look at those hands damn

6

Wes Bentley as Peter Hood in Gone (2012)

@missmoonchilde, if you’re there.

The cameras were flashing and your ears were filled with the sound of adoring fans. The noise only grew once he came into view. Everything about him had you thirst for him, the way he walked, the black suit jacket he wore, that fucking shirt he wore. Not to mention how good he looked in those black skinny jeans, but you knew you’d never have a chance with him. Come on, you were just a photographer working for a shitty magazine and you happened to get your first break. No one took the chance to give you a second look, not unless they just wanted to get laid. Fucking horny bastards.

Then all of a sudden, his blue-gray eyes met yours. He smiled at some cameras, then his head tilted down, gaze flickering back up towards yours. His thumbs hung from his pockets and he gave off this aura that just drew you in. The next thing you knew he was walking up to you and shaking your hand while looking at you with those damn eyes. Wait. Is that a note? You looked up at him in shock. He gave you a small grin, nodding slightly and then swaggered away.

The world dissolved around you as you watched him walk away. But suddenly remembering why he just came over to you, looking down at the folded paper in your hands, remembering how incredibly soft his hands were.

“(Hotel name, room #, time) You like pizza?” You laughed at the scribbled note at the bottom.

….fuck fuck fuck is this for real? You couldn’t believe it, why on earth would he want to meet you?


Instinct || Jack

Jack masterpost found here

Word count - 1,509

Summary - The one where you panicked and called your ex.

-

You and Jack had been broken up for only two months. You still weren’t sure what went wrong. Your strong, two year relationship ended so abruptly. One day you were coming over for a lazy day in, and the next thing you knew, you were sobbing in your car on the way home.

“Can you tell me what I did wrong? Please?” you sobbed out, not knowing what else to do.

“You didn’t do anything wrong!” Jack said, frustration evident in his voice. “I’m just, God I don’t know I’m just so overwhelmed right now. I just need to be alone again.”

“Why?” you almost shouted.

“I don’t know!” he yelled back. “I just have too much going on with YouTube and I’m not ready for this!”

“What, and you couldn’t have figured that out two years ago?” you said. “You’re telling me I’ve just wasted two years of my life on a boy who just now realized he’s not ready to be seriously committed?”

“You know what?” Jack huffed. “Yeah, I guess that is what I’m telling you.”

And now, two months later, you still felt empty. You had seriously imagined spending the rest of your life with Jack. You both talked about it from time to time and it felt like it was a solid plan in both of your minds. What had happened that made him change his mind?

You spent the weekend back home in Bristol, hoping that some time with your family would help relax. Of course, it didn’t, and you were still feeling a heavy weight in your chest on the drive home. You couldn’t have been more than thirty minutes away from London when your car made a horrible noise. The check engine light on your car starting flashing and, before you knew it, your car came to an abrupt halt on the side of the road. It was dark out now and you had close to no idea where you were. You got out of your car to open your hood and check your engine, but you couldn’t tell what was wrong. You were no car expert. “Hey sweetie!” some greasy looking man across the road yelled to you. “I can give you a lift! It won’t cost you a thing except a night at my house!”

“No, let me!” another man yelled. “She’s just the fine piece of ass I’ve been looking for.”

You quickly got in your car and locked the doors, feeling your whole body start to shake and tears to prick in your eyes. Before you knew it, full on sobs were escaping your body. You didn’t know what to do. You had no idea where you were and no way to get back to London. It was nearing 1:00 in the morning and you were instantly regretting not staying another night in Bristol rather than driving home in the dark.

Suddenly, almost instinctively, you had rung Jack. You were still crying and your head was feeling fuzzy. You didn’t realize how inappropriate it probably was for you to call him until he actually picked up the phone. “(Y/N)?” Jack answered. He sounded tired and confused. You wondered if you just woke him up or if he was just not in the mood to talk to you.

“I know I shouldn’t call you,” you said, your voice shaking. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know what else to do.”

“What’s going on?” he said, sounding a bit more alert than before.

“My car broke down,” you answered, trying to control your breathing. “There are these guys across the street and they keep looking at me and I’m scared and I don’t know what to do or-” You cut yourself off by crying again.

“Hey, I need you to relax okay?” Jack said gently. “Tell me where you are.”

“I don’t know!” you cried out. “I, I don’t know, Jack.”

“(Y/N), pull up your maps and tell me where you are.”

You had been in such a panic you didn’t even think to do the obvious and check your phone to see where you were stranded. When you did, you rattled off the location to Jack. “Are you in your car?” Jack asked, rustling heard on his end of the line.

