the exchange that you have initiated. It is still very random, but at least it turned into a friendly conversation. 

“I need two gifts,” he tells you, resuming the scanning of the shelf in front of him. “Either unisex or for a woman. And I have no idea what they need or want to get,” he tells you. 

“Hmmm,” you ponder out loud, already narrowing down the list of options that was forming in your mind. “On a scale from one to ten, how much does each of them mean to you? Because that will immediately limit our budget and thoughtfulness,” you joke. 

“Well, one is literally a one, because I don’t even know the person - it’s just a cordial gift that I have to get. And the other one,” he frowns, making you smile at the sight of him trying to put a number on how much the person means to him. “I’d say… a three?” 

“Ouch,” you laugh. “A one and a three. Okay, we’re keeping it fairly low budget then. Let me borrow that shopping basket of yours for these lights and I’ll find you the perfect gift,” you suggest, trying to ignore the giddiness that was taking over you at the sound of his laugh as he thrust his basket towards you, letting you drop all of the boxes into it and freeing your hands in the process. You make a move to take the basket from him, but he shakes his head - oh, he’s also a gentleman. So far, so good. 

“The least I can do is carry your load, especially if you save my ass,” he jokes. “Now, where do we start, Miss Event Planner?” 

“It’s Y/N,” you roll your eyes. “Pleasure to meet you, by the way,” you offer him a hand which he accepts immediately. God, his skin is soft! Why are you even noticing that? 

“Nice to meet you, Y/N. I’m Yoongi.” 

“Well, Yoongi, we’re obviously not looking for anything too expensive or personal,” you explain as you start walking, smiling as he follows you immediately. “If you don’t know someone or don’t particularly care for them, you want to go for something that can either be used, something functional and handy, or something so incredibly neutral that they can easily re-gift it if they don’t care for it.” 

“Is there a whole… branch of science dedicated to gift buying?” he laughs in bewilderment - you turn just in time to catch traces of a cute smile, before he manages to hide it. Why, you’re not sure. All you know is, he’s cute and you’re making him laugh, which is more than enough in your book. 

“If there is, I’ve earned a PhD,” you joke. “Seriously though, if you don’t know them, the less thought you put into it, the better. A kitchen tool is always a good idea - if they don’t need a fancy strainer for their pasta, they definitely know someone who needs it.” 

“Well, I don’t know one, but three definitely doesn’t do any cooking,” he informs you. 

“Hmmm,” once again, the mental gift list in your head is sized down. “What’s our budget?” 

“Ugh, anything,” he shrugs awkwardly. “I don’t want to be a cheap gift giver but I’m also not sure if I need to break the bank for it.”

“Candles!” you decide immediately, smiling as you notice the surprise on his face with the sudden exclamation. “You can never go wrong with candles. Decorative and practical, and if they don’t want it for some strange reason, they can give it to someone else easily. Also, the good ones aren’t too cheap so it’s right in the price range you’re aiming for.” 

“You… are really good at this,” he laughs. Someone being impressed by your talent in gift buying is a new one but you’d be lying if you said that his reaction didn’t flatter you. 

“We’re all good at something - candles are on the left,” you lead him through the store. “What are you good at? I take it, not gift buying?” 

“Absolutely not,” he laughs. “I’m in finance. Stupid, stressful, office job.” 

“It’s not stupid if you like it. Although, even if you do like it, it can still get stressful. Every career path has its ups and downs,” you shrug as you stop in front of the candle section, immediately hit by the smell of what you can only describe as Christmas. The cinnamon, apple, mulled wine and vanilla mixtures encompass the both of you and if you weren’t in the danger of fainting from the strength of it, you’d take a deep breath to take it all in. Christmas time is hectic but nothing beats the smell of it. 

“I imagine your job is like that,” he reaches for one of the candles, twisting it disinterestedly. “Everyone thinks it sounds fun, and on paper it does, but it’s one of those things that’s a lot harder than it looks like.” 

“It definitely is,” you confirm, glad that for once in your life, you have met someone who gets it. Everyone thinks that party and event planning is all fun and games - while sometimes it is, they obviously never had to handle a drunk bridal party, a ruined wedding cake, last minute caterer cancellation or a fire caused by fireworks after repeatedly telling the host to not fire them off inside. “It’s fun on most days though and I’m pretty good at it, so I don’t complain much. But we have more pressing issues to resolve - which scents do we pick? What do you think? Anything drawing your attention?” you ask, not wanting to push your choices on him. In your line of work, you guide people towards their decisions, help them pick and then make it a reality. You don’t make the decisions in their stead and you definitely won’t do it now. 

Not unless Yoongi specifically asks, that is. And given how lost he looks at the abundance of candles displayed before you, he probably will. 

“I want to play it safe so… vanilla?” it sounds more like a question than a statement - one that makes you wince - he frowns, reacting to your disappointment. “What? Why not?” 

“You’re not wrong, it is simple,” you let him know, reaching for a different vanilla candle, this one slightly smaller than the one in his hand. “Unfortunately, vanilla is a big hit or miss. I mean, all scents are, really. But I’ve met people who have quite visceral reactions to the smell of vanilla and can’t stand it. Maybe your 1 and 3 hate it, too.” 

“Okay, so no vanilla?” he asks, to which you can only shrug. “You’re more trouble than you are help, you know,” he jokingly comments in a whiny tone. 

“I’m just saying what I’ve learnt from experience,” you lift your hands in surrender, still clutching the vanilla candle. “Look, the safest bet would be something Christmas-y. They might still hate the scent, but it follows a theme that we’re going to be living with for the next couple of weeks. And if they hate it, they can make it a Christmas gift for someone.” 

“What does Christmas even smell like?” he frowns. “You’re lucky you’re in finance,” you roll your eyes, not missing the smile that appears on his face. “Christmas smells like… home. A warm hug. Gingerbread houses, candy canes and cinnamon. Family time and mulled wine for when you can’t stand family time anymore,” you describe it to the best of your ability, realizing that it might make you sound weird - it’s too late for that. “If I were you, I’d go for apple cinnamon or mulled wine. Or one of each.” 

“Apple cinnamon and mulled wine?” he asks. 

“Dude, if Mariah Carey is blasting through the speakers, buying Christmas themed gifts is the safest bet you can make,” you point out, no longer able to ignore the sound of her belting out high notes over the store’s speakers. Yoongi contemplates your words for a long moment, still looking over his options. You can’t hide a smile when he finally makes his selection - one apple cinnamon, one mulled wine. Placing them into his basket, he turns to you, tutting his head to the side. 

“Now, how in the world do I decide which one to give to whom?” 

“Nuh-huh,” you laugh, shaking your finger no. “That was pro bono. The rest of my services come with a price, I'm afraid.” 

“Would a cup of coffee be enough of a payment?” 

You are able to catch the meaning behind his tone - it’s not just a joke, it’s a proposition. You didn’t imagine that it could get as far as getting coffee with him but the suggestion is clear. And in your mind, you’d be a fool to refuse. 

“Hm. I can work with that,” you exchange smiles, with you growing increasingly amused by the subtle blush that colors his cheeks. Realizing he might be into you, you do your darn best not to skip as you follow him towards the cash registers. 

Two cups of coffee later, tears of laughter fill your eyes as you clutch to your stomach, bending over, attempting to keep your voice low and not attract the attention of other customers. Yoongi’s laughing, too - more amused by your reaction than by his story. 

“No wonder you’re hopeless with gift buying,” you wipe your eyes. “You must have used the remainder of this years’ luck to run into me today, of all people.” 

“I know, right? The only better option would be a personal gift shopper,” he jokes. 

“Uh, debatable,” you argue, instantly making him shake his head with laughter. “Remember, most of the events I plan have goodie bags. I could transfer careers to become a personal shopper in a blink of an eye.” 

“Would you want that, though?” he asks, turning the conversation towards a bit more serious, although still laid back topic. “Or is event planning something you always wanted to do?” he wonders. 

“It wasn’t my childhood dream, if that’s what you’re asking, but if I were to look back, I’m not sure if I even remember what my dream was,” you tell him honestly. ‘It happened by chance, just a product of knowing the right people and good organizational skills. The rest you learn as you go, I suppose. Trends change, people want different things. Understand, adapt and organize. It’s keeping me content at the moment but who knows what the future holds?” you emphasize your words with a shrug, consciously refusing to think about the promotion that has been mentioned by your boss, a few times in the past weeks. You’ll think about that once your next wedding is a success. 

“I wish I had that kind of… is spontaneity the right word?” he wonders to himself. “I’m more of a careful planner, with clear ideas where I want myself, my business and my life to go.” 

“Oh, I’m a control freak at work,” you laugh immediately. “I have to be, if I want to keep myself sane and my clients happy. But in life… I’m still at a place where I’m perfectly fine with going with the flow.” 

“That’s what I envy,” Yoongi points out, sighing wistfully as he leans back into his seat. “Tell me, does planning weddings make you want to make your own a seven day extravaganza festival or something?” 

“That depends entirely on the person,” you laugh, remembering how Taehyung has his own personal scrapbook of ideas that he keeps to himself alone, ideas he plans to use when his day comes. “I think it drove me in the opposite direction, honestly. At the ceremony and the wedding party, I’m on the sidelines, observing and ready to fix any possible issue. I like staying on the side. Once my time comes, if it comes, I’ll probably just elope.” 

“Funny,” he comments, offering you a smile. “It’s a bit… contradictory, isn’t it?” 

“Is it, though? I’ve seen it all, from drunken uncles making a scene on the dance floor to four-piece cakes falling apart in front of the bride’s eyes. I don’t want that shit for myself,” you chuckle, shaking your head as you feel your spine tingle at the very thought of that being something you experience on your wedding day. “I just want peace with my man, you know. We can find an excuse to party anytime - I want that day to be simple and meaningful. Although talking about it is absolutely useless, since I don’t intend to wed anytime soon.” 

“Oh, come on,” he laughs in disbelief and you giggle, shaking your head. “You can’t tell me that there isn’t a line of guys just waiting for you.” 

“Perhaps there is, but not for marriage,” you joke, laughing when he rolls his eyes at you. “I work entirely too much. The last man I spent time with that wasn’t a friend, colleague, client or a family member was this random dude I met while shopping for Christmas lights.” 

“Oh, is that so?” he laughs, pretending to be impressed. “How did that go?” 

“Well, I’m still not sure about that,” you play along. “He was funny and made me laugh a lot. Hopeless when it comes to buying presents,” he interrupts your jest to laugh. “But I’d say he’s cute enough to make up for it.” 

“Interesting,” he blushes again but doesn’t back down, deciding to follow your flirtatious direction. “That sounds… like something worth exploring.” 

“I’ll know if I end up with his phone number at the end of the day,” you shrug, reaching for your nearly empty cup of coffee, using it to hide the grin that took over your face. You have never been a smooth talker, especially not with someone you’ve just met, but the words were just flowing out of you and who are you to question it? Especially when they’re reciprocated and Yoongi makes sure that they are. 

The silence between you isn’t uncomfortable - it’s calm, contemplative, as if both of you have other things on your mind but can’t quite keep your eyes from each other. You can only guess what is happening in his head but yours is filled with thoughts how your stars must have aligned well today. The stress and pressure you were under this morning seemed to have paid off with this comfortable moment of calmness, with a man whom you barely know at all but are more than willing to try and uncover more. 

“And what if he suddenly has to cut things short?” Yoongi breaks the silence sheepishly. “He may or may not have a scheduled call with a potential client in a different time zone and would have to be home soon to get prepared for it?” 

You could tell that he feels awkward, that he doesn’t want to end your impromptu outing just yet, but you smile and wave him off. “I’d tell him I know what it’s like and that if he’s interested, we can continue it some other time.” 

“Okay, I can’t keep talking like we’re not talking about us, it’s making me nervous and confused,” he blurts out and you laugh at his cute awkwardness, noticing how he’s wiping his hands at his jeans - he must feel more nervous than he lets on. “I have to go but I would like to… keep in touch with you, if that’s okay.” 

“I’d love that,” you answer honestly. 

“I still have a bit of time, so… I can walk you home, I guess?” He offers a suggestion that warms your heart and makes it skip a beat instantly. 

“I drove here,” you explain regretfully, angry at yourself for not taking a chance and strolling to the shopping mall, now wishing you had more time to spend with Yoongi. “You could walk me to the garage, though?” 

“It’d be my honor,” he announces dramatically, making you giggle for the nth time today. 

 “Wait,” Tae interrupts you. “Did you kiss?” he demands. 

“No, we did not kiss,” you roll your eyes as you snuggle deeper into your comforter. After the day you’ve had, you’re dead tired and ready for sleep, despite having two cups of coffee in a row just hours earlier. Sleep was waiting for you with open arms but your best friend wanted details and everyone knows what the priority order is in situations like these. “He walked me to the car, we exchanged phone numbers and he just smiled and waved.” 

“He should have kissed you,” Tae comments, pausing to take a sip of whatever it is that he was drinking - red wine, probably. “If I was in his place, I would have kissed you.” 

“No,” you whine, shaking your head. “No, it was perfect the way it was. I wouldn’t have been against a kiss but it totally wasn’t necessary. We met like… two hours before that, we know the bare minimum about each other. If we continue texting, there might be plenty of chances for a kiss. Or two. Or three. Or-” 

“I get it,” he interrupts you, laughing. “I get it, you met a guy, fell in love at first sight and now you are a firm believer in true love again.” 

“Pfft, no,” you deny it immediately. “I believe in partnership and long lasting ones, too. Soulmates, true love and shit like that… I mean, you know the divorce rates of couples whose weddings we organize.” 

“And the amount of divorce parties we plan afterwards,” he mumbles in agreement. “You do like him though, don’t you?” 

“I do, as much as I can like someone I’ve just met,” you remind him. “I don’t know, I’ll send him a text and see where it goes. But I definitely had an amazing time with him. You’d like him, too. He has this dry sense of humour that would either bring you to tears or drive you up the wall,” you laugh, remembering Yoongi’s deadpan expression as he said the funniest one-liners you’ve heard in a while - and your best friend is Taehyung, so you hear plenty. 

“The way you describe him, he sounds more like the ‘drive me up the wall’ type,” he jokes and you silently agree, having a feeling that Yoongi and Taehyung might be a bit too different to function in harmony. “So, you will text him, right? You won’t let this one slip out of your hands like you did the last one?” 

“Ha!” you let out a humorless laugh. “The last one didn’t slip out of my hands, he dumped me. And yes, I will text him. Probably as soon as we’re done with this conversation.” 

“Good. Go text him and sleep well. Bye.” 

Your mouth opens and you double check, staring at your phone in disbelief - he really did end the call, just like that. You laugh at his antics, but decide to take a chance - just like you did earlier today, faced with a lost and confused Yoongi. 

Hi, it’s Y/N. Just wanted to let you know that I had fun today. It was very random but one of the best days I’ve had in a while. 

Hope the call went well. Don’t be a stranger. 

Clicking send before you could second guess yourself, you lock your phone, twirling it between your fingers as you let the jitters take over you - the ones that make you twitch in expectation, bite your bottom lip and your leg bounce as you wonder if you did the right thing and if it’ll lead anywhere good - or anywhere at all, for that matter. 

You put the phone on your bedside table, far enough to be out of your immediate reach, and turn off the lights, even going as far as to turn your back to it - for tonight, your phone no longer exists, not even if it lights up and buzzes. 

Despite your tiredness, you had a feeling that sleep won’t come easy tonight - not when you can’t shake Yoongi and his cute, blushy expression and black beanie out of your mind. 

You are running late, which is not something that happens often - thankfully, you’re enough of a control freak that you won’t actually be late for the start of your workday. No, you are simply late for being early. Delaying your arrival to the office even more, you stop to grab a coffee from your favorite street vendor, smiling as you tip him and smiling even brighter as you feel the distinct text message vibrations in your bag. 

It’s him, it has to be - it has been the whole weekend. Not non-stop, thankfully, because you can’t handle that amount of texting with someone you’re developing a liking for. It wasn’t non-stop but he replied to you on Saturday, texted you first on Sunday and the reason for the bags under your eyes is him, because you were texting until late last night. 

And you know, you just know, that it’s a good morning text from him. 

He is funny, smart and good looking - everything you want in a guy. And you just… ran into him in the most random of ways. And now, you can’t stop grinning like an idiot, shake him out of your mind or wonder if you should ask him on a proper, official date today. 

“You look so in love, it’s sickening,” are the words Taehyung chooses for his greeting as you join him in your shared office, barely seeing him from the floral arrangements that decorate his desks - he is drowning in flowers. 

“Good morning to you too, sunshine,” you mumble as you take a seat behind your desk, much better organized than his. “And for the record, I’m not in love. You can��t fall in love with someone you barely know.” 

“You do like him, though,” Taehyung points out. 

“That I do,” you agree easily, knowing that no matter what you do, you can't control the smile that threatens to take over your face completely. “But that’s a conversation we can save for our lunch break. Sojung will be here at 10AM and she’ll be joined by the groom this time, so I want to make sure that everything is ready and set for them to pick,” you point out, not wanting to get in a situation when Yoongi can distract you from your work obligations. 

“You say that like you haven’t dropped 10 custom made wedding moodboards in our shared drive over the weekend,” Taehyung comments and you look down, guilty - you do tend to work more than you are paid for, often spending weekends browsing for ideas and creating your own. “I have to say, I’m impressed at how you found that guy. If I approached a girl randomly in a store, I’d probably be taken away by security.” 

“Probably,” you agree with a chuckle. “Enough of that now - I’ll get the venue catalogue ready for them to browse and you get those flowers in order. Somehow,” you add, worriedly looking at the mess on his desk. You have faith in him though, he’s an event planner for a reason. His method might be more hectic than yours but the end results are equally brilliant, if not even better, if you’re being honest. 

“I hate doing arranged marriages,” he sighs, shuffling around one bouquet to the other side of his desk, trying to organize the space. His comment catches your attention and makes you frown instantly - what is he talking about?” 

“You’re talking about Sojung?” you ask in confusion, eyebrows raising instantly when he nods. “What makes you think it’s arranged? She never made a comment like that.” 

“Y/N, please,” Taehyung snickers. “You’ve been doing this for years, I figured you’d know better. The budget for the wedding is insane, we’ve been working with her for weeks and the groom is yet to make an appearance, she is from a ridiculously rich family with big businesses everywhere and did she ever even call him by name?” 

“Well when you say it like that…” you comment, suddenly realizing that everything is true - Sojung seems like a lovely girl, very polite and friendly, despite being the rich girl prototype. Not once did she refer to him by name - both you and Taehyung refer to him as ‘the groom’, but the puzzle pieces didn’t fit until now. “I mean, it doesn’t necessarily mean it’s arranged, but yeah, it could be.” 

“I’m calling it, it’s arranged,” Taehyung shrugs, pushing a bouquet of pink peonies away from his mouse and keyboard. “But that’s good for us, if you think about it. Sure, true love is a lie and all that but he most likely won’t be an opinionated groom and we’ll just make Sojung’s dreams come true, just having to deal with her and her alone.” 

“True,” you agree, knowing how much easier it is when only one person is in charge of being the opinionated one. You cringe on the inside remembering the track record of marriages with weddings like that. “Now - work. We can gossip after we meet him.”

“Okay, Miss Pushy.”

You ignore his comment, used to the banter - it’s hard not to be, considering you’ve been working as a team for years now. Your best friend, your work partner and the one who got you to this job in the first place - if he wants to refer to you as Miss Pushy, he can. 

It takes you quite some time to organize the venue catalogue but it would have taken you a lot more if you had more than a few weeks notice - 24th of December is an incredibly popular date and the venues you’ve managed to tentatively book with the possibility of cancelling the reservation was low - good for you both your company and yourself have made connections, making last minute bookings doable, although not preferable. 

Winter events aren’t your favorite but when it comes to weddings, you definitely prefer them over spring and summer weddings. For one, it’s always inside, save for a possible bridal photoshoot in the snow. Spring weddings often end in sudden showers, mud and a whole lot of cursing. As for summer weddings, one word alone is enough to make you cringe - sand. 

Winter weddings are nice and cozy. Sojung was also a fairly easy client to work with, especially given her family name and status - so far, there have been no requests for swan ice sculptures, which was enough to make you happy. So long as her future husband isn’t a piece of work, this might just end up being one of the calmer weddings you’ve planned. 

It’s only when you’ve finished organizing the catalogue that you remembered the earlier text you’ve received. It was impossible not to grin when you saw the name that flashed on your screen. You were right - it was Yoongi. 

Good morning, Y/N. I hope you slept well - sorry for keeping you up so long last night - I feel bad but we never seem to run out of topics to talk about. 

I have loads of meetings today - the one with one & three, too. Hope your day doesn’t suck as mine will lol

Yup, you can feel it - the pain in your cheeks as you hide a smile, the swarm of butterflies filling your stomach - all tell-tale signs of your growing interest, of your slowly developing crush on him. You can deny it to Taehyung as much as you want to, but you can’t hide the truth from yourself. You like him, stupidly so.

Good morning! I enjoyed texting you last night - if you’re up for it, we can upgrade it to a phone call tonight? I had a lot of fun - you’re fun. I hope your day doesn’t suck at all. May your coffee be cold, meetings short and 1&3 happy with their candles! :)

This time, you hesitate for a second before sending. A part of you, a very vocal and demanding part of you, wants to ask him out - not for an upgrade to a phone call. No, a part of you wants him one on one, wants an opportunity to flirt the life out of him. The more boring, saner part of you forces you to wait - you did make the first move, you did put it all in place for him to invite you for that coffee to begin with, you even texted him first. You want him to be the one to make the next move. Maybe he will, maybe he won’t, but he surely doesn’t leave you waiting too long for a text. 

I’d love that! Can’t wait to talk to you. I’ll let you know how the gift giving goes - if your master plan comes true, I owe you at least another cup of coffee. Dinner, even?

Bingo. Bingo, confetti, fireworks and glitter - it worked. He did it, he made the next move - well, the next half-move, if you’re being specific. Good enough for you - more than enough! 

Definitely! Talk later, have a meeting soon! :)

You put your phone down, sure that the conversation is over now - but lo and behold, your phone buzzes again - and it’s him. 

Talk later :)

It’s the first time he used an emoji. He is absolutely not an emoji person. You consider yourself a good people reader and there is no way in hell that Yoongi is a type of person that uses emojis. You have proof to your claim too - he did not use a single one in all the texts that you’ve exchanged last night. Yes, of course, you’re not a fool - an emoji doesn’t mean much and you are absolutely not going to read too much into this but… he used one. 

“You are absolutely sickening,” you turn to face Taehyung, who has a shit-eatting grin plastered on his face. “You just can’t keep him out of your brain or your phone, can you?” 

“Shut up,” is all you say, locking the phone and returning the focus to the moodboards on the computer screen. 

“You’re a fucking goner,” he laughs at you. “I’m so going to enjoy watching this unfold.” 

You ignore him - it’s the only way you can survive him right now. Focusing on the tasks ahead, on your bullet journal and presentations, it becomes easy for you to push both Taehyung and Yoongi out of your mind. Sojung will be here soon and if you want to make her wedding happen the way she wants it to, you need to guide her to making some final decisions today. Or, at the very least, organize visitations to the temporarily reserved venues. The more you have prepared, the easier it’ll be for her to decide and you can just hope that the groom is a yes man who wants to make his future wife happy. 

Right on the clock, right at 10, a knock on your office door makes both Taehyung and you look up - Sana, the head secretary, peaks her head through the door and smiles. “Your 10 o’clock is here. Are you ready?” 

“Absolutely, bring her in,” Taehyung tells her as you both stand up and get ready to greet Sojung and her fiance - she walks in, dressed in a matching cream dress and coat, a bright smile gracing her gorgeous face - she smiles brightly, like she always does, 

“Taehyung, Y/N,” she greets you both with a quick kiss on the cheek, before taking a step back and smiling at you. “Y/N, you look beautiful today! All smiley and happy.” 

“She met a man,” Taehyung immediately blurts out, causing you to nudge him in the ribs - a bit too hard, but he deserves it. Your interaction makes Sojung laugh, but after several meetings with both of you, she has gotten used to it. 

“I can’t wait to hear all about it,” she giggles, taking a seat in one of the chairs placed on the other side of Taehyung’s desk. “Do tell.” 

“Oh no no,” you laugh as you drag your own office chair to Taehyung’s desk, knowing that you will have to be face to face with both her and her future hubby. Speaking of which… “We need to talk about your man first. Is he not going to be joining us today?” you ask, as politely as you could, unsure if it’s a sensitive subject or not. If Taehyung’s right and you are organizing a wedding for an arranged marriage, Sojung might not be comfortable with these questions - unfortunately for her, they still need to be asked. 

“Oh, he’s running late,” she waves her hand dismissively. “He called me to let me know that he’s stuck in traffic but he should be joining us soon enough. We can start without him, however. I’d hate to waste more of your time, I already feel bad enough about his late arrival.” 

“Nonsense, we’re yours for the next hour,” Taehyung offers her a kind smile as he takes his seat next to you. “But, there are a few things that we can show you, just to hear your opinion. If something is a hard pass for you, he’ll likely support it being off the table.”

“Absolutely,” she agrees. “He’s an opinionated but simple man, if I’m being honest. I don’t think he’ll hinder you two, or me, in any way.” 

Huh. Maybe it’s not arranged after all - she speaks nicely of him, smiling as she does so. You hope it’s not - Sojung really is a breath of fresh air and seems genuine - she deserves a man that wants to be with her with his entire being. 

“Okay then, let’s get started,” you clasp your hands together dramatically but still smiling. “I’ve gathered a few ideas over the weekend and I’m curious about your opinion.” 

Minutes pass as Taehyung and you take turns in showing her your findings and suggestions and her carefully scanning them, saying no to things instantly and agreeing to some as a possibility. Your initial instincts from the first few meetings with her were right - she wants it all to be elegant and organized but nothing too flashy. Taehyung was showing her a perfect little arrangement full of winter jasmine when another knock on the door interrupts you. Sana peaks in through the door again. “The groom is here.”

“Ah, finally, the man of the hour,” Taehyung laughs. “Let him in Sana, please,” he tells her as both he and Sojung stand up - you are quick to join them, leaning a bit to the side to prevent Sojung from blocking your view - your curiosity is at its highest peak, ready to finally be face to face with Sojung’s other half. 

“I apologize for being late,” you can hear him before you see him. “The traffic was horrible.”

For what feels like the longest moment ever, your entire world stops - everyone and everything stays still, time stops passing, the earth stops spinning. For a moment that feels like an eternity and then some, everything stops as you make eye contact with Sojung’s husband-to-be. 

Yoongi. 

The same Yoongi that was texting you an hour ago, the one who made you laugh until your stomach hurt, the one who you spent the whole of last night thinking about, as you exchanged messages about anything and everything, life changing and irrelevant. 

Just like everything around you, he freezes, too. You can see his eyes widen but before he can say anything, or react in any way, you are already on the move. 

“No trouble at all,” you force your most professional smile, the one you wear whenever you are dealing with bridezillas or even worse, their mothers. Stoic and charming as ever, you hold your head high and your back straight. “Please, join us.”

“Taehyung, Y/N, this is my fiance, Min Yoongi,” Sojung introduces him, and the very mention of his name makes your lip twitch. He still has his eyes glued to you, while you look away, in search of a way to let Taehyung know. Doing it in front of both Sojung and Yoongi is impossible and as you are seconds away from an angry meltdown, you need to let your partner know. 

While Taehyung shakes Yoongi's hand, you hook your arm under his free one, earning a look of confusion from your best friend. “Pleasure is ours, Yoongi. Taehyung and I need to bring the rest of the material from our main office so please, make yourself comfortable and Sojung can fill you in on some of her opinions.” 

“O-okay,” he awkwardly mumbles. Sojung is none the wiser, smiling at her husband-to-be and Taehyung doesn’t bother hiding the bewildered look on his face. However, he lets you drag him away out of the office - not to the main office, though. The door you push him through leads to a room you refer to as the storage room, which only makes his confusion grow. 

��Y/N, what the heck-”he starts as you close the door behind you. 

“It’s him,” you hiss, keeping your voice no louder than a whisper. Taehyung obviously doesn’t put two and two together - how could he, it is completely insane. “It’s him! The guy I met at the mall? The guy I’ve been texting all weekend?” At that, his eyes grow wider than you’ve ever seen them go before - his mouth drops and as seconds pass, he opens and closes it slowly, trying to think of words to say. 

As are you - what do you do now? You… Yoongi didn’t cheat on Sojung with you, other than texting, nothing happened, but that’s a betrayal on it’s own. What if they are not exclusive? You’ve seen weirder shit happen, even with upcoming newlyweds. And if you do say something, what if you lose a client? Both his and her family are loaded and this wedding can hold the promotion both you and Taehyung have been eyeing for a while. You thought that this was the last step for taking your partnership to the next level and becoming higher figures in the firm - your boss said as much. Can you ruin that by telling the bride that her future husband had an impromptu date with you and has been texting you since?!

“What the fuck are you going to do?” Taehyung finally finds the ability to speak - you are not so lucky, simply shaking your head in silent bewilderment, trying to comprehend the severity of a situation you were put in and not by your free will. He was just a guy - just a normal, cute guy with a cute beanie and a dry sense of humor. It was not supposed to be like this. 

“I.. I can’t say anything, can I?” you wonder out loud, still trying your very best to keep yourself as quiet as possible, not wanting Sojung and Yoongi to be able to hear you. “It was still… platonic, I guess. Yeah, he’s a shithead but he didn’t… cheat.” 

“Yet,” Taehyung adds angrily and he’s right - he is so right. If you weren’t the planner that greeted him today, who knows how far he would be willing to take your flirt. 

“Yes, yet,” you confirm in annoyance. “And now, I know and he knows that I know so it won’t be happening. Can we lose them as clients? Is that something you’re comfortable with? Just because he’s a shithead?” you ask. After all, it’s not your choice alone - the two of you have been teammates, equal partners for years. Every decision regarding work is made by both of you - dropping this opportunity on your behalf would be unfair and possibly harmful. 

“We can’t,” he sighs in agreement. Both of you know it, this is your golden ticket - a ticket to a promotion - less work, more pay, bigger events with more staff available. “Can you do it, though? Can you go through this without… strangling him with your own bare hands?” 

That is a very good question. You want to say yes - after all, you are a professional. No, you have never had to deal with something as bad, or as personal, as this situation, but you can put your job first when you must. It’s not like you had the time to actually develop feelings for him. Yes, you developed a strong liking but that’s it. You do not know him well and finding out that he is engaged to be married just proves it. Without a doubt, you are strong enough to plan this wedding and keep your emotions at bay. Whether or not you can keep your mouth shut is another thing. 

“I can,” you reassure both Taehyung and yourself, turning to taking deep breaths to calm yourself down - your pulse too, as it went into overdrive the second he stepped foot into your office. “I think I’m going to have to talk to him at some point. But until that point comes, I can ignore it just fine. And if that point comes, I will not make a scene, I will not ruin it.” 

Taehyung sighs, grabbing you by the shoulders - you are surprised but don’t move, letting him shake you gently as he gives you a serious look. “Promise me you won’t fuck the groom.”

“Of course not!” you snap, only to remember that you need to be quiet. “I’d never do that!” you hiss at him, insulted at the very thought of you going behind Sojung’s back like that. 

“Let me rephrase that,” Taehyung takes a deep breath, still keeping a firm grip on your shoulders. “Promise me that you will nip those emotions in the bud and keep your head clear. Promise me you won’t let your feelings, of hurt, anger, love, of whatever - get into your head. Keep them at bay and keep him at bay.” 

“I promise,” you tell him and you mean it. You would never do that and after what you’ve just experienced, growing closer to Yoongi is very literally the last thing that you want to do. “I will find a way to resolve this with him, I will keep my trap shut and plan the shit out of this wedding.” 

“And if you have to cry it out, don’t keep it in,” you roll your eyes at Tae’s order. “Y/N, I’m dead serious. This is anything but normal. If anything changes, if it becomes too much, you need to tell me and we need to sort it out. We can make it happen but if your head or heart isn’t clear, we’re fucked.” 

“I promise,” you repeat. “I will do this. I will do it well. And if I can’t, you’ll be the first to know.” 

“Good. Now take a deep breath and make up an excuse because they’re waiting for us.” 

You can feel Tae’s eyes on you as you look to the ground, taking a few deep breaths to calm yourself down and prepare yourself for facing him again. All things considered, you are incredibly lucky that you’ve faced the truth today and not somewhere down the line. It was only two cups of coffee and texting. Nothing more, nothing less. A random one night stand held more meaning that whatever it is that you thought you could make with Yoongi. 

He is your client. He is getting married. And you are one of the best event planners in the city. You will organize the best wedding ever and you won’t bat an eye. 

“Let’s do this.”

Fixing your sweater, you take a few deep breaths and pause with your hand on the doorknob - a moment, nothing more than a moment. As soon as it passes, you will smile and go about this meeting like you would with any other. 

“Sorry for the wait,” you sound chirpy, going above and beyond to not show Yoongi’s presence affecting you in any way. In fact, you don’t look at him at all, instead having eyes for your desk alone. “Turns out we didn’t find the invitation samples we’ve saved. I know Sojung had already selected a pattern but it was nothing more than another option,” you lie, knowing that you have to explain your empty hands. 

“It would probably confuse you even more,” Tae adds, taking his seat. As he got to the desk before you did, you had to turn to the chair that actually belongs to you - the one positioned directly in front of Yoongi. You were hoping to sneak your way into Tae’s chair but today really isn’t your lucky day. “Now, let me show you what we-” 

“Oh, hold on,” Sojung interrupts him, which forces you to make eye contact with her for the first time since you left the storage room. If she picked up on the change in energy, she isn’t showing it. “Yoongi was thoughtful enough to bring us little gifts but he wasn’t aware that we will be meeting with more than one planner,” she awkwardly looks towards him. You still keep your eyes glued to her, grabbing a hold of your favorite purple pencil, feeling the urge to do something, anything, anything at all to distract yourself, repeatedly clicking it on and off as you wait for the hardest hit of all. You already know what it is. You’d be stupid not to. 

“Yes, I haven’t realized that you work as a team,” Yoongi sounds awkward, way more awkward than he did back on Friday. 

“It’s easily fixable, though,” Sojung giggles, “Taehyung can simply take my present.” 

“No, I could never-”

“But it’s-” 

Yoongi and Taehyung speak over each other and all you can do is listen, avoid looking at him and mentally pray for your chair to swallow you whole and save you from this catastrophe. Just minutes ago, you thought that it couldn’t possibly get any worse. It can, it absolutely can, because you know you are getting a candle. 

“I insist,” Sojung continued, giving the decorative bag that was in her hand to Taehyung, reaching over the desk to do so. This was your signal that you can no longer ignore Yoongi - sure enough, he is doing the same thing Sojung is, leaning towards you with a burgundy red paper bag in his hand. 

Oh, how you wish you could refuse. With a tight lipped smile, you take the bag from him, careful to avoid your skin touching his. “Thank you,” your voice is not nearly as chirpy as it was before, but you are hiding the bitterness in it - at least you hope so. Opening the bag, you can officially no longer hide the bitterness, letting out a chuckle that might pass as amusing but in reality is incredibly ironic. 

I mean, apple cinnamon is basic. Simple. Mulled wine is more complicated, implying you might have given it more thought. Give the apple one to one and the wine one to three. 

Staring at you from the bottom of the bag is apple cinnamon - the very candle you had helped him select, the candle that ironically brought you two together for one afternoon and now is nothing more than a reminder of what you are to him - a zero. 

“Is everything okay?” Sojung sheepishly asks, obviously alerted by your chuckle. 

“Oh, no, no,” you are quick to fix the situation, smiling brightly at her with a smile she returns. Slowly, you make eye contact with Yoongi for the first time since he’d entered your office - your smile doesn’t falter, not even when you look him directly into his eyes - eyes that are swimming with mixture of panic, guilt and maybe even something more. “Apple cinnamon is my absolute favorite, you’ve nailed it. It’s a very thoughtful gift, thank you very much.” 

Your tone doesn’t have an ironic note to it but you know that he can understand the message - the lump he swallows is proof enough. He is probably scared shitless of you outing him in front of his wife to be, telling her that he flirted with you shamelessly while promised to her, naming her a three on a 1 to 10 scale of importance. 

Luckily for him, you are not an impulsive person and can let your anger simmer slowly and quietly, for the longest time. A promotion is hanging over your and Taehyung’s heads and Yoongi has a whole lot of luck today because your mouth is shut and will remain so until they drive away to the honeymoon you will schedule in a limousine that you will rent for them. 

“Thank you, Yoongi,” Taehyung interrupts the awkward silence, probably sensing the energy you’re emitting - after years of working side by side with you and being your friend, he can feel the waves of negative emotions long before they’re ready to hit. “Now, we’re already running a bit late and since we’re planners, our entire being functions on punctuality - let’s not waste more time and get down to business.” 

“Right,” Sojung agrees. “We’re going to start with the venues, right?” she asks. 

“Yes,” you answer her, slipping completely into your professional role, now very confident that the facade won’t crack, at least not before 11 o’clock. “Every possible cottage, villa, country club that we have reserved are here,” you struggle to turn your monitor towards them, sitting quite a bit away from it - much to your dismay, Yoongi is the one who helps you. “Thank you,” you mumble quickly, opening the correct powerpoint. “Now, all of these are simply tentatively reserved, as a favor to our company so our time with each place is limited. For organization’s sake, we need to narrow down your choices today and then, if you decide that’s what you want, you can visit the venue with us - we highly recommend that you do, as some of these pictures don’t do the venue justice,” you explain. 

“Alright then,” Sojung leans closer to the monitor, and to Yoongi - you don’t miss the way she touches his shoulder gently. Arranged marriage, your ass - they obviously have a decent connection, at the very least. “Let’s see what we have here.”

