Look at them lanterns


Never The One

Daryl has always liked you, he’s just always been too shy to tell you. When he finally works up the courage, he starts to wonder why you would even bother with someone like him.

  • Daryl Dixon x Reader
  • Warnings; Language
  • 1042 Words

Daryl heard the shouts and leaves his tent to investigate. It’s been a long time since anyone raised their voice around here, he wasn’t quite sure who it may be. Everyone, aside from him, was happy. Daryl couldn’t find his place here, not like the rest of them.

He looks around in the darkness and sees a lantern shining in the distance and two figures dancing around it. No, they aren’t dancing.

One is you, the woman he watched day after day, wishing he had the courage to talk to you for more than a minute. But he was weak, and waited too long. Now you’re with some hotshot guy who thinks he can control you, that doesn’t seem to be going too well.

The hotshot Daryl hates was moving around the light, throwing his arms into the air and shaking his head. Daryl thinks about stepping in, but he didn’t want to make the matters worse. He couldn’t clearly hear what they were saying, just that you were both angry.

Finally, the guy leaves, walking away from the camp and into the forest, where Daryl hopes a geek is waiting to tear his face off. He could step in and be the hero, the good guy in those movies he likes so much.

You sit on the picnic table, burying your face in your hands. The moon shines in your hair, making it seem like it was glowing in the night. Daryl longs to run his fingers through those locks, wanting to know what it feels like to hold you close.

He starts to move away, but his judgement got the better of him. He makes his way over to the table and stands there, hands awkwardly swinging at his sides. “S’wrong?” He asks, avoiding making eye contact.

You lift your head and he can feel your eyes watching him, though softly, not boring into him like he imagined. “It’s nothing to worry about.” You fake a smile and wipe underneath your eyes.

Daryl licks his lips and scratches the back of his head. “You can tell me. Y’know, if you wan.” He shrugs his shoulders. He notices a small change in your voice as you motion for him to sit.

“I’m just bad at relationships.” You sigh and play with the paint on your nails, what was left of them, anyway.

Daryl sits down, straddling the seat and leaning forward on his hands, the muscles in his arms flexing a little as he did this, though he was oblivious to the way it made you look at him. “You two? Ya seem pretty damn happy to me.” He sniffs. He was never comfortable talking about you and surfer boy.

You place your elbows on the table and hide your face in your hands. “It sucks, Daryl. One minute we’re happy and the next… He’s telling me I’m worthless.” You do your best to choke down the sob, not wanting to cry in front of Daryl, or anyone for that matter. “I’m never the one.”

This causes Daryl’s throat to tighten and his mouth to turn into a frown. He wants to tell you his feelings, tell you that you’re the one for him and always have been, but you couldn’t feel the same way about Daryl, not his stupid little redneck that was abused as a child, into early adulthood.

“I try.” You laugh pathetically. It’s dry, almost a sob. You look down at the dirt between your bare feet and suck your lip between your teeth.

Daryl tries to think fast, wondering how to make you feel better. He glances over at you and quickly looks down at the ground. “You deserve… someone better.” He says carefully.

“Oh yeah.” You dab under your eyes with the sleeve of your dirty shirt. “Because there are so many to choose from. It doesn’t matter. Guys always want one thing and that’s to get laid. Even in this world, it’s all the same.”

Daryl shifts uncomfortably and furrows his eyebrows. “Not all…” He shrugs.

You look up at him and a smile breaks out across your lips. “I guess the good ones are always hidden, huh?”

He nods, his tongue gliding across his lips again. Daryl tries not to look up at you, scared but also unsure on what he’ll find.

“Daryl?” You lean a little closer to him. “You’re blushing.”

He was so preoccupied on avoiding your gaze that he hadn’t realized his cheeks were on fire, burning as if he were standing in direct sunlight. He turns his head, hoping the darkness will hide his brick red face, if only.

You giggle gently.

“I… I think yer—“ Daryl squeezes his eyes closed and curses himself. His older brother always told him he was a pussy, that he would never be with a girl. For a long time, Merle told Daryl he would die alone, and Daryl still believes him.

Daryl clears his throat, keeping his eyes shut tight.

“Daryl…?” You ask.

His leg bounces as he tries to think of a way out of this. “I could… take care of ya…” He says instead, though it doesn’t sound much better than him wanting to call you pretty.

“Oh…” You sound surprised. He knew he should have just walked off. His brother was right—he would never be with anyone.

