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"This is not my life. These are not my cobwebs. This is not the darkness I was designed for.” (x)

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“I promise you, that I’ll look after him as closely as you’ve done, I’ll respect him and all the care that you’ve taken with him. And if I can - I’ll return him to your care”

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"This is not my life. These are not my cobwebs. This is not the darkness I was designed for.” (x)

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OOC

That GIFSET! Dancing Tilda is def something Gus is here for ;D

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Shaun of the Dead | Hot Fuzz | The World’s End aka the Three Flavours Cornetto Trilogy + fence jumping

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Hello, I’m Tom Hiddleston.

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I don’t want to survive. I want to live.

Solomon Northup, 12 Years A Slave (via thebiterbrigade)

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ANNIE YOUR COMMENT /DEADDDDD

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WASH because I wanted to make a gorram photoset of Wash

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True confessions: Gus isn't an optimist at all, he just saw these beautiful naked women rolling around & decided to seize the day, since he stands a better chance now that he is one of six dudes still alive ;DDDD

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"You're absolutely right," he began, blue eyes twinkling with humor all to himself.  "But I did need a good excuse to loiter here."  She looked tired, deep eyes reflecting back too much to worry about, but despite all that, she had a way of smiling still which he admired.  "I suspect Bran would rather have me fixing that socket in the head house that keeps blowing."  

It wasn't exactly urgent, but he'd come to the inescapable conclusion that his was the least valuable position in the Brigade but, like so many other things, he let the knowledge roll off his back.  In any case, he'd been tinkering with it all afternoon to nothing.  It was like reinventing the wheel, given that he knew nothing about electricity beyond rudimentary science.  Yet, he welcomed the challenge.

Despite all this, it was evident enough that wasn't the only reason he'd appeared.  Bran didn't particularly care if he took a tea break with Stitches, but for another reason, he did feel the need for an excuse.

Gus chuckled at her comment, arching his brows.  "Not used to America, zombies, or the weather?" he joked.  Whether or not others joined, Gus had a habit of laughing at everyone's jokes - including his own.  Laughter brightened his face, like candlelight fluctuating over the contours of his expression.  "When all those travel pamphlets talked about 'excitement' in America, I ought to have taken them at their word," he added, brightly.

Gus always liked the Medic House.  Whether it was the atmosphere of healing, or - more likely - the people to be found there, he always gravitated towards the place.  He never would have guessed that a cul-de-sac in an American suburb would someday be home, but it had become that for him.  Not merely a housing situation or a residence, but a home.  Somehow, he'd found himself in the midst of a family he could adore.

Chuckling, he arched his brows.  "Goodness!  Speaking of excitement," he teased.  "I wonder what she'll make of that." ��If he were a different kind of person, he might have wondered, rather, how that would go over with Bran and Banner as the pair had limited affection for Darling, but Gus had learned to move past these kinds of thoughts and embrace what was good.  "It's good for her to get out," he said more seriously.  Their world might have changed drastically, but no one could pretend, he felt, that it wasn't still their world and beautiful in its way.