Your personal phone has remained on mute from the moment Sojung and Yoongi had left your office. Being the smart woman that you are, you had the number separated from your business one, giving you the luxury of ignoring Yoongi the whole day while still being able to tend to unavoidable calls and emails. 

And boy, is he relentless. The last time you checked, you had over 10 missed calls and 20 texts. None answered and none read. You do not want to hear it, saving the remnants of your energy and sanity for things other than his excuses. 

Glass of wine in hand, you stare switches from the phone to the apple cinnamon candle, both placed theatrically in the very middle of your coffee table - you wanted the sight to mock you, to remind you of what a fool you were. 

At the end of the day, Yoongi did not wrong Sojung - he did not cheat on her, he did not lie to her (that you know of), he did not even approach you first, nor was he the one to start flirting. He did not wrong her - flirting with another person is a gray area, a gray area you wouldn’t feel comfortable with if you were his fiance, but still - nothing wrong, not on paper. 

In reality, he didn’t even wrong you. Did he ask you out on a date? No, not specifically. Having coffee or dinner can still very much be a friendly activity and he did not call it a date - he did not kiss you, he did not make a direct move, nor did he at any point say he is single. 

You are the guilty one, not him. Despite your better judgment, despite knowing that you barely know the guy, you’ve allowed yourself to get your hopes up, if only just a little. The flirt and banter got to you, he was cute and you have been single for long enough to know that you are emotionally ready for another person to make your life a bit more colorful. Your hopes weren’t high, but they were there. It’s your fault more than it is his, and that’s the bitter truth that you need to accept. That, and the fact that you now have to plan his wedding. 

The flowers were already selected and the venue choice was narrowed down to two places - both Sojung and Yoongi were incredibly easy to please, which was a blessing in disguise - the less time you have to spend with him, the better. A road trip is in store for tomorrow afternoon, the four of you are meant to meet at the large venue first, have them check it out and then drive to the smaller option, hopefully with the couple reaching a decision on the spot. You will have to spend more than an hour with him tomorrow and you only have tonight to prepare for it. Oh, how lucky you are to be calm, collected and professional. Those qualities have saved your ass countless times, but this one might be the biggest of all. 

You were on the second glass when the doorbell rings - and you ignore it willingly, knowing that it’s Taehyung on the other side. He had spent the better part of the day checking on you, double checking on you, asking if you can go through with this and wondering if you should drop the wedding after all. Once you finally snapped at him and ordered him to drop the topic entirely, he was quiet, save from insisting that you get together tonight, to watch a movie or drink yourselves to an early grave - basically, to do anything to distract yourself. 

You refused, but Taehyung isn’t the type of man to back off from a challenge. The doorbell rings again and without batting an eye, you ignore it, sipping calmly on your wine in silence, eyes locked on the stupid candle that you had helped him pick. After there was no response to the third doorbell ring, he had turned to knocking at your door - rather loudly, at that. 

“Taehyung, go away!” you snap, knowing that the walls are thin enough for him to hear you. “I told you I don’t need company tonight. I’m busy. Go get drunk alone!” 

“It’s me.” 

The glass slips from your hand but by some miracle, you manage to catch it before red wine stains your favorite pastel yellow comforter - the shock had made you lose your focus and your grip, because never for the life of you did you think you’d hear Yoongi on the other side of the door. 

You still didn’t want to open the door but something told you that he won’t be leaving anytime soon. Besides, you can’t push that conversation away for too long - maybe it’s better if you have it here and now, you backed up with liquid courage and with no witnesses around. 

Sighing, you stand up from the most comfortable sofa the world has ever known and waddle towards the front door to your apartment, wrapping yourself even tighter in your comforter. With one deep breath, you unlock and open the door. 

You are not surprised to see him breathless, dishevelled even. It’s also easy to notice the relief on his face - it’s so obvious it’s practically palpable. He thought you wouldn’t open the door and would continue to ignore him. Perhaps you should have, but it’s too late for that. 

“How did you find out where I live?” you ask the most obvious question, hoping for a simple answer. He and his family are loaded, which was something you didn’t know last Friday when you approached him. The last thing you need is to know that with a bit of money, someone can find personal information about you. 

“Taehyung told me,” he answers. “No!” he immediately jumps up when he notices your reaction, the eyeroll paired with the jaw clench. “Don’t take it out on him, I practically begged him to give me an address and I think he only did it to save his job.” 

“Did you threaten him?” you are bewildered. 

“No!” he almost yells, very obviously offended. “Of course not. I’m not going to… use my wedding as a wager. He just knows that in order for stuff to proceed normally, or as normal as they can actually be, we need to… well… talk. So don’t blame him.” 

“I’m not sure if a talk is necessary,” you are reluctant. Deep down, you know that it truly is - it’s just that you really don’t want to do it. “I can separate my private and business life with ease. From the moment you stepped foot in my office, you became nothing more than a client - a client whose wedding I have to plan and I think it’s both in your best interest and mine for it to all go smoothly. And it will, I can assure you.” 

“Y/N,” he sighs, leaning his hand on your doorframe - he looks tired, worried, as if it has been eating him out the whole day - it probably has. “Are you not even going to give me a chance to explain myself?” he asks. 

“Is there a need for that, though?” you wonder. “We met by accident, we had coffee. A few texts were exchanged and that’s it. You did not lie to me about your… relationship status and I was dumb not to ask. You didn’t wrong Sojung, you didn’t wrong me. As far as I’m concerned, there’s nothing to explain - the only thing that needs attention is how we will proceed from now on and I insist that it is nothing but professional. No friendly banter, no texts, no calls - in fact, you probably should delete my number and only use my business one if we need to discuss wedding details. You can rest assured, you are nothing but a client in my eyes.” 

You’re not lying. In your eyes, that’s all he is. In your mind though, perhaps even in your heart, if only in traces, he’s still the guy that you clicked with with ease you don’t know you’ve ever experienced before. Which doesn’t mean that you can’t ignore it - you know you can. 

“I understand that you don’t want to listen to an explanation but can you at least give me a chance to say one, for my own sake?” he pleads with you. Knowing that there is nothing he can say that could make you change your mind, you decide to give in, stepping aside and opening the door to your apartment fully and signalling him to walk in. After a second of hesitation, he walks inside, not moving past the hallway - you’re thankful for that, as you really don’t want him to overstay his welcome. 

“Okay, let’s hear it,” you sigh, wanting him to know that this is not pleasant for you, if he wasn’t even aware of it already. Looking him over, you notice how jittery he is, reminding you of how he was wiping his hands on his jeans back when you were at the café. Switching from one leg to another, he runs a hand through his platinum blond hair, taking a deep breath almost as if he is bracing himself. 

“The first thing that you need to know and that I’m not sure if you’re aware of, is that my marriage with Sojung is arranged,” he starts. So it turns out that Taehyung’s hunch was on point - good on him, you weren’t able to figure it yourself. “We have known each other for years and I do consider her… a friend, I suppose. But there are no romantic feelings between us, even though we are going through with the wedding.” 

“It’s surprisingly common,” you nod your head disinterestedly, looking away from him and around the hallway, not wanting to look at him and his pitiful face for too long. “I’ve organized plenty of weddings for couples that were marrying for nothing more than duty. And quite a few of them are happily married now, too, so there’s hope for Sojung and yourself.”

“Y/N, it’s not like that,” Yoongi sighs, pausing for a moment as he shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter. That’s not the reason why I’m here - that’s not the explanation I owe you.” 

“You don’t owe me anything but the price of my wedding planning services.” 

“I never planned on approaching you,” he continues as if you didn’t interrupt him at all. “I didn’t even see you before you approached me. I don’t know what I was thinking, or if I was thinking at all. I just… really enjoyed spending time with you and I wanted to get to know you better. The last thing on my mind was Sojung. And that’s unfair to both of you.” 

“It is, especially to her,” you agree. “But again, other than a minor lapse in judgment, you did nothing that is more than… morally gray area wrong. I was the one who approached you and other than flirting that led to absolutely nowhere, nothing else happened. If you want to come clean about it to Sojung, you have my blessing,” you add with a shrug. If that is what will make him sleep better at night, he might as well do it. You did not know him before, you have no metaphorical blood on your hands. “I, however, have a job to do and I plan to do it well. Once again, I’d appreciate it if our communication from now on is strictly professional and as far as I’m concerned, you are nothing but a client. And if you do want to tell Sojung about what had happened, I will act accordingly and understand if you do not want me in charge of your wedding. Taehyung could do it alone, or with the help of another of the planners in our company - we have plenty that you can pick and choose from.” 

“It’s not about that,” Yoongi seems irritated with you now, or perhaps with himself, but you couldn’t care less. “I’m just sorry I didn’t tell you everything from the get-go. I know we didn’t touch on the subject but I should have raised it myself.” 

“Tell me one thing, though,” your curiosity got the best of you and there was a tiny, miniscule part of you that was incredibly salty about this whole ordeal and wanted to kick him in the shin - you went for the verbal version of that. “Were you going to tell me at some point? At the dinner you tried to schedule? Or before that? Or ever, really?” 

His reaction is almost painful to watch, the guilt and cringe taking over him. It’s enough to make you realize that no, he did not make specific plans to tell you. At some point, he might have, but he did not plan it. 

“That is all I needed to know,” you nod with a kind but incredibly fake smile. “You should get going, Yoongi. I need my rest and so do you - we have a long day ahead of us tomorrow - there are venues to pick” 

It’s obvious that he wants to say more, that he is not done speaking but what it is that he wants to say will remain a mystery to you - possibly even to himself, seeing how he is struggling to put the words out. He might want to say more but you’re no longer interested in listening - as far as you are concerned, everything between you is sorted. You emphasise that point with opening your front door and signalling him with your hand to leave, the exact same way you signalled him to come in just a minute ago. For a second, only a second, he hesitates but he listens to you and leaves, turning around to face you on your doorstep. 

“If you change your mind and want to talk more, you have my number,” he tells you. 

“And you do not have mine - remember, only the business one. As far as we’re concerned, my private phone number is out of service. Have a good night, Yoongi. I’ll see you tomorrow,” you don’t wait for a goodbye but you don’t slam the door in his face either, instead choosing to close it softly, locking it immediately. You stay in place until you can hear him walking down the stairs to the floor below - only when you’re sure that he’s left, you return to your sofa of comfort and the trusty glass of wine. 

Taehyung will have to pay for giving him your personal information - while you understand the intention, it is not something you are cool with, seeing as Yoongi already knows entirely too much about you. That being said, at least you can put it past you now - you are free to go about organizing this wedding like the pro that you are. 

It’ll be over in about a month, anyway. And after that, you won’t have to deal with Yoongi in any shape or form, and for now, that’s good enough to make you truck through this ordeal. 

“Are you sure that you’ll be okay with the two of them alone?” Taehyung asks you for what has to be the fifth time, despite your answer always being the same. Wrapped up in your coats and scarfs, the two of you are in the parking lot of the large woodside villa, leaned on your respective cars, as you wait for Sojung and Yoongi to make an appearance - they are not late, but like the control freaks that you are, both yourself and Tae have arrived early. 

“How many times have I told you that I’ll be perfectly fine?” you ask in annoyance, now starting to grow seriously bothered with his constant need to check in on you. He has your wellbeing in mind, you know - but it’s still annoying. “That’s the whole reason we drove here separately. We’ll check this place with them together, and then you can go rescue the baby shower from a pending disaster - I’ll take care of the second venue and no, I won’t break down because I am alone with them. You know that, so stop bugging me already.” 

“I’m just worried Y/N,” he sighs. 

“I know,” you nod, rolling your eyes. “But if I assure you multiple times that it’s all fine and dandy and that the issue had been sorted last night, I expect that you can listen to me and respect that. I’m not a teenager, Tae. This is my job - I am capable of handling this.” 

“Okay, if you say so,” he lifts his hands up in surrender but you have a suspicion that this won’t be the last time he checks on you today. Whether he is doing it as your team member or as a best friend - you don’t know and it doesn’t matter. You’ll reassure him and tell him off if need be. “I just hope they arrive soon, cause I’m freezing my nuts off over here.” 

“Well, Sojung always was punctual,” you comment with a shrug. “Which can’t be said for her groom, if yesterday’s meeting is anything to go by.” 

“See!” Tae exclaims so loudly, it startles you. “You won’t even say his name! I know you are bitter and have every right to be but that confirms that you aren’t okay with this.” 

“Min. Yoongi,” you deadpan. “I can damn well say his name, Taehyug. Let it rest - you’re the only one that’s keeping this conversation alive - both Yoongi and I have buried it already.” 

“Wait a second, Sojung is calling me,” Tae interrupts your conversation and you barely listen in to what he’s telling her, instead choosing to shuffle the snow around with your feet. While you understand the worry, you wish that after all these years, Taehyung could have more faith in you and your professionalism. Granted, this situation is anything but normal but you know better than to put your job at risk for a guy - especially a guy you had barely gotten to know by the time you realized he’s the last person in the world you want to get close to. 

“Sojung is not coming,” Tae tells you and for a moment, you’re taken aback by this information. Instantly, you wonder if Yoongi had told her something and she wants nothing to do with either him or you. “She has an urgent meeting for her non-profit and she is apologizing profusely,” he explains. 

“Damn it,” you sigh. You guys needed their final decision for the location today - if you have to postpone the whole thing, especially after driving all the way out of town… what a waste of time. “When does she want us to reschedule it for?” you are already scrolling through your calendar, trying to find a time to squeeze her in before a bridesmaid dress fitting for another wedding and a bachelorette party that you are organizing this weekend. 

“She doesn’t,” Taehyung laughs - both his reaction and the information confuses you. “That’s why we’re in a pickle. Yoongi is minutes away and she trusts completely that he will be able to make the decision himself. Basically, it’s gonna be his call.” 

“And I’m going to have to go to the next venue with him alone, won’t I?” 

“Yup,” Taehyung confirms your suspicions. “Unless you want me to stay here and get someone else to cover the baby shower. I’m sure Sana will find someone to fill in-” he stops talking as you raise your hand, shaking your head at him. 

“Nope. Not needed. I’ll handle it and we’ll have the venue selected by the end of the day,” you reassure, both him and yourself. “I’m amazed that Sojung doesn’t want to be a part of this, though. I mean, she did, she was supposed to be here but… did we ever have a bride that didn’t want to be included in the venue selection?” 

“Never,” a chuckle leaves Taehyung as he shakes his head in disbelief. “In most cases, it’s their word that counts more than the grooms. This one is a first.” 

“Guess it really is an arranged marriage after all,” you mutter under your breath, deciding that kicking snow with your boots was once again more interesting than being the subject of Taehyung’s worried gaze. It was getting annoying to the point of you feeling actual relief when you could see a car driving towards the parking lot, easily recognizing Yoongi’s platinum hair from behind the windshield. Yes, it had gotten to the point when him joining you is considered a relief. 

Less than a month. Less than a full month and this will all be over. 

“Hi everyone,” he greets you as he jumps out of the car, one entirely too big for someone living in the city - perhaps he doesn’t live in the city - like many other things about him, you didn’t ever find out where he actually lives. Greeting him with a formal nod, you follow Taehyung as you meet him halfway. “Did Sojung explain already?” 

“Yes, we know she won’t be joining us,” Taehyung confirms. “We’ll guide you through this venue and give you as many details as possible. Unfortunately, I will not be able to go with you to the second venue that you’ve selected - Y/N will be in charge of that,” he signals towards you and you force yourself to smile kindly. 

“Yes, I will be the one guiding you through that one and explaining all the details. That is, of course, if both Sojung and you are fine with that,” you add, still wondering if there’s a chance of Sojung changing her mind and wanting to see the place herself - that would make you waste your time twice, and to you, time is money. 

“Oh yes,” he nods quickly. “We’re on the same page about all of this. She liked both venues, she’s fine with me making the final call,” he tells you. Huh. Soulmate behaviour, right there. 

“Alrighty then,” Taehyung chuckled nervously and it makes you wonder if he might be the one feeling the most uncomfortable out of the three of you. You are completely free of emotion, stoic and professional, while the nervousness that Yoongi was exhibiting last night in your hallway is nowhere to be seen. The only one that appears to be uncomfortable in any way is Taehyung and you can’t blame him - but after his earlier overprotectiveness that annoyed you, you don’t particularly care to help him either. “Let’s see what we have here, shall we?” he asks, leading the way towards the grand entrance of the villa. You silently follow, letting Yoongi walk before you, hoping that this day will somehow pass faster. 

“The decision, ultimately, is about how many people you want at the wedding,” you tell Yoongi as you turn in place, standing in the place where couples normally put their wedding arches. “This one is smaller, fits less people and once we add all the floral arrangements and decor, it’ll look even smaller. It feels… more intimate, more meaningful. The villa is perfect if you have a bunch of family and friends to whom you want to flaunt your wealth,” you joke, but your smile disappears quickly. “But at the end of the day, it’s all about what Sojung and you want - small and meaningful or grand and wealthy.”

You watch as Yoongi runs a hand through his hair, sitting on one of the presented guest chairs, one that would be on the side of the groom - the seat belonging to one of the parents, usually. You wonder if the hair thing is something he does when he feels nervous or uncomfortable because right now, he looks like a mixture of both. 

“It’s all about what we want,” he repeats your words under his breath. It is easy for you to pick a favorite between him and Sojung - at least every move that she makes doesn’t show that this is an arranged marriage she isn’t interested in. Or maybe, you’re the problem - he did not seem this down when Tae was with you. “Is it normal for people not to know what they want for their own wedding?” he asks, lifting his head up to look at you. 

“Oh, absolutely,” you laugh. “More often than not, they have no idea. And if you get someone who knows exactly what they want, they are usually incredibly hard to please. It’s alright to be indecisive. It’s okay to want more time to think about it. Hell, it’s okay to tell Sojung to make the final call - but at the end of the day, it really is about what you guys want. Nothing else should matter.” 

“It’s an arranged marriage,” he says sarcastically. “Neither of us wants anything.” 

“Well, being two grown adults, you probably should have considered that before agreeing to it,” you point out the obvious, only to curse yourself on the inside. You’re doing it - you are crossing the professional line and that’s something you’ve promised yourself that you will not do. “Ideally, you get married only once. So yeah, it is about what you want. And if you don’t want anything, then it’s the lesser of two evils. Do you want 40 people at your wedding or 400? Do you want food made a la carte, pre-decided menus or a buffet? I can offer you advice based on other arranged couples whose weddings I’ve organized,” you add. 

“Please do.” 

“They always go for the lesser of two evils,” you shrug. “Few guests, especially if everyone attending knows it’s arranged. Pre-decided menus, one to pick out of four, including a vegan option, of course, that they get on the RSVP. Short reception time, no honeymoon. That’s what they go for. If that’s what you guys want, I can make it happen.” 

“No,” he shakes his head, finally seeming decisive. “It might be arranged but I harbor no ill feelings for Sojung,” he tells you and this time, he’s crossing the line - you’re letting him, too. This is not a topic we should be discussing. “I don’t know her well but I know her well enough to know she doesn’t want 400 people attending. We’ll go for this venue and work on the details as we go,” he tells you and you nod, quickly jotting it down into your notepad - you are as old school as possible, always with your notepad and trusty purple pencil. 

“I will be speaking to Sojung later today, since we have to schedule the wedding dress shopping for tomorrow,” you inform him. “I’ll ask her myself if she agrees, but I suggest you do it first - it’s only fair. And if you are both on the same page, by tomorrow, we will reserve this venue for good, and then we can proceed with picking out the decorations and the rest. I will need both of you to work on your guest list - either individually or together. This venue can hold 100 guests, 120 if we push it. That is your maximum, the minimum can be the two of you and witnesses. The sooner you prepare your guest list, the better - with less than a month left until the 24th, you will need those RSVPs, especially if they include an option to select their own food,” you spit out the information, noticing his eyes widen in panic with the tasks and details you were spilling out. “If you need any help at all, both Taehyung and I are here - even with the guestlist. But for now, I suggest you go home, think about the venue again and talk to Sojung. The rest can be overwhelming, but we’re taking it one step at a time,” you tell him. 

“I never thought that wedding planning could be this… comprehensive,” he lets out a humorless laugh, one that you join - your laughter also lacks humor. In fact, you sound tired. 

“Welcome to my world,” you announce theatrically, before taking a deep breath. “Okay, that’s it for today. Go home, talk to her and start thinking about the guest list. Unless you have any questions?” you add, realizing that you’ve completely overlooked that part of the whole excursion. 

“Actually, I do,” he tells you, standing up from his seat - he doesn’t move or walk towards you, which you appreciate. So far, things have remained fairly professional and you’re trying desperately to keep them that way and not let your façade crack. “Are you even okay with doing all of this? After… everything?” he asks. 

“After what?” you ask, an angelic smile gracing your face. He catches your drift and lets out an awkward laugh. “I am one of the best event organizers in the country, Yoongi. And I’m not fluffing up my ego when I say that - it’s the truth. Especially if I’m working on an event with Taehyung. The little… accident that occured before won’t make me falter.” 

“And what if it makes me falter?” he asks. The question makes your heart skip a beat but you do your very best not to let it show on your face - after all, you’re a proven champion in controlling your reactions. “What do I do then?” 

“I want to say that it sounds like a ‘you’ problem but that’s a bit rude, isn’t it?” 

“Ha!” he laughs out loud, this time actual, genuine laughter. “No, after everything I think it’s pretty fair of you to say that. It is a ‘me' problem. I apologize for even asking - you were too fair considering everything and the least I can do is respect your decision and keep things strictly professional and friendly.” 

“I would truly appreciate it if you’d do that,” you tell him honestly. “I am okay with organizing this. I’ll organize the shit out of your wedding and it’ll be the talk of the town if that’s what you want,” you promise him with a smile. “But the scratch is there - I won’t call it a wound because it’s not what it is. It’s a scratch. A scratch that still stings if you add salt to it. So let’s keep it professional. It’ll make things easier for me, and I’m sure for you, too.” 

“I will do my best,” he promises you. “Thank you, by the way. For doing this.” 

“Nonsense,” you give him your best, charming smile and at this point, it no longer feels fake - it once did, it really did, but it has become second nature to you. Less than one month and it’ll all be over. “It’s my job, after all.” 

When asked, event planners often have different answers to the question of what’s the worst part of their job. Most would probably answer last minute delays or change in plans - and those truly are a pain in the ass. A bunch of people would answer organizing kids’ birthday parties - a whole bunch of your colleagues even refuse to take on events like that, as not everyone is made to work with kids. While it’s not your favorite thing in the world, you can handle kiddie parties and you survive delays and plan changes. What you do hate though, with every fiber of your being, is ending up alone with the bridal party. 

The bridesmaids, sisters, mother, mother-in-law, sisters-in-law and every single woman of importance to the bride, along with the bride herself - it’s always loud and giggly and all too much for an ambivert like yourself. While you do organize your bachelorette parties, you do your very best to avoid attending them, and as an event planner, you often have to. But at those kinds of parties, it’s easy to stay on the sidelines. When it comes to wedding dress shopping, you somehow always end up in the mix and you hate it. You absolutely hate it. 

By some miracle, being the angel of a bride that she is, Sojung does not have a large bridal party - three friends, one sister and her mother - that’s it. No one on Yoongi’s side of the family is here and you know better than to question it - you are just glad you don’t have to deal with 20 loud and opinionated women who want to see Sojung pick out a dress. 

So far, she has tried three dresses, all of which fit her perfectly. On a beautiful woman like herself, even a sack would look amazing. She had an elegant style, picking unassuming and not too flashy or fluffy dresses. Once again, she has proven that she has taste and that she is one of the most chilled brides you’ve ever had the pleasure of working with. 

The dress she is wearing right now makes her look absolutely stunning, even with her make-up free face. You can only imagine how breathtaking she will look once she goes through all the bridal touch-ups and makeup. It’s a simple and sleek long-sleeved dress that goes all the way to the ground and follows her body line almost perfectly, barely widening at the end. The only skin it shows is her shoulders, and if she were to go for an updo or half-updo, you can see it working perfectly. Simply, yet breathtakingly elegant. That somehow describes both the dress and Sojung herself. 

“Yeah, I think this is my final choice,” she smiles at her own reflection, obviously happy with the final result. Her friends and family erupt in cheers which startle you for a second, but you awkwardly laugh and join in on their clapping. Eh, you suppose it’s a feeling you’ll understand when your close friend or you yourself find your dress. Now, it’s just a bit awkward but you are more than happy to have one more item off your checklist. 

“This deserves a celebration!” Sojung’s mother announces. “We’re all going for drinks, the mother of the bride is paying,” she laughs when the other girls start clapping and cheering. “Y/N dear, do you want to join us, too? We’ll be happy to have you,” she adds, and her invitation is nothing short of genuine - you’ve heard her praising you as the best wedding planner Sojung could have asked for. 

“Oh no no,” you refuse immediately, smiling at her. “I have a wedding to plan. Besides, I still need to stay here and so does Sojung, unfortunately,” you say, looking at Sojung herself. “They need to take your measurements and see if there needs to be some modification to the dress. Since we’re running on a tight schedule, we need to have it done today.” 

“Oh, not a problem at all,” she smiles at your explanation. “You guys go, I’ll join you later, maybe even convince Y/N to join us,” she tells her group and after a bit of a discussion about where to go, they leave the two of you with the seamstress. Sojung insists that you join her for the measurement part and you do, without thinking twice about it. Organizing the thing is only part of the job - being the emotional support is another, something you’re not truly warned about before joining this line of work. 

Both of you are quiet as the seamstress dances around Sojung, moving the fabric to see how well it fits and moves on her, looking for absolute perfection. Sojung is looking at her reflection and you notice what you can describe as a sad smile on her face. She catches you looking in the mirror before you can look away, but she smiles at you. 

“You know how they say that once you try the dress, you’ll know it’s the one?” she asks and you laugh, having heard the theatrical “this is it, this is the one” one too many times to count - you don’t hold it against the brides, though. The idea is that it’s their special dress, the one they will (hopefully) only choose and wear once. 

“More than once, I’m afraid,” you joke, making her giggle. 

“Yeah, I imagine you’ve heard it a lot,” she mumbles, turning a bit to the side to look at her own profile. “I thought it would feel like that, too. You hear the stories, you see all the wedding shows and you imagine this magical moment that can’t compare to any other special occasion that you’ve ever experienced in your life.” 

“It doesn’t happen to everyone,” you reassure her with a kind smile once you notice her looking at you in the mirror. “Some brides love the extravaganza. They live for attention. Some women who have other interests and character usually just pick them and are done with it. You’re not the first one I haven’t seen shed tears of joy.” 

“Oh, I get that,” she nods, letting the seamstress turn her body towards you and away from the mirror. Once again, you notice that Sojung doesn’t look nearly as happy as brides usually are - not nearly as happy as she was on other occasions. “I just suppose that it’s started to hit me that this is an arranged marriage, after all.” 

To that, you’re not sure what to say. Her statement explains the sadness, as well as the lack of excitement at finding the perfect dress. Even in regular circumstances, this conversation would be a hard one to have, but given your… familiarization with Yoongi, prior to realizing that he is the groom at one of your weddings, it is even harder. 

“Those are still incredibly common,” you tell her, hoping that you sound reassuring. “I’ve planned my fair share of them. And believe it or not, they have a decent turnover rate. Sometimes better than marriages built on pure and utter love.” 

“Both mine and Yoongi’s parents were married like that,” she tells you. “And we both ended up with loving families. I know we’re not… doomed from the start. It's just… at times it doesn’t feel right. It doesn’t feel entirely wrong either but it also doesn’t feel completely right."

“Getting cold feet is also completely normal,” you reassure her, doing your very best to make her realize that her feelings are more than valid. “It happens more often than you realize, both with brides and grooms. It’s normal, with marriage being such a huge step and change. From my experience, I’d advise you to sit down and speak to Yoongi about it, honestly. I don’t know how close the two of you are but I’ve seen an insane amount of respect you have for one another and one another’s opinions. If you are second guessing yourself, talk to him. It might be more helpful than you think.” 

Or, you could be shooting yourself in the foot and losing a wedding that might lead you to a promotion. Honestly, you’d rather lose the promotion than seeing someone as kind as Sojung sabotage herself. Her behaviour towards you left a bitter taste of guilt in your mouth from the moment you found out who Yoongi actually is - time and time again, you had to remind yourself that it’s not your fault and that you did nothing wrong. Whether or not that had influenced your advice to her, you don’t know for sure. What you do know is that she is too likeable for you to hold anything against her. She genuinely is a decent human being and it would be so much easier for you to go through this if she was a bitter bitch. Maybe then the taste of guilt wouldn’t haunt you - however, it’s something you’ll never find out. 

“I think you might be right,” she nods thoughtfully, a small smile forming on her face. “Even if it’s just a casual conversation, it might be helpful to talk with him about it.” 

“Exactly,” you confirm. “Planning a wedding… it’s crazy. You have so many things to think of, so many choices to make, as well as compromises you might not be ready for. It takes a toll on both sides, so it really would be good for you to sit down and just… talk.” 

“Thank you Y/N,” she smiles at you gratefully. “You’re truly the best.” 

“Just doing my job,” you laugh, wondering in your own head how the fuck did you get from having a crush on a random guy from the mall to having to convince his bride-to-be not to leave him in a matter of days. Less than a month and it’ll all be over. 

“But I want carrot cake,” Yoongi looks like a sulky child - very literally, seeing as he pouts and crosses his arms, acting like he just got grounded by his parents. It’s amusing to see a grown ass man act like that over something as simple as cake - almost as amusing as it is to see a heavyweight businessman with platinum dyed hair - although, in the past week, it had changed to a more neutral color - it’s a more natural blonde, which you are silently grateful for, as it would definitely look better in the wedding photos - you’re sure both Taehyung and Sojung share the sentiment. 

“Look,” you lean across the table, doing your best to hide your smile. “I love carrot cake, too. It’s my absolute favorite, in fact. But the amount of people that can’t stand the sight of it is incredibly high and I can promise you that at least one third of your 60 guests will have their gag reflex activated at the very sight of it.” 

Both Sojung and Taehyung laugh loudly at your explanation, which is entirely caused by previous experience. Yoongi hides a smile but he is still pouting, still pissy about his damn carrot cake. And you get it, you truly do, but the wedding is not just about him. 

“Y/N makes a very accurate point,” Taehyung backs you up. “The safest bet is to go with the classic - chocolate, vanilla, either or both. That way, even if you have someone who absolutely hates chocolate and or vanilla on your guest list, they’ll have no right to complain because it’s a classic and they’re absolutely weird as hell for not liking it.” 

“You two are so funny,” Sojung laughs, before turning to Yoongi. “I do want to honor your love for carrot cake, though. Is there a way to make it happen? Like… one tier?” 

“Of course,” you nod, exchanging looks with Seokjin, your favorite pastry chef in existence. 

“For 60 people, we can look at a medium sized three tier cake,” he explains. “Carrot cake tends to be more moist than regular chocolate sponge, so it would have to go on the very top, as the smallest tier. Which also makes sense organization wise, since the groom and Miss Wedding Planner over here are the only two people who’ll want to eat it.” 

“Oh shush,” they all laugh when you smack him on the shoulder with your trusty notebook. “Can you make it happen or not? Three tiers, bottom two chocolate sponge with vanilla cream filling and top carrot cake? Or should I take this to your biggest competitor who I know will gladly bend over backwards to make the cake happen?” you tease him, laughing at the scowl he sends your way. 

“Sold,” he grunts. “Now, let’s see what the two of you want the decor to be like. Here you have some examples,” he tells them as he pushes his cake portfolio towards them. “Of course, if you have some specific ideas other than carrot cake on top, I can make it happen. Take your time to look through it.” 

As expected, Sojung and Yoongi reach their decision easily, choosing to go for a simple, white, three-tier cake that will include the same winter flowers that Sojung’s wedding bouquet will have. Sooner than you thought is possible, the two of them gave Seokjin their blessing and were on their merry way, leaving you and Taehyung with your friend and frequent partner, as well as a bunch of cake to eat. 

“I can’t believe you’re that unlucky,” Seokjin laughs as you stuff your face with more cake - the carrot one, of course. “One time you meet a guy, the one time you’re ballsy enough to make the first move, he ends up being a client. I couldn’t be as unlucky as you are even if I tried.” 

“Tell me about it,” you mumble with your mouth full. “I was fuming when I first figured it out, but I’ve had time to cool off. So far, it’s been smooth sailing.” 

“Yeah, except both of them have expressed having cold feet,” Taehyung rolls his eyes. 

“Which is perfectly normal,” you pause to swallow - no more pigging out for you today, you’ve already must have had three full slices, even if you know damn well how each of the cakes Seokjin had presented tastes like. “Besides, you saw them today. They’re fine and dandy.” 

“I beg to differ,” Seokjin laughs. “They’re friendly, not fine and dandy. My theory is that by the time the wedding day is here, Mr. Groom will realize he’s madly in love with you.” 

“Please,” you roll your eyes. “That’s not going to happen. Sojung is a damn catch and he knows it. He was able to pretend like nothing had ever happened.” 

“You talk as someone who doesn’t realize the way he looks at you when your eyes aren’t on him,” Taehyung tells you. “Oh! Wait!” he gasps dramatically. “You are someone who doesn’t realize how he looks at you when he knows you’re not looking at him.” 

“Interesting - is he looking at me in a way that says I’d totally date you if you weren’t planning my wedding or is it a different kind of vibe?” you snap at him, annoyed at his suggestion. Yoongi might not be the man of your dreams but he sure as hell isn’t stupid - and you are fairly certain that if he is sneaking glances at you, they aren’t of the nature Taehyung thinks they are. “Meeting him was nothing more than a happy accident. Finding out that I am organizing his wedding was an unfortunate accident that saved my ass from possibly being hurt somewhere down the line. He has been fully cooperative and almost completely professional - and you, my dear friends, are imagining things. You want gossip and drama and the groom having a thing for me would provide you with both.” 

“While I can’t argue with that,” Seokjin starts, to which both you and Taehyung laugh. “It doesn’t mean it’s not the truth. I’ve spent half an hour with them and I promise you, he had eyes for you more than for his bride to be.” 

“Arranged marriage,” you explain. “They’ll be alright and I’ll be promoted. All is well.” 

You refuse to continue the conversation. As far as things go, you are more than happy with the current state of your relationship with Yoongi - as you’ve said, it is strictly professional, with a few jokes here and there - no different than the one you have with Sojung. By the time you watch him greet her at the end of the aisle, you’ll leave all the bitterness behind you. It still might be here in traces, but by then it’ll be long gone. 

You might even take up Sana on the offer to set you up with a friend of hers - she’s been mentioning him for ages, insisting that he’d be perfect for you. You refused her multiple times, saying you are fine as you are and you aren’t looking for anything but things have changed. As long as he’s not engaged to be married (and your client, at that), you might just give it a go and fully leave the Yoongi mess behind you. 

“And what about a live band?” Sojung asks, as the two of you follow Taehyung through the many rows of the exact same gift shop that you and Yoongi had met in - he is following the two of you in silence and it’s difficult to tell how he feels about coming back here, but it was nothing more than an accident, since Taehyung had picked the place and as far as you know, he has absolutely no idea where exactly your and Yoongi’s meeting took place. 

“That’s something Taehyung and I disagree on, big time,” you tell her honestly. “You’ll hear two differing opinions. He’ll always go for a live band at weddings and I’d rather you just give a list, hire a DJ, tell him which songs are a must and which are a skip and be done with it.” 

“Why are you against a live band, though?” Yoongi interrupts your conversation. 

“Well, too many things can go wrong,” you explain, continuing to walk with Sojung, not even sparing him a glance. “From broken equipment, a drunk lead singer, a bass player who tries to chase around the bridesmaids… you name it - we’ve seen it.” 

“Yeah… no live band?” Sojung suggests, looking back at Yoongi and you turn to face him too, just in time to catch a nod. 

“No live band,” he agrees easily. 

“Well, that was easy,” you joke. “I know a few DJs but if you have an idea of what kind of music you want, it doesn’t really matter who you’ll pick. You’ll just need to come up with a list of songs you want or would like to hear, as extensive or as minimal as you’d like - and the general genres, as well as if there are some songs you absolutely do not want to hear.” 

“I think you might have just found your first hurdle with us,” Sojung starts laughing. “What? Why? How?” you are on full alert. 

“I like… pop music. You know, the top 40 stuff. Yoongi, however, is a huge fan of hip hop,” she informs you. This causes you to stop in your tracks and turn around. Yoongi freezes in place too, confused by the judgmental gaze you give him. 

“You like hip hop?” you ask, finding it hard to imagine him listening to Snoop or Eminem. It just… doesn’t go with the businessman person that he has. Then again, it goes perfectly with the confused dude in a beanie that you’ve met. 

“I do,” he answers, slowly. “Am I not allowed to?” 

“No, no, you absolutely are,” you shake your head, snapping out of it quickly. “I’m just surprised, that’s all,” you explain, and turn back to Sojung, remembering that she is still very much next to you, listening to the entire exchange. “You’re going to have to find a middle ground there, I’m afraid. I just need a final list and you need to compromise.” 

“I’m fine with the top 40,” Yoongi shrugs as he walks side by side with you. “I mean, I doubt our parents would be particularly interested in dancing to Big Poppa.” 

You laugh so loud, it actually makes Taehyung stop from in front of you and turn in surprise. Both Sojung and Yoongi laugh at your reaction, but you want the ground to swallow you whole. Not only do you have a very specific, embarrassing surprise laugh, but you really do not to fluff up Yoongi’s ego - and you just did that. 

“Sorry about that,” you laugh awkwardly. “Now, let’s go and create those goodie bags.” 

Goodie bags are something that Tae is particularly fond of, therefore, he is often in charge of selecting the content with the couple. You simply tagged along because you need to make sure that he doesn’t go overboard with the pricing - between the two of you, you are the one who tends to keep her eye on the budget. 

