Beautifulburnout:

i have terrible luck with technology. and my modem crapped out on me tonight. so replies will have to wait another day. sigh. im sorry to everyone D: 

also i need to plot all the things with all the people. so hit me up xox

hinemoanax:

Kora just about jumps out of their skin when they hear a noise on the porch of their shitty little bungalow. They were curled up on the sofa watching what was probably the tenth Inuyasha episode of the night (they’d lost control of their life a long time ago). They should’ve been asleep as they had an early start for school, but a dream about drowning had cut the whole sleep thing short. That whole crushing-darkness, burning lungs and numb limbs schtick really didn’t float their boat. Waking up in a cold sweat with that anxiety-slash-nausea-slash-panic feeling in their throat didn’t help either.

Kora slinks off the sofa when there’s a knock at the door, pausing their show as they let the blanket snake down their legs to fall on the floor. They scuttle over to the door - they spend a moment trying to peak out the window at whoever just jumpscared them, but between the flyscreens, the bars and the dirt (they didn’t clean the outside of the house, fam) they couldn’t make out shit. The broken porch light didn’t help in the slightest. 

They sink the chain before they crack the door open, just enough to peak out, squinting in the low light.

“Uh. Hi?”

[ @theprodigalsoldier ]

he was a cop. he was a good cop. good at his job, and cared a whole fucking lot. and he didn’t want to put that in jeopardy. and yet... his fighting had started getting worse recently. along with his drinking. it was something he refused to examine, or acknowledge, or deal with. so it just kept getting worse. usually, he could chalk up the after affects of his scraps as bumps and bruises he got on the job, or while sparing in the gym. but— this was a little more severe than a black eye. and why he was showing up at kora’s place way too god damn late. he couldn’t go to anyone else with this, because they’d make him go to the hospital. and he couldn’t risk the PD finding out. he felt bad coming by like this, with request for such a huge favor... but something told him kora would help. 

“ heyyy, kora, ” he said quietly, holding a towel against the wound on his lower back.  “ i’m real sorry for comin’ so late like this. but, you were closest, and i— uh, i need your help. if you don’t like blood... tell me now, and i’ll go. ”

@tatemcallisterr

@tatemcallisterr asked “ ❢ ” [ ❢ ] my muse discovers yours all bloodied and bruised.

he’d gone through the list. yoga, taking a long walk, reading a book, doing something with his hands. he was really trying to find better coping mechanisms, but the ones that the counselor at the VA recommended just really were not cutting it. or doing much of anything at all. with the reappearance of jonny in his life, and all the complicated bullshit that came along with that, plus the hardship his family was going through with the cafe not making as much as it needed to... the inside of jaxon’s head was not a fun place. and god damn, he just wanted everything to slow down for a moment. he wanted the world to just get a little quieter. four shots of whiskey and a bar fight later, things had slowed down. his brain could only focus on the throbbing and the bleeding and the blurring effects of the whiskey. jax sipped slowly at his flask, sitting on the concrete edge of a planter outside the bar. blood slid slowly from the re-opened cut on his cheek, and leaked from the inside of his mouth. it should be trouble that jaxon felt calm, and centered like this, for the first time in weeks. 

That back tho

[ right rib cage. ] 

[ right hip bone. ] 

[ left rib cage. w/ his own information. ]

                               𝕁  𝕒  𝕩  𝕠  𝕟 ’ 𝕤    𝕋  𝕒  𝕥  𝕥  𝕠  𝕠  𝕤

If you were to ask Jaxon why he had so many tattoos, he’d simply answer it with this: “For a long time, my body was scarred and marked without my permission. I’ve made peace with that. Tattoos are my way of taking back control of the stories my skin tells.” Well… that, and MMA fighting culture and USMC soldier culture are fairly encouraging of tattoos. 

Tattoos, locations, and reasoning are as follows.

Keep reading

Look what they do to you Look what they do to me Must be joking if you think that either one is free, here Get up off your knees, girl Stand face to face with your God And find out what you are (Hello, my name is human)

I'm ready for love and I'm ready for war But I'm ready for more I know that nobody's ever been this fucking ready before, hey (Do you need some time to think it over?)

jax ✉✉✉ jonny

jaxon: you're home and safe, yeah? not wandering around in the storm like i found tate.

Do you think the universe fights for souls to be together? Some things are too strange and strong to be coincidences.

Emery Allen (via wnq-writers)

@beautifulburnout

beautifulburnout:

Things between them were beyond complicated. There was a lot unsaid and a lot that needed to be said. But despite all the years and despite the tension Jonny trusted Jaxon because he knew that he still cared. He felt weak, vulnerable and small but with Jaxon it didn’t matter. He knew he’d take care of him and Jonny knew he needed that right now.  The touch to his jaw had him meeting Jaxon’s eyes. Even if he wasn’t crying there was no hiding the fact that he had been. He didn’t have anything to hide from Jax and when he offered his hands Jonny took them without hesitation. He almost went in for a hug because he wanted the comfort but he checked himself. The last hug they shared hadn’t exactly been the most encouraging thing in regards to affection and even if he was having a rough night he didn’t want to push that on Jax. Instead he just climbed into the car and hugged his jacket around himself tighter. “Um, sure. Sounds good,” he finally replied. His voice was soft and hoarse. All the yelling that he did only served to make him lose his voice. Coffee did sound pretty nice. “Thanks…”

the tension, the history, the complicated feelings— all of that was monumental and waiting between them. but that was for another time, another night, another place. not with jonny hurting and scared and in need. jaxon would chalk it up to his duty as a cop. he was supposed to help people. that’s all this was. but the way worry ached in his chest, and the way he wanted nothing more than to comfort jonny with physical affection... that wasn’t exactly standard cop feelings. but he was doing a job, and playing a role, and his feelings were easier to ignore when he focused on that. 

he closed the door behind jonny, pausing at the trunk to grab a blanket as he walked.  “ here, jay, ” he said, laying the blanket gently in his lap. he knew how cold jonny always got. and being shaken up and barefoot probably wouldn’t help that.  “ okay, ” jax replied softly, watching him for another long moment. he noticed the tear in jonny’s jacket, and he grazed a fingertip over the slice. when his finger came away with a slight smear of blood, jaxon concern peaked sharply.  “ alright. i know yer really shaken. but i need t’ know what happened, jonny... ” his voice was still gentle, and empathetic. but he put the cruiser into drive, and pulled away. maybe it would be easier for jonny to talk when it felt less like he was filing a police report.