shake your bones

i fear you’ve lost your happiness and it terrifies me because you are so quiet about your pain and so quick to hide your wounds and i know you won’t reach out for help or a hand to hold. you’ll just ache and break and insist that you’re fine. but you see, me and you have the same wounds and scars in the very same places. you’ve welcomed me into your mind but still, you’ll tape a smile on your face so every single second of the day you never seem anything less than happy and i hate this because i see right through it. i see your ghosts and i hear them screaming and lingering around the halls. i want to talk to your ghosts, i want to shake hands with your achy bones. i want to know all of you and i am fully okay with the spider webs.
—  because when i say i’m here, i mean it. nothing can scare me away.

You curtsy back with a laugh before shaking your head.  “What god awful thing did you do this time, Negan?”

“Ya know what, that fuckin’ hurts my fuckin’ feelin’s.  Who the fuck says I did any-fuckin’-thing bad?”

“Beyond the shit-eating grin and bow?”  He was too charming for his own good…for your own good as you grip the lapels of his jacket and let your lips brush his.  “Give it up, big man, or I’ll have to get rough with ya.”

Negan’s pulls you up against his chest, his laugh shakes your bones, before his lips brand yours with a demanding kiss.  When he pulls back you’re both breathless.  “I got ya somethin’.”

“If you say your dick, I swear to god —” Another kiss stops you as he stuffs the gift into your hand.  You break the kiss, look down in shock.  “Oh my god!”

“Fuckin’ A,” he grins in pride.  “Did fuckin’ good, didn’t I?”

You smile up at him.  “Oh, you did very good.”

“Do I get fuckin’ prize?” He smirks, pressing into you.

“For this?  Abso-fucking-lutely,” you grin, pressing back.

“Fan-fuckin’-tastic!” He cheers, before yanking the Twinkie from your hand.  “This one’s mine,” he cheekily grins as he steps back, raising the treat high above your head to open it.

“Negan!”  You scold, laughing as he stuffs it in his mouth.

“Fuck me hard, these’re fuckin’ amazin’,” Negan declares, eyes nearly rolling back, before smiling down at you. “The rest in the truck are all yours, beautiful.”

Requested by @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash for my 500 Followers celebration.  Turned out cuter than I expected, but I couldn’t resist doing a bit of a throwback to my “Negan loves Twinkies” headcanon, lol!  Hope you like it!!

The details on this whole shindig is HERE.

All this talk about summer love and strawberry lips and golden skin and no one ever talks about loving when the sky is dark grey, about loving when the trees won’t stop shaking and the wind moans your name.

So let me tell you about loving when the streets are cold, when you wake to crisp morning air and tangled bodies. Let me tell you about the fog that escapes your mouth before you kiss; how it moves like ghosts dancing to ballads between open lips. Let me tell you about rose-red cheeks and rose-red noses and how good his chest feels when you’re trying to keep warm.

About rain pelting hard against your windshield and your heart pelting harder against your chest when his hands touch you. About how warm bodies feel when everything around you is cold. About how your bones shake like the trees and the powerlines and sweaters have never felt as good as they do when they smell just like him.

All this talk about summer love and no one ever talks about loving when you’re the only lit matches in a city made of ice.

—  Reena B.| November love.

anonymous asked:

Top 10 reasons to love Fox Mulder.

1. The way he leans towards you, into your, over you, chewing the inside of his lip and scrunching his eyebrows, and the way it makes you feel knowing that his intensified focus is directed towards you.

2. His legs, taking up all of the room on the plane, in the car, under the desk when you’re trying to find your way down between his legs and his knees keep knocking you in the side of the head as you giggle. But you never mind, you’ve always been small enough to compensate for his bigness.

3. You’ll never meet a man more confident in his beliefs, and yet still so open to those of others.

4. His voice, lulling you to sleep every evening and waking you up inside of a dream every morning. The first words that roll across his tongue in the mornings sound like thunder shaking the bones of your house, begging you to kiss the tiredness away.

5. His ability to allow himself to become open to vulnerability, and his understanding of the occasional necessity of this.

