anyway i'm never well in crowded places so what did i expect

Flux: The Beginning (M) | 02

Prequel of Bliss | parts: 01 | 02 | 03

Character: Yoongi x reader x Jungkook

Genre/words: Smut, Poly!AU, Slow Burn, Angst / 7,162 words

Summary: One of them is your longtime crush, while the other is the man which you had shared your secrets with on many heated nights filled with lust and forbidden desire. You had sworn that it would end, and that secret crush would remain a secret.

Warning: mentions of alcohol, dirty talk, voyeurism

a/n: After re-writing and going back and forth in editing, I finally think it’ll be wise to post the whole series in three parts. Sorry if this part is much shorter, I will make it up on the last chapter :)


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anonymous asked:

oh man go wild with the daemon au, nurture it, do never stop because holy crap it's perfect ur perfect ily

:))))) 

(part one) (part two)

Andrew is waiting for Neil in the stairwell, Amaranth a silent shadow at his side. They’re mirrors of one another – her still for the first time Neil can remember, Andrew’s propped pose for once not put on.

Andrew has always been a deft hand at pretending to be sober while flirting with the crash of withdrawal, but Amaranth is no actress. This is unmistakeably something else, beyond the dull cast of Andrew’s face.

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anonymous asked:

Art major Nico with science major Will? Idk I'm trying to be helpful but I'm not very imaginative lol

Nico’s palms were sweating. The university was just so big. How would he ever get the hang of it? He’d already been late to his first two classes. Somehow most of the freshmen found their way to the class without a hitch. Then again, they all seemed to have friends that led them. Nico didn’t. He ever really saw himself as a friendly person. Not because he didn’t want to be, but because he didn’t know how to be. Whatever the reason, today, it was biting him in the ass.

It was his last class, and he swore to himself he’d make it. It was his art class anyway. This was what he lived for. After years of simple sketches developing into more complex and elegant art, he’d decided to major in art despite his father’s condescending tone about it. He would rather be in college for something he loved to do rather than for something that was only interesting because the media made it interesting, like a coroner or a pathologist or lawyer.

As he waded through the thinning crowd of individuals, he made turns until once again, he had no clue where he was. “I’m going to murder whoever designed this place,” he muttered under his breath. He glanced down the carpeted hallways. It smelled like disinfectant. The silence of the hallway was starting to make panic rise in Nico’s throat, so he fumbled into the bathroom and stayed there for a few minutes until his breaths returned to normal.

This was normal. First day at a huge college? He was bound to get lost and nervous. He didn’t have to beat himself up over it. Taking a deep breath, he grabbed his bag and slung it over his shoulder again, heaving his sketchbook into his arms just to have something to hold on to. He pushed the door open and heard a thud on the other side followed by an exclamation of surprise.

Cursing himself, he stepped out to help whoever he’d managed to hit in the face with a bathroom door. “I am so sorry,” he started saying to a head of wild sun kissed hair. “I shouldn’t have opened it that hard, I didn’t think anyone would-”

And then he looked up. He had crystal blue eyes that sparkled even under the fluorescent lights and freckles. So many freckles. His nose was red, scrunched up and hidden under his palm as he rubbed it. He had a faint smile, not mocking in the least but rather kind and understanding, though he was obviously hurt. His sandy hair stuck out around his head the way Nico expected a surfer’s to look like. Only on him it didn’t look stupid. Nico wasn’t sure if it was the lab coat or the focused eyes and steady posture, but the surfer hair did not have the dumb effect he usually associated it with.

Realizing he hadn’t said anything for a while, he repeated in a much quieter voice, “I’m so sorry.”

The guy smiled and moved his hand away. “It’s alright,” he said with a chuckle. The sound made butterflies burst in Nico’s stomach which subsequently caused a rosy blush to flood his cheeks. “Yeah, we’ve told the dean to make those doors open inward, but they never listen.” He held his hand out. “Will Solace. Neuroscientist.” He looked Nico up and down as Nico shook his hand firmly. “Something tells me you’re not supposed to be in this building.”

“You’re probably right,” Nico answered, making the split decision to laugh at his own mistake rather than try to find a smart way out of it. “I’m supposed to be in my art class. Nico di Angelo. Art major.” It didn’t seem very impressive now that he was face to face with the most attractive neuroscientist he’d ever seen, but Will smiled wider.

