Behind the man in white, stepping out of the smoke, came a bloody and limping Cassian Andor. He looked like a man who’d fallen twelve stories and clawed his way back to the top. He looked as beautiful as anyone Jyn had ever known.
That Black Panther leads directly into Infinity War??
As if we weren’t already collectively SHOOK by the trailer, music, cast, director, technology, Wakanda in its entirety, & countless other reasons, there’s also the possibility of seeing THANOS in this film too!!!
Hangin’ from last night!! Sorry I missed the very beginning but I was stoked and not ready to start recording
I also cross posted this onto YouTube as well in case vimeo isn’t your jam https://youtu.be/hZ67dvDqC08
Your weekly Sunday night oneshot based on the new episode! Spoilers below.
Jon and Dany have another goodbye besides the one we see in the show.
She knows she shouldn’t be going to his chambers, knows that there’s nothing she can say that will change his mind…but she has to try.
Her feet travel of their own accord, mind spinning. stomach churning. She feels slightly ill and she doesn’t know why; it’s the same sick fear that’s hovered in her chest ever since Tyrion brought up the idea of a wight hunt in the first place and doubled when Jon volunteered to lead it.
Come now, Daenerys. You can’t say that you like him now, after all that’s happened? He’s still your enemy.
She shakes her head, even though there’s no one around to see her. Not an enemy. A friend.
He has to be a friend, doesn’t he? Friends are people who smile when you smile, who make your heart fill with joy when you step into a room, and can make you laugh without trying. And Jon does that. She never realized it until now, never realized how much she might grow to love him until she might never see him again.
She knows that it’s for the best. She was never supposed to like him, to see him as anything more than a subject. But here she is, outside his closed door, with her hand raised to knock and her heart in the back of her throat.
She’s startled when the door opens and almost hits her in the face. Jon looks surprised to find her there, though she supposes that of course he would be. She’s almost surprised to be here herself. “Your Grace.”
“May I come in?”
He looks surprised, but waves her inside. “As you wish.”
She examines the room carefully-it’s spotless, as it was when he arrived. A trunk sits at the foot of his bed, packed and locked securely; there’s no other trace that he was here at all. Nothing to remember him by. He was only ever passing through anyway. He needed you, to fight in the wars to come. “You’re packed.”
He nods. “We need to leave soon, before the waves get too rough.”
There’s a silence between them, not companionable like most of their silences are, but fraught with unspoken tension. He knows why she’s here. He must. “Lord Snow-”
He sighs, deeply. “I have to lead them, your Grace. I’m their king. I swore an oath to protect them.” He’s so beautiful in the light filtering in from the window, shining off his dark eyes and hair.
Not for the first time, she wonders how it would feel loose and woven around her fingers.
“Don’t you trust me?” He throws his words back at her.
She nods. “I trust you. But I don’t trust the dead men. You must know how dangerous it is-”
“It’s always been dangerous, your Grace. It always will be. But that won’t change until we fight them, and I can’t fight two wars at once. If this is what it takes to convince Cersei-”
“How do you know she’ll even agree to meet? How do you know she’ll agree to an armistice?”
She can pinpoint the exact moment he snaps. “Well, it’s better than staying here and doing nothing.”
“You’re no good to them dead.”
He’s silent for a minute as he looks at her, with something like surprise in his eyes. “I wouldn’t think that you’d care.”
“Me neither.” But maybe I do. A little bit. She looks down at the ring on her finger, twisting it around nervously. She can see her reflection in the bright silver, in the white mother of pearl inlay and the tiny three headed dragon sigil cut into the back. “You’re not what I expected.”
“People very rarely are. You’ve certainly found ways to surprise me, your Grace.”
“You touched Drogon. Weren’t you frightened?”
He looks taken aback. “I didn’t mean to. It just…I don’t know how to explain it. I could just feel that he wouldn’t hurt me.”
“That would be a hard thing to explain to your sister.”
His smile looks unexpected-and genuine. “You’re the Dragon Queen. I’m sure you would find a way, if you set your mind to it. Like you’ll win the war against Cersei and get your throne.” He doesn’t say what she knows he’s thinking: if you don’t die in the one against the dead.
“Come to my coronation. I’ll save you a seat.”
