Ashton: "I just don't understand why we're inviting people you don't know," you sighed as you read over Ashton's guest list. "Just think about how cool it would be if Pete Wentz came to our wedding!" Ashton explained with a dreamy grin. You stared at him incredulously from across the table, but he didn't seem to notice. You shook your head and returned your gaze to the list. "Is all of Green Day on this list?" you asked, growing impatient now. With a sheepish grin, Ashton nodded. "No," you responded immediately, crossing them off the list. "But why?" Ashton asked, reaching across and grabbing the list from you before you could do any more damage. "We agreed on a small wedding," you reminded him, "And every celebrity you invite adds more publicity to the whole thing." "Alright," Ashton grumbled, handing the list back, "But you aren't taking Will Smith off the list." "Will Smith is not gonna come to our wedding," you laughed with an easy shake of your head. "He might," Ashton persisted, "Can we at least invite him?" "Fine," you gave in, knowing it would have to happen eventually, "But that means Susan Boyle is off." "Alright, that one was Michael's idea anyway," Ashton admitted with a shrug. "Tell Michael to stop messing with my wedding," you warned, although you couldn't help but smile at the idea of Ashton going over his guest list with his band mates.
Michael: "How's everything going, my lovely bride to be?" Michael questioned, coming up behind you as you sat with wedding magazines spread around you. "I'm having a crises," you admitted in desperation. "What's wrong?" Michael asked, taking a seat beside you. "I think these foxgloves would look really nice in the centerpieces," you explained, pointing to the flowers in the magazine, "But foxgloves represent insincerity!" You turn to Michael for a solution, but he can't help but laugh. "What?" you questioned, glaring at Michael. "You can't be serious," Michael laughed, shaking his head. "What do you mean?" you asked, raising your eyebrows in surprise. "Literally no one will know what these flowers represent except you," Michael pointed out in amusement. "Well, sorry I don't want insincerity in our marriage," you snapped at him. "The flowers you choose aren't gonna change our marriage," he informed you, doing his best to keep from laughing, although 'his best' wasn't very good. You looked away to attempt to hide how angry you were at his insensitivity. "If you don't want insincerity, just pick new flowers," he suggested, hoping to cover for his laughter. "But the foxgloves will look the best," you explained impatiently. "Okay, well I don't know what you want me to tell you then," he stated, laughing again. "Do you even care about the wedding?" you asked, tears stinging your eyes and becoming evident in your voice. "Of course I do!" Michael assured you, confused as to how you got to that conclusion, "I just don't know anything about flowers!" "I'm working so hard to make this wedding nice and all you do is laugh at me," you shared, your voice rising in pitch as you came closer and closer to hysteria. "Babe, look, I'm sorry," Michael answered quickly, "It's just that, well, to me the flowers aren't the important part. I won't be looking at the flowers during the wedding, I'll be looking at you." You sniffled, wiping a tear from your cheek before turning back to Michael. He knew he had just won some major points with that line. "Okay," you responded with a watery laugh, "I guess I am being a bit ridiculous." "You're just being a great bride," Michael assured you, holding you closely, "And I think it's cute." "You're totally lying," you laughed, although you kissed him anyway.
Luke: "How was your shopping day?" Luke asked as you entered the apartment, clearly excited. "I picked a dress!" you announced with a widening grin and a little squeal. "You did?" Luke responded with almost equal enthusiasm. You nodded and Luke laughed jovially. "Well, can I see it?" he asked eagerly. "I don't think so," you answered thoughtfully, scrunching your nose up at him. "Why not?" he whined, jutting out his lip. His hands found yours and pulled you against him as he pleaded. "It's gonna be a surprise," you decided with a teasing grin. "You're such a tease," he chuckled with a shake of his head. "You'll see it soon enough, my love," you laughed, tapping his nose fondly. "Did you buy that - that thing that goes on your leg?" he asked with an embarrassed laugh and a tinge of red to his cheeks. "The garter?" you clarified, raising your eyebrows as he nodded. "I did not," you responded with a laugh. "That's a really awkward tradition," he mumbled with a nervous smile, "I mean, your parents and grandparents and everyone will be watching, right?" "Yeah, I guess," you answered with a frown, "But we're married then! It's not like they don't know we're counting down the minutes until we can leave and have sex in some far away country, or more likely on the way to some far away country." "How romantic," Luke scoffed, shaking his head at you in disapproval, although his eyes held only fondness. You shrugged, smiling at him innocently. "I'm so glad I'm marrying you," Luke whispered. "I'm so glad you're marrying me, too," you admitted. With a laugh, Luke leaned down and kissed you.
Calum: "Do you like the ribbons in the dark orchid?" you asked your fiance, sliding him a sample of ribbon. "Yeah, that looks great," Calum responded. "Or do you like the dark violet?" you continued as you placed a second option in front of him. "They're both nice," he answered without looking up, "Pick whichever one you think is best." "Cal, you didn't even look," you sighed in exasperation. Calum looked up and examined the ribbons closely. "Y/n, these are the exact same color, aren't they?" he asked, positive you were just testing him. "No, the dark violet is darker," you explained patiently. "They look the same to me," he admitted with a chuckle. "Never mind," you gave up, collecting the ribbons and taking a seat in defeat. "I'm sorry," Calum whined, "I wanna help, really! I just can't seem to get into the whole 'which shade of dark purple looks best with which shade of dark brown' thing, ya know?" "There's no dark brown in our wedding," you muttered tiredly as you continued to compare color samples. "What is it then? Gold?" he asked, looking over your shoulder to catch sight of your secondary color. "It's champagne," you answered, pulling a swatch of champagne fabric from the table and handing it to him. "That's a nice color," he complimented, as if he would ever disagree. "Maybe we shouldn't use purple at all," you suggested in frustration, dropping the purple swatches and ignoring Calum entirely. "No, I like the purple," Calum insisted, picking up what he hoped was the correct color, "Let's go with the dark violet." "That's dark orchid," you pointed out, unable to keep from laughing at your clueless fiance. "Well, whatever it's called this is the one I like," he replied with a winning grin
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