He chuckled again and looked at his own feet. “I’m not sure how you’ll take this,” he said, “but that’s on the other side of campus. Freshman?” Nico nodded sheepishly, wishing he could lock himself into the bathroom again. “Yeah, first day is always the hardest. Look, my car is just outside, I could drive you over.”

“Don’t you have to get back to class?” Nico asked. Although why he would reject the opportunity to be with Will a little longer was beyond him.

Again, Will gave Nico an easy smile. “It’s college, Nico. Professors don’t really care what you do.” He winked, causing Nico’s face to flush completely and gestured for him to follow as he led the way to his car. Nico followed quickly, gripping his sketchbook. He slid into the dark blue Nissan Altima Will took him to and sat rigidly. “You always this tense?”

Before he could stop himself, Nico bitterly responded, “You always give freshmen rides?”

Will’s blue eyes flickered to him for a moment before he smirked and bit his lip. “No, you’re a special case.”

That was enough to shut Nico up. After reaching the fourth stop sign, he said, “Sorry, I just don’t like when people comment on my nervousness.”

The blue eyed god only smiled. Nico now realized he did that a lot. “I get it. I didn’t mean to offend.” Another stop. “I just don’t want you to think I’ll hurt you or something.”

“I don’t,” he assured.

With a raised eyebrow, Will asked, “Then why are you so tense?”

“Well, why are you so calm?”

This caused Will to chuckle. “I just am.”

“Exactly,” Nico said. “I just am. It’s the way I am.” Will glanced over at him and put the car in park. Nico realized they were at the art building and disappointment settled in his stomach. He glanced back at Will who was holding his gaze steadily.

He bit his lip, and Nico mimicked it unconsciously. “Can I see?” he asked, gesturing at the sketchbook in Nico’s lap. Hesitantly, Nico handed the sketchbook over.

He watched anxiously as Will opened it and flipped through pages of different scenes and anatomy. Hands in prayer, interlocked with a loved one’s, holding a bouquet of flowers, legs intertwined between sheets, friendly embraces, passionate embraces, protective stances, kisses from different angles, different couples. Will’s long tanned fingers hovered over a sketch of two boys kissing which Nico had drawn at the park in his hometown. He’d only caught a glimpse of the couple, but it was enough to send him into his usual momentary isolation and create a full blown sketch of the sweet scene. Will flipped the page and was greeted by a solemn face Nico had drawn in charcoal, accenting the eyes.

Nico fidgeted nervously until Will’s blue eyes glanced at him, catching the sunlight perfectly. He didn’t say anything for a while, and in that while Nico just looked at him, waiting. Then he asked Nico for his phone. Without hesitation, Nico gave it to him. “I’m giving you my number. Once you’re done with classes today, call me. I can show you around the campus and we could get some food or something. If you’re okay with that?” Nico nodded dumbly. He received a bright smile in return. “Great. I’ll see you later then. You should hurry, you’re about half an hour late.”

Nico laughed nervously and stumbled out of the car. “Thanks.” He walked into the building and found his class. He walked in, the professor glanced at him but continued talking without a break, and the students glanced at him awkwardly. But none of it mattered. The second he sat down, his pencil was creating the outline to an easy going smirk.


I could add more but I feel I already made it too long omg remind me to draw this.

Catfish and the Bottlemen's Van McCann Talks Touring & Having Die-Hard Fans: 'I'm Buzzing Off It'

In the two and a half years since Catfish and the Bottlemen released their debut LP, The Balcony, in September 2014, the U.K.-based band have established themselves as touring workhorses. Aside from releasing another album in May of last year (The Ride), they’ve essentially been on the road nonstop.

​"Any time off we have, we like to fill it with gigs,“ the band’s lead singer Van McCann tells Billboard. "You can’t help but want to no matter where… if there’s fans around a place, we’ll go see them. The idea of stopping tours, waiting a minute, that doesn’t seem right.”

Keeping their constant touring life going, the guys just wrapped a series of shows in South America, which was the first time they’d been to the continent. Even so, they had eager fans awaiting their arrival, with fans in Argentina even greeting them with signs that read, “Catfish and the Argentineans.”

That kind of fanatical reception is what Catfish and the Bottlemen has seen all around the world, a major part of what keeps them excited about being on tour all the time. Ahead of the band setting out on the spring North American leg of their The Ride tour on May 2, Billboard caught up with frontman McCann about their recent international trek, his favorite shows they’ve played, and how Catfish and the Bottlemen’s career has only just begun.  

Did you have any expectations about how South America would go, and did the shows end up meeting those expectations?