“Maybe I will.” For a moment he looks almost confused…and then he looks away from her, almost embarrassed. “You asked me, earlier, about what Ser Davos said-”
She interrupts him, even though all she wants to do is listen to him talk. She’d listen to the cadence of his voice for hours and hours, if only it would make him stay. “Don’t tell me now. You can tell me when we see each other next, whenever that might be.”
A faint smile plays across his features. “Hopefully sooner rather than later.”
“I’m counting on it.” She slips the ring off her finger and places it in his palm. It’s far bigger than hers but it’s warm and soft. He looks down at her in disbelief as she curls his fingers around it, holding it tightly. “Take this, please. As a token of my favor in the battles to come.”
His expression is unreadable, but there’s a look in his eyes that makes her wonder if he’s about to kiss her. “Your Grace-”
“I insist.” The words take a bit of effort to get out, because she’s not used to saying them. “Your Grace.”
He’s still staring at her, almost mesmerized. “I don’t have anything to give you-”
“I didn’t ask for anything in return-”
He pulls her close suddenly, but tenderly, arms holding her in a tight embrace. She closes her eyes on reflex, breathing in the smell of him-the smell of furs and wood and wide open spaces she’s never seen before. And underneath all of it, there’s just a hint of snow. When she looks up at him in curiosity, his lips brush her forehead and she can feel herself tremble under his touch. “It’s not much, but…”
“It does the job.” She disentangles herself carefully and takes a step back, her hand feeling suddenly exposed without the ring.
The distance between them stretches like a cavern, impassable.
Until she finds herself looping an arm through his, looking straight ahead. “May I escort you downstairs?”
“I believe that’s my job,” he says, and he smiles at her-a real smile, one that makes her world shine a little brighter and does nothing to put her fear at ease. But he’s dead set on it and there’s nothing she can do to change his mind.
Yes, she’ll miss him when he’s gone. She can only pretend for so long, even to herself.
Next week is going to end me, you guys. Really.
I write Jonerys fics-and lots of them lol! Taking requests now!
A/N: So I had this idea and then I had a dream of this idea so I decided to go with it. I thought about make it a series but I’m not sure yet. We’ll see how it goes. I had no idea it would come out as long as it did, the words just kept come. Anyways, let me know what you think! BE HONEST. And if you want this to maybe be a series let me know that as well! :) Also I suck a titles I’m sorry.
request: Omg I just read your jughead imagine and it haves me thinking, can you do a one shot thing of Jason Blossom not really being dead and sneaks into the reader’s bedroom in the middle of the night or something too explain to her why he faked his death (you can make up the reason because I’m not that clever) but yeah it’s just really sad and full of fluff idk I’m weird.
requested by: anonymous
A/N: Can you believe part 2 is finally here??? I can’t, but I am ecstatic to be posting this!! I loved writing the first part, but this part is going to be a little different. It is going to be written in first person!! Hopefully it is loved like the other one. okay, carry on. love you guys. xx, aubree (p.s. part three??)
The next morning was, well, quite easy. I had made sure Jason was hidden before I made my way to my father’s work. I needed to tell him that I was going to be testing out of school and then promptly leaving Riverdale, for good.
My head is deep in my forearms because really I’m ashamed of everything I’ve done in the last couple of weeks and I don’t want to look anyone in the eye right now. The guilt is eating me from the inside out because as much as Shiro tries to convince me that I can’t be held reliable, that everyone should be held accountable, he doesn’t know the half of what I’ve done and I can’t… let them all believe that the minor impacts they might’ve had on Lance’s decision is anything compared to the hits I’ve delivered.
Both metaphorically and literally, my knuckles ache with the memory of his cheek beneath them, and my chest aches with the memory of the way his blue eye widened before it swelled shut. What have I fucking done? How could I… Lance, he’s an annoying guy sometimes, never on purpose, but just seeking reactions. He talks loudly and dramatizes almost everything to an unrealistic extent, all about physically contact, bumping our shoulders together, fist bumping, high fiving, insistent hugs that no one would admit they appreciate, even friendly kisses on the cheek. Most often, he kisses Hunk. Yes, he’s a little much, but I’d never… hurt him.
I never thought I would, but I guess I was wrong. I’ve been wrong about a lot of the things I swore I’d never do to him for a few weeks now and I would take any one of his bad puns and shoulder bumps just to go back and let him know I’m sorry and that he’s wanted. He’s so wanted because now that he’s gone… I don’t know what to do with myself.
