#a moment of bliss and feeling like they are deserving of love is so Fluctuating for vashwood | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ruporas · 1 year

Photo

bound to want (part two) /// part one rest of pages under READ MORE after ID

[ID: 23 page digital comic of Vashwood from Trigun Maximum. The comic is in a limited palette of a dark blue, light pink, white, black, and a light beige color for Vash's skin and a mid-brown color for Wolfwood's. This comic is the second part to "Bound to Want" and is spoiler-free. The first part is linked here.

It begins with a panel close up of Vash's expressions. The sky colored in dark blue can be seen behind him. He has a neutral expression, but he holds a slight frown and the reflection of his glasses covers one side of his eyes. Wolfwood says, "Hey. What's with the distance?" In the second panel, the shot widens to show both of them, a clear physical distance separating them with Wolfwood walking ahead and Vash trailing a little behind. Vash responds, "What? I'm just walking a bit slower today..." Wolfwood looks at him with a an irritated expression, clicking his tongue. Wolfwood says, "I was going to wait for you to start... But yer just running away away."

Vash is seen looking away, unable to hold eye contact with Wolfwood as he continues, "You've been avoiding me since that night. Did ya think I wouldn't notice? It's about that dream, right? Tell me about it already if you're going to be moping like this." Vash looks slightly downwards, his brows furrowing and he starts to walk ahead of Wolfwood without looking at him and responds stiffly, "I really don't want to talk about it..." Wolfwood looks at him with a surprised expression, but doesn't probe.

A panel close up to Wolfwood's eyes as he watches Vash go on ahead before he follows suite with an irritated sigh. The panels are overlapped by Wolfwood's hand holding the bottle of the Bride with motion lines, indicating a transition in time.

A wide shot of Vash and Wolfwood in a room now. Vash is seated, his back turned away from the viewer, while Wolfwood's body faces the viewer with his eyes looking towards Vash. He rests the bottle of the Bride on the table with a "clack" and his other hand holds two shotglasses. The background is coated in a light pink.

A panel shows a close up of Wolfwood's face, his eyes looking downwards to Vash as he says, "Let's drink." Next to this panel is Vash looking up at Wolfwood, his brows furrowed and a slight frown. The bottom half of the page is a wider shot with Vash's body turned away from the viewer as he says, "I'm not going to talk about it." Wolfwood responds, "You don't have to." as he sits down.

A wide panel of Wolfwood holding the shotglass, pouring in the drink as he continues, "I'll talk." The next panel is a profile view of Wolfwood, his eyes looking down at the now filled shotglass as he continues to say, "You're..."

"... upset with me." Vash can be seen next to this speech bubble with narrowed eyes, looking towards Wolfwood. The panels are all coated in with a dark blue background. Wolfwood continues, "I can't be certain why since yer not telling me a thing -- but it's probably... my bad." The panels show Wolfwood about to bring the shotglass to his mouth but he turns way as he continued to speak, his eyes not on Vash. The bottom page shows him looking away completely with a guilty expression as he says, "I'm sorry.

If you can ever tell me why, I can try and adjust to make it more bearable. But if you're just trying to get rid of me--" The panels follow Wolfwood's certain expression as he says this, "I don't intend to leave you. I can't... and I won't." A panel shows Vash's wide-eyed expression, surprised upon hearing this, and then his eyes soften as Wolfwood again concludes with, "I'm sorry."

Vash's inner thoughts begins, a boxed speech at the center of the page and panels of his eyes, his brows furrowing again and a resigned, but frustrated expression. His thoughts starts, "Stop. I shouldn't be happy hearing that. And why are you apologizing? I should be the one to..! I can't let anything like that happen to you. You deserve to live a long steady and peaceful life. I want to be optimistic. I want to protect you, but I might end up doing the opposite." The text surrounds Wolfwood from Vash's perspective, the other man drinking out of his shotglass, his eyes downcasted.

"I shouldn't have you. And you won't leave." Behind these text is a panel of Wolfwood's eyes finally looking over to Vash. Vash's thoughts continues, "It's so unfair." When Wolfwood sees Vash, his eyes soften and he frowns. The last panel shows the lower half of Vash's face, but tears begins to flow down his cheek. Wolfwood's hand is already reaching to wipe at them as he starts to say, "You know..."

A wider shot of Vash and Wolfwood, Vash slightly leaning forward with his mouth tightly shut, and tears steadily continuing to flow out of his closed eyes. Wolfwood continues to wipe at them with his hand as he continues, "This isn't a dream anymore. I don't know what you saw for you to be this shaken up, but whatever happened, you'll overcome it, right? If not you, I'm here too. You'll be okay, Spikey. So..." Wolfwood's expression grows more tender, "Have a little faith in me... and come back already." The dark blue starts to fade.

