i whispered into my hands

god traced her fingers down my spine
and said, “my child, you don’t believe
in much of anything these days,
why are you putting your faith
in empty bottles and 2 miligram bars?”

i scratched my nails down my arm
and said, “god, you are just another
voice i hear. how do i know
you’re not the one that tries to kill me?
how do i know that you’re not the one
who whispers about how terrible i am?”

god ran her hands through my hair
and said, “sweetie, i’m god. you have
to trust me, you have to believe
that i love you and can save you.”

i balled my hands into fists
and said, “god, i have stopped
putting my faith in forces
i hear in my ears. i can’t believe
in something that will only
let me wallow in my sickness
because it’s a trial.
my life has been a trial
and i’m going to make it end
if i hear one more goddamn

god vanished and laughed herself to sleep.


taekook in bs&t era 


Good night,” I whisper to the bow in my hand and feel it go still. I raise my left arm and twist my neck down to rip off the pill on my sleeve. Instead my teeth sink into flesh. I yank my head back in confusion to find myself looking into Peeta’s eyes, only now they hold my gaze. Blood runs from the teeth marks on the hand he clamped over my nightlock. “Let me go!” I snarl at him, trying to wrest my arm from his grasp.

I can’t,” he says.


books read in 2017: anna and the french kiss by stephanie perkins

“Say my name again,” he whispers.
I close my eyes and lean forward. “Étienne.”
He takes my hand into his. Those perfect hands, that fit mine just so. “Anna?”
Our foreheads touch. “Yes?”
“Will you please tell me you love me? I’m dying here.”

In a special edition of I-don’t-know-wtf-I’m-doing, Oni tries some birthday Art Noveau to….varying degrees of success. 

So for all y'all wrestling fans it’s MA BOI’S Mustafa Ali’s B'day right now on the 28th, go wish him a good one while I whisper comforting words to my hand :“D
The gold khat on top reads "Shehzada Khusti” ie. closest approximation to “Prince of Wrestling” and the loop de loops on the top corners are the Arabic spelling for his name ie. “Mustafa Ali”. 

one time i was at a cafe with a guy friend and i had gotten pretty close with him so i was telling him about how i hadn’t pooped the day before and he was like “wtf girls can poop” and i said “yeah we have buttholes” and he said “i thought you had buttholes for anal” and i went “who tf would do anal” and he looked at me, grabbed both my hands and whispered “the team i play for would”

and that ladies and gentlemen is how my best friend came out to me and i’ve never been so amazed

It doesn’t need to be an attack. It can be as subtle as you want to make it.
I can decide where, when and how, I just need to pick the right moment.

Standing behind you in a crowd, placing my hands on your hips, I whisper in your ear ‘you’re ticklish aren’t you?’.

That’s all it takes. You body instantly goes into alert mode, your shoulders rise and goose bumps run up the back of your arms. You’ve never been more aware of where my hands are than this moment right now.

I’ve said four words and you’ve started to blush, you’re shaking inside, waiting, wondering how you’re going to cope with what you think is coming. All these people here. Your cheeks fully flush.

You flinch as I lean in to your ear again. 'I’m going to tickle you…’.

I move my fingers an inch on your hips and your shoulder blades move inwards, you stand taller. It’s like I have a puppet, your skin is the strings, I have control.

I can feel you shaking, I know you’re biting your lip without even seeing your face. You playfully push back against me, your body says 'stop it’ but I know your mind is just waiting, craving that jolt. You start to breath deeper.

I slide my hands around your smooth tummy and feel it contract. I know by now your legs are starting to shake. I lean in again and whisper 'you’re Tickle Trash aren’t you?’.

Your legs lock firm and your shoulders rise again. The anticipation is wrecking you, your body is buzzing all over. I slide my fingers back to your hips as I lean in one last time 'Just wait until I get you home…’

It’s as easy as that. Nobody noticed. I don’t have to attack you to ruin you.

Briste | Chapter 13

Briste | Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12

He was going to kiss me.

I could see it in his eyes, lust, passion, desire… it was all there everything I had been aching for, been yearning for was right there.

“Stop.” I whispered gently laying my hand on his chest. I could feel his rapid breathing and thundering heartbeat under my palm. My eyes transfixed on my hand, refusing to see the hurt that was sure to be in his eyes.

“Alright. I’ll wait.” Came his breathy, hoarse whisper. His voice so deep it sent chills down my spine.

I chanced a glance at this face, surely he was joking. He had to be angry, I just denied him… they always get angry when denied.

“Really?” I asked in amazement, not seeing any anger but still the same passion and desire. He intertwined my hand with his, laying it back against his chest while pulling me forward. The backs of our hands touching the other’s heart.

A quirk of his lips pulled them into a side smile. “Aye, I’ll wait for ye Claire. I’ll wait as long as it takes. Ye ken I’ll no be your patient forever, and when that day comes,” he bent down kissing my hand. “I’ll be here a dozen flowers in my hand, and walking on my own two feet asking ye to be mine.”

My cheeks filled with color as his statement sunk in.

“Come on, you shouldn’t be out of your bed for too long. You’re going to drive the nurses into a tizzy.” I tried to diffuse the current mood, the sexual tension was thick in the air, my own mind questioning why I wasn’t following my gut and letting him kiss me.

“Aye, suppose ye are right.” Jamie nodded, then began to hobble back out the door.

I let out a breathing looking at the ceiling. “You’re a bloody fool Beauchamp.”

We were silent on the walk back to his room. What should have been a short walk, turned into a laborious adventure for both of us. Neither fully healed, hobbling and shaking down the hall, unable to move quick enough out of the random running personnel.