You only know you love her when you let her go.
“It’s…” I don’t think I’ve ever seen Allura tear up. Eyes much more blue that Lance’s with moisture teetering dangerously on her long lashes. “It’s all of our faults. We each made this mistake. And as a whole, it broke Lance down until he could no longer take it.”
“No, you don’t understand,” I knot my fingers through my hair I wish he would make fun of and knit my brows, “I - I was so much worse than any of you, we - I - he just - and then I - ”
“Not everything’s about you, Keith.” Pidge snaps, ripping their glasses of their face aggressively. “You picked the wrong fucking time to be emo.”
“Language.” Shiro scolds softly.
“Fuck my language!” They bite back, hugging their stomach like it hurts. I don’t blame them. I’m sick to my stomach too. “Lance took of with the heir to the Galra Empire because we never paid attention to him and Keith’s trying to make it all about himself again! This is,” If a tear rolls down a pale, freckled cheek, no one points it out, “it’s about… him. We have to get him back.”
For the most part, Matt has been quiet, which I don’t understand since he’s the one who reported all this information to us, much longer after we could do anything about it. Sometimes, I’m startled by how similar Pidge and Matt look, even down to the round, gold wire rim glasses. He speaks up now, though. “He’s made his decision. Even if it’s the wrong one, Lance has to find that out himself. He wanted to belong so badly, he was blinded by it and ran to anyone he thought loved him and if we try and rescue him now, he’ll learn nothing.”
“You’re kidding, right?” Hunk asks timidly, eyes puffy and nose red. “You’re not suggested we just leave him with that purple creep?”
A growl rips out of my mouth. “You just wanna take his place! You don’t get a fucking opinion!”
“Keith, language!” Shiro warns.
“No, why is he even here?” I point at him in disgusted accusation and maybe it’s a way to cope with the blame that rests so heavily on my shoulders, and I’ve never been good at control. “Lance wouldn’t have left if he didn’t think someone could fill in for him!”
“Oh, shut the fuck up,” Pidge scoffs with an eye roll, perching their glasses back on their narrow nose. “Lance didn’t care about how Voltron was impacted, he was gonna leave whether Matt was here or not because we’re assholes!”
The thought burns. That it didn’t matter if Matt was here or not. Maybe it’s because it’s true. I, for one, didn’t care when Matt arrived, only accepted him into the small group of people I tolerate because Shiro was nuts about the guy. Only acknowledged that he existed when he showed me a thing or two about adapting a better fighting technique. But, I still treated Lance so badly. I… I said that awful thing to him that I didn’t even mean. I can never voice my opinions correctly, so when it all bubbles up inside, I just blurt things out and honestly I’m not used to communicating through anything other than actions.
I was angry. I think he got the message from the blood decorating his pink lips and the flesh engorging around his socket.
“It doesn’t matter now, okay?” Shiro exclaims, rubbing his mechanic hand over his stressed face. “All that matters is he’s gone and somehow, we have to get Lance back. For all we know, Slav’s prediction is completely wrong and Blue won’t accept a new Paladin. If that’s the case, we’re at a completely defenseless state with Lance in the hands of a dangerous sociopath.”
“Hey!” Allura frowns. “I never said he was dangerous.”
“Well, he’s a Galra, so?” Hunk slumps over at his station, pulling his headband off. His bangs fall across his forehead. I really hope my bangs don’t look like that. I feel more upset just looking at his hair. His headband’s been holding back his emo this whole time?
“Well, I’m Galra, so.” I mumble. “Thought you learned to stop making assumptions based on someone’s species.”
“Keith, dude, I didn’t - ”
“Lotor and I,” The princess intercepts lightly, probably to stop another argument from occurring, “we were childhood friends. This may slightly warp my perception of him and his intentions, but based on what I know of his personality, he would never take someone against their will. This is what Lance wants and as long as it continues to be what he wants, he’ll still be with him. Lotor’s too… gentle to keep someone if they’re not happy with him.”
A grim silence falls above us, like a blue chandelier, dangling from a single thread, threatening to fall, glass threatening to shatter and spray ten feet in every direction. Blue, like his eyes, blue like his heart, blue like his expression when I hit him that night. Blue as a constant reminder, blue to tell me that I’ve fucked up.
