It’s a 2am surprise: The Tortured Poets Department is a secret DOUBLE album. ✌️ I’d written so much tortured poetry in the past 2 years and wanted to share it all with you, so here’s the second installment of TTPD: The Anthology. 15 extra songs. And now the story isn’t mine anymore… it’s all yours. 🤍 https://taylor.lnk.to/ttpd-theanthology
The Tortured Poets Department. An anthology of new works that reflect events, opinions and sentiments from a fleeting and fatalistic moment in time - one that was both sensational and sorrowful in equal measure. This period of the author’s life is now over, the chapter closed and boarded up. There is nothing to avenge, no scores to settle once wounds have healed. And upon further reflection, a good number of them turned out to be self-inflicted. This writer is of the firm belief that our tears become holy in the form of ink on a page. Once we have spoken our saddest story, we can be free of it.
And then all that’s left behind is the tortured poetry.
THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT is out now.
The first single from The Tortured Poets Department is…………. Fortnight featuring @postmalone 🤍 I’ve been such a huge fan of Post because of the writer he is, his musical experimentation and those melodies he creates that just stick in your head forever. I got to witness that magic come to life firsthand when we worked together on Fortnight. Honestly can’t wait for you guys to hear this song at Midnight TONIGHT and see the video at 8pm ET TOMORROW.
forafortnight.com
At this hearing, I stand before my fellow members of The Tortured Poets Department with a summary of my findings.
Album tonight.
Fortnight music video tomorrow at 8pm et.
Flamingo pink Sunrise Boulevard Clink, clink Being this young is art
FIVE STAGES OF GRIEF ⸺ Playlists curated by Taylor Swift
rickgrimesxfem!reader
summary: Rick calms you down after your social anxiety takes over during the Alexandria welcome party.
word count: 1,2k.
warnings: panic attack, social anxiety, not proofread.
People. Too many people. The crowd was a sea of unknown faces, each one lost in the chaos of the moment.
The noise was deafening, even to your half-numbed senses. A constant uproar seemed to fill every inch of available space, and that, you just could not handle.
You felt yourself becoming overwhelmed, unable to process the sensory overload that was assaulting you on all sides. You struggled to make sense of the chaos around you, and you felt your heart start to race as panic set in.
The clingy, ebony-colored dress you half-heartedly wore had never felt as suffocating as it did now. The silky fabric was glued to your increasingly sweaty skin, making it hard to breathe. And your heart hammered violently in your chest.
Were you having a heart attack? No, that couldn't be it, could it?
lazy kisses in the morning with rick grimes
You stirred as you felt the bed dip with new weight. You hadn’t even noticed he had left, but Rick made his presence known as he slowly climbed back under the comforter. The sunlight peeked in through the sheer curtains, turning the white sheets a faint shade of gold. You glanced over to the clock on the bedside table, sighing as you realized you slept in. You moved to sit up but were stopped and held down by the weight of Rick’s arm over your chest.
“Stay.” He commanded, his voice quiet but firm. You laid back down, weighed down by him as he adjusted himself to rest his head on your shoulder with his arm anchoring you down as it rested along your chest. You appeased him for a minute or two, watching as his back rose and fell with his even breathing as he seemingly fell back asleep before your mind began to list all of the things you needed to do.
You placed a gentle hand on Rick’s bare shoulder, softly speaking, “Rick, darling, I need to get up. The kids-”
“Already fed. Carl’s watching Judith, don’t worry.” Rick cut you off with a mumble, placing a strong hand on your waist to turn you towards him. “There’s food still on the stove for whenever we get up.”
Now lying on your side, you were face-to-face with Rick. You couldn’t help but softly smile, moving your hands to cup his face. His eyes fluttered open, revealing his blue eyes that met your own. He whispered, “Stay.”
You nodded, your thumbs brushing along the short hairs below his cheekbone as you tenderly cupped his jaw. You slowly leaned in, placing a gentle kiss on the corner of his mouth. You slowly leaned back, meeting his eyes again. You then leaned in, turning your head slightly to place a gentle kiss on the space of his neck below his jawline. You leaned back, before leaning in again. As if he could read your mind, his eyes fluttered shut as you placed one last light kiss on his eyelid.
As you leaned back, Rick’s eyes slowly opened again. With a small smile, Rick leaned in to do the same, beginning by placing a soft kiss on the corner of your lips. Just as slow and mild as you did before, he followed with a gentle kiss on your neck just below your jawline, then your eyelid.
Now simply staring into one another’s eyes, you and Rick let your eyes flutter closed as you slowly leaned in until your lips gently met. Slowly and lazily moving, neither bothered to deepen the kiss just yet. Rick’s hands just moved to grab your waist, slipping under your loose sleep shirt as your hands rested on his bare chest. A slow, loving morning only Alexandria could bring.
Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • It doesn’t go unnoticed how much you put your love into everyone in the group. Especially the Grimes’ kids. Daryl could only wish you’d take care of yourself • TW: Canon Violence / Sleep Deprivation / Anxiety / Over-Protectiveness
Requested by: Anon
The woods were quiet, the only sound being the crunch of leaves underfoot as you and Daryl followed the tracks of a deer. The air was fresh with the scent of pine and earth, a peacefulness that belied the tension simmering just beneath the surface.
Daryl, usually so sure and steady, seemed out of his element. His eyes darted to your hand, then away, as if the very thought of reaching out was a battle with his own instincts. You could almost hear his thoughts, a series of ‘what ifs’ and uncertainties that held him back.
