#Ask me stuff this blog is dead and dusty enough

[colossal-fallout]

Fallout 4 ~

Random headcanons.

Includes NSFW. 18+ Only.

I'm more bang into AoT right now but I also want to incorporate Fallout into this blog, so introducing some Fallout 4 H/Cs

MacCready;

People often Headcanon this wonderful human as being dirty (beyond the norm is post apocalyptic America) and smelly but I cannon that he's pretty good at hygiene. .. Bear with me on this.

Mac not only has allergies to dust which is seen in game, but he also complains pretty loudly when there's a bad smell. So although he's one dusty mf, I don't think he'd be any less clean than your average sniper-in-the-shadows.

His teeth are bad probably off living in little lamplight and not having adults around to tell him to put that sixth snack cake down.

MacCready loves playing target practice with you. It's one of his favourite things to do. You keep a tally on who has the most points.

- NSFW -

Mac's member is on the more skinny side, but it's long and curves upwards slightly at the tip.

He loves receiving oral.

Mac pants a lot when having sex, which begins to escalate into moans that can get pretty loud, especially when he's nearing his end.

His panting is hot as f though. It's like a deep, ragged octave which quivers at times.

He masturbates quite often.

Hancock;

It's blatenly obvious; but Hancock is a hell of a lot of fun to be around.

If it's your thing, Hancock often plays drinking games with you, makes bets and a favourite of his is watching you squirm when you lose at strip poker.

If your first time huffing jet was with him, he cautioned you before hand and like the great man he is, kept a close eye on you as you ran and danced around like a maniac, giggling like some insane yandare.

Still, he almost pissed himself laughing at you.

"Man... Seeing someone's first time is always a blast."

-NSFW-

One of the many ailments that comes with being a ghoul is he's lost a lot of sesntivity down there, which means he can go for hours before reaching his climax.

This dirty dawg is amazing in the sack. He knows exactly what he's doing and has a gift of picking up on what you like pretty quickly.

Loves to mark his territory on you with his teeth.

Dirty talk. Lots of it.

"That's right... Who's my beautiful princess...?"

"Mmm you always taste so fuckin' good."

"Cum for me, baby. I wanna feel you pull me in deep..."

Piper;

Piper has a secret obsession with pre war romance novels.

The more smut the better. She reads them before she goes to sleep with an excited rose tint to her cheeks, kicking her legs slightly.

Piper often gets writers cramp when she's doing the paper, sighing with frustration as she's on a roll.

Piper likes to draw and often draws the characters she reads about in the books she's scavanged.

- NSFW -

Piper has a slight bitter/iron taste to her, almost like a penny but sweeter.

Piper is a huge squirter and often gets pretty messy when having sex.

She adores having her breasts and nipples played with, being able to orgasm just from that if it's good enough.

Danse;

This absolute beefcake if a man usually smells of slight BO tinted with oil. It's a pleasant smell though, not too over powering.

Danse will bring you back alsorts of weird stuff he's scavanged, to ask you to to explain to him what it's function was and what it was for. He's like the Fallout Universes own Arthur Weasley, just a lot less excitable.

"What the hell could this have possibly been used for...? I know, I'll take it back to y/n for a full report."

"Well, Danse, we would use those to shave dead skin off our feet."

"Really?! And did it do a satisfactory job?"

"Yeah...?"

"Outstanding."

- NSFW -

Danse is a big lad. Both downstairs and just in general. It's pretty long but it's most prominent feature is it's girth.

He's not at all clued up about sex so you'll probably have to teach him a thing or two. But by God will he give it his all.

He's a quick learner too, studying you with a furrowed brow at how you react to certain things, keeping them in mind.

He loves it when your legs are over his shoulders or when you push him deeper into you via his perfect ass.

He's pretty quiet when having sex say for heavy breathing, but he is known to let out the odd gruff growl, which is thek hottest thing ever. Ad Victoriam, your coochy. ...Ad Victoriam.

Cait;

It's pretty obvious from the game but Cait loves a bar fight. She's the happiest when she's smashing a stool over some guys back for speaking to you in a tone she didn't like.

Cait has double knees which she's insecure about, regardless how many times you tell her that her legs and knees are great.

Cait sleeps sitting up a lot, still in danger mode resulting usually in a stiff neck.

-NSFW-

This Irish bird loves it rough, but she loves it even more tender, a side of her she rarely shows and it turns her on more than anything that you care ebough to make love to her, not just a quick fuck.

She is amazing at giving oral sex. Second to none. She'll have you teetering to the edge within a few minutes.

Cait has a slightly scarred vajumba, something a slaver did to her onc which she doesn't like to talk about.

#fallout #fallout headcanons #fallout cait #paladin danse #maccready #robert maccready #fallout 4 #hancock #piper wright #fallout 4 headcanons #fallout 4 hancock #fallout 4 cait #fallout 4 piper #fallout 4 danse

[bitchesgetriches]

Noble citizens of the aspirationally decadent Conglomerated Nation of Bitches Get Riches: let’s have a lil’ chat, shall we? It’s been a while since we chatted about our favorite topic: ourselves!

We hope you’ve enjoyed season two of the Bitches Get Riches podcast. Recording it was a bright spot for us during this dumpster fire of a year, so thank you all for listening.

As we wrap up another season, we had a few notes to share with you. Including some more personal reflections about how we’re doing, where we’re at, and what the future holds.

Let’s get into it!

Merch is back online

If you visited our Etsy shop in the last few months, you might’ve noticed the physical merch—tee shirts and coffee mugs and tote bags and such—wasn’t listed anymore. Basically, when lockdowns started, it caused a lot of disruption and delays on orders. Not wanting people to be stuck waiting for stuff, we decided to take it all offline, and only offer digital merch.

As of today, we’ve reactivated everything! But please keep in mind that there may still be delays, depending on what’s happening in the world! We appreciate your patience, if patience is indeed called for.

Visit Our Etsy Shop

Season one transcripts

Next, we wanted to let you guys know that we now have transcripts available for season one of the Bitches Get Riches podcast!

We’re committed to making BGR as accessible as we possibly can. We know that some people can’t hear, or struggle to absorb information aurally, so transcripts were something we’ve always wanted to offer.

… But, you know, at the end of the day, we’re just two people! Transcribing and editing audio is time- and labor-intensive work, and there just aren’t enough hours in the day for us to do it along with the fifteen million other things we have to do.

We were able to offer season one transcripts thanks entirely to A Purple Life, a peerlessly talented and wonderful fellow blogger who selflessly made it happen. (If you don’t already read her stuff, you’ve already disobeyed us, as we commanded you to in 10 Rad Black Money Experts to Follow Right the Hell Now. And for that, we’re strongly considering smiting you.)

We’re incredibly thankful to Purple for her hard work on this. But we also feel strongly that this DESERVES to be paid work! So the release of season two transcripts is dependent on getting more Patreon donors to offset funding it.

Season 1, Episode 1: “Should I Tell My Boss I’m Looking for Another Job?”

Season 1, Episode 2: “How Should I Behave on My First Day at Work?”

Season 1, Episode 3: “My Parents Have Bad Credit. Should I Help by Co-signing Their Mortgage?”

Season 1, Episode 4: “Capitalism Is Working for Me. So How Could I Hate It?”

Season 1, Episode 5: “I Don’t Love My Job, but It Pays Well. Should I Quit—or Tough It Out?”

Season 1, Episode 6: “I Lent My Boyfriend Money. He Took It to a Casino.”

Season 1, Episode 7: “I’m Terrible at Budgeting. Do I Suck It Up—Or Is There Another Way?”

Season 1, Episode 8: “My Mother Demands Information About My One-Night Stands.”

Season 1, Episode 9: “I’ve Given up on My Dream Career. Where Do I Go From Here?”

Season 1, Episode 10: “I Want a Pedigreed Dog. She Wants a Rescue Mutt. It Turned into a Fight… and the Fight Got Ugly.”

Season 1, Episode 11: “I Feel Cornered by a Friend Who Keeps Asking to Borrow Money.”

Season 1, Episode 12: “Should I Believe the Fear-Mongering about Another Recession?”

Bonus Episode: Merry Bitchmas! The 2019 Star-Studded Holiday Spectacular

For transcripts, scroll to the bottom of each episode and click “episode transcript.” Or read them directly in the podcast player of your choice!

Podcast reviews

We also super wanted to thank all the people who’ve etched their names in blood upon the dusty pages of our dark grimoire written reviews for the show on Apple Podcasts, Stitcher, and other places!

We are beyond flattered by the kind things you guys have said about us. Like MoonPetalLily, who described us as “the snarky older sisters [they] wish [they] had.”

FunshineKelly said our “advice helped [them] land a $20k raise and a signing bonus without crying even a little bit.” GOOD! We don’t support tears in the workplace! Not even in the sanctity of your car parked way in the corner of the parking lot. Keep it together!

And God bless MelHubbs, who said, and I quote:

They’re prepared, and still relaxed; informative, and still light-hearted; comforting, and still sexual. It’s everything you could ever want in a podcast, in an internet personality, in your sisters-in-arms against the terrible war between capitalism and what humans actually need to survive & thrive. One of my favorite things about them is that they don’t have any corporate sponsors or ads, so you know what they’re saying is what they mean, not what their advertisers want them to say. If you’re able, support them on Patreon! If you’re not, listen to their podcast, take their advice to heart, reflect on your options, make your moves, then, with your newfound financial independence, become a patreon!

MelHubbs, you joyful sonnet!

Your review is so good that it reads suspiciously like something we paid you to write! But we’re too cheap for that—IT REAL!

Bitches Get Riches at the crossroads

All right. Time to level with you guys.

In keeping with 2020’s overarching theme (“everything is pure shit”), this year has become a real “shit or get off the pot” moment for the two of us.

Although I’m comfortable and doing fine, Piggy is still unemployed. And last week she received the last unemployment check she’s entitled to. It sucks. And it’s scary.

Being a partnership is awesome in almost every way. But one way that it sucks is that we have to earn double the amount of money to be truly profitable! (And no, before you ask, it’s not possible for us to only pay Piggy. Believe me, that was our original plan—but it turns out that’s not allowed in a 50/50 legal partnership. We must pay ourselves equally, or Uncle Sam will spank us. And he doesn’t do it in the sexy way—only the traumatic way!)

Piggy is doing okay for now. She has freelancing work, and an intact emergency fund. But understandably, anxiety and worry take their toll. She’s pushing through it, but it’s hard. Creativity and passion can’t thrive for long without some measure of safety and stability.

During these scary times, our Patreon community has been a lifeline. As more and more of you have joined us, it’s slowly crept up from grocery money to grocery and utility bill money! So thank you, thank you, from the bottom of our hearts thank you to those who’ve stepped up and joined.

But we’re kind of at a crossroads. Because of Piggy’s situation, we really need it to become “paying the mortgage” money. And it’s gotta get there pretty fast. Otherwise, it’s just not fair to ask Piggy to invest so much of her time in Bitches Get Riches, when she could be taking on higher paying freelancing work to keep herself afloat.

And trust me, you do not want a BGR that’s too Kitty-heavy. I am longwinded af, slowly losing my abilities to think and spell, and take every possible detour to inject disgusting sexual comments wherever they are least germane (although idk maybe you’re here for that).

Our new goal for ourselves, and you

With all of that in mind, we have a new goal: to produce season three of our podcast, we need 500 total Patreon donors.

Today we have… 294. So that’s, uhhhhh… a really ambitious goal!

It’s probably too ambitious. We’re probably gonna fail. Who cares, it’s 2020! The planet is on fire and god is already dead, so we have no reason not to give it our all!

We are leaving this in your hands. We—Piggy and I—believe that the world would be a better place if people could hear reliable, relatable financial wisdom funded by regular people, untainted by corporate sponsors with deep pockets who want us to push their capitalist crap upon you. And 294 of you have already demonstrated that you believe that too. Thank you, thank you, infinity thank yous to all of you who are already a part of our Patreon community. You are shining stars that smell faintly of vanilla.

For the rest of you: if you like what we do and you want us to keep doing it, please show us that you believe in it too. You can do that by joining us at the Bitches Get Riches Patreon.

We hope to be back soon for a third season. Until then, stay safe, stay sane, wear your masks, triple-check that you’re registered to vote, and save room for dessert. (What’s for dessert? So glad you asked—it’s the rich!)

For now, Bitches OUUUTTTTT!

Join the Bitches on Patreon

Join the Bitches on Patreon

#etsy #merch #bitches get riches #patreon #donations #personal finance #financial advice #money #adulting #money advice #advice #adulting advice

[nereiarts]

I was just wondering how your back was doing, considering how you've carried the weight of the Amnesia fandom for almost a decade now.

someone, anyone, please.... please make content... any content i’m sick of just seeing my own

No but tbh I just kind of accepted years ago that most other people like consuming content more than they enjoy contributing their own, and that 99% people in fandoms aren’t into the Thing for more than a year or two at best, especially nowadays because daily life is hectic and demanding, and some new hype show drops every few months, which becomes their new fandom for the next x number of months/years. I don’t know why Amnesia became my number 1 long-lasting fandom, despite it being more dead that people from the 1300s, but I guess I’m just here??? Idk. This is what I love doing, even if no one’s watching any more, and I suppose I’ll carry on being here for a while longer at least.

I’ve seriously thought about vanishing so many times because the fandom’s not becoming more active than this, especially on Tumblr, and all my attempts at revitalising it (or even connecting with other fans) on other platforms have failed miserably, but I’m still here. I’ve no idea how much longer my passion will keep this blog alive though bc there’s seriously no one to talk to any more* and I’m getting kinda sick of my own content. :’) I’ve tried to find the courage to get active on FG’s official Discord, but real-time chatting is too fast-paced for me and my anxiety, and idk I feel uncomfortable entering the official community platform with my content being what it is. Like 99% of my stuff is shippy and I know very well the mainstream fandom is really not cool with my OTP, and I don’t feel like having another conversation about what fictional content people are allowed to like, like it’s 2012 all over again.

Don’t take me wrong. I’m proud of what I create and I stand behind it, but I’m sometimes real bitter that the fandom’s so small and that all my fandom friends have moved on. Look, this was supposed to be some sort of noble “dedicated fandom olds happily keeping a small fandom going for their own enjoyment” sort of post, but I think I'd rather be honest:

Being the only active person left sucks. It’s like existing in a vacuum. And I’m not quite narcissistic enough to enjoy just my own company until hell freezes over.

I’ve tried to find some other fandom to replace Amnesia as my #1 passion for years, but nothing else has clicked the same way. I’ve participated in fandom events, tried connecting with people, yet I’d still rather crawl back to my dusty little corner everytime, because my heart is here. Maybe this is pandemia depression talking or something. I miss seeing other fans at cons - it was the one spark that reminded me the fandom’s still there, it’s just dormant.

(anyway thanks for asking, I have back aches but not because of the fandom haha)

*not including my fiancée who’s awesome and still, amazingly enough, has the energy to discuss Amnesia with me despite it not being one of her fandoms

#speedyweaselfanalmond #asks #i'm sorry this wasn't the happy-happy joy-joy answer i wanted to give you i'm real tired #like #real. tired. #of 2020 mostly #aura speaks

[txladyj-blog]

This Time Around - Chapter 28

A Daryl Dixon x OFC collaboration written by @xmistressmistrustx​ by request of @txladyj-blog​

Rating: Explicit

Relationship: Daryl Dixon/Original Female Character

Tags: Friendship, Friends to Lovers, Awkwardness, Awkward Flirting, Awkward Crush, Fluff and Humor, Angst and Humor, Mild Smut, Strong Language, Eventual Sex, Eventual Romance, Slow Burn, Canon Divergence, Some Canon Scenes and Dialogue

Chapters 30/?

Through the winding country roads that soon turned into city streets, some blocked by crowds of Walkers and some clear enough for Jess to race through like a bat out of hell, her anticipation only grew stronger. Daryl was silently monitoring their progress on the map and keeping tabs on the intermittent tire tracks and oily drips on the road’s surface. Carl clung to the window in the back seat like a frightened child. But Jess knew it wasn’t the world outside the vehicle that was alarming him, it was the prospect of losing the girl he cared for if they failed to find her or they were too late. His boot tapped nervously on the frame of the drivers chair and Jess could feel a constant, droning vibration rise up through the seat. It irritated her, but she kept quiet, her patience now thinner than she was comfortable with.

The sun was low in the sky and with that came a simmering sense of dread for Daryl, who was more than aware that if they lost the light, they also lost their opportunity to extract Enid from her demise before any harm could come to her. He couldn’t have anyone else die, no one else could be lost. He’d already shouldered every single one and blamed himself for the group’s numbers diminishing. Should have done more, acted with more haste, thought quicker or just done something, anything to save the people they’d lost. It was an unavoidable side effect of being more sensitive than he cared to admit – or so Carol told him. She’d advised him after the death of Maggie’s younger sister that he had to allow himself to feel it. He didn’t know how she’d noticed that his very soul was starting to crumble, but he needed to hear those words, more than he’d realized and since then, he’d allowed a small semblance of feeling through, just enough to continue on. But Jess was changing that by charging through his barriers and forcing him to face feelings he didn’t know how to handle.

He stole a glimpse of her, hunched over the steering wheel and squinting at a passing road sign that was broken in half. They were heading out of the city, having worked their way around the outskirts and with each passing mile, Daryl’s mind began to wander to the conversation they’d had in the fairground before Carl arrived and dumped one hell of a problem in the middle of it all. He’d said what he wanted to say, but something told him it still wouldn’t suffice in Jess’s mind and all that was left to do was hope that he’d bought himself enough time to figure things out properly. Their dynamic had shifted, evolved and flourished, even, into something terrifying yet strangely addictive and although his attention was resolute when it came to finding Enid, being able to kiss Jess was never far from his thoughts.

“Stop!” Carl yelled from behind them. His voice shot through the silence like a knife through butter and Jess found herself having to take a deep breath due to being so startled. She hit the breaks and the car skidded to an abrupt halt, sending all three of them surging forwards momentarily. “Look. Through there. High walls and lights.” He pointed out while twisting his torso to fit through the gap between the seats. Jess pushed Carl back through to the back by shoving at his shoulder and punched at the clip on the glove box. It sprang open and she clawed at its contents, sending litter and dust scattering across Daryl’s lap. He blinked slowly and turned his head to her but she ignored the cross look he was presenting her with. Finally, she found what she was looking for and pulled out the heavy binoculars. Bringing them to her eyes, she waited for her vision to adjust and surveyed the scene before them. At the end of the tree-lined street, a high wall loomed up with floodlights positioned every few yards along it. She could detect no sign of any people, but she knew well enough that it was not wise to assume anything.

“That’s a college.” Daryl mused to himself as he peered through the dusty windscreen.

“Mm” Jess hummed in agreement. “Lights are on but it looks like nobody is home.”

“Somebody’s home alright.” Daryl confirmed with a quiet confidence. He knew better than most that even the most abandoned places could surprise a weary traveler with their guard down and they were not looking at an abandoned college, the beaming lights in the evening glow were a sure sign that they may have reached their destination.

“Do you think she’s in there?” Carl asked.

A memory abruptly caught Jess’s attention; The city. The group she’d seen having been the reason she left. The same group from the woods, the same group that attacked Alexandria and shot Daryl. It could well have been where they came from.

“I think she is” She admitted with a quick look at Daryl who caught her eye and offered her a short nod to signal that he was in agreement. He clicked open the car door and grabbed his crossbow from the foot-well. Jess shot a hand out and grabbed his wrist.

“Wait.” She ordered. Her eyes met his and in them, he observed a complex mixture of worry, fear and a need for some clarification. “How are we doing this?”

It was quite simple to Daryl. Carl was staying out of harm’s way, locked in the car where no one, living or dead, could get at him. As for Jess – putting her in the firing line wasn’t an option. He would keep her with him and protect her with his life, using her only to cover him if he needed it.

“He’s stayin’ right here” he said with a nudge of his head at Carl “And you’re followin’ my lead.”

Her forehead wrinkled and she released a sigh through her nose. Daryl had known Jess long enough by that point to be able to predict what she was about to say and if he was a betting man, he would have put money on her need to protest.