“So we just… have to wait? Wait until he comes back if he even wants to after how we’ve treated him?” I ask hopelessly, sliding down into my seat like a pile of dead weight. God, I feel like I’m drifting away. “And what about Voltron?”
Allura turns on instinct to Matt, who smiles sadly. “I… I believe if Blue wanted anyone to ever take Lance’s place, she would’ve wanted it to be me.”
“No.” Coran says simply. I’m… surprised. I haven’t heard him talk this entire discussion. “This isn’t right and you lot know that it isn’t. Slav’s predictions should never have had a say in whether or not you treat your valued teammate with respect. I’ve tried to tell you all to not take this path, but you brushed me off as easily as you did to Lance. Now…” He looks to the side, getting teary himself as he slinks down into his station, heaving a sigh and combing his fingers through his neat, orange hair. “Now, it’s up to the teammate you used for your pleasure whether or not Voltron will survive.”
Those words of his could’ve been taken as anything, mind changing words around so that it makes sense. But, when he looks right at me with tired, narrowed brown eyes, I know exactly what he meant and my brain doesn’t have to change a thing about those words to understand. Coran and Lance were so close. It shouldn’t come as a surprise that Lance seeks reconciliation in him, who must be like a Shiro figure to him when Shiro was preoccupied. I never knew why they got so close, though.
All I know is that they were close enough that Lance told Coran of our flings. And he is not happy with me. He, while the others blame themselves, knows who is guilty in this room.
If there’s pee on the seat it’s my pee,
battery’s dead I killed it, canary at the bottom
of the cage I bury it, like God tromping the sky
in his undershirt carrying his brass spittoon,
raging and sobbing in his Hush Puppy house
slippers with the backs broke down, no Mrs.
God to make him reasonable as he gets out
the straight razor to slice the hair off his face,
using the Black Sea as a mirror when everyone
knows the Black Sea is a terrible mirror,
like God is a terrible simile for me but like
God with his mirror, I use it.
Most of these are taken from my Wattpad account! (Twtrash01)
Send me requests for the following Fandoms: Teenwolf, Vampire Diaries, Dolantwins, OUAT(Peter Pan, Robbie Kay, Supernatural, Suicide Squad, The 100. Basically I’ll write for any fandom. I’ll write non-smut as well. Be specific in what you want!
Stiles hasn’t been sleeping lately, he’s been having nightmares. So I’ve decided to stay with him for a few nights.
Genre: angst and fluff Word Count: 2720 Summary: As Baz’s frustration grows, he’s goes out onto the lawn in the middle of the rain. But Simon follows him.
I grip my
pen tight, as I stare out of the window over the lawn. I am overly
aware of his presence behind me. He thinks I’m doing my homework, but
I’m not. I’m not even moving the pen over the paper, in this moment I
am entirely still. Calm. A moment of peace whereas a war is raging
around me. On a normal day, I wouldn’t be here. I’d have football
practise and therefore a chance to finally escape him, if only for a
few hours. But it’s raining cats and dogs and practice is cancelled.
I watch as
the rain pours over the world, and wish it could wash away my sorrows
as easily as it runs down the glass. I wish it could put out my
burning heart, I wish it could save me from the flames eating me
alive. Or, not alive. After all, I’m dead already.
I can hear
him shuffling on his bed and wonder why he’s not leaving. Why is he
putting me through this torture? Hasn’t he hurt me enough already?
being fair on him, I know that. I’m perfectly aware that none of this
is his fault, neither the increased beating of my dead heart, that
doesn’t feel dead at all, nor the anxiety seated in my stomach due to
the knowledge that one day, he will end me. But it’s not fair on me,
I can hear
crunching behind me, as he stuffs his face with something that are
probably left-overs from today’s meal. I spin the pen in my hand and
calculate my options.
should just provoke him until he almost goes off. That’ll get him
leaving. But I’m tired of playing games. I’m so tired of it all, of
waking up every morning to this disaster of a thing that I’m not even
able to call life. If one would at least let me have that, the
privilege of calling myself alive. But I don’t, and Simon Snow is
sitting across from me, twice as alive as I ever could be. It’s
almost as though sparks were flying from his body. And I’m flammable,
one day they’ll catch me.
ignore him and go back to my studies. But I’m not good at ignoring
him. There’s no such a thing as ‘casual’ with Simon Snow. I’ll lose
my mind if I treat him normally, or worse, I’ll cave in. So my only
option left is to comply to the role I’ve been given, which is to be
his enemy. Even though I’m falling apart underneath it all, I can
take it. But not today, I don’t think. It’s been going on for too
long. I’ve been here for nearly eight years, with Simon Snow a few
feet across from me, and I’ve had it.
