Rut In The Road

Rover, wanderer. Nomad, vagabond.

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[ruttintheroad]

GET TO KNOW ME MEME: [5/5] favourite characters » Daryl Dixon

“I ain’t nobody’s bitch.”

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Norman Reedus photographed by Jamie Burke for the cover of So It Goes Issue 5

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Norman Reedus for Imagista

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Norman Reedus photographed by Michael Williams for Imagista

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Norman Reedus photographed by Michael Williams for Imagista

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meet me on the roof

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Happy st patricks day everybody 🍀

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Visit Original Link

[ruttintheroad]

Bottom Of The River ✖ Delta Rae

Hold my hand Ooh, baby, it’s a long way down to the bottom of the river Hold my hand, Ooh, baby, it’s a long way down, a long way down

The wolves will chase you by the pale moonlight (Drunk and driven by a devil’s hunger) Drive your son like a railroad spike (Into the water, let it pull him under) Don’t you lift him, let him drown alive (The good Lord speaks like a rolling thunder) Let that fever make the water rise (And let the river run dry)

[gerdaandersen]

Used video Beth+ Daryl || AU || Unspoken. Thanks to the author - HisPirate.

[sydlarson]

—I haven’t played the guitar or sung in forever. You have to promise not to laugh alright?

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[ruttintheroad]

Promise. Better not be shit. Don’t make a liar outta me, man.

[lilyxfarrell-blog]

I’ve decided I want to write a book. I’m just lacking on the motivation and the uh-well the plot at the moment. But I’m working on it. I am. 

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[ruttintheroad]

Sounds like a real page-turner.

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Ever since coming back to Salem, she hadn’t had the best greetings with people, but she couldn’t quite understand why. It must have been something she said or the way she looked at someone to frustrate them in that moment and they would lash out her. But recently, she decided to stick to herself and leave people alone was for the best, which was seen as different for her, considering who her family was. Royalty wasn’t her cup of tea. She hated everything that came along with it, and all she longed for was something normal. There were days she wanted to run off to another state or country, change her name and be her own person, but she knew that was never possible, which only made her more of an outcast of sorts, even if she didn’t seem the type. The girl who’s eyes were barely sober was the one who was secretly screaming for help.

She was expecting a rude remark, since that’s what anyone else would’ve done, except she heard a low calming voice call it off. She looked up at him with her icy blue eyes, pushing her hair out of her face. “Are you sure? I was just filming a dumb video.” She began, glancing down at his camera before looking back up at the taller man. “Besides, I could’ve broken that camera, sorry anyways.” She smiled slightly, closing the window on her phone and pushing it into her bag. She was cautious. Always calculating her next move, should she speak or not or is this where everything ended? “I’m Helena, by the way. “ She smiled up at him. “So, photography, is it business or pleasure?”

[ruttintheroad]

There was something tentative about her he quickly noticed. Years and years of dwelling out on the fringes somewhere had molded Silas into somewhat of an observer of human nature. Quick to assess, to categorize, to catch the idiosyncrasies in other people and put a name to them. There was always one constant; a small flicker of something in another person’s eyes that he’d glimpsed, that he wasn’t meant to see. Most people recovered swiftly, drew the blinds closed in record time, but the fact that there was anything to really hide from the world to begin with was telling in and of itself. No one knew that better than him. After all, he’d grown more and more shuttered as the years went by, fortifying the walls he’d built up around himself to protect him from prying eyes. 

She appeared to him wrought with a peculiar sort of caution, like she’d been anticipating a negative response from him. Like that was something she’d come to expect from other people. Truth be told, if she hadn’t managed to catch him in one of his moods, she might’ve very well have received what she’d been expecting. It was easier to have thorns, to prick anyone who’d inch too close to his towering walls and send them back on their merry way. But his spirits were light at the moment and even if he felt inclined to be hostile, he’d already gone and fucked it up by treating the girl so warmly. Well, as warm as a man like him could manage in such a circumstance. No, he had no choice but to continue being amicable. 

Listening to her persisting apology, he raised his broad shoulders in an indifferent shrug and shook his head. “Ain’t important. I was jus’ takin’ dumb pictures,” he parroted, throwing the word back at her teasingly. He gave a slight acknowledging nod at her introduction and allowed the corner of his mouth to quirk upwards a bit. “Silas. The name’s Silas.” At her question, he readied himself to tell a lie. Telling her that his photography was a means to preserve a memory of a place felt too personal. Like giving her a piece of himself that he couldn’t get back. So he somewhat skirted the question instead. “As for business or pleasure . . . I dunno. I mean, I ain’t no Ansel Adams. Sometimes you just do shit to do shit. Maybe photography is like that for me.” Another shrug as he fiddled with his camera, wisps of his dark hair falling in front of his blue eyes as he looked down at it in his hands. Looking back at her through his fringe, he jutted his chin out at her in gesture. “How ‘bout you? You lookin’ to be Annie Leibovitz?”