“Why are you leading? I can lead.” She stated.

“You really gonna argue with me about everythin’?! Get outta the car n’ let’s go find the girl.” He instructed firmly and with a wave of his hand. A loud scoff and a mumble followed Jess’s exit from the car. Before she closed the door, she crawled hallway back inside, far enough to come face-to face with Carl. Saying nothing, she presented him with a stern look and a finger pointed right at him. She didn’t need words to relay how important it was that he stayed where he was and Carl was under no illusions that if he was to disobey her again, she was likely to cut him into little pieces with the machete hanging from her belt.

 She’d seen it a million times before in movies, the silent hand gestures made by the military and some characters with no such background that somehow appeared to just know them by heart. But Jess was an Army brat and knew her stuff when it came to deciphering instructions told with the use of one hand. Daryl, having apparently picked up a thing or two, was pleased to find that she understood his every order and scuttled across the street close behind him. The two of them hovered behind a burned-out car, fingers curling over the edge of the holes where the windows once were and Jess tried to blink away the slight blur in her vision after so long spent driving and focusing on the roads. She was thankful that her now natural requisite for planning, gained while living alone in the city, meant she’d had the forethought to keep a packed backpack by the door of the diner that contained her gloves, mask, arm guard holsters and hooded jacket. Carl’s random appearance in the backseat of the car also meant that she had time to suit up before they progressed even further. Her gear not only acted as protection but also as a confidence booster. If she felt equipped enough for whatever she may encounter, she would be more inclined to panic less and think more.

Up ahead, Daryl detected movement. Only slight but enough for him to be even more sure that the compound behind the walls was occupied with the living and that they’d more than likely found where Enid was being held. He carefully observed the view, counting two figures by a gate that, judging by its mismatched wooden panels, had been erected long since the turn.

“Two guards on the gate” He whispered to Jess who had one hand on the rusty shell of the car and the other clutched around the handle of her machete.

“Yup. You distract them. I’ll sneak in.” She told him.

“No. No way. Ya ain’t goin’ in there.” He countered without hesitation. “If they catch ya, it’s over.”

Apparently unbothered by his dismissal of her proposal, she moved her hand up to her bow and unhooked it from across her torso. She then slid an arrow from the quiver and gripped it tightly in her gloved fist. Risking a small peep through the car to her target, she shifted backwards and finally caught Daryl’s waiting eye.

“If they catch me, they’ll keep me alive. If they catch you, they’ll kill you on the spot.” She pointed out.

He couldn’t argue with her reasoning, she was correct, after all. They wouldn’t dither about putting him down if they found him, much like they didn’t when they walked into Alexandria and slaughtered almost a third of the population for sport. They would most certainly keep Jess alive too and that thought was enough to make him want to bundle her back into the car and lock the doors.

“Look at me.” He growled as she fumbled with her mask, tugging it up and over her mouth and nose. “You are not goin’ in there.”

“I’ll be fi-“

“-Jesus fuckin’ Christ, Jess.” He hissed “Now, you listen to me and you listen real good; we ain't got time for your stubborn shit right now. I am not arguin’ with you about this. If you really wanna be involved then you’re gonna shut the fuck up n’ do as I say or so help me god, I will lock you in that car with the kid n’ do this myself.”

Sure that his rant had hit home, he waited for her reaction, only to find that her eyes brightened and she tilted her head back slightly. Under her mask, she was smiling.

“Are you scolding me, Stinky?” She challenged.

“Uh, yes… I am.” He replied meekly, unable to mask the fact that her refusal to bow to his demands had left him feeling rather sheepish.

“Okay, fine” She sang with a roll of her eyes “I’ll make a ruckus out here, try and keep things going as long as I can.”

“No.” He refused blankly “We do this together.”

“Daryl, there is no way we are getting in there without a distraction. You know that.” She argued.

His shoulders slumped and he dropped one knee onto the ground to stabilize himself from his crouching position. His vision lowered and he shook his head slowly. Jess heard him sigh and for a moment, began to worry that she was annoying him with the confidence she had in her plan. She quickly checked the scene beyond the car and found it to be much the same, no one had detected them yet.

“I ain’t leavin’ ya alone. I can’t” she heard him utter from her side.

He cut quite the somber figure, kneeling with his head bowed at first before gradually lifting it to find her looking at him with a slightly bemused expression. It was dawning on her that he was disagreeing so vehemently because he cared. He cared about her and wanted her to stay by his side. Far from wanting to push him away or send him back into his shell, she mirrored him and leaned her weight on one knee.

“I promise I’ll be carefu-”

His hand covering hers on her knee silenced her and her mouth hung open as she glanced down at his fingers brushing the back of her hand. The arrow she held was pinned down against her knee and grew hot when her palm flushed with warmth.

“Please.” He urged upon an exhalation. “I can’t lose you”

Not even a full day had passed and Jess had been gifted with not one almost confession, but two. It was the closest thing she’d had to some clarity about what was happening between them and so far, she was knocked for six by his unexpected and moderately forthright change of tact. She now understood that he was interested enough not only to continue kissing her, but also to unashamedly present his anxiety about leaving her alone during a rescue mission. To Jess, it was hard to imagine that she had provoked feelings in Daryl that surpassed friendship and while she still remained skeptical and slightly guarded, a part of her hoped that given time, she would be blessed with the kind of confession she only dared to dream about.

“Carl can see us” She mentioned after hearing a shuffle from the direction of the car they’d arrived in. She could near enough feel Carl staring at them through the window without even having to look for herself.

“I don’t care.” He breathed with his lips barely moving and his body statue still, his eyes pinned on hers.

She swallowed hard and dreaded having to make her point once more. But she believed with everything she had that a distraction was their best chance and if she stated her case logically, Daryl would be forced to admit that she was right. She leaned towards him and looked right at him.

“They’re not going to catch me. I survived alone for so long because I am good at blending into the shadows. You know this makes sense. I can do this. I can fight. You know I can because you helped train me.” She explained.

His hand instantly lifted from hers and her skin flashed with the coldness of his absence. He pawed at his face, rubbing his eyes and growling to himself.

“Fine” He grumbled. “But you be careful, use ya smarts n’ if shit goes down, you run to the car and get yourself and Carl the hell outta here. Do you hear me? You do not go inside those walls and you do not come lookin’ for me.”

“Alright. I won’t.” She replied as she started to stand on both feet, keeping her body low behind the car.

Yeah, right. Like I’d ever leave without you, Stinky.

“Go” He ordered with a nudge of his head in the direction of the gate. She readied her bow, pushing her shoulders back and shaking her head as if to shake off the fear that was bubbling in the pit of her stomach.

“I need you to live. You hear me?” Daryl added out of nowhere. Jess’s body stilled and she fought the urge to lunge at him and kiss him but with Carl watching on, she refrained from putting them in a situation that would later be difficult to explain.

“If I don’t, you can have my T-shirts and the fairground.” She joked instead. But his stony expression didn’t waiver for even a second and her heart ached.

“I’m serious.” He pointed out needlessly. She knew he was serious; it was written all over his face and in the depths of his worried eyes. Time was ticking away and as much as she wanted to stay with him and debate the ramifications of losing her and exactly how much he would miss her if she was gone, she had to get moving and leaving things on such a heavy and emotionally draining note was far from appealing to her.

“You started an important conversation earlier. It’d be rude of me to die half way through” she reminded him. It was sneaky, she was willing to admit that much, but no matter what happened since their conversation at the fairground, Jess wanted to make sure that the topic wasn’t just forgotten about. She still wanted a definitive answer and although she couldn’t even begin to figure out how, she had a backlog of things she wanted to say stored up in her mind.

“You’re so fuckin’ weird.” He huffed with a small smile.

“Ahh, you like me that way.” She brought her hand up, the arrow pinched between her palm and thumb and waved him off as she backed up to the sidewalk.

“I do. Be careful” He replied.

“You too, don’t get shot again. Or Nurse Jess will make another appearance” She quipped while sliding the arrow into the compound bows arrow rest. Her concentration on her weapon meant that she missed the point when Daryl’s face broke into a rare and wide smile.

“Don’t tempt me” He grinned.

Her eyes shot up to him and a rush of air left her lungs in a bashful laugh.

“Huh. Shut up.” She chuckled before standing up straight, walking out into the middle of the road and striding boldly towards the gate with her bow held up and ready, the bowstrings and arrow drawn back, taut and threatening.

-

A new bow and some mediocre practice didn’t necessarily mean accurate aim for Jess, who was used to her ancient relic of a weapon that she’d collected from the Renaissance Faire and lovingly restored and modified to her advantage. Her newer, more modern replacement was not without its issues, it felt completely different but the one saving grace of such a weapon swap was that she was now able to eject arrows that were notably faster than before and that meant that they were even more lethal.

Daryl didn’t even realize his hands were shaking as he watched Jess strutting along the middle of the road and nearing the lion’s den. When he lifted his crossbow from his shoulder, he found himself having to pause as he looked down at his fingers trembling against the handle. It was bizarre to him, even in the most perilous of situations, he hadn’t felt such trepidation. But his concern was not for himself, it was for the woman that was bravely facing the enemy head-on and putting herself at risk of death. The woman that had changed him. The only woman he’d ever flirted with. The woman he kissed. The first and only woman he’d ever cared about.

C’mon. Focus. She needs you to focus. She’s gonna be fine. She’s got this. She’s got balls bigger than mine.

Yelling in the distance meant he rapidly crawled across the floor, peeked around the back end of the car and held his breath.

-

The arrow narrowly missed the left gate guards head and Jess grunted in disapproval as she equipped another arrow and took aim for the second time.

“Fuck a duck” She hissed to herself “Thought I had that in the bag.”

The man’s shout of surprise alerted more people beyond the barrier and the structure exploded with movement like rabbits running at the sound of a shotgun.

Hah. Look at them all run. She thought with a smirk.

The second arrow embedded in the wood behind the gate guard on the right. He ducked and dramatically covered his head as if the sky were about to implode on top of him. While the other one screamed at the top of his lungs that they were under attack. Despite being in the center of the street, in plain view and not far enough away for them to have missed her, Jess could only assume that the two guards were not the brightest bulbs in the box and so, she raised a hand in a wave.

“Hey, Dumbasses!” She cried.

At the sound of her voice, both men at the gate and two more that had appeared at the top of the wall on ladders all froze and stared at her. The scene was so comical and surprisingly scatter-brained to Jess that she couldn’t help but laugh.

“Y’all are a few fries short of a happy meal in there, huh? I’m right here!” She announced at the top of her voice, throwing her arms up with her bow in the air. One of the men at the gate readied a rifle and lowered his head to the scope and someone, though Jess couldn’t tell who, ordered for the gate to be opened. “Now we’re talkin’. C’mon out, kittie, kittie, kitties.” She urged under her breath.

When the gate clunked and began to open, she took it as her cue to turn and run. Her boots hit the asphalt so hard that the soles of her feet stung and from the corner of her eye, she noted Daryl crossing in front of the houses, moving stealthily from car to car, using the bushes for cover. Her heart started to thud in her chest when she veered off to the opposite side of the road to Daryl, vanishing along the side of a house as the sound of boots on the ground and men throwing instructions at one another closed in.

-

One…Two…Three… Daryl counted

“Four…five. Shit. There’s five on her tail.” He whispered to himself while he edged closer to the gate behind the cover of a truck with smashed windows. He craned his neck when he reached the rear of the vehicle and spotted a single guard atop of the wall, perfectly distracted by trying to follow his comrades in pursuit of Jess through a pair of binoculars. Inside, the coast seemed to be clear and Daryl, with his crossbow ready, managed to cross the threshold of the gate and scoped out his surroundings after ducking behind a heavily reinforced truck. Bit by bit, he took in the strange sight of the vehicle, thinking that it was like something from Mad Max. He’d watched the movie with Merle when he was high and the real deal was even more vivid than the technicolor images he’d seen back then. The windows were covered with metal, holes and gaps harshly punched through the surface to provide vision. The tires were over-sized, heavy duty and quite obviously not the originals. On the sides of the truck, spikes protruded from the bodywork and Daryl had to carefully maneuver in-between them to prevent himself from being impaled by the rusty, blood covered points. He positioned himself behind one of the huge wheels and waited. Footsteps scuffed past and orders were being barked from one man to another. He counted at least five different voices as he eased forwards, peering under the truck and spotting a building opposite with low windows. He jumped and his stomach knotted at the sounds of distant gunshots.

Jess.

-

Climbing wasn’t exactly on the top of Jess’s skills list, especially when it came to scaling the fences of back yards with a group of dangerous men chasing her. Having tripped twice and ripping the arm of her jacket, her patience was struggling not to crack. But through sheer pig-headedness she pressed on, the massive inconvenience of it all and the need for it to be over was enough for her to summon the energy to toss herself over yet another wooden paneled fence. Grateful for her leather-palmed gloves and her thick jacket, her skin was sore but well protected when she scaled what felt like the hundredth, ten-foot wall. Reaching the top, time seemed to kick into slow-motion and she blinked in surprise. Her hands had let go of the structure and the dusty, cracked ground was suddenly a lot nearer than she’d anticipated. Her heart lurched and her muscles constricted. Before she could even register that she was falling, she landed with a thump. Her shoulder screamed in pain from the landing and her bow was sent clattering across the dust. She rolled onto her back and clutched the top of her arm in attempt to check if her joint had been knocked out of place again. Pain hummed through her nerves as she threw her head back and puffed out a muffled cry of agony. The faint patter of boots on the ground was the thing that got her to her feet and she rotated her shoulder, relieved to discover that it was still in its rightful place. She retrieved her bow, brushed the dust from her jacket and shook her head briefly.

“Son of a gun.” She uttered “Ouch.”

That was about as graceful as an elephant on a slide. Parkour is definitely on the list for training session ideas.

A plan. She could hear a plan being formed. Two men in the next yard. She had been lucky they didn’t hear her messy, undignified collision with the floor. She linked her arm under the bows upper limb and hooked it up onto her good shoulder while slowly and stealthily sliding the knife Daryl had gifted her so long ago from its sheath on her belt. Her steps could barely be detected as she tiptoed along the fence to the gate at the side of the house, pleased and annoyed that the path turned to grass half way along. If only she’d known that when she was on the other side. Finding the gate unlocked, she inched it open and spun around, pressing her back to the wall and keeping her blade up as she waited for the movement on the other side of the fence to approach. To her delight, she found that her target succeeded her own lack of grace and trundled noisily towards the gate, swearing to himself and coughing.

Rolling her eyes at the shocking level of stupidity being displayed, she felt a rush of confidence when the door eased open and the man stepped into view. Holding his gun out in front of him proved to be fruitless when Jess knocked it clean from his hand with one swipe and threw her entire body weight at him, sending them both crashing into the door. Before she even had time to think, she had managed to work her blade into the space between his neck and the wood and was dragging it across the stubbled flesh with a sickening ease. She yanked the blade out and stepped back, watching as the man dropped to the floor and held onto the dark crimson, pulsing gash under his graying beard. He gurgled and spluttered and she winced when blood sprayed out of the wound between his fingers and peppered across her face and clothing. Adrenaline coursed through her veins but she had seen enough death to last a lifetime and took a moment to close her eyes and look away as the life drained out of the human being before her.

She pressed on, shoving the man’s pistol into her waistband and having to consciously hold back a cry of pure delight when she discovered a door in the fence to the next yard.

At last. Folks that actually liked one another enough to have an adjoining door in their yard.

She pulled back the rusty bolt and creaked the door open, finding another man wandering around with his back to her and peering into the windows of the house. She unhooked her bow and nocked an arrow, drawing in a steady breath as her feet took her closer and closer, still undetected and being provided with a perfect opportunity. This time, she wanted more than just a quick death for her potential assailant. She wanted information. At the bottom of the patio steps, she steadily lifted a boot and pulled her body weight up while keeping her aim steady. The man turned and her heart skipped a beat when he attempted to raise his gun.

“Uh-uh. Not advisable” She told him.

Her voice was surprisingly authoritative considering how unsteady her mind was when she saw the face of the man in front of her. In a split second, she was transported back to Aaron’s kitchen table and her wrists and thighs stung with the memory of the rough, strong hands that pinned her to the surface. In the throes of terror, while she fought with every fiber of her being to escape the clutches of the cruel men that intended to hurt her, she caught a glimpse of a face that she’d refused to remember until that point. While she knew that face belonged to a man that was no more, the individual she was pointing her weapon at looked remarkably like him. Her chest flooded with nerves and her breathing began to falter but on the surface she managed to hold it together. His mouth opened and she could tell he was going to yell for help.

“Shh” She hissed at him.

He jolted towards her, flinging an arm at her bow and knocking it to the floor. Having no time to gather her thoughts and consider he next move, her instincts took over and she snatched her machete from her belt with one hand as she took the final step and jammed her straightened fingers into the man’s Adam’s apple. The movement was so rapid, the man barely registered it until he buckled over and gagged at her feet. She heard him wheeze when the breath he so needed to inhale was snatched away. His gun fell from his hand and just when she thought she had the situation under control, he staggered to his feet and lashed out, managing to backhand her across the face, snapping her head to the side. Her vision blurred and pain seared through her cheekbone at the same time as pure rage began to simmer in her very soul. She stumbled back but instead of giving up, she forced her bad shoulder into action and bit down on her lower lip as she slashed across his stomach. His hands frantically sought to hold the deep cut in his abdomen closed but blood was soon seeping through his fingers and staining his clothes in a rapidly growing map of his demise. Taking the chance to re-equip her bow, she swooped down to it and plucked another arrow from her quiver just as she saw his lips part and panic fill his eyes.

“HEL-”

“-Keep yelling and I will drag your fucking guts out onto the grass.” She warned steadily and with an assured and certain edge to her voice. Her threat was not empty and she could see that despite his dire situation, the man was in no position to argue. “The girl your people kidnapped today. Is she alive?”

“I ain’t telling you shit, bitch.” He spat.

His voice was not unlike the man that Daryl had bludgeoned to death in Aaron and Eric’s kitchen. Similar face, similar voice, part of the same group. She was beginning to put the pieces together and could only conclude that she was now face-to face with the brother of one of the men that had tried to rape her. Her cheek was aching with discomfort and she knew that under her mask, a hefty bruise was forming and so, she opened her mouth, trying to rotate her jaw and stretch the compromised flesh for some relief. Blood was pooling on the ground beneath him and his hands were now almost completely red. Undoubtedly unsettled and enraged by his likeness to her attacker, she found a sinister satisfaction in bringing the tip of her arrow close to his right eye.

“You wanna rethink that, buddy?” She smirked.

Tears filled the mans terrified eyes and his shoulders were visibly shaking. Jess was sure that if anyone had told her she was capable of frightening a grown man to such an extent she would have thought them to be crazy, but there she was, holding a scared man hostage for information and refusing, point blank to back down.

“S-she’s alive” He croaked; his voice hoarse from her earlier jab at his throat. Initially, she’d been dismayed to find that she’d not hit him hard enough to make him vomit, just like Abraham had told her would happen if enough force was applied. But if she’d been graced with such an occurrence, she would end up talking to herself due to the high likelihood of her having killed him.

“How many of you are there?” she demanded as she watched the tip of her arrow wave around in front of his pupil.

“A hun-hundred or, or so. Not- not all here.” He admitted. His skin was starting to grey from the blood loss and voices could be heard nearing them from the street. Jess knew her time was running out.

“You all know each other? How can you tell who’s from your group and who’s not?” She pressed, jutting the arrow closer still. He closed his eyes briefly and she witnessed his chest spring up and down as he panted in fear.

“Too many of us to know everybody. We’re-we’re branded. My hand. But you-you don’t stand a chance alone.” He managed to say as he pulled back his leather jacket sleeve.

Jess wasn’t about to be that easily distracted and so, her eyes darted down to where he held his hand out and she noted the circular symbol seared into his flesh. Angry and new, even bordering on infection.

“Where would they be keeping the girl?” She asked.

“You’ll never get out alive.” He warned her.

“Where are they keeping her?!” She hissed, leaning further over him and making a show of pulling the bows strings back further. The weapon creaked and the man startled.