My thoughts are such a mess right now… so let’s just dive in with a recap of each member:
S.Coups - Wow. My ult bias for Seventeen. He OWNED that stage. He was so much more intense with his dancing and rapping it left me shook with my mouth hanging open everytime I watched him (so the whole concert tbh).
Jeonghan - AN ACTUAL VISUAL GOD. Like, listen, if you don’t appreciate this man’s beauty then you’re blind. But also his vocals, especially during the unit songs, were just so amazing.
Joshua - Literally I couldn’t get enough of him, he was just all-around perfect. Great voice, great performance, great English, wow.
Jun - wOW. Jun walked onto that stage tonight and made it HIS. The My I performance left the entire audience in awe. He was constantly working it and reminding his stans as to WHY he was their bias.
Hoshi - This boy can move. My eyes kept being drawn to him because he knows how to make people watch him during his performance. Also he was super sweet and cute with the crowd, always saying “I LOVE YOU DALLAS!”.
Wonwoo - He literally could’ve stood on stage and did nothing and we would have lost it. He was such a cute softie during the talks but then he would change it up with his powerful deep raps during the songs. It was rough.
Woozi - By far the most impactful singer in my opinion. They were all amazing (don’t get me wrong), but Woozi’s raw passion and emotion and CONFIDENCE was just overwhelming. So proud of him.
DK - He thicc. Like slim thicc. There was a part where I was just staring at him during Habits because “wow he’s gorgeous” and also “wow look at those THIGHS” He’s so perfect I’m dead.
Mingyu - The only tall member (jklol). Told the crowd he loved us IN THE INTRO. Constantly being Mingyu and snatching every weak soul in the vicinity.
The8 - uM? Again. WOW? Outstanding in every sense. Even when there was 12 other men dancing and drawing the attention of the audience, I always found my way to him.
Seungkwan - Vocals vocals vocals. We all know he had golden pipes, but I was shocked on how steady and soothing his voice was all while remaining powerful. As always, super sweet and smiley with the fans.
Vernon - He snatched me. Like legit he’s one of my biases now. The English was greatly appreciated. The rapping was greatly appreciated. The disrespect however? Still appreciated smh I’m weak for Hansol.
Dino - DINO. WOW. I’m still not over his glow up from this past year or so. He’s so gorgeous, and he LOOKED me in the eye and SENT me a heart. I’m gone. The whole concert I think he was trying to get me to bias him because he was just doing. the. most.
So, uh. You know when you go to a k-pop concert and they come on stage and you’re like “oh they’re so tall!”. Yeah, definitely did not happen tonight. (except with Mingyu.) ;p
EACH MEMBER HAVING A DIFFERENT COLOR SUIT IN THE BEGINNING.
Sweet intros, cutesy VCR’s, Adorable always.
So many clean, crisp, perfected performances. Seventeen is known for their choreography and synchronization but it’s jaw-dropping when you see it in person. They move like one person and it’s so crazy to watch.
Vernon telling us that when they were backstage they were so excited about how excited and energetic the crowd was.
They were so sincere with us the whole time, it NEVER felt scripted or like they were just saying what they had to say.
Uh. The unit performances:
Hip-Hop Unit - Slayed. Every. Hoe. In. The. Building. They know they killed it. They know they’re hot. They just KNOW.
Performance Unit - They brought their game. They let Dallas know what K-pop is supposed to look like and left their footprint on everyone’s soul. Honestly I couldn’t tell you a lot about the vocals during these stages because I was just so shaken from the choreo. Dance on my grave.
Vocal Unit - AMAZING. I feel so guilty that I ever slept on them. They have talent oozing out of their bodies. Passion, emotion, intimacy. They harbored it in every word they sang.
