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“You’re kidding me.”

It’s like looking in a mirror - a stupid funhouse mirror that throws all of your features into funky relief and makes you look nothing like yourself.

“You look great,” your best friend huffs, personally offended by how poorly you’re taking the makeover she’d been kind enough to spend something like three hours on.

“I look like—” You stop short, cage the words behind your teeth as you stare long and hard at the reflection. “I just don’t look like myself.”

(Which, could be a good thing. Frankly probably was, but it doesn’t mean you’re okay with it. It feels like a lie and that’s just awkward. You’re quirky gold frames and cherry Chapstick, a multistick wash of colour when you’re not savouring your sleep. Not this goddess with mile long lashes and sculpted cheekbones.)

“You want to have fun tonight, right?” You nod. “You want to have the typical college experience and like, probably wake up in some random frat boy’s bed?”

Wait, what? “No?”

“Oh, that’s what I want.” Hyerin laughs when you roll your eyes. (Despite being best friends since first year, the two of you are more different than apples and... not apples.) “But I want you to have fun and girl, this will help you have fun.”

You somehow doubt that. Can’t see how a few pounds of makeup and carefully coiffed hair will change your entire approach to life.

 ❪  💜  RUN BTS :  ❫  fun and games !

pairing.  kth x f!reader.  rating.  general.  tags.  nada!  wc.  0.4k.  author note.  idk what this is i’m sorry!!!  tae is in this for a whopping one line fml.  😐  but ty for the ask anyway!! 💙

Some days it's hard to see If I was a fool, or you, a thief Made it through the maze to find my one in a million And now you're just a page torn from the story I'm living

                   -  Dynasty - Elephante, MIIA

You’re a dreamer.  Always have been, likely always will be.

You consider it one of your best features - your starry-eyed love for all things, your perpetual head-in-the-clouds nature.  It’s taken you far - in fact, brought you to where you are now, seated at your best friend’s wedding, collapsed in giggles as her newly-minted husband tries to tear the garter from her leg.  

It’s served you incredibly well, all things considered.  

“No hands!”  The bride’s sister shrieks, laughter spiking uncontrollably as the groom shifts forwards, hands creeping awfully close to the pretty tulle skirt.  He’d only lost his balance - because well, he’s him - and scrambles to right himself in front of the hundreds of guests.

“I’m not—”  He insists, all innocent eyes and daring dimples, threading his fingers behind his back once more.  Namjoon is many things:  doting boyfriend (now husband!), wonderful dog dad, good sport.  He fits Yuri well, makes her laugh and blush and happy cry harder than she ever has before.  You love that for her.

There are cheers from the tables, from family members who’ve come to celebrate the union between two of the grossest, sweetest people you’ve ever met.  The room is filled with love in all its various forms.  

It’s a dream come true.  

(Because you had dreamt it - made it all up and brought it to life.  Played the perfect part of not-maid of honour and gracious-best-friend-turned-wedding-planner.  From the invitations - heavy cream cardstock embossed with Moni’s paw print - to the flowers - Yuri’s favourite lilies with Namjoon’s favourite earthy palette - you’d had a hand in it all.  You’d stood by the bride when she’d nearly gone full ‘Zilla, talked her down from ledges and dunked her cold feet until they’d warmed.)

 You couldn’t ask for anything more.  

That is, except for the one person who’s just walked through the door to go back the way he’d come.  For him to turn tail and run, as if he’d never existed in this moment.