“The d-dorm rooms.”

“See? Now, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” She snipped sarcastically with a tilt of her head. Anger rose in the man’s eyes and his brow furrowed.

“Fuck you, bitch.” He spat. Saliva sprayed from his mouth, attaching to the scruff of his short beard. “You’re dead. You hear me. Fucking dead!”

Half of Jess wanted to just shut him up, but the other half had one more, key thing that she needed to know and she wasn’t about to let it drop. With mere seconds to spare before she was found by the others, she placed a boot on the man’s chest and kicked him backwards until his back hit the ground. He yelped in discomfort and the wound across his stomach oozed with yet more blood. It hit her that if she didn’t kill him and fast, he would die anyway and she would have to relinquish the gratification of putting him down herself.

“Did you have a brother?” She questioned as she towered over him with her bow still aimed at his eye.

“W-what?”

“You deaf as well as stupid? I said, did you have a brother?”

“Yeah… he’s dead…why?”

There it was, all the confirmation she needed that this violent but uniquely justified act would not only benefit their cause of freeing Enid, but it would also serve as revenge and closure for a trauma that was bestowed upon Jess and had festered around her, eating away at her sanity ever since. Now, she was finally able to move on.

“No reason.” She shrugged.

Releasing the arrow wasn’t the difficult part. It was having to stomach the nauseating process of carving the branded skin from the back of his hand so quickly that she ended up dragging tendons and nerves with her in a disgusting trail of red. As soon as her prize detached from his body, she turned and dunked it in an empty plant pot of stagnant water before running as fast as her legs would carry her. Gunshots from behind shocked her into moving even faster and she all but ran through the back fence and into the yard of a house in the next street. Wood and debris flew everywhere as she began to hack at the barrier with her machete, creating a hole big enough to crawl through.

-

From his vantage point behind the huge truck, Daryl had managed to put down two men that had noticed his whereabouts with bolts to the brain before they could even speak. But the sudden arrival of crossbow bolts out of the blue meant that the enemy was now scurrying around the compound like a group of frightened mice, all yelling at one another and trying to figure out where the offending shots had originated from. He’d missed a couple of attempts, much to his annoyance. Unable to retrieve them as he usually did, he was running out and fast.

His mind was not far from Jess. The gunshots he’d heard replayed over and over in his head. The thought of her getting hurt or killed literally made his legs feel weak and his chest throb with despair. But he had to believe that she would be fine, she would have it no other way and if she knew how much he’d fretted, she would not hesitate to tell him off in the strange, quirky way she always did. In fact, he couldn’t wait until the next time she did.

He waited for a chance to run, a gap in the pandemonium that would enable him to run to the building with the low windows and duck behind the bushes and wooden boxes stacked outside. From where he was, it looked like the fire exit to the dormitory building. With so many rooms to search inside, Daryl knew he had his work cut out. But it also meant that once inside, he had plenty of places to hide and use for cover.

Boots crossed the space in front of the truck and he dipped his head, monitoring their progress as they moved swiftly towards the gate. The light was fading fast and unless he moved in the next few minutes, they would be battling against the night as well as the enemy. He backed up and rounded the back of the truck, peering around the trunk and finding the coast as clear as it was going to be. He sprinted but as soundlessly as possible across the pathways and grass until he finally managed to reach the boxes. Noting the short distance that he would have to cross to get to the fire exit door, he crouched down and immediately noticed the sound of glass smashing in the far distance.

-

By some miracle and with an aching shoulder, Jess was meters away from the gate but stuck for ideas as to how to get inside and find Daryl. She pushed away the notion that he would be mad at her and figured she would deal with his wrath once they were home and dry. She cast her mind back to their original plan. Distract then sneak. The garage she was hiding behind was the closest unit to the gate that would provide her with enough cover. So, leaving it was not an option, she would have to think up a plan from where she was. Her eyes flitted around the area, at the bushes, the discarded garden tools, the rusty barbeque and the metal ladder.

She froze. The metal ladder. Distract then sneak. Wasting no time, she grabbed the ladder and positioned it against the garage, testing it by applying some weight on one of the rungs with her foot. It held up with enough stability and she climbed up a few steps, just enough to reach the top of the garage and still be hidden behind it. She shuffled on the rung and turned her body while she scanned the scene. Eventually, she did a double take at the roof of a greenhouse in a yard just far enough away to buy her some time. She carefully unhooked her bow and selected an arrow, aiming with less precision than she would have liked. But when the arrow shattered the greenhouses roof and sent a smashing sound echoing from the houses, the crash bouncing from walls and rising into the air, she smiled and quickly descended the ladder.

She strained to hear but there was no doubt that the tell tale sounds of her pursuers were all running to the distraction instead of following her. She had to move or she would lose her chance. She stood up straight, loaded her bow again and stepped out into the street. The first thing she saw was a short, stubby man standing in the middle of the open gate, unarmed and sweating. His hands shakily went up in surrender when he saw her and her bow released. If she thought about too much, she knew she would have talked herself out of it. The arrow flew past him and he flinched and squeezed his eyes closed. She couldn’t help it; she was embarrassed at yet another missed shot.

“Oh, C’mon now!” She growled to herself

He’s a goddamn sitting duck, you got this. You’re not missing three in one day.

His eyes bulged as she took aim again and for the second time, everything slowed and she bared her teeth in anticipation as the arrow flew towards the man. She sighed with relief when it hit him straight in the chest and knocked him backwards. Seizing the precious seconds that she’d earned, she ran at the gate and slowed to a creep as she slipped inside and followed Daryl’s path along the wall in the darkness.

-

Daryl was racing between the fire exit and the windows of the buildings, trying each one and finding them locked. He cursed under his breath and moved back to the boxes to re-evaluate his method. He’d hoped to gain access to the building and gradually work his way around the college due to having no idea where they would keep Enid and anyone else that they had captured.

“Psst!”

His head snapped up to find Jess laying on the gravel under the armored truck. She waved enthusiastically at him like a kid in a playground and he lifted an eyebrow in disbelief.

Told her to stay outside the fuckin’ walls.

After a brief double take at her, he angrily waved her off, mouthing to her to get back on the outside. She held up a finger to signal that he should wait and wriggled, clunking her bow on the underside of the truck and freezing for a couple of seconds until she was sure no one had noticed. Daryl held his breath and released it in frustration as he witnessed her pull something flesh colored from her jacket pocket and push herself backwards. She got to her feet behind the truck and glanced down at the item in her hand, then over at a perplexed Daryl. Just how was she going to get it over there without attracting the attention of the remaining men, who were now discovering the body of Jess’s latest victim at the gate?

Her arrows rattled at her back as she thought and the noise gave her an idea, albeit a risky one. She pulled an arrow from the quiver and impaled her gift to him onto the point. Then, she raised it up, gripped the feathered end tightly and flung it in Daryl’s direction. Closing her eyes as it left the point in mid-air probably wasn’t her best choice, but the anticipation was killing her and although her aim was a little off, the piece of branded flesh splatted onto the window above Daryl’s head with a thunk.

He startled when he saw it, his face twisting into a grimace as he snatched it from the glass and looked back at Jess with disgust. She held up her hands, slapping one over the back of the other and then pointing to the floppy, cold piece of skin in his grasp. He instantly understood although he was both shocked and impressed at her idea. Placing the wet burn mark over his own hand, he nodded at her and received an excitable thumbs up. Now, he just had to gain entry to the building. He lifted an arm and pushed at the glass of the window above him but it didn’t budge. Jess’s brain was working on overtime and she glanced around the compound, needing something to create another distraction with. Her eyes landed on the dark puddle on the ground a couple of metres away from the small gathering of what looked like six men by the entrance to the main building. Its slick, technicolor, rainbow effect shone in the beam from the floodlights.

That’s Gasoline.

It was a considerable distance away but she was faced with no choice, it was either try or Daryl would have to find another way in and risk getting caught. From her jacket pocket, she fished out a flare, popped the cap off and used the striking surface of the cap to light it. Then, she stepped out from behind the truck and chucked the flare along the floor as hard as she could, as if she was throwing a bowling ball. It skittered across the bumpy surface of the college's path and stopped just at the edge of the puddle. Tantalizingly close but not quite close enough. It was a matter of millimetres and Jess curled her hands into fists and growled through her teeth. Her luck seemed to be running out.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

She slumped back against the back of the truck and noticed Daryl watching the puddle with great interest. He slowly turned his head to her and held up a hand as he mouthed the words ‘just wait’.

Above the humming, murmuring of the conversation going on by the gate, all Jess could hear was her own labored breathing. She was out of ideas, having exhausted her one, last shot at getting Daryl safely into the building undetected. Or so she thought, until a hiss and a pop followed by a rush of air pulled her from her negativity. She spun around and peeked around the truck. The puddle had caught fire and the flames were rapidly growing. It worked.

She ripped the pistol from her waistband and quickly checked it over. Fully loaded. Safety off. Keeping her body flat to the back of the vehicle, she pointed the gun at the group, who were now all staring at the flames in bafflement and asking each other where the hell the flare had come from. She started firing, sending them all into a frenzy as bullets whizzed past their heads and they ran for cover. Deliberately, she aimed at windows of nearby buildings with the intention of causing as much noise as possible. With the puddle of gasoline raging and the men all panicked and seeking cover, with glass shattering all around them and no idea where the gunfire was originating from, Jess quickly put a few bullets in the window above Daryl, enough to smash most of the pane. He sprang to his feet and managed to climb inside but Jess was in no doubt that his hands would be cut to ribbons. With her work done, she sighed with relief and backed into the shadows and bushes behind the gate. Now, it was down to him.

Then, she felt like a spare part. She counted four remaining men altogether when the three that had been following her outside finally arrived back inside the walls. She was too far away to hear their discussion, but they were still on high alert with two skulking back and forth around the inside of the wall. She ducked under the bushes to avoid the flashlights of their rifles and tried to figure out how she would handle it if one of them was to find her. But she quickly realized that her only chance and it was a slim one, was to fight with her machete and knife. Face to face. She was under no illusions that their foe was as wise as the world was flat, but she still wasn’t going to risk hand to hand combat with four, armed men. Not willing to partake in such a suicide mission, she kept still and quiet and willed Daryl to re-emerge with Enid in tow so they could work their way out of there together.

It felt like forever. Like hours and days had passed with her boots sinking into the mud between the bushes. The distinct lack of Daryl during the uncomfortable wait gave her a tiny sense of what it might be like if he wasn’t in her life anymore. She’d be waiting. All the time. Waiting for him to return but he never would. She shivered at the thought and shifted her weight from one foot to the other, her limbs beginning to numb from having to stay in the same place for so long.

In reality, it was around ten minutes when Daryl finally reappeared with Enid and was soon shoving her through the smashed window. Pleased to see that she was still dressed in her usual attire and seemed to be relatively untouched save for a black eye, Jess gestured wildly for her to cross the short distance from the bushes to the truck. With a quick check in each direction, Enid shot out from the leaves and was grabbed by Jess on the other side who quickly wrapped her arms around her and squeezed her tight. At her back, she could sense her jacket being gripped in the young girls’ hands, so tightly that she thought she might tear a hole in the leather. Her relief at seeing her rescuers had prompted tears to fill her eyes and Jess’s were threatening to do the same until she clocked Daryl climbing from the window with what looked like a rocket strapped to his back. She gradually eased Enid apart from her torso and gawped at the sight.

“Enid?” She whispered but in a high-pitched chirp.

“Yeah?”

“Is that a…a Rocket Launcher on Daryl’s back?”

“Yeah. He found the weapons room.”

“Huh. Sweet.” Jess huffed in amusement. “Nothing like an RPG to add some more Drama.”

Equipping his crossbow, Daryl began firing bolts at anyone he could see and Jess stepped in to help without question. She coaxed Enid behind her and told her to stay there with Daryl also adding that she should move when they do as they closed in on the gate, using more boxes and vehicles for cover. Catching his eye as he reloaded his crossbow with his foot in the stirrup, he hauled the strings back and clicked them into place.

“Go, I’ll cover you. Get her to the car.” He panted.

She didn’t want to leave him and everything in her told her to stay by his side but she had a duty to Enid and if anything was to happen to her, the whole thing would have been in vain. Too many people had died at the hands of the brainless but still dangerous group and she couldn’t let Enid become another number on their kill list. Daryl could handle himself, she was certain of that, but it still didn’t stop the churning worry in her heart that if she left him, something bad could happen. She looked over the boxes shielding her and started to count more assailants filtering out from the buildings.

They’re like ants. They’re everywhere.

He could see her pause and think and flicked an arm out in the direction of the gate, only metres away from where they hid.

“Go, Jess!” He raged at her, snapping her from her overthinking and spurring her on to take hold on Enid’s arm and drag her towards the gate. Bullets narrowly missed them and they kept on, running as fast as possible and trying to keep low until they reached houses and Jess guided Enid to the garage she’d hidden behind before.

“Are you okay? Are you hit?” She gasped.

“N-no.” Enid stuttered.

Then, it was Daryl’s turn. He stood up, shot a bolt through the eye of a man standing dangerously close to him and dropped him in seconds. It was his last bolt. Adrenaline surged in his veins as he made for the gate, sweat dripping into his eyes and soaking his hair. His heart pounded and a short, puff of air grazed his ear. A bullet a hair's breadth away. He pulled a handgun from his belt and could see Jess and Enid emerge from the side of a house; they began hurrying along in front of him with wide eyes glimpsing back at him.

He stopped and turned back, fearlessly eliminating two more men who came rushing at him. Despite the chaos, his shots were steady and accurate, his aim impeccable. He silently thanked his lucky stars that he had a brother like Merle, who insisted on shooting everything in sight with whatever weapons they could get their hands on. He switched the gun for the RPG across his body and yelled at the top of his lungs for Jess and Enid to keep running. He sucked in a deep breath and hauled the weapon onto his shoulder, noticing four more men intent on killing him. Upon realizing the grave danger that they were about to be put in, they immediately stopped and started running in the other direction, screaming a horrified chorus of ‘fall back!’ and ‘RPG!’. Daryl slowly released his breath and pulled the trigger. The weapon popped and whooshed and fire exploded in front of him. He staggered but remained upright enough to find that he’d hit the main building and the propane canisters stacked at the entrance, sending a booming cloud of dust, flames and debris spiraling into the sky. A shockwave rumbled across the ground, meaning Jess and Enid plummeted onto the road's surface and skidded harshly along the gritty floor.

Daryl also hit the deck but was soon on his feet and whirling around, his eyes wide and searching for her.

“Jess?!”

From the gutter, Jess stuck a hand in the air and Enid groaned next to her, rolling over onto her back and holding her head.

“I’m here. I think” Jess moaned.

Hands took hold of her jacket and heaved her upright, her legs buckled and she clung to him, her eyes blinking the grit away and making out his blurry figure.

“Y’alright?” He rasped.

“Well…my eyebrows don’t hurt.” She croaked.

Enid got to her feet and brushed her clothing down. She swapped a worried look with Daryl and slid her hand under Jess’s forearm. She flinched when the crack of gunfire interrupted her attempt to bring Jess back to her senses.

“Go! Run!” Daryl ordered.

One more man stepped out from the gate amongst the smoke and falling cloud of grey and let rip with a high-powered rifle. The sound cracked through Jess’s already timid ears and prodded the now increasingly growing ball of fury that was sitting tight in her chest. Daryl returned fire as best he could but Jess was reaching the end of her tether. Her arm was being yanked in one direction by Enid who was imploring her to follow while she used cars and trash cans as cover. A brief halt in the shooting slowed everything down for Jess and she let her impulsivity take over, no longer able to fight it.

He’s reloading.

She grasped at her bow and stepped out from behind a car, swiftly nocking an arrow and drawing the strings back. Daryl’s heart all but stopped when he lay eyes on her. The woman he cared about, standing in the middle of the street and open to attack.

“No! Jess! What are ya doin?!” He cried. He ran at her with every intention of bundling her back behind the empty car, but she released the arrow and he stopped, his boots skidding slightly. He slowly turned his head to find the man in the gateway falling backwards with Jess’s arrow firmly embedded right between his Eyes. Suddenly snapping out of her determined trace, her mouth fell open and she stared in astonishment at what was an incredibly accurate shot.

“C’mon. We gotta get outta here.” Daryl urged from her side. His fingertips grazed the arm of her jacket.

“Did you see that shot?!” She asked in amazement “Did you see that amazing shot?!”

“Really, Jess?! You want me to throw ya a damn party?!” he exclaimed in frustration “We gotta get outta here. Walkers will be comin’ in for miles around ‘cause of the racket we made.” He wandered off, mumbling to a scared and confused Enid to follow him.

“But that was some Hawkeye shit right there” Jess mumbled blankly to herself while following on, disappointed at the lack of credit she’d received for such a movie-worthy shot.

At the end of the street, they took a left and Daryl was happy to see that the car they’d borrowed from Alexandria was still parked at the sidewalk and didn’t appear to have any smashed windows. Carl would still be in one piece. He wondered how he was going to explain it all away to Rick when he returned and figured that his best bet was honesty, although it would get the kid into trouble, it was his own responsibility to deal with his dishonesty. It was something Daryl had to do as far back as he could remember. He had no one to bail him out of anything if Merle was in prison or away with the military. It was how he’d grown and evolved into the kind of person that looked out for himself and relied on no one.

A yelp from Jess’s left saw her spinning around to find Enid being held by a skinny, dirty, long haired man with hardly any teeth. He had his arm around her throat and a gun pointed to the side of her head. She didn’t struggle or move, but Jess could see the terror in her eyes when a tear escaped and rolled down her cheek. The man was grinning maniacally from ear to ear, flashing his gappy smile and striking a sinister fear into Jess’s heart. She’d seen this kind of smile before, in horror movies and on Halloween masks. The reality of it being ten times worse. A shiver ran down her spine.

“Daryl” She whispered, seeing him stop and turn in her peripheral vision.

“You’re not taking her. She belongs to us. Finders, Keepers.” The man told them. Spittle sprayed from his mouth and Enid grimaced when he pushed his face to the side of her head and smelt her hair.

“I’ma wipe that shit-eatin’ grin off ya face” Daryl warned, raising his gun.

The man began to laugh. A throaty, mucus-filled laugh that seemed to boom through the trees and surrounding area. It made Jess nauseous to think of how bad he must smell, right next to Enid’s face.

“It’s alriiight!” He chuckled. “I’ll just kill her, then. Take this one instead.” He nudged his head up at Jess. Her stomach bubbled with bile and she could literally see Daryl’s body tense with rage.

“I’m gonna fuckin’ kill you” He growled.

“You and your little town. Over there with your precious women and your food and medicine. Y’all think you got it made. But y’all are gonna die. We’re all infected. Every last one of us. So why not have a little fun bef-”

The red mist descended and Jess’s vision blurred with crimson tones. It was almost dark but it wasn’t the lack of light that was hindering her. Her ears rang and she thought her eardrum had burst. Everything was muffled. Daryl’s voice, Enid’s voice. Her eyes lowered to the ground and she blinked the red away to find the man’s headless body slumped over her shoes. She swallowed and regained her hearing, shakily stepping back away from the body.

“Carl?!” She heard Daryl gasp.

She looked up and sure enough, Carl was standing there with a shotgun in his hands, his chest heaving and his mouth open. Enid threw herself at him, knocking the gun to one side and wrapping her arms around him. He dropped the gun and slowly raised his hands, placing them on her back and blinking in shock.

I’ll be damned. Kid blew the guys fucking brains out. Jess thought.

Daryl swooped over to Jess, his hands brushing her hood back and her mask down and picking leaves and twigs from her hair. Her face was covered with the spray of blood from Carl’s unexpected head shot.

“Close ya eyes.” He told her. She complied, now too exhausted to complain and totally done with the day altogether. She wanted nothing more than to crawl into her bed and once the adrenaline worse off, she was sure she would sleep for a week. He gently smoothed his thumbs and forefingers over her eyelids, ridding her of the wet, coppery substance. His eyes stopped on the swelling under her eye and across her cheekbone where she’d been backhanded and he was surprised to find that emotion knotted in every part of him. 

