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neathbound-fiends · 1 year

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A Spoiler-light Guide for Fallen London

A couple friends have recently started playing FL, or were curious about the game and setting, and I thought it would be handy to try and put together a little guide to the basic setting and lore that ground you into it, and. well. brevity is the soul of wit, but it is neither a virtue nor a friend of mine. So I figured I would post it for other people to enjoy as well!

I don’t really delve into the mechanics too deeply, and also avoid a lot of the really lore-heavy stuff (Ambitions, Parabola, the Railway, etc), and have kept it pretty narrowed on Fallen London in particular

If you see any glaring errors, let me know, and if you find it handy, consider giving it a reblog! Guide beneath cut

Fallen London is a text-based role-playing/interactive narrative browser game with gothic overtones, in the gaslamp fantasy and alternative history genres. There is art for icons for characters, for banners, and two different interactive maps, and social options with other players to help/hinder them in certain aspects, but the gameplay itself is entirely text-based and is single-player. The central conceit of Fallen London is as follows:

Forty years ago, in December of 1861, Prince Albert dies. In our timeline, his wife remains in mourning black for the rest of her life. In this timeline, however, she is approached by shadowy figures, referring to themselves only as the ''Masters of the Bazaar'', or occasionally simply the ''Masters''. They offer her back her husband's life, in exchange for one thing: the city of London. She accepts their terms, and in the beginning of 1862, the city disappears overnight, swallowed by a cloud of bats. London, now referred to as Fallen London by its inhabitants and much of the rest of the world, now resides quite cozily in a vast subterranean cavern referred to as the Neath. The above world is referred to simply as the Surface to any of the Neath's citizens

BASIC GEOGRAPHY OF FALLEN LONDON

The Neath itself is quite vast, enough so to contain an ocean of its own, and is located in rough proximity to a variety of interesting locations, which will be touched on further below. The city itself, referred to as the Fifth City, as it's the fifth to be swallowed into the Neath, has been rearranged terribly, with all the streets twisting and labyrinthine, leading to the Bazaar at the center of it, wherein the Masters conduct their business, and which is their main focus of power. Beneath the Fifth City lies the Fourth, beneath that the Third, the Second, the First. When a new City is stolen purchased, it is simply dropped atop the previous one, crushing it. There are remains of previous Cities to be found if one looks hard enough

The Fifth City itself is divided into various neighborhoods, each of which carries its own reputation, notable locations, and faction(s) it caters to. The main areas of the City are as follows:

These places, for the most part, correspond to the names of locations in their prelapsarian counterparts, but have had their names changed due to the outlawing of their continued use (along with the confiscation and ban on any former maps, or of the street signs that once made the City more traversable on the Surface.) Ladybones Road was once Marlyebone, Veilgarden was once Covent Garden, and so forth. Most of the new names are, roughly, analogous, or able to be parsed somewhat from their old ones

+Spite, a district which is known for its rookeries, its silk weavers, and primarily its Criminal elements, and housing Mahogany Hall, the notorious venue of magicians, stageplays, operas, and other forms of theatrical entertainment, the Orphanage, one of many but most notorious for something going on there, and Doubt Street, where the City's newspapers are printed

+Veilgarden, the Bohemian center of London, which is home to drug dens, brothels, bookstores, one of the most notorious pubs in all of London, and housing, on one end, the University (itself divided between Benthic and Summerset Colleges, which cater to any and everyone, including women and the infernal, and the much more posh and well-bred of Society, respectively)

+Ladybones Road, haunt of spies, Devils, and detectives, housing Moloch Street Station, which runs a direct train line to Hell, the Brass Embassy, Hell's Embassy in London, Concord Square, the base of the Constables, and the notorious home of the Honey-Addled Detective

+Wilmot's End, the true haunt of spies playing the Great Game, and housing little more than a large quantity of statues, memorials, etc, as well as the Foreign Office, an office catering to those with interests beyond London

+The Flit, knotted rope bridges and rickety platforms of scrap wood and metal, and the haunt of the orphan gangs, Revolutionaries, and housing the court of the mad beggar known as the Topsy King, and his ''court'' the Raggedy Men, used as a safe haven from the Constables who won't chase you that far

+Mrs. Plenty's Carnival, home to the City's carnival and a neutral ground in which to meet the major factions of the game (detailed further below), with the dangerous House of Mirrors, and housing Madame Shoshana's fortune telling tent

+Watchmaker's Hill, a haunt of no one in particular, and home to the Department of Menace Eradication, the base out of which the monster-hunters of all stripes take contracts, the notorious pub the Medusa's Head, run by a Criminal kingpin known as the Cheery Man, and an observatory which employs only the blind; the secret fight-rings, run by a self proclaimed Prince, are also operated out of here, though they take place in various locations across the City

+Wolfstack Docks, home to Zailors, dockworkers, and factory workers, and home to the notorious pub the Blind Helmsman, and a large quantity of the City's factories, as well as the offices of one of the Masters

+Bazaar Side-Streets, the crowded and elite establishments which cater to the well-heeled and well-connected enough to have earned a spot with such obscene rent, including a large number of social clubs, the most fearsome law firm in London, Baseborn & Fowlingpiece, Solicitors at Law, and other businesses which cater to Persons of Some Importance

+The Forgotten Quarter, ruins of the Fourth City which serve as the haunt of outcasts of all stripes, including Devils, Tomb Colonists, and Rubbery Men, and home to nothing but a Base Camp one can establish for expeditions and ruin diving, and the Temple Club, a mysterious club whose entry is nearly impossible to gain

+The Shuttered Palace, the home of Her Enduring Majesty, known most commonly and widely as the Traitor Empress, and the Court within caters to Society types, Constables, the Church, and those connected to the Duchess, and barred to anyone who's displeased the Empress or Prince Consort

BASIC ECOLOGY AND WEATHER

The Neath, due to the lack of sunlight, and owing to the nature of being a cavern, also lacks the majority of weather. It does maintain seasonality, somewhat, with the False-summer being exceptionally hot and humid, and also being the season for ''spore-fever'', when the majority of the fungal and mycological life sporulates, and is described as a City-wide allergy season. There is also a winter, in which the City is bitterly cold, and paths to lodgings are blocked by the ''snow'', an oddly textured slurry that smells of ammonia and is considered dangerous for the soul, and lasts about a month. The rest of the time, the weather is fairly consistent; a bit cold, often damp, with a tendency towards thick fog at the Docks, and along the edges of the City. Occasionally it drizzles lightly, and seldomly it will open in a violent downpour that matches the ferocity of a true rainstorm as one might encounter on the Surface

Due to the lack of sunlight necessary for most plant life, the Neath is primarily filled with species that have adapted to this. Algae blooms, insects with bioluminescence, and a vast array of mushrooms and other fungus which thrive in the dark and damp, and have been converted into all manner of commodity and service. Fabrics made of strange pelts, or woven from the silk of massive tarantulas, or feathers of the few birds that can be caught. Food made of all forms of insect, of zee-creature, of meat of questionable origin, of mushrooms turned into nearly any delicacy you can imagine. The people have adapted to the darkness as well, with an extensive use of candles, gas lamps, lanterns, and, rather sparingly due to the immense cost, electric lighting

NON-HUMAN CITIZENS

One of the changes in the animals of the Neath, aside from the physical changes which are adaptations to their new surroundings, are that cats and rats have both gained the miraculous (if obnoxious) gifts of speech and sentience. Cats guard the secrets of the City, and rats have formed their own industries and societies beneath the streets and in the forgotten corners of the City. They are granted some of the same rights as humans, though not fully. One of the former mayors of London, the very last one before the position was abolished, was a cat

In addition to rats and cats, the Neath also boasts several other species of nonhuman inhabitants imbued with sentience milling about. These are:

Clay Men, (note that not all are men), a species primarily created for the purpose of cheap labor. They do not require sustenance, can be repaired with mud, and are generally obedient. Those who are freed are free to pursue other avenues of employment, for themselves, though they are met with harsh backlash from the City, as well as their own kind. Unfinished Men, Clay Men who lack something physical or metaphysical, are often hunted for being dangerous. Notable Clay Men include Jasper and Frank, enforcers for the Masters, and the Familiar Footman

Rubbery Men, who are almost exclusively considered non-men, but are considered Rubbery. They are squid people, or at least something near to it, who are unable to speak human/humanoid languages, with a deep affinity for amber, and who are reviled by polite society, though they all appear to be incredibly mild mannered, and often skittish. They occupy an obscure and nigh inaccessible locale known as Flute Street. Notable Rubbery Men include the Tentacled Entrepreneur

Devils, who are discussed in more detail in a further section. Notable devils include the deviless Virginia, former Lord-Mayor of London

THE BASIC FACTIONS

There are twelve factions with whom you can gain Favors (used as a currency to spend using their connections for rewards), and Renown (a system ranking one's closeness to any given faction, and occasionally used as a check for certain options, and can grant special items upon reaching certain levels). There are also several additional factions that don't grant Favors/Renown, but are instead measured through Connected:, a level which you can spend points of like Favors but lacking in the special Renown items. The major factions of Fallen London are as follows:

THE UNTERZEE

+Bohemians: the artists of Fallen London, primarily through sculpture, paintings, written forms, and fashion. Known as being rather outre, and less than respectable. Often associated with criminal elements to a lesser degree, and with drugs, alcohol, and hedonism

+Constables: the law of Fallen London. They form the police force, and are often considered to be in the pocket of the Masters and the rich. They occupy Concord Square, run the prison of New Newgate, and have a large outpost in late game content

+Criminals: the organized crime of Fallen London. There are numerous heavy hitters once can back behind, running conflicting and overlapping enterprises, and in innumerable different varieties. The biggest names in the Fifth City's crime are the Cheery Man, the Gracious Widow, and the Topsy King, though it is difficult to cross any part of the city without encountering a Criminal

+Hell: the infernal denizens of the Neath, and frequent visitors to Fallen London, touched on in a later section

+Revolutionaries: the anarchists, the pamphlet-pushers, and the counter culture of Fallen London. They run contrary to the Masters, to the Constables, and to anyone else attempting to oppress them. Their influence is felt most in shadowy areas, though many of them can't agree what it is they should all be fighting for. Factions within, falling beneath different organizers and goals, leads to infighting--and bombs

+Rubbery Men: the tentacles outcasts of Fallen London, touched on briefly above

+Society: the wealthy, privileged elite of Fallen London. They are respectable upper crust, who are mostly old money (though some new), and who hold sway within the court of public opinion. Many of them are found in exclusive salons, or in the Empress's Court, and who frown upon any unseemly things (the impoverished, the outre, the daring, etc)

+The Church: the clergy of Fallen London. This is, very notably, the Anglican Church. They are opposite of Hell as a faction, and are generally regarded with a mixture of veneration and scorn, depending on one's opinion of ecclesiastical matters, and there is noted tension between the Bishop of St. Fiacre's and the Bishop of Southwark

+The Docks: the maritime workers of Fallen London. They are the stevedores, the zailors (discussed in the next session), the captains, and any other maritime occupation, and are mostly centered around Wolfstack. They are highly superstitious, and their favor is capricious with it. Many are known to, or suspected of, engaging in smuggling as they represent the connection to the Surface

+The Great Game: the spies of Fallen London. The Great Game represents powers from every country and every continent, and its agents and actors are often known for their ruthlessness with their fellow spies. They are often noted for using the game of chess as a motif, and perhaps as a more direct usage of their power

+Tomb-Colonists: the elderly, and the ugly of Fallen London. When one has gotten too old, or gained too many scars to be fit for polite society, they are exiled to the Tomb Colonies, a series of Quiet Cities which serve as a retirement community of sorts. Dusty and ancient, they are wrapped in bandages like mummies, and know the secrets of Cities past. The most famous Tomb Colony city is that of Venderbight

+Urchins: the orphans of Fallen London, who are commonly located between the roofs themselves and the Flit. They've formed several notable gangs, who wage warfare with eachother and against the people around them. The named gangs are the Regiment, the Knotted Sock, the Fisher-Kings, the Noughts, and the Crosses (the most bitter warfare is between the latter two)

Touching London, and the purpose of the Docks, is the Unterzee, often shortened to the Zee, a massive brackish lake originally explored by Dutch sailors, who gave it its name. Zailors, those who ply their trade on the water, are often given to dropping a nautical Z into their speech (though an overuse of this is a sure sign of a landlubber who's trying too hard). The Zee itself has numerous islands, and several ''continents'', as well as other landmarks and dangers within it. Pirates, brawling monks, and Devils are just some of the other people along the waters who will hinder your progress and pose a threat to the merchants and private vessels that plow through the dark waters of the Zee. Maps are notoriously useless in the Neath, but especially so when zailing; the geography occasionally opts to rearrange itself in a vast shifting of land, though it stays somewhat consistent as to allow experience to be a guide, and to help correct the inconsistencies

In the waters, some of the zee-beasts one might encounter include vicious seals with armored hide, massive crabs with a penchant for malice and murder, feral crocodiles, and massive icebergs that consume and destroy everything in their path. Some of the less hostile zee-life take the form of starfish with a massive eye on each of the arms, some type of aquatic life with beautiful rainbow fins, some horrible aquatic spider-adjacent creature that spits webs on you, and massive jellyfish. Also in the waters, neither animal nor human, are the Drownies, who are the victims of drownings and who are alive...sort of. They're drowned corpses, who are animate as much as any other person, but whose bodies tend to retain the dimples from being touched, who are always frigid and shivering (and complaining), and who are keen on drowning others to join them. They serve an entity known as the Fathom-king

Zee captains are the only way in which you can receive any goods from the Surface, as their heavy black cloth draped vessels navigate the canal that connects the two, at great expense. Fresh goods are prohibitively priced due to the cost involved in getting them down to the Neath, so only the wealthy enjoy anything that isn't native to the Neath

HELL

Not quite touching London, but near enough to the west to have grabbed London's attention, lies Hell. There is debate among theologians whether or not it's the Hell spoken of in the Bible, or some other region that contains some of the fanciful elements, and the Devils themselves are no help. London entered into a war with their infernal neighbors, intent on conquering them, and were defeated so terribly that the infamous Campaign of '68 still has scars on the surviving veterans and forced the City to make some concessions

Chief among these was the establishment of an Embassy in London, and a railway that runs back to Hell for any hardworking Devil to return home after a long day's work. Those who don't have apartment in the Embassy, and along Moloch Street are a number of establishments by and for the infernal, including Dante's Grill, and Abbadon and Bael (a trading company). The Embassy is also known for its extravagant masked balls, for its floors of molten brass, and for the thriving soul trade that runs through it

The nature of souls is also much debated. Souls are physical things that can be extracted, that can be sold, melted, consumed, or otherwise changed. The soul trade is strictly regulated through the Bazaar; Hell imports souls, and charges its Devils with, first and foremost, gathering them from the residents of London, and in exchange, Hell exports brass, hydrogen, devilbone, and other little odds and ends. Souls possess different qualities, and different flaws, which correspond to the appearance, as well as to the taste, of it. More experienced Devils are able (or at least claim to be able) to discern the person a soul came from just based on examination of it, and are regarded and referred to as sommeliers for this purpose. Living without a soul is perfectly manageable, though you may find yourself barred from certain well-respected establishments and persons, as they don't associate with the soulless

The Devils themselves are somewhat of an anomaly. They are not human, certainly, but they are quite humanlike. They eat, they sleep, they breathe. They possess eyes that range from shades of yellow to amber to dark orange or red, sharp teeth, and a faint but noticeable aroma of roses, rot, and brimstone. Despite persistent rumors, they don't actually have horns, nor do they have tails, but they are almost painfully hot to the touch, and their saliva and tears are both hot enough to burn

With a propensity towards law, they regulate their soul trade through the use of contracts, and can be terribly charming when they want to be. They appreciate art, they appreciate cuisine, they appreciate lavish and flashy lifestyles. They are all fake. Their affection and attentions only run so long as there is something to be gained. Their vengeance is patient, as they will inform you that the oldest among them are thousands of years old, that they will eclipse your lifespan by tens or hundreds of times. They are ruthlessly efficient, often hedonistic, and value the worst traits of people. To be beloved by the Devils is to be reviled by the upper echelons of Society, and one must be either foolish or reckless to seek their company

Just as there is regulated soul trade, there is also unregulated soul trade, which is referred to as spirifage. Spirifage, practiced by spirifers, are almost exclusively humans, who tend to steal the souls of the desperate and downtrodden in order to sell them directly to Hell for a better rate, as they're able to avoid all the tariffs and the red-tape that one encounters when going through the legal channels of the Bazaar. They often work for Hell, under the auspices of a Devil with questionable goals or needs, as anyone caught engaging in spirifage is severely punished, so as to prohibit the lucrative trade from being outside of the control they hold

One of the most notable things about the Devils, aside from their inhuman nature, is that they are also, undeniably, anachronistic. Fallen London takes place in the 1890s (perpetually. The current year is 1901 1899 III, due to a decree that the new century has been canceled indefinitely.) The Devils, however, possess fashion, technology, turns of phrases, tastes, and other features associated with the American 1920s. Their architecture and clothing are described as shockingly modern, from a time which has yet to pass, their music featuring a lot of brass, their accents thick (New Yorkers, the lot of them). The reasons behind this are rather lore-intensive, but this is worth noting (in my opinion) nonetheless

THE MASTERS

Up until now, I've been relatively vague regarding the Masters, and mentioning them but without actually explaining anything about them. They are massive cloaked figures, standing at 7+ feet, even hunched as they are, who speak in shrill voices and regulate the trade in London strictly. Despite the Parliament and the Queen, they are undeniably the ones in charge, though they tend to involve themselves mostly with infighting and legislation. The Masters, and their domains of trade, are as follows:

Some Masters are seen often, others rarely, and each, in addition to its own whims and personalities, also run various other enterprises. They range from stalls or shops in various parts of the City, to schemes with and against eachother, to factories and businesses. Regardless of one's feelings towards them, it is impossible to avoid some aspect of London which they have put their gloves hands on.