The wide panel has the dark blue background faded and replaced is the light pink. It shows Vash in full up to his shoulders, his eyes are still tears littered, but there's light in them as he says, "Wolfwood..." making eye contact with the other. The next panel shows Wolfwood's tender expression, his eyes and brows fully soften and he has a small smile on his lips, finally seeing the other return a level of sincerity with him.

The next panel shows the bottom half of Wolfwood's face and his hand is offered towards Vash for a dance as he says, "C'mon. We don't have to talk, but this is okay, right?" The background is now white and a ribbon flowing across the page separates this panel from the next sequence. Vash's inner thoughts continus, "I've spent too long avoiding this. It's scary to want after I've taken so much from others." A sequence close up of their hands is shown, with Wolfwood's outstretched hand on the right and Vash's reaching hand on the left. Vash gently places his hand in Wolfwood and at the bottom, Wolfwood wraps his fingers across Vash's.

Throughout the page, a dark blue ribbon starts to flow around the both of them with confetti raining alongside the effect. Vash and Wolfwood are hand and hand, dancing together with Wolfwood as the lead. The viewer can see a peak of Vash's expression, full of fondness but also a hint of sorrow as he looks down at Wolfwood. His inner thoughts continue, "I don't deserve this. I don't deserve you. But why is that even though I have these burdens, I still want to love you. I still want you to be by my side."

With a close up of their mouths, Vash's thoughts continue, the text covering his mouth, "Wolfwood, I--" Wolfwood's speech bubble covers Vash's text as he completes his sentence, "want you." Vash's eyes widen for one panel and in the next, his eyes spark, a blush appearing on his cheek and the confetti flows and spark. Tears ease up on his eyes again.

"Want me too already, Spikey." Wolfwood has leaned in enough to rest his head against Vash, a hand of his on Vash's neck, holding his nape and another hand pressed gently against his back. A ribbon separates this panel from the next, a mix of confetti flows across the page, as Vash envelopes Wolfwood in a hug too, holding him and his hand gripping tightly onto his back.

This page is just the ribbon flowly throughout the page on the white background, one white ribbon and the other a dark blue. Near the bottom, the ribbon envelopes each other in a loop. A conversation of Vash and Wolfwood is held over these ribbons, Vash starting to say, "What if I hurt you? What if you..?" Wolfwood responds, "You? How could you hurt me?" Vash, "You know what I mean... You see it everyday..." Wolfwood responds, "If you think I'm going to kick the bucket so easily, I suggest you look at me more closely from now on, idiot. I'm not that easy to get rid of."

The next page has the ribbon criss cross over the top of the page. Vash and Wolfwood can be seen in their dancing position again, Wolfwood now resting a hand on Vash's shoulder, as Vash takes the lead. Vash continues, "Well, I know that... I tried." Wolfwood responds, "But you won't anymore... since you want me... around, yeah?" Wolfwood's head cocks to the side, smiling with assurance, cheeks flushed. Vash looks at him with a wide smile and fond, loving eyes. The confetti flows across the bottom of this page and as it eases into the next page, it starts to disappear.

Vash responds, ".. Yeah... I do..." as he pulls Wolfwood into a hug again. Wolfwood says, "Not going to run away anymore, are you?" Vash says, "No... I trust you." A panel shows Wolfwood's turning away slightly with a shy expression, muttering "Geez..."

In a more simplified style, Wolfwood is seen gripping Vash's cheeks now with his hand, "Though... You do remember you avoided me for two weeks straight, right? How are you going to make that up to me?" Wolfwood asks. Vash responds with eyes closed and a pucker of his lips. A vein of irritation appears on Wolfwood's face. Wolfwood starts to squeeze at Vash's cheek with both hands, shouting, "Now that you've recovered, you're trying to be funny, huh?!" Vash says through the squished cheeks, "I'm just happy..."

The next page opens with a closed up panel of Vash's widen eye as Wolfwood's hand moves from squishing his cheeks to gently holding them and Wolfwood leans in. The inner thoughts starts again, "There's a chance I'm not making the right choice... My dreams, my fears of losing you, it will never go away. But you said you won't let it happen... And I want to hang onto your words closely this time. After all, if it's anyone who can make me believe, it's you." The white ribbon from previous pages flows across the page and it visibly ends at the bottom of the page, enclosing the two of them as they share a gentle kiss with Vash holding Wolfwood's face, a tear in his eye.

