Theprodigalsoldier:

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

Best of the Mikaelsons on TVD - 42 / ∞

Tate McAllister moodboard 001

“Death is not the greatest loss in life. The greatest loss is what dies inside us while we live.” - Norman Cousins

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. 

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.”