Daryl goes to get up but he feels himself being pulled back down. He looks over and sees you, leaning over the table with your hand on the back of his vest. He slowly sits back down as you do, his leg still bouncing as he tries to prepare himself for what’s to come.

“Why didn’t you say anything sooner?” You ask.

Daryl sticks his thumb in his mouth and chews on a piece of skin. He shrugs his broad shoulders and his muscles seem to flex in the dim light again. “Didn’t think you’d care for me.”

You smile. “If you take care of me, I will take care of you.”

Daryl’s head snaps up and he stares at you for a minute, clearly caught off guard by your answer. Then, he smiles at you. It was a genuine smile, one that has yet to be seen by you.

anonymous asked:

can you say more about jason's titans team in the art of subtlety? (I love happy AUs)

I’m sorry it took so long to get to this, I’m drowning in asks atm. 

Here are some facts about Jason’s team of Titans: 

  • Jason had spent time with Dick’s team on a few occasions despite Bruce being very :/ about it (as he was in Post-Crisis canon). Connor Hawke was the next to show up and did much the same thing, on Dinah’s recommendation (Roy and Ollie were, uh, not speaking). Eddie was the third one and it was at that point that the idea of them forming their own team happened and Dick thought it would be good for them. 
  • Batman was like ‘uh, no’ but who listens to Batman? Not Dick Grayson. 
  • Dick’s generation had lots of freedom but Jason’s team has more ‘supervision’ from the older Titans. Jason complains to complain, Eddie thinks the Titans are cool so doesn’t mind, and Connor is chill. It works out pretty well because the older Titans know what it’s like to have overbearing mentors and so don’t act like that–generally. 
  • Rose Wilson turned up one day after Nightwing and Jericho had a confrontation with Deathstroke and came back to the Tower very confused and with a teenage girl and no one has ever pried the full story out of either of them. She bonded for life with Jason very fast and at some point a rule was put in place that they must keep Connor between them at all times in hopes that his chill would rub off and stop their hivemind. 
  • It didn’t really work. 
  • Kyle was the last member to join and it was a sunny day and the Titans were hanging out when Hal Jordan showed up with a kid who had a Lantern ring. Hal gave them a frazzled look and left the kid with them ‘for like five minutes i promise’ and then he never came back. 
  • He actually went to go talk to Kyle’s mom but that didn’t go so well and he had to negotiate between the Guardians and Kyle’s mom but Kyle prefers to leave that part out. 
  • All of them are collectively and individually banned from a certain room on the second floor of the Tower after an incident during their first year as a team that all of them (Dick’s team and theirs) signed an oath in blood to never, ever mention again. 

:D ? 

I don’t own anything but the fanfic!

Toby Fox owns Undertale, Goth @Nekophy, Palette: @angexci . Error/Geno/fresh @loverofpiggies  Reaper:@renrink Retconned Goth… well i own this version. Underswap!Sans by Popcornp1nce.  Dream by @jokublog Cross!Sans and Cross!Chara by @jakei95

If Chara wasn’t a ghostly being bound to Cross they’d be buffing there nails smugly, after all ne already knew the kids reaction to the other part of there gift would be amusing.

Moments later he heard the sound of Goth running downstairs from his room, and a small crash at the bottom of the stairs.

There was a moment of silence.

“Ow ow.. ouch…” Goth whimpered.

“I’m okay!” Goth finally said.

Chara snickered.

Moments later Goth came in looking a bit ruffled in his new clothing.

And he looked adorable in them too, in his hands was the Lantern containing a bound save point.

“What the heck?” Goth said holding it up.

“Don’t ask, no really don’t,” Cross said and Chara shruddered, that world was just wrong.


It was a world of happy ending and Chara and Cross had of course landed in it to get there own happy ending.

They stared.

And stared again.

“I don’t care, this world must be destroyed,” Cross said.

“Yeah anything in this world.. just so wrong,” Chara said grossed out.

In as few words as possible, naked sex world.

That world they quickly destroyed.

And Chara hacked one save point from its files that hadn’t been corrupted, they had an idea.


“Just such a wrong timeline,” Chara said.

“…” Cross said trying not to remember that world and trying not to remember that worlds Sans.

“But.. why give me a save point?” Goth said, deciding not to ask as Cross was reacting as if he’d come across cows.

“Well.. it was a thought. You were wiped from all realities, a save pint saves a point in time.. maybe one bound to you will keep you stable enough,” Chara said, after all there was a few spooky places he wanted to scare the kid at.