Somebody hit her. Somebody hit Jess. My Jess.

“Open ya eyes.” He rasped.

There he was, the man that wiped her tears, held her at night and protected her from nightmares, cleaned mud from her body, checked her for wounds and rubbed blood from her face. His eyes were filled with concern and his bottom lip was shaking ever so slightly.

“You good?”

She was tired and shocked and had seen enough death and violence for one day. She was sure that the events of the last hour would stay with her forever but the last thing she wanted at that point, was to fill him with more concern.

“Mm...I’m…dandy.” She mumbled.

Through their whole exchange, Enid had refused to let go of Carl, who was now enveloping her in a bear hug and gently swaying from side to side, whispering in her ear and stroking her long ponytail. Daryl’s shoulders relaxed and he sighed, holding back a smile at such a sweet sight. It was what Carl had wanted all along, the chance to save her, to protect her and comfort her. Daryl understood, mainly because he wanted the same for Jess. He briefly looked at her, finally letting himself smile when he noticed her beaming at the two hugging teenagers like a proud parent.

Eventually, Jess managed to prize Enid away and took her to the car, sitting her in the back seat and signalling to Daryl that she needed a minute alone with her. He didn’t need to ask why, figuring that Enid had been in the clutches of a violent and dangerous group of men and as a female, there were certain questions that needed to be asked as soon as possible. He wandered over to Carl, receiving a sheepish look.

“What did I tell you, Carl?” He asked while scanning the street around them.

“Stay in the Car.” Carl replied sadly.

“That’s right. And what did you not do?”

“Stay in the car.”

“Yup.”

“I’m sorry” Carl offered sincerely. Daryl lit a smoke after delighting in the fact that the packet hadn’t been completely squashed in his pocket from all the action. He exhaled heavily and Carl watched the bluish smoke rise into the air above him.

“Good job, kid.” Daryl said. The look on the Grime’s boy’s face was an absolute picture, pure confusion laced with a little trepidation. He didn’t dare smile just yet, unsure of weather or not Daryl was luring him into a false sense of security. Instead, he stayed still and stared at him.

“What?” he squeaked.

“Saved her life.” Daryl pointed out.

The realization hit him and he exhaled, rubbing at his forehead under his sheriffs’ hat. His hair was scraggly and wet from his profuse sweating. Psychologically, it was no easy feat to blow someone’s head clean off with a shotgun at close range.

“Thanks,” he said with a small laugh.

“You tell her ya like her yet?” Daryl inquired with a step closer to him.

“No,” Carl admitted.

“Hmm”. Daryl hummed thoughtfully. “Alright. Well, just so ya know; if you pull this shit again, I’ma rat you out to the girl.”

His face dropped and worry crossed his features. He slowly shook his head and prepared to beg Daryl to keep his mouth shut, stopping only when he saw a smirk form on his lips.

“I’m just playin’, man.” He sniggered. “I’m serious though, you do this again n’ I will make ya life pretty difficult. You gotta be safe. You don’t know how much it’d mess ya ol’ man up if he lost ya. And um…and me. It’d mess me up too.”

Carl, having grown up way faster than he should have done and being wise beyond his years, was not without his faults. But Daryl respected the courage he possessed and his willingness to help others. He was most definitely his father’s son and the traits that shone in Carl were everything that Daryl admired in Rick. He could only hope to one day be the kind of man that could lead a group, now a community, like Rick did. Carl stuck his hand out, offering to solidify his promise and Daryl accepted, shaking his hand and nodding towards the car.

 Jess stood with her arms crossed and her mask and hood down at the trunk of the car when Daryl placed the rocket launcher inside along with his crossbow. He kept his gun in his waistband and slammed the trunk shut. Unable to avoid her piercing gaze, he finished his smoke, flicked it away and raised his eyebrows at her.

“What’cha lookin’ at?”

“As if things weren’t exciting enough for you, you show up with that big, spicy weapon.”

“Like the guy said; finders, keepers.” He shrugged.

She leaned forwards with her gloved hands on the trunk and grinned at him, ignoring the Walkers that were starting to filter out between the houses towards the fire at the college. He could tell that she was working up to tease him or provoke him into an exchange of jest and after the day they’d had, he welcomed the change in conversation. She inspected his scratched and cut arms, remembering that he must have cut his hands and making a mental note to check them when they had a chance to breathe.

“You’re just a redneck glitter bomb of glory, aintcha?” she chuckled, suddenly remembering a phrase that Abraham had said to her in the armory one afternoon. “Ain't nothin’ like a man with a great, big…gun, Daryl.”

He scoffed and shyly nibbled on his lower lip, rocking back slightly on his heels. He searched his mind for an appropriate flirtatious comment to throw back at her but everything that presented itself was either too ‘Merle-like’ and graphic or not witty enough and so, he endured his reddened cheeks and burning ears and simply laughed bashfully at her.

“Get in the car, girl.”

-

The night was black. A velvet canopy across the sky with twinkling diamonds. The lack of street lighting meant the world, or what was left of it, was now able to appreciate the stars and planets on show unlike ever before. It was unfortunate that it took a global catastrophe for those still alive to take the time to look up and contemplate how small and insignificant the earth is in such a vast and complex universe.

It was Enid that asked to stop and camp somewhere for the night. She admitted she hadn’t eaten for almost twelve hours and the trembling of her hands corroborated her claim. Jess pulled the car into a gap in the trees on a country road, bumping it over the terrain as far into the woods as she could go, until the dense trees stopped her from being able to conceal the car from the road anymore. They set up camp, using the tree trunks to lean against and lighting a fire with which they used to heat up tins of pasta and beans that were stashed in every car and truck in Alexandria, just in case. Daryl fashioned a Walker alert system from string and metal trash items from the side of the road. Tins, parts of alloys, plastic bottles and bags would make enough noise to alert them if anything undead, or alive for that matter decided to walk through their camp. He’d picked off a couple of Walkers from the surrounding area while scouting for any danger but saw no other signs of disturbance. They were safe for the time being, but they would have to keep their wits about them and take it in turns to sleep.

Jess was leaning against the car, watching Carl and Enid talk in hushed tones when Daryl returned from scouting their surroundings.

“Should be safe enough.” He announced.

“Good. I’ll take first watch” She suggested. “Can I…Can I talk to you for a minute?”

Her request seemed to catch him off guard and his mind raced at the possible subjects she may want to discuss. He nodded and gestured to the dark clearing behind the car where they’d driven in. They walked a few feet away, out of earshot to Carl and Enid and Daryl told himself that going forward, such private conversations were likely to be taxing and emotional when he thought of how far their relationship had progressed.

She awkwardly tapped her thigh in front of him. He said nothing, allowing her to work up to whatever she wanted to say. Multiple times, she opened her mouth to speak only to find that nothing happened and she recoiled back into herself, huffing and screwing her face up. She knew what she wanted to say, but there was just no easy way of saying it.

I love you. I could have lost you today. I need you to know that I love you.

Suddenly, words didn’t seem enough to convey the depths of her true feelings for him. Not knowing what else to do, she closed the gap between them and slid her arms around his middle, turning her head and pushing the side of her face against his chest. He smelled of sweat and leather and nicotine, but it was just the way she liked him. Loved him. Just the way he was. His body tensed initially but she soon heard him swallow hard and position his arms around her shoulders. She closed her eyes when he rested his chin against the side of her head. It could have all been over in a second, all it would have taken was a shot. One shot in the wrong place and one of them could have been dead. The other forced to go on without the one person they truly cared for more than anyone else.

“Sorry.” She said against his leather vest. He dropped his arms and she broke away from him but he held onto her hand, lightly clutching her fingertips.

“No” He whispered “I needed that as much as you.”

She offered him a feeble smile. It was all she could do to stop herself from planting a risky and dangerous kiss on him with Carl and Enid in such close proximity. She couldn’t even be sure if they’d been rumbled by Carl earlier that day, the last thing they needed was for Enid to catch them as well.

Daryl dropped her hand but she refused to move back anymore. She traced the edge of his vest with her fingertips, slowly moving them up, then down again.

“That was some pretty cool shit back there, Rambo.” She told him.

“Thanks. You too. The skin thing, the branding. Got me in and past four guys before they realized it wasn’t mine. Good thinkin’. And that shot ya took…was badass.” He confessed. Her heart leapt. He did appreciate it. After all, he’d taught her how to use her bow and how to fight, the reason she’d fared so well in what was a chaotic and dangerous situation was because Daryl had taught her. If she really wanted to ponder the scale of things, she would have been dead many times over if he hadn’t told her how to kill Walkers, hunt and skin animals and fight with a knife.

“I know” She shrugged ”it was nothing.” He chuckled under his breath at her and stopped instantly when the corners of her mouth dropped and she hesitantly peered up at him.

“Do I, uh…do I really piss you off?” She wanted to know.

Guilt swept over him. She’d remembered something that he’d long forgotten. He always took pride in his code, part of which was only saying the things he meant, but Jess had changed him and he found her both captivating and able to irritate him easier than anybody else ever had. He’d heard Rick talk about how Lori used to be the only person that could rouse such rage in him, but he’d explained that it stemmed from the ones we’re closest to being the ones that can truly press our buttons. Jess got under his skin without him even realizing it but he would have it no other way. For the most part, she was a ray of sunshine in his dark and dreary existence, a sign of hope and her sense of humor was uniquely able to penetrate his hardened exterior. He hadn’t meant what he’d carelessly thrown at her in the car and he promised himself to make more of a marked effort to stick by his own code.

“Sometimes.” He confessed.

“I’m sorry.”

“Nah, you’re like math.”

“Math?” She questioned skeptically.

“Yeah. Difficult at times, but worth gettin’ to know.” He explained.

Jess laughed and playfully nudged him in the arm, being careful not to aggravate any of the many cuts and bruises he’d acquired.

“That is a backhanded compliment if ever I heard one but I will take it.” She grinned.

-

Enid slept as soundly as possible using Jess’s backpack as a pillow and the casual clothes from inside it as a blanket. Daryl set about finding wood and carving arrows across from Jess, with the fire in-between them with the odd, tension laden glance swapped between them. She got butterflies in her stomach every time he looked over the flames at her with his steely blue eyes and his serious expression and when Carl plonked himself down cross-legged beside her, she was happy for the distraction. Getting caught drooling over Daryl was not in her plan for the evening.

The space either side of the fire was not wide enough for conversations now to be overheard by accident, but Jess kept her voice to a whisper nonetheless and leaned towards Carl.

“Why’d you go all Steve Rogers on me?” She demanded.

“Huh?”

“You told Daryl what I said about him when I asked you not to. That was supposed to be a covert operation, smart-ass.” She scolded with a slight push of his knee. His face dropped when he remembered his lapse and the breaking of her trust. He hadn’t intended to disclose anything secret, rather Daryl had dragged it out of him and he found himself talking and regretting every word.

“I didn’t mean to. It just came out. Sorry.” He pleaded.

“It’s fine. It’s done now. He knows.” She informed him with a quick peep at Daryl, who was busy holding up an arrow in the light of the fire and painstakingly carving it to perfection. “It was horribly embarrassing and yes, I hope you feel guilty.”

“Hey, even Steve Rodgers makes mistakes.” He pointed out.

Much to her disgust, he did have a point. Captain America did indeed, make mistakes. But not many and he made up for it by saving the world.

“Alright, alright, just forget it.” She said, rolling her eyes.

“Did it work?” He hushed at her.

“Hmm? Did what work?”

“Daryl. He knows that you think he’s a good person. Are you guys-”

“-No. No. we are not. That is none of your business anyway.” She confirmed with an awkward clearing of her throat and fidgeting in her spot. “Change the subject.”

“Okay…um…Who’s your favorite Superhero? Don’t say Vision, we already discussed him.” He instructed smugly.

Jess thought for a moment, and found herself observing Daryl across the glow of the fire. She liked the way he furrowed his brow when he concentrated and applied such focus and intensity to his task. It was the same way he’d given her his undivided attention when he helped her to wash the mud from her skin after dislocating her shoulder. In turn, this prompted her to remember all of the things he’d done for her, from fetching her a pack of pens on a run to staying by her side and allowing her to sleep in his arms to quieten her dreams. In the real world, Daryl Dixon was her favorite superhero.

“Bucky Barnes.” She said confidently.

“The Winter Soldier? Interesting” Carl mused. “More of an anti-hero, though.”

“Nah-uh” Jess disagreed with a shake of her head. She picked up a twig and began drawing in the dust as she spoke, starting with a circle, followed by a star in the middle “Bucky was a victim of Hydra. He was a good man but through no fault of his own was turned into someone he didn’t want to be. Yeah, he did bad things but he was brainwashed and didn’t know any better.” Through the circle in the dust she began to draw lines, horizontally across and stepped in the middle. Carl listened intently. “Once he was out of the control of the bag guys, he was able to choose and he chose to be good. He was hard on himself for his past, sure. But the people that loved him knew who he really was and what he was forced to do. He didn’t have the best childhood either, and that can have a big effect on a person’s morals…their code. Come out the other side of that a decent person and you only have yourself to thank. Nobody else.”

Without Jess’s knowledge, Daryl could hear everything and he glanced up from his task, seeing Carl leaning towards her, enthralled by her interpretation of a misunderstood character and his eyes transfixed on the symbol she was drawing on the ground. Under the guise of carving arrows, Daryl continued to lend an ear to the revealing explanation she had to offer. For some reason, he felt exposed and uncomfortable listening to her talk about what made a person good, despite their past.

“I feel like he spent a lot of time running from his past and that’s something a lot of us can relate to. Especially now.” She finished up her dust drawing and Carl titled his head, giving the image of The Winter Soldier’s symbol an affirming nod. “Also, he’s very nice to look at” She chuckled. “Those blue eyes just drew me right in.”

“More of a Black Widow fan myself.” Carl chimed in with a smile.

“Gotcha” She winked.

Carl occupied himself for the next minute by drawing more Marvel character symbols in the dust and scuffing them out with his boot. When he dropped the twig and looked over at Enid, his gaze lingered there as he observed the sleeping girls face and the way her pain seemed to dissipate when she was lulled into a slumber.

“You think she’ll be okay?” He asked Jess.

“Yeah, with us watching over her. Sure.” She assured him. “They didn’t touch her. Aside from the black eye to knock her out. We were just in time. She’s still working through some stuff though. I heard she watched her parents die. Some things never get easier to live with”

She heard a faint hum of agreement from him and dragged her bow across the ground towards her, resting it across both of their legs and taking out a piece of rag from her inside pocket. She grit her teeth as she put all her effort into ripping it into two halves, successfully managing to separate it and handing him one half. Wordlessly, she began dusting and buffing the frame of the bow at one end, with Carl soon following her actions at the other.

“I watched my mom die too.” Carl mumbled.

Once again, Daryl slowly lifted his head, this time staring at Carl through his hair. He’d never heard him talk about his mother before, even when Daryl had offered up his experience of his own mother's death to convey that no matter how painful it was, it is possible to live with it and that Carl wouldn’t be alone. Even then, he hadn’t witnessed Carl actively surrender such information, not to Rick, not to him. Not to anyone. Apparently, Jess had the knack for encouraging people to talk to her.

“You did?” She gently asked.

“When she was giving birth to Judith… I had to shoot her”

Jess closed her eyes for a second and tried to fathom the amount of strength it must have taken for a kid to come to terms with having to go through with such a horrendous act. She didn’t think anyone should have to endure the terrors that the apocalypse brought, least of all children. She placed her hand over his.

“Y’know, your mom, wherever she is, is super proud of you. Everybody always says the same thing; ‘we’ve all lost people’…but it’s okay to miss her.” She soothed.

“You miss your family?” He asked.

“Everyday.” She smiled, remembering their faces and their quirks. The places they’d lived, their individual laughs and personalities. She missed them terribly but they were always there, carried in her heart and sharing a piece of her soul and as long as she lived, so would they.

“I wish Judith didn’t have to grow up without a mom. She would have loved her, a lot.” He sighed sadly.

“You should talk to her about your mom.” She proposed “As she gets older, you could tell her things. What she liked, what made her laugh and smile, the trips you went on, the memories you made.” She gently pat his hand and resumed her dusting of the bows frame.

“Yeah, that’s a good idea.” He contemplated. “Then, they’ll be like her memories too. I like that. What do you remember about your mom?”

Jess chuckled to herself and looked up at the trees, casting her mind back to before the turn. In the days when everyone was safer and happier than they realized.

“Well, she was five foot nothing and I remember my brother was getting on her nerves one day. She tried to yell at him, but even as a teenager he was so tall in comparison that it was like watching her yell at a bird in the sky. My dad lifted her right up and put her on a chair so that she could scold him face to face.”

Carl giggled animatedly and Jess’s vision swung over to Daryl, who was looking intently at her with the faintest curve of his lips.

“Hey, Carl?” Daryl called out. “Should sit right here, next to her.” He got up from the ground and gathered his knife and I carved pieces of wood. Rounding the fire he looked down at Carl. “Should be there for her when she wakes up” 

With that, Carl said nothing but quickly switched places with Daryl, who settled down next to Jess. 

“Somebody hit you” he mentioned, much to Jess’s surprise. Her hand instinctively went to the tender patch of skin along her cheekbone and she thought she may well have a matching shiner with Enid. 

“Yeah. It’s nothing though. It’ll fade.” She brushed off.

”You kill him?” He wanted to know. 

“Yeah.” She replied solemnly. Killing wasn’t something that would ever sit well with her, even if it was a case of them or her. It was a part of survival, but that didn’t make it any easier. 

“Don’t feel bad,” he said “I know you. You feel bad. If you hadn't killed him, I would have. I’ll kill any motherfucker that touches you.”

She didn’t respond. Partly due to having no idea how to. Was he saying this because he had genuine, romantic feelings for her? Or, was it just Daryl being protective of someone he saw as his one, close friend? The close friend that he kissed. Jess contemplated the fact that even though a conversation had been instigated and awkwardly discussed, she still was no closer to finding out exactly how he saw her and until then, she was still treading a kind of of tightrope that meant the difference between plummeting into disappointment or balancing on a wire of uncertainty. She knew that she loved him and that was not going to change, but would she ever be able to love him the way she wanted to, the way she needed to? Out in the open with no shame and no secrets. Only time and even more patience would tell.

--- 

Masterlist

---

tagging as requested

@lilred254​ @woundmetender​ @lonewolf471​

#daryl dixon #the walking dead daryl #twd daryl #daryl fanfiction #daryl x oc

[mrnibblesleviathan]

Entry 5.2: Philippa Torgal

AUTHOR NOTE: We’re not putting links on these anymore because of tumblr being rude, our blog has hyperlinks on the sidebar and the fic tag listed. Sorry about that.

“I’m going outside.” Bart could barely hear his father pleading for him to come back inside, but he was already swimming to his seamoth, parked out of sight of the crabsquids. He had just jumped into the driver's seat and began piloting it upwards when he heard it. A deafening roar, some of the rocks from the pillars and the cave ceiling above shook and fell. 

He turned the little ship around as fast as he could, only to see the habitat torn open, Maida, spear in hand, in the grasp of a dragon as it descended beyond where his ship could go. He tried to scream but he couldn’t hear anything. He drove closer, looking for a trace of his father, something, somewhere. No sign of him, he got out of the seamoth and entered the remains of the base.

He saw someone else. Long black hair, warm, welcoming eyes. Then he finally heard himself scream.

Ryley woke up in the middle of the night with a blood curdling scream coming from Bart’s room. Rushing down the hallways and a ladder, they found him, tangled in sheets on the floor. Hesitantly, they knelt down next to him and pulled him into their arms. As they held him tightly, the shouts died down, slowly. Ryley rocked slowly, not really knowing what else to do until Bart woke up.

After the moment’s confusion, Bart finally opened his eyes, and then his mouth. “Do you happen to know how I landed on the floor?” Ryley snickered and gave back a shrug. They pulled out their PDA, and smiled at the pointed look Bart gave them.

“What? It’s really hard to sign at this angle!” Ryley ignored their friend’s disapproving frown and continued. “You didn’t happen to have another of those friendly visions, did you?” They asked. The man was still quiet, with a scared look in his eyes. “Was it a bad dream?”

