There Are So Many Pieces Of You I See In Myself. So Many Slivers Of Your Soul That Slipped Into Mine.

it wasn't an unusual night, not by far. as much as he tried to sleep normally on his days off, it just didn't work. and most times, he didn't want it to work. it was just... easier to sleep during the day. and the dogs hadn't been taken out in a while. sure, they had the backyard, but that wasn't the same as the park. and the world seemed scrubbed clean after the storm. other than feeling achingly alone, slightly broken, and on edge from a nightmare, it was kind of a nice night... 

he cocked his arm back and threw the ball across the wide, open lawn. his flashlight shined across the field, crossing briefly across a figure that surprised him. his heartrate leapt, and the appearance of another person only made him feel more on edge. some of that was eased as another dog ran after the ball and his own pups.  " hello? " he called out lamely, not wanting to ignore the other unknown person in the park at 2am.

@beautifulburnout

hinemoanax:

Kora just about jumps out of their skin when they hear a noise on the porch of their shitty little bungalow. They were curled up on the sofa watching what was probably the tenth Inuyasha episode of the night (they’d lost control of their life a long time ago). They should’ve been asleep as they had an early start for school, but a dream about drowning had cut the whole sleep thing short. That whole crushing-darkness, burning lungs and numb limbs schtick really didn’t float their boat. Waking up in a cold sweat with that anxiety-slash-nausea-slash-panic feeling in their throat didn’t help either.

Kora slinks off the sofa when there’s a knock at the door, pausing their show as they let the blanket snake down their legs to fall on the floor. They scuttle over to the door - they spend a moment trying to peak out the window at whoever just jumpscared them, but between the flyscreens, the bars and the dirt (they didn’t clean the outside of the house, fam) they couldn’t make out shit. The broken porch light didn’t help in the slightest. 

They sink the chain before they crack the door open, just enough to peak out, squinting in the low light.

“Uh. Hi?”

[ @theprodigalsoldier ]

he was a cop. he was a good cop. good at his job, and cared a whole fucking lot. and he didn’t want to put that in jeopardy. and yet... his fighting had started getting worse recently. along with his drinking. it was something he refused to examine, or acknowledge, or deal with. so it just kept getting worse. usually, he could chalk up the after affects of his scraps as bumps and bruises he got on the job, or while sparing in the gym. but— this was a little more severe than a black eye. and why he was showing up at kora’s place way too god damn late. he couldn’t go to anyone else with this, because they’d make him go to the hospital. and he couldn’t risk the PD finding out. he felt bad coming by like this, with request for such a huge favor... but something told him kora would help. 

“ heyyy, kora, ” he said quietly, holding a towel against the wound on his lower back.  “ i’m real sorry for comin’ so late like this. but, you were closest, and i— uh, i need your help. if you don’t like blood... tell me now, and i’ll go. ”

the duality of man. ( aka tag dump )

#dork

tatemcallisterr:

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. 

yeah, he knew that feeling well. too well. it made his chest ache for his friend. and it made him angry that he didn’t know how to help tate. especially when tate was so adverse to help.  “ they say therapy is supposed to... i dunno. do somethin’, ya know? ” the suggestion was tentative and gentle, like he knew tate wouldn’t respond well to it. but he had to try. there had to be something. even if talking didn’t help the famously tight-lipped man, maybe there was something else they could recommend. at least, that’s what jaxon hoped.  “ yer liver being fucked up doesn’t sound like ‘not a big deal’. and that fuckin’ sucks. who else is gonna appreciate shitty whiskey with me? ” he teased gently, a small smirk flickering at the corner of his lips. “ oh, we got a friend in common. jonny. maybe in place of drinkin’, get stoned with him. ” the suggestion was only half serious, and the light in jaxon’s eyes said as much. he was trying to be helpful. trying to make tate feel like there was a little hope. despite how fucking tired he felt. 

punsandgun:

“wait! lemme guess,” darby mused as she attempted to put her walkie on her shoulder, on the correct side this time. she was still getting use to what to do and when to do it. being a rookie was harder than some people believed. thankfully she had jaxon around. her buddy from the big apple. “elvis?” she offered sarcastically. impersonators were the best. she was slightly sad that she never got her own impersonator. who wanted to impersonate an olympic gymnast. “aw thanks bud,” she replied in appreciation at the coffee. her daughter definitely kept her on her toes but she loved it. “and i saw a drag swayze on friday at The Garage. Man I miss that guy.”

after checking he had everything, he gave darby a once over (maybe twice) to make sure she was ready too. today, she was. there’s been plenty of days that she wasn’t. but darby was learning, and getting better, and jax was a little bit proud.  “ well... i mean. yeah. usually. ten bucks that we stop and interview an elvis today, ” he replied with a wry little grin. it was too easy to joke around with darby, even when he didn’t feel particularly cheery.  “ you got an exciting night life, kid, ” he replied, the amusement in his eyes though he couldn’t manage a laugh.  “ c’mon. this is serious. jonny’s in vegas. i saw him couple nights ago... ”

@tatemcallisterr