I Don’t Know How To Stay Tender With This Much Blood In My Mouth

I just feel so angry, all the time. What if after everything that I’ve been through, something’s gone wrong inside me?

J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix (via slyherin)

knoxaf:

                  For the majority of that hour Knox was busy playing Panda Pop. The night was pretty dull for the most part; until he was notified of someone coming to sleep off the alcohol in their system. Knox sighs and starts to get shit ready for another cell to be occupied. 

“You look rough– want a wet wipe or somethin’ like that?” Knox offered as he’s setting the small box of apple juice and crackers at an accessible area. “Uh, the fridge has been right fucked for the last couple days. Meaning we couldn’t refrigerate our drinks. Hence everything bein’ room temp.”

@tatemcallisterr

One would think having a very close friend that works in the police department would get him out of things like spending the night in a cell sleeping off the alcohol he had just consumed. And yet here he was, doing just that. Tossing his shoes across the cell he practically glared at the officer that was babysitting him for the night. “No, I don’t want a fucking wet wipe.” He had slept in far worse conditions than the state he was in now. Letting out a sigh Tate looked over at the provisions left for him. “Damn. I was really looking forward to my gourmet meal being nice and cold. This night is just full of disappointment.” 

I am troubled and harsh and hopeless. Though I have love inside me. But I don’t know how to use love. Sometimes it scratches like barbs.

Clarice Lispector, tr. by Elizabeth Lowe, from Água Viva / The Stream of Life (via violentwavesofemotion)

theprodigalsoldier:

they’d been through a lot together— overseas, fighting side by side, and abroad, fighting each other. but after years, and months of trying to repair things, tate was coming around, and their friendship had slowly started to rebuild. thank fucking god. jaxon folded his arms on the tabletop, giving tate a quick once over. he knew the look well. on tate, on himself, on other veteran friends. it worried him. but even more, he worried that he wouldn’t be able to help.  “ she looks much better in a skirt than me, i can promise you that, ” he teased gently, trying to fight the sympathy from his smile. tate didn’t need that.  “ couldn’t sleep, because…— ” he trailed off, but the tension in his expression spoke enough. it was the reason jaxon worked graveyard. those nightmares were easier for him to deal with when he slept during the day. but he knew tate’s nightmares manifested worse than his did.  “ does anything help? ” 

as much as tate hated to admit it, jaxon knew him better than probably anyone else on earth. they had been through a lot together throughout their friendship, quite a bit more than a normal friendship could handle. tate knew that jaxon had been through and still dealt with some of the same things he was currently going through, maybe not as intensely but still. he knew it was why jaxon preferred to work at night and sleep during the day. even when tate tried to sleep during the day he was jolted awake by the nightmares. finally setting his fork down he rested his elbows on the table and let out a heavy sigh as his gaze met jaxon’s. “because every time damn i close my eyes i’m back over there. except it’s fucking worse.” he shook his head, putting his head in his hands. it made him angry when he thought about it --- it made him feel weak and god, he hated feeling weak. “alcohol helps. i’m not supposed to be drinking though.”