Luckily, it’s Christmas season and the wedding is very much centered around it, which gives you a plethora of choices. They’ve selected one cute silver ornament to go in each bag, so yourself and Taehyung ended up with having to pick more than sixty (experience had taught you to always get more than the needed number) ornaments of the same designed and load up your cart, while Sojung and Yoongi walked around the store, looking for more ideas. 

“Why are you glaring at them?” Taehyung asks under his breath once he notices that your eyes are not on the cart, nor the ornaments, but on the two of them, walking around. 

“I’m not glaring at them, I’m watching them,” you offer him a frown. “I’m still a bit worried it’ll all go to shit and we’ll end up with a cancelled wedding, if I’m being honest. They get along well but it’s so obvious that they… don’t really want this. It’s kind of sad to watch.” 

“Tell me honestly - would you want that to happen?” Taehyung asks, causing you to shake your head immediately. 

“Absolutely not,” you answer in a heartbeat. “For one, we’d lose a big wedding. And that’s just the most superficial reason. That happening would probably end up hurting a whole lot of people, probably the two of them, too. And last but not least - it wouldn’t change anything for me. I don’t know why you seem to think that I’d jump at the chance. I consider that chapter to be done, that book to be closed.” 

“I know you do,” Taehyung reassures you in a low voice. “I just wonder if you’d open it if things were to change.” 

“Seeing as we’re currently packing their goodie bag gifts, I doubt we’ll ever have to find out,” you point out the obvious, proceeding to add more ornaments to your cart. Taehyung butting into your business is now starting to get on your last nerve but you’re still holding back from snapping at him at full force, knowing that this is more about your well-being and not gossip. 

He does keep his mouth shut, at least for now, letting the two of you work in silence before finally pushing the cart to where Yoongi and Sojung were standing. It took you a moment too long to realize which display they are in front of - the candle one. 

You allow yourself to close your eyes and take a deep breath - you deserve a moment to brace yourself. While you are mostly okay with the current circumstances, standing at this very place with him and his wife to be is not fun. It’s not fun at all. 

“What do you think about candles?” Sojung turns around, with two small candles in her hands. “They fit the theme, don’t they?” 

“Absolutely,” Taehyung agrees. “They are a great gift and the tiny ones can easily fit a medium sized goodie bag. You can pick more than one scent - not all of them have to be the same - go for different Christmas themed scents, or maybe even include two tiny ones instead of one larger candle.” 

“I love that idea,” Sojung beams at him. “How about we do one vanilla and one Christmas themed, two smaller ones in each bag?” she directs the question to you. 

“No vanilla,” Yoongi speaks up before you even have a chance to open your mouth. The three of you turn to look at him, but unlike Taehyung and Sojung, you know exactly why he said what he did. And you don’t know what to think about it. He doesn’t look at you, but at his fiance, as he explains. “Someone once told me that the scent of vanilla is a big hit or miss. Those who love it, adore it. Those who don’t like it, absolutely hate it,” he explains. 

“That is… very true,” Taehyung chuckles, but given that you don’t end up on the receiving end of his glance, you think that he has no idea that Yoongi got this information for you. 

“Okay, no vanilla,” Sojung smiles, going for the apple cinnamon instead. Oh, the irony. “This is like one of those you got for Tae and Y/N, right? Let’s get those but smaller. That would mean… 120 little candles.” 

“130,” you correct her. “Always have more, always have a backup.” 

“130,” she nods. “How the hell are we going to get all of these to the car?’ 

“Together,” Taehyung jokes. 

It goes on for another hour, the four of you walking around the store in search of tiny gifts. Admittedly, you should have made a better plan before getting here - all the four of you had in mind were Christmas themed gifts - nothing more, nothing less. It was hectic, more hectic than you’d like it to be, but at the end of the day, you got it done and on the way to the parking lot, all available hands between the four of you carrying bags upon bags, Sojung started insisting that Taehyung and you join them for dinner. 

You had no other obligations to use as an excuse, as this appointment was your last of the day but before you could lie and make something up, Taehyung was agreeing and you had no choice but to join their party of three. Just two more weeks. Only two weeks left. 

“Trust us, getting a DJ is the best possible choice,” Taehyung tells them - if anyone but you notices that he is decently buzzed by now, they say nothing. The wine had gotten to him quickly, like it often does. You can handle your alcohol better than he can, but even you can feel the slight buzz caused from the overly expensive red wine that Yoongi had ordered. 

He and Sojung spared no expense, picking a rather fancy restaurant for an impromptu dinner. And despite your earlier reluctance, the evening has so far been very enjoyable. You were once again proven that both Sojung and Yoongi are likeable people, down to earth and funny, albeit in very different ways. It’s interesting to watch, really. Sojung has such a bright and easy going personality, while Yoongi is more on the quieter side, with a special talent in speaking fluent sarcasm. They are the complete opposite to one another, which makes you think that they are either a match made in heaven or a pending disaster. 

“There’s still more work you’ll have to do there, though,” you remind them as you reach for your glass. “We need at least two or three hours of music to work with.” 

“That one will fall on Sojung,” Yoongi chuckles awkwardly. “I am too big of a snob when it comes to music and I don’t think my picks would get the crowd to boogie.” 

“You’re just like this one,” Taehyung nods his head towards you dismissively, while Sojung and Yoongi laugh at the insulted expression on your face. “She knows her music and doesn’t shut up about it. On the drive here, a random song was playing on the radio, right?” He starts telling the story and you close your eyes, wishing that when you have picked your best friend for life, you went for someone who doesn’t yap so much when drunk. “You’d think she’d just enjoy the song, maybe sing along or something. But no, oh no. Y/N here went on a whole rant on how the song sampled the same song that… Childish Gambino sampled or something, even going as far as giving me an actual year when the original was released.” 

“I’m sorry, I know useless information, it’s just the way I am!” you defend yourself, although you are not really insulted. In a way, it’s easier when you’re the butt of the joke - then you don’t have to make an effort to be funny. 

“Gambino?” Yoongi asks. “Then it has to be Bootsy Collins, doesn't it?” 

Your eyes widen at the same time as your jaw drops, shock coursing through your body. “Oh my god, how the hell did you know that?!” you gasp. 

“I mean, my first guess was Redbone,” he shrugs casually. “And ‘I’d rather be with you’ has been sampled one too many times - although, very well sampled, if I might add. It’s one of the best songs ever created, full stop,” Yoongi agrees. 

At the exact same time, both Yoongi and yourself start singing the chorus of the song, both very off key and you being decently buzzed. “I’ve unleashed a monster,” Taehyung sounds dejected, his head in his hands, while Sojung is laughing loudly at the entire scene. 

“No, Tae, you don’t get it,” you try to explain, your words too fast to sound fully coherent. “It’s the perfectly chill but sexy song and when you hear that guitar and he goes I’d rather be with you-ou, yeah, yeah I’d rather be with youuuuu,” you sing, with enough sanity to keep your voice quiet to avoid further embarrassment. 

At this point, both Sojung and Yoongi are laughing at your… sudden display of passion towards a song - to the point that Sojung has to dab a napkin below her eyes to make sure none of her makeup is ruined by the tears of laughter. Tae is just looking at you, with what you can only describe as a mixture of disbelief and surrender. He can’t with you, he just can’t, and that is something that makes you cackle even when you’re fully sober. 

“I can’t believe I’m stuck with you as a friend for the rest of my life,” he deadpans. 

“Oh bub, the feeling is mutual,” you coo at him, before turning to Yoongi and Sojung to explain. “I’ve known him for more than half of my life. There is no one I love more and there is no one I hate more, especially when we disagree over an event we’re in charge of.” 

“Which doesn’t happen often, at all,” sarcasm drips out of Tae’s every word. 

“This dinner was the best idea we’ve ever had,” Sojung laughs. “It’s very nice to see the two of you having fun and not all… business-like and proper.”

“Now you know us after hours,” you joke, stretching your hand to Yoongi who lifted up the bottle of wine in offer. “At the end of the day, it’s our job and people pay us to make sure that their special days go without a single hitch. We’re hardly changing the world, but we try.” 

“You still make people happy,” Yoongi comments, resting his chin on his hands, looking at you from across the table. “I think that goes a long way.” 

“I agree,” Sojung smiles at you. “We can spend hours here, comparing careers and talking about which one means more, brings more or requires more, but all that matters is that you’re doing something that you enjoy. And making people happy sounds like a good job to have.” 

“Says the one with a non-profit organization,” you jokingly roll your eyes, everyone joining in on the laughter. “You literally change people’s lives on a daily basis, children’s lives.” 

“I do what I can,” she humbly shakes her head. “It’s not nearly enough, but it’s something. And the two of you make people happy, one by one. I know that not everyone will remember their event planner in 5, 10 years time, but we surely will.” 

How? How can she be so kind? So good with words, so sweet and friendly? She’s the perfect girl in every way. With Yoongi’s eyes glued to you, which you can feel clearly even though you are not looking at him, you realize how much easier this would be if Sojung was unlikeable. It would have been so easy to dislike her, even hate her. You couldn’t, no matter how hard you were to try, and luckily for you and your sanity, you really don’t want to try. People like her deserve the world. 

“I too am glad we had this dinner,” Yoongi speaks up - by the time you decide it’s safe to look at him, he is looking at his half-full plate and not at you. “It’s nice to get to know you guys better, since all of us have really been focused on the planning.” 

“It’s our pleasure,” Taehyung tells him. “We don’t often get to,” he starts, only to get interrupted by his phone. “Oops, excuse me, I need to take this,” he quickly gets out of his seat and you worriedly look as he exits the restaurant. 

“I think something went wrong at the bachelor party he is organizing,” you mumble. 

“You think?” Sojung wonders. 

“Mhm,” you nod, staring at Taehyung through the restaurant glass door. “I can tell by the look on his face. Besides, the problems most often occur at bachelor parties.” 

“Why is that?” Yoongi wonders.

“Eh, usually the best man brings over strippers, since they don’t want to ask us to schedule that particular appointment,” you chuckle. “Too much alcohol, too many men. Same goes for bachelorette parties, they are a handful. Let’s just say we’re happy you’ve both decided to skip on those,” you give them a meaningful look, to which they both laugh. 

“Honestly, I thought about organizing something with my friends, but,” Sojung is interrupted just like Taehyung, the sound of her phone ringing literally startling you. “Oh, I am so sorry, I have to take this, it’s about the organization,” she quickly explains. 

“Go, go,” you urge her, watching as she runs towards the toilet, looking for a quiet place where she can take a call. You watch her with a worried glance before realizing that you are suddenly left alone with Yoongi. Taehyung is still on the phone, talking animatedly, angrily even with someone and you look away - meeting Yoongi’s eyes instantly, as the two of you have no choice but to stay awkwardly silent. 

You were doing so well earlier, you were proud of yourself. It was easy to push him away, to be able to go about your day without giving him much thought in any way other than the oh, that’s the groom of the wedding I am helping plan. At night though, when you are alone in silence, with nothing but your thoughts and music keeping you company, you do feel a bit hurt, if only for a brief period of time. You allow yourself to devote a small chunk of your night to grief for what never was and never will be, and smile at him politely the next time you have a scheduled appointment. 

After the venue selection, you haven’t been alone with him and you wish it had stayed that way. With Sojung next to him, it’s easy to focus on what matters the most. With him alone, it’s easy to remember how elated and happy you felt that day, how hopeful you were for what that impromptu coffee date could bring. 

It’s awkward and neither of you can hide it, with you looking away whenever your eyes accidentally meet and him fiddling with the tablecloth like a nervous child. The wine you’ve had can’t be of any help, either. 

Probably a second before the awkwardness became completely unbearable, Taehyung rushes back in the restaurant, looking completely panicked. “I’m so sorry about that - I need to go, ASAP. I already called an uber.” 

“Wait, what happened? Are you sober enough to deal with it? Do you need me?” 

“The best man trashed the hotel room,” he explains quickly as he gathers his stuff - coat, notebook he used to jot down random ideas while you were talking and a few pencils. “I need to get there right away, if I wasn’t sober enough moments ago, I am now. And no, I don’t need help, I can handle it. Enjoy the night and get some rest. Ugh, can you guys explain to Sojung what happened? I really need to run, the car is waiting for me already,” he is already walking towards the door. 

“Yes, don’t worry about it,” Yoongi yells after him, as loud as it is acceptable in a high-end restaurant like this. “You really are on call all the time, aren’t you?” he asks you. 

“24/7,” you confirm, sighing as you lean back into your chair. You worry, knowing how much stress this will bring to Tae. You shouldn’t have listened to him and joined him anyways - at least the two of you can sort it faster than he can alone. On the other hand, you are glad that you don’t need to deal with drunken men. “That makes it sound like we’re surgeons or something but let me tell you, shit goes down at those parties.” 

“I’m glad that the ones I’ve been to haven’t been that extreme,” he laughs. It’s awkward, all of this is awkward - the two of you alone, the forced laughter, everything. You wish that you could somehow use an eraser and completely delete the awkwardness that lingers between you, or even better, turn back time to that day and never approach him to begin with. 

Luckily for you, Sojung approaches the table, saving you from the awkwardness. “Taehyung had to leave,” Yoongi explains to her. “Bachelor party emergency. It sounded bad.” 

“Ugh, now I feel even worse,” she sighs in annoyance. “I’m afraid I have to leave you, too. Sammy called me and there is a problem with the bank transfer and I need to go and solve it, sign some papers to confirm it - I’m so sorry, but it can’t wait.” 

“Do banks work at this hour?” you are confused, seeing that from what you know, banks usually tend to be closed after 9PM. 

“They do when your father is a businessman too rich for his own good,” you can hear the irony in her voice - something that you have liked about Sojung from the get-go - she is not a typical rich girl, despite having all the conditions and money to be so. “I’m so sorry.” 

“We can call it a night then,” you suggest. “I need to call someone to drive me home anyways, it’s better if we end it here.” 

“No, no, no,” she speaks up, lifting her hands. “You guys didn’t even have a chance to finish your dinner, please stay and enjoy the rest of the night. I’ll send over a driver to pick up your car either tonight or tomorrow and you can take an Uber - what time works best for you?” 

“Sojung, I can’t let you do that...” you start. 

“You can and you will,” she rolls her eyes at you casually. “Yoongi, make sure she gets home safe and text me if someone needs to drive her, okay?” she asks, obviously realizing that he is the more likely one to cooperate between the two of you. 

“Will do,” he reassures her. “And you drive safely, please. I know you’re in a rush but… don’t rush,” he reminds her as she, similar to Tae, grabs her belongings. 

“I will. I’m so sorry about this, guys, but I hope you enjoy the rest of your night. We’ll talk tomorrow, okay?” She smiles at you and the moment you nod, she is out of the restaurant, leaving you to sit across the table with a guy who is the literal embodiment of your current ‘what could have been’. 

“I know that you probably want to get this over with as soon as humanly possible but I’d like it if you would at least finish your dinner,” Yoongi is mumbling, once again sounding nervous. If you didn’t see him drink one and only one glass of wine, you’d say it’s because of alcohol but knowing he was definitely the most sober out of the four of you, you know it’s not alcohol - it’s you. And you don’t like it. 

“Things might be a bit awkward but it’s not like I’m a demon and you a crucifix,” you joke, but the moment the words are out of your mouth, you realize how stupid it sounded. “I am okay with this. It’s a bit awkward but hey, awkwardness makes life colorful, doesn’t it?” 

“It sure does,” he mumbles. “If nothing else, at least you can rest assured that I feel horrible.” 

“That doesn’t make anything better, Yoongi,” you shake your head. “God, how could you even think that? You’re making it sound like I hate you or something.” 

“You don’t?” he asks, disbelief noticeable in his voice. 

“Of course I don’t,” you wave him off. “Come on, we’re both grown people. The situation wasn’t comfortable but it’s hardly the worst I’ve had to deal with. You’ve treated me with nothing but respect since. We’re okay. We’re good,” you reassure him. 

You aren’t lying, not one bit - the two of you are okay. Awkward, but okay. However, in your mind and in your head, things aren’t as peachy as you want to make them seem. 

“If it wasn’t sad, it’d be funny, wouldn’t it?” he asks, and you can’t tell if he’s asking you, himself or the universe. 

“What do you mean by that?” 

“Sojung knows, you know,” he tells you. You can practically feel your heart drop at that. 

“She knows that we’ve met before?” you ask, your voice shaky and your mind in complete overdrive, trying to put two and two together, trying to go back and try and see if there was a time when she acted differently around you. “Since when?” you ask him when he nods. 

“Since the day we decided on the venue,” he tells you. 

For the second time in a matter of seconds, you can practically feel your heart dropping. That would mean that Sojung knew that you were interested in her fiance the day you had a heart to heart while dress shopping. She listened to you convincing her that her feelings are valid and normal, all the while knowing that you’ve kept your mouth shut about Yoongi. 

“Oh god, I hate myself,” you blurt out, feeling as if you are going to drown in guilt. With each second that goes by, you remember how kind she was to you and you wonder if it was all an act because almost all along, she was aware of the truth. 

“No!” Yoongi snaps, startling you. “No, it’s not like that. Listen to me - she is very genuine. The amount of respect she has for you has gone through the roof. She liked you before but after finding out that we’ve met before and in which circumstances, she… Y/N, I don’t know her as a husband should know his wife but I do know her better than you do. She truly likes you and respects you even more. She was not bothered by it.” 

“Of course, I’m sure she was over the moon with happiness,” you roll your eyes. 

“I’m dead serious,” he tells you. “She appreciates honesty more than anything and she needed that truth to come from me, not from you. Seeing everything that you have done since, the way that you’ve helped us despite everything… trust me, she does not hold anything against you. Even if she wanted to, she couldn’t - you did nothing wrong.” 

“You should have told me that she knows,” you mumble, shaking your head. “Everything I’ve said to her was honest and true, I was nice because I wanted to be nice. And now she’ll think I was just kissing her ass to make sure I don’t lose the event.” 

“It’s not like that,” Yoongi tries to calm you down but it isn’t exactly working. “Sojung and I… we don’t love one another. It makes this entire situation very peculiar, we are more friends than anything else and we are… doing this while not truly wanting to do this. She understands what had happened that day and she knows that you’ve drawn the line. I’ve told her that, too - how I barely even got you to hear me out and how you were adamant that we will be nothing but professional. This conversation unfortunately breaks that.” 

“I’m glad you told her Yoongi, don’t get me wrong,” you admit. “Among the guilt, there is relief too. I just wish you had told me.” 

“Would you have changed your approach?” he asks and you stay silent. “Be nicer to her? Be ruder to her? Dropped the wedding completely? Or would it all stay the same?” 

You are either incredibly easy to figure out or he is a very good people reader. You can’t tell and you can’t afford to think about it, in all honesty. He knows the truth and so do you - nothing would have changed. You wouldn’t bring up the topic with her, nor would you change your approach. You would remain equally distant from Yoongi and professional with both. 

“You asked me that night if I would have told you,” he continues talking while you stare at your half empty plate of food, focusing on it because you know that looking him in the eyes would make it even worse. “Walking into your office that day made the wedding real. It’s been hanging above my head for a long time, to the point of me always knowing I’d end up with someone my parents pick, since I wouldn’t have the will to put up a fight. But Sojung was the one who was involved with planning - I was away from it and it made the wedding almost fictional to me. It didn’t matter who was sitting on the other side of that desk - the moment I walked into your office, the wedding became real. If someone else was there, if Taehyung was alone - if any other scenario had occurred that day, I would have told you the next time that we met. Because just like Sojung, you deserve the truth.” 

You don’t question the honesty of his statement - nothing that happened the day you met was planned. You can understand that the wedding he didn’t even want was the last thing on his mind. What he did later was wrong, texting and deepening the relationship, if only just plationicaly - but could you honestly say that you wouldn’t be tempted to do the same? If you were in his shoes, expected to marry and spend the rest of your life with someone you don’t truly love - no matter how likeable they are - could you honestly tell yourself that you wouldn’t let yourself have a prolonged moment of weakness like he did? 

No. That’s why you can no longer hold it against him. The two of you had chemistry that was off the charts - if he wasn’t expected to marry Sojung, you have no doubt in your mind that you would have gone on that dinner with him - maybe even more than one. The two of you clicked and the pull for you paired with the fear of going through something he doesn’t really want overwhelmed him. And as much as you want to hate him, hold it against him, stay salty and say that it’s all his fault - you can’t, because you understand. And you forgive. 

“I’m not sure what I can say to that,” you admit, once the silence had become too long, too uncomfortable, suffocating even. “I trust that you would do it, I’m not questioning that. And it’s a bit of a relief, because thinking that you would have played me kind of hurt. But what’s done is done. We’re okay now and I consider everything sorted. When I say that I hope you and Sojung have a long, happy life, I mean it. You both deserve it.” 

“Thank you,” Yoongi chuckles darkly. “The problem is that neither one of us wants it.” 

You know that too, you can see it in him now, you saw it in Sojung’s eyes when she was staring at her reflection in a wedding dress - they truly don’t want it, but are going through with it nonetheless. You know it but you can’t understand it. And while you can’t understand it for the life of you, you can absolutely respect it. Some people are just built differently.

“I’ve told you both - you need to communicate. You are both grown adults - incredibly smart adults, at that. I think you could go well together but it can only work if the two of you put effort in it. And that’s something I have no right to comment on, advise on or honestly, even think about because for a moment there, I honestly thought that I could fall for you,” you chuckle, laughing at just how damn unlucky you are. “And now I’m planning your wedding. But it’s okay. It’s a ‘me’ problem, isn’t it?” 

Yoongi stays silent and you are glad - him saying something could possibly hurt you more than you had already hurt yourself. The thought of a man that you like liking you back being the worst thing you’ve ever experienced is unbelievable. How could it have happened like that? Why did you approach him that day, why did you create this mess for yourself? And for him, too. Because you know his feelings aren’t clear either - you know that you are on his mind a lot more than you should be. And now you know that Sojung is aware of it, too. 

“I need to go,” you tell him, slowly putting down your napkin and pushing your chair away. “If I stay, I’ll end up saying things I’ll regret and I’m smarter than that. Don’t worry, I’ll call someone to pick me up, I won’t drive,” you interrupt him before he can even speak. “Thank you for being honest with me, Yoongi. In another life… who knows.” 

With that, you stand up and leave, taking advantage of him not facing you to approach the bar and cover the bill - that wasn’t part of the plan, he insisted on paying for dinner but your dignity wants you to cover this one, no matter how hard it’ll hit your bank account. 

Texting Sana to pick you up, you take your time on the way to the parking lot, deciding to wait for her in the safety of your car - luckily, Sana always has her phone glued to her hand, so she responds quickly, letting you know she’s already on the way. Knowing that it’ll take her at least 10 minutes to get to where you are, you allow yourself to have a moment of pure weakness - a moment that you have been avoiding for almost two weeks. 

Embarrassed, you wipe away at the tears, the streaks of mascara on your hands mocking you. In the silence of your car, you finally let your emotions out, the sadness, anger and disappointment, knowing that the mix of alcohol and a heart to heart with Yoongi had gotten the best of you. On the bright side, crying it out should help, you suppose. That’s what they say, at least. 

“Who would have thought,” Hoseok sighs dramatically as he makes himself comfortable, twirling the whiskey in his hands while grinning at him. “The Min Yoongi, getting married. What’s that one song called - First of the gang to die?” he asks. 

“Hoseok, I’m pretty sure that’s not what Morrrissey was singing about,” Yoongi laughs at his comment. “Although, the expression fits my predicament, so I won’t complain about it.” 

“Two days left of your bachelor life,” he comments - it’s funny, how Yoongi would have expected that his best friend won't be the one to help dig the hole that he is already in. Every comment of his makes it worse, although Yoongi knows that isn’t Hoseok’s intention at all. “And you decide to spend your official last night as a free man with just me and the most expensive bottle of whiskey you could find?” 

“I’m not in the mood to celebrate,” Yoongi chuckles darkly, twirling his own glass, watching the ice slowly melt and mix with the liquid. Whiskey like this shouldn’t be served on the rocks, but he couldn’t afford to care tonight - not when he plans on having more than one glass. “It’s all arranged. We don’t need to make a circus event out of it - the wedding will only have sixty guests after all, why would I need anything other than a drink and my best man for my last night of freedom?” Yoongi wonders, only just realizing how bitter he sounds. All that comes out of him these days is bitterness and it’s only becoming worse, the closer the wedding date gets. He has two full days and it still feels like a fever dream, a nightmare that he will wake up from at any moment. He keeps on hoping that reality is close, that he’ll open his eyes any second now, but it won’t happen. 

“You still can’t get that planner girl out of your head, can you?” 

Hoseok knows him better than Yoongi would like to admit - it’s hard for him not to, they’ve been friends for more than 20 years. Yoongi might be able to hide from others but whatever it is that is going on - Hoseok will recognize it immediately. “Yes,” he admits without having to think twice about it. “At first, it was even easy to push it away, when she pushed it away, too. Now I’m back to her being all I think about when I’m not thinking about the damn wedding.” 

“I can’t believe it escalated to that level,” Hoseok comments, to which Yoongi laughs. 

“Oh, I can. I just wish it didn’t. It would have been so much easier for all of us if she hadn’t approached me that day - if I didn’t continue it, asked her for coffee, for her number… She, Sojung and myself would have been dealing with a lot less drama if I had used my brain.” 

“At first I was surprised to hear how well Sojung handled it but it makes sense - she doesn’t want this any more than you do.” 

“She doesn’t,” Yoongi agrees. “But she’s also more willing to stick it through. You know, there were a few moments when I thought that she is… hoping that something happens between myself and Y/N. If something happened, it would give us both an excuse that we are too scared to find ourselves.” 

“Then why don’t you look for it?” Hoseok sounds irritated now and Yoongi can’t blame him. “Neither of you want this. You’re grown adults, for fuck’s sake! It doesn’t matter if you like someone else or not - why are both of you agreeing to something that you can avoid?”

“Because it was supposed to be easy!” Yoongi snaps, nearly spilling the liquid from the glass. Realizing how he is overreacting, he pauses to take a deep breath. “It was supposed to be easy and simple, done without thinking. I never cared enough about any woman in my life to want to oppose the idea of marrying someone my parents think is best for me. Now that I do, it’s too late and she’s planning the bloody wedding.” 

“Every relationship ends in one of two ways,” Hoseok starts again. “You either stick it through and stay together for the long run, or you break-up. There is no third option. Either stuck for life, whether in a good way or bad, or forever appart. You and Sojung could end up in both ways. On one hand, I can see you growing to love one another after you have a chance to get used to everything, after getting to know each other better and building… a life together. But at the same time, I can see you ending up an old, bitter couple that resents one another because they wasted the chance of a lifetime for something neither of you have wanted.” 

He’s right - Yoongi has gone over it himself, both in his head and outloud, countless times, both before getting engaged to Sojung and especially after meeting Y/N. 

“I sure am glad that you’ll be the one delivering the best man speech,” Yoongi deadpans. “I can’t wait to hear it, especially if it’s as hopeful as the one you’ve just given me.” 

“Yoongi, cut the crap,” Hoseok laughs at him. “You might be making the worst decision of your life and what for - to make your parents happy? We live in the 21st century, they’ll survive if the woman carrying your offspring isn’t of royal blood,” he rolls his eyes. 

“It’s not about that, you know it,” Yoongi is exasperated, tired from it all. “They just-” 

“Have a son that is a grown ass adult and runs his own company,” Hoseok interrupts him. “And who is allegedly capable of making his own decisions for himself - just as Sojung is.” 

“Are you actually suggesting that we should call off a wedding that is happening in two days? Is that your idea?” Yoongi asks, dumbfounded. 

“I’m saying that for once, both of you, or at least one of you, should do what they actually want. If that’s a wedding, perfect. If that’s to call it all off, perfect. Yoongi, I’d go through hell and back for you - you’re my best friend, you know I consider you a brother. I’m worried that you’ll be making a huge mistake in two days' time, but if that’s your call, then I’ll stand by your side as your best man while you make it.” 

“Ugh, this is not how bachelor parties are supposed to go, is it?” 

“Absolutely not,” Hoseok laughs at him. “Yoongi, you still have two days. If it doesn’t feel right, talk to Sojung. You were honest with her before and you can be honest with her now. Your family, her family, the sixty people that will be there… They all know it’s a deal, not a relationship. People would talk about it for two days and then it’ll all be over. Or, you will clear your head and actually mean the vows that you will say to Sojung. Because what’s been happening for weeks now isn’t fair to you, to Sojung, nor to your wedding planner.” 

Hoseok is right - the problem is, that is a conversation that should have happened the day Yoongi had found out that Y/N is organizing the wedding, not two days before it. Cancelling it, following his heart and not his brain, would only make it worse. Yes, it’s unfair towards all three of them, but changing it would only make it worse. It would be too much for him to do that to them, he can’t do that to them. Not to Sojung, not to Y/N. 

“It’s too late now,” Yoongi decides after a long moment of silence. “It’s already set in stone.” 

“Then here’s to the happy couple,” Hoseok lifts his glass, mockingly toasting Yoongi and his fake marriage-to-be. That’s all it is, after all - a mockery, something fake, something neither Yoongi, Sojung or any of their guests believe in. It’s all it deserves - mocking. 

And that’s just something Yoongi’s going to have to learn to live with. 

Nothing feels more wholesome than seeing all your plans come to fruition. One by one, as the flower arrangements filled up the room and white cloths covered the chairs, you could feel and actually see how it’s all coming together - all the brainstorming, the presentations and sketches, hours that spent into making it all happen - piece by piece, it’s coming together, right in front of your eyes. It’s wholesome, joyous, so incredibly fulfilling. 

Today, it doesn’t feel that way. At least not completely. Yes, you are proud of your work and you can’t help but internally awe at how beautiful everything looks but there’s an air of sadness that covers you - it follows you with every step you take, like a cloud that hangs above you, a reminder of how for the first time in your entire career, you can’t say that you are 100%, truly and genuinely happy for the soon-to-be married couple. 

At least you can say that you’ve handled it with as much dignity as humanly possible. One more day and it’ll all be over - you will be able to say that you did a good job, that you are a good wedding planner and a good person, respectful and understanding. 

“I can’t believe you pulled this off in a little more than a month,” Sojung comments as she walks over to you. “You and Taehyung really are the best planners in the business.” 

“Thank you, but let’s wait until you are married and then you can confirm it,” you suggest with a smile, knowing all too well that something might go wrong - some items might arrive late, someone might make a mess, something might break - there’s still time for things to go wrong, unfortunately. “It really is stunning though, isn’t it?” 

“It is,” she nods. “I’m glad Yoongi ended up selecting this place,” she tells you. The mention of Yoongi makes you feel instantly uncomfortable, which is ridiculous, seeing as he is in the same room as you are, only a few rows away, speaking to Taehyung. His presence didn’t make you feel entirely peachy but talking with Sojung about him - it’s worse. Knowing that she is well aware of what happened between you and Yoongi didn’t change things between you on the outside. On the inside, however, you have been drowning in guilt ever since the night Yoongi had told you that she knows. 

“Everything fits together perfectly,” you sigh, but it’s one of relief. Your heart has given up and is going through it’s grieving process, something that you wish you could stop or at least control better. But you know that everything will be easier after tomorrow, and that is why the sigh you’ve let out is not of annoyance, anger or anything negative - it’s one of relief. 

“It really does,” Sojung agrees, looking over the hall before you. It’s almost done to the point of perfection and it’s exactly the way she and Yoongi wanted it to be - elegant, pretty, but not too over the top. The flowers are your absolute favorite, along with the cream colored tiny Christmas lights that are covering the ceiling - not too many of them, of course - you’re only looking for just a dash of casualness and hipster, not an overwhelming amount of it. 

“All we need to do now is to set up the wedding arch,” you come back to your senses, not wanting to waste time aweing at the scene in front of you when you’ll have more than enough time to do it tomorrow. “We need the boys to help us with that one, I’m afraid.” 

Taehyung, Yoongi and the florist worked together to carry and center the floral wedding arch exactly where it should be, with you being their navigator. It was annoying - a little to the left, a little to the right, just a bit more forward - you could see the annoyance growing within them, making you want to jokingly yell ‘PIVOT’ just to see their reactions - you did not, as you want to live to see tomorrow. After a bit of a struggle, the arch was placed in what you deemed it’s most suitable place, front and center at the end of the aisle. 

“Well, there we have it,” you clasp your hands together, forcing yourself to smile, trying to keep it as genuine as possible. “Go and stand under it, almost-newlyweds - let’s see what it looks like!” you urge Sojung and Yoongi, making shooing motions towards the arch. 

It’s easier than you thought it would be - to see the two of them standing like that, facing one another under the beautiful floral arch. Knowing what Sojung’s dress looks like, it’s easy to imagine her in it and how perfect the moment will be - the photographs are going to be beautiful. They fit each other well and they will look absolutely amazing when it happens. 

But the longer you watch, the harder it is - you see them making eye contact, smiling awkwardly and a lump forms in your throat, no matter how hard you try not to let it get to that. It hurts, you can’t lie - but it’ll be over soon and it is for the best. 

“It looks amazing,” Taehyung comments cheerfully, saving you from having to say it yourself, whether he is aware of it or not. “It will be absolutely gorgeous, I can see you in your suit and dress - everyone will be in awe of you,” he tells them and you find the strength to nod, still smiling at them and hoping you’re not showing the sadness that is overwhelming you. 

“Wait, I want to see what it looks like,” Sojung suddenly pipes up. “Y/N, can you come here for a second? Let’s change our point of view, I want to see what it looks like as a viewer, not as a bride,” she tells you, waving you over with her hand. 

For a moment, you are frozen while your mind goes in overdrive - is she doing this on purpose? If so, does she have a malicious intention? She knows the truth, yes, you know that now, but she always acted the same towards you - always nice, always friendly. A change this sudden doesn’t make sense - you have to believe she isn’t being mean on purpose. That just doesn’t sound like the Sojung that you’ve gotten to know lately. 

You slowly walk towards them and the way she smiles at you confirms that there can’t be any bad intention behind her action. Or you are a complete fool, which you doubt but would that really be a surprise to anyone? Without much of a choice, you switch places with Sojung and stand right in front of Yoongi, staring at the ground below you, at the stairs that lead up to the arch, at Taehyung and Sojung - your eyes darting anywhere, looking and anything and everything except him. You can’t look at him - you can’t, you just can’t. 

You can hear both Sojung and Taehyung talking but you can’t decipher the words - it’s like you’ve blocked everything, every sound and every sight and decided to completely draw yourself in. Is it self-preservation? Probably. But it can only last so long and before you could stop yourself, you lift your head and finally look at Yoongi, only to find him already staring. 

There is… so much. So much unsaid in the way he looks at you, emotions that you can see swimming in his eyes, things that make his mouth open just barely, before he closes it again because he can’t. And you can’t. There are so many things that have to remain unsaid, now and forever and knowing that it’s like that, being faced with it in such a voyeuristic way, in front of your best friend, his future wife and Yoongi himself - it’s too much. It’s too much. 

“I have to....,” you start, blurting out words only to realize you don’t have an excuse. “I have to go and check something, if you’ll excuse me,” the words slip out of you before you can stop them, forming nothing but letting everyone know exactly what is happening - the shame of them knowing, realizing that they know what’s bothering you only makes it worse - you go as fast as you can towards the door, barely stopping yourself from breaking into a run down the aisle. You open the grand door quickly and slam it just as fast, not stopping in your tracks but walking away from the venue, as quickly as you can. 

The weather is ice cold and your sweater doesn’t do much to protect you from it, but you couldn’t care less. In fact, you find the cold comforting, much more comforting than the warmth of the venue - in the cold, you are alone and calm, finally able to breathe after being too scared to even do that. 

You have failed and made a scene - in front of both Sojung and Yoongi, something that never should have happened. You promised yourself, Taehyung as well, that you can do this, that you can go through this without a hitch and for a while, it was the truth. And now you want nothing more than to be as far away from this as physically possible. 

Walking all the way to the parking lot, you settle for leaning onto your car - the metal freezing through the denim of your jeans, but it’s not like you care. Your coat and bag are both inside, one of them holding the keys to your car, leaving you stranded - you can’t leave without going back and you’re not ready to go through that. 

You don’t even know if you want to leave. No, you do - you want to stay, do your job properly and finish the task that you’ve started, like the professional you have pretended to be. Oh, how well you pretended, for weeks. You were even able to fool yourself. And here you are now, in the parking lot, on the verge of tears. For the second time, too - only the first time around, after that damn dinner, you didn’t have the energy to fight the tears. 

Now, you do. You don’t know why - it could be the remnants of your dignity that are preventing you from showing them that you felt so bad, you were brought to tears. Taking deep breaths, you slowly calm yourself down, repeating over and over again in your head that you only have to survive less than 24 hours of this and then, you’ll be fully free. 

“Y/N!” you hear a voice call out for you, your head snapping up in surprise. You figured that if anyone was going to come after you, it would be Taehyung - the last person you expected to see is Sojung, running towards you in distress, your coat in her hands. “You will freeze to death!” she comments worriedly as she approaches you. 

“I’m okay,” you shake your head. “I like the cold.” 

“You will get sick, you can’t be out here like this,” she insists, lifting up your coat. Not having the strength or will to argue with her on it, you slide your hands into the sleeves and let her help you put your coat on. The distressed look is still present on her face - for the first time ever, you see her in what you can only describe as panic. “I am so sorry, Y/N.”

“What?” you are confused. “Wait, what for?” 

“I… wasn’t thinking straight,” she sighs, closing her eyes. Now you know it’s not distress - it’s guilt. The look on her face - pure guilt. “I just wanted to see what it looks like from a guests point of view, I didn’t even think of how stupid it was, how unfair it was towards you, I-” 

“Sojung,” you silence her. It’s unusual but not entirely awkward - both of you are speaking about something that you refuse to name, you are walking around it while being fully aware of its presence - and it’s not working. At least not anymore. “You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for. I understand and I know what you meant by it. It’s me who should be sorry,” you point out, once again feeling the wave of guilt approaching. “That was incredibly unprofessional of me and you do not deserve that.” 