The silence stretched on, punctuated by the occasional call of a distant bird or the rustle of wildlife in the underbrush. Daryl’s hand hovered near yours, a hesitant dance of shadows in the sunlight. He was a warrior, a survivor, but in this moment, he was also human, vulnerable.
Finally, as you paused to examine a broken twig, Daryl managed to build enough courage to make a move. His hand moved closer, slowly, deliberately, until his fingers brushed against yours. It was a fleeting touch, but it spoke volumes. And then, with a quiet determination, he laced his fingers through yours.
Cuddle For Warmth
Daryl Dixon x Female Reader
Summary: Cold nights and shared sleeping bags.
TW: Fluff, pre-established relationship, cuddling.
You collapsed in a heap on the couch next to Daryl, who looked over in surprise. Everyone else had gone to bed ages ago but you had only just got home and by the look of you it’d been a tough day outside the walls.
“Ya alrigh’?” he asked. Secretly, he’d been waiting up for you, but he was using making some new bolts for his crossbow as an excuse.
You sighed and rubbed your hands over your face, pressing your palms into your eyes for a long moment. Daryl noticed that all your knuckles were grazed. “Yeah. Just… tough day. Almost everything that could go wrong, did go wrong. Well—except I made it back and I am still alive. So there’s that,” you sighed, sinking back into the deep couch cushions, exhaustion quickly settling over you heavily.
Daryl was appraising you. “Mm. Ya wanna talk about it?”
You shook your head, your eyes closed. “No. I’m almost too tired to think.”
He nodded, and hummed a response again. His blue eyes studied you for a moment before he spoke again. “I’m gonna get a kit for your hands. We should clean up those scrapes.”
“Huh? Oh.” You held your hands out in front of you, catching sight of the abrasions for the first time. You hadn’t even noticed them.
Daryl left and returned quickly with what he needed to at least get your hands cleaned up and you murmured your thanks as he worked gently. “Sounds like ya had a day like that time Rick and I met Jesus. When that truck went into the pond,” he said.
You laughed lightly and bit your bottom lip thoughtfully, nodding. “Yeah, you know… it was kind of like that. I didn’t lose an entire truck but… not far off.”
“Well,” he drawled, setting aside the used first aid supplies, “’m just glad yer okay.”
You smiled at him. “Will you run away with me?” you asked, again sinking back into the couch, your eyelids heavy.
Daryl looked stunned for a moment and then laughed, a low, chesty sound you loved to pull from him. “Where would we go?”
You shrugged. “I don’t care. Anywhere. I’d go anywhere with you, Daryl.”
He ducked his head, feeling his cheeks burn a little with a blush. “I think maybe ya should sleep on that… ya’ve had a day.”
Your smile widened. “I’ll ask you again tomorrow. My mind won’t have changed.”
Prompt: “Will you run away with me?” / “Where would we go?” / “I don’t care. Anywhere.”
PLEASE REBLOG if you (male or female) believe it is perfectly okay and natural for a guy of any age to cry
hi bae ! if you’re comfortable with writing a forced proximity with daryl when him an reader are friends that would be so cuteeee
Summary ➳ After nearly a week without proper shelter on a run, you both finally found a house, only to realize there’s one bed.
(A/n) ➳ Wasn’t sure if this what forced proximity means since the first thing that came to mind was the one bed troupe, my favorite. If you want to request again, please don’t hesitate!
Word Count ➳ 670
Content Warnings ➳ Female Reader, fluff, mentions of death/corpse, sleep deprivation, light swearing, One Bed Troupe…
Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • Y/N finally found a place to sleep and Daryl was going to hit anybody that disturbs her • SFW • TW: Sleep Deprivation
Requested by: Anon
A/N: A right of passage- sticking the reader character into the 'Andrea shot Daryl' scene :) Reader goes OFF on her, so be prepared lol. Sorry if you love Andrea
Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem! Reader
WC: ~4k
Warnings: talk of Daryl's injuries, falling down the cliff, Walker attack- nothing too graphic; Andrea shooting Daryl but just grazing him; mentions of gore/blood- nothing too graphic; angst, comfort, fluff, cuddling; Daryl being sassy; reader character fighting with Andrea (yelling match)
Summary: You confront Andrea after she shoots Daryl, thinking he's a walker. With your anger taken out on her, you then comfort Daryl as he spends the night in the Greene farmhouse.
You heard the gunshot. Everyone on the farm did. You just didn’t know exactly what had happened.
Following Lori’s lead, you jogged around the house, hoping it wasn’t another accident like the one that almost killed Carl. It was a single shot. Why would anyone risk a lone round out in the open like this? On this beautiful farm.
Once you circled the house, landing in a clump of Herschel’s family and a few others from your group, all you saw was sun. Its rays were blinding yellow as they cut over the tall, deep treeline on the edge of the meadow. It was the middle of a gorgeous day.
You heard Rick scream. It was a booming, worried thing. Then he screamed again.
Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 3.5K
Warnings: Violence, Walker death, other TWD character death (Amy), Daryl being a bit of a jerk and then fixing it, let me know if there's anything else! Basically what seems to be regular TWD fanfic warnings. Also I believe this is only Fem!Reader because he calls Reader "girl."
Summary: A retelling of the night walkers attack at the quarry and how you and Daryl help each other deal with the aftermath.
You tried to remember the last time you’d eaten fish. It had been a while, a few weeks maybe? A few long weeks forcing yourself to eat squirrel or a rabbit if you were lucky. Or if you were unlucky, even snake. You’d eat whatever was caught if you were hungry enough, or simply to stay alive another day.