When they didn’t get much of a response, they continued, “it might help to talk about it.”

“Ryley… how is my mother these days?” Bart broke out, in a tone so low it could pass as a whisper. “How was she when you left? How was she after I left?”

The question took Ryley so off guard that they almost dropped Bart. Fortunately, the guy got up on his own when he noticed their wrists tightening in a grasp for something that wasn’t quite there. It had been years since… they didn’t even consider Bart was unaware of everything that had happened in his homeworld since he left. How would they tell him that? They didn’t even have time to think about it, to prepare for that kind of conversation.

“Ryley… my gods, what happened?” Bart’s voice rose an octave, indicating panic. Ryley shook their head and grit their teeth. They decided they had to be strong for their friend. There was no easy way to tell that.

“I’m afraid I don’t have a happily ever after story for you, my friend.” They typed. “Will you make an exception for the PDA this time? I’ll have to go from the beginning, and I don’t wanna mess this up.”

“Mess what up? I, I… I don’t understand, what’s gotten you so... Please, just. So long as you talk.”

“Do you remember that shortly after you left Earth, I fought with my parents? There was a falling out between us. They kicked me out, we weren’t on speaking terms anymore…”

“I remember, that’s when my mom stepped up.” Bart said. “She took you in and threatened to sue them if they tried anything. We talked through the deep-space comms until you fell asleep, and I felt bad I wasn’t there for you.”

Ryley smiled fondly at the memory. “Your mother was. You know how she is. And well, now you know how after that I became part of the family. You and your father were gone, and we were both so lonely. We became each other’s new family.”

“So at least you had each other. Thank you, Ryley, I… it worried me so much how alone my mother was, out there.”

But Ryley held out his hand. They weren’t finished yet.

“Do you remember that Bentley guy? Dusty old fart, friend of your dad’s. He had a weird Rich People name, that guy. Wentworth, or something like that. Well, Wentworth Bentley....” What was next read by the PDA got muffled by Bart’s laughter. Ryley rewinded a bit. “Shortly after you were… declared dead, she agreed to ‘loan’ the company to Bentley, as she didn’t feel, well, stable enough to run a galactic trade company. But it had the legal contract that if you somehow made it back, you would be the owner. He signed without paying much mind to it. Probably believed it to be impossible anyways, and that Philippa Torgal was just an old lady holding onto false hopes.”

“I always did think he was a dick. Using a helpless widowed lady like that.” Bart grumbled, earning a compassionate nod from Ryley.

“I’m sorry, Bart. Everything went downhill from there. I took odd jobs, programming and the like, for a while to help her out. That asshole Bentley didn't give her much of a compensation, considering all of the expenses she had to handle in the wake of everything. So I eventually joined with the TransGov Military. Didn’t like it all that much, but at least they put me with the drones and computers instead. That made Phillipa worry a lot less.”

Bart choked a bit. “Hold on, you, you, of all people , joined the bloody military?”

“This is a lot of stuff to type, please hold your comments until the end” Ryley paused the log, glancing at their friend, who did actually have the decency to look a bit ashamed. “Anyways. I came back to visit every now and again. But then when I finally quit, saved up enough money to pay off everything, I came back to an empty house. Found out from the neighbor that she was in the hospital. Ran the whole way there. She had something lethal called Byrn Verril’s Disease, I think you must know it, Mr. ‘I beamed an entire biomedical database into my head’. She was in late stages of it too. She didn’t want to worry me I guess, that’s why she never said anything. But she died that day. My only family left... I had her hand in mine, she wasn’t alone. I don’t know if that helps, but I did what I could.”

By the time the log was finished, Ryley was silent, crying into their hands, not looking up. The memories were too heavy, even when read by the stupid-sounding monotone of the computer AI. They wondered, vaguely, if they should try to recreate a more human voice for it.

“Ryley…” Bart was torn.  “Thank you for taking care of her.”

“I wanted to do more. I never should have taken the military job, I should have stayed with her.”

“You didn’t know. Ry, you did so much more than I could, please don’t beat yourself up. You’re always doing that, do you even know how much you meant to us? To her?”

“I’m sorry.” Ryley typed out. “Bart, I know it can’t be easy to get news like that. If you need me here I’ll stay. If you need to talk about something else to ease your mind, maybe I can help with that bad dream you were having?”

“Thank you pal, but, you should go to sleep. You look exhausted, and I don’t wanna keep you up anymore.”

“Fair point. Well, you always look exhausted.”

“That’s true. But nope. To bed with you. I--I’d like to think about this for a while first. Some time alone.”

Ryley got up slowly, waving their head.

It was past morning time when Ryley woke up again, several hours later than when they usually did. Damn, Bart was right, they must’ve been really tired.

Now they were worried about the guy. How had he been after their sorrowful talk during the night? Ryley walked out the room to find Bart in the workstation room. They knocked on the wall to call attention to themself.

“You made this?” They signed, walking up to the window wall. It now had a desk in front of it, complete with a chair and a drawer full of parts and materials. Bart had already decorated it with a few hologram projectors, and was now off to working on some maps.

“Oh, you see, I had the sinking feeling I’d probably cause a disaster if I kept doing science in the kitchen.” He said, smiling but not looking up from what he was doing. “And we have to study, Ryley. We have to explore. I didn’t know it before, but I know it now. That creature has some relation to the benign enzyme the peepers carry, the one I’ve been medicating myself with. I’m sure of it, and I think that maybe if we find her, we’ll find the cure as well! Look over here, I know just where to start...” He was then interrupted by a violent coughing fit. “Oh... fuck. Look away”. He managed to spew before reaching for a small trash can under the table and vomiting on it.

“Gods you work too loud.” Ryley said, exasperatedly. “Much. Work too much.” They corrected their sign. “Don’t wanna slow down? After our talk?”

“Ryley, I finally have a reason to keep going, please, you have to let me work.” He begged. “Please, you’re the only one I have left. I’ve got no one else on Earth, all my family and closest friends died in the crash, there’s no one else on here besides you. I’m doing it for you too, do you understand that? You’re infected too, I have to find a way to help you. You’re… I’ve got no one else...”

Ryley sensed a panic attack growing. The little color the man had gotten back was vanishing from his face. They stroked his back, slowly, trying to calm him down.

Still, Bart just breathed in and continued talking. “I’m gonna need your help for this, of course. We need to go back to my… old house, if you can call it that. We have to study that vent, and then we have to find the others, that’s where the peepers are coming from. It’s what will lead us to the alien’s location, eventually. So now we…”

Ryley interrupted him by slapping their hand on the table, and shot Bart a serious look. They didn’t have all the words, but that expression said everything. Bart sighed.

“You. You, you have to go.” He said. “Yeah, of course, after all that’s why I need your help. You’re the one allowed to go to places. I can stay behind and help you from the radio.”

“You have to give yourself time” Ryley said. “And you not ready. I want you safe. Out there not safe.” Ryley tilted their head at his friend. “You don’t need to stop? I’ll get some fresh food?”

“I guess.” Bart stood up, leaning on the desk a bit. “I worked the whole morning, it’s starting to take it’s toll.” He admitted. “Sorry for snapping. I just. I don’t like being cooped up.”

“It’s not forever. Just rest now.” Ryley signed. Bart nodded and made his way back to his bed, as Ryley grabbed their helmet and went for the hatch to catch some fresh fish.

#atwr #atwr fic #and they were roommates #subnautica #ryley robinson #bart torgal

[atmilliways]

👻 Nathan!

Okay, so I started with this non-human prompt meme, picked up most of Part I of this from a random prompt that passed by on my dash somewhere to get me started, and drew some ideas for Part III from @spys-art-blog‘s thoughts about godklok stuff. It DOES include Nathan talking to a ghost. It’s also a little like that thing that happened in fourth season of Buffy the Vampire Slayer when suddenly Dawn is there, and always has been, and technically that’s new but she’s been retconned into everyone’s memories so no one questions it. 

~

I. Because One Day You May Be Called

It would forever baffle Charles as to how quickly things could go wrong. One minute he was driving along the familiar route between the office and home. The next, he was spinning out of control towards the concrete barrier at the end of the bridge, barely able to glimpse the truck that had decimated the right side of his car. In the short time it took for his hands to let go of the wheel and his car to reach the barrier, he’d managed to bang his head on something and gain a nice little cut along the side of his face. 

Then the car hit the barrier. The sudden stop made him imagine the entire world halting on its axis, his stomach lurching and his head spinning even faster now that he was no longer in motion with it. Groaning, he blindly reached out for some kind of surface, only then realizing his glasses had been flung from his face. The blurry interior of the car made him more disoriented, but he managed to locate the window and look up.

A dark shape was rushing towards him, too large to be a person. The truck, his mind supplied simply. The implications of what that rapidly approaching shape meant only clicked when it was a few feet away and he only had enough time to take a sharp breath in understanding.

II. To Meet The Mighty Gods

At first, it came as a shock when he regained consciousness. Okay, Charles thought, so I’m not dead. He felt as though he was floating, which he supposed meant he was safe in a hospital bed, wrapped in a soothing cocoon of pain medication, with medical attention only a call button press away. The second and far more lasting shock came when he opened his eyes. 

He actually was floating, cushioned by thin air about ten feet above the scene of the crash. What little he could see of the passenger car left little hope that the body inside was still intact, and yet, when he touched the numb skin of his cheek, there was red on his apparently solid fingertips. How could he bleed if he was already dead?

Everything was eerily silent. 

And he felt watched. The clusterfuck of snarled traffic rapidly lost his interest as the feeling intensified, as though eyes were boring into him from several different directions at once, pinning him in place. 

Charles whipped his head around, half expecting to see… what? There was nothing. Just a sweeping view of ocean, glittering and blue and deep. The freeway had been built atop steep cliffs, and from where he hovered it seemed that one impatient shrug of the earth was all it would take to tumble the entire ribbon of asphalt and cars into the churning water. Golds, oranges, and reds bled into everything from the setting sun, painting everything but the pale sliver of rising moon with brilliant light. There was no wind, at least where Charles was. 

He’d driven home this way hundreds of times. Thousands. Yet, as he hung in the air above his mortal remains, he couldn’t remember ever taking a single moment to appreciate the view. 

“It’s beautiful,” he whispered. 

IT IS. 

He hadn’t realized that he hadn’t been breathing before. Funny what the lack of breath catching in sudden terror could tell you. And had he been straining his eyes looking for whatever was watching him, or did the glints of reddish light catching on the ocean waves form the vague shape of a man? 

A man that seemed more real and more imaginary the longer he stared, far away and right there at the same time. Not a man — there was no way, it was too impossible. Whatever it was, it looked down at the wrecked vehicles below with an air of passive satisfaction. 

Then it turned it’s terrible gaze upon Charles with decidedly less passivity. Shadows fell across its face like long dark hair, or long strings of seaweed swaying in the current below the water’s surface, and that, Charles knew, was what had been watching him. 

It bared it’s shark teeth at him and asked, WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE? 

Charles opened his mouth, closed it, looked down at the rapidly drying blood on his fingers. “I, ah… I used to be someone,” he mumbled. “Now I’m dead.“ 

YOU ARE NOTHING. 

He found himself nodding. No family. No wife or kids, not even a girlfriend. Not even a pet. Riding a desk in a dead-end job that he’d had since graduating college with a degree in law that he’d never bothered to use, and was too apathetic to leave for anything better. There was no one to miss him, no way to claim that he’d made any sort of positive impression on the world before leaving it. Or even a negative one, for that matter. Nothing. 

“Yes,” he agreed quietly. 

WOULD YOU CHOSE TO BE MORE? 

Charles felt his heart leap at the suggestion, and that seemed to be answer enough. The apparition narrowed its glowing red eyes. It seemed pleased. 

SO BE IT. 

And suddenly there was wind, twisting and writhing around him like a bed of snakes, as though it had always been there but had been holding still, awaiting orders. The earth flew towards him and the sea rose up, the sun and moon grew huge in the sky, and Charles passed unto utter blackness as reality reknitted itself around him. 

III. Deep Within The Ocean

The ghost stood in the center of a cavernous office. Somewhere in the gloom above there were elaborate chandeliers, but most of the lightbulbs were broken and the only light of the setting sun came in weak streams between the boards nailed up over broken windows. It was deathly still, and the air tasted of ash and dust. 

He wasn’t sure what he was doing there, or how he knew he was a ghost. The longer he stood there the more he felt as though it was where he belonged. It was a nagging, annoying feeling, as though he had just been about to do something very important but forgotten what it was. Or… hadn’t been told yet?

A sudden crash behind him made him flinch, but just barely. 

“CHARLES,” someone roared. A man, very gravelly-voiced and very, very drunk. The ghost was distantly impressed that amidst all that stumbling he was still managing to keep his feet. “CHARLES, it’s me, NATHAN. Where… where the fuck…!” 

His dark green eyes fell on the ghost, who felt the impact as a full body jolt because he hadn’t expected to be seen. Apparently the man, Nathan, hadn’t exactly expected to see him either because he swayed to a stop. With one hand — the other still had a tight grip on a bottle of tequila — Nathan pushed long hair out of his face and squinted uncertainly. 

“Charles. Is that… You’re here?” Nathan looked up at the ceiling as though the broken chandeliers could offer some sort of explanation, then at his feet, then at his bottle, which he took a swig from. That seemed to strengthen his grasp on the situation. “I mean… You. Are here. Good.” He swayed. “I’ve got… There’s… fuckin’ problems.” 

“I see,” the ghost replied, and cleared his throat. “Please, have a seat.” The hand gesture toward the big dust felt perfectly natural, though the ghost hadn’t previously paid much mind to the furniture before that moment. So did walking around the dominating piece of furniture and taking a seat, ignoring, for the moment, that there was a dust cover on the large wingback chair and he sank into it slightly without so much as a crinkle or rustle of fabric. 

Nathan trailed after him. Both of the chairs in front of the desks were on their sides, as though the same impact of whatever had blown the now shuttered windows in had knocked them over as well. He gamely put his bottle down and spent a minute clumsily righting one, then dropped into it with a huff and squinted again. 

“What was I talking about?” 

The ghost folded his hands before him on the dusty wooden surface. “I believe you mentioned having problems.” 

Nathan’s dower expression brightened a fraction as he remembered. “Fuck, yeah…” Then his face fell. “It’s all fucked up. All the… money, and… You… We’re broke.” 

He retrieved his bottle and sipped from it, shoulders slumped and looking older than the ghost thought he should — not that the ghost knew what his age actually was. But there was a dawning familiarity building up in the back of his mind, like a favorite, nearly forgotten tune just in the edge of hearing. 

“It’s hard,” Nathan confided, slumping further towards the desk. “It’s really… hard without you. I don’t know how to do this shit. Press releases and financial… fuckin’… bullshit…” 

Yes, the ghost thought, I remember this. Did he, though? Or had the information just arrived his head? He couldn’t remember. Absently, he adjusted his glasses and rubbed his fingertips against the side of his face, tracing a scar that ran from cheekbone to jaw. 

It didn’t matter. There was a job to do, and he was the best man for it. 

“I’m sure we can sort this out,” Charles said firmly. “Walk me through it.” 

IV. And If You’re Not Prepared

Air slammed into his lungs, accompanied by the sting of pins and needles in… well, everything. 

Charles remembered reading once that many bodily functions — digestion, for example — were quite painful, but the human nervous system was wired to tell the conscious mind to ignore it. For a moment, he felt every cubic inch of his body, and could ignore none of it. 

When the feeling passed and the echoes of his hoarse screams died away, Charles tried to sit up and was gently pushed back down. 

“Be still,” a soothing, age-worn voice told him. “The Gods of the Klok have restored you, but at great cost. It will be some time before you are truly whole again.” 

Charles allowed himself to fall back into the soft bed, secretly relieved. “What happened,” he croaked. 

“They have chosen you to be their champion, and made it so that it has always been so,” the old man told him solemnly. 

He remembered the ocean and broken glass. 

“You are the Dead Man.” 

He remembered talking to something that looked like Nathan, and then remembering who Nathan was after the fact, because… because…

“In time, you will forget that it was any other way.” 

V. Your Soul Will Not Be Spared

Thousands of leagues away, in a dragon-shaped mansion hovering miles above sea level, Nathan Explosion woke with his cheek resting on a puddle of tequila-drool. He lifted his head and immediately regretted it. 

“Dood, wake up!” Pickles was shaking his shoulder. “Don’t know what you’re doin’ in’ere anyway, it’s still a disaster area in this wing…” 

“Wha…?” Nathan squeezed his eyes shut, feeling like they were about two sizes to large for his head, and tried to focus on where ‘in here’ was. 

He had been… What had he been doing? 

There had been drinking, obviously. And then he’d wandered around, pacing down up and down the halls until he’d arrived at their manager’s office. 

“I was. Uh. Talking to Charles about… money?” he guessed. As he said it, the memory solidified somewhat in his head. “Yeah. Money.” 

Pickles’ stopped shaking his arm and frowned. “Nat’n, that’s impossible. Ofdensen’s d… He hamburger timed. Remember?” 

“But I…” Nathan froze halfway towards wiping the gross spit off his face. He’d just gotten so used to Charles being there all those years that he’d stormed in blind drunk and… passed out and dreamed the whole thing, apparently, because the man was dead. They’d had a funeral pyre and everything; there was no way what he remembered could have actually happened. 

Unless it was a ghost, Nathan thought despondently. But what were the chances of that? 

While he was still mulling that over, Pickles sighed and shook his head. “Dood, ya really gotta lay off the tequila. Now c’mon, this place ain’t gonna remodel itself. I think I’ve almost got the hang of that circular saw thing…”

#metalocalypse #godklok #charles foster offdensen #nathan explosion #my fic #my fanfiction #my fanfic

[kiwisfics]

Assassin’s Creed Preference - How You Meet

A/N - Hey, here’s the deal. I’ve been more focused on Fallout writing for awhile, but I’ll definitely stop doing that and work on AC stuff. Meanwhile, these are preferences from my Quotev account (so, older than most of my stuff) I don’t think they’re too bad, but I haven’t read them for awhile so... sorry if they are. I love you all and thank you for following this blog despite my inactivity and laziness.

Altair Ibn La'Ahad (Assassin's Creed)

You ran down the dusty path, clouds of dust rising up from wherever your feet landed. You cried for help as a man clad in white robes pursued you from the rooftops. To everyone you passed, you appeared to be a crazy woman, as such, they paid you no mind, offering only a glance before returning to their work. You were simply trying to survive another day, but they couldn't see the threat-literally-looming over you.

This assassin had been after you for a little over a week. You hadn't the slightest idea why he seemed so intent on murdering you, but when an assassin is after you, you run, you don't stop to ask them why they want to kill you. Oh yes, might I just ask why you're trying to kill me? Maybe talk it out over some lunch? Yeah, no.

You had a sneaking suspicion this was about your guardian/s involvement with the group you knew as Templars. Hell if you know, it wasn't like you were involved with them. You had enough problems being the young adult you were after your guardian/s were killed by the very order they had worked for. You had never wanted to get involved with that mess, you dealt with the repercussions all throughout your childhood as it was. You weren't even sure how this assassin knew you existed, after all, your existence had been kept a secret from the Templars. Or, at least, you were told it was.

Fear began to course ever stronger through your veins as you hit a dead end. The assassin jumped down from the roof and landed in front of you, blocking any chance of escape.

"I swear, I don't know anything."

"Your guardians went to meetings. Where were they held?"

"They never told me." You paused, mind racing for a way to delay the inevitable. "What's your name?"

"Why?" He growled.

"I want to know the name of who kills me."

You didn't expect him to give his name, so you were more than a little surprised when he muttered, almost too quietly to hear, "Altair."

"Hey, you!" A commotion behind him caused him to become distracted. You instantly shot off. If you were going to die, you had no intention of letting this be the day you did.

Edward Kenway (Assassin's Creed)

The rhythm of your feet hitting the ground was the only sound that echoed in the alley that you ran down, but they were soon followed by the distinct sound of boots pounding against the ground. You were frantically trying to escape from a group of large, angry men who were chasing you down after you had stolen a jewel from them. Yet, even though danger was close behind you, a smile graced your features and your (E/C) eyes were bright.