+Mr. Apples, who governs the trade over wood, fruits, breads, and immortality, among other things

+Mr. Cups, who governs the trade over tableware, crockery, relics, and clocks, and collects garbage interesting trinkets through its Relickers and their carts

+Mr. Fires, who governs the trade over gas, candles, and coal, as well as maintaining the majority of the factories along the Docks. It frequently dispatches the Neddy Men, their personal enforcers, as strikebreakers, and manages the dirigible systems

+Mr. Hearts, who governs the trade over meat, bones, organs, and other exotics

+Mr. Iron, who governs the trade over printing-presses, engines, tools, and weapons, among other entrepreneurial pursuits in the Zee

+Mr. Mirrors, who governs the trade over in glasswork, most notably mirrors and windows. It is rarely seen.

+Mr. Pages, who governs the trade over the written word, and also manages the Ministry of Public Decency, censors who confiscate offensive and dangerous materials from the public

+Mr. Spices, who governs the trade over honey, spices, and smokes, and is in vicious and contentious competition with Mr. Wines for control of dreams

+Mr. Stones, who governs the trade over minerals and gemstones of all varieties, as well as a preoccupation over "value" itself

+Mr. Veils, who governs the trade over cloth and clothing, and who resents the notion that it may be in charge of the ladies of the night attributed to it in zailor's songs

+Mr. Wines, who governs the trade over drinkables, ranging from wine, to medicine, to coffee, to other more sinister potables, and, curiously, excluding water. It is in charge of the prostitutes of the City, and is in contentious competition with Mr. Spices over the domain of dreams

Being that they are excessively large, cloaked head to toe, and speak in shrill whispers (aside from Mr. Iron, who never speaks, and only writes), the general consensus is they are inhuman, though no one is quite sure what they might be. It's unwise to be caught speculating. Their gender, also, seems to be iffy at best. No one seems to really think they consider themselves men; the title ''Mr.'' appears to be a formality

DEATH AND ITS FORMS

Death as a concept is something that is rather complicated in Fallen London, owing to the fact that it is, rarely, permanent. Most people have died at least once, some more than others (and some much more than others), but you wouldn't know it aside from perhaps a novel and dashing scar, or a story surrounding the circumstances of it.

Temporary death lands one on a slow boat in a river, headed by a skeletal man (known, quite simply, as the Boatman) who carefully steers away from the hungrier parts of the river and away from the banks. There are a number of ways for one to return to life, whether you choose to steal the breath of your fellow passengers, to play chess against the Boatman, or to think very, very hard about being alive again, or a few others

There is no consensus as to what exactly your body in the slow boat is, because your body--your real one, perhaps--is still located where it fell. People may rummage through your pockets, or do you a good turn and patch you up a bit, or drag you off to someplace less obtrusive until you return to it, but it is very much present wherever it was

Temporary death, the kind that is the most abundant by orders of magnitude, is achieved through a great number of means. One could die in the fight rings, or receive a fatal wound from an overzealous player of Knife-and-Candle, the boyish game of murder, or have caught the wrong end of Jack-of-Smiles--or, at least, one of his many incarnations; the ways to meet your end in Fallen London are many, and the consequences are generally negligible. Those who acquire too many deaths, and in so doing too much scarring, are exiled to the Tomb Colonies

Though inconvenient to die (it really doesn't feel good at all), it's regarded by the general populace as being no more inconvenient than a few bee stings, or other such troubling but trifling circumstances. Pain, and much of your day lost to attempting to recover, but little else otherwise

The biggest consequence of a death is that your first one guarantees you will belong to the Neath, forever. You will never again be able to return to the Surface, because contact with the sunlight will kill you permanently. This is also true, of course, if you have spent long enough in the Neath, but the timeline is hazy at best. No one can say for certain that it's been too long unless you attempt it, and that's a risk rarely actually taken beyond in one's daydreams. With a death, however, there is no longer any doubt about the situation. You know, for certain, that you have officially lost your chance, and that this is your new home, now and forever

As mentioned above, there are a few methods of permanent death. For example, there are a select few poisons capable of killing you permanently, though they're rare and expensive. You could be exposed to sunlight (and, in fact, some Tomb Colonists, when they feel they've lived long enough and are ready for it, will return to the Surface to allow themselves to be consigned to the sunlight and witness it one final time.) If you're chopped apart properly and dismembered, or sustain a few truly grievous injuries that destroy your body too terrible to render it repairable, you will be permanently dead

Permanent death is such a rare visitor to the Neath that there are often vigils held for the permanently dead before being interred, just to ensure there is truly no chance of their coming back. Surgeons pay citizens who are capable of lying quite still and can tolerate the pain to allow themselves to be cut open to demonstrate to their students

#fallen london #fallen london guide #fallen london lore #failbetter games

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razistoricharka · 8 months

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During the entire people's liberation struggle, I tried to see, hear and remember as much as possible of everything that happened around me in those glorious days. And I looked at my schoolmates, neighbors and acquaintances, yesterday's shepherds, peasants, workers and students growing overnight into warriors, heroes and commanders of the people's army. I watched our joyful youth fighting and dying for the freedom of the native land, for the salvation of humanity from fascist darkness and slavery. Then, in 1941, I began to write poems about our glorious partisan army and its struggle. This is how the songs "Grave in the Wheat", "Song of the Dead Proletarians", "On the Petrovac Road" sprung about. They were later collected in the collection "Fiery Birth of the Homeland" and printed during the war. During the war, I also wrote a large number of short theater pieces, which were performed by youth theater troupes throughout the free partisan territory. I didn't forget our first, wartime, pioneers, whose companies sprung up all over our freed people villages and towns. I wrote poems for them, and at the end of the war I finished and printed a book of stories for children under the title "Partisan Stories". Once, during the war, a company of pioneers met me in the village of Dubovik, and when they recognized me, their commander stopped me and said: — Comrade Branko, here's a pen and paper, so write us a poem, and we'll wait a bit. The pioneers planted their banner in some shade and sat around it. I also sat down by a tree and I wrote them the poem "My Machinegun" on that piece of paper, which I had already written in my head along the way. "It's good," said their commander when I read it out loud. — Here's a handful of hazelnuts, just hand me your cap."

Enamored with Branko Ćopić recording both a bit of the life of partisan theater troupes as well as being paid via Pathologic trading mechanics, beautiful world.

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theletterunread · 2 years

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Sam’s Dad

The idea must have come from the internet. Or TV. There was no real-life inspiration I could see. Nobody else in his school had had such a birthday party, and besides, Sam brought it up at bedtime, the time of night at which his day at school is always most obliviated. I should have asked who put it in his head, but the request left me too unmoored to talk, and his mother’s reaction set us on a different path.

“I want to invite everyone to the party.”

“Everyone?” said Anita. “In the world?”

“No!” said Sam, laughing and thrashing around under his blankets. “Everyone in class.”

“Oh! Okay. How many kids are in your class?”

“12 girls and 11 boys.”

“Including you?”

“Yeah.”

“Which makes…?”

Sam scrunched his eyes, but this was just for dramatic effect. He knew the answer. “23!” he yelled, kicking his legs hard enough to untuck the sheets.

“Okay, okay,” said Anita. “Calm down, crazy boy. We can do that.”

“Well, hold on,” I said, tucking in the sheets. Having some business to do with my hands helped disguise the nervousness in my voice. “23 is a lot of people. When they’re all here, you might realize you really only wanted your friends.”

“Everyone’s a friend in Ms. Bretillo’s class,” replied Sam.

That sounded like it came from a banner that was hanging over his classroom’s door – the kind of relentless messaging that you’re powerless not to absorb – but I didn’t say so. Instead, I asked, “Are you doing this because you think you’ll get more presents?”

“No.”

“Then why?”

“It’s too mean when some people don’t get invitations.”

Anita gave Sam a squeeze and a kiss for this, and I felt the situation slipping out of my control. “Well, your mom and I will talk about it…”

“Oh, relax,” said Anita. “We can handle it. We’re not planning a wedding. It’s an eighth birthday.”

“But that’s a lot of kids to schedule, a lot of food to prepare.”

“They’re just gonna run around the yard for an afternoon. We’ll tell the parents not to expect any meal, and everyone will get a little piece of cake.”

Anita cinched the blankets tighter around Sam, kissed him again, and left. I wasn’t ready to end the discussion, but no more arguments came to mind. When I bent down to give Sam a kiss, I noticed, for the first time, that my heart was pounding.

I hoped that the notion would be forgotten overnight, like so many childish passions are, but it continued to be talked about. By the weekend, Anita had dug out the school directory and was using it to prepare 22 invitations. Sam wanted to write an individual message to each kid, but Anita had convinced him, in the interest of saving time, to settle for a form message with his wet-ink signature at the bottom of each.

Sam’s signatures (printed, not in cursive) always started flat, but bent upwards by the end of the M. And he’d got the idea in his head that all letters needed serifs (I was there when it happened: he was observing the font in his Superfudge book), so he spent a while adding tails all over each signature, which slowed down considerably the assembly line of printing, folding, and stuffing invitations into envelopes. This was a habit that manifested often in Sam’s behavior – hyper-focusing on details while ignoring the big picture.

I noticed it whenever he was trying to recount some scene or joke from a movie or TV show or video game. Rather than just getting to the point, Sam would feel the need to lay out every bit of irrelevant context or backstory. So when he finally reached his point, his audience was totally lost and often annoyed. I hasten to say that I was never annoyed by Sam. But he had habits that those who didn’t love him unconditionally could reasonably find tedious. I’m thinking of the way he’d bounce up and down and cheer at the slightest good turn of fortune (an offer of a snack of animal crackers, the television airing a regularly scheduled broadcast of his favorite show), and of his emotional nakedness, which kids find just as uncomfortable as adults.

These were behaviors I remember seeing in unpopular kids when I was in school. Not that I was Mr. Magnetism, but I was accepted by the crowd, and I had specific friends beyond that. I hadn’t seen that in Sam. He wasn’t being shut out of any group, but he was only a participant as a generic part of a group, if that makes sense. He could be swept up into any activity that involved a lot of kids, but when individual selections were made, Sam was never a top choice. Even when he did wind up in a one-on-one dynamic (a sleepover, playing some invented game on the jungle gym), it never grew into a lasting friendship. My son was always just a seat-filler.

Some days after the invitations were handed out, I was waiting with a dozen other parents at the border of the schoolyard. The bell was still a few minutes from releasing the students. I always tried to arrive for pickup as close to Sam’s emergence as I could, so I wouldn’t wind up in conversation with the other parents. But the stoplights were all green that day, so I was early, and wound up talking with Aldin, as bad a turn of fortune as there could be.

Aldin was the father of Richie, who, since kindergarten, had been in the same subdivision of each grade as Sam. This meant Aldin and I were often proximate at recitals and art shows and parent-teacher nights. He was a repellant pest who thought it was funny to whisper putdowns about the kids (his, mine, and the rest), holding, say, their efforts at clay sculptures to the standards of Rodin, or nudging me knowingly every time somebody dropped a line in The Wizard of Oz. He was afraid that the children’s failures (and I say “failures” only to accept Aldin’s premise) were somehow going to reflect poorly on him. His ego was bound up in his kid’s success, and it was astounding that he couldn’t see that.

To my horror, he began by bringing up the party invitation. I was certain he was going to make some crack about Sam’s handwriting, but instead, he just asked, “Who’s coming to this shindig?”

“Who’s coming?” I replied. “Or who’s invited?”

“Whichever. Give me the answer that sounds better.”

“Everyone was invited, but I’m not sure how many––”

“Oh, you’re afraid it’s gonna be some no-show event?” I didn’t answer this out loud, but it must have been written on my face, because he went on. “I mean, I get it, you don’t want it to be some traumatic disaster. But don’t sweat it. Kids are gonna go to a party.”

“We’ll see,” I said, hoping to sound airy. But it came out doom-stricken, and Aldin recognized that.

“Hey.” He actually put his hand on my shoulder. “Richie will be there. I’ll get him hyped for it. He’ll spread that to the other kids. And I’ll talk to the other parents too. You’ll have a crowd.”

I felt this deserved thanks, but offering that to Aldin would have been an admission of feelings I didn’t wish to share with him. So I vamped by clearly my throat and pretending to be lost in thought until our kids came out of the building and I could leave.

Nobody arrived early for the party, but I was the only one to see this for the red alert it was. Sam and Anita merely spent the last half hour before 2pm stacking and restacking the board game boxes that had been hauled out of the closet. Though the bulk of the action was expected to take place in the backyard, where we’d strewn every ball and paddle and frisbee and water gun we had, Sam wanted there to be an option for “the quiet kids,” as he dubbed them. So while he and his mother tried to find the most appealing arrangement of boxes, I silently calculated how small a party would have to be to foreclose the possibility of even a single guest messing up the time and arriving early.

When 2 o’clock rolled around and there was still nobody there, Anita distracted herself by bringing out the food that she’d intended to save for midway through the party. There were cheese puffs and blue corn chips as well as a touchingly naïve platter of celery sticks and baby carrots. It may have been nothing more than my literally hypersensitive mood, but the crunch of her bitten vegetables echoed loudly though the house. I stayed away from the food myself, though eating would have been at least some kind of distraction. I was afraid I might throw a plate across the room.

After an hour of waiting, Anita spent 20 minutes out in the yard alone, with her face turned up to the sky. She was ready to claim, if asked, that she was checking the weather, wondering if some threatening clouds had blown in that might be discouraging guests. But it was uninterruptedly sunny out, and anyone could see that, even from indoors. She didn’t want Sam to see her tears, whereas I was reaching the stage of fury where I began to think that it was better shared, that Sam and Anita would be better off raging at the absent guests rather than letting the pervading mood mutate into unhappy self-reflection.

In the first hour-and-a-half of waiting, I only saw Sam look at the clock once. He kept his head down, working on a Lego set that had been gifted by his grandparents. Not building it – he could have finished that in 15 minutes – but doing everything else: sorting the pieces by size or by color, stacking every piece into one tower, pouring the pieces into or out of the box. When the tension of waiting for him to say something became too great, I walked to the other side of the room, where I could better see his face. His expression was unbothered – he appeared transfixed by his building blocks.

The silence got to Anita as well, and she eventually blurted out, “I don’t know where everyone is.”

Without looking up, Sam said, “We’ll see.” Though I heard him perfectly clearly, I asked him to repeat himself. He did, but his tone was no less opaque the second time.

At five, when Anita decided there was no point in not carving up the cake, she took Sam into the kitchen and I went to the car with the school directory in hand. I backed out of the driveway without looking and drove fast through the neighborhood. I thought of kids playing carelessly on the streets and didn’t slow down.

Aldin and his family lived on Larkspur Court, nowhere I’d ever been, but I deduced it was in the neighborhood by the reservoir, with the other flower-named streets. The trip there wasn’t long, yet still by the time I pulled into his driveway, I had worked out my entire speech: everything I would said when Aldin opened the door, and alternate responses to every pathetic defense he might offer. Normally, rage clouded my thinking, but this time, it was some kind of muse. I even had ideas for how to deflect his wife, if he tried to hide behind her.

