✉️ | DANNIE & TATE

Those who are heartless once cared too much.

Unknown (via wordsnquotes)

myhemsworth:

Surfing in Malibu [April 8th; 2017].

— What is your problem? — Who knows, I have so many.

Daniel C. L. (via alterated)

beautifulburnout:

Jonny was that strange mix of morning and night person. Of course that was mostly due to the insomnia he suffered from most of his life, but it didn’t really get to him now. He was up early enough that he needed coffee and a lot of it. The bell to the diner rang as he pushed through it. He expected to see it empty besides the staff but a familiar face sat at one of the tables and Jonny approached with concern. Tate didn’t even look at him and he honestly humored the idea of going to grab him more coffee but he didn’t want to encourage his antisocial tendencies either. Instead Jonny joined him at the table with an amused arch of his brow. “You know most people eat when they order food,” he pointed out and when the waitress joined them Jonny ordered. “Another cup of coffee for him and one for me to start, thanks.” He smiled at her before turning back to his companion. He didn’t want to ask what was wrong because he already knew Tate was going through a rough time, so instead he just sat back and plucked the toast from his plate and started crunching it. 

Six months ago Tate could have put away three times this much food in about half the time. But lately he had a hard time focusing on anything, let alone eating a meal. Since he had been back in Vegas he probably lost fifteen pounds, only adding to his run down and exhausted look. Glancing down at his plate before looking across the table at Jonny he just shrugged. “I guess I’m not as hungry as I thought I was.” Pursing his lips he dropped the fork onto his plate and leaned back in his booth while his friend chowed down on his toast. Normally he would have made some comment about Jonny not eating his food, but Tate just simply didn’t have the energy. The waitress returned with their coffee in hand and Tate immediately picked up the cup and took a sip of the hot liquid before thanking the woman quietly as she walked away from them once again. “You’re out and about early.” Tate comments, his hands still wrapped around the warmth of his cup of coffee. 

                         “ Why are you always so pessimistic? “

    —– “ вecaυѕe… тнen, ιт doeѕn’т HURT ѕo                мυcн wнen everyтнιng   F A L L S   A P A R T. “

why should i resolve things peacefully when i can fucking punch you in the face

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?”