Pearls: What's Something About Your Personality That Surprises Others?

Best of the Mikaelsons on TVD - 42 / ∞

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.”

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

I punched a wall. And then I punched it a few more times. It was the first time I felt anything all day.

(via 50shades-of-you-and-i)

theprodigalsoldier:

while there was a large part of him that still really enjoyed fighting… he didn’t enjoy getting “caught”. but he could breathe easy, and his thoughts didn’t feel unmanageable. with all of that, it was hard to regret the decisions he made and the actions he’d carried out. despite the bleeding. jaxon scoffed at tate’s comment, licking at his split lip and screwing the cap back onto his flask.  “ some think th’ blood makes me look tough, ” he shrugged. “ and girls jus’ wanna patch me up. so. ” he chuckled dryly, sitting up a little straighter despite the ache soreness in his shoulders. “ supposed to. and yer not supposed t’ be drinkin’. yet here we are, ” he pointed at, offering up his flask to tate.  “ will it help if i tell you th’ guy was a creep? ”

Tate could understand why Jaxon fought. He probably got about the same feeling Tate did when he got into an occasional bar fight. Relief. Although Tate didn’t have nearly as much to lose as Jaxon --- his job, for one. He let out a dry laugh, shaking his head. “Or dumb.” He didn’t mean to say that out loud, but it was too late now. He was definitely drunk already. “Maybe I should get in fights more often.” He joked, leaning back on the bench and letting out a heavy sigh at the mention of the fact that he wasn’t supposed to be drinking. “Fair enough.” He shrugged, accepting the flask from Jaxon and unscrewing it. “Sure, I guess.” Tate paused. “I’m the last person who can judge you, man. Fight whoever you want, it’s your face.”