“I could be outside longer…” Goth said, looking out a window to the world of endless white anti-void.

“Want to test it?” Chara said.

“I always did want to see Blueberry’s world,” Goth said.

“Er… you’ll have to hit that world without me,” Cross said coughing and looking away, after all the papyrus in swaptale still had it out for him.

Really.. it wasn’t like the Sans brigade hadn’t manged to grab those timelines codes back.

The smoking Paps could sure keep a grudge.

And it wasn’t his fault Chara got in control.

He still wasn’t letting have Snowden from underfell back though.


with a cheer Goth landed, he looked at the world around him seeing a city not to far away.

He couldn’t wait to see hwo this lantern reacted, or see Blueberry again.

And finally have Taco’s with others stealing them.


anonymous asked:

Have become high level obsessed with your Russian Revolution Rebelcaptain fics tonight. Would you be interested in a prompt for that series? Since so much is based on the aristocrats decadence of the period, I'd be so into Jyn tracking Cassian to some seedy safe house, with a bunch of gruff Revolutionaries that really have no time for any raucous, and proceeding to seduce him-- and arriving in a fur coat/cape, stockings, and nothing else. Bonus points if you teases Cassian about sharing w/comrad

(Favorite AU to write because I am always up to my neck in period dramas, I think all of these are going to get a Great Comet song-specific theme because it’s what I listen to to write this one)

Read on Ao3

Cassian slips easily into her world. Seamlessly, without question of his presence. In the right clothes and the right words. An unassuming gentleman, a desirable eye to have settled on from across a crowded room. 

He can’t picture her in his, lifting the train of her skirts to stride through mud and slush, dark nights bent over a fire, reeking and rotting along everyone not benefitting from the empire. So many nights spent beside her on lush sheets, he could never once picture her freezing next to him in his bed.

So he sees the coat before he sees her. Red, cheerful, clean. Huddled with Bodhi and Chirrut and Baze like she belongs there, sharing their vodka and swearing in words he’d never think she’d hear. 

She held back her glass with a hearty laugh, singing a familiar drinking song that she could not have picked up alongside her education in French Opera:

Drink with me my love

For there’s fire in the sky,

and there’s ice upon the ground

either way, my soul will die

The vodka slid down her throat without so much as a whimper. 

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Sesskag Week 2017: Day Two ~Obon~

Look for the Sakura

Word count: 1628, Goblin: the Great and Lonely God AU

                                                       ~ ~ ~

Sesshomaru fell to his knees, the hard and jarring against his sore bones. He gasped in pain as he dropped Bakusaiga, watching as Narkau melted into a pile of sizzling tar. The poltergeist had put up more of a fight dead, than when he had back during the search for the Jewel in the Feudal Era. Coughing, he spat up blood that made its way past his lips. This was it.

The sword had been pulled from his chest. Now he was to die here. Broken and undignified.

If it didn’t hurt to make noises, he would have scoffed.


Keep reading


“The nature of this mission is such that we need to keep a low profile, so: land vehicles only, fast enough for emergencies but plausible for interstate travel.” Batman set the tablet down. “Any questions.”

Flash threw up both his arms. “Road trip!”

“That’s not a question.”

“I’m out,” Aquaman said, sliding on a pair of sunglasses. He had his chair tilted back so he could cross his boots on the table.

“I’m shocked,” said Batman, who was not shocked.

“Aquaman!” Wonder Woman protested. “Don’t you want to ride with me? It will be fun! I’m told there are giant balls of twine in the desert.”

“This is a mission,” Batman reminded her. “There are no balls of twine between here and the base.”

“We can take a detour after we’re done,” she suggested, not to be dissuaded.

“Obviously I love giant balls as much as the next man,” Aquaman said, leading Batman to slowly shake his head. “However: this whole trip is landlocked. And I have business in the ocean to take care of.”

Wonder Woman narrowed her eyes. “Is this business a redhead?” Rather than deny it, Aquaman grinned, rows of gleaming white shark’s teeth sharp as daggers.

“And is it related to giant balls?” Flash added.

“Or blue ones?” Green Lantern continued further.

Wonder Woman looked between them. “I feel like I’m missing something.”

“Travel arrangements,” Batman announced, picking his tablet back up. “For logistical reasons we’ll be traveling mostly in pairs, I’ve chosen groups strategically, don’t try to argue, I know where you live.”

