Some quiet moments for your ships

berrybird:

  • Reading together. Gently running their fingers through the other’s hair as they read to them in a soft voice. Silently listening to the other as their voice slowly falls into a natural rhythm and they are immersed in the story they’re bringing to life. 
  • Walking together. Interwoven fingers and shoulders brushing together as they walk. Not even needing to speak, because a simple look or the slightest change in body language is already a conversation. 
  • Sleeping together. Hushed breathing and feather-light touches when one wakes before the other. Rolling over and unconsciously curling closer into each other because even when they sleep, they are in love.
  • Watching TV together. Volume turned up just enough to be heard without dominating the atmosphere. Absentminded little touches, gentle fingers slowly running over the other’s arm or thigh without realizing it.
  • Stargazing together. Infinite space spread out above them, little pinpoints of light shining overhead. Hands resting close together, shared body heat warding off the night’s chill. Silent wishes being made in between soft whispers to each other. 
reblog ♡ 4 years ago ♡ 33,040 notes
  • Laurens:
    We agreed that’s how we’d raise our kids.
  • Alexander:
    Our kids? John, we’re not married.
  • Laurens:
    Dude, we’re a little married.
  • Alexander:
    I know, I love it.
reblog ♡ 4 years ago ♡ 781 notes
“when he died
the gods should have placed him
among the stars
not forgotten
in the ground.”
the gods were unkind to you / j.m  (via thedestrcyer)
reblog ♡ 4 years ago ♡ 7,236 notes

justmusingshere:

I wish I could take your NIGHTMARES away
Give you MY nice dreams

If I could have the NIGHTMARES instead of you
If you could have nice dreams instead of ME

I would PREFER to never sleep well again
Just so that YOU can rest peacefully

reblog ♡ 4 years ago ♡ 13 notes
“…dusk is falling, I love you.”
Marina Tsvetaeva, in a letter to Rainer Maria Rilke, from Letters Summer 1926: Pasternak, Tsvetaeva, Rilke
(via luthienne)
reblog ♡ 4 years ago ♡ 4,280 notes
“combahee”

he looks AHEAD and sees the world in front of him, banishing the feeling of FEAR as he watches a row of guns steadily aim at him, commanded to fire the moment he gets in close proximity,

he bucks in his saddle, bracing himself and closes his EYES as

bang

a bullet pierces through his

bang

right shoulder followed by another and

bang.

reblog ♡ 4 years ago ♡ 4 notes