The next pages starts with Wolfwood saying, "You cryin' again?" Vash responds, "I'm just grateful..." Wolfwood responds, "But you've always had me." Vash responds, "Being like this is different from staring at you from behind all the time though..." The two can be seen together again, Wolfwood pressing his elbows against the table with Vash leaning over him. Wolfwood is easing the tears out of Vash's eye again, just like earlier. A close panel of Vash's fond expression is seen as he says, "Thank you, Wolfwood." Wolfwood looks up at him with a small smile, gentle eyes. Confetti starts to flow lightly across the page as text starts to appear against the white background, "I'm the one who's grateful...

That you'd embrace someone like me, when I'm not fit to hold you in the first place... But I know better than to hesitate. The moment I acknowledged it, I knew I'd spend the rest of my life loving you. So, have as much of me as you want, Vash."

The final page shows the confetti gently falling down the page and at the bottom shows Vash and Wolfwood pressing their foreheads together, Wolfwood's hands cupping the side of Vash's face gently, and both of them smiling brightly with each other. ID END]

#vashwood #trigun #trigun maximum #vash the stampede #nicholas d wolfwood #its done.... after 2 months.... collapses on the ground #theres a lot of things i would prob change about this but. its so sappy that it makes me a little happy where it ended up #they deserve a little sap too!!! and in the end this is the closest they could get to a first confession #through want! want in each other's life and company since they both have this strained relationship with keeping people permanent in their #lives... and the people or things that are tied to them in the long term tend to be something that harms them.#and as the saying goes -- good things never last! and im sure they prob gave up trying to find a good thing for a long time #vash managed to be found after the moon accident and got his good thing for a bit but even he prob knew itd come to an end eventually #ironically it was wolfwood that ended it. but he really just planted smth new for vash... and now they have some security #or at least vash does. or at least just for this one moment #a moment of bliss and feeling like they are deserving of love is so Fluctuating for vashwood #and ultimately i think wolfwood could only push onwards to initiate because he sensed there was smth vash wanted. and its just #naturally in wolfwood to give to those that he love #but anyway anyway.... i like to think in a sweet universe -- they had the chance to confess like this and got a little bit of time to #enjoy and share their company in this manner. to be a little less restrained and love each other freely #ruporas art

2K notes · View notes

dreamties · 3 years

Text

Billy & Stu's Adventures in Puppy Care

18+ / NSFW Accounts Do Not Interact

A/n- I wrote this a few months ago...thought i'd finally share. sorta nervous about this :O

Word Count: 1858

description: Y/n spends the day as a sleepy, affection starved puppy with their favorite people.

ship: billy loomis / stu macher / reader

this is about SFW pet regression so don't be weird !! for the love of slasher movies, DONT. BE. WEIRD !!

Y/n comes home from work in the very early hours of the morning, exhausted to the bone and just wanting to curl up and sleep. They still had to shower off the day's grease and sweat, and start breakfast for everyone. Sleep would come...but not soon enough. They try to wipe the sleep out of their eyes as they head to the bathroom, they take a quick glance at their boys in the other room. Smiling at the sight of Billy and Stu cuddling into each other, Stu with his long arms wrapped around the smaller boy. They’re quick to scamper off to the bathroom, no matter how much they wanted to stay there and take in the gorgeous view of their beloveds so at peace. No matter how much they wanted to nestle their way in between them. Bask in their warmth.

Their shower is long, spending time stretching their limbs and properly grooming themselves. Lathering a sweet and calming lavender scented shampoo along their body. Taking too long under the shower head, making sure all the suds are washed off themself and none of it clings to the tub.

Next, is breakfast. They put up the hot water for coffee and tea. Put the bread in the toaster, sort through various items in the fridge, trying to find jam. Finally acquiring strawberry jam, and taking the butter out as well. They scramble eggs, and plate the food on three plastic dishes. They place everything at the table, finally heading off to their bedroom again to retrieve their boyfriends. They place gentle kisses to each of their foreheads, then shake them awake. Billy’s the first one up, pushing himself out of Stu’s grip- much to his begrudgement.

“Aww, c’mon! Just a little longer,” he whines.

They let out a tired chuckle, “You can cuddle more later, breakfasts ready.”

The three of them sit down, and begin to dig into the meal. Y/n gets up when they finally hear the kettle whistling, making everyone's morning beverage of choice. They sit back down, a hot mug of tea in their hands. They take a sip, slipping their tongue out as they accidentally burn it.

They shake it off, and give an apologetic look to Stu, “We’re out of your favorite, we’ll have to stop at the store tomorrow. You two don’t have work, right?”

Stu pouts and Billy answers, “Not today.”

They give a pleased smile, “Good. I’m off the rest of the weekend.”

Both of their eyes glimmer at the news- “What did you have in mind?”

“Really? I just wanna...destress for a bit. Work was awful last night.”