6. The way he feels and wants and loves bigger than anyone you have ever met. Every case he becomes emotionally attached to. Every family of a victim is given his personal phone number in case they need someone to talk about their loss. Every town he sleeps in becomes another home for him to reminisce when he is lonely. 

7. The tea tin you find in the floor in between his bedside table and his bed frame. You pick it up, intending to put it in the drawer of his nightstand so it doesn’t get lost, but end up opening it out of curiosity when you hear shuffling inside as you lift it. Inside are tickets. Hundreds and hundreds of plane tickets. As you start shuffling through, you realize that if you looked, you’d be able to find matching ones just like them somewhere in your own apartment. All of the places you have been together, nestled safely in this tiny box.

8. His unfaltering trust and support. When you were a child, you had your sister. Even after two separate lifetimes of growing in opposite directions, you could still read each others minds. When you lost her, it took you nearly three months before you realized that you had him. He rarely understands at first, but, God, he never stops trying to.

9. His hands. Resting protectively on the small of your back. Holding your shoulders, so narrow that his fingers meet at your spine, as gently as you would hold an injured bird. Gripping the hair at the base of your neck. Pressing into, bruising even, the porcelain skin of your hips. Tracing the slope of your nose downwards, catching on your bottom lip, the tip of his thumb slipping into your mouth. Holding your hand in his, always and always and always and always.

10. The way he loves you back. Everything you give to him he takes and consumes and loves and he uses it and takes it and amplifies it and hands it right back to you. Everyday you wake up, unsure of where your job will take you next. But you are always safe, warm in the blanket of his love. You never knew how greatly you needed a safety net until he volunteered his mind and his heart and his body for yours. You wonder if God made his hands so big to better hold and protect your little heart. 


(christmas drabbles ‘16)

You hated working in your cubical whenever you went to work. Translation: you hated the air conditioning there. Even nearing Christmas, it still doesn’t take away the maddening drop of temperature in here. Such level of coldness making you shake until your bones clatter even if you wear two jackets. Yes, it was that crazy.

It’s not like you could do anything, really. Your boss left no room for amendments with the temperature set and he forbids anyone to raise the temperature because it’s hot as fuck. But hello! It’s! December! He must be living under a rock, you think.

You say, out loud, scream… and nothing’s changed.

So you go to work with a huff, wrapped up to the second layer, you find there’s something odd on your table. Eyes narrowed to slits, you scan the area to take note of anything suspicious but nothing comes to mind and you only look like - “Y/N, what are you doing?”

You look over your shoulder to notice you’re in the middle of the walkway, holding up the rest of your co-workers to their cubical. Straightening your back with the clearing of your throat, you apologize and quickly make your way towards where the box is located on your table and you sit.

Carefully and quietly, you reach to touch the ribbons but before you undo it, you’re hollering: “Someone get 911 on standby in case this explodes!” (hey, you’ve seen the movies; there’s sick people in this world)

Upon hearing the faint got it! You flick the ribbons undone and lift the lid. Gasping at what it is, you drop the cover and once hearing do I need to dial it through? You reply with“Nope! Coast’s clear!” and what’s only clear is how pretty this knitted jumper is.

Delicacy in craft with every stroke and weave of the yarn, in a shade of burgundy that’s absolutely lovely, rich, and… and… the card that falls out makes you smile the most. Because you’re eager to slip it on you after removing your jackets and letting that fall to the ground. It fits you nicely over your tank top and you’re a grinning mess at the feeling of the material hugging your body.

To top it off, he sprayed it with his cologne.

And that grants you to miss him more. You didn’t know if it was a present or a torture trick.

So you call, to verify it.

“I don’t know if you did this to make me miss you more, or hate you because I can’t get ahold of you until a few more days,”

He laughs, and god, you miss him even more now. This is definitely more of a torture instead of a delightful gift. “I’m guessing you got it? Are you wearing it?”

“Yeah, and yeah. It smells just like you it’s crazy and- wait, this is what you’ve been working on? Your ‘secret project’ you won’t tell me about?”