That was honestly one of the best tours we’ve ever done. Just seeing people react the way they did to the songs, despite not even speaking all the lingo… it was very flattering and we never expected that. We’d never turned up for the first time and had that kind of response – so many people outside the hotels, outside the venues, it was crazy. They’re just so passionate about music out there, so I think they appreciate any band playing and putting on a show. I’d only heard how good it was going to be, and it was everything I’d heard and more. I’d advise [playing there] to anybody.

What are some differences and similarities that you’ve seen in the crowds in South America, the U.K., and America?

In terms of reception and us playing, it’s always been the same. The people who come to see us get completely behind the band. We love going around the world playing. 24 years old, doing arenas back home, playing around the world, playing America on a big six–week tour – I’m buzzing off it.

I think where we are right now is where we always wanted to be, even before we had a deal, when we were first started being in the band together. We very much wanted this, none of it was a fluke. It didn’t feel like too much was "right place right time” – it was very much banging down doors to get us into this position. That desire just makes you want to keep going, building the fan base and building the shows.

Do you feel like that’s made an impact on the music you’re making and how you’re touring?

I think we were making the first two albums to get us to this point, so I think you’ll see in the next one how excited we are. It’s only been two years since the first one came out, and to be able to go back home and sell out arenas, that’s real exciting for us.

It’s all very humbling. We’ve always dreamt this since we were kids, before we could even play the guitar, and to now get to this point – in August it will be 10 years for us as a band – it’s nice to see this all pay off. We still love what we do and we still have that hunger to keep growing it. To have that amount of people behind us already after two years, internationally, it’s real motivating. We didn’t need any [motivation] anyway, but it just makes you more excited and makes you want to release stuff every six months.

Which songs have you seen connect with fans the most when you perform them live?

I feel like “7,” but I don’t know if it’s because I love playing it: I’d play that song forever if I could. “Cocoon” as well – but the thing with us, and I’ve always loved this, we’ve never had a one-off tune. When you come to a show, you’ll see that they sing the whole album word for word, both albums now. I think we’re at a place where we can properly appreciate it and grab it and run with it. There’s not really a word for it.

It’s kind of like when you’re in a crowd of people, you explain something and you look around and go, “Do you know what I mean?” and the whole room can either say “Yeah, I know what you mean completely,” or they can say ‘"No I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.“ To be on stage and stand in the middle of an arena and know that everybody knows what you’re saying, it’s a mad feeling.

What have been your personal favorite shows you’ve played?

We played Wembley Arena [last November] – I think that was our biggest show we’d done at the time, and me dad brought me granddad up to see it. He’s about 300 years old, something like 90 now I think. And he stood there in a suit with his arms in the air watching, stood next to me dad, his son, and then watching his grandson, me, on stage, and then the fans react the way they do to the songs. He turns to me at the end of the night and said, “That was the best day of my life.” And I was like, "What? You’ve been alive nearly a couple hundred years! And that’s the best day of your life?” You’re always trying to do your folks proud, do your family proud, so that was a very good feeling to have me granddad to shake my hand and say that.

I loved Governor’s Ball. I got to see The Strokes for the first time and I grew up loving that band. I love playing Dublin, Ireland. I love playing Australia – my mom and dad got married over there, so it’s always a bit of a 360 for me. Back home it’s just beyond the joke, we’re selling out arenas that I grew up watching my favorite bands play; Arctic Monkeys, Oasis. I’m still a fan myself, so I still very much buzz off these bands I’m reelin’ over. To be able to go play in those venues alongside boys you appreciate, it’s a good feeling.

Source: Billboard | by Taylor Weatherby | 1st May, 2017

do not follow my footsteps

because i’ve been ignoring most of season two, except for the finale–clarke, baby, you are not going to survive just wandering on your own.

  • aka. that fic where clarke has to leave, so her friends decide to follow.

There’s not muchleft to destroy in the east, so she heads west. Pinpoints the sun and memorizesthe stars—she’ll walk until she finds what she’s looking for, or until she outruns the blood on her heels.

Well, that’s the plan at least. It’s a good one, she thinks, solid—counts for contingencies and all that. Well, most of them.

She lasts two days before anyone catches up with her.

“Seriously?”

Octavia grins, unrepentant. “’Seriously’,” she mocks, “still in snarky lone wolf mode I see.”