What I wasn’t prepared for was his son Richie opening the door. Still, I only hesitated for a moment before barging into the house, ready to launch into my script. “Where’s your dad?” I asked.

“He’s not here,” said Richie.

“Then where’s your mom?”

“I don’t know.”

He hadn’t reacted at all to my angry knocking or to the way I stomped across the threshold as soon as the door had opened. He was either precociously unintimidated by grown-ups, or just too dumb to pick up on my violent energy. “Look, I’m not a burglar,” I said, though he didn’t seem to need the reassurance. “I’m just looking for your parents. I’m Sam’s dad.”

“Oh,” said Richie. “They’re not here.”

I looked around the house. It was nice, but only in the way a staged home is nice. Nothing seemed lived-in. From where I stood, I could see into a den without a single depression in any of the couch cushions.

“You don’t know where your parents are?” I said. “When did they leave?”

“They were gone when I woke up.”

“Did you call the police?”

“I don’t have a phone.” This was bizarre, but I looked around the place and saw no landline. And I trusted that he knew the facts of the house better than I did. “It’s okay, though,” he went on. “They leave me alone a lot. And I’m allowed to make my own dinner. I can make you an egg.”

His hands were grimy and gunky, but that didn’t seem to be appropriate grounds to turn down that offer in this context, so I let Richie lead me into the kitchen. He took an egg carton out of the refrigerator, then went rooting through the cabinets for cookware. I remembered a morning when I asked Sam what he wanted for breakfast. He didn’t have a preference, and when I offered to cook him an egg, he shouted “Yeah!” and bounced around so excitedly that he hit his head on a kitchen cabinet door.

“It’s Sam’s birthday party today,” I said. When Richie’s only response was another “Oh,” I felt disappointed, but wasn’t sure why. Then I realized: I wanted him to give me permission to leave.

What Richie pulled out of the cabinet wasn’t a pot or a pan, but a cheap contraption I’d seen advertised on TV: the Egg Wave. He cracked an egg (deftly, for a little kid) into a plastic cup, sealed it, and placed it into the microwave. As he punched in the cook time, I could already feel the vomit rising in my throat. Not just for the disgusting meal that awaited me, but for the shame that came from recognizing that only the world’s worst father would find himself here.

#short story #birthday party #elementary school #fathers #mothers #sons #abandonment #egg wave

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pop-up-trade-show-booth · 4 months

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Trade Show Booths play a crucial role in attracting attention and creating lasting impressions at any event. Whether you're setting up a 10x10 or a 20x20 Trade Show Booth, the key to success lies in your strategy and design. This guide will help you maximize the impact of your Trade Show Booths and ensure they stand out.

Frequently Asked Questions

What is the typical turnaround time for trade show booths and products? Though our typical turnaround time is 5 business days, we can put a rush on your order or even print an overnight label if you’re in a bind! Get your products in hand as soon as possible so that your event is fully stocked to represent your business.

How to Make Your Trade Booth Stand Out? You can apply a wide range of Trade Show Booths ideas to your next scheduled event. You can accessorize your booth with colorful flags and banners. Install a stand for the promo flyers and other items that you hand out to visitors. Above all, choose a bold, colorful, and eye-catching design scheme for your booth.

How to build a trade show booth? All of our booths are user-friendly and don't require professional assistance or installation. Each product takes just a few simple steps to set up, and your Trade Show Booths can be up in just a few minutes. We offer many customizable models of modular trade show displays. You are able to mix and match between products to create an exhibit that is fully custom to your company's needs and preferences.

How Much Does a Show Booth Cost? The average booth can cost you anywhere from $5,000 to $30,000. Some extremely fancy models may reach totals of up to $50,000. The ultimate price that you pay will depend on a number of factors. These may include the style, size, shape, and extent of your budget. Customization may also drive the price up a bit.

How do I care for my custom booth to make sure it lasts? Since we offer such a wide variety of Trade Show Booths products, they all require different care specifications and maintenance. However, proper care consists of using them in their proper setting and making sure you store them in a safe and dry place. Handle them carefully when moving products to avoid snagging or tearing. Our products are high quality and should hold up for the years to come. Please see the individual product pages for specific care instructions.

How to design a trade show booth? All of our trade show products and signages are customizable. Start by browsing through our variety of custom booths and then design them however you want for your perfect trade show display. In addition to customizing the design aspects of each specific product, there are certain product options and accessories to help you get exactly what you want. Match your brand to help your Trade Show Booths stand out.

What makes a good trade show booth? A good trade booth is colorful, attractive, and loaded with items that will promote your business. It also needs to be sturdy and safe enough to be used on multiple occasions.

Do I have to use trade show products for trade shows only or can I repurpose them for other advertising purposes? We have seen our customers use some of our Trade Show Booths products in a number of different ways including farmer's markets, receptions, weddings, family reunions, and other events. Feel free to browse through our trade show display products or any of our categories to find the right product for all of your needs.

Do you offer any other custom trade show products beyond what is on this page? Not seeing a product you're looking for? We are always seeking to give our customers what they want, so let us know what's missing. We offer hundreds of products that are customizable, so make sure you browse through all of our custom Displays, even if they aren't listed as being trade show specific.

What is the fastest I can get my booth delivered? I need to order last-minute! Don’t worry! Just reach out to us today and we’ll see how fast we can get your booth to you. We offer fast turnaround times in general, but we can ship your order overnight if necessary! When placing your order, make sure you select which options you need and type in the date you need your order in hand. If you’re not sure when your shipment will arrive, don’t hesitate to reach out to us and we will walk you through the process.

What is the fastest I can get my Displays? I need to order last minute! Don’t worry! Just reach out to us today and we’ll see how fast we can get your Displays to you. We offer fast turnaround times in general, but we can ship your Displays overnight if necessary! When placing your order, make sure you select which options you need and type in the date you need your order in hand. If you’re not sure when your shipment will arrive, don’t hesitate to reach out to us and we will walk you through the process.

Can my trade show displays be used more than once? Yes, with proper care and maintenance, you should be able to use your displays many times. Make sure you check out specific product pages for specific care instructions. The biggest thing to remember when trying to make your displays last is to make sure you keep them out of extreme weather. Make sure you carefully store your products in a safe and dry environment. Be aware of heavy foot traffic and make sure you’re assembling the products properly. As long as you’re careful, there is no reason you shouldn’t be able to use your Displays and displays at least several times!

Will I need more than one person to set up my Display? Depending on the size and how many products you have as a part of your trade show setup you may need the help of additional people. Smaller displays such as foam board Displays, retractable banners, x-stand banners, tension fabric stands, table throws, table runners, and the like can easily be set up by one person. Others, including bigger displays, like Tension Fabric Displays, Pop-Up Displays, and Step & Repeat Banners, can be done with one person but are definitely easier with 2 or more people involved in the setup and takedown.

Will my fabric Displays wrinkle or get damaged during shipping? Fabric Displays might get wrinkled during shipping, but they will not be damaged. Wrinkles can quickly and easily be removed with a fabric steamer. If your Displays are seriously damaged when they arrive, please let us know! We will make sure you get new Displays quickly and easily. We pride ourselves on our excellent products and even better customer service, which means you should get high-quality products every time you order.

What sizes are typical trade show booths? Typically, standard trade show booth sizes range from 8x8ft all the way up to 20x20ft, depending on the show type. However, we understand that certain shows and convention centers can be smaller or larger, which is why we have options to fit every location. Start with a standard 10x10ft backdrop, and order more Displays and banners to fit your location. At popup-booth.com, we are sure you’ll be able to find the exact size you need, no matter what your booth type is.

recommendation if you're consistently hosting outdoor events!

Why should I use popup-booth.com to print my Displays rather than the trade show's preferred vendor? With popup-booth.com, we pride ourselves on giving you a stress-free experience. We have a long history of satisfied and loyal customers, and our prices are hard to beat! You won't find an easier online experience or better customer service.

https://popuptradeshowbooth.mystrikingly.com/

#Trade Show Booths

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myprintingmatters · 9 months

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Beyond Business Cards: Unexpected Uses for Overnight Prints

In the fast-paced world of printing, where time is of the essence, overnight prints have become a game-changer. My Printing Matters invites you to step into a realm of creativity and innovation, exploring unexpected uses for overnight prints that go beyond the conventional. From emergency signage to spontaneous art projects, discover the untapped potential of quick and impactful printing.

Ephemeral Marketing Marvels In the dynamic landscape of marketing, opportunities often arise spontaneously. Overnight prints offer a lifeline for businesses looking to capitalize on these fleeting moments. Explore the concept of ephemeral marketing and how businesses can leverage quick prints for flash promotions, limited-time offers, and unexpected opportunities. My Printing Matters becomes your partner in turning ideas into reality with swift and efficient overnight prints.

Emergency Signage Solutions In times of unexpected events or emergencies, having access to reliable and quick signage solutions is crucial. My Printing Matters steps in as the go-to source for emergency signage. Whether it’s directional signs, safety notices, or event banners, our overnight prints ensure that businesses and organizations can communicate effectively and promptly in critical situations.

Spontaneous Art Projects Art knows no schedule, and neither should the expression of creativity. Overnight prints become the canvas for spontaneous art projects, allowing artists to bring their visions to life in record time. Explore the possibilities of creating limited-edition prints, art installations, and pop-up exhibitions on short notice. My Printing Matters empowers artists to embrace the spontaneity of their craft with quick and high-quality prints.

Flash Campaign Collateral Sometimes, marketing campaigns need to hit the ground running. Overnight prints become the backbone of flash campaigns, providing businesses with the collateral they need at a moment’s notice. From posters and flyers to promotional brochures, My Printing Matters ensures that your campaign materials are not just fast-tracked but also of exceptional quality, leaving a lasting impact.

On-the-Spot Event Signage Events are dynamic, and last-minute adjustments are par for the course. Overnight prints shine in the realm of on-the-spot event signage. Whether it’s directional signs, sponsor banners, or informational posters, My Printing Matters ensures that event organizers have the flexibility to respond to changing needs swiftly and professionally.

Quick-Turn Retail Promotions In the retail world, timing is everything. Quick-turn retail promotions benefit immensely from overnight prints. Explore how businesses can capitalize on trends, seasons, or sudden surges in demand with rapid promotional materials. My Printing Matters becomes the reliable partner for businesses seeking to stay ahead in the competitive retail landscape.

Temporary Office Decor Transformations Sometimes, a change of scenery is all it takes to boost creativity and morale in the workplace. Overnight prints offer the opportunity for temporary office decor transformations. From motivational wall art to themed decorations for special occasions, My Printing Matters helps businesses refresh their office environment overnight, fostering a positive and dynamic work atmosphere.

Personalized Event Keepsakes Events and celebrations often call for keepsakes that attendees can cherish. Overnight prints become the solution for creating personalized event keepsakes. Explore the world of customized mementos, from event-specific artwork on canvas to printed merchandise. My Printing Matters ensures that these memorable tokens are ready to be shared with attendees by the end of the event.

Surprise Product Launches The element of surprise can be a powerful marketing tool. Overnight prints enable businesses to execute surprise product launches with flair. Whether it’s teaser posters, sneak peek flyers, or last-minute packaging inserts, My Printing Matters helps businesses create a buzz and generate excitement around unexpected product releases.

Festive Seasonal Decor Installations During festive seasons or special occasions, businesses and individuals often seek to transform their spaces with thematic decor. Overnight prints make it possible to install festive seasonal decor quickly and efficiently. From window displays to office party decorations, My Printing Matters adds a touch of celebration to spaces in the blink of an eye.

My Printing Matters – Where Creativity Meets Speed As the printing landscape evolves, My Printing Matters stands at the forefront, offering more than just business cards. From spontaneous art projects to emergency signage and surprise product launches, our overnight prints unlock a world of possibilities for businesses and creatives alike. Elevate your ideas with My Printing Matters – where creativity meets speed in every print.

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digitalmarkeitng · 1 year

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The Evolution of Digital Marketing: From Traditional to Transformational

In the fast-paced realm of business and technology, adaptation is key to survival. As the world underwent a digital revolution, marketing strategies had to evolve to keep pace with the changing landscape. This evolution from traditional to transformational digital marketing has reshaped the way businesses connect with their audience, and at Marketsie, your premier digital marketing agency in Ahmedabad, we’re here to take you on a journey through this transformative process.

The Traditional Foundations

Cast your mind back a couple of decades – traditional marketing reigned supreme. Strategies were centered around billboards, print advertisements, TV commercials, and radio spots. These methods, while effective in their own right, lacked the precision and personalization that modern audiences demand. But as the internet made its entrance, a new era was born.

Enter Digital Marketing

Digital marketing wasn’t an overnight sensation; it was a gradual integration that turned out to be a game-changer. Initially, it complemented traditional strategies, with banners and pop-ups sharing space with print ads. But even then, it was clear that something revolutionary was underway. The digital landscape provided the means for unprecedented targeting and real-time tracking.

The Rise of Search Engines

One of the earliest digital marketing milestones was the rise of search engines. Google emerged as the digital beacon, and suddenly, search engine optimization (SEO) became the mantra. Businesses realized the power of being at the top of search results – it meant visibility, credibility, and traffic. At Marketsie, we’ve seen this evolution firsthand, adapting our strategies to keep up with the ever-changing search algorithms.

Social Media's Advent

Then came the social media explosion. Platforms like Facebook, Twitter, and later Instagram and LinkedIn, became the new arenas for brand-consumer interactions. This shift marked a turning point in digital marketing – suddenly, engagement and dialogue became just as crucial as the message itself. Marketsie recognized this shift early on, helping businesses navigate the complexities of social media marketing to build meaningful connections.

Content, Engagement, and Beyond

Content emerged as the linchpin of modern digital marketing. Valuable, relevant, and engaging content not only attracted audiences but also established authority. Blogs, videos, infographics – the formats were diverse, but the purpose was singular: to educate, entertain, and entice. At Marketsie, we champion the art of content creation, tailoring each piece to resonate with the target audience.

From Transformational to Holistic

As digital marketing matured, its scope expanded. It was no longer just about a single channel or tactic. It became a holistic ecosystem where various strategies intertwined to create a seamless customer journey. Businesses started investing in a well-rounded online presence, integrating SEO, social media, content marketing, and more. This evolution demanded a more strategic approach, one that considers the bigger picture.

Personalization and Data-Driven Strategies

In the modern era, data reigns supreme. The ability to gather, analyze, and interpret data has transformed digital marketing into a precise science. Businesses can now personalize their campaigns, delivering tailored messages to specific segments of their audience. At Marketsie, we understand that data isn’t just numbers – it’s insights that drive strategies towards success.

The Future: AI, Automation, and Beyond

As we stand on the cusp of the future, new technologies promise to redefine digital marketing once again. Artificial Intelligence (AI) and automation are poised to take personalization and efficiency to unprecedented levels. Predictive analytics can guide decision-making, chatbots can provide instant customer support, and AI-powered algorithms can optimize campaigns in real-time.

Conclusion

The evolution of digital marketing has been a remarkable journey – from traditional strategies that cast a wide net to transformational tactics that cater to individual preferences. At Marketsie, we’ve been privileged to witness this evolution firsthand, adapting our strategies to the ever-changing digital landscape. As technology continues to advance, the future of digital marketing is bound to be even more exciting, and we’re here to ensure that your business thrives in this dynamic world. Embrace the transformation with us, and let’s navigate this digital journey together.

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baltimoresignsmiths · 1 year

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Vinyl Sign: You Should Choose For Business

Vinyl signs are tools that transform ordinary surfaces into advertising and communication mediums. They are inexpensive, versatile, long-lasting, easy to work with, customizable, and visually appealing.

Below are some of the most common vinyl signage solutions that you can choose from.

Vinyl Decals for Windows

If you want to maximize the primary advertising space of your establishment, you have to invest in window decals. They typically display business hours, logos, company names, slogans, festive decorations, special promos, new product releases, signature services, and brand-related designs.

Vinyl Stickers for Walls

These signs are perfect for adding touches of branding to any space. They are also great for displaying directional cues, room identification, safety reminders, and seasonal decor. Don’t be afraid to get creative with them so that your clients can get a sense of your brand voice.

Reusable Vinyl Banners

Tradeshows and similar corporate events offer a lot of opportunities for businesses, such as lead conversion and greater brand exposure. If you want to get ahead of the competition, attract the right audience, and make meaningful connections, you have to be equipped with portable and reusable vinyl banners.