“Yeah,” you said, your voice small.

“Alright, stay there, I’m coming to get you,” he said. “Don’t get out of your car, you understand me? Keep the doors locked and don’t get out of the car.”

“Okay,” you said.

“Promise me,” he said sternly. “Promise me you won’t get out of the car.”

“I promise.”

Less than a half hour later, a pair of headlights appeared behind your car. You looked in your rear-view mirror and saw that it was Jack. You got out of your car almost bashfully and walked up to Jack. He immediately pulled you into his arms and held you tightly to his chest. “Are you okay?” he asked. “Did they come up to you? Did they touch you?”

“I’m okay,” you said softly. “Look, Jack, I’m really sorry I called you.” You could feel the tears falling from your eyes again. “I crossed a line. I shouldn’t have called you. I just, it was like my instinct. I’m sorry-”

“Babe, look at me,” Jack said, holding your face in his hands. You could hardly look him in the eyes. Those damn blue eyes. You noticed the bags under them and the way they weren’t as bright as they usually were.

“You look different,” you said suddenly. “Are you okay?” Jack gave you a sad smile.

“I’m alright,” he said. “Just haven’t been sleeping too good.”

“And now I call you at the dead of night,” you sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright,” he said. “Come on, let’s get you home.”

The ride back to your flat was eerily silent. Jack never turned on the radio and as badly as you wanted to, you knew that sometimes, Jack just enjoyed silence. So, you sat there sulking in your thoughts, focusing on not crying again. When Jack pulled up to your flat, you couldn’t get yourself to get out of the car. “Jack-”

“I’m sorry,” Jack said. You looked up at him immediately, confusion written across your face. “I’m sorry I left you. It was pathetic. I shouldn’t have done it. And, I miss you. I-” He stopped himself, letting out a big sigh. “I miss you so fucking much, (Y/N).”

You were shaking your head, tears streaming down your cheeks. “What are you doing?” you said quietly. “You don’t have any right to do this to me.”

“I need to tell you how I feel,” he said. “It’s been eating me up. Why do you think I haven’t been sleeping? It’s because I miss you. It’s because I need to hold you and I can’t.”

“Then why did you leave?” you yelled.

“Because I couldn’t do it!”

“Do what?”

“This!”

Jack reached in his coat pocket and pulled out a small velvet box. Your hands flew up to your mouth in shock. He didn’t even open the box, just twiddled it in his hands. “I bought it but I was too scared to actually do it,” he said, his voice small, sounding defeated. “I tried day after day, week after week, to find the perfect moment to ask you, but I chickened out every fucking time. So I ran away, because I thought if I didn’t have the balls to propose to you, what else could I do?” Tears were still falling from your eyes and you were getting a headache from all the information being thrown at you. “I know I can’t propose and pretend like everything is fine now,” he said quietly. “But I’m begging you to take me back so we can get to that point again. And I won’t chicken out then. If you give me another chance, I promise you that I will ask you to be my wife. Please, (Y/N).”

You stared at Jack, feeling overwhelmed with emotion. Logically, you knew you shouldn’t forgive him or take him back. He hurt you so badly. But deep down, you knew Jack. You knew that he was just a little scared and that he needed to leave to realize he had to tough it up and face his emotions. You loved him too much to stay away and cause either of you to keep suffering. You reached out and laid a hand on his cheek, making him close his eyes and lean into your touch. “You are the love of my life,” you said quietly. “But you can’t keep running when you feel too much.”

“I know,” he said. “I’m not gonna run again. I promise.”

Not being able to help yourself, you leaned in and pressed your lips against Jack’s. He eagerly kissed you back, keeping the kiss gentle and loving. Maybe, you thought, there was a reason your car broke down that night. Maybe there was a reason your instinct was to call him. Maybe, just maybe, this was why.

2

me: my art’s not improving!!!

me: *looks at old art*

me: oh

my thoughts on studyblr/studying “aesthetic”

(as requested)(as if anyone wants to read this)

we’ve all seen those posts, the ones with hardwood tables and macbooks, highlighters and lattes with the foam just so, with captions like “how to not procrastinate!” “best note-taking method ever!” “if you don’t want to study, do it anyway!” and i just…

i didn’t know what to say for a while, because i felt conflicted. on the one hand, it’s great to emphasize learning, prioritize education, not treat school as “ugh, gross” but for something that is actually a privilege, because we’re lucky for the wealth of knowledge at our fingertips. but on the other hand, how much of this aesthetic is really about learning? it’s so curated, gilmore-girls, “let me take my $700 computer to starbucks and color-code all my notes” and somehow it comes across kind of privileged to me, as well? like, just because you don’t study The Studyblr Way doesn’t devalue that you’re doing work. but when only one of these (slightly classist) viewpoints is shared, it can make you feel like you’re doing something wrong.

