Tatemcallisterr-blog

theprodigalsoldier:

jaxon sighed at tate’s response— it was the one he expected. and feared. it seemed like no one left the war whole. physically, mentally, emotionally. they were all tainted and damaged, and nightmares fucked with sleep and sanity in a very special way. he wished he had an answer for tate. a way to help make them go away, or even ease them slightly. but fuck… he’d been searching for that answer for two years and had come up with very little.  “ hey, man. it’s alright. don’t think i’ve ever met a soldier that didn’t have nightmares. yer not alone there, ” he offered quietly, intimately familiar with feeling weak or broken for struggling like this. fuck, he still felt like that a lot. but it helped… knowing his brothers felt like it too.  “ why aren’t you supposed to be drinkin’? i thought you were all healed up. ”

It was hard to talk about, even with someone like Jaxon who could relate so strongly to what he was going through. That was a big reason Tate kept insisting he didn’t need to see a therapist or go to any support groups. Talking about things had never helped him deal with them anyways. “I know it’ll probably never go away completely ---- I just wish it would get better. I’m fucking tired.” Tate knew he wasn’t the first person to go to war and come back having nightmares about it, and he certainly wouldn’t be the last. But when he wakes up at night, alone, in an empty house, it’s hard not to feel isolated. “I am for the most part. Doc just found some problems with my liver when they were doing blood tests. It’s not a big deal.” At least that’s what his doctor had told him, it wouldn’t be a big deal as long as he didn’t drink so often. Which was proving difficult when it was his go-to coping mechanism. 

knoxaf:

“A fan?” Oh boy, Knox did not have the heart to tell… the hell is his name again? Leaning over to check the paper work on the desk; Tate. How was he going to tell Tate there was only a crappy air system in the building and no fans… He’s got an idea. “Say no more, I got you,” Knox replies a bit too fast. Picking up a blank piece of paper from the printer at the desk and Knox gets to work. After folding the paper and taking a staple to the end of it; he made a fan.

Oh, this guy was gonna kill him. Knox knows it or he might get a chuckle; he’s taking the risk. “This should work for you,” he spoke while getting up from his seat. Walking towards the cell and presented his hard work; a paper fan. “There is plenty more where this came from.”

Tate’s eyes stayed closed while he heard the officer rustle around, not paying much attention as he assumed he was fetching a fan. His head was pounding, the whole act of getting arrested sobering him up way too much for his own liking. The feeling of the cold wall in that cell was becoming a little too familiar and he let out a rather loud sigh. At the officer’s words he opened his eyes again, squinting at him in the sudden bright light until he realized he had just made a makeshift paper fan. “This is what my taxes pay for. Perfect.” He mumbled, not making a move to retrieve the paper fan. Instead Tate reached down and peeled his shirt off, completely forgetting about the scarring he normally made sure to cover up carefully. He was too drunk and too hot to care at this point. Leaning back once again, his eyes closed. The bright lights in the cell were not helping his pounding head.

why is rage the only emotion I’m good at feeling

liamgaleehemsworth:

new @liamhemsworth in a photoshoot @randallslavin via Instagram “ On set today with this monster @liamhemsworth Thanks, buddy”

supernaturaldaily:

#sasstiel

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