ssgtjsawyer-blog

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She likes me… She really likes me! Making friends everywhere I go.  #traveltuesday

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jaxon ‘jonny stop taking pictures of me’ sawyer

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Kellan Lutz for Document Journal

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In truth, you like the pain. You like it because you believe you deserve it.

Marya Hornbacher (via lsabelas)

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littlebirdiegreyson:

Shit. Birdie propped her hands on her hips, a crinkle appearing between her brows. Here she was, about to take advantage of one of the few nice days Seattle had with a picnic outside - then she goes to put one piece of garbage in the trashcan and her whole basket is gone. “Excuse me?” the pretty woman calls the attention of a passerby, frustration evident in her voice. “Do you have a minute?”

growing up in the bronx, jaxon was just fine with big cities. the concrete, the people, the streets... it was all familiar. but his heart had spent their formative years surrounded by trees, bayou, and undeveloped everything. being on patrol where he could walk through the park on his break brought him a little taste of that peace, surrounded by the trees and fresh air and open spaces. he sipped at his coffee and noted the warmth on his dark uniform. his moment, though, was short lived, and the frustration in the woman’s familiar voice immediately pricked at his instincts. “ ‘course, ma’am, ” he teased, approaching her.  “ hey, little bird. what’s up? somethin’ i can help you with? ”

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tatemcallisterr:

Since he had been back in Seattle, Tate hadn’t spent a lot of time out of his house. If he didn’t have his dog to keep him company, he probably would have gone crazy being cooped up that long. But deep down he knew he should be getting out more. So he was sat at a table in the corner reading. Because even though he wasn’t interacting with people it still counted as being social if you were around other human beings, right? He didn’t have to look up to know that someone had just sat down across from him, he could see from the corner of his eye. “That seat is taken. I’m waiting for someone.” Tate finally spoke up after a moment and without looking up from the pages of his book. It was a lie to get them to go away, but they didn’t need to know that.

he could see the tell-tale little furrow in tate’s brow. the one that meant he wasn’t pleased about his current situation, and similarly determined. even though he was absolute crap at drawing, it was an expression he’d seen so many times, and he was sure drawing it would be too easy. ginger and jamie lingered close at jaxon’s sides as he thanked the woman behind the counter for the coffee. and as much as he knew tate wanted to be left alone... well that just wasn’t his style now was it. he dropped down across from tate, with a stupid grin on his face, waiting.  “ taken? i thought you grew out of the imaginary friend thing, brother. and if yer not gonna say hi to me, at least say hi to the dogs. ”

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marimesavvin:

Marisol glanced her client up and down, shaking her head slightly. “Hmm, I know spring fashion this year is a lot more, what’s the word  — bold. Even so, this statement sleeve is too much.” She glanced around, spotting another person nearby, “what do you think? yes to the statement sleeves? I personally think it looks like a drastic 80′s throwback.”

it was a dark hope that this warm day meant the weather was finally turning for the warmer. he liked the rain, he did. but after so many months of it, the southern boy in him was languishing. but now, he was relishing in the warm weather, finally getting to wear a short sleeved officer’s uniform instead of the rain gear. which, incidentally, showed off the thee-quarter tattoo sleeve on one arm, and the half sleeve on the other. the woman’s comment brought a little furrow to his brow.  “ i’m... not sure what statement sleeves are. do mine count as ‘statement sleeves’? ” he asked, confusion and slight concern marking his expression. 

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My body is like a temple. Well, more like a Catholic church. Full of wine and bread.

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Be always drunken. Nothing else matters: that is the only question. If you would not feel the horrible burden of Time weighing on your shoulders and crushing you to the earth, be drunken continually.

Charles Baudelaire (via ssgtsawyer-archive)

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one more cup of coffee, one more cigarette one more look at things i’ve done i wish i never did if peace is what i’m after i’m Going nowhere fast and i must be holding this map upside down i need something that feels solid

what good are second chances when the habit’s in your blood what good is freedom when you can’t see your way out

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But in times of trouble I can turn to my mother And I know that she gon’ understand So at age 18, I cried to my mother And she told me, “young man” “There are moments when you fall to the ground But you are stronger than you feel you are now You don’t always have to speak so loud, no Just be as you are” 

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I got sins that scold like my throat when I hit the bottle; And I’m sinking and that’s why I keep on drinking. I need a refill, far more than once every weekend. Sweet Jesus, I’m getting amnesia— Shaking ‘til I get a taste, my faith is having seizures.