#carriyon

“everythin’  i  do  is  about  survival  and  keepin’  this  club  alive,”   jackson  insists,  sounding  a  little  more  defensive  than  intended.   “and  you  questionin’  that,  that’s  what i  don’t  like  hearin’,  brother.”   broad  shoulders  tense  beneath  the  leather  kutte,  pale  blue  eyes  studying  @carriyon’s  face  with  that  unwavering  intensity  of  a  man  who’s  not  only  self-righteous  but  also  spiraling  towards  madness.   control’s  slipping  through  his  fingers  and  he’s  desperately  trying  to  tighten  his  grip.   tara,  the  fractured  relationship  with  the  irish,  the  clay  aftermath…   everything  seems  to  be  coming  apart.   “what?”   he  snaps,  seated  at  the  head  of  the  table,  calloused  fingers  brushing  against  the  gavel,  rings  clanking.   his  jaw  tightens,  tongue  pressing  against  the  inside  of  his  cheek.   “you  think  i  wake  up,  wantin’  to  stack  up  more  bodies  on  our  doorstep?   you  think  i  don’t  see  it?   the  lines  we’re  crossin’?   that’s  why  i  made  that  deal  with  marks.”   didn’t  even  bring  it  to  the  table,  knew  the  table  would  have  resisted  it.   bypassed  the  irish.   “for  the  good  of  this  club.”    

cell phone headcanons send me “#” for cell phone headcanons about our muses including: - what your muse’s name is in mine’s phone  

Samallama

- what your muse’s picture is in mine’s phone

- what your muse’s ringtone is in mine’s phone

i don't smoke - mitski

- my muse’s last text to your muse

[ txt : samallama ] hey lady just needs like one can , i fed her before i went on shift . [ txt : samallama ] do not let her fool you . [ txt : samallama ] and I think I have leftover pho in the fridge . help yourself .

sender tucks the receiver's hair behind their ear. [02] - from jonathan // && @carriyon

DOCTORS HELP NO MATTER WHO THE PERSON IS OR WHAT THEY'VE DONE—it's a fact that she can't put out of her mind. His face is bruised , deep black and purple marks are already covering part of his face . What's worrying her is his eye and the the cut so close to the eyelid . Sometimes the blood builds up under the skin and needs to be asperated . It's a time will tell issue . She has to remember the chart that's sat across from her .

❝ You aren't the first man who's come here after a bar fight , and unfortunately , you wont be my last , ❞ her voice is smooth , dismissive almost . Igraine's eyes flick over toward the desk where she can see Quentin and Dylan . It's a brief moment before she's placing his shirt down on the ground . It wouldn't survive past the cleaners . She'd remember to grab him a scrub top to walk out in later .

Igraine is quick to walk around him checking for any wounds . There are plenty of scars that litter his torso , she noted , and moved on to his face . She's steered him straight into the seat so she can stand . Asher , she remembered his file , is too tall for her to be able to see him properly from where she is . ❝ Listen , I'm just happy you didn't stumble here drunk . That's the one refreshing thing , or I'd have to put you down , ❞ her smile is immediate and sweet , but the tone is under it that there is an understanding .

❝ I also hate to tell you this , but you can't bullshit a bullshitter and I was im in the army . . . I see it everyday . I am not going to file a police report , but if this was just a bar fight , you're missing a top layer of skin that a bullet took off , ❞ her tone is still light and testing the waters . She honestly doesn't care all that much to report him . But , she needs to know to keep him alive . ❝ Is it possible you could have been shot ? Adrenaline wears off and then you feel it . ❞

SAM & IGRAINE AT THE NURSES STATION @carriyon

🎤🎶 —— She hadn't needed anyone, not for a good while. It made her stubborn, she'll admit it freely. Sam's presence being comforting, however, that's going to take longer for her to be known out loud. At least, not right now. Because right now, Jane was annoyed. Being a grown woman, after all, she didn't need someone to hold her hand. She knew the stakes — ha — in coming here. But, as she said over the phone, numerous times from Merlotte's, on the drive over, and until she arrived, there was a very good reason for her taking this side gig.

Money.

Sam paid well and one of the better bosses she's had thus far in her life of servitude. But, some expenses were bigger than her current paychecks. Then this opportunity came, and not one to wait on tables, but to sing. How can she refuse that?

The urge to roll her eyes at his words of caution was great. She nearly did it, too, but all she could muster was a weary laugh, short and dismissive. "Gee, Sam. What if they're really cool and offer me candy? Am I supposed to turn that down?" Okay, that, she did roll her eyes. She couldn't help it! "I'm torn between thinking your overprotecting ass is being sweet or really condescending. I can take care of myself, but... If you want to stick around... Fine, but, give me some credit."