MY I is going to haunt me for the rest of my life. So much chemistry both with Jun/The8, but also them with the audience. The choreography with that bungee-cord-thing? Iconic. Still don’t understand how they did it so seemlessly.
Dino sent me a heart. Still dead.
So sweaty. I’m drooling. (I could see S.Coups’s from my seat and I was highkey staring.)
Over 10 minutes of them just saying goodbye. You could really tell that they had a good time. Made my heart warm. <3
Well that’s all I can muster up right now. Don’t worry I’ll edit in the morning when I have a clear mind.
word count: 2.6k
The blank screen stared back at me just as it had since the past half-hour. The thirty-seventh document in need of evaluation was no different than the others – plain and repetitive. If I’d have known, Mr. Kim had given me five copies each of the same document just in different orders. Every day stacks of paperwork were plunged atop my desk by the devil himself. He wouldn’t spare me a word, not even a glance. A fraction of my sentiments dwelled on the flames of agitation fed by the silent treatment he was giving me. But what difference was I when all I did was watch him disappear through my doorway without a word? He surely kept his word from that night.
‘I’m gonna punish you hard as soon as this trip is over.’
(wasn’t really feelin’ the angst today so here’s some fluff)
(also I don’t remember if Isaac had his own bike, but I know he used one of the twin’s one time so just roll with it okay.. Also someone tell me if he had one because I can’t remember and it’s killing me)
Today couldn’t get any worse. A test in every class, dark and gloomy weather, and having to stay late and work on a group project.
Group projects are the absolute worst, and what was even worse was the fact that only one other group member could stay and help: Isaac.
Now don’t get me wrong, Isaac was a sweet piece of eye candy and my crush on him was just a little huge, but he doesn’t exactly do wonders for my focus, or ability to string together coherent sentences if we’re being honest.
It was about 7pm, and Isaac and I were almost done with our whole project. Who knew Isaac was such a history buff? Excuse me while I swoon.
Just as I was admiring him, the cute sweaters, his smile, and his love of renaissance history, and thinking wow he really is the whole package, I noticed his mouth moving and I snapped myself out of my daze.
“Uh, what?” I asked, trying to conceal the blush creeping up onto my cheeks.
“I said I think we’re done, does everything look good to you?” he asked, confused look on his face.
Of course it does, you included.
“Yeah, yeah it does, good work” I replied, still trying to hide the red of my cheeks.
“Thanks, you too” he added with a slight smile.
God, that smile kills me.
We packed up our stuff and left the library together, making our way towards the parking lot. Wow, I forgot he had a motorcycle. How hot is that.
“Hey, thanks for staying to help me tonight, I really appreciate it” I told him with a smile and a blush.
“No problem, I’ll help you anytime” he replied.
I was too busy freaking out on the inside to notice him smirk at me while we both walked away. I sat in my car and took a deep breathe, trying to comprehend what just happened. When I finally calmed down, I stuck my key in the ignition, ready to go home.
What I heard when I did made my heart drop. The loud cranking of my engine made my mood decline just as quickly as it rose earlier.
“No no no, don’t you die on me” I pleaded.
What am I supposed to do? No one else it at school this late, and my phone was dead. I slumped back in my seat and eventually laid my head against the steering wheel, a feeling of dread washing over me.
I was pulled out of my own swirling thoughts by the sound of tapping on my window. I quickly look up and see a worried Isaac outside leaning against his bike, motioning for me to open the door. I pushed the car door open and swung my legs out to the asphalt to face him.
“Car troubles?” he asked, still looking a bit worried.
“Yeah, it won’t start and my phone is dead. It’s just been a fantastic day” I reply sarcastically.
A few seconds after I spoke it looked like a light bulb went off in his head, causing a smug smirk to appear on his face.
“You wanna ride?”
He’s offering me a ride home on his motorcycle. I think my heart just stopped.
“Um, yeah, thanks” I answered.
He shot me a toothy grin before giving me a helmet and telling me to hop on. When I did, he reached back and grabbed both my arms, leading them to wrap around his waist as he lifted the kickstand.
Riding through Beacon Hills at night was almost relaxing. The crisp fall air, the color changing leave rustling in the wind, and the soft city lights. Plus, the beautiful boy I’m holding onto.