They both frown. “Is it your boss again?” Billy asks.

They nod.

“Y’know, we could always-” Stu begins.

They narrowed their eyes at him, “If you suggest to kill my boss again- I swear to god, Stu!”

He raises his hands up in defense, giggling and smiling. “I surrender, I surrender.”

Billy and Y/n can’t help but smile at his antics. The three of you finally finish up, dishes in the sink, coffee filters and old tea bags in the trash.

“The two of you mind cleaning the dishes?” They yawn out, rubbing at their eyes.

Billy leans against the edge of the sink, giving them a soft look, “No problem.”

“Thank you,” they sigh, slumping into Billy. Nuzzling their head against him, aching for attention.

He smiles down at them, curious- as realization slowly dawns his face. “What do you want, pup?”

They brighten at the name, continuing to nuzzle him. He brings his hands up, one to pet through their hair, the other tracing across their neck. “You want your collar?”

A few quick nods later, and moving the three of you to the bedroom- Y/n finds themselves kneeling on the ground awaiting the collar. Stu’s rummaging through piles, trying to remember where they stored the thing- it wasn’t often that their beloved found themselves in this regressed state, so they often misplaced the gear needed to keep things exciting and safe for Y/n.

Stu finally finds it, Y/n curiously sniffs at his hands, the item looking suspiciously different than usual. He pets their hair, guiding them to kneel back on the ground. He then leans down to put it around their neck- stepping back to admire their look. They turn their head to peer at Billy, showing off the pretty, red collar in the process. In big, curly letters the top of the pendant reads Y/n . Their shared apartment address is written at the bottom along with their wonderful owners' names.

“Does our little pup like their new collar?” Billy grins down at them, scratching the bottom of their chin. “Good, good baby.”

Y/n spent most of the day following their partners around as they did chores. From napping on the kitchen floor as they did the dishes to hiding in the laundry as they attempted to clean and fold it. Once or twice they go off to do their own thing- possibly planning other murders- where they leave them alone. It’s not all bad when that occurs, they find their doggy bed- a perfect fit for their size- in the living room. They rest in it’s comforting hold till their loved ones make their way back to them. They find themselves fluctuating between their regressed state of mind and not throughout the day, it finally settles to a consistent regressed state as the day comes to a close.

Billy grabs a red ceramic dog bowl from one of the bottom cupboards- it’s tucked away neatly, covered in a worn towel to prevent it’s breakage and protect it from dust. He hands the bowl to Stu, who pours a considerable amount of dry cereal into it. He moves to set it down, and Billy lets out a not entirely gentle, “Be careful.”

Stu rolls his eyes, “I’ve got it,” and places it on the ground, next to the edge of the counter. While he does that, Billy gets out bowls for them and milk from the fridge, placing two full bowls of milk and cereal on the table.

They sit down and begin to eat, idly chatting with each other. Billy tries not to laugh too hard from something moronic his boyfriend says. Sparing odd glances at their other partner, who's got their face right up against their bowl, while they happily munch up their kibble . Billy snickers, looking away from them. They were too cute and silly for their own good.

Y/n’s the first to finish up. Instead of waiting patiently for their owners, they crawl underneath the table, finding themselves next to Billy’s chair. Unbeknownst to him.

They nudge their head against his leg, achieving nothing but a small jolt of surprise.They let out a sharp whine when he doesn’t react immediately.

Billy looks underneath the table for a brief moment, “What’re you doing down there, Y/n?”

They keep rubbing at his leg. Stu, who has just finished, looks down to see what the commotion is. “Aww, they just want some love,” he grins. “C’mere.” He pats his lap, inviting them to him.

It was awkward trying to situate themself on Stu in a way that felt comfortable and puppy-like, but had little to no feelings of how non-regressed, human them would sit. They end up lying their head on his thigh, letting out a pleased noise as he pets their head.

“What kinda manners you teaching our little pup over there?” Billy teasingly remarks. He sighs, taking in the blissed out state of his partners, and how happy Stu seemed to be as he fulfilled their smallest desires. He quickly finds his way standing next to Stu’s spot.

“Let's take this to the bedroom,” he gestures away from the table. “You’ll be more comfortable, Y/n- and you.” He points a finger at Stu.

Stu chuckles, face falling slightly, and smiling nervously at Billy. “What? What’d I do?”

He smirks at him, having fun playing around with Stu, “You gonna be a good boy, too?”

“I’m not usually?”

Billy barks out a laugh, “You’re a fucking nuiscance.” It’s not said with malice, but an odd sense of affection. He glances down at Stu’s lap, noticing Y/n’s eyes drooping shut. “Looks like our baby’s getting tired.”