i also reblogged a post about the overexertion rampant in our generation because we’re all supposed to be hard workers, high achievers, do as much as we can and still beg for more. and i feel like this romanticization of studying only feeds into that. i’ve seen posts with “no pain, no gain” mentalities about studying, and as much as i get that yes, we should study instead of procrastinate, do we really need to make such a big thing out of this? if you’re having a panic attack because of studying, guess what? you’re not weak for not choosing to study that night. studying is cool and all, but it’s not the necessary ingredient for doing well and it’s not a key to success, especially not the way that’s touted as successful on tumblr. i just think there should be more of an emphasis on the joy of learning, on discovering interesting and new things, than seeing minuscule ballpoint notes in some girl’s notebook about subjects i’m not going to take. to be honest, i look at those posts and think “damn, my hand would kill me after writing all that” and then i think that i’m just happy to not be a pre-med.

tl;dr – there’s nothing wrong with not buying into the studying aesthetic. for every rory gilmore, there’s twelve exhausted students staying up late, cramming last minute, quickly googling everything they can and hoping something sticks before they ultimately decide that sleep is more worth it, and crash into bed. studying isn’t everything. if you love it, good for you, but it’s not the only way you’ll do well in college, or in life.

Yes, Ma’am  (Steve Rogers x reader)

Request:  Hello!! I was wondering if you could write a Steve imagine where the reader is trying to run away(literally haha) from her ex that just won’t let her go and she bumps into Steve, so she just grabs his hand and tells him to keep quiet and play along as her ex arrived and see them

Hope you enjoy, love!


“Andrew, I’ve told you this so many times, and I really don’t know any other way to say it that you will understand.  We. Are.  Over.  We aren’t going to be friends, I’m not your booty call; I’m your nothing.  You are my nothing.”  You were becoming more and more frustrated as your now ex-boyfriend stared at you, crying and begging you to forgive him of his latest transgression. His dejected expression left you with a small pang of regret, but not enough to change your mind. “I’m leaving now, Andrew.  Don’t follow me again.  Stay here, maybe have lunch, clear your head, and forget about me.”

It was really getting embarrassing, him following you so much.  Today, you had ducked into a small café just to get the scene off the sidewalk and out of public display.  If he wanted to work on winning you back, acting like a petulant child was not the way to do it.  You had only been together for six months, and it was a shock to you that he would be having this reaction.  You certainly weren’t happy, so what did he think he was fighting for?  

As you rounded the corner past the café, you heard his voice again.  “(Y/N), come on!  Why can’t we work this out?”

Your pace quickened, ducking around the next corner, not even caring which way you were going.  As you turned you looked back to see if he was watching, paying no attention to the man who was directly in front of you. You turned to him just as you crashed together, his arms quickly reaching out to grab you and keep you upright.

“Oh, shit!  I’m sorry!”  You looked up to see a very handsome, very well-built man, now looking at you with concern and confusion.  “I wasn’t watching where I was going…I…uh,” you stammered, entranced by his soft blue eyes, now at a complete loss for words.  “Um, I mean…I was just trying…to…to get away…from…”

“(Y/N), really? You’re hiding from me now?”  

“Are you in trouble? Is someone following you?”  He moved to step in front of you, but you grabbed his hand and pulled him forward, hatching what just might be the perfect plan.

“Just play along, ok?”

His eyes were wide as you pulled him back around the corner, stumbling onto the sidewalk.  “Y-Yes, ma’am.”

Putting on your most confident walk, you flipped your hair back and squeezed the man’s hand tightly. He easily towered over you by at least a foot, but you’d never felt taller as you prepared to confront your whiney ex-boyfriend for hopefully the last time.

You had now met up with Andrew on the sidewalk, his expression confused and growing a bit angry.  He looked from you to this new man and back again. He was sizing him up, you could tell. You stifled a laugh, knowing he was no match for your new captive companion.  Giving him a brief smile, you casually moved to walk past him, but he stood in your path.

“Excuse us, Andrew.”

“What the hell is this?!” his hands frantically pointing back and forth between the two of you. “When the hell did you meet Captain America?! And why is he holding your hand?!”

Your stomach dropped and you began to feel your face heating up, attempting to not change your expression to one of complete humiliation.  Oh god, of all the guys in New York, I had to grab Captain freaking America?  