As he pulled up to my house, I was pleasantly surprised when he helped me off the bike and walked me to my door. The dim light above the door made his soft curls shine.
“Thanks again, Isaac” I half-whispered, looking away.
His strong hand came under my chin, tilting my head upwards to meet his gaze. His eyes flickered down to my lips before his gentle lips met mine. My head was spinning and my heart was swelling.
Maybe today wasn’t such a bad day after all.
After what seemed like forever, our lips broke apart, his body still towering over mine.
“Anytime, Y/N, anytime”.
Writer’s Note: Hey everybody! Isaac fluff for the win! Thank you for the request anon, and as always, I hope you like it! And I’d love some feedback! -M
They say your entire life flashes in front of your eyes the moment before you die… That might be true if you’re terminally ill or your parachute doesn’t open. But if death sneaks up on you, the only time you have to think is: “Aw, shit.”
Okay, I need you to give a blow by blow on how you met your Rick, so I can use it as a map to find my own, lol.
Have I not shared this? Huh. (And sorry for the delay!)
Many stars had to align for this. and the following should be noted:
- He won the Talking Dead contest on his second try - If I had not been living in Los Angeles, this would not have happened, even if i had won tickets - I had no tickets when I went to that event - I worked at that time, literally four blocks away from the Hollywood Forever Cemetery - I had only started cosplaying as Michonne since SDCC ‘16 - I have been going to SDCC for the last…seven years, and he had been going for the last, like twenty, and we never ran into each other. Can you imagine that? His tall ass is walking around the floor at comic con, dressed as Rick Grimes, even by the Negan trailer, and we never saw each other - Back to my not having a ticket: me being me, I showed up anyway, dressed as Michonne, sure as shit someone would let me in
Okay, so I roll up there dressed, right, and the lines were already moving. I scan the crowd, and see this one dude–the only dude–who appeared to be there alone. Ignoring the line, I cross over three rows and walk up to him and ask, “Excuse me, but did you come here alone?” Low and behold, he has. Even better? His friend was supposed to go, but canceled the night before. I asked if he wouldn’t mind I go as a stand-in for his friend, to which he agreed.
This also has to be noted: You can’t be afraid. Many people who didn’t have a ticket would not have showed up like I did. I grew up watching Nick at Nite, and binging on I Love Lucy. Lucy Ricardo always had a scheme going. Even if it didn’t always work, she tried.
As my mother always told me, “Nothing beats a fail but a try.”
I showed up, had two big brass one’s to ask a total stranger for a ticket, and I got in. Once inside of the grounds, the helpful stranger and I parted ways, and I went to go find seating near the Talking Dead stage. Once I found my seat, I headed back towards the front gates to get a signal on my phone (I was having someone technical difficulties at that time with it; new one now!). As I was walking towards the front, I see him walking towards me, headed in.
For a split second, I was a bit put off because, I am not totally keen on s1 Rick cosplay. I’m more of a murder!coat kind of gal. Anyway, my criticism of his cosplay vanished when he smiled at me. There were a lot of thoughts going through my head–my phone situation, trying to hurry back cause the show was starting soon, blah blah blah, but I wanted to talk to him. And…I didn’t.
LAME. TOTAL FAIL.
But I figured I’d see him inside.
And I didn’t, lmao. Crazy, right?
It took a cosplaying Andrea to bring him to me, literally. She wanted a photo op with both of us, lol.
There was one moment where it was just the two of us taking photos for fans, and he had his arm wrapped around me, and someone yelled, “You should kiss her, like on the show!” And I looked up at him, and he looked down at me, and he gave the most devilish smirk. Between the lights flashing and him looking at me like that, I would not have minded.
Anyway, security broke the photos up, because the show was starting. This time, I was not going to let him get away. Nope! Just as I was about to mention giving him my number, he took my hand and shook it.
Me: Brandenn, right? Brandenn: Yes. Jill? Me: Uh huh? Brandenn: [stares at me, unblinking and quite serious] After the show, I will find you.
I was totally smitten by his certainty about that. Still, I saw him after the show before he saw me, and I made sure to be in his line of vision, in case he forgot…
In short, my advice would be this: You can’t be afraid. If you see your Rick, go and talk to that man. Maybe he’s interested, maybe he’s not, but my god, isn’t it worse to not know?