They perk up at the name, wide eyes staring up at Billy. The two boys chuckle. “Gonna carry em, okay?” Stu mentions, petting down their hair once more. They nuzzle against him at the idea. “You like that, huh?”

Eventually, Stu picks Y/n up, cradling them in his arms. He places them safely on the bed- though it takes as a second as they struggle with him, trying to stay wrapped in his nice, warm embrace. They whine as they’re finally left on the bed by themselves- Billy and Stu changing into proper bedroom attire. Billy’s in boxers and a white tee- while Stu has chosen quite a minimalistic approach. Boxers only. They try not to pay mind to Y/n’s whining too much, as they finally stop- dejectedly curling up on the mattress.

Stu’s quick to join them, as Billy lets out a sigh- “C’mere, baby.” They hurriedly uncurl themselves and kneel on the edge of the bed- looking up expectantly.

He places a small kiss on the top of their head, moving his hands slowly across their body- stopping at the edge of their top. He peels their clothes off, with ease and if practiced, till it’s nothing but bare skin. They press into him, thankful for his help. He kisses them again, and holds his hand against their head in a gentle manner. Hugging them close to himself. “It’s okay, love.”

Stu comes from behind pulling the two of you down with him. Y/n lets out a surprised squeak along with a series of giggles. They find themselves laying against his chest, while Billy’s over both of them, trying not to accidentally hurt Y/n. It’s warm in the middle of it, and they feel protected. Stu’s got an arm lazily playing with Billy’s hair, and the other hung around Y/n’s shoulders.

The three of them don’t stay in the position long. Comfortable? Yes. But no one, even their little pup, would want to stay the whole night like this. They needed- and deserved- a proper night of sleep. Especially after their long and tiring day of work, and having to deal with their hardass of a boss. (If he ended up missing or found dead within the following days...well, he had it coming.)

Y/n’s practically asleep when they try moving themselves around. They tuck their little puppy in first, peppering them with kisses and little reassurances. Then Stu climbs under, after sharing a quiet kiss with his boyfriend. Billy’s the last to get in- both boys curling their bodies in a way that allowed their pup to safely cocoon themselves in the middle. Their small bundle of love secured in their grasp. Billy whispers small “I love you”s, as sleep finally takes them in.

215 notes · View notes

tamakiamajikistentacles · 4 years

Text

Golden Hour {Hawks | Keigo Takami}

She felt so fortunate to have seen the amazing sights that she did—Tokyo lit up at night in the summer and buzzing with activity far below where she stood; flying high around the Three Holy Mountains in the seasons when their splendor was the most breathtaking; the vast expanse of the ocean spread wide in front of her.

But by far the sight she felt the most privileged to have seen and continued to see was the sight of her husband’s bright, warm features backed by the golden hue of the late afternoon sun.

Honey blonde hair haloed by the rays streaming through their balcony window and framed by the rich crimson of his wings painted him as a divine sculpture, truly a man that deserved to be gazed upon in reverence. A real hero in so many regards with his greatness achieved through his training by the Commission, she was the only one who really understood the greatness he had been born with.

Model-like looks hid beneath them a heart that was capable of so much love and tenderness, a person so valuable he had been hidden away by others in power who wanted to control him as something they could build and manipulate to need. He had broken free after turning twenty-three, a bird set free of the too-small cage they kept him in for the largest portion of his life, and while his true self could bleed through in some ways, Hawks held barely a fraction of the human worth of Keigo Takami.

Keigo was the man whose insecurity over battle scars could eat him alive while he told her how lucky he was to have someone as attractive as her, blemishes and all. He was paranoid of his hero image and the fluctuating rankings that had yet to affect him but “it’s only a matter of time” because he wasn’t young and single anymore. He was afraid of losing speed as his career went on and the potential lives lost that would follow.

He was also the man who remembered that on the day they met she was wearing a purple gingham dress and speaking with other sponsors over a plate of maguro finger food. He was more than happy to use his feathers to entertain her younger family members during gatherings, excited to use them for something other than violence. And Keigo Takami was the one before her, bathed in the rich colors of the setting sun.

“You’re so beautiful,” she said, catching his attention.

He turned to her, lips parted slightly in surprise. “I—you… think I’m beautiful?”

“I do,” she replied with a smile as she reached out to brush his hair out of his eyes. “I think you’re beautiful like this, with the sun hitting you just right. It makes you glow.”

His cheeks dusted pink and a small smile curled onto his lips.

“It’s one of my favorite ways to see you,” she added, voice sultry as the hand in his hair traced from his temple down his face, cupping his cheek. He leaned into the touch, his eyes boring into hers.

“What are the other ways you like to see me?” he asked lowly.