“Y/N, stop it,” Sojung sighs. “You’re human. And this is… a very shitty situation,” she decides after a moment of pondering - it makes the both of you laugh. A very shitty situation, indeed. “I wish that things weren’t like they are, I really do. I’m sorry that it’s hindering you in doing your job and I’m sorry that… this is something that… constantly brings negativity to you.” 

“It’s not like that,” you shake your head, offering her a sad smile. “I love my job and you still are a joy to work with. The… shitty situation is far from simple but it’s manageable. That was  just a moment of weakness, nothing more. Everything will go according to plan from now on,” you reassure her - and it’s not empty. You believe in it. After feeling so humiliated by your own weakness, you will do whatever it takes, move heaven and hell if you must, just not to let it show again. A moment like this will not happen again. 

“We’re making a mistake,” Sojung starts laughing - it’s not a fun laughter, it’s one of panic. “We’re all making a huge mistake. Me, you, Yoongi - all of us, together. And why? Why are we doing this? Why am I marrying him? Why is he marrying me? Why are you planning our wedding? Why do we consciously keep doing things that… don’t bring us joy?” 

You are taken aback by her sudden rant, never seeing that kind of negativity from her before. It makes sense though, she was hiding it the same way you were. And still, none of that negativity is directed towards you. Even now, even now, she is not directing anything ill to you. And at this point, you’re starting to think that you might deserve it. 

“I don’t know,” you shrug, answering honestly. “It’s easier than the alternative? We don’t have an alternative? We’re too scared?” you throw out guesses, random guesses that you don’t really believe in. “It doesn’t matter anymore. We’re still sticking to what we have decided to do. And tomorrow, a new life will start for all three of us.” 

“Will it, though?” Sojung asks. “Will it really?” 

“I don’t know,” you admit. “I can only hope, ‘cause what else do I have?” you laugh awkwardly. Silence falls between the two of you and you take a few deep breaths. “Thank you for speaking with me about this, for coming after me. Thank you for everything, really. I promise you, nothing like what happened earlier will happen again.” 

“Y/N-” Sojung starts  but stops talking immediately when you shake your head. 

“No, it’s all good. We’re good,” you insist, despite knowing that she doesn’t believe you - despite knowing all too well that it’s a lie that not even you are buying at this point. “Let’s go back inside and wrap it up, huh?” you start walking before she can stop you. 

“Y/N-” she tries to speak with you again, but you stop in your tracks, turn around to face her and offer her a genuine smile. You like her - if the situation was the least bit different, you could see yourself being friends with her. But tomorrow, she will be his wife and being close to her would imply being near him and that’s not something you can handle. That being said, when you smile at her, although your smile is sad, it’s genuine, 100% genuine. 

“It’ll all be okay,” you reassure her. “Let’s go back inside.” 

This time around, she doesn’t try to stop you. You walk back inside the venue, with her by your side, both of you acting as if nothing ever happened. 

You avoid Yoongi’s eyes for the rest of the day. 

Two more hours. That’s all it takes. Two more hours and it’ll be over and done with. Well, the actual wedding - the celebration of it will last longer but at that point, you’re guessing that it won’t matter. Or, you’ll simply find out when it happens. 

It was easy to not think about what’s going to happen - you were busy, extremely busy, already at the venue at 6AM after a sleepless night full of tears. Your make-up and outfit was perfect, planned and executed to make you look as professional as possible and hide the things you don’t want others to see. 

Tae didn’t get to question you but that’s all on luck - he was as busy as you are, rushing from room to room, not having a chance to stop and grill you when he had to worry about helping Seokjin move the cake to the refrigerator. The whole morning, the two of you were running all over the place, in opposite directions, either yelling at each other from across the room or on the phone, trying to coordinate your tasks and positions, all while periodically checking in on Sojung and Yoongi - you on her, and Taehyung on him, because you know better than to make that kind of mistake. 

Everything was going according to plan but you can never be too sure - you counted the chairs three times, despite knowing that the number of them won’t change - for all you know, someone could have taken one to climb up and decorate the ceiling and hadn’t returned it to it’s rightful place. Wedding days are hard, but today, it’s easy - you have so much work, you don’t even have time to think, much less feel and for that, you will be eternally grateful. 

“Okay, the hall is ready,” you talk to yourself, looking through what you call the back door - one that leads to a long hallway that which then branches at the end into two separate rooms - one for Sojung and her maid of honor, the other for Yoongi and his best man. You scan the grand hall once, twice, three times, making sure that everything is in the exact place that it should be. The closest family members of both Sojung and Yoongi arrived moments ago, with Taehyung greeting them, introducing himself and taking them down the aisle to their assigned seats. Of course, they can still move around and mingle - they likely will, once other guests start to arrive, but them being here makes any possible trouble increase tenfold - whatever might happen, if it happens in front of them, it’ll be harder to solve. “Flowers, there. Lights, there. Arch, perfect. White covers, there. Mistletoes all over the place, there. Candles, there. Candles - not yet lit. Fire hazard. No bueno - we don’t want that. Will be lit minutes before,” you talk out loud. 

“They say that talking to yourself is the first sign of madness,” a voice speaks behind you, startling you to the point of almost making you jump out of your own skin. You recognize the man immediately - it’s Hoseok, Yoongi’s best man. You haven’t met him formally but you have seen him arriving with Yoongi and recognized his name from countless lists that you have been scanning in the past few weeks. He’s incredibly handsome - the suit fitting him like it’s tailor made - and in fact, it might be. A bright smile is prominent on his beautiful face - he is by far the happiest looking person on the premises. 

“You just cost me at least 5 years of my life, best man,” you frown at him, a hand on your chest as your fast beating heart calms down. 

“Sorry about that,” he chuckles, as charming as one can be. “You already seem to know who I am - may I know who you are?” he asks you, a slight hint of flirtation audible in his voice. 

“I’m the wedding planner,” you reply. His reaction - the widening of his eyes as realization comes to him would be funny, if the situation isn’t as sad as it is. 

“Oh,” he says and you’re pretty sure it sounds more meaningful than he intended it to be. 

“Yes, oh,” you chuckle awkwardly. “This has to be the best ‘OH’ I’ve ever experienced,” you joke, hoping that the humor will make it easier for you and brighten the situation at least a little bit. On surface level, it works - Hoseok starts laughing. 

“You’re funny,” he comments. You don’t know how to answer that, simply nodding with a kind smile. “And you and your colleague have done a great job. The venue looks amazing.” 

“Thank you very much,” you thank him. “I’m about to go check on the bride but how is the groom doing, with two hours left to go?” you ask. It’s not a trick, nor are you hoping that he will read between the lines - there’s nothing there to find. You simply want to know how Yoongi is doing without actually seeing him. You want to make sure that it’s all good and that he is doing okay but not put yourself through the torture of seeing him ready to be married - you will only face that view once he stands at the end of the aisle, and you plan to look away. 

“He’s…” Hoseok struggles to find the right words. Somehow, you once again ended up making everything worse for you - that was not your original plan. “He is doing okay. I mean, we all know what’s going on here, so I’d say he’s as okay as he can be.” 

“Maybe that’s all he needs to be,” you shrug, but you know that your pretend reluctance isn’t fooling him - the way he eyes you up is proof enough. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to check on Sojung and see if she needs any help,” you tell him, making a run for it before he can stop you. You don’t believe that he would, but you’d rather not leave it to chance. 

Before you turn left, to her room, you look at the door on the right and pause, thinking, wondering, if this is your last chance to tell him what you want to tell him. But what do you want to tell him? Is it even something you know? You wish it was different? You hope he and Sojung have a good life? You regret ever approaching him? All of those are true and none of them need to be said or heard. You’ve had your chance to speak your mind and you have closed that door. You’ve closed that door the day he walked into your office and you’ve locked it the night you left him alone in the restaurant. 

Forcing a smile for the nth time, you open the door, walking inside quickly to see Sojung with her sister - she is already fully dressed, veil placed on her long, curled locks, and a face full of makeup done so well it almost looks inconspicuous - the only reason you know about the large amount of makeup that is on her is because you’ve gotten used to watching her bare face in the past weeks and honestly, she’s prettier without it. But the whole getup - the dress, hair, face, veil - it makes her one of the most beautiful brides that you have ever seen. 

“You look absolutely stunning,” you tell her, feeling a sudden wave of emotion - but this one isn’t negative. In a very unusual way, you have grown fond of Sojung, and seeing her like this makes you feel happy - almost enough to mask the sadness completely. “Everything looks perfect outside, I wish you could see it,” you tell her, knowing that the last picture in her mind is of the almost fully decorated hall - you’ve done more in the meantime. 

“Thank you,” she tells you, honesty seeping out of every word. You exchange smiles, both a bit sadder than they should be. Her sister steps aside, allowing the two of you to meet in the middle of the room and when Sojung reaches for your hand, you accept it gladly. “It doesn’t cut it, a simple thank you isn’t enough to express the gratitude that I feel for everything that you’ve done for us. For me. All of it.” 

“Don’t you dare make me cry, Sojung,” you warn her through laughter, fighting back the tears the same way she is. In the weirdest way possible, you have bonded and the moment you’re in now is so raw and genuine, it’s impossible to fight off the tears completely. “You make the most beautiful bride and I hope you enjoy every part of your wedding.” 

“Now you’re going to make me cry,” she chuckles awkwardly, blinking away the tears, looking away from you. You lock eyes with her sister, who observes your interaction but says nothing, although she does have a strange expression on her face. She knows that you and Sojung get along well, but you’re not sure if she’s aware of… everything that has transpired. 

“Can we go outside?” she asks. “Like, to grab some fresh air? It’s all a bit overwhelming and I know that there’s a back door-” she starts. 

“Yes, of course,” you nod. “Do you need a coat? I don’t want you to freeze to death,” you point out, knowing that the dress doesn’t have thousands of layers and the last time you were outside, it was snowing. But Sojung shakes her head, grabbing a hold of your hand again and making her way towards the corner of the room, towards the door that leads to the garden that is normally used for spring weddings. You don’t even try to stop her, not even in an attempt to prevent from getting the ends of her dress wet with snow. 

Luckily, you don’t walk directly into the snow covered grass - the sides of the venue are covered in cobblestone, one that matches the walls. Sojung is safe, so long as she doesn’t slip and you’ve made sure that she is wearing flats - one too many accidents with brides in high heels have happened in your career - in fact, ‘wear flats’ might just be your number one advice to any bride-to-be. 

“Oh this is much better,” she takes a deep breath, her exhale visible from how cold it is. 

“Are you sure you don’t want a coat or something?” you check again, looking around like the fool you are, as if you might find a rogue coat lying hooked on a window or something. Something catches your eye and your head snaps to the right - right on time to see him. 

He’s away from you, almost completely with his back turned - next to him is Hoseok and the two are engaged in a conversation, keeping you safe from him turning around and seeing you. You and his bride to be. 

The world stops. For you, the world stops moving, everything stops and all you can see is Yoongi, wearing his suit, nervously swaying from leg to leg, completely oblivious to you being able to see him - completely oblivious of his future wife standing right behind you, already in her wedding dress. The world stops and you could swear that for a moment, so does your heart. 

As fast as it has stopped, it starts moving again - faster, with you unable to balance it, think clearly or make conscious decisions - there’s only one thought in your mind - you need to leave. In the speed of light, you turn to face Sojung, startling her with how fast you move - she had her eyes glued to Yoongi as well. 

“Sojung, I can’t,” you gasp, realizing that you might start hyperventilating. “I can’t stay. I can’t be here. I can’t. I just can’t. I’m so sorry but I can’t.” 

“Y/N, breathe,” Sojung grabs you by the shoulders. “Breathe and calm down, please. You don’t have to. You don’t have to stay. I understand. We will all understand. If you need to go then go, but now I need you to pause and calm yourself down because you’re on the verge of what looks like a mental breakdown and I don’t want that to happen to you.”

It’s usually you who runs that speech and brides that are panicking - with the tables turned, you can only imagine the state you’re in - if you look anything like the brides you have calmed down over and over again, no wonder Sojung is mildly panicking. 

“I thought that I could but I can’t,” you admit in a defeated gasp, no longer able to hold back tears. “I feel… I just feel. And I can’t. I’m so sorry Sojung, fuck, I’m so sorry!” “Stop apologizing,” she orders you in a calm town. “There is nothing you should be apologizing for. I understand and if you need to leave, I want you to leave. You need to do what’s best for you. If that’s leaving, then go. But I need to make sure that you can get home safely because I don’t think you can drive.” 

“I can,” you reassure her. “I’ll calm down before driving. I just… I need to go.” 

Sojung looks troubled for a moment but what she does next only makes the tears flow faster - she pulls you in for a hug, not caring if she wrinkles her dress or if your running mascara ruins her veil. She hugs you tightly and you let her hold you, the moment of weakness taking over you. You don’t know how long you stay in her embrace but when you pull away, you are no longer crying or breathing heavily. 

“I will never be able to thank you enough,” you manage to utter. 

“Neither will I be able to thank you,” she sounds sad, perhaps even sadder than you. You must be so pathetic and sad to watch, you can’t blame her. “Just… be safe. We can talk later. Go and put yourself first, please. I don’t want to see you broken, Y/N. I don’t.” 

“Thank you,” this time around, you are reaching for her hand and squeezing it. You hold it for a long time before finally letting go and walking away, in the opposite direction from Yoongi - if he is even outside anymore. In hurried steps that quickly turn into a run, you beeline towards your car, thanking your lucky stars that you’ve kept your car keys in the pocket of your blazer this time around. Your phone, too, which you are going to have to use soon because Taehyung needs an explanation and an apology - a thousand apologies, to be more specific. But none of that matters this second - all you can focus on is getting to your car and driving away as fast as possible. 

No matter what he did, Yoongi couldn’t stop his leg from bouncing - his nerves were getting the best of him, that’s for sure. He went to get some fresh air, paced around the room a dozen times, had a strong drink, both talked to Hoseok and stayed silent for a long time. He did it all by the book, even going so far as to do what Y/N jokingly called yoga breathing - deep breaths, in and out, until he finally feels calm again - she’d say it works like a charm with nervous couples. 

None of it worked. Absolutely none of it - he was still nervous, noticeably so, and it doesn’t help that everyone else around him seems to feel the same way. His energy definitely bounced over to Hoseok, turning his usual bright smile to a frown, while Taehyung is as far from his chirpy self as possible. Yoongi has seen him serious before, angry even, if only for a fraction of a second - but he has never seen him this nervous - he checks his phone every other second and when Yoongi is not the one pacing across the room, it’s Taehyung.

Yoongi has ignored it for long enough, but now he’s making him feel even worse, if that’s even possible. “Taehyung, what is happening?” Yoongi’s voice startles him - he looks at him wide-eyed, stopping in his tracks in the middle of the room. “Is everything okay out there?” 

In the few weeks that Yoongi has known him, he has realized that Taehyung is very direct and honest, speaking his mind and expressing his opinion with ease, even though he has a talent of picking his words carefully. This is the first time Yoongi sees him not having an answer ready - he looks puzzled, worried and perhaps even a bit panicked. “Everything is okay,” Teahyung reassures him. “The guests are arriving, everything's in its place, the bride is ready - all is good.” 

He is lying to him - it’s clear as day. Yoongi exchanges looks with Hoseok and he silently confirms it - both of them tend to be good people readers, but Hoseok never fails - if his look tells Yoongi that Taehyung is lying, he is lying. The only question is - about what? 

“Taehyung, are you sure?” Yoongi asks again, hoping for an honest answer this time around. 

“Positive,” he tells him. “Sojung is ready, everything is perfectly decorated, as far as I know everyone’s happily mingling and waiting for the ceremony. Even the carrot cake top tier on your cake looks amazing,” Taehyung cheekily adds, probably trying to distract him. 

It fails - miserably. He mentioned Sojung, the venue, the guests, the cake - all the things that are the most important. The one thing, or to be more specific, person, that he did not mention is Y/N. And that would explain why he’s as jittery as he is now. 

“Where’s Y/N?” 

Bullseye. All of a sudden, his face drops and so does his act. 

“Yoongi, she left,” Taehyung admits, his voice low and somber. “She couldn’t, she just couldn’t. Sojung told me that she had made sure she was calm enough to drive and Y/N texted me. Everything is okay and according to plan but she’s not here. She couldn’t take it.” 

How could she handle it? No, why would she handle it? Why would she stand there and watch him marry another woman when she knows he doesn't want to do it, when she knows that he has spent the better part of the last month ignoring the feelings he has for her. Why would she stand there and watch Yoongi marry someone else when she is definitely not the only one who… feels something. Yoongi can’t and he won’t name it - he wouldn’t do it even if he could - but what he feels for her is more than anything he has ever felt for Sojung. And they both know it. 

“I need to talk to her!” Yoongi jumps up immediately. 

“Talk to whom?” Taehyung is wide-eyed, completely panicking. 

“Y/N.” 

“Dude, you can’t leave your own wedding,” Hoseok jumps onto his feet, practically running towards Yoongi, the hand on Yoongi’s shoulder squeezing him tightly. “Are you completely out of your mind? You’re supposed to be getting married in less than half an hour - if you wanted to run, you should have done it a lot earlier, Yoongi!” 

“I am not running anywhere!” Yoongi snaps at him, annoyed at the way he is berating him. Yes, it’s in his best interest but now’s not the time that he can focus on it. “I need to speak to Sojung, right now,” he tells them, already walking towards the door - both Taehyung and Hoseok try to stop him, yelling words that he can’t understand. “Guys, I have to!”

“You can’t see her in a wedding dress, it’s bad luck!” Taehyung gives Yoongi his final attempt to stop him - to that, he laughs. 

“With the luck we’ve had so far, I doubt it would change much,” Yoongi shrugs, opening the door despite their protests. Walking quickly across the hallway, he opens the door to Sojung’s room without bothering to knock, rudely scaring both her and her sister - there is relief in Sojung’s eyes as she turns to look at him. 

“Yoongi,” she sighs, not moving from where she is standing. Her sister rushes out of the room, probably knowing that they need privacy. Seeing Sojung in a wedding dress is borderline painful - she is gorgeous, absolutely stunning. It hurts to see her like that, a smart, kind and beautiful woman, ready to marry him - and it is not enough. 

Yoongi hates himself for it - it would have been so much easier if he could have just fallen for Sojung. He had every reason to - she is literally perfect. He likes her, she is amazing - but he knows he doesn’t love her and the chances of him ever loving her are… probably non-existent. And having her know that as well makes it so much worse. 

“I can’t,” Yoongi sighs, those words releasing what feels like the weight of the entire world off his shoulders. “Y/N left and I can’t. I’m in love with her.” 

If there is a hell, he will burn in it for all of eternity for saying this to her. He can’t even look her in the eyes - but she can look at him. Slowly, she walks towards him, Yoongi looking at the skirt of her dress until she puts a hand on his cheek. Gently and slowly, she lifts his head up, making him look at her. There is a smile on her face but it is not one of sadness - it’s one of relief. 

“I know,” she whispers. “I know. And we can’t do this. We can’t do this. Not to us, not to her.” 

“I am so sorry,” Yoongi finds himself struggling to speak, choking up with emotions he didn’t even know he felt - guilt, worry, sadness and relief, all at once, at full force. “I am so sorry.” 

“You don’t have to be,” she shakes her head, suddenly chuckling but Yoongi sees the tears in her eyes. “I don’t want this either. I like you, I like you a lot but I don’t love you. And we are not meant for each other. Even if Y/N did not become a part of our lives, we still wouldn’t be meant for each other. And I know the two of you are in love. It hurts so much to watch it - but only because I want to see both of you happy. I want to be happy, too. It doesn’t hurt me because I envy her - it hurts me because I know we’re making a mistake.” 

“How did we let it get this far?” Yoongi asks, leaning his head into her hand as she slowly caresses the skin of his cheek. “How were we this stupid?” 

“We thought we were doing the right thing,” she tells him and she’s right - that’s the only reasonable explanation. “And we were both cowards, waiting for the other one to end it. But we can’t escape it anymore, we can’t be cowards. We need to end it - together.” 

“Are you sure of what you’re saying?” Yoongi asks, his heart going into overdrive as he realizes that his wildest dreams might become a reality - he might have a way of escaping his own personalized hell - not only that, but Sojung can escape hers, too. “Are we really going to do this? Are we really just… going to not have the wedding?” 

“I don’t want to marry you,” she chuckles. “No offence!” she adds quickly, realizing how that could sound to an innocent bystander - but to him, it was music to his ears. 

“None taken,” he laughed, the former feeling of the weight of the entire world falling off his shoulders happening again. Relief washes over him. “We’re ending this? Right here, right now?” 

“Hell yes,” she laughs, taking off the veil from her hair, looking happier than Yoongi ever remembers seeing her. She takes off the engagement ring, too - the one that they had picked together, as his proposal was nothing more than a conversation where they agreed to go through with what their parents want - there was nothing romantic about it, not that he is the type of person to get on one knee anyways. Smiling, Sojung presses the engagement ring into the palm of his hand. “Let’s cancel this - go out there, tell everyone it’s over and that they should enjoy the party. Then I’ll go get a massage and you go get your girl.” 

Not knowing what else to do, he pulls Sojung into a bear hug, the both of them laughing - in these past few minutes, they've had more fun than they’ve ever had together - all it took was to decide to cancel the damn wedding. Hand in hand, the engagement ring squeezed between them, they walk out of the room - Sojung’s sister, Hoseok and Taehyung are all in the hallway, with Taehyung looking like he’s about to drop dead out of shock. 

“Yeah, we’re cancelling the wedding,” Yoongi announces, smiling brightly. 

“YOU’RE WHAT?!” all three of them yell at the exact same time. 

“We’re cancelling the wedding,” Sojung laughs. “We don’t want this. We really don’t, we both have better things to do and we don’t want to trap ourselves in a loveless marriage. It might have worked for some but we’d rather not test the theory.” 

“Are you sure?” her sister asks, the calmest one out of the three of them - it’s obvious this was something Sojung talked to her about - Yoongi should have realized sooner that she didn’t want this any more than he did, and was silently begging him to end it. 

“Absolutely positive,” she smiles brightly at her. 

“If that’s what you want,” Hoseok shrugs. “It’s completely crazy but neither of you has ever been particularly sane, if I’m being honest.” 

“But what about the wedding?” Taehyung manages to stutter, his words reminding them of all the effort that both he and Y/N had put into making everything perfect - that’s the only part of this decision that bothers Yoongi, the only negative side to it. “What do you say to the people? What do we do with all the… How? How do we? Why? What?” 

“Oh, the ceremony is cancelled, not the party,” Sojung laughs - she seems to have a solution to everything. “You can all eat and have fun and dance and celebrate us being free. It’s all going to go according to plan, except the two of us won’t be here. Get drunk. Throw away the carrot cake. Have the best Christmas Eve party ever.” 

“You do know that you have an entire room of guests waiting for you to get married, right?” Taehyung asks, still wide-eyed and shocked.

“Yes,” Yoongi nods. “And Y/N is not there. That says a lot. So we will say it ourselves and people will either understand or they won’t. But we’re doing this.” 

“Let’s go,” Sojung pulls him by the hand before anyone can try to stop them - not that anyone would. Hoseok and Sojung’s sister have both given up and while Taehyung still looks like he’s about to faint, he does not move to stop them. 

They walk, almost run, opening the door that leads to the main hall - at once, all the heads turn towards them and Yoongi can practically see eyes widen as they realize that they are walking hand in hand - this is not how things are supposed to go. Some people stand up, others start whispering but he and Sojung ignore it all, walking to the wedding arch and standing beneath it - both of them are struggling to hide their smiles. 

“Everyone, there’s been a change of plans,” Sojung announces, letting go of his hand - Yoongi still keeps a hold on her engagement ring, placing it in the pocket of his suit. “We’re not getting married. Not now, not ever!” she has to raise her voice in order to be heard over the simulations gasps that fifty or so people have released. Yoongi very purposefully avoids looking at his parents - he knows he’ll get an earful about it later, but he doesn't care. And he also knows very well they will respect his decision. Eventually. 

“We don’t love each other,” Yoongi says, shrugging. “We’re great friends and that’s it. We don’t love each other and we don’t want to get married. So, we’re not gonna do it. We’re sorry that we’ve let it get this far and that you had to drive all the way here - you get to keep your presents and money envelopes - either return them, keep them or re-gift them. Stay, eat well, dance all night long and celebrate Sojung and myself - celebrate us individually. Us doing what we actually want and not what we think we’re supposed to do.” 

People are still talking, Yoongi’s mother even standing up and slowly approaching him - Sojung sees it too and turns to face him. “Go. Now. Go and get her.” 

Yoongi doesn’t have to be told twice. He kisses Sojung on the cheek, both of them laughing as he turns and rushes out of the room, breaking out into a run - Hoseok offers him a supportive hit on the shoulder as he runs out, hearing the sounds of Taehyung and Sojung reassuring everyone that yes, it’s really happening and no, it’s not a bad thing at all. He feels bad about leaving Sojung to deal with it but she has pushed him herself - she knows that he needs to get to Y/N and that he needs to do it as fast as possible. 

Sitting down in the driver’s seat of his car and starting it, driving away from the venue and from a life he was never supposed to live feels liberating - it’s the first good decision that Yoongi has made in a long time. A very long time, really. The last time he made a good choice was when he accepted Y/N’s help in that shop. 

He can only hope that he will have a second chance at making the right decisions with her. 

You need to move. It’s something that’s been on your mind for a while - you have outgrown this apartment a long time ago and now, staring at the crack on the ceiling - not a particularly large or dangerous one but a crack nonetheless - you decide that that will be your next goal. 

Make a home for yourself. Maybe somewhere closer to the office - closer to Taehyung, too. But also not on one of the main streets - you don’t want the noise to disrupt the peace. 

Lying on the floor in your pajamas, staring at the crack in your living room ceiling and thinking about finding a new place is how you’re dealing with… everything. You don’t even know how to name it, or which moment to point out. It’s how you’re dealing with the wedding happening, and with you running away from it, as well as with the notion that you will eventually likely have to explain to several people why you had run away - and you do not want to think about those pending conversations. No, you don’t want to have those conversations at all. 

It’ll all go well, of that you’re sure of. You’ll just have to… apologize to Tae and step in to do him a big favor in the future. The rest can be postponed, hopefully. 

A knock on the door confuses you, shaking you away from the daze you’ve thrown yourself into - you quickly look at the clock, realizing that it’s no way it’s Taehyung - the ceremony must have finished by now but the party is still ongoing and he’d have to be there. You decide to ignore it, not wanting to deal with people right now but as the doorbell rings, you sigh, admitting that it might be important and begrudgingly make your way to the door. 

Opening it quickly, you are frozen in place as you face Yoongi - in his suit with perfect hair, groom Yoongi. Blinking rapidly, for a moment you wonder if you are hallucinating - but no, you are not, he is here and breathless, probably from running up the stairs all the way to your fifth floor apartment. He’s here - full groom. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” you blurt out quickly. 

“The wedding is cancelled,” he tells you. 

“The wedding is WHAT?!” you yell at him. 

“Cancelled. Not happening. Called off.” 

“Oh no, it’s not!” you shake your head, now in a full blown panic. “No, it’s absolutely not! We are going back there right now!” you yell as you try to put on your sneakers but you are shaking, your whole body is shaking and you can barely figure out which sneaker goes on which foot. “We’re going back there right now and you are getting married!” 

“Y/N, what are you doing?” he asks and you laugh at the stupidity of his question. 

“Driving you back to the fucking venue,” you finally manage to put on your shoes, looking back to grab your coat, as well. “You’re going to get married and repay Sojung for this bullshit, I don’t care how.” 

“Y/N, stop,” he puts up his hands in the air and you give him a second - one second alone, one second to explain himself before you drag him by the arm and force him into your car. “Sojung wanted to cancel it too. We’ve reached that decision together.” 

‘Wait, what?” 

“We talked,” he sighs, looking a little dejected - whether it’s because the wedding is cancelled or because you’re asking too many questions, you can’t be sure. “We finally talked and were honest with each other. It was a mutual decision and she was as happy about it as I am. She texted me that she’s having fun at the dinner - everyone is, actually.” 

“Huh?” you can’t ask anything other than simple questions, still trying to wrap your mind around what he is telling you - it’s insane, it’s completely insane. 

“Y/N,” he laughs nervously. “We’re not getting married. Sojung and I dumped each other and told everyone to have fun and celebrate us not getting married. Everyone is okay - well, maybe not Taehyung, I think he almost had a heart attack.” 

“Oh god,” you realize the chaos he is in - the chaos he is in alone. “I need to go, I need to help him. He needs to make sure that everything is taken care of, that what can be refunded can get refunded, that-”

“Y/N!” Yoongi yells your name, shutting you up immediately. “He and Sojung are taking care of it. And according to Sojung, they’re having fun. Can you please stop panicking and let me finally tell you that I’m in love with you, now that I finally can?” 

“You’re what?” 

“In love with you,” he repeats himself. “Way more than I should be, probably. You… have taken permanent residence in my head - you’re all I think about, day and night. I’ve felt so much guilt about everything and being free of it now makes me realize how stupidly in love with you I am. And while I know you’ve felt something for me, while I know that we have chemistry, the wedding being cancelled doesn’t mean I expect anything of you. You can close the door in my face if that’s what you want to do. I’ll go and leave you be. But if you’re going to do that, you can only do it after hearing that I am in love with you.” 

And just like that, your head is no longer spinning, you are no longer shaking. You stare at him, the irony of him professing his feelings for you in his wedding suit, and you can tell that he is being honest. It’s so easy to see it with him - it’s easy to know that he means what he says and that if you tell him to walk away, he will do just that. 

“What… what do you expect me to say?” you manage to utter. 

“Anything,” he laughs nervously. “Tell me to leave, tell me you feel the same way for me too, tell me you’ll think about it - anything. Or even leave me hanging - after the shit I’ve put you through, it would serve me right.” 

“You didn’t put me through anything,” you shake your head. “I could have handed over the wedding to another planner - I’ve chosen to organize it and put myself through it. You made me organize a perfect wedding that’ll never happen,” you laugh, sounding distraught. 

“God, you really are a complete workaholic - that’s the point you want to focus on?” he asks, and while he sounds annoyed, he is smiling at you, a smile that tells you that it’s not half as annoying as it is endearing. Which is crazy, but it’s not like you’re entirely sane either. 

“I’m sorry, I’m wired like that,” you whine. “Seokjin even made you a carrot cake tier!” 

“And I’m sure someone from the 50something people there will enjoy it,” he laughs. 

“Now what do we do?” you ask him, cowardly throwing it over to him. “You and Sojung are over? And neither of you is unhappy about that.” 

“Y/N, both of us were silently begging the other to be the one to quit it,” he sighs, reaching for his pocket - your eyes widen when he pulls out the engagement ring that was on Sojung’s hand - the same hand that you have held earlier today. “I’ll exchange this into a nice pair of earrings for her or something. She still deserves to have it. But we’re good. She told me to come here. I told her that I’m in love with you and she knows. It’s all over.” 

“Except this?” you ask, sheepishly. 

“Except this,” he confirms. 

“And what do you want to do about that?” 

“Start over?” he suggests. “Not in a way that we pretend the last couple of weeks had never happened but… maybe go back to the Yoongi and Y/N that laughed in that coffee shop and texted all night while they should have been sleeping to be rested for all the meetings they had scheduled for tomorrow? If you want to?” 

If you want to. The funniest part is, you don’t know if you want to. 

Up until this exact moment, it was never an option for you. And even thinking about it was venturing into dangerous territory, so you’ve avoided it. Not once did you stop and think about this particular scenario because it… was impossible. Until today. 

If you want to. Do you want to? You don’t know and that’s the closest thing to the truth that you can come up with. What you do know, however, is that you don’t want this to stop. You do want him in your life - and maybe, possibly, try. 

Fuck it. You had the balls to approach him then, you’ll have the balls to risk it all now - before you can give yourself a chance to overthink and chicken out, you are grabbing him by the tie and pulling him closer to you. He stumbles into your apartment but seems to easily catch your drift because the moment he is standing stable, his lips are on yours. 

It’s like a firework had exploded - so much pent up emotion, from both your parts, finally surfacing, finally becoming real and able to be enjoyed. The kiss is a mix of relief, sadness and impatience - before you knew it, you were pushing the suit off his shoulders, in a rush to get him out of his clothes - he, on the other hand, was too preoccupied with his hands squeezing your ass as he all but slammed you into the hallway wall. 

“I take it that you don’t need time to consider my offer?” he chuckles, planting kisses down the side of your neck, laughing even more at your struggle to get out of your sneakers. 

“You haven’t offered me anything,” you point out, laser focused on removing his tie as quickly as possible. “You just showed up on my door and told me your wedding is cancelled and you’re in love with me. I didn’t hear an offer there at all.” 

“Y/N,” he gives you a warning glare. 

“Yoooongi,” you mock him, laughing as you start unbuttoning his shirt, not wanting to waste time and wanting to get your hands on him, acting like the two of you have a ticking time bomb above your head when in reality, you have all the time in the world. “Let’s just… fuck now and talk later, okay?”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” he announces before biting your bottom lip, proceeding to make you let out a loud laugh when he lifts you up with ease,letting you hook your legs around him while he squeezes your ass. He does so with ease, which you find amusing, as you did not imagine Yoongi being particularly strong. Today, he’s full of surprises. 

“The door at the end of the hallway,” you mumble, preoccupied with kissing him - other than helping him navigate his way to your bedroom, you do not want to talk - words are useless and are a waste and the only thing you want to do now is feel. 

And feel you do. 

His skin, incredibly soft to touch and pale, save from the blush in his cheeks - his rough lips, rough from the cold and not in the way he kisses you - he kisses you like he means it, like he has wanted to do this all along, like the only thing he ever wants to do is just kiss you. 

As you run your hands through his hair, you smile at the softness - despite being bleached and colored at least twice since you’ve met him, it too is soft, just like every other part of him. Every other part of him except his cock. 

You feel every inch of his hardness when you grab it in a firm hold, first over the fabric of his pants and then directly, sneaking your hand inside to wrap your fist around it. Sounds that escape him with every move of your hand, especially as you circle around the tip - make you want to do more, move faster, finish him quicker or perhaps prolong his misery. From what your hand can feel, he has a beautiful cock, thick enough to make you swallow a lump in anticipation for what’s coming - and he is so hard, so hard for you and only you - it’s the reassurance you didn’t know you needed. 

You edge him, very unplanned and surprising both you and him as you bring him to the very brink of an orgasm only to stop moving your hand and focus on kissing him instead. You can sense his frustration but that only makes your satisfaction grow. If he doesn’t like it, he can flip you around and fuck you stupid if he wants - but unless he tells you to stop, you’ll edge the shit out of him. 

He doesn’t say anything, rolling with the punches but what he does is retaliate in his own way, sneaking his hand down your pajamas and moving your underwear to the side, exposing your entrance to his fingers. As you start moving your hand along his cock again, purposefully changing the strength of your squeeze, he follows your lead and teases you, circling his fingers along your entrance before moving them to barely graze your clit - it only lasts a second, before you could feel the pads of his fingers back on your wetness. He is definitely retaliating and you can tell, but apparently, you also have more self-control than he does. Without saying a word, you speed up the movements of your hand, making a point to reach and grab a hold of his balls, too - his own movements freeze and he groans loudly in your ear, nearly toppling down onto you. It takes a few moves of your hand against his hardness before he is close again and for the second time, you stop your movements. 

A groan of annoyance does leave him this time around but other than that, he shows no other signs of frustration. You kiss him, smiling innocently and enjoying what he sees as torture. In a way, it is, because he could make you scream his name if he were to press his fingers just a bit harder and rub just a little bit faster, but you enjoy the leisure pace that he has and even more than that, you enjoy the power you hold over him in this moment. 

Third time’s the charm, they say. Yoongi no longer hesitates and his fingers are sliding in and out of you at a changing pace - at times, he is fast and rough, acting as if you will squirt all over him at any moment (which you would have, if he didn’t change the pace), then slow and languid, enjoying the sounds that escape you - sounds of pleasure and not of frustration. 

His reactions are another story - this time, due to all the previous edging you put him through, he approaches the end faster and you are even more ruthless with your movements, dropping his cock completely merely seconds before he reaches his orgasm. This makes him lose it, dropping his body on top of yours, his hand still stuck between your legs as he groans loudly right against your ear. 

“Y/N,” he growls into your ear - that sound alone is enough to make you giggle. This is the only form of retaliation you’ll ever get a chance to have and you want to take advantage of that. Not that you really have anything to make him pay back for - you just enjoy seeing the physical proof of your power over him. How could you not? “If you continue like this, I’ll explode and cum all over the sheets.”

“I don’t see a problem with that,” you giggle. “Well, I do, it’d be a pain in the ass to wash the sheets. You getting to come inside me sounds like a better solution though, doesn’t it?” you tease him, laughing at the way he pulls back to give you a look - his eyes are as wide as saucers at your words. He’s completely crazy for you and it feels so good to know that it’s mutual - you’re not the only one who wants this, you’re not the only one that can’t see anything else but the one who is in front of you.  

“Are you clean?” he checks immediately. 

“Clean and on the pill,” you inform him with a cheeky grin. “What about you?” 

“I’m clean and have a thing for creampies, so I’m in heaven right now,” you both laugh as he struggles to take off your pajama bottoms - you struggle with removing what’s left of your clothes simply because you’re in a rush - in an insane rush to finally feel one another fully, completely, in every way possible. 