Floor Graphics

These signs are ideal for indicating social distancing cues, wayfinding information, and other practical details that customers are interested in learning about. Sometimes, these custom vinyl signs in Baltimore, MD, are utilized to solidify your brand in a non-intrusive manner.

Murals

Do you want to improve the ambiance of your facility overnight? If so, you have to invest in custom vinyl signs in Baltimore, MD. Let’s say you own a play school for small children. Our team can

incorporate familiar cartoon characters, cute doodles, and other child-friendly designs into the murals to create a fun and inviting space for them. It's a great way to keep everyone in your building engaged with your workspace.

Full Vehicle Wraps

Are you looking for a creative way to reach more potential customers? These vinyl signs transform regular cars into mobile billboards that boost brand visibility and impact with little effort on your end. If you opt for full wraps, the large ad space and graphics will certainly draw a lot of attention in the streets of Baltimore.

Partial Vinyl Sign Printing for Vehicles

If you are on a tighter budget but still want to reap the benefits of vehicle advertising, you can get partial wraps instead. These signs are installed in specific areas of the car, such as the hood and door panels.

Vinyl Decals for Cars

These are perfect for entrepreneurs who simply want branded vehicles to gain the trust of their clients. These vinyl stickers are also used for indicating your address, contact information, and other important business details.

Best Manufacturer of Floor Graphics, Murals, and All Vinyl Signs in Baltimore

Baltimore Signsmiths is committed to producing high-quality visual communication solutions for a wide variety of businesses in the area. As a full-service company, we will make sure to expertly design, fabricate, and install your signage investments.

If you want to learn more about our complex vinyl sign printing services, give us a call today!

Source: https://baltimoresignsmiths.com/vinyl-sign-you-should-choose-for-business

#vinyl signs near me #vinyl company near me #vinyl sign company near me

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maduresnagra · 4 months

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Explore cost-effective banner printing options that deliver high-quality signage without the hefty price tag. Perfect for businesses looking to make a big impact on a budget.

#same day banner printing #new york banner #banner stand new york #overnight banner printing #vinyl banner printing nyc #custom flags nyc #banner stands nyc #same day banner printing near me

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shuadotcom · 3 years

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I Just Want You for My Own | KSJ

❅ Summary: You and Seokjin have been best friends and inseparable since elementary school. You’ve done nearly everything together and he’s always been like a brother to you. It isn’t until Seokjin tells you that he’s marrying his longtime girlfriend around Christmastime, that you realize your feelings for him run deeper than friendship. Of course, this means you have to try to stop the wedding, or you fear you’ll lose him forever.

❅ Pairing: Seokjin x Female!Reader

❅ Genre/AU: Angst, humor(?), some fluff here and there, unrequited love au, friends to (not)lovers au (more like realizing you want to be friends to lovers)

❅ Rating: PG-15

❅ Warnings: Profanity, alcohol consumption, heartbreak, y/n is not a totally likeable character and that’s okay!!

❅ Words: 12.4k

❅ A/N: Here she is! My fic for A Winter Wedding Season, part of the Christmas in July collab! The movie inspo for this was My Best Friend’s Wedding (1997) and this fic is very loosely based on it. Loosely being the operative word lol. I didn’t watch the movie I just read the synopsis and got a feel for it. Thank you so much @birbdae for being my beta!! You are truly a lifesaver. And thank you again to the lovely @kookdiaries for making all of the amazing banners for everyone’s fics!

❅ Taglist: @bangtanhome, @kithtaehyung, @moonchild1, @afangirllikeme-blog

“Hani, I’m home!” You call through your apartment, kicking your heels off by the front door.

Your roommate pokes her head into the foyer, hair up and sheet mask on. “Y/n! Home already? I thought for sure you’d be going to work from your date’s house in the morning.” Even with a panda-printed mask covering her face, you can tell she’s wiggling her eyebrows.

You sigh and let your overnight bag drop to the floor and go to flop onto the couch, admiring the spread of chips and popcorn on the coffee table. “Yeah, me too, but then things got weird. He asked if I wanted to go back to his place after dinner, and I said yeah. I was all for it because he’s hot as fuck, plus we really clicked throughout the night. But then, he started talking about how his roommates were back at his apartment and they’d probably be there the whole time if I was cool with that. The way he said it made it obvious what he wanted.”

“I’m sorry, on the first date he asked if you wanted to be in an orgy?!” Hani screeches, plopping next to you.

“Yes! And like, yeah he’s good-looking, but it’s the first date! And when I told him no he had the audacity to get an attitude and stopped talking to me while we waited for the check. As soon as he paid, he barely said bye before he left the restaurant.”

“What a weirdo,” Hani muses.

“Yeah. Needless to say, I deleted his number on the way home.”

You grab a handful of chips from the table, shoving them angrily in your mouth. At that moment, you and Hani hear keys jingling, followed by the door opening.

“Hani! I am now entering the apartment!” Seokjin’s voice rings out and you and Hani both laugh.

“It’s safe to enter!” She calls back. Ever since the time Seokjin accidentally barged in and caught a glimpse of Hani naked from the shower, he formally announces when he comes over.

“I was looking for my - oh, hey Y/n. I didn’t think you’d be here.” He’s surprised to see you, glancing at his watch as he greets you. “I thought you were on a date with the guy from your office. Soonyoung, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah! Soonyoung from work!” He interrupts, answering his own question. “He’s the one that’s the fashion reviewer at your blog, right?”

“Yeah -“

“The one who you kept gushing over because he’s so cute and talented and funny?” Seokjin’s mocking tone flusters you, so you send a chip towards his face in retaliation. “Hey!”

“As I was just explaining to Hani before you barged in, he ended up being weird so it didn’t work out.”

“Weird how?”

“He wanted to bring her home and have an orgy with his roommates,” Hani answers before you can.

“Wow. Wonder how long he’s wanted to ask you that.” Seokjin chuckles, wedging himself on the couch next to you.

“Probably too long. Either way, I’m done dating for now. Everyone I’ve met this year has been the worst.”

Seokjin pats your leg sympathetically and reaches forward for a handful of popcorn. “I’m sorry, Y/n. Don’t give up! I’m sure eventually you’ll find your person. It wasn’t easy for me to find Sunmi. It took me date after date before we met.”

That’s the only setup Seokjin needs to talk about his girlfriend of nearly three years. You’ve been best friends with Seokjin since you were 13, and as long as you’ve known him, the two of you have had similar dating woes. You’ve been on dates and been in short-term relationships that all turned out not to be ideal or long-lasting. The two of you even went as far as to make a pact that if you weren’t married by 30, then you’d marry each other.

It wasn’t until Seokjin met Lee Sunmi on a dating app that his long string of failed relationships ended. You were skeptical of it at first, thinking she’d be like all of the other people he’d dated, but she’s different. She’s sweet, funny, smart, and isn’t weird about you being Seokjin’s best friend, like a lot of other women he’s been with were. It’s weird that they’ve been together as long as they have, but he seems happy.

Unfortunately, you haven’t been as lucky. While Seokjin and Sunmi are the perfect couple, you’ve found yourself on more failed dates than you can count. You almost thought you found the right person in your ex but turns out he was cheating on you, so that was a bust. Tonight was simply another dud of a date on your laundry list.

“Alright, Seokjin, enough about your perfect relationship!” You cut in as he continues to go on. “Why did you come over anyway? Didn’t you say you were looking for something?”

“Oh, yeah! I need my lucky tie. Tomorrow is my and Sunmi’s anniversary and I need it.”

“Ah, it’s in my room, let me go grab it.” You jump up and head down the hall to your room, rifling through your closet before you find his tie. Seokjin’s had it since he was 18 and was wearing it when he got into college, when he won tickets to a Bruno Mars concert, when he got a promotion at work, and on his first date with Sunmi. Since then, the tie was deemed lucky.

Knowing this, you borrowed it when you were waiting on a promotion of your own, and sure enough, you were promoted to a senior writer at the entertainment blog you write for.

“Thanks,” Seojin says through a mouthful of popcorn and takes the tie from you.

“So what’s the plan for the anniversary? Anything special for three years?” You ask, taking your seat on the couch again.

“Well, I’m taking her to Seoul Tower for dinner then we’ll just kind of wing the rest of the night, honestly.”

“Hmm, that doesn’t sound like you have much of a concrete plan,” Hani says earning her a glare from Seokjin.

“Hey, I have a plan, okay? Go back to your sheet mask.”

“You’re in my apartment, Kim. If I wanna be a smartass, I will.”

“While you two have fun arguing like kids, I’m going to go shower and get ready for bed.” You announce.

“And I’m going home before your roommate kicks me out.” He sticks his tongue out at Hani who returns the childish gesture. “Oh, Y/n, tomorrow after you get off work, can you stop by my apartment? I may need your help figuring out the finishing touches on what to wear with this tie.” Seokjin calls as he’s halfway out the front door.

“Sure! I’ll text you when I’m on my way!”

Hani waits until Seokjin is gone to ask, “Since when does he need your help getting dressed? Seokjin is like, the most fashionable guy I know.”

You shrug. “It’s a big date. He’s probably doing that thing where he freaks out and gets all in his head. I used to have to help him in high school before dances because he’d get so freaked.”

The next afternoon, sitting on Seokjin’s bed, surrounded by a mountain of clothes, you find that you were right. As soon as you’d stepped next door into his apartment, he grabbed you, dragging you to his closet to help him pick an outfit for him and Sunmi’s anniversary date.

You’d been at it for almost an hour, as Seokjin would display one outfit after another to you to get your opinion. Each one was either much too casual, much too dressy, or simply didn’t go together.

“Don’t you think you’re going a bit overboard? I mean, at this point in the relationship, she’s pretty much seen everything you’ve worn, right?” A black button-up comes flying at you, and you barely manage to duck out of the way.

“This is different Y/n. It’s our anniversary.”

“It’s your third anniversary, meaning you’ve had two others already and she’s still here.” You’re not trying to shit on this special day, Seokjin just has a habit of being dramatic, so you’re trying to reel him back in.

He pops out of the closet, holding up a navy blue suit and a white button-down. He gives you an inquisitive look and after examining the outfit for a few seconds you nod, giving him a thumbs up. He drapes the winning outfit over his computer chair and comes over to sit on the bed next to you.

“Y/n, I have to tell you something, but you can’t tell anyone until I say, okay?” His tone is uncharacteristically serious which makes you uneasy.

“Okay…”

Taking a deep breath, Seokjin reaches over to root through his nightstand, pulling out a black velvet box. Your breath hitches as he opens the box, revealing a ring with a silver band, sporting a sizable, pear-shaped diamond in the middle.

“I’m going to propose to Sunmi tonight.”

As soon as Seokjin pulled the ring box out, you knew that’s what he was going to say, but hearing it out loud is different. You know you’re gaping at the ring, mouth open and no response coming out. This is mostly because you don’t know what your response should be. The knowledge of Seokjin proposing to marry someone has you feeling a slew of foreign emotions that you can’t pinpoint.

“Hello? Earth to Y/n. Say something, please!” Seokjin snaps the ring box closed, clutching it to his chest. “Should I not do it? Do you think it’s too soon? How likely is she to say no? Oh, fuck I’m an idiot, right? This is a terrible idea.”

Seeing your best friend have a meltdown in front of you, brings you out of the clusterfuck that is your brain and you reach out to grab his hand.

“Hey, Seokjin, look at me.” When he does you see how frantic he looks. “I think that… I think Sunmi will say yes. She seems to really love you, and I know she knows you love her just as much. I think you should do it.” Every word that leaves your lips feels wrong and like a lie, but you say it anyway.

“Really?” His brown eyes are wide, full of hope as he asks and your heart clenches at the sight, for a multitude of reasons.

“Really.”

A smile blooms on his face as he reaches forward to hug you and you return the gesture half-heartedly.

“Thanks, Y/n. You’re the best. You know I can’t do this without you.” He pulls back, giving you a wide smile, which you all of a sudden find makes his face even more handsome.

He nearly leaps off of the bed after letting you go. “I’m gonna go shower and get ready. You can stick around if you want.” He says, grabbing the suit and his lucky tie.

“Um, I think I’ll go home actually. I had a long day and I’m tired.”

“Ah, okay. Well, I’ll text you later and let you know how it goes!”

“Cool,” is all you manage to mumble as you snatch your bag from the floor and head for the front door.

Seokjin’s college and current roommate Yoongi is sprawled on the couch flipping through tv channels when you walk into the living room.

“Hey, Y/n. I didn’t know you were here.”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, I got here when you were showering.”

“Let me guess, he made you go through his entire closet with him for an outfit?”

“Yeah, how’d you know?”

“He’s been talking for weeks about how he didn’t know what to wear. When I offered, would you believe he looked me up and down and said ‘no offense Yoongi, but I planned on asking Y/n’ and that was it!” Yoongi rolls his eyes, then seems to notice something is off. “What’s wrong?”

“What do you mean what’s wrong?” You ask, still moving towards the front door.

“You just look off.” Yoongi eyes you suspiciously, so you turn away to stick your feet into your flats.

“I’m just tired is all. Work was rough.”

Yoongi hums. “Seokjin told me about the creep from your office that you went out with last night. Did you see him today?”

You had forgotten all about the awkward encounter you and Soonyoung had in the supply room earlier. You were looking for new pens when he walked in. You both froze, you with a handful of pens in hand and him with his foot in midair, about to step in. Neither of you said anything as you finally moved, breezing past him to go back to your desk. You planned to tell Seokjin about it until his announcement.

“Yeah, it wasn’t great.” You shrug, both shoes finally on and your hand on the doorknob.

“Ouch, sorry Y/n. If he acts like a weird asshole again, let me know and I’ll take you to work one day to see him.” Yoongi’s words succeed in making you smile momentarily. You like Yoongi, having gotten to know him considerably well in the 4 years he’s been friends with Seokjin, but you’re just itching to go home and figure out what’s going on in your head.

“I appreciate that, Yoongi. I’ll see you around.” You send him a wave and are out the door before he can ask you anything else.

Luckily, Hani isn’t home when you step into your apartment so you beeline for the shower, trying to salvage your alone time and figure out what the fuck is wrong with you. Your best friend of basically 15 years just told you that he’s going to propose to the woman he loves and you don’t feel an ounce of excitement.

You didn’t get giddy, you didn’t scream and you didn’t congratulate him. You sat in front of him, looking confused and probably a little bit stupid. What the fuck is that about?

When the text from Seokjin comes in later that night, telling you that Sunmi said yes, you blink at your phone and don’t respond. It’s nearly eleven, so he’ll think you’re sleeping and didn’t see it.

Hours alone with your thoughts this evening have affirmed an important, possibly life-shattering realization: you’re in love with Kim Seokjin.

You didn’t get excited when he told you he was proposing because your heart was aching at the idea that Seokjin was getting married and it wasn’t to you. Your best friend, the man who you once watched play Maple Story for 48 hours straight, not showering and peeing in a bottle when he was 16, had somehow stolen your heart and affection for him, and it takes you until you’re nearly 30 to realize it.

At first, you don’t think this makes sense. You and Seokjin have always been open with one another about your dates, relationships, and hookups. He dabbled in his fair share of experimentation in college in his very early twenties and he always told you about his escapades. You never felt jealous and it didn’t bother you when he told you. Hell, when he first started dating Sunmi it didn’t bother you either. He’s happy and she’s nice and fun to be around.

Taking all of that into account, why the fuck is the idea of him getting married literally breaking your heart? Why does the thought of seeing him walk down the aisle make you want to vomit and break into tears? You spent all night locked in your room when the realization about your true feelings dawned on you, turning Hani away, stating you were feeling sick with a possible stomach bug. You slept on and off, but when Seokjin’s text hit, sleep didn’t come back to you for the rest of the night. Only a deep-seated sadness overcomes you, making you miserable all night.

The pain you feel about Seokjin getting married burrows itself deeper the next morning. You’re only awake for fifteen minutes, spending all that time staring at the ceiling, when Seokjin bursts into your room, startling you.

“Get up, Y/n! You slept through the news!”

“What?” You croak, voice still gravelly from sleep and the intermittent crying spells you had last night.

“This is big news! Where’s the other one that lives here?” He demands, stepping into the hallway to find Hani.

“I’m right here, Seokjin. I heard you screeching as soon as you barged into my apartment.” Hani comes into the room, towel around her hair and robe cinched around her waist.

You already know what he’s going to say, so you brace yourself as best as you can to hear the news in person.

“Sunmi and I are getting married!” He yells.

“Wow, congratulations!” Hani says immediately. “That’s why you were so anal about what you wanted to wear.

