Why Is Rage The Only Emotion I’m Good At Feeling

shvdykiid:

Finally taking another look at the male and Oliver stops. “Are you fucking photoshopped? “ Oliver gets the feeling this guy leaves broken hearts all over the damn place and Ollie-kins ain’t mad. “Uh– look I’ll give you my number. I could pay for the repair, just let me know where you’re going to get it done.”

Tate looks down at the other, momentarily confused. “--- Excuse me?” He sighed before shaking his head when he looked back down at his phone again. Even if he wanted to fix the damn thing, he didn’t know anything about where to take it. “It’s fine, I guess. I probably won’t even get it fixed, don’t worry about it. Thanks though.” 

I think he’s very lonely. Lonelier than he lets on. Maybe lonelier than he even realizes.

The Royal Tenenbaums (2001), Dir. Wes Anderson (via catholicraised)

If only hell didn’t feel like home.

intpthinkinginquiet  (via wordsnquotes)

beautifulburnout:

When Tate agreed to his offer Jonny was just about ready to launch into a speech about taking help when you needed it but instead he ended up blinking in surprise. A smile slowly spread across his features and the artist set his coffee mug down with a soft thud. “Well, alright then.” He dug into his wallet and set some cash down on the table, giving Tate’s uneaten and now cold breakfast a nod. “My treat. C’mon.” Jonny stood to head outside and pushed through the door with a jingle of the bell. He didn’t want to give Tate a chance to change his mind, especially when he really though that this would end up helping him. “I walked, I don’t live far. Ya on your feet or are we taking your rig?” His hand slipped into his pocket and Jonny placed a vaping rig to his lips before blowing out a big cotton candy scented cloud. “We might wanna stop and get some munchies either way. Ya might not be hungry now, but ya will be.”

It was pretty clear that Jonny was surprised Tate had agreed so easily. Not that he blamed him, he’d be surprised too. Although Tate hadn’t expected to be leaving right that second, he wasn’t going to complain. It wasn’t like he had any plans. Plus, there wasn’t exactly anything left for him in the diner. No appetite kind of made staying there any longer redundant. So he mumbled a ‘thanks’ when Jonny paid for his meal and followed him outside the door. Tate shook his head in response to Jonny’s question. “I took a cab here. Too tired to drive or walk.” He glanced over at Jonny and then thought for a moment. “Do you want to just order a pizza? Or is that not a normal thing to do?” He shrugged. “Or we can stop somewhere, I don’t really care.”

liamgaleehemsworth:

new @liamhemsworth in a photoshoot @randallslavin via Instagram

theprodigalsoldier:

@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. 

Tate should not be out, let alone going to a bar but at this point he didn’t care. He’d run out of alcohol in his house and his favorite liquor store wasn’t open this late ironically. In hind’s sight, drinking the last of the whiskey in his house probably should have been a sign to just stop drinking. But two glasses wasn’t nearly enough to get him drunk enough to fall asleep. After getting a combined fifteen hours of sleep the last few days, he thought maybe the only way to fall asleep was to get drunk enough to just pass out. Which deep down he knew was a horrible idea and just an excuse to drink, but that wasn’t the point. As he approached the bar and recognized the figure sitting outside it seemed fate was not going to let him get drunk tonight. “Well, you look like shit.” He spoke up upon getting a closer look at his friend. Taking a seat next to Jaxon he let out a soft sigh. “Aren’t cops supposed to be the ones that break up fights?”

myhemsworth:

Surfing in Malibu [April 8th; 2017].