“I’m not clear on who that last part was addressed to,” said Green Arrow.

“All of you. Arrow, you’re with Flash.”

The Flash pumped his fists. “Yesss — I drive!”

“Absolutely not,” Green Arrow said immediately.

“Martian, you’re with Firestorm.”

“Shotgun,” Firestorm said immediately.

Martian Manhunter looked at him. “You both get shotgun,” he reminded him.

Firestorm scratched his chin. “Right.”

“Hawks, you’re not coming on this one because we all remember Utah.”

Hawkman buried his face in his hands, shaking his head. Hawkgirl had her fists on her hips, and was laughing, her tongue curled down to her chin.

The tongue was how they knew the laugh was genuine.

“Superman, you’re with Green Lantern.”

Green Lantern and Superman’s eyebrows both shot up. “Really?” they both asked, before exchanging glances.


Wonder Woman’s eyes widened. “Does that mean—”


“—I’m with you?”


Batman was expressionless, a fact which meant less than nothing. Wonder Woman was delighted. Aquaman frowned. “Wait, where was I in the seating arrangement?”

“You weren’t.”

Aquaman took his feet off the table to sit upright, leaning forward with his brow furrowed. “Why not?”

“You weren’t going to come on this mission.”

“You didn’t know that for sure.”

“I did.”

Aquaman slammed his palm onto the table. “I’ve changed my mind!” he announced. “I will join you for this mission.”

“Fine,” Batman said, not missing a beat. “You can join Green Arrow and The Flash.”

They all looked to where the two men were hunched over Flash’s phone, trying to figure out playlists. “I’m not spending five hours listening to electropop,” Arrow was saying. “I get enough of that at home.”

“And thank God, if it were up to you it’d be nothing but butt rock.”

“That’s not a genre.”

“My car is a no Nickelback zone.”

“You don’t even have a car, you run everywhere.”

“Legally, everything in a three foot radius of me is a car.”

“That’s not a law.”

“It should be.”

“I’ve changed my mind,” Aquaman announced as he stood. “Atlantis needs me.”

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I need an hour just to say hello / niall and harry / 16k  

“So you work at the golf course?” He asks and all Harry can do is nod his head in return.

Niall laughs and Harry’s stomach flutters when he opens his eyes. Niall’s head is slightly thrown back and he’s sitting next to Harry on this wooden bench in shitty lighting from a lantern above them and he looks like he’s glowing, just radiating happiness. Harry doesn’t really get it - he’s only stuttered like four words out.

or where a shy, stuttering Harry works at the golf course, where he meets Niall.

read it on ao3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/4189356

nothingtoseehere-move-along  asked:

In honor of the upcoming first day of fall, what kind of fall activities (pumpkin patches, corn mazes, leaf raking, etc.) do the crew do and/or how do they celebrate their various fall holidays?

  • Well, not growing up on a farm, the whole Rampion crew (aside from Scarlet, of course) thinks the perfect place to be is on a farm during the autumn months so they think it’s a great idea to visit one. Of course, when they get there, they are in for a real shocker when Scarlet puts them to work.
    • There’s not sleeping in at all and if you want breakfast, you’ve got to do your morning chores and if you want lunch you’ve got to do your mid morning chores and if you want dinner you’ve got to do your afternoon chores. And only if you haven’t fallen asleep into your spaghetti during dinner, can you have a steaming cup of spiced cider while you lounge by the fire. 
    • Still, Scarlet’s not a complete drill sergeant so there are lots of taking turns, jumping into piles of raked leaves. 
      • There’s also bonfires for s’more making. 
      • And large pumpkins for jack-o-lantern carving and roasted pumpkin seed snaking. 
        • There are even contests to see who can whip up the best batch of hot chocolate and there have been some…interesting…combinations. Including but not limited to:
          • Swiss chocolate spiked with Bailey’s (a classic which leads to much hilarity).
          • Dark chocolate spiced with red chili.
          • Salted caramel with tons of whipped cream.
          • And for the few adventurous ones, milk chocolate and white miso. Thanks, Kai.
  • Of course, no one can say no to the festivities of the Mid-Autumn festival and the whole day is spent stuffing faces with pork buns and tea eggs, moon cakes and mochi ice cream.
    • Everyone (even Wolf) jumps when strings of firecrackers go off and they look forward to choosing their lanterns and swinging them back and forth on sticks. 
  • Being an American, Thorne insists on celebrating Thanksgiving. He actually still has fond memories of Thanksgiving as a child at the Thorne house–probably because his parents usually slipped into turkey hazes and were too tired to criticize him too much. 
    • Cress and Thorne throw their first ever Thanksgiving on the Rampion and the rest of the group are impressed when they step onto the ship to smell the tantalizing aromas of a perfectly cooked turkey, mounds of golden mashed potatoes, two kinds of sweet potato casseroles (one with marshmallow topping and one with candied pecans, of course), and Thorne’s favorite, green bean casserole with the crispy onions on top. 
    • Everyone would pile their plates high and snag any seat they could in the cargo bay and eat off their laps and share lots of laughs and groans of approval. It reminds them of previous days sharing meals in the cargo bay, except there is not a pickled asparagus or can of tuna in sight. 
      • Although, after lots and lots of prodding, Thorne and Cress finally admit that they picked up the food before hand. 
        • “But I turned the oven on to keep the food warm!” Thorne insists.
  • ladybug: *stares at pictures of and the real Adrien all day long*
  • ladybug: *stares at Chat Noir 50% of her weekly life*
  • ladybug: *facial and audial recognition abilities somehow thwarted by an eye mask*