You sharply rounded a corner, so focused on running you didn't notice the form in your path and you happened to ram into a body-a body that felt an awful lot like a wall. You quickly pushed yourself off the ground, breaths coming out heavy and panicked, though the smile still covered your face.

You quickly took in the appearance of the man in front of you. He was attractive. Very attractive. And, though you could only assume, he held the hardened appearance of a pirate.

"In a hurry?" His voice was laced with a Welsh accent, it penetrated your distracted mind and reminded you of the men who were surly right around the corner.

As you opened your mouth to reply the group rounded the corner, as you expected. You yelped and began to run again, looking over your shoulder and calling back to him. "My name is (Y/N)! Meet me at the dock later and I'll explain!" With that you looked in front of you and narrowly missed running into a pole.

You could hear his laughter slowly fade behind you.

Ezio Auditore da Firenze (Assassin's Creed)

(G/S) = Gaming System

You stared at the screen with a look of determination on your face. You had been playing this game all day and, clearly, didn't plan to stop anytime soon. There was a light tapping of rain against the roof of your house, but that didn't deter you. As you continued to play, the rain outside began to beat harder and harder against the roof, soon being joined by lightning and thunder. You were just about to quit the game when there was a large bang. The lights in your house flickered off, but your (G/S) lit up with a blue light.

The next thing you knew, you were surrounded by darkness.

When you blinked your eyes open, they were met with harsh light from the sun. Wait, when had you gotten outside? You pushed yourself into a sitting position. You were surrounded by people, dressed in old fashioned clothing. Where were you?

While you hadn't the slightest idea where you were, something about all this seemed very familiar in a strange way. As you looked around at all the people—who were busy observing your clothes, that appeared very odd to them—you noticed someone behind them. Well, really, more above than behind, but, either way, seeing him suddenly told you where you were.

"Assassin's Creed?" The question was mumbled lowly, so no one heard you. As the figure above disappeared you jumped up and ran off in the direction he'd went. "Wait! I need to-" you were cut off as you slammed straight into his chest and fell to the ground.

"Mia bella, are you alright?" He asked, holding out a hand.

"I'm…fine…" you panted out. "But…I need…to talk…to you."

Jacob Frye (Assassin's Creed)

You balanced on a rooftop, staring down at, what was soon to be, your reward for being patient. You had watched this specific person for so long that you knew their entire weekly routine. You were going to get your reward.

Just as you were about to jump down and knock the person to the ground when there was a sudden commotion sending almost everyone on the street running. You looked in the direction that everyone was running from. There was a dead body in the middle of the street. Well, crap.

That wasn't any of your business though, no, your business was in getting the money needed to buy your next meal. Since your target had ran off, you needed a new one. Since almost everyone had ran off, you didn't have nearly enough cover, but you still weren't going to leave without getting some kind of reward. There was a man and a woman still standing over the corpse, seeming to be in a deep conversation.

A smirk crossed your face as you made your way to the roof directly over where they were. You braced yourself, before jumping from the roof and ramming into the man, you jerked whatever was in his pocket out and ran off, feet going as quickly as possible.

He yelled an insult after you before you heard his feet begin to chase after you.

And, holy crap, was he fast.

You let out a squeak as you pushed yourself harder, worried what he would do if he caught you. as you rounded a corner, you tripped and he was instantly over you. You threw whatever was in your hand away hoping he would at least go to pick it up and give you time to run off. He didn't.

He leaned down, not much, but enough to send you into hysterics. A look of panic crossed his face.

"Calm down! I'm not going to hurt you!"

It took a few minutes of statements such as that, before you finally calmed down.

Well, that was one way to meet.

Ratonhnhake'ton (Assassin's Creed)

You were sitting outside of your secluded house, eyes searching the sky for shapes in the clouds. You had never cared much for people. People were so easily corruptible and you didn't want to be involved with all the death and pain that they caused, You would rather never talk to people again, but, unfortunately that wasn't really an option.

You were expecting another boring day with nothing to do, but when a large man came barreling out of the trees, you couldn't help the scream you let out as you jumped to your feet.

The man collapsed almost as soon as he emerged from the trees, confusing you, until you noticed that he was covered in blood.

You panicked, immediately running to make sure he hadn't died. To your relief, he was alive. "How am I supposed to get you inside my house, big guy?" After a moment, you sighed and leaned down enough to toss his arm over your shoulder. "You're going to owe me, stranger."

He didn't awake for a little over a day, when he did wake up, you happened to be changing the bandages you had placed around his abdomen. He shot up, pinning you to a wall. Despite the panic that welled up, you stayed calm. "Is that any way to thank the person who saved your life?"

He hesitantly let you go.

"What's your name?"

"Connor."

"(Y/N)." You sat in a chair in the corner of the room. "How'd you get into that shape anyway? And why did you have so many weapons on you?"

Well, this would be a long day.

#Assassin's Creed #Altair Ibn La'Ahad #altair ibn-la'ahad x reader #ezio auditore #ezio auditore x reader #edward kenway #edward kenway x reader #jacob frye #jacob frye x reader #connor kenway #connor kenway x reader #altair ibn-la'ahad fanfiction #ezio auditore fanfiction #edward kenway fanfiction #jacob frye fanfiction #connor kenway fanfiction #fanfiction #x reader #preferences #assassin's creed preferences

[our-smooty]

Take me to Church Chaper 3: Sleeping

Fandom: GorillazRating: Explicit Relationships: 2doc Tags: Car Accidents Angst Hurt/Comfort Drugs/Alcohol Implied/Referenced Suicide SuicideHealing Everything Hurts Summary: The band is back together, but things are… weird to say the least. But when a crisis arises, can they pull it all together and be a family again? Link to other Chapters on my Blog!

Murdoc’s phone was dead so they had to use 2D’s to call an Uber. They leaned against a wall a respectable distance away from the emergency department doors and smoked while waiting.

“It’s probably not a good idea to be smokin’ right after you got outta the hospital for OD’ing Muds…” 2D chastised, taking a long drag off his own fag.

“Sod off, I’m a doctor,” Murdoc shot back. 2D side-eyed him with a smirk.

“You already said that Muds.”

“Fuck. Off. I’m not in the mood 2D,” he snapped back. 2D flinched and took a few cautious steps away from the bassist.

“Sorry…” He really couldn’t get a read on Murdoc. He kept thinking about what Russ had said that maybe Murdoc had overdosed on purpose yesterday. But today he seemed like his normal, nasty self. 2D thought he was actually pretty good at reading people most of the time—he’d had a lot of practise— but Murdoc was usually a bit of a mystery.

Their Uber pulled up and both men stubbed their cigarettes out and climbed in. It wasn’t a long drive but since both of them were silent it felt like it. 2D fidgeted with whatever he could get his hands on, the buttons of his shirt, his shoelaces, the car door buttons until Murdoc finally snapped.

“Stop fidgeting! You’re driving me bloody crazy,” he shouted, making both 2D and the driver jump. He didn’t hit him though, and 2D noticed that the bassist seemed to be holding himself back.

“Sorry Muds, sorry,” he apologised. They were just rounding the corner and the Uber driver pulled up to Wobble Street and 2D quickly clambered out of the car to get away from Murdoc should he change his mind about the whole not hitting him thing. Except his fidgeting had unlaced his shoes and he tripped flat on his face trying to get out.

Murdoc was slower to get out but he still saw the tail end of 2D’s fall. The singer was tangled up in knots with his own limbs and usually, that’d get a good laugh out of him but this time it didn’t. The Uber driver sped off and left 2D in the dust to pick himself up.

“Get yourself together 2D,” Murdoc grumbled, passing the singer and walking up the steps. 2D flailed for another few seconds before figuring out his right from his left and managing to stand and followed him in.

The house still smelled faintly of gas. 2D could see the cereal bowls from he and Noodle’s breakfast still sitting by the sink. He felt a funny sinking feeling in his chest that he didn’t think had anything to do with the unwashed dishes on the kitchen table.

“Get out of the way Faceache.” Murdoc barged into him where he was idling in the kitchen doorway on his way to the fridge. The older man pulled out a 6-pack of beer and a bottle of vodka, bumping the fridge shut with his hip.

“A-are you gonna drink all that?” he asked nervously, Russ’s words echoing in the back of his head.

“Do pigs shit?” Murdoc fired back, already heading out of the kitchen and up the stairs. 2D started panicking. He’d already put one bandmate in danger today and now Murdoc was going to give himself alcohol poisoning after just getting out of the hospital; he didn’t know what to do.

“Uh… well… can I join ya?” he asked, surprising himself. Murdoc stopped dead and looked back at him like he’d lost his mind. The singer expected him to tell him to fuck off again but instead, he shrugged, bottles jostling dangerously.

“Suit yourself mate, but you better grab your own booze,” he said as he kept climbing the stairs. 2D starred for a bit before running up the stairs himself and bursting into his own room instead. Rifling through his own bedside drawer and pulled out when he was looking for, a baggie of weed he’d bought the other day and nearly forgotten about. Maybe if he got Murdoc to smoke some he’d fall asleep before he could drink too much.

Approaching Murdoc’s room 2D tried to calm himself down. He was just going to have a few drinks with his mate, maybe smoke a little, just like they used to back in the day. It’d been a hard day, they both needed to unwind a little, forget what’d happened just for a little while and get some sleep.

He knocked on Murdoc’s door frame before ambling into the dimly lit space. Unlike that morning the bedside light was on, making it possible to see where he was going, at least a little. Murdoc was propped up on the bed, one of the six-pack on the floor and another in his hand. In the other hand, he held a cigarette, the ash of which was falling all over the comforter, but Murdoc didn’t seem to care.

“H-hey Muds, I brought some weed,” he stuttered. That caught Murdoc’s attention and he set the beer down, reaching into the comforter and pulling out, as if by magic, a pack of rolling papers, from the dusty folds. He patted the bed and gestured for 2D to come sit.

“Ah, brilliant mate. Give it here.” Murdoc held out his hand as 2D sat down. 2D didn’t give him the weed.

Instead, he held out his hand for the papers. “Muds we both know you’re right shit at rolling a joint, let me do it,” he insisted. Murdoc sighed and tossed the pack at his head, giving a light chuckle and Stu’s stunned face. 2D smiled a little at the familiar exchange and grabbed the box, pulling out the papers and getting down to business.

“So…” He wasn’t really sure what they were supposed to talk about now. Murdoc reached for the bottle he’d set down and 2D felt the panic rise again. “So uh…  you OD’d.” 2D wanted to slap himself for being so stupid.

Murdoc snorted into his beer. “Uh, yeah, I guess mate. It happens sometimes, you know how it is?”

“I guess, like we all overdo it sometimes but… well the nurse said you were real bad.” This wasn’t the topic he’d meant for them to be talking about. He wanted to cheer the bassist up, get his mind off things, not drive him to drink more. The joint in his hands, perfectly packed and rolled, hung limply.

Murdoc didn’t say anything. Instead, he motioned for 2D to hand him the joint and lit it taking one long, drawn-out drag before handing it back. His face was blank, his stare focused entirely on the bottle in his hand. 2D took his own drag.

“It was just so scary you know, first Noodle and then you, and we didn’t know if either of you was gonna make it and—” He was rambling now, all those emotions he’d kept bottled up trying to be brave in the hospital and the Uber were coming out.

“If I-I had been bein’ more careful we’d probably all be sleepin’ or playin’ video g-games right now,” he cried, head in his hands, joint nearly falling out of his loose grip. Murdoc sighed and took it from him, finishing it off.

“Don’t beat yourself up D, it wasn’t your fault,” he ground out. Trying to stifle his sobs, 2D wiped his nose on his sleeve and pulled his long legs up underneath him, getting comfortable on the bed.

“Wadaya mean Muds? I’m the one who bumped into her and made her fall in front of that van,” 2D argued, off-put by the fact that Murdoc of all people seemed to be trying to comfort him.

“I mean,” Murdoc shifted uncomfortably, making eye contact with 2D’s collarbones, “I mean, I pushed you, didn't I? It’s my fault you bumped into her.” The beer was abandoned for few mouthfuls of vodka. “I couldn’t act like a fucking adult and I pushed you and now Noodle’s all busted up.”

2D watched, wide-eyed, as Murdoc continued to word-vomit. “I fuckin’ killed her 2D and I couldn’t handle that so, yeah, I came home and I took a whole bunch of pills and drank a whole lot of booze to forget. It was a stupid, one-time decision but...” Murdoc paused, voice shaking.

“It’s what I deserve for killin’ her.” More vodka. 2D watched the tremor of Murdoc’s hands, mirrored in his voice, slosh the alcohol around the bottle like a snowglobe. “I couldn’t face everyone after killin’ her a second time.”

“But she’s not dead Muds,” 2D said quietly, not entirely sure how to comfort his friend. Murdoc wasn’t big on physical contact, though he didn’t seem to mind it from 2D too much on occasion, so he took a risk an placed a hand on other’s knee.

“She could wake up and her brains all scrambled, she could wake up and not be able to play the guitar anymore.” It was more than Murdoc’s hands and voice that were shaking now. “What if she hates me.”

It was rare for Murdoc to share any personal details that weren’t complete bullshit. 2D had known him long enough to see him through a number of drunken breakdowns and drug-induced rages, but he’d never seen him so vulnerable and worried about someone other than himself.

“She won’t hate you, I mean, you built a cyborg of her and replaced her with it and she didn’t hate you so I don’t even think she can.” Comforting had never been his strong point but at least it was the truth.

Murdoc visibly flinched at 2D’s statement but didn’t shake off the comforting hand. “I’m a piece of shit,” he sighed. “Why do you all even keep me around?”

“‘Cause you’re family Muds,” 2D answered simply, and again it was the truth. “We’ve all done some right shit stuff, and well, at least this was an accident yeah?”

Murdoc didn’t answer, and 2D looked away to pretend he didn’t see the other man wiping his eyes. Luckily he still had the weed and papers in front of him and could busy his nervous hand rolling another joint. He finished it off and quickly took a hit, handing it to the now calmer Murdoc.

“Thanks,” the bassist grunted. He seemed to have calmed down a little, or maybe the weed and booze were starting to take effect.

“Don’t mention it,” 2D replied. They sat for a little while longer, Murdoc drinking and smoking and 2D joining in with the occasional sip of beer. He felt like maybe he should say something else. Russel would know what to say if he was here, or Noodle.

“Ey, 2D?” Murdoc rasped. 2D jumped but turned to face the bassist.

“Yeah Murdoc?” he answered. The other man was fiddling with the half-full vodka bottle, swishing the liquor around.

“D’you ever think about how things woulda been if I didn’t hit you with that car?” The older shifted uncomfortably. “Like we wouldn’ta had the band, Russel would still be workin’ at that record shop, and Noodle would be Satan knows where. Plastic Beach wouldn’t—”

2D leapt up startling Murdoc. “No, I don’t really think about it, that much. Things happened and they are how they are now. I think I’m gonna go to bed now, goodnight,” he said. Murdoc looked surprised by the sudden change in mood, but 2D didn’t care as he quickly made his way out of the room.

Closing Murdoc’s door behind him 2D felt a little better with the physical barrier between them. Why was everyone so intent on talking about Plastic Beach? Hadn’t he made it clear that he did not want to talk about it? Why couldn’t they all just leave well enough alone and let him be?

Any sense of the good mood he’d had from drinking with Murdoc was gone by now, and really he just wanted to go to bed and forget today ever even happened. Stumbling into his own bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes behind him, he slid into bed in nothing but his underwear.  Stu could feel a mild throbbing behind his eyes, the beginnings of a headache. Tiredly he groped around on his bedside table, finding a prescription bottle and pouring a generous number of pills into his hand, then into his mouth. It only took a few minutes for the pills to kick in, making Stu drowsy and easing him off to sleep.

Blood, blood everywhere and screaming tires. Noodle goes through the windshield of a Vauxhall Astra—no that wasn’t right—2D broken and bloody on the pavement. Noodle again, broken face and busted teeth inches from his own, screaming as blood poured from her mouth. 2D, his skeletal hands wrapped around Murdoc’s ankles, his legs useless and dragging behind him through the mud and dirt. Murdoc tried to fight the two of them off but they were dragging him, dragging him where he—

Murdoc woke up screaming. The comforter was wrapped tightly around his legs, the dream leaking into real life. He thrashed violently trying to get free, knocking the vodka bottle—empty— he’d fallen asleep cradling to the floor. It shattered loudly, and the sound warped in his half-asleep mind, echoing into the shriek of metal on bone. By sheer luck, his manic flailing freed both legs, and he immediately drew himself up to the wall with a distressed grunt.

Slowly, he became aware of the reality around him, that he had been dreaming, but that didn’t stop his heart from beating at an unnaturally fast pace. Pressing the heels of his hands hard into his eyes and drawing his knees in close, Murdoc tried to calm down.

“Just a dream, just a dream,” he muttered like one of 2D’s stupid mantras. He’d heard the idiot muttering to himself in the bathroom in the morning. It gave him something other than the panic to think about. It was slow going, but he felt his heartbeat calming down little by little and he was nearly ready to uncurl from his defensive position when a timid knock at the door sent his pulse skyrocketing again.

“Uh, h-hey Murdoc, you ok in there?” 2D’s obnoxious voice filtered through the door. “I heard some shoutin’ and I wanted to make sure you were alright.”

Murdoc didn’t answer, anxiety and adrenaline choking him almost violently. He was noticing now the way his head ached and stomach rolled, tell-tale signs of a handover, and the last thing he wanted was for 2D to barge in here. He didn’t know how he could stop him coming in without being able to speak, so instead, he focused on breathing normally and waited.

As expected, the door cracked open not long after and 2D, dressed only in his skivvies and a t-shirt, tip-toed in. Taking a moment to survey the scene—the broken bottle, the rumpled sheets, and Murdoc wedged into the corner of his matress—Murdoc knew 2D could only come to one conclusion.

“Bad nightmares mate?” he asked. Murdoc could only nod, teeth gritted with annoyance. 2D of course, didn’t really pick up on this and walked fully into the room, coming to sit on the end of the bed much like he had last night.

“Were they about Noodle, and uh, the accident?” Ever an idiot, 2D kept pushing. Murdoc rolled his eyes and nodded again. He could see Stu wavering between leaving and staying to try his hand at comforting again. Murdoc hoped he’d leave so he could drink this hangout back into submission and maybe pass out for the rest of the day.

“I didn’t sleep so good either.” Murdoc didn’t give a shit. He wanted 2D to leave right now,  and the chokehold on his voice was finally slackening enough for him to say something when 2D surprised him by bursting into tears. Big ugly sobs tore through the skinny man, and Murdoc shifted uncomfortably. Stu was saying something muddled by sobbing, from what Murdoc could understand he was apologising for something or other. Satan knew what.

Ignoring his own discomfort Murdoc shuffled down the bed to sit beside 2D, leaving a few inches of space between them. A few days ago he would have shoved the man out the door, maybe thrown in a few slaps for good measure. But since the accident something had changed in Murdoc, some tiny piece of his psyche had twisted and the thought of hurting another member of his family made him feel physically ill. Or maybe that was the vodka, it was hard to tell.

“2D…” What was he supposed to say? Sorry I pushed one of your family members in front of a moving car, now can you leave me alone please?  That didn’t feel quite right. Your crying is annoying and unproductive, get the fuck out of my room before I lose my patience with you? Even worse. What do you want me to do here, your crying and carrying on is making me feel things I don’t like?

Well, that was worse than all of them together.

He was saved from having to actually say anything embarrassing by 2D, who took advantage of Murdoc’s close proximity by throwing his arms around the bassist and continuing to cry into his shoulder.

Stunned for a few seconds, Murdoc sat motionless as 2D soaked his t-shirt with tears. The other man was warm, really really warm, and smelled sweaty and a little like the hospital. Murdoc tried to remember when the last time he’d hugged someone was. Or the last time he’d even been in close contact with someone like this. He’d gone on a bit of a binge once he’d gotten free after being kidnapped, birds and booze and enough speed to make any man happy for the rest of his life. But after that well, it had been quite a while since he’d had a good roll in the hay, or even really, a friendly hug.