“Yeah and thanks to Y/n, she was so smitten with my suit, I took her breath away and she said yes on the spot.” He flashes you a smile, which drops when he notices how you didn’t react at all to his announcement. “Y/n, are you okay?”

“She isn’t feeling well,” Hani answers, “she’s been feeling sick since last night.”

You nod, not trusting yourself to speak.

“Oh damn, sorry Y/n. Do you need anything?” You shake your head. “Okay, well let me know if you do. And make sure you feel better by next weekend for the engagement party!” Seokjin flashes you a smile and heads out, citing he has lots of things to take care of before the party.

Hani waits until you both hear the front door open and close before she turns to look at you, expression serious.

“You’re not sick.” She says simply.

“What?” Your voice is strained and you know she hears it.

“You don’t have to lie to me, Y/n.”

“I’m not -”

“Y/n. I may not have as many years of friendship under my belt with you as Seokjin does, but I know you well enough to know when you’re lying. He may be too excited to notice, but I do, and you’re not a good liar.”

“Hani…”

“Did something happen with Soonyoung at work?”

“No.”

“Did you get into a fight with someone else? Or your mom or -”

“Hani, I’m in love with Seokjin.”

Your roommate swiftly closes her mouth at that and blinks a few times. “Wait, was that a secret? I thought you already knew and were just chilling in the friend zone?” She chuckles, but the laughter dies down when she sees a few tears falling from your eyes. “Oh no, Y/n.” Hani rushes over to hug you, letting you cry on her shoulder.

Once you cry more than you would’ve liked, you tell Hani all about the revelation you had last night. She listens as you go on about how new and confusing and scary this is for you. How you don’t understand why you feel so heartbroken and jealous, but you know it’s because you love Seokjin.

“Well, if you wanna know what I think,” Hani starts after you’ve expended all your energy saying the same things over and over again. “I think you finally realized you’re in love with him because you’re seeing the one true time that he’ll be unattainable to you. You’ve both had a lot of relationships and they haven’t been too serious, but now that he’s getting married, which is as serious of a relationship you can have, you’ve realized your feelings and that he won’t just be the best friend you secretly love that’ll always be there. Plus, this puts a halt to your marry each other by 30 plan. You’re trying to process a lot right now, Y/n.”

You stare back at her, eyebrows furrowing as you absorb her words. “Wow. Since when the hell did you get so in touch with other people’s feelings, Dr. Ahn?”

“Right?! I’ve been listening to a lot of psychology podcasts lately and I think it’s paying off! Maybe I should go to school for it?”

“But didn’t you drop out of college?”

“Hey, I can have a career change if I want! Maybe I don’t want to be an assistant forever. I’m sure you don’t want to review music for someone else’s blog for the rest of your life.” Hani teases.

“Ugh, I don’t know! I can’t handle all these epiphanies at the same time!” You groan, your mind still reeling about Seokjin.

“Sorry, sorry! I think, for now, you really need to think about your next steps. Are you going to just suffer and watch him get married or are you going to talk to him about this?”

“I can’t just tell him! He’s so happy, Hani!” You screech, louder than intended.

“Alright, Y/n let’s just drop it then so you can try and calm down. All I’ll say is, I’m sure he won’t be happy to know his best friend in the whole world has been miserable for the rest of her life because of him.”

She’s right. Seokjin cares too much about your feelings to be okay with you being unhappy because of him. Any fight the two of you have ever gotten into, he’s always first to apologize to make you stop being upset.

But this is different. This isn’t an argument over something trivial like him seeing a movie you wanted to see without you or you breaking one of his figurines. This is about you being in love with him after years of doing everything together. You don’t have a single clue how to even approach this.

You do nothing but go through the motions of working, eating, and sleeping the following week. Each day that gets closer to Saturday has you stressed in anticipation of Seokjin’s engagement party.

On Wednesday, your cubicle neighbor and work husband, Namjoon, is the first person outside of Hani to notice something is wrong.

“Okay, talk to me,” Namjoon demands, rolling his chair into your cubicle.

You glance up from the blank word doc on your screen at his voice. “What?”

“You’ve been off all week. I wanted to give you space and let you figure it out or come to me, but I’m inserting myself now. What’s going on?”

“I, uh, why do you think something is going on?”

Namjoon is unamused. “Other than the fact that we’ve worked together for 3 years so I know when something is wrong and other than the fact that you’re a bad liar, you’ve been staring at your blank screen for 10 minutes. You’re supposed to be writing a review for the new Rihanna album, whom you love, so this article should already be the length of a Harry Potter novel. So, I’ll say again, talk to me.”

Namjoon is always so kind and genuine to you. You resist the urge to cry and are honest with him. “Seokjin is engaged.” Is all you say, deciding to withhold information about why this is a big deal to you.

“Oh shit, Y/n I’m so sorry.” Namjoon pulls you into a hug, squeezing you tight. “I guess he never found out your feelings?” This has you pulling back to look at him.

“What did you just say?” You gasp.

“What?”

“You said he never found out how I felt?”

“Well yeah, like he never found out you love him?”

“I- ”

“Psst, Y/n?” Your head snaps up at the sound of your name. Your other two co-workers who sit directly around you are both poking their heads over your cubicle walls.

“Sorry, we didn’t mean to eavesdrop,” Jihyo whispers. “But we could hear you. I’m so sorry.” She pouts at you, genuine sympathy on her face.

“Yeah, I can’t imagine what this feels like and I’m sorry too,” Taehyung adds.

You exchange looks with the two of them, then Namjoon, all of them concerned. “Are you serious? How the fuck does everyone know I’m in love with Seokjin?”

They all share looks of their own.

“Y/n, come on. We can all tell,” Jihyo starts. “You always bring either him or your roommate to work events, but it’s typically Seokjin more often than not.”

“And the way you look at him and act with him is much different than your roomie,” Taehyung adds.

“Plus remember, I’ve hung out with you all outside of work and I mean… yeah it’s pretty obvious, Y/n.” Namjoon finishes the group explanation.

You’re speechless at this. If everyone around you can tell your true feelings for Seokjin before even you had, does this mean he also knows?

You voice this out loud by accident and Namjoon shakes his head. “Nah I doubt it. He’s cool but pretty oblivious.” He takes your hand in his, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles. “But seriously, I’m sorry. Let me know if there’s anything you need, okay?”

Still, in awe and a little mortified, you thank him. It’s almost comical that so many people around you have been more in tune with your feelings than you. This fact sticks with you through the week and into Saturday, right as you and Hani are joining the other party-goers at Seokjin and Yoongi’s apartment.

You barely try and conceal your bad mood as you greet mutual friends and people Seokjin knows from work. Soon enough you find Seokjin and Sunmi on the couch, chatting with some people Seokjin knows from college.

“Ah, Y/n is finally here!” He announces, causing half the room to turn their attention to you. Sheepishly, you return the sweeping hug he pulls you into. When he lets you go, Sunmi is right behind him, smiling at you.

“I’m glad you could make it, Y/n. Seokjin said you were sick last weekend.”

“Oh, yeah, I was. I’m feeling much better now.”

“Good!” She hugs you too, and you’re reminded how much of a nice person Sunmi is, which makes your inner turmoil so much worse.

“Well, I think now’s as good a time as any to formally do this,” Seokjin says, looking to Sunmi for her guidance and she nods. He clears his throat loud enough to get everyone’s attention and the chattering stops.”Hi everyone, thank you all for coming today. I’ll keep this simple since we all know why we’re here; Sunmi and I are getting married!” He grabs her hand and holds it in the air, the couple beaming at the applause.

“We’ve already set a date of December 23rd, so Seokjin and I can spend our first Christmas together as a married couple.” More applause to Sunmi’s words, while your attempt at doing so is lackluster. As if the universe wasn’t being cruel to you as it is. Not only is the man you love getting married, but he’s getting married so close to Christmas that you won’t get to spend your favorite holiday with him. Something you’ve done every year you’ve been friends. This somehow hurts even more

“I know it seems fast, but Sunmi and I know this is what we want, so why wait? This gives us the next 2 months to get prepared, but I don’t think that’ll be a problem for us to handle.”

After his announcement, Seokjin tells everyone to enjoy the party and disperses his guests to do their own thing. You take this chance to slip away from the crowd and duck into the kitchen. There’s no one there, so you take the opportunity to grab an empty cup from the counter and a bottle of wine from the fridge, pouring yourself a generous amount and drinking half of it in one go.

You’re not sure how long you’ve been hiding in the kitchen, but at some point, you’re propped on the counter, cup in hand and phone in the other.

A sudden voice makes you jump, but you let out a breath when you see who it is.

“Are you gonna keep hiding in the kitchen all night?” Yoongi asks, joining you on the counter.

“Maybe. The snacks and the booze are here so, why not?” You shrug, throwing back the remainder of your drink.

Yoongi eyes you suspiciously, watching as you reach for the bottle of wine next to you and empty it into your cup. “You know, I’m not as dense as Seokjin. I know you’re in love with him.”

You don’t even react other than giving an eye roll and half-assed jazz hands. “Congratulations, join the damn club. Hani knew too apparently. And Namjoon. And my co-workers. Everyone that knows me knows I’m in love with Kim Seokjin except me until he said he was getting married. Now it’s too late and I get to watch my lifelong best friend go out, get married, and start a whole new life without me.”

“Is it though?”

“Is it what?”

“Is it too late?

“I mean, yeah, kind of. We’re at his engagement party.”

Yoongi shrugs. “I’m a firm believer in it never being too late to go after what you really want.”

You take a moment to mull over Yoongi’s words. Sure, Seokjin is engaged, but it’s not the same as truly being married. The only thing binding him and Sunmi together right now, aside from a three-year relationship, is an engagement ring. They didn’t have the ceremony yet, and that’s not even for a couple of months. Yoongi’s right. It’s not too late.

“I knew I kept you around for a reason, Min.” You compliment, squeezing his thigh before sliding off of the kitchen counter.

“Thanks, I think?” He watches you adjust your dress then take a big swig from your cup. “Are you going to tell him how you feel tomorrow?”

“What? No, I’m not doing that. I just need to sabotage the wedding so it doesn’t happen.”

“Wait, what? Y/n, that’s not what I meant.”

“Hey, I know what I’m doing Yoongi. I just have to mess some stuff up with the wedding, and Seokjin will get so exhausted that he’ll think the universe is telling him not to marry Sunmi. Then I’ll swoop in, console him, and boom, no more marriage.”

“But, Y/n -”

“It’s perfect, I already know where to start. See you later, Yoongi!” You send him a wave as you waltz into the living room, playing the happy best friend for the rest of the night until you can put your plan in motion.

It turns out, sabotaging a wedding is harder than movies make it seem. Most of what you see on the internet when you Google it gives you plenty of ways to ruin it once it’s the day of or even at the reception, but you need to stop it before it even starts.

You contemplate asking someone, but decide to keep your upcoming actions to yourself. Hani will only lecture you on how wrong what you’re doing is. Yoongi is staying neutral because he’s Seokjin’s friend, but he’s also yours and knows how you feel. You’d tell Namjoon, but somehow, someway, your co-workers will find out and you know there are some judgemental people at the office and you don’t want to deal with that.

This leaves you, plotting by yourself on what you could fuck up first.

The answer to this comes a few days after the engagement party. You, the happy couple, Hani, and Yoongi are out at dinner. They tell you all that the wedding venue they’re looking at is already decided on. They offer all-inclusive packages that cover the flowers, dinnerware, food, and music, so all of the work is taken out of it.

“Where is it?” You ask as casually as possible. Yoongi shoots you a look from across the table, but you ignore it.

“A place called Loft Garden!” Sunmi says, whipping out her phone. “It’s super nice and is one of the only places that had anything open around the date that we wanted.” She shows you the website, and you quickly make a mental note of the name.

“I guess your date is popular?” you question.

“Apparently, so. I’m just glad we were able to book it.”

“Yeah, that’s great!” You smile too hard, and Hani is now the one giving you a look, but this is more of confusion.

Once you’re home, Hani predictably asks you why you were so enthusiastic about the wedding all of a sudden, considering your feelings, but you make an excuse and say that you’re just trying to be helpful. She doesn’t believe you and goes to ask another question, but you make an excuse and hurry to your room.

A couple of days later, you finally decide to go through with your first idea which is to cancel the venue. If there’s no venue, there’s no wedding, so this makes sense.

You duck out to the bathroom of your office, calling the number of the venue after Googling it.

“Loft Garden, this is Minyoung, how can I help you?”

“Hi, um, my name is Lee Sunmi. I just booked my wedding with you guys, on December 23rd.”

“One moment please.” There’s only a small beat of silence before the woman is back on the phone. “Yes, I see it here. What can I do for you, Ms. Lee?”

“I need to cancel the booking, actually.”

“Oh no! I’m sorry to hear that. Is everything alright?”

“Yes, we’ll just be canceling.”

“Alright, well I’ll get that canceled and send you the cancellation confirmation email.”

“Thank you.” You end the call first, letting out a deep breath. A small pang of guilt hits the pit of your stomach but is quickly replaced by the realization that maybe you can actually stop this.

Seokjin calls you later that day, yelling about how the venue fucked up and canceled their date, claiming someone called on behalf of Sunmi to cancel it.

“Maybe they double booked or something and are trying to blame it on you guys?”

“Psht, I should leave them a bad review for this.”

“Eh, they’re not worth it. I’m sure you’ll find another venue.” You say it, remembering what they mentioned about there being hardly any venues with openings for their wedding date.

Unfortunately, this doesn’t pan out the way you intend, since apparently, Sunmi was able to find another venue in a matter of days. This one is smaller but still nice. This puts you back to square one, making you panic since the end of October is only a week away which means you’re that much closer to the wedding. You’re almost unable to come up with another plan until you remember you and Hani’s annual Halloween party coming up.

You typically bring a date with you, and Seokjin has never batted an eye, but maybe seeing you with someone else will have the same impact on him that the engagement has had on you. He’ll see you with someone that isn’t him and realize he’s making a mistake by marrying Sunmi because that means he’ll never be with you.

The only problem is, you’re not dating anyone right now. You obviously can’t bring Yoongi and claim you’re together all of a sudden. You can’t ask Namjoon because you’ve both made it clear in the past that you don't have those feelings for each other and you can’t ask Taehyung or Jihyo because you don’t think Seokjin will buy it at all, having met them before.

You’re close to trying an escort service until you see the new receptionist that started a couple of months ago.

“Good morning, Y/n!” Jimin chirps when he sees you come into the office. Jimin is sweet and extremely handsome, plus Seokjin hasn’t met him yet. This, you can make work.

“Hey, Jimin! My roommate and I are having our annual Halloween party next week, and I wanted to know if you’d like to come?”

“I’d love to!” He smiles at you, and you almost feel bad about your intentions.

“Great! Can I talk to you at lunch about it some more?” You ask and he nods.

Inviting him is easier than asking him to pretend to be your boyfriend. At first, he’s confused and says no, but you beg him, telling him that you need to make your engaged best friend jealous. You don’t tell him all the details, and maybe he takes pity on you, but he finally agrees.

“Okay, so what’s the plan again?” Jimin asks when he arrives at your apartment the day of the party. You adjust the black tie of his costume, then smooth out the rest of his pinstripe suit.

“Just hold my hand and act couple-y with me when he gets here, okay?” You straighten out your long black wig, eye scanning the room of party go-ers in search of Seokjin. Right on cue, you see him and Sunmi enter the front door. Seokjin in his large red hat, Mario ‘M’ on full display, and Sunmi in the signature Princess Peach pink dress and cornflower blonde wig. “There they are!” You tap Jimin who turns around to look.

“Where?”

“Mario and Peach.”

It takes him a second, but then he sees them, and as if Seokjin knows you’re looking, his eyes meet yours. He smiles before frowning, seeing you close to Jimin, with your hands resting on the lapels of his blazer.

“Okay, Jimin, remember, we’ve been dating for three weeks, we met at work, and you asked me out.”

Jimin nods, his hands slipping around your waist to pull you close to him, making you squeak. Jimin is even cuter up close, but you don’t feel much for him, other than surface-level attraction. Your mind flips back to Seokjin as soon as this thought pops into your head and he consumes your thoughts once again until you hear his voice from beside you.

“Oh!” You startle, turning to face him and Sunmi. “Hey, guys! I thought that was you two but I wasn’t sure.”

“We almost didn’t recognize you,” Sunmi says, surveying you and Jimin’s costumes. “Morticia and Gomez Addams, right?”