Not a moment too soon, he slides inside you, both of you groaning loudly in relief. He doesn’t waste time, nor does he savor the moment - he starts thrusting into you, strong. You are a mix of limbs, moans and grunts, incoherent even in the way you kiss, with your mouths simply brushing together, your tongues lazily tracing one another as the pace of his thrusts speeds up. Other than the sound of his moans and your headboard hitting the wall, you can’t focus on anything - and when he starts rubbing at your clit in time with his deep thrusts, you are a goner. 

He stretches you out so good and his fingers are magical - you have no choice but to repeatedly ask for more, cursing and moaning at the mix of sensations you are under. Your fingers move from the grip they had on his hair down to his naked back, where you dig them into his skin, hard, in response to a particularly harsh thrust that he had given you, his cock hitting the depths you didn’t even know existed. His fingers circle your clit faster, only pausing to pinch at it, and that’s when you kiss your sanity goodbye. Squeezing your walls around him, it’s your orgasm that rushes it to his own, hot spurts of cum filling you up as he shakes above you, moaning your name over and over again like his own personal prayer. 

You melt away into the softness of your bedding, still clutching to him for dear life, your brain running a thousand miles an hour, matching the speed of your heartbeat. His heartbeat matches yours too, as he is glued against you, his deep breaths tickling your ear before he starts leaving kisses along your neck. 

It’s Yoongi who moves first, and it’s to prove that he does have a thing for creampies - he moves down the bed and sits between your spread legs to shamelessly ogle at the way his cum drips out of you, reaching with his finger to rub the drops against your clit - overstimulated, you arch your back and moan in pleasure. Without an ounce of hesitation, Yoongi lies down with his face between your legs and proceeds to eat you out like no one had ever had done before. You are thrashing in a matter of minutes, pulling hard at his hair and coming on his face as he licks it all up, both his release and yours. 

“This was so fucking good, I can’t even think straight,” you admit in a sigh once he finally lets you go and lies down beside you. He doesn’t pull you in for a hug and while that would normally be a warning sign to you, you’re not worried now - not when he turns to you and looks at you like you are the only thing that matters. No one had ever looked at you like this. No one. And you’ve had plenty warm  your bed and treat you to multiple orgasms. 

“We fucked. Now it’s time to talk,” he reminds you of your earlier words, to which you laugh. 

“You really want to take me to that dinner, don’t you?” you ask, a little bit uncomfortable with the way he is pushing towards the conversation. You know it’s a conversation that you need to have and that you need to have it soon, but you wanted to enjoy the post sex lazy moment a little bit longer. Not with Yoongi, though. He wants his answer. 

“I really do,” he admits immediately, nuzzling his face into your pillow. “I want to date you. Fuck you every night, if you let me. Multiple times a night, if possible. Listen to hours upon hours of you complaining about every bridezilla you’ll ever have to deal with. I want to talk to you, learn more about you, share playlists with you, and cook for you. I just… really want to try being with you, Y/N. I want to finally do what I’ve wanted to do since I watched you drive away in the mall parking lot. To have a chance and do something with this.” 

His words warm your heart, you’d be a fool to deny it. And while you want every single thing listed, you’re well aware that the level of emotions that the both of you have reached does not really match the length of your… relationship. Technically, you’ve had one unofficial date and fucked once. That’s hardly a good foundation for knowing that you are in love with him. And that is the phrase - in love, not love. You can’t love him, not yet - you don’t know enough about him, and despite the unusual trajectory of your relationship, you would need more time to know it’s the real deal. But you are in love. You are and you’d be a fool to deny it. 

That doesn’t guarantee you a happily ever after, nor would it ever, but it does tell you that having him in the bed next to you is right. 

“None of that guarantees anything,” you remind him. “I want to try too, but we’re going to have to be realistic. Let’s take it slow. Just… start getting to know each other. Dates and… talking, lazy movie nights that end with mindblowing sex… As long as we don’t rush it and follow our own pace, a pace we both agree with, I really want to try, too.” 

“I am perfectly fine with that,” he smiles at you - it’s possibly the most genuine smile you’ve ever seen on him, the one that is hard to control and impossible to hide, no matter how hard one tries - the one that makes your face hurt because you are so genuinely happy, you couldn’t smile any wider even if you tried. “I have almost rushed into something I wasn’t ready for at all and it nearly cost me a chance to be with you,” he shakes his head, possibly at his own stupidity. You don’t blame him, though. You did before but you understand now and you doubt you’ll ever blame him for it again. “I don’t want to make a mistake again, especially not with you. I already made one too many and I don’t want to do it again.” 

“Yoongi?” you smile at him, no longer able to ignore the warmth that fills your heart. 

“What?” 

“I’m in love with you, too,” you are confident as you say it back. In love is safe. Love is… something that might come up along the line, if you’re lucky. But in love you are and he deserves to know that he’s not alone in that department.  “Just so you know… FYI.” 

He says nothing but he doesn’t really have to - the smile on his face says all that you need to hear and so does the way he grabs you by the waist and gently tugs you towards him, until you are lying on top of him and smiling down at him, feeling his cock harden against the skin of your thigh - the night is long from over. 

He knows it too, as he starts kissing you again, his hands caressing your cheeks as he does so. And this time too, he kisses you like it’s the only thing he ever wants to do. 

“This cake is amazing,” Sojung comments with her mouth full of the fluffy goodness - she even tried the carrot cake one and even that one was amazing. “You did a great job.” 

“Well, even a shitty wedding needs a good cake,” Seokjin shrugs casually. 

“Hey!” Sojung snaps with her mouth still full, pausing to swallow her bite. “Don’t talk like that about my wedding that never happened! Everyone had fun and ate well - they even had an amazing cake. It’s the best wedding I’ve ever attended,” she jokes, smiling brightly. 

“Eh, it’s in my top five,” Seokjin laughs with her. “And the cake is pretty darn amazing, if I do say so myself. But you know how the saying goes - those who can’t wed, bake.” 

“Well, I can’t wed and I can’t bake,” Sojung laughs. “Basically, I’m screwed?” 

“Basically, yeah,” Seokjin smiles brightly at the way she laughs at her own joke. “You know, I do teach baking occasionally. In the off-wedding season. If you want to, I can… tutor you.” 

There is a brief pause, as both of them consider the possibilities his offer is bringing - in a way, both of them know that the offer isn’t necessarily limited to baking. Seokjin doesn’t have to confirm it - Sojung can see it in the way he smiles at her. And she smiles back. 

“You know, I think I’d like that,” she announces. “When does the workshop start?”

taglist:   @moonchild1  sunshinerainbowsbts  iwishselena  sumzysworld  @shrimpmsg​

[yourmcu]

102

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x reader

Summary:

Songfic based on ‘102′ by the 1975. Moments when Natasha’s really in love with you.

A/n: listen to that song here, it’s good

Word count: 2,442

Warnings: fluff. pining. angst. angst. one sided relationship. r’s an idiot

Well, we’re here We’re at the common again

To put it simply, Natasha’s in love with you. It’s been a while now and she’s positive about her feelings. She’s not even in denial of it.

Natasha loves everything about you especially those little things and how you can make her day a thousand times better just by being around. Only realizing it a few years after you became a full time Avenger, you’re still unaware even though you’ve got this wonderful friendship with her.

Friendship, she sighs. She thought she could do anything, unfortunately admitting her stupid feelings isn’t one of them. She’d be risking the friendship and bond you two have, or, you could admit that you felt the same and everyone’ll be happy.

However, the thing is, you don’t.

“I like the way that your face looks when I’m arguing with you”.

She finds you adorable even if it's just the dumbest thing ever.

"Nat!" You whine, flailing your hands at your sides like a child. "I called shotgun!"

"I got here first, didn't I?"

"Children, better hurry it up or we'll miss the premiere." Tony gets in the driver's seat.

Natasha sticks her tongue out and crosses her legs to get comfortable, teasing you. The way your eyebrows furrow and your lips turn into a pout, sometimes you'd flail your arms or cross them is so adorable to her.

"Nat," you drag out, crawling in to sit on her lap and attempt to push her out. You don't think of it much because you're frustrated. "Come on, Nat!"

"There's room for both of us here, this is fine." She smirks, wrapping her arms around your waist making you jolt. You're ticklish like that.

Natasha teasing you is the norm for the team so they barely react, so normal that Tony just goes ahead and drives while you're still on the redhead's lap.

"Stop! We're gonna get pulled over!"

"Eh, they owe us an unpayable debt, remember?"

Even if the matter's more serious, she couldn't help but feel soft for you. Every time.

Inside you were freaking out. It was when the Avengers were handed the Sokovia Accords. They were all your friends and to see them split in two sides was - crazy. You remained undecided, but you knew if you didn't sign you'd probably be behind bars.

Both sides made valid points. After Steve abruptly left you were with Natasha most of the time. She tried her best to persuade you that signing was the best option for the team.

"You know I'm not one with politics, I just don't trust them, Nat," you sigh, gently taking her hand to fiddle with. "But - but then again, we've done enough collateral damage through the years."

Natasha nods. "you know I'm with you no matter what happens, right?"

You nod as well and offer a thankful smile. She truly is your bestest friend.

"Just because it's the path of least resistance doesn't mean it's the wrong path," she continues. "Staying together is more important than how we stay together."

Her hand now intertwines with yours. But she gently removes hers, that's way too... weird. You can't just do that, Romanoff.

She mentally sighs in relief since it doesn’t look like you noticed. You remain silent, deep in thought, but you snap out of it when she gets up.

"I'm making a quick stop to London then I'm off to Vienna for the signing of the Accords. You're welcome to join me."

And so when, when we all grow old I hope this song will remind you that I’m not half as bad As what you’ve been told

Here we are, sort of like your origin story on how you met the Avengers.

Steve introduced you to the team when you've settled, healed, and able to control your pyrokinesis. You were thankful for them saving you from the HYDRA base because unlike the others, the experiments they ran on you were forced.

As Natasha first laid her eyes on you, that cliché moment in movies where in the character's surroundings seem to slow down and the only thing you're focused on is that one particular person-

She didn't believe in that shit. She would scoff and roll her eyes whenever she saw a scene like that.

But it happened to her. She hated it and would've accused you for taking her breath away.

"Yeah. Natasha Romanoff." She curtly extends a hand for you to shake and you smile at her, taking it.

And for a while she ignores you while simultaneously looking you up behind your back.

Why would someone like you, a genuine and beautiful ray of sunshine, want anything to do with someone like Natasha?

She's terrified of the thought of what your reaction would be if you realize what she'd done in the past. Ah, her past, something she isn’t proud of.

You finally confront her one day, hating how you seem to get a long with everyone just fine except her.

Your real reaction being, "we've all done something really bad that we regret. I mean, look at me, I was treated like a weapon for a quarter of my life and I can produce fire anytime, which I didn't ask for - sorry, I guess what I'm saying is, I don't think you're a bad person Natasha. You're here, aren't you? Saving people's lives? You're a better version of yourself, you're changing and if you ask me that's what really matters. Now, can we get some coffee?"

Natasha's been in love with you ever since.

And when I knock at a hundred and two, And I see your pajamas I can’t stop smiling at you

Natasha heard soft knocks outside her door one night. To be honest she'd be most likely to ignore the harsh and hard knocks, so she got up and made her way to open the door.

There you stood in your pajamas. You hate the matching ones, just like the pair you had on that night. But you also hate mismatching them. Natasha wouldn't admit to think that you look nice in them though. "Hi," you manage to say, avoiding looking her directly in the eyes since you already doubt she'd let you stay just this once. "I... uh, m'sorry for waking you up, Nat-"

While you find the words to say Natasha just observes - that's creepy - admires - she looks, she looks. You're clearly dying inside, probably regretting you knocked, the way you prefer looking at anything but her as you try and get words out, and how you fiddled with the hem of your shirt.

"God, you know what? Never mind, I... I'm sorry for waking you up."

Before you could walk away Natasha opens her door wider, her face displaying full concern. "Hey, what happened?"

"It's nothing serious, I was just-"

"As your friend, I'm here for you no matter what," she wonders what'd it be like if it’s more than that. "Plus, I won't be able to go back to sleep either if you end up not telling me." She offers you a smile.

You sigh, looking her in the eye for the first time that night. "Had a nightmare. It was one of those kinds where I had no idea if I was gonna wake up from it - it was just - I feel like if I went back to sleep I'd see it again, you know?" You exhale, frowning.

She's glad you chose to show your vulnerable side to her, it just goes to show that you trust her that much, feeling like you could tell her anything.

You bite your lip, looking away. "I'm being such a baby about it, sorry-"

"Y/N," she states. "Stop apologizing and come here,"

Natasha motions you inside her room and almost immediately you latch yourself onto her, hugging her as you near the bed. It must've been bad, you seem shaken up about it.

You sigh in relief when Natasha pulls the covers over both of you, enveloping you into warmness.

Natasha lies beside you with her elbow propped up to look at you. "Do you... want to talk about it? Or I can put on a movie if you'd like."

You shake your head slightly, scooting near her. "I'm all good now."

Natasha's heart skips a beat, knowing that she's the one making you feel at ease, calm. She smiles and nods, turning to turn off the lamp.

Friends can cuddle, right? She wonders. She wants to wrap an arm around you more than anything but she feels that would be some sort of violation. So she hopes that the closeness of your bodies would be enough, for now. Hopefully.

I said “well I, I like the cut of your jib,”, “I like the way that your face looks when you're yapping on about him,”

Even though you were being affectionate with Natasha sometimes, you never returned her feelings.

Only a total asshole would hang around with someone often and do something that would cross that barrier, giving signs and subtle hints that you liked her, at least that’s what it looked like to Natasha but it ended up actually didn’t. Were you really the one to blame though? You have no idea Natasha likes you more than a friend.

Which lead you to making a very poor choice of opening up about someone you liked, to the one who liked you.

Natasha’s heart was racing when you mentioned you liked someone and planned to take them on a date, but you decided to go to her for advice first. 

It was a fifty-fifty chance for her, really.

“I mean, she is very mysterious,” you thought while running your thumb across your bottom lip. “Wanda.”

From there, Natasha just tried to ignore the sudden ache in her chest, pulling herself together in your presence. Of course it wasn’t her, you would never like someone like her. Plus, it was expected. You and Wanda shared a few more things in common than Natasha.

Noticing that the redhead hasn’t spoken a word, you continue. “I’d like to get to know her better but... you’ve known her longer than me, right, Nat? I want her to be comfortable if I ever get to go out with her.”

She tried to swallow the lump on her throat subtly, avoiding your eyes. She wanted nothing more than to walk away, out of anybody’s sight so no one could see her mercilessly destroy anything in her sight.

“You don’t need to,” she finally replies. “You could watch her favorite sitcoms together and you’ll win her over.”

“Sitcoms?”

“She likes them.”

You pout, pondering about the idea further while Natasha sighs to herself.

And after you excuse yourself to talk to the young witch, Natasha wastes no time to head to her floor to have some well deserved alone time to herself and mope, telling herself that she doesn’t and never will deserve someone like you.

But on this shirt I found your smell I just sat there for ages Contemplating what to do with myself

You and Natasha are both lucky to have each other on the team. The both of you are a match made in heaven on the battlefield, you have each other's backs.

"So... that went well," you state, referring to the mission, putting your hands on your hips as Natasha packs her stuff to get ready to leave for the next day. You bite the inside of your cheek, cursing yourself for packing lightly. "Can I borrow a shirt?"

Natasha just finished showering, now in the process of doing her usual routines before going to bed. She grabs a shirt from her closet and pulls it on.

She sighs exhaustedly, running her fingers through her hair. The fact that the shirt she put on was the same one you borrowed from her that day doesn’t click immediately.

But when it does,

"Fuck."

Natasha told herself to slowly move on because a more-than-friends relationship with you is not happening.

Well, not that she's ever told you directly that she's in love with you, but she can take a hint. You clearly aren’t interested.

And now she sits there alone with a shirt that fucking smells like you, her favorite person. At that moment she wants to just march over to your room and confess.

Trying to move on isn’t a good look on her, key word: trying to.

You’re something else. No one's made her feel this way before.

I called you up at a hundred and two, We just sat there for ages Talking about that boy who was getting on to you

You just might be the most oblivious idiot ever.

Because after your first, second date with Wanda you still failed to notice the changes in Natasha’s mood. You should know, you considered her your best friend, but being with Wanda became your priority ever since you pulled off impressing her on the first date.

Instead of letting you be, Natasha had to call you. At the time you were on your break, taking time off out of the compound. She just wanted some sort of closure at least, wasn’t even sure if that’s what to call it considering you both would still be friends, but she needed it.

“Hey, I won’t take up too much of your time,” she starts, but you immediately bombard her with what happened with your day with Wanda.

Natasha bites her lip as you do, every little thing you mentioned that she could only imagine doing with you sends her heart throbbing. But at the same time she’s happy for you. She simply loved seeing you happy. 

“I couldn’t have managed to do any of it let alone talk to Wanda without your help. Thanks, Nat,” she smiles sadly at your words, completely scrapping the thought of confessing her feelings to you. Maybe it didn’t matter anymore. “We should hang out when I get back. I miss you.”

She shakes her head. “I can’t, I... I’m being sent off for a mission soon,” she blinks back the tears and she could’ve sworn the ache she felt just got worse. Before she could utter another word, you sigh.

“Oh. I’ll see you when you get back, then?”

“I guess.”

When the call ends she goes to her messages to type out the things she’s been dying to say. She’ll be gone when you get back, she won’t have to face you once you’ve read it. After everything I still love you. It’s been too long, you deserve to know.

[goldenlaquer]

heyyyy I'm back from the dead😂 can you write joui4 reacting to their crush being injured during the war?

Welcome back!

Gintama Headcanons: 

Katsura Kotarou: 

His plan failed. 

It was supposed to be a simple one: a small, isolated platoon of fifty Amanto foot soldiers versus his company of two hundred strong. An easy win. In the grand scheme of things, the battle was not worth much anyway. But Katsura wanted to give his weary soldiers a victory, no matter how small, something to raise their depleted morale. He was confident that if anyone could conduct such an elementary operation, it would be him-- The Rampaging Noble, one of the Four Heavenly Kings, master tactician and expert swordsman. 

This is the classic tale of hubris, told over and over. 

The minute victory was assumed, they were instantly surrounded by enemy ships. There was only a single second of startling silence-- his eyes widened and he was running, futilely roaring out a retreat-- before the ships open-fired a blaze of bombs and bullets. 

They ran towards the nearby forest, hoping the thicket would cover them. Around him, the men he had laughed and ate with dropped like flies. Two hundred. One Hundred. Fifty. 

You were beside him, close to his heel all this time. You had also trusted his plan whole-heartedly. And it’s until he takes cover behind an oak tree, that he stops and realizes that you aren’t next to him any longer. 

I don’t have enough words to describe the pure panic that crashes down Katsura’s spine, settling horribly at his feet as he stumbles back in the direction he was fleeing from. His hair is loose from its tie, whipping his face as he runs, jelly legs leaping over branches and bodies. His plan. His men. His failure. And now you. 

After agonizing moments of nothing but death, he spots you lying on the ground, injured but alive, a shout of relief in the form of your name erupting from his mouth. He’s looping his arms firmly underneath your arms, whispering apologies into your sweaty hair as you groan and whimper from the sharp pangs of pain in your legs, dragging you along the dirt, away from the line of fire. 

Just a few more feet, he pleads. I’m sorry. Please endure the pain a little while longer. He drags you past the fallen. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. 

Sakamoto Tatsuma: 

Even if you do not see him through the smoke and blood, you can hear him. 

He is loud. So absolutely fucking loud that it takes no effort to sort through the sounds of steel against steel, the countless grunts of pain mixed in with shouts of adrenaline and fear, and the other noises of battle, to hear the deafening shrills coming from him. 

And sometimes, right in the middle of it all, Sakamoto has the audacity to boom out to you with his carrying voice stupid, stupid jokes that has no place on the battlefield. You find yourself responding though, shouting (practically screaming) back on top of your lungs to tell him to shut the fuck up and focus on the fight, and he’s responding with a sorry, sorry! but do you want to hear another one? and you’re telling him no, but he tells you it anyway because he’s a moron. 

It’s a back and forth, a full-on conversation of dumbness, as you both fight for your lives. It’s very odd. And very inappropriate. And you should probably stop before one of you gets really distracted, but

you can’t. 

Because if you can’t see him, how do you know if he’s still fighting? How do you know that, if he isn’t spouting out something stupid or managing to breathe out that distinctive chortle, he’s alive and breathing? 

And on the opposite side, Sakamoto feels the same. He likes the sound of your voice, even if it’s barely drowned out by the wind and straining to reach his ears. He likes it so much that he doesn’t want it to ever stop. So he keeps on yapping as he blocks and attacks the enemy, keeps on yapping as there are stinging gashes on his face and body, keeps on yapping as his muscles scream and beg him to shut the fuck up. He won’t stop. He definitely won’t stop. 

Then there is a lull. A quiet within the chaos. He can’t see you, so he shouts out a joke, hoping, dreading. No response. Another joke. No response. Your name. Your name again. There is no response. 

Of course you hear him. He’s loud as hell. As impossible as it is, he’s growing louder and louder too. But there’s something warm and sticky running down your temple and the cold ground against your cheek feels too comfortable and you’re suddenly too tired to open your mouth. Your eyes flutter, glowing bleary, and you wonder if it’s okay to take a little nap...

Something shakes your eardrums so hard that you can’t help to startle, staring up at Sakamoto who looks so fucking terrified, his very blue eyes wide and desperate. He’s got you safely tucked in his arms, your head gingerly supported as he pushes his long legs away from the front lines to the medics.

Even in your severe state, he babbles on and on like he always does, keeping you alive with trembling jokes and stuttered gasps of laughter. 

Sakata Gintoki: 

During battle, he is no longer the dude with unsanitary booger disposal habits, but the white demon with something to protect. The Shiroyasha, you think in awe, gripping the hilt of your sword hard before bringing it up to fend off an Amanto. You can’t afford to keep your gaze on him. 

There really are too many enemies. As soon as you strike one down, three more take their fallen comrade’s place. Your muscles ache and your breath is starting to come in as wheezes as you’re driven back by the flurry of attacks. 

Your back hits his. A brief moment of support. Getting tired? He sounds so infuriatingly goading. You reposition your legs, forcing your breaths to match with his, before charging forward. As if! 

Despite your words, you’re getting dizzier, the smell and heat of battle clouding your sense as your disobedient arms start to shake, no matter how much you urge them to keep on going. The adrenaline is wearing off fast and Gintoki somehow notices it all the way from where he is, barking out your name with a Oi! What are you doing? There’s no time-out! Focus! You’re trying. You’re really trying. You take a step forward but your foot unluckily slips on the soaked ground, and that’s when the pain hits, crimson blooming along the laceration that bisects your chest, the enemy taking advantage of your moment of weakness. Your cracked lips part to cry out, and Gintoki glances back at the sound just in time to see your sword fall and your knees crumple underneath you. 

It’s not like the movies or the books. Time doesn’t stop. It keeps on going. It doesn’t care that you’re on the ground, passed out and bleeding heavily, and that there’s an Amanto in front of you, eyes gleeful as it raises its axe high to deliver the final blow. 

Time is moving. He’s too far. He won’t make it. He won’t make it. What the hell is he doing? Wasn’t he here to protect what he held dear? Move. Move. Time is moving and it won’t wait for him. If he can’t make it, then his sword will. His hand hurls his weapon, pitching it forth with all his might. It soars and hits the mark, the Amanto falls down, but his job of keeping you alive, protecting you, isn’t over. You’re still unconscious and vulnerable, and there are still other Amanto eager to finish the job.

Gintoki punches and kicks his way through to get to you, his heart palpitating so harshly in his chest that it hurts far more than his cuts and his bruises and anything before in his goddamn life. 

Takasugi Shinsuke:

“Get up,” Takasugi hisses, his face pulled into a pinched snarl and his hand bunching the front of your collar. He tugs hard. A red droplet drips down from his cut cheek onto yours. “Get up.” He says again. 

Your body can’t comply with his authority. Your shoulder is badly throbbing, fractured maybe. Your hip is definitely dislocated. All your organs and limbs feel wringed out, like an old wet towel. Your legs-- just thinking about them sends every nerve in your body screaming. Everything hurts. When you try to tell Takasugi this, all that comes out is a dry sob. 

His eyes widen a fraction before narrowing. He’s never heard you like this. So broken, miserable, and hurting. Your injuries were far worse than he thought. Fuck. He lets go of your collar in favor of pulling your limp arm over his shoulder, ignoring your heart-wrenching groans of pain. His men are holding back the enemy, but just barely. His left arm is injured. He needs you to get up. It doesn’t matter if it’s painful. It doesn’t matter if you’re sobbing for him to let go, please let go, leave me behind. He’s not going to leave you behind. 

He’s never said he was a kind man. He’s going to bully you, mock you, use every dirty trick up his sleeve to get you up, to get you to keep on living. Pain is temporary, but you dying is 

Takasugi shifts you closer, carrying most of your weight as he slowly moves the both of you. Every strained gasp you make digs deep into him, but he keeps on going. 

If you died, it might just rip this unkind man’s heart into pieces. 

Takasugi’s part is the shortest because he is the shortest. But damn, Reader really be going through it huh. 

[twistedtummies2]

Mia Corazón (Commission)

Another commission I got via my FA page. This is from the same person who commissioned “Tick Tock” and “A Grim Dinner.” It features his OC based on Tick Tock the Crocodile, Tock Crockwork...BUT, more importantly, it also acts as an introduction to his newest OC, Caelyum De Macabre - a character based on Davy Jones (with hints of Tia Dalma) from “Pirates of the Caribbean.”  And it’s NOT A KINK STORY. HERESY, I KNOW. I had a LOT of fun with this one; my only major regret is that I couldn’t make it longer than it already is. XD Also, just for the sake of making sure people know, I did not make up the lyrics to the song featured here. They’re actually fan-made lyrics for Davy Jones’ theme from the movies, originally created by a YouTube artist called Fiajela. I highly recommend looking up the song - it’s been covered by her and Man on the Internet, and they even made a duet version with the two stitched together. Anyway...hopefully you all enjoy. :)

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Valentine’s Day had come to Night Raven College. As you and Grim walked through the halls of the dark castle, you couldn’t help but chuckle at the decorations: pink paper hearts and streamers of white and crimson were everywhere, making it feel almost as if Heartslabyul had somehow managed to take over the entire palatial academy. Grim frowned up at you, trotting at your side, trident tail swishing as he went. “Nya? What’s so funny, Minion?” he demanded to know. “Nothing, nothing,” you responded with a shake of your head. “It’s just…everything looks so different.” Grim sniffed snootily, crinkling his nose at a poster of two young lovers embracing. “I don’t like it,” he remarked. “It’s all…mushy. It just doesn’t feel right for a School of Villains to be so…nya, what’s a good word…?” “Sentimental? Sappy? Saccharine?” “Gross,” was the word Grim chose, sticking out his tongue and shuddering like a small boy afraid of getting the dreaded cooties. You snorted with laughter. “Well, bring it up to the Headmaster,” you smirked, stuffing your hands in your pockets as you went. “I’d rather not,” Grim grumped. “Besides, we all know Crowley would just ramble on about it, or say he’ll get things done and never do…how come he’s Headmaster, anyway? He doesn’t do anything!” “Your guess is as good as mine,” you shrugged. “All I know is the only home I have is thanks to him, as is the only job. I’d like to keep both, thank you.” Grim shrugged back with an accepting sort of rumble as the two of you ascended the spiral staircase that led up to the Headmaster’s Office. Crowley had sent a call that morning; classes were dismissed for the day, so the university was a little quieter than usual: many of the students were off visiting family or loved ones, and those that were hanging around the campus still were largely engaged in…ahem…PRIVATE affairs. You, of course, could not leave; at least for now, Night Raven was your home, and as you were currently not in a relationship, Valentine’s Day wasn’t much different than any other day. Not that you minded much; it was still nice, in your mind, to see others happy and relaxed, and a holiday was a holiday, at any rate…though it seemed even St. Valentine’s holiday would not be saving you from helping clean up whatever mess Crowley needed dealt with this time. As you passed an image of two small, fluffy kittens holding a heart, a random thought came to your head: “Grim?” “Nya?” “Have you ever wanted to be in love?” “Not really,” the cat-like monster said. “Love is all…icky.” You frowned. “Icky?” you repeated. “All the kissing and hugging and…bleh!” Grim shuddered again, then went on: “Besides, it seems awfully difficult; makes you humans and even beast-men all crazy. I’ve got too much to deal with as it is, thank you very much! Nope. The World’s Greatest Mage won’t ever let love make him all soppy.” Grim stuck out his fluffy chest proudly at this, sticking his nose in the air. You smirked, and paused, reaching down to scratch behind his ears. He froze up…then purred and nuzzled into your touch. “Purrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr…o-okay…maybe I love some things,” he admitted.

“Good kitty,” you teased, and snickered as Grim growled at you and half-heartedly swiped at your hand with a paw. You retracted it and the two of you kept moving. “Come on. The sooner we deal with Crowley, the faster we can get to our own stuff.” Grim nodded, as the pair of you drew nearer to Crowley’s office. You knocked on the door and waited for the sing-song call of “Come in!” before entering. Inside the office, things looked the same as ever, floating portraits of the Great Seven and all…aside from a vase of roses, plus a couple of heart-shaped ornaments on the desk, as well as the fact the purple-and-green curtains had been exchanged for solid red velvet drapes. Dire Crowley himself was seated behind his desk, sorting through paperwork, dressed in his usual attire. His feathery cloak rustled as he lifted his top-hatted head, and smiled at both yourself and Grim as you shut the door to the office behind you, his yellow eyes sparkling behind his Plague-Doctor-esque Venetian mask. “Ahhh! Prefect of Ramshackle Dorm! And the Little Monster!” he greeted warmly, rising and waving his hands, bidding you closer as he stepped around his desk. “Come, come, you’re right on time!” “On time for what, dare we ask?” Grim meowed. “Aren’t you celebrating Valentine’s Day, too, Headmaster?” you asked, politely. “Later,” Crowley smirked, winking and tapping the side of his mask’s long nose. “I’ll be entertaining a cute little fairy sorceress from the Land of Oz later tonight.” He let out a dreamy sigh, placing a hand to his heart. “Ahhh, Miss Upland…one day, you will be mine…” You and Grim gave each other a look, shrugged, then turned back to Crowley. “What’s the problem, then?” you asked, knowing better than to think this was a social call. By now, Crowley had firmly established yourself and Grim as the chief problem solvers of the Academy, so it stood to reason he had a mission for your both. “Oh! Yes, well,” Crowley muttered, and cleared his throat, adjusting and straightening his stance before going on in a business-like way: “As I’m sure you’ll both know, tonight there’s a special performance, directed by our own Vil Schoenheit, for the holiday.” “Nya? Isn’t it that play about the Sea Witch?” Grim checked, tilting his head. “Correct,” nodded the Headmaster. “And the Little Mermaid she assisted. We have a special guest coming to see the show tonight…” He reached into the folds of his cloak and pulled out a small photograph, handing it over to you. You knelt down to get closer to Grim’s level, and showed him the photo as you both looked it over: the picture was a portrait of a dark-skinned mermaid, with hair black as ebony and scales of red and gold. Her eyes were brown and soft and warm as milk chocolate, and a silver locket in the shape of a heart was clasped about her throat. “Oooh…she’s pretty!” Grim smiled. “Very,” you agreed with a smile of your own. “She,” the Headmaster spoke up, “Is Young Lady Mia Corazón. Her family is one of the richest in the Coral Sea.” “Which is why you invited her,” you guessed, trying not to sound as bored as you were. To your surprise, Crowley answered, “I didn’t invite her! She wanted to see the show on her own…but there is one difficulty: her family insists that she be accompanied by at least two bodyguards at all times. Much like the Al-Asims, they’ve had…ISSUES in the past, and if their daughter is going to be on land for a spell, her parents want to make sure she’s adequately protected.” “That’s fair enough,” you supposed. “Let me guess,” sighed Grim, crossing his arms, “You want us to be the bodyguards then?” “Well, I suppose I COULD hire professionals,” Crowley murmured, scratching his chin in thought. “But they can cost a lot…I’d probably end up having to cut your pay just to-” “Forget it,” you grumbled, while Grim growled and slapped a paw to his forehead. “We’ll do it. But something is worrying me, if you don’t mind my bringing it up.” “What’s that?” “Are you sure WE’RE the right ones for this job?” you pressed, then before Crowley could speak up, you went on quickly: “We’ll do it, like I said, but…are you certain we should?” “How do you mean?” the Headmaster questioned, tilting his head. “Well, we’re not from the Coral Sea,” you explained. “Wouldn’t someone from that area be a better choice? Perhaps Azul could loan out the Leech Twins for a day!” Both Grim and Crowley looked at you as if you had grown a second skull. “…Right,” you sighed, quickly catching on. “Azul. ‘Loan’ us the Leech Twins. And us NOT expect things to go HORRIBLY wrong, one way or another. Yeah, that was a dumb suggestion, sorry.” Crowley chuckled and shook his head. “I have every confidence in you,” he said, with a wide smile. “You’ve solved so many problems in the past! And it’s only for tonight! What could possibly go wrong?” “Well, great, now something will DEFINITELY become a problem,” Grim grumbled. “Look, it’s not that I’m ungrateful,” you pressed on, “Or even that I’ve got a whole lot else to do, just…I’m worried because I don’t have magic. And Grim is…well…Grim.” “Hey!” Grim yapped indignantly. “I could roast any bad guy’s butt if they tried to get to Miss Coronation!” “Corazón,” corrected the Headmaster. “Whatever,” shrugged Grim. Crowley rolled his eyes, then turned his head upward. “You do raise a good point though, Prefect,” he conceded. “I didn’t think of that…at the very least, you two will need some help.” You were just about to agree…when suddenly, you heard Grim shiver. Both you and Crowley looked down as the cat-like demon quivered and hugged himself, the fire in his ears flickering. “Are you okay?” you asked, worriedly. “Y-Yeah,” Grim answered with a slight chattering of his teeth. “But…does anybody else feel like it suddenly got colder in here?” Now that Grim mentioned it, you DID suddenly feel a light chill crawl up and down your back…and it wasn’t too long afterward that the source of the cold made its presence known. With an authoritative BANG, the Headmaster’s office door burst open, causing both yourselves and Crowley to yelp and jump in alarm. You turned around fast, and gulped nervously as you perceived the imposing figure of Chief Jehan – the school’s head of security, garbed as ever in his military style cap and long, black trenchcoat. “Headmaster,” the darkly dressed security chief intoned, bowing his head respectfully to Dire Crowley, “Forgive this intrusion.” “Oh, it’s alright, Claude,” Crowley sighed out, then frowned. “Whatever is the matter?” “I apprehended this rule-breaking scallywag in the school cafeteria,” Jehan stated, indicating a second figure. “Ow! OW! H-Hey, let go of me, you old…! I’ll bite your legs off, you hear me?!” You and Grim were surprised to see the short, thick-hipped, green haired figure struggling in the icy grip of Claude Jehan, trying to pull away as his ear was all but being yanked from the side of his cranium. “Tock?” the two of you chorused. Tock Crockwork just snarled as Jehan glared at him. He tried to return the glower, but it came off more akin to a wounded animal trying to look tough than…well…looking tough. Crowley’s frown deepened, and he stepped past you and Grim – uttering a quiet, “One moment please” – before approaching the chief and the unruly Octavinelle student. “What is the meaning of this?” the Headmaster boomed. The Security Chief pushed Tock forward, releasing his ear. Tock stumbled a bit and caught himself, massaing his sore lobe. “This young ruffian,” Jehan explained, “Started a brawl with Mr. Bucchi over the last Deluxe Menchi Katsu Sandwich. As the latter student was merely defending himself, I felt his punishment should be more lenient; both have been banned from the cafeteria for the rest of the week…but as the one who started the whole affair…” He trailed off as Tock growled rather pathetically, looking down at the floor sullenly. Crowley scowled and hummed thoughtfully, clearly trying to determine a fitting punishment. Your eyes, as well as Grim’s, widened, and you looked to each other. “Grim,” you whispered, “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” “I think so, Minion, but a show about a math teacher who’s also a criminal mastermind? Who’d want to watch that?” You facepalmed. “What are you two whispering about?” Jehan asked, suspiciously, as Tock and Crowley both looked to you as well. “I think I know a way to kill two birds with one stone, so to speak,” you suggested. “You mean, a way to deal with Mr. Crockwork while also dealing with your dilemna?” Crowley guessed. “Exactly.” “Dilemna? What dilemna?” Tock asked. You grinned.