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thepotterinaforever  asked:

First of all, the fic you just posted is brilliant ! Second, since you have been so kind to me with your replies, I thought I'd ask for a prompt myself. JKR is currently writing the 2014 Quidditch World Cup on Pottermore, and Viktor Krum has already won two games for Bulgaria despite being considered old. My prompt is anything that could happen at the Weasley household after this - bonus points for Harry (who according to JKR is left home with his kids as Ginny covers the games) being involved.

My Cup Runneth Over

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Had Enough - Steven Universe

Hi guys, most of you know me through a quite popular Pink Diamond theory post and its follow ups which I’ve made over the past year or so. One thing you might not know is that over the past few months I’ve been losing interest in the series as a whole. Tonight I happened to catch the latest episode “Gem Harvest” and decided that it just wasn’t for me any more. I don’t know if you guys care to read what lead to this decision or not, or if you might have come to some of the same realizations yourself, but if there were ever an episode to drop a show over and leave a fandom because of “Gem Harvest” was it for me.

Again, I’m not trying to start any huge arguments or anything. Try to understand that there are people who think and read into situations and believe differently than you might and that the creators of the show do - and that every aspect of someone’s different opinion isn’t coming from a place of hate. I don’t know if Tumblr is the place to expect that mature crowd to come from but felt I had to give you guys an explanation as to why I’m leaving the fandom. I’m aware that a lot of my followers came to me and stuck around for Steven Universe theories. Anyways, give this a look if you like and feel free to unfollow at any time, I’ll understand.

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Think of the Earth

Finally posting another meme prompt fill! I unfortunately don’t know enough about Apollo and Midnighter to do them justice, but luckily Ducttapefae sent me a backup prompt–BillyTeddy in an arranged marriage.

“My life is over.”

Thomas frowned. “It’s not over, brother. It’s just…changing.”

“Right, you say that.” William scowled darkly. “You’re not being used as a peace offering to a horde of murderous aliens.”

“True. But bright side, you are saving the Earth from conquest. And hey, green is sexy.”

“They’re going to parade me around like a trophy and then marry me off to some hulking monstrosity who’s going to want to…” the younger prince shuddered. “I don’t want to think about it.”

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Menswear
Inspired by Menswear by The 1975.

Ashton

‘Well I only bought 3, what you looking at me for?’

“Weddings sucks,” you mutter under your breath for the twentieth time during the reception. Apparently that was the straw that broke the camel’s back and your mother immediately sends you outside, claiming you’re ruining your sister’s wedding. You sigh with relief when you exit the reception full of too many people pretending to know and like each other. Things like this make you sick. “Now, what did an innocent little thing like you do to get yourself kicked out of your own sister’s wedding?” You turn your head to see Ashton, the son of your parents’ best friends, leaning against the wall not too far away from you. Your parents never left you alone together anymore, claiming he was just trouble now. But trouble looks so good in black skinny jeans with tattooed arms and a joint between his fingers. “Hey, Ash,” you mumble, dropping your eyes from him. “Want one?” he asks you. “Or are you still too good for me?” You glare at him, finding him much closer to you now than he was before. “I never said that,” you accuse. “You didn’t, but your parents did and you listened,” he replies. “Still their precious girl?” You pause as he stands in front of you, trapping you against the wall with hands on either side of your head, removing one occasionally to bring the joint to his lips. “I hate weddings,” you reply. He chuckles before taking a long drag. He leans in close to you before breathing out across your parted lips. You resist the urge to cough and you can tell he’s proud. “That’s my girl,” he says before crashing his lips to yours. This was what kissing was supposed to feel like, not whatever the good guys your parents wanted you to date did. Five seconds of his lips on yours and you want more of him. He must have felt the same thing because he drops the spliff in favor of having his hands on you, tracing your curves, memorizing you with his fingertips. “I want this dress gone,” he growls in your ear. “You’re going to have to share more if you want that,” you sing softly. He groans and says, “I only brought three and that was my third.” You sigh and say, “I guess you’re going to have to be really good, aren’t you?” He chuckles before he bites down on the soft skin of your neck. You gasp in surprise, but his lips are already off your neck a second later. “Don’t worry. I’m going to make you scream my name all night,” he says before crashing his lips back to yours.

Calum

'Free bar, that’s the point. Spilling amaretto cause of previous joints. I’m sitting with a girl, fortunate placing.’

