Tatemcallisterr-blog

Those who are heartless once cared too much.

Unknown (via wordsnquotes)

theprodigalsoldier:

jaxon fully expected that reaction. even their issues in the past couldn’t erase the countless nights they spent on patrol together, and jaxon knew tate. then and now. they’d both changed in ways they hated to think about. he sighed to himself, and sat up a little straighter, leaning his elbows on the table and closer in.  “ look, man. i get it, okay? i don’t talk to them about my shit either. ‘cause i really don’t fuckin’ wanna drag all that shit up. but… they got counselors, who just give you suggestions, ya know? like they recommended me to a training program for my dogs, so they can help when i get overwhelmed. and they gave me a list of things to try when i’m in a bad place. jus’— somethin’ to think about, ” he shrugged, trailing off as he leaned back and sipped at his iced tea. it wasn’t something he wanted to pressure tate into. but he also didn’t want tate to blindly block out everything that had a possibility of helping. “ well i hope yer liver relaxes, ” jax replied, just barely smiling, hoping to get tate to relax some too.  “ yeah… we were best friends all through high school. remember i told you, how he went away to art school, got involved in sketchy shit, and we had a falling out. that’s jonny. same jonny you know, apparently. but smoking does help with the sleep thing. while your liver is healing, ya know? plus, i’d pay good money t’ see you stoned out of yer mind. ”

“I don’t need suggestions, alright? Especially not from people who don’t know shit about what I’ve been through.” Tate snapped, his tone coming off a little more harsh and a little more loud than he had originally planned. Of course getting all worked up so quickly about the mere suggestion of a little bit of help didn’t exactly make it seem like he didn’t need the help. But nonetheless, it was true. How could anyone who had no idea what it was like to go through the things he did make any kind of suggestion on what to do to help? Tate closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and leaning back in his seat. “I’m fine.” He said, this time a bit more calm. “I haven’t been back that long. I’m still adjusting.” That’s what he kept telling himself anyways. Every night that he was jolted awake by a nightmare or every time something brought on a flashback, he convinced himself it was just because he hadn’t been back from the hospital but a few months. It was easier than admitting he might really need the help and suggestions everyone kept offering. “Yeah, me too.” Tate replied softly. As Jaxon went on he started to remember the stories the older male had told him about Jonny. Although he never assumed it was the same Jonny he knew, it did make sense now that he was thinking about it. “Right right, I remember. You been hanging out again then? I mean, now that he’s back?” Tate wondered, rolling his eyes slightly. “I feel like it wouldn’t be as entertaining as you think. I mean, you’ve seen me eat and sleep and that’s probably all I would do high.”

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?”

✉️ | DANNIE & TATE

dannie: ha. i feel that.

dannie: not much changes for me in terms of that shit.

dannie: were you around for that crazy storm?

tate: i don't blame you for that.

tate: yeah, i was. i walked around in it for a few hours. until jaxon found me, then he made me go inside.

I drank because I wanted to drown my sorrows. But now the damned things have learned to swim.

Frida Kahlo (via doll)