“There’s only one other,” she admitted. Her hand dropped from his cheek and down to the loose collar of his old tshirt, hooking into the fabric and tugging lightly. “Take this off and you’re halfway there.”

He slipped his arms from the sleeves and pulled his head out of the top, two red feathers appearing on either side of him to help guide the material’s large openings on the back over his wings to be tossed aside. Running his fingers through his hair, he cocked his head with a smirk.

“Halfway there,” he said cheekily.

With a smile she uncurled her legs from beneath her and rose up from the couch, turning towards the hallway that led to their bedroom. Reaching a hand out to him, he placed his palm in hers and stood to follow as she began walking. Once in their bedroom he closed the door behind him, an unnecessary task but one that he always made sure to do; inside was for the two of them only, safe and warm away from anyone else.

He dropped his hand and held her steady by the shoulders when she tried to turn around, his chest pressed against her back. Light kisses were placed at the juncture where her neck met her shoulder, and her head lolled back to rest against his collar bone.

She sighed and feeling the smile against her skin, grinned. “You’re still only halfway there, feathers.”

He barked out a laugh, his breath fanning out over the back of her neck as he pulled back slightly. Large, warm palms snuck below the hem of her shirt, smoothing over the skin of her stomach and tracing the familiar shape of her body, indulging himself only for a moment before removing her top and leaving her upper half bare.

“Let a man take his time,” he said in a hushed tone, his hands coming up to cup her chest as he pressed against her once more. A slow roll of his hips and a firm squeeze to her chest let any argument she could have had die on her tongue.

Instead she let out a quiet moan and arched her back at the feeling of his movements. “Mmm, Keigo…”

“Keep saying my name like that,” he groaned, stepping them forward to the bed.

She followed his lead, crawling up the large expanse of pillows and blankets before turning and lying back. At the sight of her husband moving up towards her, his entire body bathed in the golden light once more from their bedroom window, her breath hitched.

“Keigo,” she murmured, surging forward to throw her arms around his neck and pull him into a hard kiss. He fell onto his forearms above her, the majority of his weight supported by his arms but still a pleasant and welcome press against her body.

Desperate breaths between the clashing of teeth and tongues grew steadily heavier, and one of his hands drifted down to tug at her underwear and sweatpants. She shifted her hips to allow him to push them further down her legs and kicked them aside as soon as they were low enough, laying herself completely bare below him.

Still holding her close, his hand drifted back between her hips where he could feel just how much she wanted him. A cute little gasp escaped her at the first brush of his fingers on her clit and her arms tightened their hold around him, her nails forming shallow indents across his shoulders.

He kept his lips on hers to swallow the pleasure-filled noises as his thumb drew languid circles on her clit and his fingers curled into her, moving in a slow rhythm to prepare her for him. Though their more passionate moments were always his favorite, he could honestly say that the buildup was a close contender. To be able to coax her closer and closer to the edge with only his fingers made pride swell in his chest, knowing that he was the only one who could do it and would continue to be the only one for the rest of their lives.

The whines that had begun quietly grew louder as his fingertips found the perfect spot within her and he made sure to hit it at least every other motion. When she tightened around his fingers and her breathing sped up, her heart hammering in her chest hard enough for him to feel it, he gradually lessened the pressure against her clit and pulled his fingers from her completely.

He ground his clothed hips down against hers as he slowed their pace, dragging out the moment to savor the way they fit together so well even like this. But he knew it wouldn’t satisfy them for long, and with one last swipe of his tongue against her bottom lip he pulled back and stood to remove his own underwear and sweats, his wings fluffing out behind him.

“How many times have I had you like this?” he asked breathlessly, his hands sliding up her calves. “How many times have I been lucky enough to see you spread out so pretty for me?”

Her lips quirked up in a tiny smile as a pink blush dusted her cheeks; his words never failed to make her feel as if she were the only woman in the world he could ever look at with such love and passion. Early in their relationship she worried that it was an act like the ones he had put on for so many years because of the Commission’s training, but over time she began to understand that the depth of his emotion were so foreign to him that he truly did hold such wonder when expressing them.

“Could keep you in this bed forever,” he continued as he came to drape himself over her again. “What d’ya say we see if we can have us a chick or two, huh? Fill this nest up with little ones?”

“We will,” she murmured, “but not yet, Keigo.”

He traced a finger down her upper arm, the flash of disappointment not going unnoticed as he hummed, knowing that beneath her skin lay the tiny device in the way of his plans. “One year, two months.”

“Plenty of time to perfect our technique,” she said coyly, her intention to bring him out of his head.

A grin blooming across his face let her know that she was successful, and soon enough the grin was hidden in the crook of her neck and those same teeth were scraping against her skin. She whimpered at the feeling and a low, pleased rumble vibrated within his chest; with him pressed against her it harmonized with the wild beating of her heart.