I love doing ‘everyone is ladies’ fancasts but it also really reinforces how much narrower standards of beauty are for actresses. It’s amazing to take a cast of men with very different kinds of faces, craggy and smooth, handsome and not, big noses and small, different ears, different jaws, and turn that into actresses who even to me look very similar.

…..and the pool gets even narrower once you step outside of white actresses.

It’s not like this is new information to anyone, but every time I start making graphics again it bothers me a little more.

anonymous asked:

Prompt - close

The run to the arts and crafts store that they found had yielded quite a useful haul, considering it had been half full of fabric rolls and fake plants: as Sasha described it. Now they had wood for burning, paper for lists, string, wire, cutting tools, and a whole lot of miscellany in their possession.

Carol was just glad that they had all come back in one piece. It was the rare time when there hadn’t been a single walker in the whole store.

“People don’t run to craft stores when they think the work is ending,” Rosita snorted after they’d taken inventory of their spoils.

“Their loss,” Glenn shrugged. “We hit jackpot.”

Rick lifted up the blue paper lantern that they’d grabbed, his expression deadpan.

“Hey, we needed that. It was completely necessary,” Michonne argued, snatching the lantern from him.

Carol smiled softly, looking around at them all. Such small things—paper lanterns, wood carved into the shapes of the alphabet as firewood, swatches of bizarre fabric patterns to darn their tattered clothes—had made their night and left them all in cheerful moods. She felt isolated in her melancholy, not quite up to celebrating anything.

Daryl sat next to her, looking pleased with the quiver that he had fashioned from a metal tube and some canvas that he had pilfered from the store. Carol smiled for him, glad to see him with some of his old spark coming back, but he could see past her mask.

“Brought you somethin’ too.” He set the quiver down, rummaging into the satchel at his side.

“Ooh, a present just for me?” she teased lightly.

“Shit, it got crushed a little bit…dammit. Ah well, it’s…it’s not much but…here.” He straightened, holding up a long-stemmed white flower and offering it to her.

Carol paused, smiling in genuine surprise as she took the flower. The stem had been bent, and one edge of the bloom had been pushed down and kinked under a heavier weight, but the yellow inside the white petals was untouched.

It was far too cold for any flowers to be blooming right now. She looked at him appreciatively.

“A Cherokee Rose? Where did you—“ She ran her finger across the petals, and her question was answered for her.

The flower was made from stiff cloth, and the stem was coarse plastic. Fake.

“I know it ain’t as good as the real thing, but…I figured it was close…close enough.” Daryl rubbed the back of his head as he looked at the flower. “It’ll definitely last longer than a live one…Won’t start dryin’ up or fallin’ apart or nothin’—“

“I love it,” she interrupted before he could start rambling in his nervousness. “Thank you.”

Out of pure habit, she leaned in and sniffed the flower before it clicked that fake meant no natural aroma. Daryl was looking at her, the corner of  mouth quirking upward at her absent mistake.

“Smells good,” she said casually, committed to the act.

He blinked. “Really?”

She sent him a flat look and a raised eyebrow, and he huffed, nudging her elbow and going back to tinkering with his new quiver. Carol touched the white cloth petals of the flower thoughtfully. Suddenly the darkness of the night didn’t feel as bleak.