“Hello, I’m Steve. Andrew, is it?”  Steve held out his hand, trying his best to be polite. “I’ve heard so much about you,” Steve took a step forward, now toe-to-toe with your ex, holding the handshake firmly.  You could see Andrew’s fingers beginning to turn white from the pressure.  “and I didn’t like any of it.  I think you should leave the lady alone now.”

“Oh, you think so do you?” You closed your eyes as your dumber-than-you-thought ex boyfriend spoke.  “You wanna know what I think?”  He reached out to pull you towards him, grabbing your arm with the hand he still had free.

That was a really, really bad idea.

The sound of crushing bones is one you will never forget, along with the high-pitched scream and sound of Andrew’s pleas as Steve held him to the ground, his arm twisted awkwardly behind him.  “Now, Andrew, you are going to leave the lady alone.” It wasn’t a question; it was a direct order.  Steve’s voice was calm, controlled, and extremely sexy.  You felt awkward at your attraction to him, in front of the violent scene playing out.

“I will, I will!  I swear!  Just let me go!”

Steve released him, still standing over the small, shaking man.  “ I suggest you apologize to (Y/N).”

“I’m sorry, (Y/N).” He was panting now, holding his injured hand to his chest.  “I won’t bother you again.”  He slowly stood and cowered as he walked away, never looking back to you.

You squeezed your eyes together, embarrassed now at what Steve had done for you.  “I’m sorry.  Oh, I’m so sorry.  I had no idea who you were.”  You had just realized that you were still holding his hand.  You released it quickly, as if it were burning your skin. “Steve…um… Captain…um…”

“Steve, please.”  He reached down and took your hand again. For such a powerful man with such strong hands, his skin was soft and warm, and your hand fit perfectly within it. “The way you took control back there, I believe you could easily out-rank me, given the chance.”

You took a moment to look at your hands together, then up to his face with those damn beautiful eyes, trying to gather your confidence.  “Well, in that case, mister,  you’re taking me out for a cup of coffee.”  His eyes brightened, if that were even possible, his face alight with the excitement of a kid at Christmas.

“Yes, ma’am.”  

anonymous asked:

caulscott thing in alt universe where nathan meets max and is like "OH MAN SHES SO CUTE AND COOL I WANT HER IN MY CLUB" and makes vic propose it to the others bc he doesnt want 2 seem smitten

oka Y i spent like two days straight writing this ngl. i also somewhat got v e r y lazy towards the end, but i hope that you still enjoy this sin i have created???

(shoutout to epitome-of-bad-puns for helping me proofread at 5 in the morning ily)

also titles???? whatre those lmao


Fandom: Life is Strange

Pairing: Caulscott (Max Caulfield/Nathan Prescott)

Rating: T????? idk they use some explicit language im just bein safe ok

Words: 1,800+

Keep reading

An Unfaithful Drunk- Frank Iero Smut

HEY! I honestly didn’t know how to set this one up, so sorry if it sucks! But thank you for the request! xx And Also sorry if its short, the foreplay in this is short, and I apologize. 


Frank was always a good man to you, until he got drunk, and started flirting with your friends, touching them and grabbing them, and what sickened you the most is that they thought it was totally fine with you. You sat in the corner of the room with your arms crossed, your eyes dark and glaring at your tipsy boyfriend, dancing, and grinding past every girl in the house.


It was his idea for a party, and you could only imagine the things you were to do to him when they left, when the party was over, Frank on the other hand, hand no idea the evil you were planning. 


The thing is he only acts like this when he’s drunk, but when he’s sober? Well he’s an absolute puppy, and he even follows you around like one, doing everything he possibly can to please you and only you, but its days like these is where it really pisses you off.


People started to leave, and Frank was starting to sober up, only a few people remained in the house, and he still continued to flirt and grab and grope. You stand up, clearly annoyed and grab him by the collar, pulling him along. He followed you without protest until you pushed him against the wall. “Y/N, what the fuck are you-“  “Shut up. Frank, you’ve been bad.” You press your finger against his lips. You drag it down, taking his lower lip down with it. Your fingers trail down his chest, and down his clothed torso, all while you press your thigh up against his groin, making him bite his thin lip.


Your hand stops at his belt. “Frankie, I want you up stairs, now.” You breathe at him. He nods submissively and does as you ask, going to the stairs and jogging up them. “Little fucking puppy.” You mumble to yourself, walking up the steps, smirking to yourself. 