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“Thanks for sticking up for me, snack meat,” Tock groused, petulantly pouting as he walked by your side. “You’re the one who decided to pick a fight with the hyena,” you shrugged. “Honestly, I think I did you a favor.” “Nya…my Minion has a point,” Grim nodded. “Do you really think things would have been better if Crowley had decided to punish you himself?” “Or worse,” you put in, grimly, “Leave you to Chief Jehan?” All three of you shuddered, and Grim even crossed himself at the mention of the security chief. “Fine, I guess that’s fair,” Tock grumbled. “But I don’t like having to protect a fish filet from harm. I eat fish!” “Well, you won’t be eating Mia Corazón,” you sniffed. “Alright…guess I’ll just have to eat YOU instead,” smirked Tock, and licked his sharp teeth. Grim mewed and hid behind your leg. You blushed. “…We’ll worry about that later,” you grumbled, making Crockwork snicker with a wicked smile. “For now, let’s focus on getting you some actual lunch.” “You ARE an actual lunch,” snorted Tock. “I am not on the menu!” you snapped, flushed with embarrassment as Tock gave you a knowing grin. “Well…not till your work is done,” he teased, winking deviously, then smirking down at Grim. “Maybe I’ll have the little hairball for an appetizer, too…” Grim hissed at being referred to as a “hairball,” but said nothing. “Do you always have to be so antagonistic?” you sighed. “It’s what keeps getting you into trouble, you know.” Tock just shrugged carelessly, hips swaying as he walked side by side with you. “So, where are we heading?” he asked. “Can’t go to the cafeteria, and the Mostro Lounge is way too expensive…” “The Mystery Shop,” you answered. “I’m sure Sam’s got something in stock for us all to snack on before we head to the beach to pick up our special guest.” “Nya! Between my fiery awesomeness, my Minion’s brains, and lizard-breath’s strength, we’ll be the best bodyguards ever!” declared Grim. “Call me ‘lizard breath’ again,” Tock warned, “And we’ll be back down to two people, fuzz-face.” “Fuzz-face?!” Grim snapped. “How’d you like to BURN off a few of those calories you’re so proud of, hah?!” “Girls, girls, you’re both pretty,” you droned. The pair glared at you, then each other…then growled in unison as they stopped. “Thank you,” you sighed with relief. “Now, let’s be on our best behavior: I don’t want Sam’s Friends to give us a hard time…” As you spoke, your little trio reached the entrance to Mr. S’s Mystery Shop, and the three of you walked inside. Aside from a simple banner reading “Happy Valentine’s Day!” over the door, the shop was completely as it usually was…at least on the outside. To be fair, once you all entered the building, the store within seemed its usual self, too; no heart-shaped décor here, only the usual assortment of voodoo accessories. The strange part came when you not only realized Sam was nowhere to be seen…but you all also noticed who was tending to the store. Or rather, what. “Crabs?” all three of you gasped in surprise. Sure enough, crawling all over the Mystery Shop was an assortment of strange white sand crabs. Their shells seemed to have been made from smooth, ivory-colored stone…and as if the presence of the pale decapods wasn’t bizarre enough, their activities certainly would have gotten some unusual reactions. A few of the crabs were straightening out and sorting through items on the shelves, making sure everything was in top-notch condition. One crab was holding a miniature broom, while the other held a dustpan, the pair of them sweeping the floor. Still another crab was changing a lightbulb, while two more – clicking their claws encouragingly – were supervising. A bunch of crabs carrying a spray bottle and a wash cloth scuttled past you all, near your feet. Yourself and Croc stepped back, but Grim – with typical feline curiosity – leaned down and actually sniffed at one of the crustaceans… “ME-YOWCH!” he yelped, and jumped back, mewling and covering his muzzle after one of the crabs pinched his nose with their pincer. The crab seemed to strut away importantly afterward. “Heh…guess the crab cake bit back, huh?” teased Tock. Grim just growled and massaged his stinging snout. “This is new,” you muttered. “Where’d all these little guys come from?” “Cruel and cold, like winds on the sea. Will you ever return to me? Hear my voice sing with the tide: My Love Will Never Die…” The melodious voice soon sang into your ears, and you and your companions looked towards the source. In a corner of the shop, a lone figure was quietly mopping, and singing the lonely, haunting sea shanty you had heard. The figure was a young and slender man, dressed in a tan-colored jacket with ruffle-ended sleeves, and a brown hip-skirt. His legs were covered by dark beige trousers, while plain brown boots were on his feet. A fishnet scarf was loosely slung about his shoulders, almost like a shawl, and an orange muscle shirt festooned his abdomen. His hair was a curious pink hue, and done up in dreadlocks. “Ahem!” you coughed, catching the young man’s attention. He froze and looked up to you, blinking his brown eyes. For a moment, you noticed there was a look of pain and something…hollow in his face, as if something inside of him was missing and he longed to get it back. An overwhelming feeling of loneliness and sorrow seemed to wash over you…but it disappeared in an instant when the youth smiled. “Oh! Ahoy there! Didn’t hear you come in,” he greeted, bowing his head respectfully as he put the mop in its bucket and then walked towards you and your group. “Can I help you?” “Well, you can start by telling us who you are, and what happened to Sam,” Grim frowned. The young man chuckled, flipping his fishnet scarf over one shoulder. “Sam is taking the day off for the holiday,” he explained, then slowly added, “I don’t…make merry on Valentine’s Day, so I volunteered to keep the shop open and do some cleaning.” “Well, that answers one question,” Tock snorted, crossing his arms over his chest and lookin the taller youth up and down. “Mind answering the other?” “Oh! Right, right,” the young fellow chuckled, and cleared his throat before giving a mock-salute and answering: “Name’s Caelyum. Caelyum De Macabre. I’m Sam’s new assistant.” “Pleased to meet you,” you smiled, and shook Caelyum’s hand, and tilted your head. “Say…can I call you Cael for short?” The young man’s smile flickered, and he paused before quietly beseeching, “I’d…rather you didn’t, thank you.” “No problem, I’m sorry,” you apologized quickly. “Not at all, not at all,” the young man chuckled, and straightened his stance, recovering quickly. “So! What can I do for you, me hearties? Supplies, clothes?” “Food,” growled Tock. “I’m STARVING.” Caelyum chuckled and jabbed a thumb to one part of the shop. “You’ll find everything you need in that direction.” Tock nodded, and sashayed in the direction De Macabre had indicated. Caelyum smiled back at you and Grim in the meantime. “You’re the Prefect of Ramshackle Dorm, right?” he guessed. “That’s right,” you nodded. “It’s nice to meet you, then,” Caelyum smiled. “Sam’s told me all about you: he says you’re his favorite customer.” “He says that about everyone,” Grim snorted. Caelyum chuckled and knelt down. He extended a hand carefully. Grim sniffed it carefully…then smiled and allowed the shopkeeper’s assistant to pet him softly. “You have a beautiful singing voice,” you couldn’t help but comment. Caelyum looked up in surprise…then blushed a bit. “Oh, uh…you heard a little of that, did you?” he chuckled with embarrassment. “Nya! It sounded really sad, but…it was also really nice,” Grim mewed. “Thanks,” Caelyum said as he stood back up to his full height. “What song was that?” you asked, curiously. “I’ve never heard it before. Is it from your homeland?” Caelyum’s smile fell, and he looked askance. “Not exactly,” he murmured, then informed you aloud, in a matter-of-fact way: “It’s a song from the Coral Sea. I come from the Jubilee Port, near the Swamplands: same place as Sam. A…friend taught the song to me.” Catching the hitch in his voice, you smiled sympathetically. “It sounds like you two were close.” “We were,” Caelyum said softly. “Very.” “Nya…what happened?” Grim asked. Caelyum paused…then shrugged. “They left,” was all he said. Sensing the sensitive subject, you decided to drop the matter; Grim caught on and did the same. “How long have you been working for Sam? I haven’t seen you around before.” “Not long,” shrugged Caelyum, seemingly grateful the subject had changed. “He and I have some similar interests, and when I joined Night Raven, I applied for work.” “Oh, so you’re a first year?” “Yep.” “What house? Octavinelle?” you guessed, wondering why Tock wouldn’t have recognized the youth if so. “Scarabia, actually and weirdly enough,” laughed Caelyum, as if the placement struck him as some sort of very funny joke…he paused then leaned in and whispered: “Um…is it just me, or is the dorm head of that house a little…you know…how would you say it…?” “Too pure and innocent for this cruel, unholy world?” “…Yeah, that.” “Yes. Yes, he very much is.” The two of you were interrupted by the sound of Tock snarling in the food aisles. You all turned to see him trying to pry a bag of chips out of the pincers of one of the crabs, who looked very insulted to be interrupted in his work. “Hey! Can somebody make this crab cake let go?!” he snapped. “Oh, sorry!” Caelyum called out, and then snapped his fingers. Suddenly, every single crab inside the building froze…and then their claws and extremities retracted into their shells, leaving only a series of what looked like smooth, white stones scattered around the shop. With a second snap of his fingers, the stone crabs disappeared; there was no puff of smoke or flash of light. One second they were there…the next, they were not. Grim whistled, impressed. “Nice trick,” he murmured. “Is that your Unique Magic?” you asked. “Yep,” Caelyum nodded. “They’re called Locker Crabs, and you’d be surprised the kinds of things I can do with them…” “Cool!” Grim commented. “Hey, Tock!” you called out, hearing the rustling of snack food bags. “Leave some stuff for the rest of us, and hurry up! We need to get to the beach quickly!” “I’m hurrying, snack meat, I’m hurrying!” Tock called back dismissively. “The beach?” Caelyum spoke up, looking interested. “Why are you three heading there? What’s so important?” “We’re on a mission!” Grim cheered, puffing out his chest once more. “Oh, really?” smirked Caelyum, looking amused, and scoffed as he moved behind the front desk. “What for? Some sort of Valentine’s Day meeting, or something?” You frowned, sensing a bitterness to two particular words. “You mentioned you don’t make merry on Valentine’s Day,” you said slowly, approaching the desk and leaning on it. “What do you…y’know…have against it?” “Hm?” Caelyum murmured, then shrugged as he leaned back against the shelves behind the front desk. “Oh, well, it’s…not the day itself. More what it represents.” “Nya? What do you mean?” Grim asked, tilting his head. A shadow seemed to fall over Caelyum’s face, and he looked askance. Something icy and stormy flickered across his features. “Love,” he said, as if the word were some repellent toxin. You and Grim shared a look, then looked back to Caelyum. “Love is a lie,” Caelyum went on, seemingly talking more to himself than to either of you. “It’s like a parasite that burrows into your chest…and even once the sickness it spreads is cured, something in there remains, keeping you from ever knowing real peace. It pulls you along a blind alley, and just when you feel safe, it stabs you in every place it hurts most, and then leaves you to either heal on your own or die. It weakens your defenses, and confuses your resolve. And yet every year, every time this day comes around…I just see people acting like it’s the best thing in the universe.” He shuddered violently, looking positively ill. Grim meowed almost sadly. “I think love is mushy and gross, but…I don’t think it’s THAT bad,” he mewed. His words seemed to snap Caelyum out of it. The witch doctor’s assistant glanced up at you both…and, with a light chuckle, his helpful, friendly smile returned, the shadows departing in an instant. “Well…being mushy and gross doesn’t help,” he joked. Grim sniggered. Your own expression didn’t change, even as the employee leaned forward again. “Seriously, though, what IS your mission?” “We’re gonna be bodyguards!” Grim announced joyously. “Bodyguards?” “There’s a special guest coming to the show on campus tonight,” you explained. “The Headmaster assigned the three of us to look after her, since she’s a VIP.” “A really RICH VIP,” Grim added. “That’s our Headmaster,” Caelyum scoffed with a roll of his eyes. “So, who is this special guest?” “Mia Corazón.” Caelyum’s smile vanished, as if it had been smacked off his face. “Mia…Corazón?” he repeated. “Nya? Do you know her?” Grim asked. Caelyum didn’t answer, looking away; that hollow, haunted stare came to his face as he seemed lost in another world. “Mia Corazón,” he repeated again, then let out a soft, slightly hysterical laugh. “Of all the cursed days of the year…she chooses now…” Before you could ask what was wrong, Tock came lumbering over, arms loaded with various snacks and drinks. “There! That should be enough for all of us…or at least, for me,” he grinned, flashing you a wink that would have made you blush in an instant if your mind weren’t on other matters. He looked towards the assistant…then frowned, eyes narrowing. “Hey…who are you upset with?” The words once again snapped the brooding Caelyum out of it. He looked at Tock with surprise…then shook his head fast and brushed some of his pink hair away from his face. “No one. Nothing,” he insisted, and forced his smile back onto his face. “Now! Let’s, uh…let’s ring this up, aye?” In casual, business-like fashion, Caelyum charged Tock; you were grateful for the recent raise Crowley had given you as you paid for it all. The three of you then left the shop. Just before you exited, you turned to bid Caelyum one last farewell. He smiled and waved back… …But the moment you left, the darkness flooded his face once more, and he looked away, eyes smoldering like hot coals as he reached into his shirt… …Revealing the silver locket that was around his neck. The same sort in the photo Crowley had given you. The young man’s face became cold as an iceberg once more as he opened the locket…and sang to the tune the music box inside played. “Wild and strong, you can’t be contained. Never bound, nor ever chained. Wounds you caused will never mend, and you will never end…”

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“Why did you ask him that question?” Tock Crockwork belched and grunted as he finished up his lunch, licking and sucking on his fingers before looking to you, cheeks bulging as he still chewed his food. “Whuh queshun?” he mumbled out through a full mouth. “About why he was upset?” Grim spoke up, tilting his head. “I mean, he certainly looked upset, so…” “That wasn’t the question he asked though,” you clarified to Grim, then looked to Tock. “You specifically asked, ‘WHO are you upset WITH?’” Tock swallowed and let out a hiccupping burp before speaking. “Mph…yeah, and?” he grunted, patting his stomach and licking his lips free of any crumbs from the sandwich he had devoured. “Well…why did you assume he was upset with someone?” “I didn’t assume, I knew,” snorted Tock, and slung his arms behind his head as the three of you neared the beach of Sage Island. “That was the same look I saw in the mirror every day when I thought of Leona, or those boys back home.” Knowing what had happened in his conflict with Leona, you gulped at Tock Crockwork’s words. “Well, I hope he wasn’t mad at us,” murmured Grim. You smiled thinly; you had a very good idea you knew who Caelyum was mad at, given the context of things…and you were very much hoping you were wrong. You had the sinking feeling those hopes would be dashed as the three of you drew closer to the beach…and a familiar-sounding song, accompanied by the tinkling notes of a music box, drifted through the greenery and into your ears… “Over waves and deep in the blue; I will give up my heart for you. Ten long years I’ll wait to go by: My Love Will Never Die.” The source of the singing soon became clear as you pushed past the last few bushes of the wilderness and stepped onto the open, sunny beach. There was a single white bench nearby; standing beside the bench was a man in what looked like an almost Spartan uniform…and seated upon it was a young woman, with dark skin and long, black hair, dressed in a red and gold dress. In one of her hands, she lifted the pendant of a locket; the source of the music box tune. The lady snapped the locket shut, and she and her chaperone turned fast when they heard yourself and your companions approaching. She smiled, chocolate-toned eyes lighting up with interest. “Oh, hello!” she chuckled, seemingly a bit embarrassed at being caught in her reverie, and stood up as her suspicious compatriot narrowed his eyes at you. “Are you…my bodyguards?” “Yes, ma’am!” chirruped Grim, proudly. “Mia Corazón, I presume?” you smiled, respectfully. “That is right,” the young woman greeted, bowing her head in matching respect and lowering her locket. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” “Wait a minute…why do you need us to guard you?” Tock spoke up, and pointed to the Spartan-looking fellow. “Wouldn’t he be enough?” “Oh, that’s Firme. He actually has a date with his wife,” Mia answered, giving the man a teasing smile.

The guard blushed. “Miss Corazón, not in front of civlians!” he pleaded. Mia chuckled. “Sorry, Firme,” she apologized. “Now go on; I know she’s waiting for you.” Firme nodded gratefully, then glared at the three of you more seriously. “Protect her at any cost; we’re depending on you,” he ordered. “Aww, don’t worry, we’ll keep the little fishstick safe!” Tock smirked, cracking his knuckles and neck. “You can start by NOT calling her ‘fishstick,’” you droned, noting the nervous look on Mia’s face and the anger on Firme’s. You gave both an apologetic smile. “Sorry. He’s half-crocodile. Trust me, though, he’s a softy when you get to know him.” “HEY! I AM NOT!” snapped Tock, angrily. Grim just giggled. The interaction and your promise seemed to relax both denizens of the Coral Sea. Firme bowed to Mia, and then walked towards the beach…and kept walking, straight into the sea, until his head disappeared under the waves. “Well!” Mia smiled, and cheerily hurried towards your group. “Can we go see the show now? I don’t wanna be late!” “Of course…um…Your Excellency?” “Oh, don’t bother with titles like that,” the girl giggled. “Just call me Mia! Everybody does!” “Okay, Mia,” you chuckled, quite liking her warmth and energy. “Follow us, and stay close.” “I will,” Mia promised as the three of you set off along the beach. “Thank you, by the way; I hope this doesn’t cause you too much trouble.” “Quite the opposite,” grumbled Grim, remembering what Crowley had said earlier. “Why do you wanna see some silly show anyway?” sneered Tock. “Oh, it’s not silly!” exclaimed Mia. “The story of the Sea Witch and the Little Mermaid is important among my people…and besides, I think theater is exciting! I always enjoy seeing it!” “Hopefully our show won’t disappoint,” you smiled. Tock just rolled his eyes and scoffed. “I still think it’s for wimps,” he mumbled…then abruptly froze. The rest of you stopped, too, looking to the croc boy as he sniffed the air and growled. “What is it?” Mia asked. “Something wrong?” “Very,” Tock nodded. “We are being watched.” “How do you know?” you asked. “Instinct? Intuition?” Tock growled and narrowed his eyes, looking at you determinedly. “No, meat. We. Are. Being. Watched.” “By who?” whispered Mia, nervously. “I have an idea,” you murmured with some dread. Before Mia could comment on your remark, all three of you heard a sharp yelp, and turned to see that Grim had inexplicably toppled over. The feline-like creature sat up and massaged his bumped noggin. “Owwww,” he moaned. “What happened?” Mia asked, sounding concerned. “I dunno!” Grim whined out. “Just…s-something seemed to come up from under me and…” “GAHR!” You jumped as, right on cue, Tock toppled over as well. Then it was your turn, as you felt something shift under the sand where you stood, and you dropped to the ground. The wind was knocked out of you for a moment, but you managed to sit up just in time to see three large, round humps in the sand…which seemed to move of their own accord. The three humps began to trace a path, circling Mia, who froze up and squeaked like a mouse, clearly confused and frightened. It only got worse when, suddenly, more and more humps seemed to appear out nowhere: at least a dozen or more, which shot through the sand, burrowing through it with a barely-audible scraping sound… …Then, dust flew up as the shapes burst from the ground. As the dust cleared, you and your friends watched wide-eyed as a consortium of familiar white crabs toppled Mia Corazón, and – working together to lift her, carried her off across the beachside. “HEY! PUT ME DOWN! STOP!” Mia cried out, but the crabs wouldn’t listen, and soon vanished from sight. “Nya…we’re off to a good start with this job,” sighed Grim dismally. “After them!” you barked, and leapt to your feet as you dashed after Mia and her arthropoid captors, Grim hot on your heels. Tock grumbled sourly as he dusted himself off then jogged after you. “Taking orders from my lunch…I’m gonna eat that stupid, mask-wearing, feather-loving…!”

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Mia cried out as the crabs carried her along the sand, her “volunteer” bodyguards soon out of sight. She tried to fight free, but the crabs pinched and held her fast, keeping her in place. She wasn’t sure how far or for how long they carried her…but suddenly they stopped, and she let out an “eep!” as they moved into a pillar, and pushed her up, allowing her to stand. The mermaid-in-disguise turned around, panting for breath as she watched the crabs swarm about each other…then, they seemed to coalesce and mesh together; their pale shells took on more colors; hints of pink, brown, and orange… …Until, finally, standing before her was a familiar young man with dreadlocks and a fishnet scarf. In his hand, he held a heart-shaped silver locket. “Come my love, be one with the sea. Rule with me for eternity. Drown all dreams so mercilessly, and leave their souls to me.” He snapped the locket shut at the end of the verse, and paused before uttering, in a mechanical, robotic tone, two words: “Ahoy, Mia.” Mia blinked slowly, absolutely stunned. “…C-Cael?” Caelyum blinked back and said nothing, his face emotionless and blank. Mia slowly smiled, her eyes lighting up…then squealed with joy and rushed forward, throwing her arms around the young man…who stood stiff and rigid, not even looking at her, as she hugged him close. “CAEL! I…oh, Gods, what do I even say?! It’s…it’s been so long…I’ve missed you so much! Where have you been?! Cael…Cael, I-I’m so happy…!” “Let. Go. Of. Me. You. BITCH.” Mia gasped as Caelyum harshly pushed her back, nearly knocking her over. Her heart sank as she stared at the young man, who glared at her, grinding his teeth and clenching his fists. She looked deeply hurt…and not because of the push. “Cael?” she whispered. “Cael…wh-what’s wrong? Why…why are you upset with me?” Cael’s eyes flashed with anger. “What’s wrong?! Why am I upset?!” he repeated. “What in Hades do you THINK is wrong?!” Mia flinched as the boy from the swamplands’ voice rose to a perfect scream. Cautiously, steadily, she approached. “Cael…please…I-I don’t understand. I…I’ve wanted to see you again for such a long time, and now-” “How DARE you?!” shouted Caelyum, silencing the aristocratic mermaid. “How dare you say something like that to me?! After what you did to me, do you expect to believe you’ve ever cared?!” “I…what…I do care!” Mia pleaded, and tears began to twinkle in her eyes. “Cael, what are you talking about?” Cael laughed; a dangerously unhinged, malicious sound. “Oh-ho-ho, you know EXACTLY what I’m talking about! You should!” he spat…then, the bitterness was replaced by pain as he went on. “Two years, Mia. Two years I waited, and you never returned. You…y-you broke your promise to me…and did you ever think of me in those two years? Did you think of me even once in all the time since, until now?” Cael’s eyes began to brim with tears of his own; he was shaking. Mia felt her heart sinking further in her chest. “Of course I did,” she said, softly. “You’re…you’re my best friend.” One could almost hear Caelyum’s last heartstring break. “Best friend,” he repeated, in a dead, soulless voice…then hung his head. “You still don’t get it, do you, Mia? You broke my heart, Corazón…” Head still hung low, dreadlocks casting shadow over his eyes, Caelyum De Macabre lifted one arm, and snapped his fingers…and Mia nervously stepped back as a swarm of crabs appeared to trail across his arm and mesh together…forming a silver cutlass. “…And now, I’m going to break yours. Literally.” Ominously, Caelyum began to approach. Mia felt panic rise in her, and started to back away…then yiped, almost comically, as she tripped on her own dress and tumbled back. “C-Cael…Cael, PLEASE!” she cried out, as the boy loomed over her, his face twisted in anger as he began to lift the sword above his head… “HEY! BACK OFF!” FWOOSH! A jet of blue flame shot between Mia Corazón and Cael De Macabre; the lad from the swamplands jumped back, then growled angrily, turning to face the source. You had finally arrive, with Grim at your side, both of you glaring at the bokor’s assistant. “That’s enough, Caelyum,” you warned. Cael sneered. “It’s not enough,” he hissed, “Until she endures the same amount of PAIN and AGONY I HAVE!” With a roar, he rounded about to try and strike Mia down…then froze in place when he found she had seemingly disappeared. Startled and caught greatly off guard, he was unable to avoid the green scaled fist that grabbed hold of the back of his jacket, and cried out as, with a roar, the owner of the fist hurled about seven feet away, sending him rolling through the send. His sword spun through the air before stabbing into the ground right at the edge of the shore. Caelyum coughed and snarled and spat as he got onto his hands and knees…then glared as he found Tock Crockwork – now in his full “true form” – glaring at him, fangs and claws bared. “Keep away from the fishstick, swamp meat,” he spat. “Thank you,” Mia whispered. Tock just smirked at her – somewhat cockily but not cruelly – then glarde back at Caelyum as yourself and Grim moved to stand beside him, all of you making sure to create a barrier before poor Mia. Cael rose to his feet shakily. “Leave her alone, Caelyum,” you said. “This is not your fight!” he snapped back. “Uh…yeah, it kinda is,” Grim snorted. “We told you, this is our job today!” “You don’t know who you’re protecting,” Cael viciously sneered, his shoulders trembling with fury, his fingers clenched so tight that his knuckles turned white as the bones under his skin. “She cursed me!” “Cursed you?!” Mia exclaimed. “Caelyum, I never did ANYTHING to you!” “Yes, you did!” Cael answered…and gulped back a sob before explaining: “You made me love you.” All eyes widened; you and your friends looked to Mia, then back at Caelyum. “Ohhhh…now the pieces are coming together,” Grim murmured. “I know the look in your eyes, meat, and it’s not love,” Tock said, darkly. “Not love as it should be, anyway.” “Cael…I-I’m so sorry,” Mia quavered. “Of course you’re sorry,” Cael scoffed. “Everyone’s sorry when it’s too late.” So saying, he lifted his hand…and the sword that had stabbed into the ground “dissolved” into a group of crabs. They scurried across the beach, crawled up his side…and reformed into a cutlass in his grasp once more. “Put the weapon away, Caelyum!” you beseeched. “It doesn’t have to be like this!” “Yes it does!” Cael yelled. “Don’t you get it?! I can’t be free! I’ll always remember! I’ll always feel that pain! Love is a curse; a curse that hurts me, every day of my existence…but after today, I’m going to change that.” He closed his eyes. You had a bad feeling you knew what you’d see when he opened them again…and you were correct. One of his eyes was suddenly surrounded by a fiery aura. “Today, I break the curse.” KA-ZAM! The familiar black cloud of Overblot surrounded the shopkeeper’s boy. Blue and orange light flashed in the gaps between the vapor as it swirled around the fellow from the swamplands…until finally, the mist parted. When it did, you all found that Caelyum De Macabre had gone through an alarming transformation. His brown-tinted clothes had vanished, replaced with a blue-gray uniform like a navy seaman. One of his arms was stuck into the sleeve of a long, tattered cerulean coat with gold lining, which hung about his shoulders almost like a cape. A blood red sash was lashed about his middle. While his left eye was surrounded by orange aura, a tattoo had appeared over his right, in the image of a pirate medallion. His dreadlocks had transformed into a head of writhing, wriggling, pinkish-purple tentacles, like those of a squid; each tendril’s tip was smeared with ink. His left arm had become a white crab claw, ink oozing from its joins; his right leg had become a crab’s leg, too, and was also oozing with Blot. A single black boot covered his one human foot…and he still held his cutlass in his one human hand. Cael grinned viciously, pupils pinpricks as he pointed his sword at you. “Yo-Ho, me hearties!” he bellowed. “Shiver ‘em from stem to stern!” At these words, the ground before his feet seemed to ripple…and then, a swarm of Locker Crabs came scrambling from the ground, racing towards your group. “I’ll take care of this!” Grim pronounced, and summoned a wall of flame. As the fire struck the crabs, they vanished in a cloud of silver smoke…but more just kept coming! Caelyum laughed and began to move towards your group, swaggering as the point of his crab-leg stabbed into the ground repeatedly. Seeing the approaching dark mage, Grim paused to hurl a fireball in his direction…only for Cael to split in half, crab legs showing in the “seam” of his being, as the fireball hurtled past without causing any harm. He stitched himself back together and kept moving forward, as if nothing had happened. Tock Crockwork roared and charged at Cael, swinging a punch at him…but De Macabre simply swept up his crab claw and, in a fluid, wrenching motion, whirled Tock about and flung him to the beach floor. He grinned with deranged excitement as he moved closer to yourself and Mia, leaving Tock to choke in the dust. “Hold them off, Grim!” you called out as he continued to scorch the crabs. “I’ll try!” Grim called back. “Run for it, Minion! RUN NOW!” And you did, holding onto Mia’s arm as you dragged her after yourself. With a wild laugh, Caelyum lifted his sword up…and then “melted” into a swarm of crabs, which scurried after the two of you as you raced along the beach. Behind you, Tock snarled, clutching his banged skull as he watched the horde of crabs vanish. He angrily kicked away a few that Grim didn’t manage to stop, and then charged forward. Grim panted; he was already growing weary. “I…I can’t hold them off!” he meowed. “There’s…there’s too many-EEP!” “Stop whining and shut up,” snarled Tock, whisking Grim up in one arm and sprinting on, the pair pursued by the remaining Locker Crabs. “We’ve got more important things to worry about, come on!” Unaware that your friends were on the chase, you hurried along with Mia Corazón. The crabs that made up Cael’s being clicked and scraped behind you with a deeply unsettling sound, urging you to go faster and faster. “Wait!” Mia gasped. “If…I…can…talk…to him…!” “I don’t think he’s in a mood to talk!” you replied. “Right now, all we can do is…!” You trailed off and stopped short as the crabs suddenly caught up with you…and then moved around you, reforming in front of you into a column. Thinking fast you looked around… …And were just in time to grab hold of sturdy tree branch, as a sword reshaped and then stabbed at you. You barely had a moment to parry the strike, the blade cutting a notch into the wooden limb you held. “Stay behind me!” you hissed to Mia, as Cael reformed fully. “So, it’s a duel then?” Cael cackled. “Alright! EN GARDE!” You yelped, instinctively blocking as the sword slashed at you once more. The slash was followed by a lunge; you jumped back quickly and parried that strike, too. CLING-CLANG-CLING-CLANG! The cutlass and the branch clattered against each other, the sound of the steel against wood that was tougher than it looked ringing out. Each time Cael tried to get around you to lunge at Mia, you blocked his path. You laughed softly, amazed you were holding out; guess one didn’t know how good they’d be at something like a swordfight till they tried! You ducked another slash, and responded by swinging your stick around. WHACK! Caelyum reeled as you managed to smack him across the face…then slowly turned back. He looked…annoyed. “Ow,” was all he said, almost sarcastically, before swinging his blade around again. You quickly lifted your branch… SWACK! And gulped nervously as the cutlass sliced it clean in half. “Oh, boy.” “HA HA!” laughed Cael, and lifted his crab leg, kicking you hard in the stomach. You coughed, dazed and winded as you crumpled to the ground. Now, nothing was standing between the enraged Caelyum and his prey: Mia. The mermaid with legs began to back away in fright…then cried out sharply as Cael thrust out his crab claw and grabbed her by the throat with it. A grin of evil triumph spread across his face as he lifted his weapon above his head. “And here we are at last,” he crooned with twisted delight, and squeezed, making Mia gasp for air. “Any last words, my dear?” Mia gulped…and looked pleadingly into the Swamplander’s eyes as she uttered five simple words. “Cael…please…I love you!” Just before the last three words were uttered, Cael had prepared to attack…but then he froze. The grip of his pincer loosened as she said those three golden words, and the demented smile vanished from his face. He hesitated, as if those words had caused something in his brain to just shut down… Which was all the opportunity you needed. CRACK! “GAH!” exclaimed Caelyum, and dropped Mia, who coughed as she hit the ground. His tentacle hairdo wriggled like a horde of angry snakes as he glared at you in rage: the stone you had thrown at his shoulder had hurt! With a furious roar, he swung his sword around his head three times, trying to cut you into pieces. You ducked and dodged each strike as fast as you could…only to fall back as Cael summoned a horde of sand crabs. You squirmed and grimaced as the crabs pinned you to the ground, acting like organic shackles. You winced as each time you moved, they pinched you hard, making you stay still. Caelyum smirked victoriously, and pointed the tip of his cutlass at your heart. “Tell me, Prefect,” he taunted. “Do you fear death?” “Do you?” CHOMP! Caelyum began to turn around towards the voice, his face etched with surprise…and stayed perfectly still, as if he’d become a statue, paralyzed in shock. The red marking of Tock Crockwork’s unique power – One Minute to Die – was evident on his left arm. “NOW!” the crocodile shouted, as Grim hurried over. The feline-like creature wasted no time: he focused his power, a bright blue aura surrounding him…before, with a spiteful hiss, sending a huge jet of flame towards Caelyum. Caelyum was sent flying through the air, clothing scorched, and rolled across the dirt, still in the position he had been stuck in. Only a few seconds later, he convulsed, and groaned, trying to stand up… …Only to find Tock looming over him. “This,” the crocodile hissed, “Is why I’M top of the food chain, snack meat!” WHAM! He spun around, slapping his tail across Cael’s face…and the Overblotting mage fell still and silent, rendered swiftly unconscious. The sword disappeared without warning from his hand, as if it had never been there. The crabs he had summoned all vanished in the blink of an eye: just like at the shop, one moment they were there, and the next they were not. All four of you – yourself, Mia, and your friends – sighed with relief. “Thanks,” you nodded to Tock as he helped you to your feet. “Hey, I’ve gotta protect my territory; that includes you,” Crockwork shrugged. You decided not to comment on that. “Are you okay, Miss Corazón?” meowed Grim, nuzzling up against the mermaid’s side. She smiled weakly and patted his head before standing. “Physically, yes,” she said. The teenaged girl’s eyes then lit up with concern as she hurried over to Cael’s side. “Cael…Cael, are you okay? S-Speak to me!” she pleaded. “He just tried to kill you!” Grim snapped out. “He wasn’t thinking straight,” Mia defended him. “Just…h-he didn’t understand…” She sniffled and bowed her head. “…C-Caelyum…I’m so sorry…” You and Grim shared a sad sort of look. Tock just looked confused, above all else. “What happened between you two?” the croc grimaced, crossing his scaly arms. “I think we’re about to find out,” you said, and pointed as silver mist began to wisp off of Caelyum De Macabre’s form. A moment later, a blinding white light surrounded the young man…and the mist formed a cloud, inside of which – as always seemed to happen – pictures from the past began to appear… “Tag! You’re it!” “I’ll get you! Ha Ha Ha!” In the swamplands of the Jubilee Port, a small boy with pink dreadlocks giggled and hid behind a tree by the riverbank. For several seconds, he sat anxiously…then yelped when, out of the river burst a familiar, dark face with flowing raven hair. “GOTCHA!” sang out the girl with the gold and ruby tail, and reached out a hand to playfully tap his shoulder. “No fair!” huffed the boy. “I always have to stay near the water; you never let me have an advantage!” The girl giggled and smirked teasingly. “Not my fault you’re a lousy swimmer,” she cooed. The boy grumbled and pouted. She smiled gently. “I’m sorry, Cael; I didn’t mean it,” she said, placing a hand on his leg… “AHA!” the boy laughed, and tapped her hand before jumping away. “You’re it again!” “HEY! THAT’S CHEATING!” The two laughed as the girl swam through the river, chasing the bayou boy up and down the banks…before finally leaping out of the river with a victorious cry. “RAAAAH!” “EEK!” Young Caelyum yelped as he was thrown to the ground. The girl with the fish tail grinned, flippers wagging happily as she kept him pinned. “Gotcha again!” she sang out. Young Cael giggled and wiggled under her. “Hey, lemme go!” he demanded with a slight laugh. “Hmmmm…if I do, will you just tag me again?” “…Maybe?” The mermaid glared…and tickled her friend with her tail. Cael squealed with laughter before flashing an evil smile. “Ohhhhh, you wanna play that way, huh?” He tickled her back and the two rolled across the bank…before yelping and splashing into the river. A moment later, both rose from the depths Caelyum coughing and floundering. “Help! Mia, help! I’m drowning!” “I’ve got you, hold on!” Mia said, and helped Cael back to shore. The boy sighed with relief and began to wring out his clothes. “Thank you,” he gasped out. “No problem,” Mia smiled. “I’m sorry you got all wet…” “It’s okay; I’ve got other clothes,” Cael smiled. Mia nodded, then smiled a bit more sadly. “I still should have been more careful: there may be more clothes, but there’s only one Caelyum.” Cael blushed. “Hush, you’re just teasing me now…” “No. I’m not,” Mia said seriously. “You’re my best friend, Cael.” Cael blinked, pausing in his activities. “…But…don’t you have other mermaid friends?” “I may have OTHER friends, but you’re my BEST friend,” smiled Mia. “And there’s only one of you. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” Cael blinked again…then smiled sentimentally. “Heh…well, um…you’re my best friend, too, Mia. And, uh…a-and I feel the same.” “I’m glad,” Mia smiled. A pause. “You should really suck less at swimming though.” “Oh, hush. Say! Maybe you can teach me?” “Sure!” That word seemed to be a cue, for the scene changed to a few years later; the same river on the bayou, the same boy and girl, just a little older. “MARCO!” “POLO!” The Mermaid floated with her upper half above the water, eyes closed, flapping her tail as she blindly searched for her friend. Cael would pop up now and again with a gleaming, gloating grin as he watched her try to find him: he’d learned to swim VERY well in the years since that time playing tag. “MARCO!” Mia called out again. “POLO!” laughed Cael. “Oh, this is impossible, you’re too fast!” “Suck less at swimming,” teased Caelyum. “I’m a MERMAID, all we DO is swim!” “You can walk!” “I need a potion or a spell for that,” huffed Mia, and turned around, trying to feel about for her friend. Cael smirked and dove under again, swimming cautiously around her in the wide river… …But as he popped up again, he was due for a terrible sight. He gasped as he saw Mia blindly reaching closer to the shore…where a venomous serpent glared at her oncoming form almost hungrily… “MARCO!” “MIA, WATCH OUT!” Confused, Mia opened her eyes…then gasped as she saw the snake rearing back to bite her! She pulled away just in time, and at the same moment, Cael glared and snapped his fingers. The snake heard a clicking noise, and turned its head to find a white crab snapping its pincers. The pincers swung towards its throat… SNICKER-SNACK! And that was the end of the snake. Mia swam back to Caelyum’s side as she snapped his fingers again and the crab disappeared. He hugged her close. “Are you okay?” he whispered, worriedly. “Yeah…i-it didn’t get me,” she panted with relief, and squeezed him tightly. “Thank…th-thank you…” Caelyum smiled warmly and returned the hug…then froze up as Mia leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you,” she said again, and nuzzled against his bare chest. Cael blinked…then blushed red as a tomato and grumbled. “…Hey, what are friends for…? More time passed, and the swamp disappeared. The scene now became a lonely pier. On it sat Caelyum and Mia, who was now in full human form. “Do you really have to go?” he whispered. Mia nodded sadly, hanging her head. Cael bit his lip, and looked away, tragedy in his eyes. “…When…w-when will you be back?” he asked, timidly. “I don’t know,” Mia admitted sadly, then smiled gently up at her friend. “My mother said I need to start learning more about the family business; spending less time on land and…well…with you.” Cael frowned and clenched his fists. “I see.” Mia’s smile fell…and she gave Caelyum a hug. He relaxed. “She’s set in her ways,” she said softly. “But I will never forget you. And I WILL come back.” “Do you promise?” “Of course. You’re my best friend,” smiled Mia…then reached into a bag she had with her, stationed between the two. “Here…I have proof…” Cael tilted his head as out of the bag she pulled two silver necklaces with heart shaped lockets. She gave him one, and clasped the other around her neck. “What is this?” Cael asked, crinkling his nose in confusion. “A sign that we both share the same heart,” Mia said, and giggled. “That’s the really sappy way of saying it, anyway. Put it on and open it!” Cael did, and at the same time he opened the locket, Mia did too…and soft, beautiful melody chimed from the music box contained. Caelyum’s eyes widened. “That’s the song you taught me,” he recognized, and looke dup to Mia. “The one about the pirate and the goddess of the sea?” Mia nodded. “It’s your favorite…my favorite…OUR favorite,” she said gently, and took Cael’s hands in hers, looking into his eyes with deep-rooted affection. “And as long as we share these lockets, share these songs…we’ll never truly be away from each other.” Caelyum smiled weakly. “I don’t know about that,” he chuckled, wryly. “But…thank you, Mia.” He paused. “You…you know I love you…right?” Mia blushed. “Yes. And I love you too.” Cael gaped. “You do?” “Of course, silly! You’re my best friend!” Cael blinked…then smiled and shook his head wearily. “Yeah…I know,” he said softly. “I…I know.” A pause…and the pair began to sing together to the mingled tune on their music boxes as they watched the sun sink on the horizon beyond the sea. “Warm and welcoming as the sea, someday I will return to thee. Hear my voice, sing with the tide: Our Love Will Never Die.” Time passed once more, but the music box still played. The next scene played in silence, as Cael lay on his bed silently one night. He hummed to the tune on the locket, and glanced sorrowfully towards a calendar on his wall. Every date was crossed out with a red X. He sighed…then snapped the locket shut…before a lightbulb seemed to go off over his head, and he reached towards his book case, grabbing a specific spell book… This short tableaux was followed by another as Caelyum was now found…underwater. His lower half had become a white-scaled fish’s tail as he swam through the water, using a spell that would turn him into a merman for a few short hours. He’d taken a boat out to the coordinates where he knew Mia lived. Now, he swam quickly and quietly through the city, looking for Mia. His eyes darted this way and that, seeking some sign of his long lost friend; two years without any sort of contact – never a call, never anything written – and he was now so close to seeing her again! He smiled wider as he moved into one of the higher rent neighborhoods of the underwater area, carefully brushing past other, natural merfolk going about their business. His heart was beating fast in his chest; when he found her, he’d tell her everything. How he felt, how much it hurt to be without her, how much he never wanted to be separated again! Then he found her, as he turned an alley…and that fast beating heart seemed to skip a beat… …As his face filled with sorrow. Only yards away – never noticing he was there, he saw a strong, burly-looking merman with blonde hair…hugging his Mia and kissing her full on the lips. He clamped his eyes shut…and swam away, out of the city and back towards the surface. His tears were lost with the tides. Thus ended the vision, as the blinding light faded, leaving an unconscious Caelyum De Macabre lying on the ground, back to his usual self. “…Prefect?” “Yeah, Grim?” “Is it, like…a requirement that we stand here for several seconds in total silence after we see those?” “No, I think it just happens.” “Ah. Okay then.” Tock Crockwork said nothing. A few moments later, Cael groaned and began to stir. He blinked his eyes and clutched his pink-haired head as he started to sit up. “Ugh…what…wh-what happened?” he slurred out. “You tried to turn my food into shish-kabob,” droned Tock, thumbing towards you. “Shut up,” you grumbled. Confused, Cael turned towards your voices, and looked about to say something…until he heard sniffling and whimpering. He turned…and found the teary-eyed face of Mia staring back at him. “C-Cael,” she whimpered…then let out a squealing cry that caught him off guard as she threw herself upon him and began to cry. “CAEL, I’M SO SORRY! I’m so, so sorry…please…please, I’m sorry, PLEASE…!” Caelyum, as you might imagine, looked beyond uncomfortable…and with a growl, he managed to push Mia off of him. She whimpered like a kicked puppy as, without a word, he got to his feet and turned away from her, one hand on his chest, clutching his silver locket. “Sorry isn’t enough,” he answered, coldly. Mia gulped…and stood up. “Cael…please don’t walk away,” she begged. “Why not?” Caelyum snarled back over his shoulder, and began to stumble away. “Because I love you!” Cael stopped. He didn’t turn around…but he stopped. Mia paused…and took a deep breath. “I love you,” she said, firmly now, not desperately. “I…I always loved you, but…but I was…I don’t know, I…I was worried…” She hung her head and paused before going on. Cael turned his head slightly to show he was listening. “When I returned to the sea, my mother didn’t want me to ever go back to the land. She forbid it. She told me I had to stay under the water, and…and find a proper husband. She told me to forget about you, and…that merman you saw? He was…my betrothed.” Cael growled. “WAS,” Mia pointed out, and then went on quickly: “Cael, I could NEVER forget you, and I could NEVER stop loving you. Those two years…they were agony for me. That time in the alley…I asked him to kiss me because I wanted to show him we WEREN’T right for each other. He agreed; there just…wasn’t a spark. We liked each other, but…we both knew it would be wrong.” She swallowed, and lifted her head. “So…we both spoke to my mother. And…she realized what she’d been doing was wrong. The very next day, I went back to the swamplands; I looked everywhere for you…you weren’t there.” Silence. “I’m so sorry, Caelyum,” she sniffled. “I’m…I’m so-” Cael stopped her with a raised hand…and slowly turned towards her. All of you were surprised to see tears in his eyes. “…I just tried to kill you.” “Yes.” “I ran off over this whole misunderstanding.” “Yes.” “All this pain, all this time…and you really loved me?” “Yes.” “And…you…still love me? After all that?” Mia smiled. “Yes.” Cael blinked…then let out a wet laugh. “Wow,” he chuckled. “I…I guess swimming isn’t the only thing we both suck at. I mean…we’re n-not very good at this whole ‘relationship’ thing, either, are we?” Mia shared a sniffling laugh…and the pair promptly ran into each other’s arms. “I’m so happy I found you,” Mia sobbed with joy. “I’ve missed you so much…” “Not half as much as I’ve missed you,” Cael choked. The pair squeezed each other…then backed up, holding each other’s hands and staring lovingly into each other’s eyes. “Play the song you sang long ago,” Cael began. “And wherever the storm may blow,” Mia continued. “You will find the key to my heart,” both finished. “We’ll never be apart.” “Aaaaand…kiss,” you murmured to yourself with a smile, as the pair did exactly that. Tock snorted, rolling his eyes as Grim stuck out his tongue and grumbled something about “soppy mush.” The two lovebirds parted after a few seconds…then seemed to remember you were all standing nearby, and blushed before backing away from each other like scalded cats. “Um…s-sorry,” Caelyum mumbled. “About trying to destroy us, or for that sappy display?” droned Tock. “Because I can forgive one of those…” “It’s the destroying us part, isn’t it?” you guessed. “Yyyyep.” Cael hung his head and shuffled his feet guiltily. “…I’ve…had a lot of pain bottled up for years,” he said silently. “And…when I heard she was coming here…I…well…” “It’s alright,” you soothed, moving closer. “I can understand. And for the record, we won’t tell the Headmaster.” “Nya…or Chief Jehan,” Grim added. “Claude Jehan?” Mia spoke up, and tilted her head. “Is he really as scary as they say back home? The Ashengrottos and Leeches have a LOT of stories to tell.” “I’d imagine,” you snickered. “And no. He’s not that scary.” “Right. He’s WORSE,” Tock responded. “Amen,” you and Grim chorused. Mia gulped nervously; Cael chuckled softly, smiling at her with puppy-eyed affection. “I…hope he’s not going to be at the play tonight,” she said slowly. “Trust me, you’ll be fine,” you soothed. “Well, we won’t be if we don’t get there on time!” Grim reminded you. “We’re already behind schedule, thanks to all this!” “The hairball has a point,” nodded Tock, stiffly, then grumbled under his breath: “I still say it’s all for pansies, though…” All of you chuckled…except Mia, who took Cael by the hand. “Can…can he come, too?” she asked, shyly. Cael looked shocked, as did Grim and Tock. You just smiled wider. “If he wants to,” you answered. Cael blinked…then grinned so wide his face nearly seemed to split in two. “Please!” he nodded eagerly. “Then come on!” you called, and gestured for the reunited lovers to follow. “Let’s get moving before my pay gets docked! I have a pet to feed, you know!” “I AM NOT YOUR PET!” snapped Grim, while Tock cackled with amusement, snapping his fingers and resuming his humanoid form. Caelyum De Macabre and Mia Corazón just smiled and squeezed each other’s hands, following at a steady pace. It took longer than it should have to reach the theater, in the end, but you still made it in the nick of time. When asked why it took so long, you had an honest answer: Cael and Mia were so busy staring into one another’s eyes with everlasting love, it made getting there quickly difficult. In your mind, and theirs, it was more than worth it.