“Yep!” You chirp, smoothing out your black, mermaid style dress.

“And who is this?” Seokjin asks, eyes surveying Jimin from head to toe.

“This is Jimin! He started working at my office a couple of months ago. He’s our new receptionist.”

“And why am I just now meeting him?” Seokjin huffs. You can’t tell if it’s jealousy or a fit at simply not knowing about it as your best friend.

“Well you’ve been so busy with the wedding, I haven’t had the time to introduce you.” You shrug.

“And, we’ve only been dating for about three weeks. But, she’s told me all about you; Seokjin, right?” Jimin adds.

“Yeah, that’s me, her best friend.”

“Well, it’s great to meet you. And you’re his fianceé Sunmi, I take it?” He sends a smile Sunmi’s way and she nods, returning the expression.

You’re all silent before you take Jimin’s hand in yours. “We’re gonna go dance!” You leave before they can object and lead Jimin to the dancefloor which is just your living room with all of the furniture out of the way.

You put his hands back on your hips, dancing as close as you can as Thriller plays. You figure since Seokjin just met him, it’s possible he’s still looking at you, so you want to keep him looking.

Turning around, you back into Jimin, letting him grip your body and hold you against him. You almost forget about Seokjin’s eyes possibly on you and let yourself have a little fun, but only as long as the song is playing.

Once it’s over, you ask Jimin to grab you a drink as you go to the bathroom.

“What’s going on?” Hani demands, popping out and stopping you before you reach the bathroom.

“What do you mean?” You try to get around her, but she stays in your way.

“Y/n, you’ve been distant since Seokjin’s engagement party and I feel like I only see you when we’re both crossing paths for work or the bathroom and you’re always in your room. You barely respond to my text messages besides simple responses, and now you have a guy you’re dating all of a sudden?”

“I… okay fine. I’ve been trying to sabotage Seokjin’s wedding.”

“You what?!” Hani’s shriek catches the attention of a couple of people dressed as crayons nearby.

You pull her down the hall into your bedroom and tell her about your so-called master plan.

“So wait, you canceled the venue and you’re not dating Jimin?” You nod. “Wow. I never would’ve thought you’d do something like this.”

“Like what?”

“Ruin a wedding! Y/n, this is serious. You’re literally on a mission to fuck up your lifelong best friend’s upcoming marriage. This isn’t a good thing.”

“Hani, I know! I know, but I don’t have time to be judged, okay? This is why I didn’t tell you.”

“Hell yes, I’m judging you! Again: you’re. Ruining. Someones. Wedding.”

“Hani, please, you’re my friend. I just need you to let me do this. Hell, I don’t even need support, just let me do what I need to do and I’ll deal with the consequences later.”

Your roommate’s face contorts into discomfort before she lets out a groan. “Fuck, fine. For the record this isn’t okay and I don’t like this, nor will I help, but I won’t say anything.”

“Thank you.”

“Hmmph,” is her response as she leaves the room. You follow her, looking for Jimin, and see him leaning against the wall in the hallway.

“Hey, I was waiting for you.” He hands you a beer and you eagerly crack it open.

“Thanks. I was talking to my roommate. Let’s go back out there.” Jimin takes your hand and follows you back to the party, your eyes searching for Seokjin as soon as you get back to the crowd.

While you swear you felt Seokjin’s eyes on you throughout the rest of the party, nothing else came of having Jimin as your fake date, much to your disappointment. At least you had fun, even if you were distracted most of the night.

When November moves in, most of the month feels like a blur. You attempt to cancel the rescheduled venue, but they require any major changes to be done in person, so that’s a bust. You look nothing like Sunmi so that’s not an option. Seokjin doesn’t bring up Jimin again, and neither do you, so that was a dead plan too.

You’re almost out of ideas until Sunmi calls you over the weekend, asking you to take her to choose her wedding dress. Her car is in the shop, but she also wanted your help anyway. You’re surprised she wants your input, but you think that maybe you can get her to buy a super unflattering dress that she’ll hate.

This doesn’t work exactly, as she already had her top picks ready to choose between and they all look gorgeous on her. Every one of them fits her well, compliments her features, and makes her look like a princess. Your jealousy level spikes, just telling her to get the strapless one with the a-line silhouette.

She’s so pretty, smart, and basically perfect. She’s everything you’re not and once she marries Seokjin, everything will change. No more midnight movie marathons, no more being each other’s friend-dates to events, no more holidays together. He’ll be with his new wife, making a new life, and leaving you behind.

Sunmi must notice how low your mood dips because she suggests grabbing lunch, and as much as you don’t really want to, you go with her to be nice. You suppose it’s the least you can do for wishing ill on her upcoming marriage.

She goes on and on about the wedding throughout the meal and you’re not even paying attention, too busy mourning your friendship. At some point, Sunmi begins laughing more and you notice she has three empty glasses next to her plate.

“How many drinks have you had?” You ask, getting a giggle in return.

“I don’t know,” she sing-songs. “I don’t usually drink.”

You can’t help but chuckle. You had no idea she was this much of a lightweight. “Maybe you’ve had enough then.”

“You know, Y/n. I’ve always been so jealous of you.” You blink back in shock.

“What?”

“You’re just so close with Seokjin, you know? I feel like he’s 110% himself when he’s with you. I think I get like 80-90% of him and that was only in the last year maybe. I think he’s trying to be what he thinks is perfect for me, but it’s different than the way he laughs and jokes with you.”

“Sunmi, we’ve been friends all our lives. He may be a little different with me, but he loves you.”

“Yeah, I know, but still.” She pouts. “Y/n, do you like Seokjin?”

You choke on air at her question, panic overtaking you. “W-why do you think that?”

“I just need to know, do I need to worry about you? Be honest!” Sunmi reaches across the table grasping your hands.

Fuck. Drunk or not you can’t tell her you like him. It can only go poorly, so you meet her eyes and simply say, “no.”

She’s quiet, not saying anything before smiling at you. “Good.” Her face drops then. “But is this wedding a good idea?”

You perk up at that question. “Why do you say that?”

“I don’t know. I’ve been so stressed all day. Dress shopping was nice but am I ready? Is Seokjin ready? Are we moving too fast?”

Without hesitation, you grab her hand again, already knowing what to say. “Hey, I don’t want to tell you what to do, but doubt isn’t good. You should only get married if you’re 100% sure.”

“You think so?”

“For sure. It’s a big life change you know? You should be ready.”

Sunmi nods, an unreadable emotion dancing in her eyes.

You drive her home then, dropping her off, and making sure she’s okay before heading home yourself. You’re lying if you say you don’t feel a sick sense of accomplishment from your conversion with her.

That accomplishment stays around when barely an hour later, Seokjin comes barging into your apartment. You’re on the couch looking for something to watch when he comes barreling in, workout gear on, and one of the most stressed expressions you’ve seen him wear.

“Sunmi just called me and said she’s not going to marry me!”

Feigning shock, you look at him wide-eyed. “What?”

“Apparently she’s not sure if this is right for her and she isn’t sure if I’m ready.”

He sinks into the couch, hands tugging at his hair.

“Just out of nowhere?”

“Yeah! Did she say anything to you when you guys were out earlier?”

A cough escapes your throat. “No, no, no. She was fine. We just talked and hung out.”

Seokjin hops up and begins pacing. “What am I going to do, Y/n? I don’t know what I did or what happened. She sounded like she was crying and I said I’d come over but she said no and told me not to.”

“I think you should respect her wishes and give her some space. Maybe she’s just getting cold feet?”

“But, Y/n, I love her!” He whines, the sound and the tone in which he says this hurts you.

“I know… maybe just lay low for a bit. Try to de-stress or something. I was just looking for a bad horror movie to put on if you want to join me?” You offer him a smile, waving the remote in the air.

Seokjin sighs and shakes his head. “No thanks. I think I’m going to go shower and take a nap.” He leaves then, head hung low. You can’t help the uncomfortable twist in your stomach at seeing your friend so down, but it mingles with relief at the high possibility that the wedding is actually over with.

It’s the middle of the week before you hear from Seokjin again. You’d tried calling and texting with no response. The day after your lunch with Sunmi, you went next door to check on him, but when Yoongi answered, he told you Seokjin was out. He wasn’t sure where, since he wasn’t answering his calls either. You both even tried to call Sunmi, with no response from her. This doesn’t surprise you though. You and Yoongi are Seokjin’s friends, so if she isn’t with him anymore, why would she talk to you?

You��re about ready to report Seokjin missing when your phone rings. Tossing your work laptop aside, you dive across the bed to answer your phone.

“Hello?!”

“Hey, Y/n,” Seokjin starts.

“Seokjin, where the hell have you been?! I’ve been worried sick!”

“Oh, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I’ve been with Sunmi at her place.”

Your stomach drops. “What?”

“We both had our phones off so we could spend time together and just talk. The wedding is back on. She was getting nervous that day she was out with you, so she drank too much and being the lightweight she is, got too drunk too fast. It made her even more anxious about the wedding and she panicked and called me to break it off. But we’re okay again.” You hear the smile in his voice and it hurts.

“That’s great, Seokjin.” You manage to say.

“Oh! I’ll be home later and I need to grab her wedding dress. She said she left it in the backseat of your car.”

“Sounds good.” You choke out, clearing your throat to cover it.

“Cool. See you later, Y/n.” You hang up without saying goodbye and grab your nearest pillow, muffling a scream. You had been so close to putting a stop to this whole thing.

The wedding is a little less than a month away and at this point, you’re out of ideas.

You take a few minutes to wallow in your self-pity before dragging yourself out of bed and outside to the parking garage where your car is. Snatching Sunmi’s dress up, you stomp back upstairs as a last possible thought comes to mind.

Rushing to the elevator and up to your floor, you sprint into your room, surveying it for a spot to hide the dress. You end up going with your closet, stuffing it into a pair of knee-high boots in the corner.

Satisfied, you send Seokjin a text, telling him you searched everywhere, but couldn’t find it. He suggests that maybe Sunmi misplaced it and doesn’t remember, saying she’ll do a sweep of her place for it.

You wait for the aftermath of Sunmi not finding the dress and it comes only a few hours later with a phone call from her.

“Y/n!? Seokjin said you didn’t see the dress?!”

“Hey, no I didn’t. I checked all over the backseat and the trunk and nothing. You don’t have it?” You ask, reclining on your bed.

“No! I tore my closet apart and everything!”

“Hmm, I know I saw it when we were at lunch.”

“Oh no… what if I forgot to grab it when we left the restaurant!? I have to call them now! Thanks Y/n!” She hangs up without saying goodbye and you toss your phone to the side.

You don’t notice Hani poking her head in your door until she clears her throat, startling you.

“You had something to do with the dress going missing, didn’t you?”

“What? Why would I?” You feign innocence, but she doesn’t buy it.

“Oh, please. I ran into Yoongi in the elevator just now and he said that Seokjin said Sunmi is losing it over her missing dress. It was one of her dream dresses.”

“Yeah, I think she mentioned that to me,” you say, tone casual.

“I’ll say again, I don’t support this,” Hani states firmly.

“I know.”

Your roommate stares at you intently as you scroll through your phone, deciding not to say anything else as she ducks out of the room. The same sliver of guilt you keep feeling gnaws at you, only for a little while longer, until thoughts of going on dates with Seokjin replace these negative feelings.

It’s Seokjin who tells you that the restaurant didn’t have the dress. When Sunmi tried calling the dress shop, they didn’t have the other two dresses she loved in stock anymore. He stops by your apartment as you’re getting ready for work the next morning, asking if you or Hani know any places to get a nice wedding dress. You can only suggest the usual shops you frequent, nothing exclusively with wedding dresses, but he’ll pass it along to her anyway.

“She’s so torn up about it, I don’t know what to do,” Seokjin complains. You pat his back, offering him sympathy.

“I can only imagine what she’s going through, but I’m sure she’ll find something.” The daggers Hani is shooting into your back are so intense, you can feel her eyes on you.

You leave for work as Seokjin does, so you don’t have to get stuck with Hani and her inevitable speech that awaits you. You know you should feel bad for the dress situation, but maybe this is it. Maybe that’ll be it for the wedding, you think.

This isn’t the case, of course, because the universe just hates your guts. Only a few days after dressgate, Seokjin tells you that Sunmi’s mother mailed her a dress from a boutique in her hometown that she saw and knew it’d be a perfect replacement.

And just like that, the wedding is back on, and Seokjin and Sunmi are ready to live happily ever after.

While you’re left out of ideas, out of hope, and tremendously fucking sad.

The rest of November is uneventful, as you see Seokjin even less than before with the wedding less than a month away. You feel as though not only are you all out of sabotage ideas, but your energy to try has depleted. You give up. You lost. You’re probably cursed to continue on one bad date after another until you’re old and have a house full of ferrets to keep you company.

Yoongi texts you multiple times a week, which is more than he ever has, checking in on you to just say hi, or send you funny videos. Hani, being the best roommate that she is, checks on you every single day as you fall deeper into your pit of despair. She texts you when you’re at work or when she’s not home, she brings you food and forces you out of the confines of your room to watch tv or cook with her.

“I know it hurts right now. It hurts, and it feels endless, but you’ll be okay.” She says one night, as the two of you watch a Christmas movie and you get more emotional than you thought you would at the couple on screen.

“But when?” You sniffle, not even noticing when you start crying.

Hani reaches over, putting her arm around you and pulling you close. “I don’t know, babe. I truly don’t. But it will, I promise.” You mumble out a weak thanks, a few more tears falling as you barely watch the rest of the movie.

The weeks that pass by are all the same. You don’t bother doing much for Christmas, even though Hani makes you get a small tree for the living room, and you put up a couple of decorations with her. It’s typically your favorite holiday, but this year, it hasn’t felt like much. You and Seokjin usually go ice skating or go to Lotteworld to celebrate the season, but with your best friend preoccupied, you don’t get to do any of that with him, nor do you want to do it at all. You don’t feel any of your usual holiday cheer.

The days leading up to the wedding are some of the longest, yet slowest days of your life. On the day of, you drag yourself out of bed, not feeling excited in the slightest. Part of you feels a twinge of guilt for feeling so miserable on your best friend’s wedding day, but a bigger part of you, the part that longs for Seokjin to love you back, is selfish and doesn’t care.

Today feels like the end of a lot of things. Your friendship with Seokjin, the possibility of ever being with him, and even of finding the person you truly are meant to be with. He knows you more and better than anyone that’s ever been in your life, so it makes sense to be with him.

Only you can’t because he’ll be giving himself to someone else. You may have done a lot of shitty things over the past couple of months, but you’d never try to get him to divorce. It was either before the wedding or not at all, and it’s looking like not at all.

With him having been so absent from your life the days leading up to today, you can only imagine how much less you’ll hear from him once the wedding happens. This sours your mood even more as you force back tears while doing your makeup.

Your gloomy mood carries over to the wedding venue as you try your damndest to greet everyone you run into, including Yoongi, who pulls you aside into an empty hallway when he spots you.

“How are you?” Is the first thing he asks.

“How do you think I am? I’m about to watch the only person I’ve ever been in love with marry another person so…”

“I’m sorry, Y/n. Even though I had no input while you were trying to pull off your master plan to stop the wedding, I can’t say you didn’t give it your all.”

“Stopping a wedding is a lot harder than you’d think.” You shrug.

A sound from down the hall has you both turning to look, seeing Seokjin rushing out of a room and into the backyard section of the venue.

“Wonder what his issue is,” Yoongi voices, watching through the glassdoor as Seokjin paces out in the cold.

“I’ll go find out,” you volunteer, making your way down the hall and outside with him. You pull your coat tighter around your body as you step outside. “Seokjin, what’s going on?”

He jumps at the sound of your voice and turns to you looking frazzled. “Fuck, Y/n, I’m freaking out!” He tugs on his neatly styled hair for emphasis.

“About the wedding?”

“About everything! I just… so many things have gone wrong leading up to today! I don’t know if that’s something I should take note of, you know? Like, nothing went right and every little thing just seemed to mess up in some way. Was that all a sign? Is the universe telling me I’m about to make the worst mistake of my life? I really love Sunmi, but holy shit I can’t jump into a whole ass marriage and have it fall apart because it wasn’t meant to be!” Seokjin’s eyes are watery as he rambles, his face as red as his lucky tie that he’s wearing.

“Seokjin…”

“Am I crazy? I spent all night last night asking myself over and over again if this is right. Do I really wanna do this when clearly I’m being told not to? Maybe I’m destined to be alone forever and never find happiness because honestly, this will be like the ultimate relationship that doesn’t work out. Everything else up until now was just the warm-up.”