With one hand between her and the mattress cradling her close, he slid his other hand down her side to prop her hips up so he could position himself properly.

“So good for me,” he whispered as his hips rolled forward until they were flush against her own, his wings lowering around them as if to hide their intimate moment from the rest of the world.

Her legs came to wrap around his waist to pull him just that much deeper, one thigh still supported by his hand and she moaned softly, causing him to look up from her neck to see the blissful expression on her face—eyes half-lidded as she gazed up at him through her lashes and her lips parted in a tiny ‘o’ shape.

Below him, she could only look on in awe as the dying light of day continued to filter through the window and highlight the man she felt privileged to call her husband.

“You’re so beautiful, the only one for me,” he told her, pulling back only to push forward and set a slow, steady pace. Gentle kisses were peppered across her cheeks as each time he filled her completely he paused to grind his hips against hers, the sensual drag against her clit absolutely perfect.

His name fell from her lips like an incantation, small gasps not breaking the spell of encouragement each syllable of his name created. The slow pace was maddening but was building the pleasure pooled low in her stomach.

“I love you,” she murmured breathlessly, catching his lips in a desperate kiss, “I love you, Keigo.”

A shudder ran through him and his rhythm faltered only to resume with faster thrusts of his hips, the new pace causing her to arch into him more. He held her tight against him, grinding more harshly each time he bottomed out within her.

“Fuck, I love you,” he panted as his nose bumped against hers. “I love you so much. Are you close, sweetheart? You’ve got me so close.”

“Please, Keigo,” she whimpered, clutching him harder and feeling the coiled muscles working beneath his skin.

The hand on her thigh moved between her legs, two fingers easily finding her clit and giving firm strokes to match the speed of his hips, driving her that much closer to her peak. “I’ve got you, baby, I know what you need.”

It only took the combination of his movements another moment before she was crying out his name and digging her nails hard into his shoulders, pure bliss washing over her completely. The sensation of her release around him threw Keigo over the edge too, his hips pressed flush against her own as he gave everything he had to her. His wings jerked back, flaring out to their full length in a beautiful arc behind him.

Together they lay amongst the rumpled sheets, chests heaving almost in synch as they basked in the floating afterglow of the moment they had shared. Golden hues continued to dance along the walls of their bedroom, yet still the most precious thing in the room was her husband. She wasn’t sure if anything could ever shine brighter than Keigo Takami.

151 notes · View notes

matildashoney · 4 years

Note

Please feel free to share your analysis...

FAIR WARNING: THIS WAS A PERSONAL ASSIGNMENT AND I WAS REFLECTING ON THE LYRICS IN MY LIFE. IT’S NOT AN ACTUAL ANALYSIS OF THE LYRICS THEMSELVES!

One of my favorite words in the dictionary is “alright”. Oxford Dictionary defines “alright” as “satisfactory but not especially good; acceptable”, which is ironic considering that all of the moments we use the terminology or phrase we are justifying that something or someone could become better. Having an affinity for words, it would seem only natural that my entire life is drawn around writing and even more so around music, and how they impact me, my mental health, my outlook on life. Outlets for mental health, especially coping mechanisms and therapies, whether it be a healthy coping mechanism or not as much, is extremely important and valuable and there has always been a keenness to include music and have a connection to the words that are going through the melody. Over the years, there has been a fluctuation of favorite songs and favorite lyrics, and yet, in the past six months, I have found sets of lyrics that have changed my life for the better, that have all made me feel as though everything that was going wrong would be “alright”.

“Oh // We’ll be alright // Oh // It’ll be alright.”

On the faux porcelain floor of my makeshift tub, water splashed against my legs and mimicked the flow of tears that made their way down my cheeks and on my skin. Only the second emotional break of the week, there was a playlist of songs echoing through the bathroom to try and alleviate the stressing thoughts in my mind and the pounding sensation that thrummed at my temples and matched my elevated pulse. One more day of questioning myself, my ability, my inclination to be a writer. One more series of breakdowns that make me want to toss my computer to the wall and delete all that any work that has ever been a thought in my brain. Unfortunately, these emotional breaks happen more often than not, a simple comment or thought will spur into a downwards spiral that makes seemingly no sense to anyone that witnesses. On these days, it’s the thought that my writing will never be good enough, will never have what it takes to be well-versed, well-liked, talked about, my writing will never be successful, is what overcomes me and will cause my brain to riot the thought that there is anything worthy to be written. On these days, every thought in my brain is telling me to give up.