 The End

[clumsyclifford]

kiss in the kitchen like it’s a dance floor

Calum hums. "I could stay with you."

Again Michael's heart gives a lurch. "Really?"

"Yeah, why not?"

HELLO!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY @jbhmalum​ this is for you i got cute in the ao3 notes and im worried about repeating myself but anyway i really just love and treasure you je t’adore i really wish i could compliment you better in french but i simply do not have the words so suffice it to say that i am so so happy to know you i love reading your fics you are so unbelievably talented not to mention just mad cute and just overall an absolute delight i hope your birthday is super amazing and yeah i love you lots

so here’s a really fluffy domestic malum quarantine getting together fic per the birthday girl’s request i know you’re all thinking fluff???? from bella??? but joke’s on you because i wrote this several weeks ago don’t worry i am still emo inside

title from sunflower vol. 6 by harry styles <3 king shit

read it here on ao3

At risk of sounding overdramatic, Michael is going to die unless he sees Calum in the next week. Possibly less. He's experiencing severe Calum withdrawal, and it shows. Sleeping alone sucks more than Michael can put into words. There's no warm, steady weight against his back anymore, just the flimsy brush of his own duvet. He tucks it as tightly around himself as possible, but it's just not the same as Calum's embrace. 

"I miss you," he whines over FaceTime one evening. 

"You better," Calum replies. Then, immediately, "Sorry, I mean, I miss you too, obviously."

"You're on thin ice here," Michael grumbles. 

"You already know I miss you," Calum tells him.

"I hate being in quarantine. This sucks so bad, Cal."

Calum nods, sighs. "You know…I've been in, like, proper quarantine for two weeks. More than that. Haven't seen anyone or done anything."

Michael makes a face. "Really? No one? Nothing?"

"Yeah, but I mean." Calum tilts his head on the screen. "I could probably come to yours."

For a moment Michael's heart leaps into his throat, and then, just as quickly, it plummets. "You can't," he says. "The travel, and plus then you'd be going back, and I'm pretty sure I've been in some suspicious places recently. I mean I'm being careful, but you know. I don't want you to get it or bring it back with you."

Calum hums. "I could stay with you."

Again Michael's heart gives a lurch. "Really?"

"Yeah, why not?"

"That'd be so amazing," Michael breathes. "Beyond awesome. Oh my God. Can — would you? Seriously?"

"Are you kidding me?" Calum gives Michael a look, like, do you even know me?  "Michael. Like, I don't want to overstate things here, but I miss you more than I think I've ever missed anyone, excepting possibly Duke."

"Not as much as I miss you," Michael returns. "I've never missed anyone more. At all. Dogs included." Instantly that feels wrong. "Okay. That's a lie. But —"

"Ha!" Calum crows. "I miss you more. Get destroyed, Cliffo."

"You know what," Michael says petulantly, "maybe you shouldn't come visit."

"Funny," Calum says. "I'll sort my shit out here and then I can probably leave in a few days, is that alright?"

It's more than alright. It's actually the most brilliant thing Michael's ever heard. The prospect of seeing Calum lifts his mood way up into the stratosphere, and he grins, bubbly.

"Yeah, yeah, perfect," he says. "Can't wait."

The look on Calum's face says he can't wait, either.

-

It's been too many weeks to count since Michael's been hugged, but the moment Calum is in his arms, the time melts away. "Oh my God, I missed you so fucking much," he murmurs into Calum's shoulder. Calum chuckles.

"Yeah," he says, all fond. "Missed you too, Mikey."

"Let's never stop hugging," Michael suggests. "Ever."

Calum pats his back. "I think life would get pretty difficult pretty quickly."

"I don't really see how."

"The bathroom, for starters."

"We'd figure it out. I've seen you naked."

"That's not. Really." Calum laughs. "Fuck. I really missed you. Come on. Invite me in."

"No," Michael says, as Calum pulls reluctantly out of his hold. Calum frowns. "You might have corona."

"Oh, fuck off."

Laughing loudly, Michael leads Calum in. Immediately, Southy and Moose are at his heels, yapping excitedly. Calum kneels, grinning. "Hey, guys! Miss me much?"

"They can just smell Duke on you," Michael says in mock-contempt. It's generally accepted that Moose and Southy favor Calum over, well, basically anyone, but Michael refuses to cave. They're his fucking dogs.

"Oh, fuck," Calum remembers, straightening up, to Moose's displeasure. "Duke."

"Go get him," Michael says. "I'll put your shit in your room."

Calum smiles at Michael, the big, bright one, eyes crinkling in the corners so they almost disappear. Michael thinks if he had to pick one thing to wax poetic about forever, it would be this smile, and how it makes him feel gooey and melty inside whenever Calum turns it on him.

"What?" Michael finally demands, when Calum doesn't say anything.

Calum shakes his head. "Does it have to be something, man? I'm just fuckin' happy."

Michael breathes out, feeling lighter than he has in ages. "Me too."

And with that, Calum turns and goes to get Duke from the car. Michael carries Calum's stuff to Calum's room, which is actually a guest room that's been broken in by Calum enough times that they started calling it his. Not that he stays there that often. Borne of habit from both childhood and hotel rooms, Michael and Calum always elect to share the bed. This, among millions of things, has made Michael's life hard in quarantine. Sleeping alone sucks.

Michael gives the room a once-over as he deposits Calum's bags down. It has minimal decorations but the few that are here are very much Calum. A photograph of the sunset off the beach near their childhood homes hangs above the dresser, and there's a comically large poster of Alex Gaskarth above the bed, which, Michael is somewhat sure, had been the result of a lost bet. 

Arms wrap around his middle. "Hey."

"You get Duke set up?" Michael asks, resting his hands against Calum's and tilting his head back.

"On a trial basis, yeah. He's gotten really territorial about his food, though, so if either of your kids tries anything…"

"My kids?"

"Your dogs," Calum says dismissively. "I'm just saying, Duke could kick their asses."

"Um, excuse me?" Michael twists around, prying himself out of Calum's grip. "First of all, it would be two on one, and there's no way your weak-ass mutt could —"

"Weak-ass mutt?"

" — also, Southy can and will scratch, and I know for a fact Moose has never read the Geneva Convention."

"Yeah, but they like me more," Calum says cheekily. Michael makes an offended face, and Calum swoops in and kisses his cheek.

"Hey, don't try that shit. They do not like you more."

“Okay,” Calum says, in a very unconvincing voice. “So. What’s for dinner?”

“Nothing for you if you keep this up,” Michael grumbles, scowling.

Calum chuckles. “I can look through your pantry and make something?”

“I just said I’m not feeding you.”

“Right, that’s why I’m going to be feeding you. ”

Michael huffs. “Don’t cook, we can order something.”

“No, I’m gonna cook. I’ve missed cooking for you.”

“Really? For me? ”

“Yes,” Calum says, looking strangely at Michael. “For you. I’ve missed spending time with you. Doing things for you. Why do you think I sent you the care package?”

“Because you love me?”

“Yeah,” Calum says, which is a little unfair, because Michael had been teasing and had expected Calum to tease in return. But Calum just looks matter-of-fact. “Exactly. So let me cook for you.”

Michael squirms, torn between the desire to make another joke or to let Calum’s love settle over his shoulders like a second skin. “Okay,” he concedes. “I’ll be supervising so I know you won’t poison me, though.”

Calum’s eyes crinkle with his smile. “Oh, no. Hanging out with me in the kitchen while I cook? I can’t think of anything worse.”

“Stop being so fucking sappy,” Michael whines. “You’re making me feel bad for being bitchy.”

“No, by all means,” Calum says airily. “Keep mocking me, your best friend, while I remind you over and over again how much I’ve missed you. I don’t mind at all.”

“You’re a shit,” Michael says, swatting at Calum’s shoulder. “Go make me dinner, peasant.”

“Bossy.”

“You asked to make dinner!”

Calum laughs, and turns to go start dinner. Michael trails after, because whatever he says, however he mocks Calum, he’s missed him far too much to let him out of Michael’s sight for too long. 

(And also, Michael likes to try and distract Calum while he cooks. It’s in his top five favorite sports.)

-

Having Calum here feels so natural it makes Michael wonder if they’d ever actually spent any time apart or if it had been a hallucination. They fall back into routine so easily, routine established from every part of their lives spent together; traditions created back in school, behaviors formed and reinforced through years of sharing hotel rooms, habits only known to the other. Calum slots back into the Calum-shaped gap he’d left when quarantine started, and it’s as if he’d never been gone. 

Michael likes the bubble they’re existing in now, where they speak to no one but each other, go nowhere but the store to replenish depleted groceries, and pretend that time isn’t passing in the outside world. They make a dent in their long list of movies to watch together, and occasionally make fun of. Calum runs in the morning while Michael sleeps, and every morning wakes him for breakfast while Michael bitches. They walk their dogs together. 

(Michael gapes when Calum lets Duke off his leash.

“Since fucking when?” he accuses.

“He’s a grown dog,” Calum says sarcastically, rolling his eyes. “Michael, he’s like a foot long with attachment issues. He won’t go anywhere.”

Michael stares reproachfully at Moose and South. They stare innocently back. Calum chuckles and pats Michael on the back. “You can let ‘em off as long as I’m here. You know they won’t run away from me.”

“Fuck you,” Michael retorts, looping the leash once more around his wrist. Dream on, he thinks, eyeing his dogs.)

And it’s easy, for a week or two, to think that this is just how people are, or if not, that this is just how they are, how Michael and Calum exist in the world. They’ve been best friends since forever, and there’s no one else in Michael’s life who fills the shoes that Calum does — and why should there be, when he has Calum? It’s not like Michael’s ever needed anyone else, or anything else. Homeless or starving or broke or on a deserted island or stranded in outer space or drowning in an ocean or on death row, Michael’s only wish would be Calum.

Of course it would, though. Calum is everything. Michael’s known that for ages.

They don’t even start under the pretense that Calum will be staying in “his” room; from his very first night at Michael’s he doesn’t even open that door, just follows after Michael when Michael declares he’s going to retire for the night and slips under the blanket with him, wordlessly, a silent agreement that there’s no reason to torture themselves sleeping alone when they don’t need to. This quarantine has given them both a new perspective on solitude; namely, avoid at all costs. So Michael snuggles up to Calum, content even to be the little spoon if it means Calum’s the one whose front is all lined up with Michael’s back, whose arm is slung tightly over Michael’s middle, an unspoken promise that Michael’s not getting away from Calum if Calum has any say. It’s comforting to be held, but not necessary; Michael wouldn’t leave Calum’s arms if the house were on fire.

(Okay, maybe if the house were on fire. But he’d definitely wake Calum for that.)

They do the bare minimum promoting CALM — mostly Michael likes leaving that stuff to Luke anyway, who, as lead singer, gets the bulk of the attention for it. Sometimes Michael decides to be resentful about that, but now it’s nice to know that the world doesn’t expect much from him, from either of them. They FaceTime with Luke and Ashton, who express openly and loudly how envious they are of Calum and Michael spending time together. The world spins on, with Michael purposefully ignoring it. Life is wonderful.

“Right, what’s next on the list?” Calum asks, handing Michael a glass of water and collapsing onto the couch. He kicks his legs up and stretches them across Michael’s lap. Michael gives him a look, and Calum just gives Michael a cheeky grin as he takes a sip of his own water.

“The Umbrella Academy, ” Michael says.

“Isn’t that a show?”

“Yeah, well, it’s next on the list.”

Calum frowns. “Why haven’t we got a separate list for TV shows?”

Michael rolls his eyes. “Because we’re idiots? Or because we probably never anticipated having this much time to actually get through the list. Do you want to watch it or not?”

“Oh, definitely,” Calum says. “Isn’t that, fuckin’…Mikey Way’s, or something? One of the MCR guys?”

“Gerard. Yeah.”

“Dope,” Calum says. Michael reaches for the remote while Calum pulls his legs off of Michael, shuffling around on the couch until his head is on Michael’s lap, legs thrown up over the armrest. Michael settles his free hand onto Calum’s crown, running his fingers along the short hair over his scalp. It’s not that he prefers Calum with more hair — generally speaking, Michael’s favorite version of Calum is always whichever one exists at the moment — but he does miss having more hair to play with. He suspects Calum misses that, too. Calum always liked Michael playing with his hair.

“You might have trouble drinking if you’re laying down like this,” Michael observes wryly, although he hopes Calum doesn’t sit up. It may be stupidly domestic, to be like this with Calum, but that’s always been them, and Michael likes it that way. Prefers it. Friends are stupidly domestic sometimes. Aren’t they?

“Whatever,” Calum says, setting his glass blindly onto the floor in front of the couch. “Don’t, like, kick to the right, and we’ll be fine.”

Michael shakes his head fondly and hits play on the first episode of the show. It’s a good show, and for the first episode he and Calum are both equally taken by it. When it ends, Duke shuffles into the room in search of company, and Calum pats the couch to invite him up. “My son,” he whispers as Duke precariously attempts to climb the couch. “Come here, my son. I can lift you up. I can show you what you want to see and take you where you want to be.”

“Are you,” Michael says, briefly distracted from starting the next episode. “Are you singing Capital Cities to Duke?”

“Shut up,” Calum says, making grabby hands towards Duke until Duke gets the message and comes close enough for Calum to grab. “You’re just jealous ‘cause neither of your dogs want to hang out with you.”

“Because they’re normal dogs who sleep at this hour.” Duke settles himself onto Calum’s chest, collapsing with an adorable whoomph, nose brushing up against Calum’s chin. It’s too cute for words, the pair of them. Michael feels his heart clench inexplicably, and looks away.

“Jealous,” Calum sing-songs. “Go on, start the episode, what’re you waiting for?”

“I don’t think you’ll be able to watch with Duke sitting on top of you.”

Calum makes a dismissive noise. “I’ll be fine.”

And he is fine, right up until he falls asleep about fifteen minutes in. Michael notices straightaway, and wonders when exactly he got so attuned to Calum that he can tell in an instant if he’s awake or asleep. Sure enough, glancing down, Calum is exhaling gently, steadily enough that he’s obviously dropped off. Duke is dozing on Calum’s chest. Once again, Michael’s heart does that squeezing thing that leaves Michael vaguely confused. It’s just Calum. It’s always just Calum; what’s happening now that never used to happen before?

For a moment, Michael entertains the idea of just sitting here forever. It’s a tempting option. Michael’s hand has stalled in Calum’s hair but it still rests there, fingertips grazing the nape of his neck, and Calum’s chest is rising and falling rhythmically, raising and lowering Duke with it. The scene is endearing, charming beyond explanation, the kind of thing that makes Michael wish you could frame moving pictures like they do in Harry Potter, just to watch this moment for the rest of his life. He’d put it up in his bedroom, and look at it whenever he was in need of some sense of peace. 

If Calum is asleep, though, it must mean he’s tired, and they should probably go to bed if that’s the case. Michael gives himself another long moment to just watch his best friend sleep, face restful and all creases smoothed. He clicks off the TV.

“Cal,” he whispers.

There’s no response.

“Calum,” Michael repeats softly, scratching his fingernails over Calum’s scalp. “Calum, babe.”

Calum hums and his eyes open groggily. He lifts an arm to rub a hand over his face, and Duke jerks awake. “Hmm,” Calum manages, staring up into Michael’s face with a vaguely blank look. “Oh. Fuck. Sorry.”

“No, it’s fine,” Michael says. “Bedtime, though. I’m kind of tired anyway.”

Calum grabs Duke in his hands and then, with an almighty groan, heaves himself into a sitting position, gently lowering Duke to the ground. Duke leaves the room, possibly to go and harass Moose and South into letting him sleep with them. Michael sees a lot of Calum in Duke.

For a second Calum just sits, elbows braced against his knees, face in his hands. Michael furrows his brow. “You feeling okay?”

Calum breathes out. “Yeah, yeah. Just — more tired than usual, I guess.”

“Sleep in tomorrow,” Michael offers. “Lazy day. I love lazy days.”

“Mike, all your days are lazy days.”

“Fuck you, firstly, and secondly, none of my days are lazy days with you.” Michael pokes at Calum’s shoulder. “Which is obviously completely different, because it means we can cuddle all day, or do whatever. And get takeout! Come on, Cal, lazy day, lazy day, pajama day, lazy day —”

“Okay, okay,” Calum relents. “Yes, fine. Fine.” Michael grins and wraps Calum in a hug from the side, and Calum shakes his head, although Michael knows him well enough to know it’s fond exasperation at worst.

“Lazy day,” Michael sings lightly. Calum huffs a laugh. “Let’s go to bed.”

They go, and Michael’s heart does that squeezing-clenching thing again when Calum burrows into Michael’s chest once they’ve gotten under the duvet. He seems to be tipsy off tiredness, but it’s not anything Michael hasn’t seen before, and he doesn’t know why he’s reacting differently all of a sudden.

Must be the tiredness getting to me too, he thinks dismissively, pretending not to think about the fact that he’s no more tired than usual and he’s been tired before, without weird thoughts about Calum cramming their way into his mind. Best to sleep it off.

(Part of him doesn’t want to sleep it off, though. It’s a lovely fantasy, thinking he and Calum might be something more — not that he wants that, necessarily, but if he were going to want it, he doesn’t think it would be so bad. In the safety of his own mind, in fleeting thoughts, it’s nice to think about. Calum’s Calum, after all. It makes sense that eventually even Michael would start to think things. Just as long as he knows they’re all far-fetched things that are far too delusional to ever be anything but silly, sleepy, inexplicable ideas.)

“G’night,” Calum murmurs, sending a buzz from his words across Michael’s skin. Michael shivers, and hopes Calum doesn’t pick up on it.

“Sleep well,” Michael says quietly, lips brushing Calum’s hair. “And if you get up before ten, I’ll spread rumours about you on Twitter.”

Calum barely breathes out a giggle before he sighs and falls asleep. Michael doesn’t see the point in being awake without Calum, and without ceremony falls asleep as well, warm from Calum’s body lined up against his own.

-

Despite Michael’s threat, he still wakes up to an empty bed, covers thrown back where Calum must have gotten out. Of course he has. Michael starts brainstorming vaguely irritating rumour ideas to put on Twitter.

It’s eleven, though, which means that technically Calum could have woken up after ten but before Michael. Either way, Michael’s waking up alone again, and that’s annoying.

He shuffles out of bed, pulling on Calum’s Youngblood hoodie as he pads into the kitchen, where, predictably, Calum is making breakfast. Michael wraps his arms around Calum’s waist and hooks his chin over Calum’s shoulder. Calum jerks at the touch before apparently realizing who it is, and settling backwards into it.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty,” Calum greets him, turning his head to give Michael a kiss on his temple. It strikes Michael as a strangely romantic thing to do, which isn’t a thought he needs to be having. “I promise I wasn’t up before ten.”

“Hmph,” Michael grumbles, which is morning-Michael-speak for come back to bed, but Calum either doesn’t understand or chooses to ignore it. Eyeing the griddle on the stove, he adds, “Pancakes?” 

Calum nods. “See, when you wake up early, this is the kind of thing you have time for.”

“Worst lazy day partner ever,” Michael sniffs. “I want to cuddle.”

“What if we eat breakfast and then cuddle?”

“What if you come back to bed and then we eat pancakes when we wake up?”

Calum chuckles. “I don’t know how you’re tired right now. It’s eleven.”

“I don’t know how you’re not,” Michael says, horrified. “It’s eleven.”

Calum just laughs. “I love you,” he says, apropos of nothing, and Michael’s heart does a triple backflip.

“I know,” he says. “If this is a ploy to get me to forgive you for getting me out of bed at eleven in the morning, it’s not working.”

“It’s not a ploy,” Calum says. “But it is working.”

It is working. Just for saying that, though, Michael stubbornly wishes it weren’t, but it’s too late; Calum’s already softened his defenses, thawed his prickly morning mood. “Fuck you,” he mumbles. Calum makes another half-laugh noise and even though Michael’s not looking at his face, he can tell — he can almost feel — the way Calum’s eyes crinkle with his smile. 

“You can grab the syrup from the fridge,” he tells Michael. Michael hugs Calum tighter and buries his face in Calum’s neck.

“No,” he says, voice muffled in Calum’s skin. “Shut up.”

“You can’t cuddle me while I’m making pancakes, Mikey.”

“Fucking watch me.”

“Mike.”

“Shh, napping,” Michael mumbles, closing his eyes. He can feel Calum’s racing heartbeat pulsing in his neck, against Michael’s cheek, and distantly wonders why it’s racing. Calum relents, thankfully, and for a moment they just stand there, in the peaceful quiet of the kitchen, Michael’s hands loosely curled into Calum’s shirt. They fit so well it’s almost criminal. “This is perfect,” he sighs, breath hot against his own face where it bounces off Calum’s skin.

Calum settles a hand on Michael’s. “What is?”

Michael hums. “This,” he says again, although he knows that’s mostly meaningless, and it could mean anything. “You. You being here. Just this.”

It’s still kind of nonsensical, but Calum seems to understand anyway. It’s what they do best, understanding each other when nobody else can, when nobody else would bother trying. “I missed you more than I think it’s normal to miss someone,” Calum says quietly. To an outsider listening in, it would sound like a change of subject, but Michael knows it isn’t. It’s perfect to me, too, Calum is saying. It wasn’t any good before. The words hover before them, almost like giving Michael the option to ignore them. 

Michael had known that, of course. Michael had also missed Calum more than it’s normal to miss someone. He’d kind of just figured that was how they operated. Calum is saying it like it should be news, like it should mean something monumental, but it’s all the same to Michael. He missed Calum more than a normal person ought to, but not more than Calum deserves. It’s Calum.

“Your heartbeat’s really fast,” Michael murmurs, also a surface change of subject, trying to say so many things, like I missed you too, an insane amount, and is this new for you, too, or just for me? and have I never noticed that your heart pounds when I hug you, or has it just never before? and it’s okay with me, whatever the answer is. He’s almost afraid to pick his head up, scared that he’s going to see the look on Calum’s face and not like it, scared that it’s going to be what he wants it to be. Scared that something is going to change, but almost more afraid that nothing will.

Calum breathes a laugh. “Of course you would notice that.”

“My face is on your neck,” Michael says. “How could I not notice.”

“I meant it,” Calum says, which Michael had also known, and he knows what Calum means, too; not just that he’d meant what he said, but also what he hadn’t, the unspoken this that Michael had been talking about in the first place.

“So did I,” Michael says, meaning that he meant everything he didn’t say, and he wonders if Calum had understood it, but it’s Calum, and they’re them, so of course Calum has understood it.  He picks his head up off Calum’s shoulder and Calum twists himself around in Michael’s arms, hands fluttering over Michael’s shoulders before landing. Michael is tempted to point out that he probably shouldn’t turn his back on an open flame, and he probably would if he didn’t think it would ruin the moment. They’re definitely in a moment right now, which should probably be weird, but it isn’t. This should feel weird, but it doesn’t, because it’s Calum.

Michael wonders how many exceptions he’s made in his life for Calum, and how many more he’ll make at the drop of a hat. There’s the world, and then there’s Calum, and the rules stop applying somewhere in transit.

Calum rests his forehead against Michael’s. “I thought that maybe it was just me.”

“How could it be just you?” Michael says softly. His own heartbeat is thudding in his chest. “If it’s you, then it’s me. That’s always been true.”

“This is different,” Calum says, except it’s not. “You changed your mind. Recently.”

Michael blinks. “How do you know that?”

“I just,” Calum shrugs, helplessly. “I don’t know. I could just tell. I can tell.”

“I didn’t change my mind,” Michael says, because he doesn’t know what to say to everything else Calum’s just revealed. Like that Calum must have known before Michael knew. And that Calum must have been waiting for Michael to screw his fucking head on right. And that Calum had noticed, the moment it happened. “I just realized, you idiot. You should have fucking told me.”

“This is my fault? ”

“You knew!”

“I thought it was just me,” Calum repeats. 

“Well that was a stupid fucking assumption to make,” Michael tells him. “You were waiting for me to realize.”

“I wasn’t waiting, I was just…” Calum frowns. “Hoping.”

Michael rolls his eyes. “Well, I’m here now,” he says. “I’m all caught up.” They’re dancing around it, he notices, because Michael is just finding his footing and Calum is probably waiting for Michael to say psych!, and neither of them wants to say it. Once they say it, it’s a fact.

It’s a fact already, though. It’s been a part of the MichaelandCalum history since they met, and they’ve both just been idiots about it, basically.

Calum’s eyes crinkle as the ghost of a smile starts to lift at the corners of his lips, and before Michael can even begin to wax poetic about it, they’re kissing. It makes so much sense to be kissing that Michael doesn’t even think, for a moment, that it’s strange. It just feels nice, and feels right, and Calum’s mouth is warm and tastes like chocolate, inexplicably.

Calum exhales sharply when they part. “Fucking finally,” he says, breath hot on Michael’s lips.

“You could have told me we’re in love,” Michael says. “I wish I’d fucking known.”

“Don’t blame this on me. You could have opened your fucking eyes.”

“Pancakes,” Michael remembers. “You’re making pancakes. You should make them.”

“I think, maybe,” Calum says, and then nothing else, just catches Michael in another kiss, sweet like the last, familiar like everything to do with Calum, one of Calum’s hands curling steadily around the back of Michael’s neck. Michael doubts if he’s ever felt more at home than he does right now.

“Okay,” Michael says hoarsely against Calum’s mouth. “More of that. Pancakes later.”

Calum grins. The pancakes sit on the island until they’re cold, vapor dissolving into the cool kitchen air. The world spins on. Life is wonderful.

[mypersonmyg]

Reader keeping secrets from ________ Reader leading a double life a an underground artist and ________ has no idea but is a fan? Sorry that’s all I can come up with on short notice lol Hope you have fun writing whatever you work on! 😀

Pairing: Taehyung x tagger!reader

WC: 1.7k

Genre: artist au

Rating: pg

Warnings: None. 

A/N: I may do a part 2 if you want. Idk, I’m just tired.

“Did you see?” You glance up  from your laptop as Taehyung walks through the front door, eyes glued to his phone. When you don’t respond he looks up expectantly and you shrug your shoulders with a tilt of the head. “Purple Panda tagged last night and it’s all over my feed.”

“Oh, cool.” You glance back down at your laptop, never interested in having lengthy conversations with your boyfriend about his favorite local artist and their hidden identity. “I’m kinda feeling pizza tonight, are you in?”

“Did you hear what I said?” He takes a seat on the arm of the couch and presses a kiss against the crown of your head. You hum continuing to type against your keyboard without pretense.

“Yeah, artist, tag, social feed. I don’t know why you’re so obsessed with this person,” You lower your screen and angle yourself toward him. “Sure they’re amazing at what they do, but what they do is also pretty illegal.”

Taehyung pulls his lip into a contemplative pout, his hands coming to massage your shoulders, the feeling relieving the tension that had taken over your muscles. The two of you sit in comfortable silence, the sound of Yeontan’s feet patter occasionally across the floor. 

“Why don’t you like them?” You’re caught off guard by the sudden question, never having said anything about your personal feelings. 

“What do you mean? I never said that.”

“True, but you’re always telling me that I shouldn’t invest so much time in this and you can’t help but to constantly point out the lack of legality in their work.” You huff, pushing yourself from the confines of the couch cushions and onto your feet. Taehyung is hot on your trail as you head to the kitchen, grabbing your keys from the counter.

“I don’t hate them, I just don’t think you should invest so much time in trying to discover a person who doesn’t want to be discovered. They have a pseudonym for a reason and that reason is not for you to try to expose their true identity.” It had become a sort of hobby for Taehyung to try and crack the code of Purple Panda. He enjoyed their art so much that he figured finding them would be next best to actually creating the pieces himself. 

He followed every lead that filled his social feeds and he even roped Namjoon and Jimin into the whole ordeal. You on the other hand were content with knowing nothing of this person aside from what they paint on buildings. You’ve tried and failed to get Taehyung to let go of this idea that he could find the elusive artist, but he just poked fun at you for being jealous or asked questions like this one.

“I’m going to go and grab us some pizza, why don’t you watch a movie or something, hmm?” You pat Taehyung’s arm and peck his cheek, your purse being thrown over one shoulder. 

“Yeah, sure.” He stuffs his hands into his pockets and watches you walk out of the house, the door clicking shut behind you. He walks to the front, pacing back and forth near the window to allow himself to watch you pull out of the drive. When he’s sure that you won’t be pulling back in he makes a beeline to the hall closet, Yeontan hot on his trail. “I think I know why she hates Purple Panda so much, Tannie.”

The dog yaps, jumping around Taehyung as he bends to the ground pulling at a box that’s stuffed deep in the junk filled closet. Yeontan nips at his pant legs, like he’s trying to stop Taehyung from completing his task, but Taehyung simply scoops the dog up and cuddles him to his chest. He manages to wrestle the box out with his one free hand and he places Yeontan back into the hall where the dog trots away indignantly.

Taehyung had grown increasingly suspicious of your behavior in the past few weeks and had taken to keeping a close eye on you. His first avenue was to assume the worst, the odd hours in which you’d claim to have errands or plans with friends not making the choice difficult. It was Namjoon’s comforting voice of reason that had talked him down from that ledge and since then he’s been grasping at anything to connect your behavior. 