You glance over at the place card next to you, reading the unfamiliar name for the fifth time: Calum Hood. He must be a friend of the groom because you don’t know him. Your thoughts are drawn away from your absent table neighbor and back to your mother, who is already trying to ask you about your wedding. You’re still trying to finish high school and your mother has already moved onto your wedding, which, if you have your way, won’t happen for another decade. When you mom finally leaves to find the bride, you sigh with relief, bending over to place your head on the table. A short laugh coupled with the sound of a glass being placed on the table to your left makes you lift your head. You clench your jaw to keep it from dropping. He’s your age and everything your mother hates, which makes him exactly what you love. You can smell the faint smoke clinging to his clothes and see the tattoo peaking out from under his rolled up sleeve, his jacket already shed onto the back of his chair. He sits down next to you, hand already reaching for the glass he sat down seconds early. He stops when his eyes find yours. “Well, hello there, beautiful,” he smiles. “You’re certainly not who I expected to be sitting next to all night.” You swallow before finding your voice again, trying to remain confident and calm, “You’re not exactly what I expected either, Mr. Hood.” So confident turned into flirty. Not the worst thing you’ve ever done. He smirks and says, “Oh, that’s how this evening is going to go, isn’t it, beautiful? And good on you for being able to read a place card.” You smirk back at him and say, “I can do a hell of a lot more than read a place card, not that you’ll ever know.” He takes a sip from his glass before adding, “I intend to find out tonight.” You laugh, your smirk turning into a small smile before you roll your eyes. “You don’t think so?” he asks with a small chuckle. “Definitely not,” you reply just as you hear your mother sit down next to you. “Oh, I see we have another person at the table,” your mother says, her voice slowing down significantly by the end of her sentence. You know she’s taken in Calum’s appearance and doesn’t like what she sees. “Do you want to go get a drink?” you ask Calum. He shrugs and says, “Whatever floats your boat, beautiful.” You sigh before standing up, not bothering to wait for him to follow you. You head straight over to the bar, asking for a glass of amaretto before you even sit down. “You should wait for me next time, beautiful,” Calum sings softly in your ear, causing a shiver to run down your spin. “Too many guys were staring at you.” You roll your eyes before thanking the bartender and knocking back a large amount of the glass. “I’m not yours, Calum. I don’t even know you,” you tell him. “Oh, but you are mine. At least, you will be tonight,” Calum replies, one of his hands finding it way to your waist. “Excited, beautiful?”

Luke

'Who’s he? Giving it the lips? I’ve never seen him knocking about.’

Being paraded around as your family’s evidence of success at your cousin’s wedding was killing you. Thankfully, you manage to sneak away from your parents for a bit among the crowd and get to the bar. You convince the bartender that you’ve had a bad enough day to deserve a beer. “I’ll take one as well.” You turn your head to look at the boy behind you and freeze. He looks down at you and smirks, his lip piercing catching your attention. “Well, look who the cat dragged in,” he laughs. “Nice to see your boobs finally came.” You rolled your eyes and shoved his chest, “Shut up, Hemmings. How have you been anyway?” Before Luke can respond, one of the other attendees cuts in and says, “He’s been drinking and smoking all night. I can tell you that much.” Luke’s jaw clenches tightly and he moves to get up, but you clasp a hand around his shoulder, keeping him seated. “Fuck off,” Luke snaps at the guy. “You’re a stupid kid. Get your life together,” he counters before walking off. Luke’s jaw is still tight as he turns to face you. “Why did you stop me?” Luke asks through closed teeth. “Because you were going to hit him and ruin the whole wedding. Come on. Let’s get you out of here,” you tell him. He nods, leaving his beer on the bar to follow you out. You get into the elevator and go to hit the button for the ground floor, but Luke stops you and presses one of the other floor. “Better idea,” he says. You realize when you get out of the elevator he’s leading you to his hotel room. You don’t have to think about it for too long before you follow him down the hallway. He doesn’t close the door behind both of you before his lips are on yours. He tastes like alcohol and Luke and you’re addicted instantly. He groans when you wrap your arms around his neck and slide your hands into his hair. His hands tug on the backs of your thighs gently, signally for you to jump. You do as he asks. “Still angry?” you ask as his lips move to your neck. “Shut up,” he groans before biting into your neck, hard. You gasp and he smirks against your skin before soothing the spot with his tongue. “Luke, that’s going to bruise like crazy,” you complain. “Good,” he says. “You’re not going to forget about this then.” You gasp again as he leaves another dark mark on your shoulder. “Luke, I can’t hide these from my mom and we have to go back to the wedding,” you say. His hands tighten around your thighs. He pulls back so his baby blues met yours. You get distracted by the piercing through his eyebrow, the ring through his lip, and the tattoo just peaking up onto his neck. “Oh, we’re not going to go back,” he tells you. “I want you to scream loud enough that the entire wedding party ten floors below us knows where you are.” You slide a hand into his hair and say, “I’m pretty sure that guy might be right when he said you were a stupid kid. I don’t think you can make me scream that loud, Luke.” He smirks and says, “Want to bet, babe?”

