I Blame You For Making Me Feel,

The two girlies who listen to my daily RR, I pray nothing but peace, happiness, laughter, success and good health for them.

Y'all ever wanna distance yourself from your favourite people as soon as you feel like they are gonna hurt you when they actually wouldn't but you wouldn't take the risk to get hurt by them?

Can I talk to you about my love for Alan Walker for 15 hours straight and call it a date pls?

Hey (with the intention of wearing your initial on a chain 'round my neck not because you own me but cause you really know me)

You wouldn't feel like eating when a feeling eats you from inside.

do not text me unless this is ur intention

Meet me, I'm half a daughter, half an apology.

Tumblr walkers exist?!? THEY ARE SO NICE WTH⁉️💞 ~59770

I'on need someone like Ghost, I NEED GHOST.

simon ‘ghost’ riley is a light sleeper. he’s so well trained to be on high alert that even when he’s not on duty he wakes at the smallest sound.

sometimes you’ll get up in the middle of the night and he immediately sits up. “you alright?” he slurs.

you make a small sound of discomfort or wiggle a little too much and his head is turning on the pillow, his eyes on you. and he always asks if you’re okay. you’ve told him he’s being silly and sometimes you just have to get up to go to the bathroom, but you gave up on telling him that—he’s adamant on checking on you.

and anytime he wakes up, no matter where the disturbance comes from, he’s looking over to your side of the bed to make sure you’re okay first.

and if you ever do need him in the middle of the night, all you have to do is whisper his name. he opens his eyes almost immediately and instinctively tightens his arm around you. “everythin’ alright?”

and one time you couldn’t sleep. your face was buried in his chest as he clung to you, the soft rumble of his snores letting you know he was knocked out. you didn’t want to wake him, but you were crying. you barely even moved as you teared up into his chest. suddenly, his hands squeezed you tighter. “whats’a matter?” he coos softly.

you tilt your head up to him teary eyed. “i didn’t mean to wake you.”

he clicks his tongue. “tell me what’s wrong, baby.” his hand gently caressing your face, tucking loose strands of hair behind your ear.

and he’s so protective. if you roll over and out of his hands he’s quick to pull you back into his grip. he likes having his hands on you while he’s sleeping. it makes him feel more secure knowing you’re okay.

when you fall asleep together on the sofa, your body pressed to his, his arms are wrapped around your waist, clutching you closely against him. it doesn’t even matter if he’s too warm, he wants you touching him at all times whenever he’s asleep.

it’s gotten to the point where he can barely sleep when he’s not with you. without you safely in his arms, without being able to physically feel you under his fingertips, it continuously wakes him up. he’s lucky to get two hours in a row without waking.

post that inspired this | my cod masterlist

At the end of the day, it's not the boy that made you write poems either with tears in your eyes, or blood on your wrists or both.

It's the one that made you love the idea of living like a kid in this crucial world, where death seemed the perfect way to escape the reality to everyone but you, as his love brought you nothing but peace.