“Hey, it was hard enough learning how to knit without you noticing. I couldn’t even tell the boys or else they’d try to get a peek on how it’s going from time to time and-you try to imagine the difficulties of making sure six barbarians don’t tear it apart in the man cave we live in,”

“…this is lovely, Seokjin. Thank you.”

“The Oro Jackson sailing true, Our Captain Bold and Free!
Grand Line ‘hold our fearsome ship, The man whos Will is D.!
A Fighting Lot our mangy crew, we fear no Davy Jones~
Our Captain is The Pirate King, his voice would shake your bones!
Silvers at the helm steadfast, Rosa at her Keel
Their blood they’d spill to keep us free; the pride it makes us feel!
For him we’d die a thousand deaths, out on this endless sea
Our Captain’s name is Roger, and his loyal crew are we!

Our flag known well throughout the seas, and soon your’s too, my son
You’ll fight the waves your Mother fought, until your Will is done.

And I will sail beside you still, no matter the course you choose
because you are my Pirate King, and you will never loose

Watch on

I would kill to be the cold. Tracing your body and shaking your bones.

For the Unrequited

If you fall and find a lack of hands
to catch your shaking bones
on your back look at the sky
for the strength a heart demands,
For in the night the stars do shine
jewels on Beauty’s breast
but in the daylight they are lost
and early eyes do not look west.


I could probably write about how your smile makes me feel as if sunlight is forever kissing my skin softly or how your laugh shakes every bone in my body and leaves me unable to recollect reality like you’re existence can only be my dream. I could write all day about your voice and how when you say my name it sounds like how falling in love feels like or how every good thing ive ever felt is a metaphor for what loving you is like.

- I could write about you forever

Dramione Fanfiction: The Fallout by everythursday

“When does life begin again?

After the fallout, when you wake up, when you realize that you are still alive. Do you shake out your bones, do you memorize the pulses of your blood? Do you ever stop feeling like you’re still in it, like you’ll never get out of it?

Maybe you hide from it. Maybe you keep it hidden under your skin, because it’s easier than facing it, because facing it is acknowledging what you have lost to get there. Maybe you throw it away, because you’re afraid, and it might kill you or restore you, but you don’t know. You can’t know.

Maybe it starts when the smoke begins to clear from a battle, when dawn lights up the faces of her side. Maybe it’s when Draco wakes up in a hospital bed instead of never waking up at all. When Ron will finally realize that she is really there, and when Harry finds that he no longer has to be a hero because he has finished what he was born to do. When George flips the sign to Open on his and his brother’s shop, when Dean paints a face of someone he loves that isn’t dead, when Lavender climbs her mountain in Asia.

Life is a circle. It is a war. It builds, climaxes, ebbs out of the fallout, and then builds again. Every night someone goes to sleep to the end of the world, but one morning, they wake up. They shake out their bones, they realize they have survived. They begin again, that human struggle for peace, that desperate reach for happiness.” 


Hogwarts Aesthetics + Gryffindor

They call you in the middle of the night  with some crazy plan and you can’t find the strength to say no, because it’s easy to break the rules when you’re standing next to someone fearless. 

You ask ‘why’, they answer ‘why not’.

They drive way over the speed limit, just to feel the adrenaline rushing through their veins, with a cigarette on one hand and music so loud you feel it shake your bones. 

You ask ‘why’, they shrug ‘why not’.

They scream from the top of their lungs and laugh wildly, roaring like a lion. You think that’s what not having a care in the world must sound like.

You ask ‘why’, they snort ‘why not’.

You know it’s not true. You know they care. They care so much they’re bleeding out for this world. They don’t miss a protest against injustice. They don’t look away from abuse. They don’t back down from a fight and you can’t count the new scars and bruises in their body every time you see them again.