So when 2D, still crying, still getting snot all over his collar, tightened his hold around Murdoc’s shoulders he couldn’t help but slowly wrap his own arms around the other man and lean in. He could fool himself into thinking that he was just comforting Stu, just trying to get the dullard to stop crying so he’d leave. But really 2D’s warmth and the pressure of his arms around Murdoc’s neck was doing more to calm him down from the nightmare than any breathing exercise. It had been a bad few days, maybe just this once he could let himself have this, and not feel too shitty.

Gradually 2D calmed down as well, but he didn’t let go. He had shuffled closer, his head tucked underneath Murdoc’s chin. The bassist had settled back against the wall, arms wrapped loosely around his mate. Voices in the back of his head were screaming at him to push Stu off, that he didn’t deserve any comfort, but Murdoc had always been greedy. He’d always take when he could get, and a little bit more if he could get away with it.

A snore interrupted his self-hatred. 2D really hadn’t been kidding about not sleeping well, the poor sod had nodded off on Murdoc’s chest. The Murdoc of a few days ago would have kicked him off just to see him upset, but as it was now he was tired and 2D was quite comfortable for such a boney bastard. Getting a few more minutes of shut-eye didn’t sound too bad, so he leaned his head back against the wall and shut his eyes, letting 2D’s soft snoring lull him into a light sleep.

#2doc #nicca #tw violence #tw car accident #tw suicide

[goblinfoody]

1-170 except 1s u dont want 2 do u gay bastard

You Fucker

1: How tall or short do you wish you were? like anywhere above 5′5 cause im so short rn id be happy w anything

2: What’s your dream pet? (Real or not) a big ass iguana

3: Do you have a favorite clothing style? comfy

4: What was your favorite video game growing up? either fable 3, sphinx and the cursed mummy, or cod black ops lmfao

10: Are you allergic to anything? cats dogs etc

11: What’s your sexuality? bi baby

12: Do you prefer tea, coffee, or cocoa? tea all day every day

13: Are you a cat or dog person? i cant pick thats way too hard theyre both great

14: Would you rather be a vampire, elf, or merperson? ELF

16: How tall are you? 5′3

20: Do you like space or the ocean more? they are both terrifying and cool and pretty so i cant pick

28: Do you think global warming is real? uh yeah

29: Do you believe in reincarnation? in a way i do

30: Favorite movie? either the worlds end, night of the living dead, the evil dead, the hobbit films, or howls moving castle

31: Do you get scared easily? sort of but also not really

32: How many pets have you own in your lifetime? lots i dont even want to count

33: Blog rate? [You’ll rate the blog of the one who’s asking.] -10000

34: What is a color that calms you? dusty purples or oranges

36: Where were you born? the forests of the pnw, walked straight out of bifoots ass

37: What is your eye color? blue

39: Do you believe in horoscopes and zodiacs? sometimes

40: Hugs or kisses? def dig hugs

41: Who is someone you would like to see/visit right now? me in 30 years

42: Who is someone you love deeply? the moon

43: Any piercings you want? maybe like a nose one some day

44: Do you like tattoos and piercings? ohohohoho yes

46: Talk about your crush, if you have one! dont

48: A sound you really love? when theres music playing but its low enough u dont understand or can really percieve anything but its still loud enough that its still filling space

49: Can you do a backflip? hell no

50: Can you do the splits? “

51: Favorite actor and/or actress? simon pegg

56: Something that calms you down? tea tea tea tea tea tea tea tea tea

58: What does your URL mean? i was reading rat queens and i think violet said “goblin foodies” and i just dug it

60: Do you believe in evolution? yes

63: Favorite kind of person: just gotta be nice and open minded

64: Favorite animal(s): lizards and bats and opossums

66: Favorite emoticon:i like the one thats puckering up for a smooch

69: What is your star sign? sag baby

70: Can your dog roll over on command, if you have a dog? nope but she can go in a circle sometimes

71: What outfit out of all your clothes do you like to wear the most? i like my nasty old ages sweats, my blondie concert shirt, and my obnoxiously orange hoodie

72: Post a selfie or two? nico if u do this then i will

73: Do you have platform shoes? no

74: What is one random but interesting fact about yourself? ive owned a lion fish and he was a prick

75: Can you do a front flip? no

76: Do you like birds? yes!

77: Do you like to swim? no

78: Is swimming or ice skating more fun to you? prolly swimming

81: Piercings you have? ears

82: Something you really enjoy doing: reading

83: Favorite person to talk to: my dogs

86: Can you run a mile within ten minutes? honestly probably not lmfao but the last time i ran i had about an 8 minute mile

87: Do your socks always match? never EVER

91: If a flower could aesthetically represent you, what kind would it be? like a crusty ass dried purple one

93: How many cups of coffee can you drink in one day? none cause coffees GROSS (coffee flavored stuff is good tho)

94: Would you rather be able to fly or read minds? read minds

96: Winter or summer? winter all the way fuck the sun

101: Favorite type of shoes: converse are nice

102: Where do you live? pnw

103: Are you a vegetarian or vegan? If so, why? veggie bc i think its shitty to kill animals like they didnt do anything wrong lets let em live their lives

104: What is your favorite mineral or gem? amethysts r pretty

105: Do you drink milk? no i think its gross

106: Do you like bugs? depends on the bug

107: Do you like spiders? if its far away from me then yes i really really do

108: Something you get paranoid about? literally everything

110: Nosiest question you have ever been asked? “why dont you feel good?”

111: A question you hate being asked? “how are you?”

112: Ever been bitten by a spider? nope thank god

113: Do you like the sound of waves at the beach? oh hell yeah 

114: Do you prefer cloudy or sunny days? cloudy

115: Someone you’d like to kiss or cuddle right now: my dog but she just wants to fight rn

116: Favorite cloud type: the cloudy kind

117: What color do you wish the sky was? orange or purple or pink

118: Do you have freckles? not many but i do have a straight line of 4 going down my right arm

137: Do you believe in karma? i really really do

139: What nicknames do you have/have had? nate, nater, nathaniel

154: Do you like to kiss others’ foreheads or hands for platonic reasons? yeah man i just like smoochin

155: Do you like to play with others’ hair? mhm it feels nice

158: Biggest lie you have ever told: one time when i told my dad i was going to sleep and got really high by myself

164: Do you have long or short hair? its right in the middle and its the WORST

165: Longest your hair has ever been: i think like down to my titties

167: Do you really care how the universe and world was created? helll no

168: Do you like to wear makeup? never really worn makeup

169: Can you stand on your hands or head for more than thirty seconds? honestly i prolly couldnt even do 30

170: Did you answer the questions you were asked truthfully?  i think

#i love u #nico #asks #natetxt

[primaryideasuk]

Now Is the Time for Buying Faux Plants

If there’s one thing I’ve learned about myself over the years of owning the UDH, it’s that I can kill a lot of plants.

And even though I can keep a few alive, like around the sink in the kitchen, buying some faux ones for certain parts of the house is best!

Legalese*: This post contains affiliate links, which helps to support this site. If you’re at all curious why these disclaimers are being seen so much on blogs lately (and near the top of content instead of the bottom), scroll to the bottom of the post for details. If not, continue reading and carry on! <3

I’ve realized that some spaces in my house, I just forget to water. I still like green things, though, so I compulsively buy plants, even when I know their potential fate (my trash can is nice and all, just not a spot I hope for plants to end up)…

…and then they die from neglect, and then I buy replacements, vowing to do better this time…

And then I forget again. On and on the cycle goes… until I realized I should just buy some faux plants for the areas that I forget. As long as I can find some realistic-enough-looking ones, I can still have greenery in tough areas that might not otherwise tolerate my watering forgetfulness (or lack of enough natural light… this house can be a little dark sometimes!). Through a little trial and error, I’ve picked up a few tips:

The best places to find them

The best times to find them (since seasonality can play a role on selection)

Ways to make them look more realistic

Since I just had a “Homegoods haul” and found a bunch of new ones to add to the house, I figured now was as good of a time as any to cover some of these in more detail.

Where to find good deals on realistic faux plants

I first started out by buying a few to replace the plant graveyard on the laundry room’s back shelf. The room doesn’t get much natural light from this small, hexagonal window, so the only things that still managed to stay alive during my makeover project this winter were things like aloe and other succulents (the ones I put directly in front of the window and forgot to water, pretty much).

During the holidays, local stores didn’t have much to offer, and as many of you know, finding faux plants that look even a little bit real can be kind of a crap-shoot if you buy online, so finding realistic photos of the product were key. I found that the best “real” photos I could find were from a few Etsy shops, which I’ve now favorited so I can go back for more when I’m decorating future rooms (for instance, two of my bathrooms are windowless, so I’m just going to go with faux in there).

Good Etsy retailers with faux plants: VividPetal, SimplySierraFloral (be sure to check their clearance), dirtcouture, LemonLeafMarket (for finished arrangements), HeavenlyHomesFlowers

Search keywords: faux ___ (plant name), real touch, realistic faux

You can also check my curated Etsy list here: f a u x p l a n t s

I found through online reviews that West Elm had a good faux trailing succulent, so I picked that up for the side shelf (and maybe for bathroom placement when that makeover is completed). I will say, though, not all of their plants are consistent in quality (so be sure to read reviews whenever possible!).

What to look for

In nature, plants tend to have imperfections. So, in order to find a good fake, you need to look for the same perfectly-imperfect elements:

not too perfect — variation in color, size, length (especially when buying faux stems that you’ll later create your own arrangement with)

lack of glossy shine — a great deal of plants do not have waxy leaves, or leaves that are sort of waxy and sort of not, and this one is probably my #1 complaint about stylized photos; a glossy look on plants that you know aren’t naturally that shiny is a dead giveaway that the plant is made of plastic, and this sheen can easily be Photoshopped out of catalogue-type product listings. So, I look for imperfections and have found that “dusty” plants or ones known to have super-waxy leaves (basically, one end of the spectrum or the other) look best. In nature, even the waxy-leaf varieties don’t typically look like they were covered in poly!

plant types — I’ve found that the following plant varieties often look pretty good when faux: fiddle leaf, rubber, boxwood, snake plants, eucalyptus, succulents & cactus (of all kinds – sedum, aloe, etc.), ferns, spider, Dusty Miller, Lamb’s Ear

“real touch”, “nearly natural“, or “UV protected” product descriptions — granted, it’s not always the case, but these descriptions yield more realistic-looking results when I shop online; they tend to be better quality, have better ratings, and are less plastic-smelling, too.

greenery vs. flowers — I find that flowers are harder to look real than bunches of greenery. To each their own, but I’d rather buy an inexpensive flower bouquet and switch those out while having greenery as a staple.

DIY-friendly — sometimes it’s not about the plant that makes it look fake; it’s what it’s sitting in, or how smushed together the leaves are, or other details that can be changed with just a little tweaking (more on that below). Make sure you can bend/twist the stems around or break the item down with a few gentle tugs (don’t dismantle it in the store… I’m just saying look at the base, see what’s attaching it, etc. to know if you can later break it down!)

More Faux Plants I Like

Turn on your JavaScript to view content

Best times to buy faux plants (or find the most selection)

Spring (aka, right now), or just as winter is drawing to a close, seems to be the best time for the most selection in retail stores. A lot of what you see in some of these photos came from a recent trip to Homegoods and TJMaxx, though I’ve also found that Target and West Elm are good when things start to go on clearance or have a big sale.

Other projects: DIY Dog Bowl Stand – Counter Bar in Breakfast Nook

What about dried plants/stems?

It’s a personal preference, but I don’t like dried plants or stems as much. I find that they always look a little dead and I prefer realistic faux with more color. I also hate dusting dried plants because they sometimes break apart (and I am not a gentle enough duster, it seems).

DIY for a better faux

I find return trips to be an avoidable hassle. If you find that you’ve ordered something that is too shiny or looks too unrealistic, you can often DIY a fix!

If the item is too shiny — spray a matte sealer on the leaves to tone down the sheen; if you don’t get every single nook and cranny, that’s ok! The lack of consistency in the leaves will actually help to make it look more real.

Rearrange — I tend to look for good deals on an entire sleeve of faux stems (like the box of faux Lamb’s Ear in the pictures above/below). Usually, stems are only stuck in place with the end of the stem in a floral block (or a little hot glue), so they can be yanked out and rearranged with ease! You can also break the original arrangement down completely to individual stems and come up with entirely separate groupings, then toss/donate/repurpose the decorative box they came in. The only reason why I might do this instead of buying a bunch of stems in bulk is because the arranged ones at discount stores (like Homegoods) can sometimes be cheaper than buying 20 stems from a retailer.

Repot — the problem might not be the plant at all, but what it’s sitting in. Young House Love recently found a great faux fiddle leaf fig at Target that looks pretty fake at first, but by repotting and rearranging the individual leaves, it looks believable enough to keep. More often than not, the problem is that the pot is not in proportion to the plant’s size, which makes the whole thing look dinky and emphasizes its flaws.

Put them next to real plants — intermixing faux and real (like I do in my laundry room) makes the fake ones look more like they belong… just be sure not to put the real version and fake version of the same plant next to each other.

Surround them with other natural elements or warm metals — wood, straw, and brass/copper can add the earthiness vibe that real plants put off, so repotting to a planter that has one of these elements will help a fake look more realistic. You can also add dried moss or rock to the potted area to hide any visible floral styrofoam.

Do you have a favorite go-to faux plant that you like? Or any of your own tips to share?

  *P.S. You guys have probably been seeing me post more disclosures of “affiliate links” lately, and the gist is that the FTC has been asking bloggers to make more and more explicit mentions in posts these days. The blog world has changed a LOT in recent years, and the FTC just wants any “material relationship” to be clear, regardless if the post is expressly paid for/in conjunction with a brand or not — anything where I might earn ad money, commission, etc. needs to be disclosed in the post and BEFORE I start linking to stuff I’m recommending (which in the past, bloggers just pretty much just linked to stuff they recommended and usually with a disclosure at the bottom, but the rules have been changing over time). So, I don’t mean for it to be annoying or to repeat myself AT ALL, but I also want to be as much on the up-and-up with doing things “the right way” for everyone involved — especially if there are new guidelines for doing so, and if it’s more specific on where I have to place such language and whatnot! But, as always, I would never recommend something I wasn’t personally interested in recommending, or stuff I’ve purchased myself, or a brand that I really like, etc. I’m not much of a rule-breaker by nature, so whenever you see me saying “hey, there are affiliate links” in a post, this is why! I know not all of you guys know the behind-the-scenes rules with blogs in general or how that world changes day to day, so if you’ve been seeing this on the blogs you love to read, I just thought I’d let you know why you’re seeing it more!

The post Now Is the Time for Buying Faux Plants appeared first on The Ugly Duckling House.

Website // Subscribe // Advertise // Twitter // Facebook // Google+

via Primary Ideas http://ift.tt/2nBYDeI

#IFTTT #Primary Ideas

[sherlocklexa]

Now Is the Time for Buying Faux Plants

If there’s one thing I’ve learned about myself over the years of owning the UDH, it’s that I can kill a lot of plants.

And even though I can keep a few alive, like around the sink in the kitchen, buying some faux ones for certain parts of the house is best!

Legalese*: This post contains affiliate links, which helps to support this site. If you’re at all curious why these disclaimers are being seen so much on blogs lately (and near the top of content instead of the bottom), scroll to the bottom of the post for details. If not, continue reading and carry on! <3

I’ve realized that some spaces in my house, I just forget to water. I still like green things, though, so I compulsively buy plants, even when I know their potential fate (my trash can is nice and all, just not a spot I hope for plants to end up)…

…and then they die from neglect, and then I buy replacements, vowing to do better this time…

And then I forget again. On and on the cycle goes… until I realized I should just buy some faux plants for the areas that I forget. As long as I can find some realistic-enough-looking ones, I can still have greenery in tough areas that might not otherwise tolerate my watering forgetfulness (or lack of enough natural light… this house can be a little dark sometimes!). Through a little trial and error, I’ve picked up a few tips:

The best places to find them

The best times to find them (since seasonality can play a role on selection)

Ways to make them look more realistic

Since I just had a “Homegoods haul” and found a bunch of new ones to add to the house, I figured now was as good of a time as any to cover some of these in more detail.

Where to find good deals on realistic faux plants

I first started out by buying a few to replace the plant graveyard on the laundry room’s back shelf. The room doesn’t get much natural light from this small, hexagonal window, so the only things that still managed to stay alive during my makeover project this winter were things like aloe and other succulents (the ones I put directly in front of the window and forgot to water, pretty much).

During the holidays, local stores didn’t have much to offer, and as many of you know, finding faux plants that look even a little bit real can be kind of a crap-shoot if you buy online, so finding realistic photos of the product were key. I found that the best “real” photos I could find were from a few Etsy shops, which I’ve now favorited so I can go back for more when I’m decorating future rooms (for instance, two of my bathrooms are windowless, so I’m just going to go with faux in there).

Good Etsy retailers with faux plants: VividPetal, SimplySierraFloral (be sure to check their clearance), dirtcouture, LemonLeafMarket (for finished arrangements), HeavenlyHomesFlowers

Search keywords: faux ___ (plant name), real touch, realistic faux

You can also check my curated Etsy list here: f a u x p l a n t s

I found through online reviews that West Elm had a good faux trailing succulent, so I picked that up for the side shelf (and maybe for bathroom placement when that makeover is completed). I will say, though, not all of their plants are consistent in quality (so be sure to read reviews whenever possible!).

What to look for

In nature, plants tend to have imperfections. So, in order to find a good fake, you need to look for the same perfectly-imperfect elements:

not too perfect — variation in color, size, length (especially when buying faux stems that you’ll later create your own arrangement with)

lack of glossy shine — a great deal of plants do not have waxy leaves, or leaves that are sort of waxy and sort of not, and this one is probably my #1 complaint about stylized photos; a glossy look on plants that you know aren’t naturally that shiny is a dead giveaway that the plant is made of plastic, and this sheen can easily be Photoshopped out of catalogue-type product listings. So, I look for imperfections and have found that “dusty” plants or ones known to have super-waxy leaves (basically, one end of the spectrum or the other) look best. In nature, even the waxy-leaf varieties don’t typically look like they were covered in poly!

plant types — I’ve found that the following plant varieties often look pretty good when faux: fiddle leaf, rubber, boxwood, snake plants, eucalyptus, succulents & cactus (of all kinds – sedum, aloe, etc.), ferns, spider, Dusty Miller, Lamb’s Ear

“real touch”, “nearly natural“, or “UV protected” product descriptions — granted, it’s not always the case, but these descriptions yield more realistic-looking results when I shop online; they tend to be better quality, have better ratings, and are less plastic-smelling, too.

greenery vs. flowers — I find that flowers are harder to look real than bunches of greenery. To each their own, but I’d rather buy an inexpensive flower bouquet and switch those out while having greenery as a staple.

DIY-friendly — sometimes it’s not about the plant that makes it look fake; it’s what it’s sitting in, or how smushed together the leaves are, or other details that can be changed with just a little tweaking (more on that below). Make sure you can bend/twist the stems around or break the item down with a few gentle tugs (don’t dismantle it in the store… I’m just saying look at the base, see what’s attaching it, etc. to know if you can later break it down!)

More Faux Plants I Like

Turn on your JavaScript to view content

Best times to buy faux plants (or find the most selection)

Spring (aka, right now), or just as winter is drawing to a close, seems to be the best time for the most selection in retail stores. A lot of what you see in some of these photos came from a recent trip to Homegoods and TJMaxx, though I’ve also found that Target and West Elm are good when things start to go on clearance or have a big sale.

Other projects: DIY Dog Bowl Stand – Counter Bar in Breakfast Nook

What about dried plants/stems?

It’s a personal preference, but I don’t like dried plants or stems as much. I find that they always look a little dead and I prefer realistic faux with more color. I also hate dusting dried plants because they sometimes break apart (and I am not a gentle enough duster, it seems).