The latest in his growing suspicions is the way in which you disregard his excitement for his most recent favorite artist. Purple Panda is a tagger, an expert in Taehyung’s opinion, and has been running throughout the city making their mark for the better part of a year now. The first time he’d come to you with full cheeks and his phone resting in his palm you’d been just as excited as him. The new artist becoming a popular topic of discussion between the two of you. 

That had all changed after the first month, when Taehyung had decided that he wanted to meet this infamous tagger no matter what it took. It was a usual night, the two of you cuddled up in bed when he’d shared his plans with you. The way you had stiffened beneath him should’ve been his first clue that something was wrong, but he’d thought nothing of it, the chill that often filled the room a logical enough explanation. 

Now, he had taken notice of your hasty subject changes and how you avoided fully answering any questions he had pertaining to the Purple Panda. In fact, it seemed that the more he dug in the more annoyed you got with him. You weren’t snapping, but there was definitely a slight edge to your voice when you would issue him a response. 

Taehyung had again expressed his beliefs with Namjoon who told him that the best way to find out the truth would be for him to confront you directly. That was when Jimin had opted to butt into the conversation and tell Taehyung that was the worst idea.

“She’s not just gonna come and tell you flat out. You have to be smarter than her, do a little sleuthing and wait until you have proof.” This idea sounded much more appealing to Taehyung, perhaps because it allowed him to put his detective skills to the test though he would never admit the underlying excitement. So he’d taken to paying extra close attention to you when you left and when you came home. The way you reacted to different questions and conversations.

When he’d spoken to you today he noted a twitch in your nose, a tell-tale sign that you were keeping something from him. Over the past weeks he had picked up on your routine. You would come into the house and sometimes immediately open the closet door before coming to greet him and oftentimes open it again before you left. One of these times he stepped into the closet and looked for any sign that you’d disrupted one of the multitudes of storage boxes piled into the tiny space.

He’d spotted a box slightly protruding from the back and pulled it out immediately to find that there was nothing inside save for an old dirty rag. He figured that whatever you were taking whenever you left the house must be kept in that box. If he was as good a detective as he liked to believe he guessed that the box would be filled with spray paint. He intended to sneak out of bed tonight to see if his assumptions were true, but your sudden decision to leave the house gave him a window of opportunity. So here he sits, the box before him, filled with what he hopes is the answer to his mystery. The box is much heavier than the first time he’d come across it which he found a good sign.

“Here goes,” He says to no one in particular, his hand coming to lift the cardboard flap that hid the contents from view. His eyes had involuntarily, his nerves getting the best of him. If what he finds isn’t what he’s expecting he isn’t sure what it could be or how he’ll react.

He takes a deep breath and peers into the box. 

“Gotcha,” He smiles from ear to ear, half used spray paint cans stuffed into a worn duffle greeting him. He lifts one of the cans, a purple one adorning the name of your chosen pseudonym and he smiles at his excellent deductive reasoning. 

When the shock and triumph wears off  he begins to wonder why you would hide something from him. But more importantly how you got into tagging in the first place. You’d told him plenty of times that there were many dangers that came from this form of expression and he can’t imagine a reason why you would put yourself in danger of getting caught. 

He slumps against the wall, tossing a can back and forth between his hands while he thinks. His head snaps toward the front door when he hears you struggling on the other side, the ruffling of your purse and the mumbled obscenities almost bringing a smile to his face. He glances between the door and the paint, contemplating his next move.

Confront or let it go?

He wants nothing more than to confront you, make you tell him why you’d kept it a secret from him, but he’s also certain that there had to be a logical reason and he doesn’t want to pressure you. Just as you’re sliding your key into the door he makes the decision to stuff the paint back into the box and the box back into the closet. 

“Hey, the line was so short today. Lucky us!” You hold the pizza you’d purchased out and he takes the box with a smile. “What have you been up to?”

“Nothing, just trying to find out more about Purple Panda.” He watches you visibly flinch, covering it with a smile as you lead him to the kitchen. “I was kind of thinking you’re right though.”

“Yeah? About what?” 

“If they want to be discovered then they’ll do it in their own time.” 

“I’m glad to hear it.” You send him a smile and slide the pizza onto the table. Taehyung slides into his chair and grabs your hand placing a gentle kiss against your knuckles. 

“And I will wait forever if that’s what it takes.”

[mickmarstookmyheart]

Skylar

Summary: What can I say? Prepare tissues.

A new era for Mötley Crüe. A new era for Vince Neil. At least every cloud has a silver lining. Maybe he lost the Crüe, but he had Neil, Elizabeth, and little Skylar. A couple of years had passed since he left the Crüe and hardly anyone called him or asked about his whereabouts. Except you. You had a conversation almost every other week, also met once or twice a month. It was good to hear about him and his children. You tried to convince him about to come back but he refused. Although, once you almost managed to, but the boys already found another singer.

"What are you doing today, babe?" Mick asked while packing his stuff in the bedroom. They started to do the new album and they will most likely spend one or two days there.

"Do the shopping then maybe meet Heather and have a girl night." You shrugged. You exactly where you will go, you just still didn't want to tell him. He didn't need to know yet.

"Sounds good. Give my regards to her." He stepped in front of you, placed his hands on your hips, and pulled closer to him.

"Promise me that you will rest, alright?" You asked him looking him in the eye.

"I promise." He pecked your lips and pulled you in a big hug. You smelled in his scent from his hair. "Are you sure you don't want to come? I'm sure they won't mind."

"Yeah. I have some other things to do but I will drop in, okay?"

"Okay." He gave you a last kiss and headed towards the car. You waited by the window until he left and you couldn't see the car, then you picked up the car keys and sat in your car. You had butterflies in your stomach from the excitement and about the whole situation. You gripped the wheel strongly and took a deep breath.

After you got to the hospital, cause that's where you needed to be, you parked the car and walked to the reception. You asked where is the doctor and nervously stepped in the elevator. When you left the lift you saw Sharise in the corridor, she had her face covered with her hands. You rushed to her and kneel in front of her.

"Sharise, hey what is it?" You placed your hand on her knees and squeezed it.

"(Y/N)? What are you doing here?" She sniffed. She wiped away her tears still she was shaking like a leaf.

"Doesn't matter. What happened?" You didn't talk with her, to be honest, you hadn't spoken to her since 1991 but it was heartbreaking to see her like this. "Sharise, you need to tell me! Is it about Vince? Or the children?" She didn't look at you just continued whimpering. You sighed. "Please, just tell me."

"It's... it's about Skylar." She finally spoke up. You felt your heart racing that something really bad happened to your niece.

"What happened to her?" You asked her nervously. You adored that little girl and would do anything to save that angel.

"She had a stomachache recently, but I thought she had a flue or something." She sobbed. "Then it got worse and..and she has cancer." Tears flooded down her cheek, you sat beside her and hugged her tightly. You couldn't say a word. There was a knot in your throat which made even breathing hard. She snuggled in the crook of your neck and let out everything. "It's my fault. If I didn't do those thing she might have..."

"Sharise, stop. Don't blame yourself. It could've happened to anyone. Stop degrading yourself." You hushed. You stroke your fingers in her hair to calm her which she accepted gladly. You gulped. When you set off from home you thought it would be a happy day with great news. But hearing this, you thought maybe having a child isn't the best idea after all. You were scared. This could happen to your still unborn child, too.

After she calmed down you left her there a bit to cancel your appointment at the doctor's and help Sharise in everything. Your baby could wait.

"Does Vince know?" You asked her.

"No, I haven't told him yet. I just got the news when you arrived." She said cleaning her face with a tissue.

"You want me to call him? Or get him by car?" You offered with a sad smile. She didn't say anything just nodded gratefully. You sighed and got up, looking for a phone. You dialed his number and waited. Waited and waited. After a few minutes, you tried again when he finally picked it up.

"Yap?"

"Vince, it's me, (Y/N)." You said.

"Hey, what's up?" You were sure he was smirking on the other side. But it was no time for that.

"Where are you?" You asked seriously.

"Umm, at home I guess. What is it? Did something happen?" You hesitated. "(Y/N), I can hear from your voice."

"It's about Skylar. I will go pick you up, a few minutes, and I will be there." With that, you hung up and ran down to your car. You didn't want Vince to drive in his state. You were devastated, too, but it was harder for him. You drove at a quite high speed to got there as soon as possible. Vince was already walking in front of his house kicking into some stones.

"Hey." You greeted him while he sat in the front seat beside you.

"(Y/N), what happened to her?" He asked angrily. You bit down your lip and told him everything you knew.

∆

It seemed ages until you waited there. You and Sharise were sitting on the seats whereas the singer was walking around restless.

"Why they don't let me see her?" He ranted.

"Vinnie, calm down. We want to see her just as bad as you." You tried your best to sound calm. At the same moment, the door opened and the nurse and the doctor exited the room.

"When can I go in?" He asked the doctor.

"In a couple of minutes, sir, don't worry."

"Don't worry? Are you serious? My daughter has cancer! How I supposed to not worry?" He cried.

"I'm sorry. Who is the mother?" He turned to you and Sharise. Sharise stood up. "Miss, can I ask a few questions?"

"Sure." She said rubbing her plan in her pants.

"Until then, you and he can visit Skylar." He said gesturing at Vince.

"Thank you, doc. Vince, come!" You called for him and cautiously opened the door.

"Well hello, Skylar baby." You greeted her. Your heart broke seeing like this. She was pale and was so many machines beside her bed you couldn't even see her properly. You felt tears running down your cheeks but kept the bright smile on your face.

"Auntie? Why are you here?" She asked happily. So she felt better than looking. Good to hear that.

"To see you, darling. I missed you." You walked over to her and placed a soft kiss on her forehead.

∆

Mick was sitting on the couch and was dealing with his guitar. They announced an hour break finally so he could rest as promised. It was almost night and you haven't made an appearance yet. Maybe this girl night was happening and you had a great time. He was glad that you were happy with friends, at least you were happy. Sure he liked you, you were the reason he was alive. You were the only hope in his life, but he felt guilty for having you. You were such a great and beautiful woman he couldn't believe you liked him.

When they finished a couple of songs, and John wanted to go home, Mick also felt the urge to see you and to have a rest. When he said goodbye to Tommy and Nikki he stepped in the street and approached his car. He stopped when he saw your car there, too. He narrowed his eyebrows and looked in the car. He saw you sitting there, your forehead on the wheel. His heart skipped a beat.

"(Y/N), hey, what are you doing here? It's freezing in here." You lift your head when you heard the noise. He placed his hand on your hand then your back.

"I'm sorry." You sniffed. You hated to cry in front of him. Or just anyone else. "I thought I would wait here, I didn't want to interrupt anything."

"You never bother us, you know that. Oh, come here." He pulled you close and placed a kiss on the top of your head. "Were you crying?"

"No, just somebody spit in my eyes."

"(Y/N)!"

"Of course I was crying, damn."

"Did you watch a romantic movie with Heather or what?" He tried to cheer you up. He hated seeing you cry or just sad.

"Yes. It was a heartbreaking movie. The sad thing that it was based on a true story. And I wouldn't necessarily say it was a romantic movie. More like drama." He looked at you questioning. He didn't think it was this serious. You know he wanted to know but he didn't want to upset you again.

"So I was in the hospital and I was..."

"What were you doing, there? Are you sick." He asked with wide eyes.

"No. And that's the least important thing now. So when I was there I saw Sharise. And she told me that...that Skylar is sick. She has a tumor in her belly." You sniffed. You looked down and played with your soaking wet tissue. "So I want my compensation and money back. I hated this movie."

"Goddamn. I'm so sorry. If I had known I would visit you there."

"You didn't know. And things happened so fast I couldn't even think about anything else just when Skylar went to sleep and the doctor told me to leave the building. And then I came here."

"Then let's go home. Or if you want, we can break into the hospital to see Skylar." He joked.

"No, I think it has been quite an exciting day already." You smiled taking his hand.

"Then let's go home."

∆

Nightmares after nightmares. Well, even if you managed to sleep. You were constantly rolling in the bed and couldn't get Skylar out of your head. Poor little thing. You put your hand on your belly and sat up so you were sitting on the edge of the bed. When you felt the urge to vomit you quickly rushed to the restroom.

"Are you okay?" Mick asked sleepily when you got back to bed. Maybe it was the time to tell him. Surely not the best time but you needed to tell him. It was his right to know.

"No. I mean yes but I think it's normal in my condition." You smiled. Mick raised his eyebrows understanding the situation.

"Are you pregnant?" He asked happily. You nodded and Mick cupped your face and place a kiss on your lips. "We are gonna have a baby." He whispered placing his hand on your still flat stomach.

"That's why I was in the hospital. I wanted to be sure that everything is alright." You leaned your head on his shoulder and put your hands on his. "But I would like to remain this a secret, okay? Not because I'm not happy about it, just I want everyone's attention on Skylar right now. I don't want to be a distraction."

"Sure, good idea. But I'm not sure how long I can hide my happiness. Those bastards will notice it."

"Then be strong and put your usual grumpy face on, please. Do that for me."

"I will try." He said with the biggest smile on his face you have ever seen.

∆

Weeks passed and it was harder and harder to hide Mick's face and also your belly from the others. You visited your niece every day now, and you always found either Sharise or Vince there with her.

"Good morning, monkey." You said while you stepped into the room. To your surprise, only Vince stood in the room by the window. "Oh, I thought Skylar was here, too." You closed the door and put your coat on the hanger. You stood beside him and handed him a cup of coffee.

"Thanks." He looked at you gratefully. He took a sip from his coffee and then he quickly looked back at you. "You need to eat more salad and quit eating that much, (Y/N). You put on some weights."

"Look who is talking. You know if you have to eat instead of two you will have a big belly." He still didn't get it.

"Mick is not eating or what?" You sighed and rubbed your belly. "Holy shit. Are you with child?" He finally understood it.

"Yeah. But don't get too excited. We need to focus on your daughter right now." You said. "Anyway, how Elizabeth and Neil accepted it? Or do they know?"

"They do know but they are still children. They don't feel the weight of it."

"Are you sure?" He was insecure about it. He felt terrible for not visiting his children, but he needed to be here.

"Speaking of, did you tell the boys yet?" He asked gripping the cup in his hand.

"No, only Mick. But he won't tell them, his mind is a bit occupied now with the album and...about her." You rubbed your belly.

"Is it a girl?" He asked smirking. Finally, a smile which you didn't see in a while. You nodded smiling. "Congratulations, (Y/N)."

"Thanks." After a few minutes, some nurses brought Skylar in. She was still sleeping from the operation so you sat down beside her. When Vince noticed you fell asleep he put a blanket on you and sat back to his chair waiting for her daughter to wake up.

∆

"Are you going to see Skylar?" Mick asked when he helped you tie your shoelaces.

"Yeah, you coming?"

"Yes. I want to see my niece and maybe have a talk with Vince. He is getting worse but I'm trying to beside him, even if we don't play together. He needs someone to rely on."

"You are great. How do I even deserve you?" You cupped his face and pecked him on the lips.

"I can ask the same." He said rubbing your big belly. "Are you ready young lady?" He asked your daughter while gently pressing his ear on your stomach. "I think she is ready. She kicked my face so that supposed to be a yes." You hummed feeling your little warrior having a dance party in you.

∆

"Hey, Vinnie, we are here." Mick opened the door for you and you stepped in. Your heart broke when you saw Skylar crying along with Vince. You tightened your jaw and tried to smile, but you failed. "Hello, Skylar. How are we feeling today?" You took the girl's little hand in yours, sniffing.

"Bad. My tummy hurts. Can you stop it, please?" You closed your eyes and took a deep breath.

"I'm sorry, honey. But these doctors are here to heal you. They learned much better at school so they can help you, darling."

"Did they always do the homework?" She asked. A slight smile appeared on her chubby face. She looked horrible. She had as dark circles under her eyes as Mick's hair yet she was pale as a vampire. Her hands were cold but that shine in her eyes was still there.

"Yeah, they did. Unlike me. I was quite a lazy one." You smiled.

"Still are," Mick said with a smirk on his lips.

"Thanks. Vinnie, you can go if you want, we will be here with her." You told the singer who calmed down a bit. He cleared his throat and turned to Mick.

"Can we talk?" He asked Mick who looked surprised but nodded and left the room.

"Are you okay?" Mick asked rubbing the singer's back while sitting in the corridor.

"She told me that...she told me not to let to cut her again. She begged me, Mick. I..I can't do this anymore. I can't hold her down anymore while the doctors make her sleep. I just can't." He said placing his hands on his face. Mick sighed and he was proud of Vince. He respected him in every way. He was beside his daughter no matter what.

"I'm here for you, Vince. I know that things happened and I can't undo them, but you can always rely on me, also (Y/N). And I'm sure Tommy and Nikki feel the same even if they don't know about Skylar."

"Thank you, Mick. I can't believe you willingly help me. So you didn't tell them?"

"No. I didn't know if you want to tell them. So I didn't say a word."

"I think it's the best," Vince said while glancing at his ex-bandmate.

∆

15 August 1995

She is gone. Skylar's system gave up in the morning after months of fighting. She was laying in the bed, her little face finally in a calm position. She looked like if she was just sleeping. But you knew she wasn't. She will never wake up.

Mick held by your waist while you took Vince's hand and held it strongly. On the other side of the bed, Sharise and her family were watching the little body with sadness. Tears flooded down your cheek and you felt a knot in your throat. You couldn't say a word. Just stood there supporting each other.

After Sharise left the room and you felt dizzy a bit you asked Vince if he needs anything but he just shrugged. You didn't want to leave him there but you weren't really well. Your head was pounding and was truly exhausted.

"Are you sure you don't want a doctor to see you?" Mick asked still near the hospital.

"Yeah, just tired. Today just took all my energy away, don't worry." You told him sadly.

∆

A week after Skylar's funeral, you were already in the hospital. Your little girl was eager to come to this world.

"How is she?" Nikki yelled running in the corridor when he heard that you got there.

"I don't know, bassist! How do I need to know?" Mick snapped pulling his hair from the stress. He couldn't be there with you.

"Alright, chill," Nikki said while taking a seat next to Tommy, Heather, and Doc.

"Don't worry, Mick. I'm sure she is okay." Doc said with an encouraging smile.

All of them turned to the door when a nurse exited the room.

"Mr. Mars you can come in." She said happily.

"And we?" Tommy asked.

"You need to stay here for a bit."

"That's so unfair." Tommy pouted and crossed his arms.

Mick relieved when he saw you with your daughter in your arms. He approached the bed and placed a kiss on your sweaty forehead.

"Hey, darling. You are so beautiful." Mick whispered to your newborn baby.

"Indeed she is."

After a few minutes, they took your daughter to clean up.

"Hey, (Y/N)," Nikki said grinning.

"Omg, she looks so cute," Heather said admiring your daughter.

"And what's her name?" Tommy asked curiously.

"Everyone, come and greet, Hanna Skylar Mars." You announced.

Tags: @leatherandheels

[chuckbass-love]

Why Him? | Ransom Drysdale | Part 19

A/N: 3 PARTS LEFT!!!  Last minute i changed up this chapter and completely deleted chapter 20 and re wrote it. It was just to improve the chapters and make them better. So i hope you enjoy

Disclaimer: My work is not to be reposted anywhere else other than my Tumblr, Wattpad and Ao3. However, reblogs are welcome.

Why Him? MASTERLIST

Warning: i guess some angst

Claudia’s POV

I sit up in bed, immediately noticing that Ransom isn’t in sight. I decide to head downstairs to see where he is and as i reach the bottom of the stairs, i turn around to see him on the couch, watching TV. 

“Good morning” i chirp as i strut over “Oh...morning” he mumbles. 

Is he still upset with me? I sit down next to him.

“Is everything okay?” he shrugs. “Yeah i’m fine” something is clearly up but i decide to wave it off for now.

“So how about this, i cook for us later, nice romantic dinner for two” i turn his head to face me and he flashes me a smile, not a very convincing one though. 

“Babe” why isn’t he responding? 

“Sounds great but i got a text from the guys, i forgot that i made plans to have a couple of beers with them tonight. Mind if i head out later? I won’t be long i promise. An hour tops” i look down at my hands, 

“Sure, just don’t be late. 7:30pm on the dot. Not a minute later Drysdale” he chuckles, pecking my lips quickly. 

“Jack is making breakfast, you hungry?” i nod and he holds his hands out to help me off the couch. 

I follow him into the kitchen. “Morning Jack” i greet and he replies with the same amount of enthusiasm. We eat breakfast and i let Jack know that he can go home early as i’ll be taking care of dinner, he nods before exiting to let us eat. He takes his food to the other room. 

“So, are you on the menu tonight?” Ransom rests his hand on my thigh. “Babe” i roll my eyes. “Maybe” he winks at me as he places our dishes into the sink. 

“Good, because i’ve had a real hankering for you lately” is he trying to turn me on? We flirt a little and then head upstairs to shower and get ready for the day.

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

The day is spent watching movies, distracting Ransom whilst he’s in his office and eating. Like, constantly. 

“We really should take more pictures together?” i pick up the framed picture of us from our second date in New York.

“We should but for now i can just stare at you to remind myself of how sexy my girlfriend is” i sit down on his lap, my legs over his and the side of the chair, my arms wrapped around him.

“I meant more for memories. We’ve only got a couple of pictures. When i’m old and grey i want our grandkids to see all these pictures of us looking young and cool” he chuckles “grandkids huh?” i grin and rest my head in the crook of his neck. 

“Shit, it’s 5:00pm” he checks his phone, i get off his lap and he rushes to his feet. “I best get going now to meet the guys. Can you call me a cab babe?” he asks and i nod. Lifting my phone up to dial the number.

“Right, you get cooking, i’ll be home at exactly 7:30pm doll. I love you” he kisses me and i wave him off.

----------

Right, time to cook. I grab an apron and look around the kitchen to see what food is available to me. There’s pasta, steak, potatoes and salad. I’ll do steak with salad and potatoes then. Not that i have much choice but luckily i love steak.

I place both steaks in the pan, on a medium heat as i start to boil the potatoes and prepare the salad. With the salad done almost instantly, i focus on the potatoes and steak. Medium-rare i have it so i do the same for him. I check the time as i start to prepare the food onto two dishes. It’s 7:30, he’ll be here, i know he will.

10 minutes later, still no sign.

40 minutes later, nothing.

----------

2 and a half hours later, no texts, no calls. I heat my food up and add some salad to the dish and i dig in. He’s clearly not going to show, might as well eat this food. 

Once i finish up i click on his contact in my phone, pressing the call icon. Straight to voicemail. Where the hell is he?

I stand up and get a container to place his food into. I store it in the refrigerator. He can just have it when he decides to come home. Whenever that will be. I take my wine glass and phone and head into his office, sitting at his desk. 

I start to call him again, voicemail. I look up and see the framed picture of the two of us, instantly smiling as i remember the date we were on but a frown soon replaces it. I can’t believe he stood me up. He promised he wouldn’t be late.

I rest my head on my arms on the desk and i drift off into a short slumber. 

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

*ONE HOUR LATER*

I wake up, instantly checking my phone to see the time. It’s now 11:20pm. 

There’s a text from Ransom. Sent 1 minute ago. 

‘I’m waiting for you upstairs baby’ of course, he stands me up and instead of coming to find me to apologise, he thinks with his dick. 

I stand up and head out, leaving my wine on the kitchen counter as i walk past to get to the stairs, ready to grill him. I rush up them and start my rant.

“I said 7:30, you didn’t even bother to call or text and now you want to have sex. I don’t get you Ran-” my jaw drops and my heart sinks. 

There he is, on our bed. His ex-girlfriend straddling him. She’s kissing him. What the hell is this? they both turn to see me in the doorway. I can tell he’s off his face drunk. I turn around, running down the stairs and he follows. 

“Claudia wait”

I storm into the kitchen to get my phone, shoving it into my bag. I find my coat draped over the couch, i pick it up and start putting it on as i make my way back over to where he’s stood.

“Doll, i’m sorry. Let me explain-” tears brim in my eyes and i can’t stop them from falling. 

“I don’t want to hear it. Do NOT call me that. I’m not your doll. This must be why you were off with me this morning”

“What are you talking about, let me explain”

“God i’m so dumb” i laugh to myself 

“I should’ve known you would mess up. You’re just a typical playboy, messing girls around for your own satisfaction. Just how i thought you would when i first met you. Do you get off on this huh? Hurting people. I don’t know what got into me, to believe i could trust you to change”

I shove past him, moving towards the front door. He grabs a hold of my wrist but i shake him off. I raise my hand and swipe it across his cheek, leaving a handprint, his face instantly turns red.

“Get the fuck off of me” i look him up and down 

“I guess this is what happens when you finally let your guard down. Whatever this was, it’s over”

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

Ransom’s POV

I sip my fourth beer of the night and check the time 6:30pm, plenty of time. 

“SHOTS” Eddie shouts and we all cheer, taking one in our hands and knocking them back on the count of 3. We do this a couple of times, causing my already tipsy state to turn fully drunk. 

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

I check the time again to see it’s 9:30pm, shit. i’m late.

“I need to get home” i lean into Jason, speaking into his ear so he can hear me.

“Nah you’re not going anywhere, it’s time for more drinks man” he hands me a vodka and coke and i down it like it’s nothing. I really need to go home but i can barely walk straight. Claudia isn’t gonna be impressed.

It’s 11:00pm, i finish my drink and take one last shot before i spot her, my ex. Natalie. 

“Hey stranger” she wraps her arms around my neck as she hugs me, i push her off. 

“What do you want?” i scoff and she frowns. “Excuse me, you could be a little nicer” i roll my eyes. “I’ll never be nice to you. You’re toxic as fuck” i shove past her, saying goodbye to the guys since i’m gonna head home. She follows me out of the club.

“Wait, let’s share a cab” she calls out and i sigh “fine but you can pay for yourself” she gets in next to me and starts yapping away.

“So, i noticed you have a new girlfriend” i nod my head “I gotta give it to you, you did well. She’s gorgeous. But she’ll never be me Ransom and you can kid yourself all you like” i face away from her.

“That’s kinda the whole point Nat. I don’t want another girl like you. She’s everything you could never be” i slur as i rock in my seat. I’m so drunk and i feel so sick.

The driver pulls up outside my place and i pay him as i get out. 

“You don’t miss me at all then? Not even a little” she leans her head out the window. 

“Not at all. Go home Natalie” i take my time, walking to the front door. I don’t want to fall over. I let myself in and head upstairs. 

“Claudia” i call out, no answer. “Baby” still no answer. I take my coat off and throw it onto the bed and when i turn around Natalie is stood in front of me. I must not have shut the front door properly. 

“Get the fuck off Nat” i spit, making my way to the bathroom. When i get out, she’s still here.

She pulls me onto the bed and she straddles me, i try to push her off but my drunk state doesn’t allow it.

“I said 7:30pm, you didn’t even bother to call or text and now you want to have sex? I don’t get you Ran-” I turn my head to see Claudia in the doorway. FUCK. 

“Claudia wait” i push Natalie off me and run after Claudia instantly.

She storms into the kitchen to get her phone, shoving it into her bag. She finds her coat draped over the couch and she picks it up, putting it on as she makes her way back over to me. 

“Doll, i’m sorry. Let me explain-” i see the tears brimming in her eyes and she lets them fall. 

“I don’t want to hear it. Do NOT call me that. I’m not your doll. This is why you were off with me earlier”

“What are you talking about let me explain”

“God i’m so dumb” she laughs to herself “I should’ve known you would mess up. You’re just a typical playboy, messing girls around for your own satisfaction. Just how i thought you would when i first met you. Do you get off on this huh? Hurting people. I don’t know what got into me, to believe i could trust you to change”

She shoves past me, moving towards the front door. I grab a hold of her but she shakes me off. 

She raises her hand, slapping me across the face. Leaving a mark. God that hurt. Everything i feared happening that would destroy our relationship, is happening. I knew i’d mess this up eventually.

“Get the fuck off of me” she looks me up and down, a look of pure disgust across her face. “I guess this is what happens when you finally let your guard down. Whatever this was, it’s over”

Shit. I may not be able to think straight but i for sure think this is what heartbreak feels like. My heart sinks as she walks out the door. My mind is telling me to go after her but my heart is telling me to let her go because in the end, she’s right, i hurt people and tonight i’ve hurt the most important person in my life.

[george-mackay-macfine]

Dear Diary Prt. 9

November 9th, 2011 

 Dear Diary

After yesterdays events I felt like today was super mundane, but it was nice… To wrap up what happened yesterday, Dean and Harry  came to pick me up from the library, Charlotte was long gone by this pint her mum had come to pick her up an hour or two before I’d called Harry , but we’d made plans for her to come over to the flat on Friday. I’m going to cook us dinner, we’re going to do some studying then maybe watch a movie… 

Talking to Charlotte had really changed my outlook on life, I won’t pretend I’m going to be the mother Theresa right away, but I really want to change the way I look at things. If someone like Charlotte can go through so much, and come out the other side still smiling then why can’t I? 

I’m going to try at least, 

Love Y/N, 

November 11th, 2011 

Dear Diary

Dinner went… Okay,

                      Eight hours ago

“So who is this chick?” Dean quizzed me as we walked through the supermarket looking for all the ingredients we needed to make nachos. “You’ve never mentioned her before,” 

“Yes I did,” 

“No, you didn’t,” He countered. 

“Yes. I. Did,”

“No. You. Did. Not,” Dean and I stood toe to toe, his jaw clenched and a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. 

“Harry,” I called not taking my eyes off Dean, “A ruling here.” 

“She did mention her,” Harry called tiredly. He’d been shopping with Dean and I for the last twenty minutes and this was the third argument we’d gotten into… None of them meant anything but they were annoying Harry none-the-less. “Sorry mate,” 

“Fine.” Dean’s eyes thinned into slits. “You win this one Y/L/N,” He turned to Harry  and threw a soft punch into his bicep, “Thanks for having my back bro…” 

“Hey, don’t punch him,” I punched Dean in the arm, He grabbed it his mouth opening in a pain-filled hiss. 

“Ouch,” He cried. “Why’d you do that…” 

“Well….” I stuttered lamely looking for an excuse, “Don’t punch people,” 

“But you punched me,” 

“It was a lesson,” 

“Enough now children,” Harry taunted stepping between us. “Let’s just finish the shopping and we can get home,” 

“Fine, you win this one Y/N,” Dean pulled up the list, 

“That’d be the second one I’ve won then Dean,” I smirked innocently. 

“Y/N,” Harry groaned, his hand flying to his forehead. 

“Y/N, I swear to -,” 

“Dean, please, just let it go.” Harry cried his hand still against his forehead. 

“Fine.” He huffed. "I’ll go grab the salsa, you two get the meat and vegetables.” He threw the list back into the basket and walked off. Harry  and I stood watching him for a second, 

“He’s a child,” I muttered, 

“You’re both children,” Harry quipped. “Is George coming over tonight?” Harry  inquired as we began to walk again, 

“No, just Charlotte,” I lent across him to pick up a white onion, “I haven’t seen George since the other night,” 

“You two have a fight?” I looked up at Harry as he fiddled with some garlic bulbs. 

“No,” 

“You two are just normally together,” I shrugged my shoulders, 

“I dunno what you want me to say?” I looked away from Harry. 

“Did something happen between you?” 

Now Y/N, think carefully is this a good time to divulge to Harry that you kissed George? 

“Well…” I trailed off, eyes squinting as I racked my brain for the best way to tell Harry, 

“Well, what?” 

“George and I may have … kissed,” I moved away from him walked down the end to grab some carrots. “Three times,” 

“Wow.” 

“Wow?” 

“I mean congratulations,” Harry sighed running a hand through his hair, “That’s great, exactly what you wanted isn’t it?” He walked towards me, “I mean you have feelings for him,” 

“Still so obvious?” Harry’s lips broke into a breathy smile. 

“You’re getting better at hiding it,” He shrugged his shoulders, “But you still give him the look,”

“And is it still as pathetic as ever?”

“Nothing you ever do will be pathetic Y/N, when are you going to accept that?” 

“I’m an idiot,”

“Oh?” 

“I told him I didn’t want anything more,” 

“Y/N,”

“Only because he said it was ‘just a kiss’ and that ‘friends kiss all the time,’… twice!” I cried. “God I’m so stupid,” 

“He said that?” Harry  questioned, “Like he really said that?” I nodded my head, “What a dick move,”

“I get why,” I walked away from Harry over to the other side of the displays, “I’m not like the girls he chases… I’m not blonde, skinny…. You know the spiel by now,”

“Y/N, you have got to have the thickest head ever,”

“Harry !”

“I mean it, who cares if you're not blonde, or you aren’t super thin… you’re a great person,” Harry leant on the display crossing his hands, “Remember when I told you that you were nothing like those girls? That you were smart, funny and you’re beautiful without even trying?” I nodded my head, “I meant it… MacKay is an idiot for saying that shit too you, and one day it’s going to bite him in the arse.” Harry shook his head, “You want to know what happened between Oliver and me?” 

“If you want to share it,”

“Oliver made a comment about -,”

“Got the salsa,” Dean cried as he rounded the corner, “And you two have not moved.” He looked between Harry and I, “I thought you wanted to get out of here as soon as possible, and yet here you are yapping away,” He shook his head, tone dripping with false disappointment. 

“Shut up Dean,” I groaned, “C’mon, let’s go,” 

Stupid Dean, he was just about to tell me. 

“Yes! Let’s go meet Charlotte,” Dean cried sarcastically pulling me under his arm, “And cannot wait to eat more of your food Y/N,” I gasped and pushed him away, 

“Hey!” I cried, “I’m a good cook,” 

“No, you’re not. You’re horrible.” 

“Am not,” 

“Are too,” 

“Harry ?”

“He’s right Y/N, you’re not the best cook…” Harry  trailed off as Dean threw his hands up victoriously, 

“Two to One,” He held up two fingers, dropping one quickly. “I’m catching you,” 

“You two ate my soup last week!”

“Toilet,” Dean shrugged, 

“What about the stir-fry dinner I left for you and the guys last when you were watching the football?” 

“Jordan and Henry may have thrown it off the balcony,” Harry  meekly replied, 

“But…” 

“Tonight should be fine though, how can you mess up nachos?” Dean chuckled. 

                                Six hours ago

“Nachos…” Harry mumbled as he pulled up one of the burnt corn-chips. “Look great,” 

“What’s that smell?” Charlotte asked from her spot across from me, “Is something burning?” 

“Something is burnt,” Dean chuckled, “How do you like your nachos Charlotte? Crispy? Or burnt?”

“Dean,” 

“Maybe we should just order pizza?” I sighed slouching in my chair. Somehow I’d let Dean distract me as I put the dish of nachos in the over to melt the cheese and the next thing I knew the flat was filled with smoke, “If Dean didn’t distract me none of this would have happened!” 

“Not my fault I’m so dashingly distracting,” 

“Shut up Dean,” I groaned. 

“Are you though?” Charlotte teased, “I mean, Y/N told me about Harry, but you were never mentioned,” 

“Oh,” Dean turned to look at me, “Is that so?”

“Mhhm,” Charlotte hummed, her hand reaching down to pat Bronte’s head, “All about his dreamy eyes, and how cute he looks in the morning,” 

“Charlotte!” I protested my head falling into my hands, “It wasn’t like that!” 

“Oh yeah?” Harry  laughed this time, “Then what was it like?” 

“I hate you all!” 

“I dunno, it seems like you find Harry to be … what was the word she used Charlotte,” I could hear the smirk in Dean’s voice, 

“I believe it was ‘adorable with a large dash of sexy,’… am I right Y/N,” 

“Oh my god,” I groaned banging my head gently on the table, “Kill me,” 

“But, if we killed you, you wouldn’t get to look at this adorable face,” Harry  taunted from his seat beside me, 

“I’m going to murder you, Harry,” 

“But then you wouldn’t see my beautiful face again,” 

                           Five hours ago

“More wine?” I asked getting up from the couch as the intro for the big bang theory started up again, 

“None for me… mum will kill me if I walk down hammered,” Charlotte replied turning back to her conversation with Dean. 

“Harry ?” 

“Yes, please,” He passed his glass over to me as I passed him, I glanced at the books Charlotte and I had pulled out with the intent to study only to have our attention dragged to Dean and Harry’s lively conversations about the big bang theory. Looking back at Charlotte and seeing how happily she and Dean were I couldn’t break them apart and ask her to study with me. “I’ll help you later tonight,” Harry  spoke lowly as he followed me into the kitchen, 

“Thanks,” I jumped up onto the bench and began picking at the cold, burnt nachos. “They’re getting along,” 

“Like a house on fire,” He agreed pulling the bottle towards us, “I never was a fan of red wine,” 

“Until,”

“Until I realised buying a shitty bottle of wine was cheaper than vodka,” He flashed me a toothy smile. “Then I became a big fan of red wine,” 

“I always thought it made me look sophisticated, drinking it.” 

“But do you feel sophisticated,” I reached out and grabbed the bottle from him, 

“Anytime we aren’t drinking from the bottle,” 

“So not a lot then?” He grinned. 

“Not a lot,” I confirmed with a giggle of my own. 

“About what George said to you,” 

“Can’t we just forget it, Harry?” 

“No, I want you to know that he’s a nitwit,” I passed the bottle over to Harry with a roll of my eyes. “I’m being serious,” 

“Harry … let’s just forget this. From this point on, I am swearing off guys. I’m going to go to class, hang out with Charlotte and you, and Blake and Henry, and study… that’s it… This George thing has been enough to send me mental,” 

Y/N's new life rules 

No guys, just study... Especially if that guy's name starts with a G... Study, Study, Study

Learn to cook, 

Study 

No falling back to the old ways where you fawn and fall all over a certain boy with a G name.

Try not to mention to any future friends how cute you think your roommate is.