M'aingeal, bidh thu leig dhomh gaol agam ort?” Jamie whispered pushing a lock of my hair behind my ear as we stood outside his door.

I started to shake my head, words fumbling. “I-I don’t know what you said!”

Jamie only smiled and kept his hand on the side of my face. “Dinna fash yerself over it. Good night, Doctor Beauchamp.”

Gone was his playful and desire-filled tone, in it’s place was the quiet reluctance of professionalism.

“Good night, Jamie.” I managed to say just as the door clicked shut.

The hall felt too large, yet too small simultaneously. I couldn’t breathe.

My heart ached and my head warred with my thoughts.

He was perfect. He was a patient. He wanted me. No one ever wants me. He makes me feel different, worthy. No one will ever accept me.

Over and over, the cycle of confidence and doubt turned over until I couldn’t take it any longer. Still in scrubs I ran from the hospital. My bag, keys, phone, everything still locked safely away in my locker. Legs burning, hip screaming in pain, I pushed on. I felt the bandages Mrs. Fitz so carefully attached begin to slip from my legs. The scabs on my knees begin to crack and bleed once again, but it didn’t matter. I needed air. I needed to be able to breathe.

Tears blurring my vision, I stumbled and caught myself before falling onto the pavement making my way to a bench at the edge of the block.

All the emotions I had been fighting for weeks came to the surface, no longer were tears only clouding my vision, now they ran freely in unending streams down my face. Why was he so nice to me? How could he want to kiss me and why did I want to kiss him back?

I don’t know how long I sat on that bench two blocks from the hospital. My body chilled as rain drizzled down.

“Claire?” A voice called, I didn’t look in it’s direction.

“Claire!” Warm hands gripped my shoulders, slightly shaking me. “What are you doing out here? Where’s your coat? Jesus! You’re freezing!”

Joe Abernathy pulled me from my spot on the bench, my mind and body still numb. Speech not coming easily.

“You need to get back inside, when Marcus told me he saw you running out of the building like a bat outta hell I had to come look for you! What has gotten into you?”

I shook my head, a frown pulling deeper on my face. “I can’t go back. I’ve broken the rules. He can’t.. I can’t… please don’t make me. I don’t have the will to stay away. I can’t lose this job. I can’t lose him. Please Joe… I…”

I rambled and sobbed as Joe pulled his coat tighter around me, throwing his arm around my shoulders then guided me back to the hospital.

“Who are you trying to run away from? Is it the man that hurt you? I’m still not convinced it was as you said, and just a running accident.”

I shook my head at his words. “No one hurt me! I did this to myself, granted not intentionally, but I did not get beat! I wish people would stop assuming that!”

“That was the most coherent sentence I’ve gotten from you all day.” He laughed jovially, squeezing my shoulder. I snorted.

“I can’t lose my job Joe, but I can’t be around Ja–Mr. Fraser.” I stopped walking and turned to look at Joe’s face. “I’ll break every vow I’ve ever made as a physician if I continue to be one of his primary care doctors. I can’t do it. It’s become…personal. He means too much to me and I can’t lose him, but I can’t lose this job either.”

Joe smiled and nodded with a sigh, “I figured this would happen. You’re all the man talks about when I go to see him. Keeps calling you m'aingeal, and I can’t get anyone in this damned place to tell me what it means. They simply smile and have a lovesick look on their faces so I’m going to guess it’s an endearment.”

I felt my chin wobble with the tears that were threatening to fall from my eyes.

“He—” I cleared my throat, “he’s called me that before. Right before I ran out of the hospital actually.”

Joe smiled jovially. “Ha! See! You won’t be losing that boy, I can guarantee that! Now, come on. You need to get dry and warm. I’ll make sure, if it’s the last thing I do that you will not only keep your job, but you will get to keep your…unprofessional relationship with the young Mr. Fraser.” He winked and pulled me back inside. Back to the warmth, pain, brutal politics, sadness, and overwhelming joy that will hopefully shape my future for the better.

Aggressive || Joe Sugg Imagine

The feeling of Joe’s hand on my back wasn’t a new feeling. At first, the touches started lightly, a whisper of fingers across the curve of my spine. It was harmless, we were drunk and there were no feelings. But today it felt different. No alcohol had been consumed yet he was still touching me and holding me. The open flirting was making my head spin.

“You’re so beautiful,” He whispers into my ear hand placed on my hip. I blush a deep crimson color.

“Shut up,” I shrug his comment off.

“Why?” He asks cocking his head to the side, “You look so good in my kitchen.” He trails off running his eyes shamelessly up and down my body.

“Stop,” I say looking away from him running my hands over my stomach, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

He strides his way over to me, pinning me up against the cupboard door, “Go on a date with me?” He asks, hoping shining is his blue eyes.

“Why?” I ask biting my lip softly.

“Because we’d make an amazing couple,” He says placing his lips on my neck softly.

“You break it you buy it, Sugg,” I tease.

“Well, I got a bloody good deal then,” He says moving his eyes up to meet mine, “Now can I stop being aggressive and be adorable and flirty now?” He asks.

“Depends on where are we going to go on this date?”

“That’s for me to know and you to find out,” He winks

I tap my chin lightly, “Okay Sugg, let’s date. I don’t like that you’ve taken a page out of Jacks book, though, go back to being funny Joe please.” 

A huge grin crosses Joe’s features, "Wanna’ knows a secret?”

I nod my head, “I’ve liked you since we met, two years ago.”

I smile softly.

You’re mine,” I whispered, dragging my hands through his hair, down his back, across his wings.
My friend through many dangers.
My lover who had healed my broken and weary soul.
My mate who had waited for me against all hope, despite all odds.
—  A Court of Mist and Fury by Sarah J. Maas