“Stop it, don’t think like that.”

“Why not? I mean it seems like it!”

“Because all that shit was my fault!” You blurt out, not being able to hold it in anymore. You care about Seokjin too much to stomach seeing him beat himself up like this. This isn’t what you imagined his reaction would be if he ended up calling the wedding off.

He stops pacing, trying to decipher your words. “What do you mean?”

“I’m the one that fucked everything up, is what I mean. I’m the one who canceled the venue, I put doubt in Sunmi’s head at lunch that day, and I’m the one who hid her wedding dress! Everything bad that happened was me!”

Seokjin’s face contorts into several different emotions while he processes everything. “I… Y/n, why would you do all of that?”

“Because I wanted to ruin the wedding! When you told me you were proposing, I wasn’t happy at all! I was so fucking sad, and I didn’t have any idea why until I did; I love you. Like, I’m in love with you. You’ve been my best friend forever and I love you. I hate that this is what it took for me to realize it, but here we are. Merry fucking Christmas, I guess.” You’re crying, no matter how hard you try to stop.

“Wow. Y/n I don’t know what to say.”

“Just yell at me or tell me to fuck off and uninvite me or something? I don’t know. I fucked a lot of things up.”

“Yeah, you did. Do you know how much I was stressing about everything that got ruined? How much Sunmi was stressing? We’ve been equally excited and terrified of this day because of everything.” Seokjin is annoyed, but not yelling.

“I’m sorry, okay? I’m so fucking sorry. I just love you so much, both platonically and non-platonically, and I miss you already. I didn’t want to lose you.”

“Y/n, you’re not going to lose me.”

“It sure feels like it! Since you announced your engagement, we haven’t been able to hang out at all. Everything is so different and you haven’t even gotten married.”

He lets out a heavy sigh that you can feel resonate within you. “I honestly don’t even know what to say right now.”

“I don’t know what I expected you to say, especially not with today being the day. It’s fine if you don’t feel the same, because I wouldn’t deserve it if you did, but please don’t hate me. I don’t think I can handle that.”

“Y/n, come on, I don’t hate you. I’m pissed and confused, but I don’t hate you. I mean I loved you too at one point. And even at your Halloween party when you brought that guy, I think I was jealous, even though my feelings for you went away a while ago. I just don’t know what to say at this moment. I’m getting married and this is a lot.” He runs his fingers through his hair, ruining the styling even more.

You rub your wet eyes, no doubt smearing your makeup. “Wait, you were jealous? I only brought Jimin to get under your skin, but I didn’t think it worked.” Then, the other part of what he said dawned on you. “And you loved me too?”

“Wasn’t that obvious?” Seokjin asks, looking confused that you’re confused.

“What? No! Do you think we’d be having this conversation right now if it was?!”

Your best friend goes to open his mouth, then closes it again. “Well, no I guess not.” He finally says.

A beat of silence passes between you both and against your better judgment, you rush forward and stand on your tiptoes to loop your arms around Seokjin’s neck. He doesn’t stop you, so before you can stop yourself, you pull his head down, his plush lips meeting yours.

The kiss isn’t long, but his lips are warm and soft and you feel a shockwave course through your veins at the feeling.

Seokjin pushes you away finally. “Y/n, I -”

“Seokjin!” Sunmi shrieking his name from behind you makes you both whip around to look at her. She’s standing in the doorway of the venue, her hands gripping the train of her sleek, silky white gown.

“Shit, Sunmi this isn’t what it looks like.” Seokjin steps away from you, moving towards her but she holds a hand up to him.

“Don’t!” She screams, voice cracking. Her watery eyes dart over to you, her gaze making you look away. Without another word, Sunmi turns on her heels and rushes back into the venue.

Seokjin watches her go, cursing lightly under his breath. He turns back to you, looking torn. “Fuck, I have to go after her. Can we… we can talk later.”

Of course, you understand. His fianceé saw him kissing another woman that she’s always been wary of on their wedding day. It makes sense, but it still hurts.

Nevertheless, you nod. You sulk behind him into the venue and run into Sunmi’s brother as soon as you step through the door.

“Seokjin, what’s going on?!” Seungdong asks in a panic.

“What do you mean?”

“Sunmi ran out like a minute ago and no one saw which way she went!”

“What? Has someone tried to call her?”

“She doesn’t have her phone on her, it’s in her dressing room. I’m heading out to find her now. It can’t be hard to spot a woman walking around the streets in a wedding dress.” Seokjin watches him go, his stress level visibly increasing.

“Hey, do you want me to help?” You ask, placing your hand on his arm.

“I don’t have my car! We drove in with Yoongi. I gotta go find him -”

“Let me take you, I have my car.”

“Okay, “ Seokjin says without hesitation. You both jog to your car as fast as your uncomfortable formal shoes can take you.

With Seokjin in the passenger seat and you in the driver, you peel out of your parking spot, driving without much thought. “Where do you think she is?” You ask, trying to keep your eyes open for her.

“Shit, I don’t know, maybe her apartment? But that’s too far on foot. And she doesn’t have her phone or a purse so she couldn’t have gotten a rideshare or the bus…” He trails off, staring intently out of the window before a thought seems to pop into his head. “We’re close to the river, aren’t we?!”

“I think so.”

“That’s where we had our first date, let’s try there!”

You nod, making the short trip to Han River. Once parked, you split up to cover more ground. Surprisingly, it’s not long until you spot her. Dark hair out of the neat bun it was in, sitting in a heap of white in the grass.

“Sunmi!” You call out as you get closer. She turns to you, face twisting into a frown. Swiftly, she whips back around to focus on the river. “Sunmi, you’ll ruin your dress.”

“What does it matter? Isn’t that what you want?” She snaps, still not looking at you.

“Sunmi, listen, I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry? Sorry for kissing my fiancé, sorry for lying to me, or sorry for trying to ruin my wedding?!”

You wince at her tone, never having seen this side of her before. “All of it. Every part of it. I shouldn’t have kissed Seokjin.”

“You’re right, you shouldn’t have.”

“I shouldn’t have lied to you when you asked how I felt about him, but I panicked, okay?”

“I may not have been sober, but I remember asking you. You looked at me and told me I didn’t need to worry about you, and I believed you.”

“Please, I know and I feel shitty about it. You asked me bluntly and you were drunk and I was scared. These feelings for him were so new at the time, I just - I don’t mean to make excuses, but I’m sorry.”

“You should be.”

“And I can’t even tell you how sorry I am about everything with the wedding. It was childish and evil and nothing about what I did is okay.”

“It’s not okay!”

“I know! I know Sunmi, and I’m so sorry. You can hate me if you want. You can think I’m terrible and that I’m a homewrecker, but please don’t leave it like this with Seokjin. He loves you a lot and this entire thing is my fault. Just talk to him, please.”

Sunmi sniffles, finally turning to look at you. Her eyes are red and makeup smeared. “I should be so much more pissed off with you right now. Like, if I smacked you right now, I’d be well within my rights to do so.”

“You can if you want to! If it’ll make you feel better.”

“No,” Sunmi shakes her head. “I won’t. But I’m still very mad at you.”

“You’re allowed to be.” She gives you another look, then you both hear Seokjin calling your names from a distance.

He makes it across the grass, panting and out of breath. “Sunmi! I’ve been looking all over for you! Please, can we talk?”

Sunmi stands up, brushing the grass from her dress. “I’ll talk to you, but that doesn’t mean we’re getting married today.”

“That’s fine! I understand.”

You take this as your cue to leave, telling them you can wait in the car, but they say not to wait up for them. The venue is far enough to walk back to and they’d prefer to do that while they have a much-needed talk.

After apologizing to them both again you see yourself out of the conversation, heart hurting and the outcome feeling extremely bittersweet. You truly want the best for them, but you have a lot of work to do on your own feelings.

Three days later, you get a visit at home from Seokjin. He and Sunmi have rescheduled the wedding for the first week of January and are still going to get married. Luckily, the venue was nice enough to squeeze them into a day to reschedule. You don’t expect to get invited to the rescheduled wedding, but you are.

“I meant what I said the other day, by the way,” Seokjin says after there’s a lull in conversation about the new wedding date. “About how I used to love you as more than a friend.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. I had a lot of times throughout the years where I realized I was in love with you, but at some point, in the last few years I kind of just told myself to let the feelings pass. You’ve been the most important person to me my whole life and I didn’t want to jeopardize that. Friends that like the other friend always either get a really good or really bad ending, and there was no way I was going to gamble and find out what happened.”

He’s right. If Seokjin had confessed to you a few years ago, you’re not sure if you would’ve realized how you felt then or if you would’ve still been ignorant about your feelings. The thought of losing Seokjin completely hurts even more than the thought of never having a chance to be with him as more than a friend.

You voice these thoughts out loud and thank him for being honest and telling you. “I would never want you out of my life and if that means mending a broken heart, but still getting to see you all the time, then so be it.”

Seokjin beams at you, reaching out to pull you across the couch and into a hug. “Even though you tried to ruin my wedding, which I am still annoyed about, you’re still my best friend, Y/n and I love you. Thank you for understanding and taking this so well.”

“Well, I’ll probably cry about it in the shower for a few weeks, but thank you.” You share a laugh and hug him back until he has to go to finalize a few things for the wedding.

When he’s gone, you get a good cry in before even getting in the shower.

The ceremony is quick and as you sit between Hani and Yoongi, you wait for the tears, and thankfully, you don’t do too ugly of a cry. Tears fall from your eyes, but you don’t feel the hole in your chest opening any wider which is good. It feels like something almost akin to healing.

After the ceremony is a small reception in one of the venue dining rooms. You stay with Hani most of the time, greeting other mutual friends here and there. At some point, Sunmi makes her way over and takes a seat next to you. Hani excuses herself, letting the two of you have the privacy you need for this conversation.

“I want to let you know that I forgive you. It sucked and you hurt me, but I forgive you, Y/n. And thank you for giving me my dress back.”

“Sunmi, thank you so much!” You reach out for a hug, but she holds out a hand to stop you.

“I didn’t say I was ready to be your friend again. That will still take time, but for now, thank you for coming.”

“Of course. I wouldn’t miss this for the world.” You watch as Sunmi gives you the tiniest of smiles.

She leaves without another glance, and you’re left alone again until you see Yoongi approaching out of the corner of your eye.

“Hey,” he starts, leaning against the table. “I heard from Seokjin how your talk with him went. How are you doing?”

You shrug. “As good as I can be, I suppose.”

“That’s fair. And it looked like Sunmi didn’t come over here to kick your ass, so I take it you two are good?

You let out what feels like a laugh and nod. “Yeah, we’re okay.”

“That’s good.” Yoongi clears his throat, holding out his hand. “Can I ask you to dance now?” His question catches you off guard, but his expression is genuine.

With very little hesitation you accept, placing your hand in his and letting him lead you to the dancefloor. There’s a slow song playing, definitely an oldie, and is the perfect song to slow dance to as you lie your head on Yoongi’s shoulder and sway to the music with him. This is the first time since the engagement was announced that you haven’t thought of Seokjin. You’re only thinking about Yoongi and being here with him, and you feel completely at ease.

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daisiesonafield-blog · 3 years

Text

ATTENTION everyone attending ‘Louis Tomlinson World Tour’ DENVER on Feb 28 2022

COVID-19 protocol:

Masks are encouraged inside the venue at all times, regardless of vaccination status except while actively eating or drinking

Provide proof of full COVID-19 vaccination OR

A negative COVID-19 test within 72 hours of the show.

Also, bring appropriate ID matching the name on your COVID-19 documentation.

Proof must be:

PRINTED copy of a negative test result or vaccination, or the original vaccination card.

You will NOT be allowed into Louis’ show without proof of vaccination or negative test. Yes, even if you have a ticket.

For more details click here.

General admission (GA pit tickets):

Fans can START to line up at 8AM

CAMPING IS ILLEGAL

Overnight security will turn away fans who try to line up before 8am.

PLEASE BEWARE the venue is located in an area that IS NOT SAFE to stay/camp at overnight. Colfax Ave is a known place to avoid after dark due to higher crime rates. Do not stay out overnight.

The venue does not allow camping or overnight parking of any kind.

There are a total of 3 entrance gates to the facility. The main Gate at the corner of Colfax Ave. and Clarkson Street is available for use regardless of the ticket type. There is an auxiliary gate accessed on the Southeast corner of the building near the Box Office that is open as needed based on traffic.

The Fillmore Auditorium is a 110 year-old building and while they do the best to regulate temperature, **IT GETS HOT INSIDE.**

Maintain hydration, eat well and beware of the heat.

Details here.

Door opening times:

Doors: 7PM

Sun Room: 8PM

Louis: 9PM

Times are subject to change.

Here are important policies:

Nonprofessional only, no detachable lenses. Cameras with extended lenses are not allowed. Recording devices, Selfie-sticks are not allowed.

Computers or tablets such as iPads are not allowed.

Outside food and beverage are not allowed.

Coolers, beverages (in any type of container) are not allowed.

Weapons/chains, mace or pepper spray are not allowed.

Studded belts, bracelets, etc. are not allowed.

Hula-hoops, poi and any other item that may intrude on other guest's space are not allowed

Glow sticks and Stickers are not allowed.

Illegal Drugs or Marijuana in any form are not allowed.

There is no reentry

For ADA accommodations check info here and contact the venue.

Coat check available ($5 per item).

Parking can be purchased here. On-street parking may be available in the vicinity of the Fillmore. Please pay attention to signs for regulations on each block as they do differ throughout the area. Additionally, some local businesses make spaces available for sale and there are a number of pay parking lots between the Capitol and the Fillmore. Please do NOT park in a business lot that does not have an official representative on site to collect for parking as many nearby businesses tow. The Fillmore encourages use of public transportation and Uber to get to and from events.

There are a total of 3 entrance gates to the facility. The main Gate at the corner of Colfax Ave. and Clarkson St is available for use regardless of the ticket type. There is an auxiliary gate accessed on the Southeast corner of the building near the Box Office that is open as needed based on traffic. VIP Club and Box Holders have a separate entry gate located on the Northwest corner of the venue on the Clarkson Street side of the building. All guests using this gate must be VIP clients and have the appropriate ticket.

Venue seating chart here and here.

The venue is cashless

For a complete list of policies and more details, as well as prohibited items click here.

Bag Policy

Clear plastic, vinyl or PVC tote bags no larger than 12” x 6” x 12” are allowed.

Small clutch bags (4.5”x 6.5”) allowed.

Details here

Banners, signs and flag policy:

Signs larger than 8.5 X 11 in are not permitted into the venue. This size is a standard sheet of paper.

All signs must be appropriate in nature and not be a distraction to the artist.

Small flags are allowed.

Details here.

Contact info:

For additional questions please call the venue at 303-837-0360. Contact them via email here. Check their twitter here. Check their website and Live Nation page.

Address:

The Fillmore

1510 Clarkson Street,

Denver CO 80218

#LTT denver #venue policies #venue protocols

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out-of-jams · 4 years

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Across the Board || i || kth

(banner done by the great @kimtaehyunq )

↠ Across the Board ↞ You’d hit a low point in life. With bills piling up and your bank account empty, you were starting to get desperate. So when you got the invite to your oldest friend’s birthday party being hosted at the most popular underground casino in town, what did you possibly have to lose? You took what little you had left in your savings, put your card skills to use, and entered a private blackjack game.

And you’d won. And went back for more, and more, and more.

Until you lost.

And now you’re indebted to the city’s most dangerous mob boss, forced to pay your dues in blood one way or another. With a gun pushed into your hands and your life at stake; once you’re in, you’re in. You’ll never get out.

Word Count: 4k

Warnings/Genre: Set in the Roaring 20s! Gambling. Mature themes. Mafia!au. Mafia Don!Taehyung. Violence. Law breaking. Alcohol use. Death of minor characters. Explicit language. Enemies to lovers. Short series. 18+

|| Next | Masterlist | |

Danger.

It was a word right up there alongside the definition for the term “stupidity.” While not next to each other in the dictionary, they were close enough that your brain was unable to pick out the subtle differences. Perhaps you’d just always had a habit for screwing your life up, or maybe it was just genetics. Who knew?

You should have listened to the warnings, should have stopped yourself before you got in too deep. Hell, you should have done a lot of things. But you had no one to blame for your current situation except for yourself. However, if you’d learned anything throughout your twenty-two short years of life, it was that life lessons didn’t mean jack if you didn’t get yourself into messes into the first place.

Though staring down the barrel of a revolver sure was a funny way of going about it.