You ask ‘why’, they murmur, ‘because someone has to’.


you are the dawn light—
      (the crack in the sky
where the sun creeps in)


the stars
are made of you;
of your forgotten sins


your bones shake the night
      (stained with memories;
stained with forever)


the night-dark in your dreams
reminds you of home—
& whispers of forgiveness


your hands break the city
into pieces—
      (shaped like love)


the scars across your mouth
are fading,
like a distant storm


you; halfway into the light
      (but more than before)
halfway into the dream


you are the oncoming storm;
wildflowers part
the earth beneath you


your light is buried
in the softness of love
      (but the wild dark lingers)


inside the hunger
of your golden-blue dreams
a softness remains


the ocean calls you home
again & again
      (but the freedom aches)


you are tomorrow’s light—
your tongue could melt
an ocean of sadness

—  The Signs as a Form of Confession: Part II, Michelle Tudor

i. Get black out drunk, scream to the moon, and when somebody asks why
you’re howling, tell them you don’t actually know. 
ii. Call your mother, tell her everything is fine, that the self destruct button
is pretty but she raised you right, just well enough to be able to say no
despite the hurricane shaking your bones.
iii. Call your brother, tell him you’re sorry for breaking his arm when he was
four, when he says it was his fault for falling off of the couch,
forgive him for scoffing at your apology, forgive yourself for the guilt
you’ve forgotten to wash away, forgive yourself for all of things that
your shaky hands couldn’t save before they broke. 
iv. Call your mother, tell her everything isn’t alright, that the sunset was 
cracked, that your palms can never hold enough water to rehydrate yourself,
forgive her for how she sighs and forgive her for how she always tells you the
same thing when your bones feel like they’re collapsing under your own weight,
“It’ll be okay, you’re just panicking.” tell her thank you even when that wasn’t
what you wanted to hear. 
v. Go take a shower, pretend that the boiling water is rinsing your spine,
cleansing it from everything you didn’t want. When your brother calls you,
saying mom is worried, do not tell him that she needs to be, 
tell him that everything is fine
and the sky isn’t cracked. 

Daryl Jr.

A/N : Happy Thanksgiving !!!!!

Request for crabbitsrecovery !

Imagine you find out you’re pregnant with Daryl’s child , but you’re terrified because of what happened to Lori .

With your gun in your lap , you sat in a decaying doctors office . You sobbed quietly as the five positive pregnancy sticks sat across from you on a file cabinet , seemingly staring you down . You couldn’t believe you were pregnant . Well actually you could , it’s not like you were in disbelief and tried to pretend like it was some immaculate conception . It was just so hard to take .

You were beyond scared . After watching what happened to Lori .. The thought of bringing a new life into this hell of a world made you sick . But here you were , hormones at their peak and a frightening shake in your bones .

You were so in shock that you didn’t even notice the door across from you open . Daryl stood at the entrance , with a smile on his face at first from the sight of you , but it quickly dropped as he saw you crying . You’ve never cried to his knowledge , everyone saw you as this strong sweet girl that never cried or got scared , but there you were … Fragile .

He instantly shut the door behind him , and sat his crossbow on his back . “ Baby ? ” he rasped and tentatively crouched in front of you . you ran your hands into your hair and gripped the locks as you cried . “ Y/N what’s wrong ? ” He layed his hands on your thighs gently .

You couldn’t get a word out , but instead pointed to the dark file cabinet . His eyes dimmed at you and he parted his lips to ask what was wrong again , but you just jerked your arm forwards to imply for him to look . He hesitantly turned around and looked towards the cabinets . His eyes dimmed once again , but this time in curiosity .

With a swift motion he stood up straight and swiped the tests off the desk . With his back to you , he asked lowly “ Yer’ pregnant? ” . You’re body racked with another sob as he said it aloud . The words burning into you like fire in your chest . “ Pregnant.. ” he said to himself . He then did something surprising . He turned around and scooped your cheeks into his hands and placed his lips on yours . You were shocked by his actions , but kissed him back with as much passion as he gave you at the moment .

“ Baby there ain’t nothin’ to be cryin’ ‘bout . You havin’ ma’ baby is tha’ best news ” He smiled . He held no trace of being scared in his blue eyes and it calmed you a bit . “ I’m .. I’m just scared .. With what happened with Lori and all . I don’t want this child to grow up without a mother or be scared or terrified of everything in this world ” You admitted .

