rusted bridge

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Matthew McConaughey & Jeff Bridges - Actors on Actors - Full Conversation [x]

Jeff is grabbing Matthew’s ankle…so cute :)

Aimless - Tenacious Part 3 (13.4k)

Guys it’s actually here im dying and this took me a whole week okay pls reblog or somethin’. Give me some slack for making them bigger and better each time pls. Some smut, mild angst, adventure, and swearing and robbing and hurting ppl ok? That’s the warning. This is a moving gif fic, where I incorporate gifs of a song into this. That song will be Run. 

**SOME GIFS DON’T WORK**

The crew and you rove throughout the town’s and cities, causing havoc while occurrences of inner turmoil from the youngest spouts from the leader’s day’s of ruling their gang to be long overdue.

Tenacious

Tenacious 2

Tenacious 4

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u guys are sleeping so hard on maine gothic 

  • thousands of island dot the coast line, unfound and unknown. so many that people are unsure which are real and which aren’t. Aunt Sarah’s Ledge, Deadman Point, Pound of Tea and Poverty Nub. and the 26 all named Bar. boats blow past them in the night and there’s no sound on the radio. just static.
  • old men, hands as rough as rope, toil endlessly on piers. night after night, their boats docked in the inky water, they hum an ancient tune and grin at the sea as if they’ve seen it’s worst and they know that while nature is cruel men will always be crueler.
  • people say the devil burns hot. up north they say other wise. they say the devil is the open woods, freezing and laughing as you load your rifle with another round. but you can’t shoot darkness, kid. there’s nothing there. 
  • the paper mill is closed. the paper mill is starting up every morning in the same way, the sound of machines whirring to life and the march of footsteps. you throw a rock at a window and pretend you don’t hear shouts when it shatters the glass. the water wheel turns and the paper mill is closed.
  • witches don’t die. they take classes at the university, 13 members of the occult, class of ‘79. they stain grave stones, with feet and hearts, the only parts of the girls that didn’t burn. witches don’t die, not here anyway. they roam the graveyard at night and run surprisingly seamless websites. 
  • there are no billboards in maine. no “hell is real”, no “jesus saves”. so people make do. they paint it on barn sides and picket signs. they scream it from the mountain tops and sear it into your heart. they feel it in their gut, late at night and later still, when the church two towns over burns down and you swear you can still smell the smoke. 
  • there’s a one stoplight town with a grocery store and a gas station that kisses the canadian border. people stare at you as you drive by. you’re from around here. they know that, they can tell by your skin and teeth and smile. from around here, but not from here. not here, not here, for the love of god, not here
  • there’s a car stalled on the I-95. a neon diner sign, never turned off. an old bean factory, a rusted bridge and schoolhouse that hasn’t seen a child’s face in ages. there’s a feeling of belonging, of shells between your fingers and of fear. there’s a signal on channel 6, but no pictures. just static. 
Plateau

In April, the plateau finds itself in a summer before sunlight, dust
devils settling to wrap the land in smokey grit, a welcome cage
of wind and earth curling around old cars, peeling the red rust
flakes away until the metal dissipates like your mother’s rage.
Spring waits underneath, in river banks aching for a flood,
in dry winter wheat fields growing through the earth like blood

seeping to the surface of a wound. You change too, blood
red lips fading to pastel pinks, and powder blush dusts
your cheeks with life. And when we watch the river flood
the edges of the city you brought me to, you tell me you’re caged
in my hands, shifting away, leaving me by the raging
falls, and I sit alone and watch the bridge cables rust.

True summer blooms to life at the end of May, creaking rusty
harvesters into action with the warm weather. My hands bleed
with field work, digging furrows in the garden, letting my rage
filter down through the lifelines on my palms and into the dust.
I let my fingers curl inward, fingernails to palms, no longer a cage
but a stone in a river, worn to smoothness by a flood

that no longer exists, because by July the river’s flood
waters will have ceased, and on the plateau skeletons of rusting
irrigation systems rest, gaping at the cloudless sky like rib cages
cracked open in barren fields, and the harvesters leak bloody
oil in their barns. The workers will sit inside and gather dust
and lament that spring had not lasted longer, enraged

by the whims of the seasons, while outside the wind rages
and throws itself against the fields, crying around corners, flooding
through floorboards to remind us that there is nothing but dust
in the fields, nothing but rust in our bones, rust in our hearts, rust
in our blood, blood on our hands, blood in the river, blood
in our fields, and I realize you will never truly know what a cage

is, because while I still sit in the city you brought me to, the cage
of August drought tightens on the plateau, and the river ceases to rage,
and I have been left behind, forgotten in a dead city flooded
with drifters and broken streets. You sit in another city with blood
red lips and pink powder cheeks, charming another dusty
straight from the field, and I know your cage was only rust

and broken hands, bloody with trying and failing to hold back a flood
of rusty memories. But by December, it’s hard to remember the rage
and pain of a city cage, at least until the plateau rises out of the dust again.

Josh Hutcherson Movie Characters for each zodiac signs

ARIES | Nod - Epic


TAURUS | Jess Aarons - Bridge to Terabithia


GEMINI | Robert Kitner - Red Dawn


CANCER | Gabe - Little Manhattan


LEO | Walter - Zathura


VIRGO | Laser - The Kids are alright


LIBRA | Nick - Escobar: Paradise lost


SCORPIO | Max - The Rusted


SAGITTARIUS | Sean Anderson - Journey movies


CAPRICORN | Steve Leonard - Cirque du freak


AQUARIUS | Clapton Davis - Detention


PISCES | Peeta Mellark - The Hunger Games Triology

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Open- Leo

His grip tightened on the gun, ducking his head down as he aimed for the men shooting at them. Leo cursed under his breath, knowing they shouldn’t have come this way, ‘the element of surprise’ they’d said, it was just plain stupid, not to mention the fact they had to cross a rusted railroad bridge. The only thing to duck behind for cover was the supports on the edges.

A shout came from behind him as someone else was hit, looking back briefly only to quickly realize that it was a mistake. Burning pain shot through his arm as blood began to rush onto his clothes. Leo dropped the gun without thinking and stumbled back a bit only to get hit again with another bullet grazing his side, this time it sending him over the edge of the bridge and into the river below.

This was the first time in years that Leo had felt full blown panic. He couldn’t swim and the current wasn’t helping either, pulling him down under as he tried to keep his head above water. This was what killed the rest of his family, the thought of swimming never appealed to him. “H-Help! I can’t- can’t stay up!” He called, voice lost underneath the gunfire, he was already losing a lot of blood.