DIY for a better faux

I find return trips to be an avoidable hassle. If you find that you’ve ordered something that is too shiny or looks too unrealistic, you can often DIY a fix!

If the item is too shiny — spray a matte sealer on the leaves to tone down the sheen; if you don’t get every single nook and cranny, that’s ok! The lack of consistency in the leaves will actually help to make it look more real.

Rearrange — I tend to look for good deals on an entire sleeve of faux stems (like the box of faux Lamb’s Ear in the pictures above/below). Usually, stems are only stuck in place with the end of the stem in a floral block (or a little hot glue), so they can be yanked out and rearranged with ease! You can also break the original arrangement down completely to individual stems and come up with entirely separate groupings, then toss/donate/repurpose the decorative box they came in. The only reason why I might do this instead of buying a bunch of stems in bulk is because the arranged ones at discount stores (like Homegoods) can sometimes be cheaper than buying 20 stems from a retailer.

Repot — the problem might not be the plant at all, but what it’s sitting in. Young House Love recently found a great faux fiddle leaf fig at Target that looks pretty fake at first, but by repotting and rearranging the individual leaves, it looks believable enough to keep. More often than not, the problem is that the pot is not in proportion to the plant’s size, which makes the whole thing look dinky and emphasizes its flaws.

Put them next to real plants — intermixing faux and real (like I do in my laundry room) makes the fake ones look more like they belong… just be sure not to put the real version and fake version of the same plant next to each other.

Surround them with other natural elements or warm metals — wood, straw, and brass/copper can add the earthiness vibe that real plants put off, so repotting to a planter that has one of these elements will help a fake look more realistic. You can also add dried moss or rock to the potted area to hide any visible floral styrofoam.

Do you have a favorite go-to faux plant that you like? Or any of your own tips to share?

  *P.S. You guys have probably been seeing me post more disclosures of “affiliate links” lately, and the gist is that the FTC has been asking bloggers to make more and more explicit mentions in posts these days. The blog world has changed a LOT in recent years, and the FTC just wants any “material relationship” to be clear, regardless if the post is expressly paid for/in conjunction with a brand or not — anything where I might earn ad money, commission, etc. needs to be disclosed in the post and BEFORE I start linking to stuff I’m recommending (which in the past, bloggers just pretty much just linked to stuff they recommended and usually with a disclosure at the bottom, but the rules have been changing over time). So, I don’t mean for it to be annoying or to repeat myself AT ALL, but I also want to be as much on the up-and-up with doing things “the right way” for everyone involved — especially if there are new guidelines for doing so, and if it’s more specific on where I have to place such language and whatnot! But, as always, I would never recommend something I wasn’t personally interested in recommending, or stuff I’ve purchased myself, or a brand that I really like, etc. I’m not much of a rule-breaker by nature, so whenever you see me saying “hey, there are affiliate links” in a post, this is why! I know not all of you guys know the behind-the-scenes rules with blogs in general or how that world changes day to day, so if you’ve been seeing this on the blogs you love to read, I just thought I’d let you know why you’re seeing it more!

The post Now Is the Time for Buying Faux Plants appeared first on The Ugly Duckling House.

Website // Subscribe // Advertise // Twitter // Facebook // Google+

from car2 http://ift.tt/2nBYDeI via as shown a lot

#car2

[chocdono]

Now Is the Time for Buying Faux Plants

If there’s one thing I’ve learned about myself over the years of owning the UDH, it’s that I can kill a lot of plants.

And even though I can keep a few alive, like around the sink in the kitchen, buying some faux ones for certain parts of the house is best!

Legalese*: This post contains affiliate links, which helps to support this site. If you’re at all curious why these disclaimers are being seen so much on blogs lately (and near the top of content instead of the bottom), scroll to the bottom of the post for details. If not, continue reading and carry on! <3

I’ve realized that some spaces in my house, I just forget to water. I still like green things, though, so I compulsively buy plants, even when I know their potential fate (my trash can is nice and all, just not a spot I hope for plants to end up)…

…and then they die from neglect, and then I buy replacements, vowing to do better this time…

And then I forget again. On and on the cycle goes… until I realized I should just buy some faux plants for the areas that I forget. As long as I can find some realistic-enough-looking ones, I can still have greenery in tough areas that might not otherwise tolerate my watering forgetfulness (or lack of enough natural light… this house can be a little dark sometimes!). Through a little trial and error, I’ve picked up a few tips:

The best places to find them

The best times to find them (since seasonality can play a role on selection)

Ways to make them look more realistic

Since I just had a “Homegoods haul” and found a bunch of new ones to add to the house, I figured now was as good of a time as any to cover some of these in more detail.

Where to find good deals on realistic faux plants

I first started out by buying a few to replace the plant graveyard on the laundry room’s back shelf. The room doesn’t get much natural light from this small, hexagonal window, so the only things that still managed to stay alive during my makeover project this winter were things like aloe and other succulents (the ones I put directly in front of the window and forgot to water, pretty much).

During the holidays, local stores didn’t have much to offer, and as many of you know, finding faux plants that look even a little bit real can be kind of a crap-shoot if you buy online, so finding realistic photos of the product were key. I found that the best “real” photos I could find were from a few Etsy shops, which I’ve now favorited so I can go back for more when I’m decorating future rooms (for instance, two of my bathrooms are windowless, so I’m just going to go with faux in there).

Good Etsy retailers with faux plants: VividPetal, SimplySierraFloral (be sure to check their clearance), dirtcouture, LemonLeafMarket (for finished arrangements), HeavenlyHomesFlowers

Search keywords: faux ___ (plant name), real touch, realistic faux

You can also check my curated Etsy list here: f a u x p l a n t s

I found through online reviews that West Elm had a good faux trailing succulent, so I picked that up for the side shelf (and maybe for bathroom placement when that makeover is completed). I will say, though, not all of their plants are consistent in quality (so be sure to read reviews whenever possible!).

What to look for

In nature, plants tend to have imperfections. So, in order to find a good fake, you need to look for the same perfectly-imperfect elements:

not too perfect — variation in color, size, length (especially when buying faux stems that you’ll later create your own arrangement with)

lack of glossy shine — a great deal of plants do not have waxy leaves, or leaves that are sort of waxy and sort of not, and this one is probably my #1 complaint about stylized photos; a glossy look on plants that you know aren’t naturally that shiny is a dead giveaway that the plant is made of plastic, and this sheen can easily be Photoshopped out of catalogue-type product listings. So, I look for imperfections and have found that “dusty” plants or ones known to have super-waxy leaves (basically, one end of the spectrum or the other) look best. In nature, even the waxy-leaf varieties don’t typically look like they were covered in poly!

plant types — I’ve found that the following plant varieties often look pretty good when faux: fiddle leaf, rubber, boxwood, snake plants, eucalyptus, succulents & cactus (of all kinds – sedum, aloe, etc.), ferns, spider, Dusty Miller, Lamb’s Ear

“real touch”, “nearly natural“, or “UV protected” product descriptions — granted, it’s not always the case, but these descriptions yield more realistic-looking results when I shop online; they tend to be better quality, have better ratings, and are less plastic-smelling, too.

greenery vs. flowers — I find that flowers are harder to look real than bunches of greenery. To each their own, but I’d rather buy an inexpensive flower bouquet and switch those out while having greenery as a staple.

DIY-friendly — sometimes it’s not about the plant that makes it look fake; it’s what it’s sitting in, or how smushed together the leaves are, or other details that can be changed with just a little tweaking (more on that below). Make sure you can bend/twist the stems around or break the item down with a few gentle tugs (don’t dismantle it in the store… I’m just saying look at the base, see what’s attaching it, etc. to know if you can later break it down!)

More Faux Plants I Like

Turn on your JavaScript to view content

Best times to buy faux plants (or find the most selection)

Spring (aka, right now), or just as winter is drawing to a close, seems to be the best time for the most selection in retail stores. A lot of what you see in some of these photos came from a recent trip to Homegoods and TJMaxx, though I’ve also found that Target and West Elm are good when things start to go on clearance or have a big sale.

Other projects: DIY Dog Bowl Stand – Counter Bar in Breakfast Nook

What about dried plants/stems?

It’s a personal preference, but I don’t like dried plants or stems as much. I find that they always look a little dead and I prefer realistic faux with more color. I also hate dusting dried plants because they sometimes break apart (and I am not a gentle enough duster, it seems).

DIY for a better faux

I find return trips to be an avoidable hassle. If you find that you’ve ordered something that is too shiny or looks too unrealistic, you can often DIY a fix!

If the item is too shiny — spray a matte sealer on the leaves to tone down the sheen; if you don’t get every single nook and cranny, that’s ok! The lack of consistency in the leaves will actually help to make it look more real.

Rearrange — I tend to look for good deals on an entire sleeve of faux stems (like the box of faux Lamb’s Ear in the pictures above/below). Usually, stems are only stuck in place with the end of the stem in a floral block (or a little hot glue), so they can be yanked out and rearranged with ease! You can also break the original arrangement down completely to individual stems and come up with entirely separate groupings, then toss/donate/repurpose the decorative box they came in. The only reason why I might do this instead of buying a bunch of stems in bulk is because the arranged ones at discount stores (like Homegoods) can sometimes be cheaper than buying 20 stems from a retailer.

Repot — the problem might not be the plant at all, but what it’s sitting in. Young House Love recently found a great faux fiddle leaf fig at Target that looks pretty fake at first, but by repotting and rearranging the individual leaves, it looks believable enough to keep. More often than not, the problem is that the pot is not in proportion to the plant’s size, which makes the whole thing look dinky and emphasizes its flaws.

Put them next to real plants — intermixing faux and real (like I do in my laundry room) makes the fake ones look more like they belong… just be sure not to put the real version and fake version of the same plant next to each other.

Surround them with other natural elements or warm metals — wood, straw, and brass/copper can add the earthiness vibe that real plants put off, so repotting to a planter that has one of these elements will help a fake look more realistic. You can also add dried moss or rock to the potted area to hide any visible floral styrofoam.

Do you have a favorite go-to faux plant that you like? Or any of your own tips to share?

  *P.S. You guys have probably been seeing me post more disclosures of “affiliate links” lately, and the gist is that the FTC has been asking bloggers to make more and more explicit mentions in posts these days. The blog world has changed a LOT in recent years, and the FTC just wants any “material relationship” to be clear, regardless if the post is expressly paid for/in conjunction with a brand or not — anything where I might earn ad money, commission, etc. needs to be disclosed in the post and BEFORE I start linking to stuff I’m recommending (which in the past, bloggers just pretty much just linked to stuff they recommended and usually with a disclosure at the bottom, but the rules have been changing over time). So, I don’t mean for it to be annoying or to repeat myself AT ALL, but I also want to be as much on the up-and-up with doing things “the right way” for everyone involved — especially if there are new guidelines for doing so, and if it’s more specific on where I have to place such language and whatnot! But, as always, I would never recommend something I wasn’t personally interested in recommending, or stuff I’ve purchased myself, or a brand that I really like, etc. I’m not much of a rule-breaker by nature, so whenever you see me saying “hey, there are affiliate links” in a post, this is why! I know not all of you guys know the behind-the-scenes rules with blogs in general or how that world changes day to day, so if you’ve been seeing this on the blogs you love to read, I just thought I’d let you know why you’re seeing it more!

The post Now Is the Time for Buying Faux Plants appeared first on The Ugly Duckling House.

Website // Subscribe // Advertise // Twitter // Facebook // Google+

from mix1 http://ift.tt/2nBYDeI via with this info

#mix1

[petraself]

Now Is the Time for Buying Faux Plants

If there’s one thing I’ve learned about myself over the years of owning the UDH, it’s that I can kill a lot of plants.

And even though I can keep a few alive, like around the sink in the kitchen, buying some faux ones for certain parts of the house is best!

Legalese*: This post contains affiliate links, which helps to support this site. If you’re at all curious why these disclaimers are being seen so much on blogs lately (and near the top of content instead of the bottom), scroll to the bottom of the post for details. If not, continue reading and carry on! <3

I’ve realized that some spaces in my house, I just forget to water. I still like green things, though, so I compulsively buy plants, even when I know their potential fate (my trash can is nice and all, just not a spot I hope for plants to end up)…

…and then they die from neglect, and then I buy replacements, vowing to do better this time…

And then I forget again. On and on the cycle goes… until I realized I should just buy some faux plants for the areas that I forget. As long as I can find some realistic-enough-looking ones, I can still have greenery in tough areas that might not otherwise tolerate my watering forgetfulness (or lack of enough natural light… this house can be a little dark sometimes!). Through a little trial and error, I’ve picked up a few tips:

The best places to find them

The best times to find them (since seasonality can play a role on selection)

Ways to make them look more realistic

Since I just had a “Homegoods haul” and found a bunch of new ones to add to the house, I figured now was as good of a time as any to cover some of these in more detail.

Where to find good deals on realistic faux plants

I first started out by buying a few to replace the plant graveyard on the laundry room’s back shelf. The room doesn’t get much natural light from this small, hexagonal window, so the only things that still managed to stay alive during my makeover project this winter were things like aloe and other succulents (the ones I put directly in front of the window and forgot to water, pretty much).

During the holidays, local stores didn’t have much to offer, and as many of you know, finding faux plants that look even a little bit real can be kind of a crap-shoot if you buy online, so finding realistic photos of the product were key. I found that the best “real” photos I could find were from a few Etsy shops, which I’ve now favorited so I can go back for more when I’m decorating future rooms (for instance, two of my bathrooms are windowless, so I’m just going to go with faux in there).

Good Etsy retailers with faux plants: VividPetal, SimplySierraFloral (be sure to check their clearance), dirtcouture, LemonLeafMarket (for finished arrangements), HeavenlyHomesFlowers

Search keywords: faux ___ (plant name), real touch, realistic faux

You can also check my curated Etsy list here: f a u x p l a n t s

I found through online reviews that West Elm had a good faux trailing succulent, so I picked that up for the side shelf (and maybe for bathroom placement when that makeover is completed). I will say, though, not all of their plants are consistent in quality (so be sure to read reviews whenever possible!).

What to look for

In nature, plants tend to have imperfections. So, in order to find a good fake, you need to look for the same perfectly-imperfect elements:

not too perfect — variation in color, size, length (especially when buying faux stems that you’ll later create your own arrangement with)

lack of glossy shine — a great deal of plants do not have waxy leaves, or leaves that are sort of waxy and sort of not, and this one is probably my #1 complaint about stylized photos; a glossy look on plants that you know aren’t naturally that shiny is a dead giveaway that the plant is made of plastic, and this sheen can easily be Photoshopped out of catalogue-type product listings. So, I look for imperfections and have found that “dusty” plants or ones known to have super-waxy leaves (basically, one end of the spectrum or the other) look best. In nature, even the waxy-leaf varieties don’t typically look like they were covered in poly!

plant types — I’ve found that the following plant varieties often look pretty good when faux: fiddle leaf, rubber, boxwood, snake plants, eucalyptus, succulents & cactus (of all kinds – sedum, aloe, etc.), ferns, spider, Dusty Miller, Lamb’s Ear

“real touch”, “nearly natural“, or “UV protected” product descriptions — granted, it’s not always the case, but these descriptions yield more realistic-looking results when I shop online; they tend to be better quality, have better ratings, and are less plastic-smelling, too.

greenery vs. flowers — I find that flowers are harder to look real than bunches of greenery. To each their own, but I’d rather buy an inexpensive flower bouquet and switch those out while having greenery as a staple.

DIY-friendly — sometimes it’s not about the plant that makes it look fake; it’s what it’s sitting in, or how smushed together the leaves are, or other details that can be changed with just a little tweaking (more on that below). Make sure you can bend/twist the stems around or break the item down with a few gentle tugs (don’t dismantle it in the store… I’m just saying look at the base, see what’s attaching it, etc. to know if you can later break it down!)

More Faux Plants I Like

!function(d,s,id){ var e, p = /^http:/.test(d.location) ? 'http' : 'https'; if(!d.getElementById(id)) { e = d.createElement(s); e.id = id; e.src = p + '://widgets.rewardstyle.com/js/shopthepost.js'; d.body.appendChild(e); } if(typeof window.__stp === 'object') if(d.readyState === 'complete') { window.__stp.init(); } }(document, 'script', 'shopthepost-script');

Turn on your JavaScript to view content

Best times to buy faux plants (or find the most selection)

Spring (aka, right now), or just as winter is drawing to a close, seems to be the best time for the most selection in retail stores. A lot of what you see in some of these photos came from a recent trip to Homegoods and TJMaxx, though I’ve also found that Target and West Elm are good when things start to go on clearance or have a big sale.

Other projects: DIY Dog Bowl Stand – Counter Bar in Breakfast Nook

What about dried plants/stems?

It’s a personal preference, but I don’t like dried plants or stems as much. I find that they always look a little dead and I prefer realistic faux with more color. I also hate dusting dried plants because they sometimes break apart (and I am not a gentle enough duster, it seems).

DIY for a better faux

I find return trips to be an avoidable hassle. If you find that you’ve ordered something that is too shiny or looks too unrealistic, you can often DIY a fix!

If the item is too shiny — spray a matte sealer on the leaves to tone down the sheen; if you don’t get every single nook and cranny, that’s ok! The lack of consistency in the leaves will actually help to make it look more real.

Rearrange — I tend to look for good deals on an entire sleeve of faux stems (like the box of faux Lamb’s Ear in the pictures above/below). Usually, stems are only stuck in place with the end of the stem in a floral block (or a little hot glue), so they can be yanked out and rearranged with ease! You can also break the original arrangement down completely to individual stems and come up with entirely separate groupings, then toss/donate/repurpose the decorative box they came in. The only reason why I might do this instead of buying a bunch of stems in bulk is because the arranged ones at discount stores (like Homegoods) can sometimes be cheaper than buying 20 stems from a retailer.

Repot — the problem might not be the plant at all, but what it’s sitting in. Young House Love recently found a great faux fiddle leaf fig at Target that looks pretty fake at first, but by repotting and rearranging the individual leaves, it looks believable enough to keep. More often than not, the problem is that the pot is not in proportion to the plant’s size, which makes the whole thing look dinky and emphasizes its flaws.

Put them next to real plants — intermixing faux and real (like I do in my laundry room) makes the fake ones look more like they belong… just be sure not to put the real version and fake version of the same plant next to each other.

Surround them with other natural elements or warm metals — wood, straw, and brass/copper can add the earthiness vibe that real plants put off, so repotting to a planter that has one of these elements will help a fake look more realistic. You can also add dried moss or rock to the potted area to hide any visible floral styrofoam.

Do you have a favorite go-to faux plant that you like? Or any of your own tips to share?

  *P.S. You guys have probably been seeing me post more disclosures of “affiliate links” lately, and the gist is that the FTC has been asking bloggers to make more and more explicit mentions in posts these days. The blog world has changed a LOT in recent years, and the FTC just wants any “material relationship” to be clear, regardless if the post is expressly paid for/in conjunction with a brand or not — anything where I might earn ad money, commission, etc. needs to be disclosed in the post and BEFORE I start linking to stuff I’m recommending (which in the past, bloggers just pretty much just linked to stuff they recommended and usually with a disclosure at the bottom, but the rules have been changing over time). So, I don’t mean for it to be annoying or to repeat myself AT ALL, but I also want to be as much on the up-and-up with doing things “the right way” for everyone involved — especially if there are new guidelines for doing so, and if it’s more specific on where I have to place such language and whatnot! But, as always, I would never recommend something I wasn’t personally interested in recommending, or stuff I’ve purchased myself, or a brand that I really like, etc. I’m not much of a rule-breaker by nature, so whenever you see me saying “hey, there are affiliate links” in a post, this is why! I know not all of you guys know the behind-the-scenes rules with blogs in general or how that world changes day to day, so if you’ve been seeing this on the blogs you love to read, I just thought I’d let you know why you’re seeing it more!

The post Now Is the Time for Buying Faux Plants appeared first on The Ugly Duckling House.

Website // Subscribe // Advertise // Twitter // Facebook // Google+

Now Is the Time for Buying Faux Plants published first on http://ift.tt/1kI9W8s