The air in the dimly lit back corner room was tense enough to hear the sound of a casino chip fall to the ground somewhere beyond the shut door. None of the six men sitting around the round, green felted table spoke a word. Their attention — and yours, consequently — was fixed on the single man in the room who barely even batted an eye at the clear panic evident on your face.

He sat on the opposite side of you; the scowl pulling down his bow shaped lips and the narrowing of his fierce gaze had fear chilling your veins. That man was much like an exotic animal; beautiful beyond belief, but dangerous right beneath the surface. A carnivore staring down his prey. The single light above the table threw his shadow against the wall as he casually aimed his pistol right between your eyes.

“You were saying, dollface?”

His neatly parted, straight black hair fell across his face when he leaned forward as if the next words out of your mouth would seal your fate. Not that the thought of having to have your blood cleaned from the expensive carpet beneath his expensive shoes seemed to bother him in the slightest. In fact, he’d look almost bored if it weren’t for the dangerous gleam behind his espresso irises.

“I—” You cut yourself off, swallowing roughly and glancing back down at the table. A depleted deck of cards sat in the center, two hands laid out on the surface. One was yours — a ten of diamonds and a ten of clubs — and the other his. A red ace of spades and a black jack of hearts.

You were out of money.

Having bet more than you possessed, you were also out of chances.

“It’s simple. You owe me money as promised,” his deep, baritone voice spoke up casually over the noise of your heart beating through your chest. “Either hand it over, or you won’t be leaving this room alive. Your choice.”

You closed your eyes for a moment too long to be called a blink, and cursed yourself for ever getting into this situation.

One Month Ago

Final Notice of Payment

Ms. L/n,

This is a reminder that you have a balance of $20.54 that is past due. Please make a one time payment no later than—

“Oh, please.” The bill enclosed envelope hit the top of the small, circular dining room table. Or was it the kitchen table? It was hard to tell, seeing as how they were one and the same.

A sigh escaped your lips as you leaned back against the creaky wooden chair, fingers massaging your temples. That was the third bill you’d come across that morning and every single one of them was the final notice of payment. The last warning they’d give before sending someone to collect what was owed.

It hadn’t always been like that. You hadn’t always been in such an insurmountable amount of debt, not until recently. Two months ago your mother, the last bit of family you had left, died. Passed away clinging to the sheets of the hospital bed she’d been laid up in for the past half a year. Cancer, the doctors had said. From all of the cigarettes she’d burned through in the past decade or so.

Irrecoverable, they’d said.

No amount of “sorry’s” or meaningless condolences could fix the massive amount of money that the hospital billed you. Or the debt that your mother left behind, along with her slim-boned corpse that you’d had to bury in the corner of the city cemetery. Perhaps if you’d known who your father was, you could’ve laid her to rest in the space next to his own, but you didn’t. Weren’t fortunate enough to.

Bills had piled up. Rent for the tiny studio apartment the two of you had shared was demanded by the pigeon-toed old woman who owned the rundown, overpriced building. Her husband had passed away two years ago and ever since then, she’d been relentless. She pounded on your door at approximately eight in the morning everyday, shouting through the thin wood that you had until the week was up to pay what was owed. Otherwise you’d be tossed out onto the street with only the clothes on your back.

Combined with the utility bill and the fact that you still had to come up with the dough to feed yourself, you were trapped. The meagre pennies you got from your waitressing job at the diner three blocks away weren’t nearly enough. Nothing would be enough. Not unless you wanted to sell your body on the street corners in the late of night.

Which you didn’t. And you wouldn’t. You’d be more likely to end up dead in a ditch somewhere with your throat cut than out of debt. The city wasn’t safe for women, less so by those men who saw prostitutes as no more than an object to relieve stress onto. And you refused to become another headline in the paper.

Tossing the opened envelope across the table, you paused when familiar handwriting caught your eye on top of the rest of the mail pile. Addressed to you in a curling script that only ever came from someone who could afford a private tutor. You sighed, carefully sliding a knife along the top to slice it open. A waft of sweet, cherry scented perfume filled your tiny kitchen and you almost rolled your eyes at the unnecessary addition.

Jennie, your oldest friend since high school, always had an inclination for the unnecessary. Born with a silver spoon in her mouth and a gold digger for a mother, she’d had nothing else to waste her time on. How you’d even gotten on as friends with such a gap between tax brackets was still a mystery to you. Maybe it was because she’d always used her wealth and status to get the two of you out of trouble. Whether it was from breaking into the school late at night to get wasted in the halls with the rest of her friends, or to get away with slipping things from the corner store into your dress pockets.

She’d always been a rule breaker.

Which was exactly why when you read the contents of the letter, a laugh tumbled from your mouth. It was an invitation to celebrate her upcoming twenty-third birthday in three day’s time. That wouldn’t have been anything out of the ordinary, however, if it weren’t for the location. There wasn’t an exact address, there never was. Just a thin piece of cardboard the size of your hand that fell from the envelope. A playing card — a red ace. One that looked normal except for the center that had the name of a restaurant in the heart of the most rich part of downtown printed on it.

It was a ticket to the most popular underground casino in the whole city. No one knew how to get one, how to get your name onto the list that only catered to the rich and powerful. Located beneath a restaurant, it had grown to be infamous almost overnight since gambling and alcohol was outlawed. Even the coppers knew well enough to leave the establishment alone.

The only way to gain entrance was by flashing a ticket to one of the restaurant staff. That was what you’d heard, at least. You had no idea how May had managed to secure one, let alone enough to cover what you knew would be a large party of her closest friends.

Flicking the corner of the card, you couldn’t believe your luck.

Your mother hadn’t taught you very many things, had been too busy gossiping with her friends over a carton of cigarettes to bother. What she had passed down, however, was her ability to draw cards. To play blackjack with the best of them. That’d been the only thing she’d ever bothered to teach you; when she’d had too many sips of wine and her eyes had glazed over with memories of the life she used to live.

She’d sit you down and make you memorize the names and faces of the cards until you could count them forward and backwards. Could predict what card would be drawn and when. Where she’d learned it, she’d never told you. But that didn’t matter now. Couldn’t, seeing as she was dead and all.

Grinning, you flopped back into your chair.

Maybe you’d be able to pay off your debts after all.

And you had. Paid off your debt, that is.

After clearing out your savings account of the last fifteen dollars you had left to your name, you’d dolled yourself up and gone with Jennie and her friends. Had left the group of flappers tittering and groaning drunk at the line of slot machines at the back of the casino. Calls of bets being placed, dough exchanging for chips, and illegal cocktails pouring into glasses played as a soundtrack.

None of the card tables scattered across the underground establishment held what you’d been looking for. Neither roulette, nor craps, nor slots. The bartender had been the one to tell you where the real games were, where the cash was. A door down a tiny back hallway led to a room where private games were held. If you managed to win at one, he’d told you, then you’d win not only the pot, but an invitation to come back and play again.

Which had been an opportunity that you just couldn’t pass up. No matter the risk.

You’d won.

And now you were addicted.

To the money, the lifestyle, the adrenaline that shot through your veins like a particularly harsh sip of gin. Which was exactly why you’d gone back. Again, and again, and again, every single week for the past month. It wasn’t your fault that it was so easy. So simple to swindle your way into getting your name permanently written down on the entry list.

Oh, and the men.

It was a different group every week, but they weren’t all that dissimilar from one another. They’d sit there and smoke their cigars and drink their whiskey, all while silently mocking you with their eyes. Like they thought they were better than you just because they had a dick between their legs.

You were addicted to that too.

To watching the way their faces would fall in disbelief every single time you cleared the pot and took their money. And how their voices would raise in pitch with their countless complaints about how some lowly broad conned them out of their pocket change. Because that’s all that money was to people like them.

Change.

They were rich. You could tell by the custom suits they wore, the cologne they bathed in, the way they carried themselves. The money they gambled with always had a cap, a max amount that they were willing to bet. And the games never got too crazy, didn’t escalate once they lost to you. Which was a shame really, because you wanted more. Craved more. More of what, you weren’t too sure, but the high that playing brought only lasted so long until you came crashing back down.

Which was exactly when fate decided to change the routine.

“Here to play again, miss?” Felix, the same teenage boy who always manned the door to the gambling room, asked with a slight tilt of his head. His light brunette hair was tucked beneath a bowler hat, different from the usual fedora. Back to the door, he was standing up straight instead of his normal slouch. And the way his mouth was taught around the edges was out of the ordinary as well.

The boy didn’t have a cigarette clenched between his teeth, which should have been enough to set off the bells in your head. But it didn’t. Because you were too bullheaded, had gotten too cocky in the terms of things.

“You know me too well, Felix.” You reached out a hand to pat the lanky boy on his suit clad arm lightly, a smile pulling up at your red painted lips. “Is the usual table ready?”

The volume in the casino wasn’t as loud either, nor were there quite as many patrons. But you’d just chalked that up to the heavy rain pounding a path into the concrete outside. Though the lack of customers did nothing to eliminate the permanent smell of cigarette smoke that lingered, hidden in the walls beneath the fancy looking wallpaper.

“I don’t know if you want to play today, miss.” Felix glanced away from you with his bottom lip caught between his teeth. You blamed the flickering light in the corner of the hall for the way his freckles stood out amongst his slowly paling cheeks.

You raised an eyebrow. “Why not?”

He didn’t answer. Not at first. Silence lingered in the hall, drowning in the soft jazz music coming from the band on the stage near the back of the joint. It took the raising of your other brow for the underaged boy to finally answer.

“It’s just not a good day for gambling.”

Now that had you leaning forward until you could finally catch his flighty gaze, voice hushed in a playful whisper. “Oh really, how so? Is there a stool-pigeon running about somewhere? Should we be expecting the coppers to come kicking down the door any minute?”

“No. I—”

“Then why can’t I play, Felix?” You were starting to get irritated. The week had been long and you were ready to forget about it all for the next few hours. Buried beneath the weight of a handful of cards and glass full of gin.

Either Felix could see your growing impatience, or there really was something he was hiding, because he stepped even further in front of the door. “You don’t want to play with this group, miss. They aren’t as welcoming as the others are. It’d be best if you just went home.”

“You ca—”

“And what’s going on back here?” That wasn’t Felix’s voice and neither was it yours. You whipped around, surprised at the new addition.

The man behind you had honey brown hair parted and styled carefully until it was brushed back away from his heart-shaped face. Though some of it still hung in front of a single, dark eye. His other was uncovered, a scar running through his eyebrow and cutting it in half. Everything about him was angular, sharp. From his jawline to the slope of his nose and the corners of his full lips.

One look and you already pegged him for a cake-eater, a ladies man, if you’d ever seen one. Hell, he even dressed like he came right off the front cover of one of those Time magazines that littered the newspaper stands on every street corner. With a navy blue suit and perfect, unscuffed shoes.

“No, sir,” Felix attempted to pull the man’s attention from you unsuccessfully. “The missus here was just leaving.”

The Stranger hummed, tilting his head to study you with those sharp eyes of his. “Were you, bunny? Just leaving?”

You couldn’t help the twitch of your nose at the unfavorable nickname, squaring your shoulders and crossing your arms with a scoff. “No, I wasn’t. I want to play a few rounds, you see, but he won’t let me.”

Perhaps you should have felt bad for ratting out the kid, but you didn’t. Especially not when the Stranger huffed a laugh, a distinct ha-ha-ha! in amusement. Though there was something else in his eyes that you couldn’t name. Didn’t want to acknowledge. “You want to play a hand of blackjack, is that right?”

“Ab-so-lute-ly.” You raised an eyebrow at the man and waved a hand through the air. “I can play.”

“Oh,” He asked, taking a step closer until you had to crane your neck back to meet his imploring gaze. “Playing isn’t cheap.”

You shrugged nonchalantly. “I can pay too.”

He must have been waiting for that answer if the smirk that pulled at his lips was any indication. And he finally, finally broke eye contact to wave aside the boy behind you. “Well, did the dame make herself clear or not? She wants to play.”

You happened to turn just in time to catch the alarm that flickered across Felix’s face as he stepped to the side to reveal the door behind him. Felix reached out with a ringed hand to twist the brass knob of the door. It swung open without a sound and he gave you a quick, wide-eyed stare filled with a warning you couldn’t interpret, before looking away.

“Well?” The Stranger questioned from over your shoulder. You could smell his cologne now; husky with a hint of sweet orange.

His words were an invitation if you’d ever heard one. And you didn’t want to look like a bluenose, a prude, so you stepped inside without hesitation. Though perhaps you should have taken Felix’s unspoken warning, for you had no idea just what it was that you were walking into.

Inside the cramped room was filled with a haze of cigar smoke, which wasn’t unusual at all. What was, however, was the group of six men sitting at the circular table as you rounded the corner with the Stranger at your back. They were beautiful, all of them. A huge contrast to the usual rabble that came to play. Hell, even underneath the dim light you couldn't spot a single flaw on them.

No one noticed your entrance at first.

Well, at least not until the Stranger cleared his throat. “Gentleman.”

His greeting sounded like it toed somewhere on the line between amusement and respect.

All movement in the room came to a halt as six men looked up from where they’d been bent over the blackjack table. If you’d been a little less prideful and a lot more careful, then perhaps the overbearing confidence that bled from their pores would have given you pause. But as it was, you stood standing, back straight and head held high. Even while their eyes roamed your figure like tigers behind a cage at the zoo right before feeding time.

A pause hovered in the air, lingering with a tension that crawled onto your skin. What seemed like hours passed merely in seconds before it was broken.

“And who’s this?” The question came from the fella who sat in the chair closest to where you stood. He was turned around with his arm propped up on the back of it, head tilted to the side in curiosity. His hair was styled similar to the Stranger’s, though his was darker and the gel pushed through the strands made it gleam silver beneath the dim lamp that hung above the table.

High cheekbones and skin the same color as molten honey, his jaw worked around a piece of gum stuck between his teeth. A smirk pulled up at the corner of his mouth, dark eyes glittering with a touch of interest. With a black and white suit that complimented the shade of his hair, the man was nothing if not a billboard: flashy. Handsome.

“I found bunny here outside arguing with Felix. Something about wanting to play a few rounds of blackjack. Isn’t that right?” The Stranger placed a heavy palm between your shoulder blades. What might have been intended to come off as comforting, only succeeded in making you feel the opposite. Like you were being put on display.

You didn’t let it show on your face. “That’s right.”

“Oh?” Gum Chewer’s smirk grew broader at that, but he said nothing else. Just leaned back in his chair.

“What do you say, should we let her play?” Blond hair, pink kissable lips and dangerous, dangerous eyes. The slim man sitting next to Gum Chewer was attractive in a pretty way that made you envious of his easy-on-the-eyes looks.

While the question may have been asked to the whole room, none of them answered it. Instead they looked towards one of the men sitting in the middle who had yet to speak. If you’d thought the rest of them were a sight for sore eyes, well, they had nothing on him. How your attention hadn’t been drawn to him the moment you walked through the door, you didn’t know.

He wasn’t even looking at you and you already felt tongue-tied. Busying himself with shuffling the cards in his hands against the green felt table, the expensive looking rings adorning his slender fingers caught your eye. He was what your mother would’ve called a timeless beauty. The type of handsome that meant he could walk the streets of the city in nothing but a sack and he’d have women throwing themselves at his feet.

Hair the same shade as a moonless sky made him look intimidating, like he belonged to the shadows themselves. A straight nose, cupid bow lips and long eyelashes that would make any broad jealous; he gave off the type of power that could make even the bravest of men cower at his feet. The longer he took to respond, the more the room grew still. As if your fate was in the hands of a man who’s name you didn’t even know.

Though perhaps it was.

A muffled thud echoed throughout the room as he tapped the deck of cards against the table once, twice, before sliding them over to the fella to his left. Plucking up the glass of scotch in front of him, he finally looked up. And graced you with the prettiest chocolate brown eyes you’d ever seen.

“What’s your name, dollface?”

tagged: @bewitch-me @jxngkooksthxghs @kaitswrld @clarissalance @namurkive @ifntelyinspirit @kotaevln @red--aren @ggukkieland @moonlitmyg @i-like-puppy-mg @aianloveseven @drumsofheaven @figurativehoe00 @wonhoandonly @wacdon @hear-me-growl @milaridez7 @1088x1088 @alana-ba @vlntaeg

#bangtanarmynet #networkbangtan #magicshopnet #btsbookclub #ficswithluv #bts #kim taehyung #taehyung smut #jungkook #jimin #namjoon #hoseok #seokjin #yoongi

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