You walk into your room to see Frank sitting on the bed, staring directly at the door frame, struggling to hide a bulge in his pants, and failing miserably. “Oh poor Frank.” You smirk at him “Y/N, Please.” He begs. 


You walk over to him, and sit on his lap, facing him… straddling him. “But Frankie, you have been a bad boy all evening. Why should I give you what you want? Especially now, considering you made me very jealous tonight.” You tease him, rolling your hips over the prominent bulge in his tight pants. “Babe… please.” He whimpers. 


You respond by kissing his neck, sucking on a sweet spot making him moan quietly in your ear. “Don’t make a noise.” You demand in a whisper, pushing him down. You pull his shirt over his head, kissing down his chest, and his stomach.
You kiss right above the hem of his pants, sucking on his tattoo. Frank looks down at you, biting his lip, and placing his hands in your hair. You remove your lips and look at him. “Looks like I’m going to have to something with those damned hands, Frankie.” You tsk and stand up; going to find a scarf you could bind his hands with. 


Frank just sits and waits for you to come back to him, the look on his lustful was almost painful- he was so uncomfortable, and wanted you- needed you. You smile at him, coming over with a red scarf. 


You made sure the door was locked, and then made your way over to Frank, putting one leg on either side of his torso as you tied his hands to the bed post.


You fall back to the end of the bed and unbuckle Frank’s belt, pulling it through his belt loops and tossing it to the floor. You also unbutton, unzip and pull down his constricting pants; you threw them towards the door. His boxers flew off next.


Frank whimpers down at you, with pleading eyes. He knew what you were about to do, and his stomach was doing flips. You ran your fingers lightly down a vein on his dick. “You’ve been waiting for this all night I bet.” You guess, wrapping your hand around his hard member, pulling it upward and back down again, slow, and gently. You ran your thumb over the head of his cock, and smiled up at him as he licked his bottom lip and bit it.


You pressed your tongue flat against his shaft, licking upwards and then back down again, licking on the vein that ran along the side. You flick your tongue on the very tip, making Frank’s arms texture with goose bumps. You suck lightly on it, and the popped off, blowing cool air on it, and running the tip of your tongue down his shaft once again. Your smirk, and decide he was going to actually get it tonight. You lick a long, firm line up his testicles and stop and suck lightly, pumping his dick with your hands. 


Frank moans quietly.


You smack his thigh scolding him for making a noise. You lick back up his shaft again and pull him halfway into your mouth. You bob your head slowly up and down.


Frank watches you intently, trying to keep his little moans in as you tease him. You finally decide to stop and pull him all the way in, and slightly down your throat, bobbing your head quickly, flattening your tongue on his shaft as you do so. You pull off with a satisfying ‘pop’ noise and suck on the absolute tip again.


You grab a condom from the nightstand, pulling the foil packet apart and rolling it on his hard dick. You unbutton your pants, and unzip them, struggling to pull them down your legs. 


You strip clothing after clothing, not worrying about looking sexy as you do it, you just want to fuck the living daylights out of Frank.


Once again you place your legs on either side of his body, right leg resting by his right hip, and left by his left hip. You hover over his dick, and lower yourself down, all the way down until there is little to no space in between you, you stare in Frank’s eyes intently, moving yourself, rolling your hips over his, and pulling yourself upwards and then back down. Frank bites his lip until blood starts pool on his thin chapped lips.  You lean down, and kiss him, sucking on his bottom lip.


You feel Frank bolt up wards, bucking his hips, driving his dick further into you, he was getting impatient and you would have none of it. You held on to his jaw and looked at him sternly. “You are not allowed.” You breathe making him whimper. 


You bounce faster on him, rolling your hips over him, the smack of your flesh on him was heard throughout the room and you let out your own set of moans, as your g-spot was rubbed against. 


Frank was a moaning mess, and as were you. Everything was focused on him, but your eyesight was gone, your eyes were sealed shut, as were his. You kissed and sucked down his neck when you weren’t making noises. 


Franks hands pulled against his restraints, and tugged, and tugged and tugged until he broke free.  You could care less at this moment; you wanted his hands on you. “Frankie, touch me.” You command, and he did so. He grabbed your ass, groping and squeezing, running his hands up and down your body. Finally you felt him twitch inside of you, and you could feel him streaming into the condom. You came as well, holding Frank close, as your walls clenched around him, you moved your hips, and swirled them, riding out your high.


You got off of him and lay next to him. “Frank you need to work on being faithful while you’re drunk” You pant, and kiss his cheek. He nods. “I know Y/N.” He responds, agreeing with you.