Michael

'Well who’s this? Going for the kiss.’

You knock back another shot, attempting to burn the story your aunt just told you involving her cat and kidney stones out of your mind. You decide you need another since you can still remember it a little too well. Family weddings. You couldn’t think of a worse place to spend a Saturday night. Alone to boot. “Well, well, well, look who it is.” You turn your head to see Michael standing there, his hair dyed an odd mix of colors that manage to work for him, tattoos peaking out from under the edge of his suit that he can’t quite pull off like skinny jeans. You’d never tell him he looks good though. “I see you finally chose to ditch that loser boyfriend of yours,” he comments. You roll your eyes and tell him, “If you wanted to make jokes about me getting dumped, you’re about six months late, Michael.” He smirks as he sits next to you. “I’m sure I could come up with something you haven’t heard yet,” he says before ordering a beer and sitting down next to you. “What are you doing?” you ask him. He shrugs and says, “Might take me a while to make an original comment. Better get started,” as his reply. You roll your eyes before shoving yourself up from the bar, telling him to piss off on your way out of the reception room through the back entrance, hoping no one sees you on your way. You lean against the wall outside the ballroom and breathe a sigh of a relief. Away from prying extended family members and odd family friends for the first time all night, that is, until Michael slides through the door. He spots you leaned against the wall and comes to stand next to you, beer still in hand. He offers it out to you. You surrender, taking the bottle from his tattooed hand. “Thanks,” you tell him after taking a long swig. “You look like you needed it,” he sighs. “Sorry about being a jerk back there.” You stare at him wide mouthed. He adds, “I’m not apologizing again. Take it or leave it.” You take a long sip from the bottle and decide to take his apology. “You know, you actually look pretty good tonight,” he tells you. “You clean up well.” You roll your eyes and scoff as your way of saying thank you. “I meant that,” he says. “You look good. I’d do you tonight. Want to go up to my room?” You turn your head to yell at him, but instead his lips meet yours. You start to shove him away until you realize just how good his lips feel against yours. You slide your hands into his hair instead. He puts the bottle down at some point, his hands finding your hips to pull you closer. He tastes like cheap beer, but his kisses make up for the bad taste in your mouth. You hear someone shout your name. You pull away from Michael and look around his shoulder to see your mother, a horrified expression on her face. “At your cousin’s wedding, really? And who the hell is he? Do you even know him?” she shouts. Michael raises an eyebrow at you and you flash him a helpless look. Your mother grabs your arm and starts to pull you back to the wedding, but Michael grabs your other arm, pulling you back for another kiss, his tongue obviously sliding into your mouth. Your mother yanks you away as you feel Michael press a piece of paper into your hand, probably with his phone number scrawled across it. “Call me later,” he says, “and maybe I’ll do you then.” You gape at him as he turns on his heels and walks off down the hallway, leaving you to deal with your extremely angry mother. You shake your head as she starts to whisper yell at you and drag you back to the wedding. Michael is definitely going to get you into all kinds of trouble, but you definitely don’t mind.

A/N: So this is lots of new things at one time. Had to do a different format to allow for italics font. I hope you all don’t mind. I’ve seen this format floating around and decided to do it this way. Also, I hope you like the song preference thing. I’m obsessed with The 1975, so this happened. I kind of had a hard time with this though because it’s so different from my normal stuff. Please tell me what you think, especially because this is really different. Love you bunches. - Kate

because i knew you

This is an amazing fic-submission from fruipit based off of the convention AU!!! Putting it under a readmore because it’s a bit lengthy, but READ IT SERIOUSLY.

Inspired by this submission. enjoy~

~~~~

Oh god oh god oh god. This is how I die. Death by nerds. They’ll engrave it on my tombstone and everyone will laugh because it’ll say something stupid underneath like ‘the force wasn’t with her’ or ‘not shiny anymore’. Oh god what if Kristoff gets his hands on it? It’ll be even worse like- like- 'changed for good’. I don’t know if dead me could handle that. I mean, I know I’d be dead but I’d definitely turn over in my grave at least once. Oh god oh god oh go-

“Hey, do you need a table?”

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