He shook his head , smile still on his face “ Y/N I’m gonna keep you and this baby safe . Ya’ have ma’ word ” . You smiled through your tears and he softly swiped them away . “ Ain’t ever gonna let someone hurt ya’ . Your mine and this baby is mine . Anyone even so much as looks at ya’ wrong I’ll end 'em ” He promised .

You sniffled “ I love you ” . “ I love you too darlin’ . Now come on stop yer’ cryin’ and let’s get back to tha’ others ” He smiled , outstretching his hand to you . You took a deep breath , throwing a smile his way , and was about to take his hand when he swept you off your feet .

You let out a squeal “ Daryl ! ” . He chuckled and stuck your gun into his belt “ Can’t have my pregnant girl walkin’ around . Ya’ fragile now ” . You glared at him “ I am not fragile Daryl ! You take that back and put me down! ” . He chuckled once again and ignored your attempts of struggle , he then continued to walk out of the decaying building with you wiggling around constantly in his grip .

It was later that night when you arrived back at Alexandria . Daryl carried you all the way back with no sign of struggle , but didn’t put you down even when you walked past the gates . Maggie sat against the wall with Glenn , having their own little talk , but quickly ended it as they saw Daryl approaching with you in his arms .

They ran up to you two , concern written all over their faces seeing as he was carrying you back from a run , and quickly asked “ Is she ok ?! ” . You giggled as the couple talked in union . “ She’s fine ” . They smiled “ She better be ” . Maggie then rubbed your shoulder “ If you would’ve let her get hurt I would’ve had to shoot you ” . You smirked and looked at Maggie “ You shoot Daryl I shoot Glenn ” .

She laughed “ Over my dead body ” . Glenn sighed playfully “ Why does your conversations always end with me getting shot guys ? ” . You all laughed and then Daryl brought you back to the house you two shared . He sat you down on the porch and looked down at you “ You’re the best thing to ever happen’ to me y/n ” .

You blushed at his sweet comment “ Stop it ” . He smiled and wrapped his hands around your lower waist “ I can’t . Ya’ love me enough ta’ have ma’ baby ” . You smiled up at him and wrapped your arms around his neck , your hands sliding into his hair “ I love you enough to give you as many babies as you want . It might be terrifying , but you deserve a family Daryl ” .

His eyes started to blur with tears for a moment before he quickly blinked them away “ No ones ever said that ta’ me before ” . You leaned up and kissed his cheek “ That’s because no ones ever loved you as much as me before to tell you the truth ” . He rushed his lips on to yours and kissed you lovingly , holding you tightly to himself .

You heard some whistles and you two slowly looked over to see Rick and Carl standing in the yard . You laughed at the pair as Daryl flipped Rick off . Rick smirked “ Y'all alright ? ” . You nodded and walked with Daryl down to talk to them “ We’re fine ” . Rick looked you up and down for a moment sending a wave of jealousy across Daryl’s face “ Why don’t ya’ take a pictur- ” Daryl started , but Rick interrupted “ Ya pregnant Y/N ? ” .

You raised a eyebrow “ How’d ya know ? ” . He chuckled “ You have a glow right now and the way Daryl is being more over protective then usual kinda had me wondering ” . Carl smiled at you “ If its a boy you have to name him Carl ” . You rolled your eyes “ Of course - ” . Daryl quickly interrupted you with a smile on his face “ Nah we gonna name it Daryl Jr. ”

“ Oh god no ” You laughed .

“ Oh yes Y/N ” .

am not going to let boys fuck me
like i am
an object because i am a storm. i
am a goddamm
fucking hurricane on a
sunday afternoon.
i storm through windows on the silent days
when you are shaking in your bones,
afraid that something is going to happen.
my skin is made of glass with a
do not fucking touch sign
spray painted across my chest.
i am not an object for you to
throw onto your bed
and tie my hands up like i am a fucking
prisoner. i refuse to be prisoner
to you
you stole what was mine and
this means war
because i am not a fucking object
i am a goddamn snow storm
in the middle of november.
you cannot have me anymore.