There has never been a time where my heart feels so torn and distraught over the decision to continue writing. Online, there is an abundance of readers, and there is also an abundance of critics. Having your following slowly build, the trickling hateful messages or reoccurring themes that writers will talk badly about your work becomes prevalent and it is a major shock to the system. Content is free, therefore there are no user guidelines to interact or give feedback to the author. Having work that you took days writing, hours editing, weeks creating do poorly with a lack of interaction. All of that is incredibly discouraging and brings you to reflection. It is very disheartening and makes you question yourself. What am I doing wrong? What should I be doing better? Can I be any better?

On the days that my mind is begging me to hang up the thoughts and the characters and the conflicts and the dialogue that flood my brain without permission, “Still” by Niall Horan is a song that has become an outlet. One lyric that repeats is, “Oh, we'll be alright // Oh, it'll be alright”. Clinging to the belief that my purpose lies in my writing, that I will be able to create a character, a conflict, a story that a young adult turns to when they need hope, when they need encouragement, when they need to feel love, then I need to believe that it will be alright. Going back to my furthest memories, there isn’t a time that writing wasn’t part of my life, that it didn’t bring about a source of joy or happiness. Writing is my relief, my therapy, my coping mechanism. Writing is my escape from all that is harmful in the world. Writing is a love affair between my fingertips and my thoughts, the characters the begin to have a say in the direction of their fictional life. On the days that I am feeling like giving up, I have to remind myself why I write. “If honesty means telling you the truth // Well I'm still in love with you.”

I have to remind myself that I am still in love with writing.

“We’ll be a fine line // We’ll be alright.”

Emotions are a prized possession. Going without feeling anything but numb for so long, feeling anything is better than feeling nothing. Feeling something reminds you that you’re alive. And I like to feel alive. It doesn’t matter what it is, I will do anything to feel it. I will pay the price. I will travel the distance. I will take the time. Hate, however, that is the last emotion that I want to feel. Hate is the reaction to sadness. Hate is the lingering remnants that sit in your mind when the tears have dried and the anxiety has passed, when the breathing has steadied, and the heart rate has slowed. Hate is a strong word, that doesn’t tend to linger in my vocabulary, because there are very few things in my world that deserve to be hated. Out of the very few that do make the cut, my brain makes the charting high.

Categorical symptoms of anxiety look like this: highs and lows, extreme fear and nervousness and overwhelming happiness that also terrifies you. Until the age of eighteen, there wasn’t a consistent time where true happiness – that bliss that radiates through your fingertips and makes you smile until your cheeks ache – was felt inside of me. Until the age of eighteen, there wasn’t a toy or object or person or place that could bring me that happiness, that emotion that my heart was desperately craving for.

And then, it happened.

One day, the cords connect, the light switched, the emotions started flooding through my body in the form of smiles and tears and laughter and screaming, and I couldn’t, I wouldn’t do anything to make it stop. One day transformed into a second, and then a third, and then there was a day where my computer was open, and my fingertips were typing vigorously against the keyboard and there was a story with emotion flying from my thumbs without any second thought. Characters were talking and there was a story and there was a meaning and there were tears on my cheeks because I felt like I could feel something.

“Fine Line” by Harry Styles is a song that hits every emotion when listening. On the days where it feels as though there is nothing to be felt inside, it feels as though spreading open my thoughts and my vulnerability, the layers that are hidden to hide me, are the only way to know me. “We’ll be a fine line // We’ll be alright” repeats with resounding trumpets, the vibrato pounding through your veins and making you feel when you so desperately want to. On those days where everything feels like nothing, where existing is simply the way to breathe, where there is nothing in me to write, to speak to breathe, there is a reminder about the fine line in all of us. All of us have a fine line of vulnerability, of creativity, of emotion, of understanding. Cracking that boundary is petrifying and makes every vessel in your chest ache with fear. On the days that I need to feel, I need to remind myself to be open, to walk past that line. On the days that all I want is emotion, I need to remember that I am willing to do anything to have it. “Put a price on emotion // I’m looking for something to buy.”

And so, I repeat the lines, “we’ll be alright” and “it’ll be alright” in my head daily because I desperately choose to believe that that will be true.

#caitlin talks to herself #personal #lyric analysis #anonymous #ask sweetcreatureinthedark #submit to sweetcreatureinthedark #ask horanandstylesaremyonlyreason #submit to horanandstylesaremyonlyreason #i got imagines for a heart

6 notes · View notes

jesperfilth24 · 3 years

Text

Keen with Psychopathy | Discarded Chapter

The dusty brink walls weren’t as uncomfortable as Keen had expected. His head leaned back; drowned by the priceless view. Not of the sun that rose across the glass river, but of the famous Greg Gallrantree who struggled his walk. An inevitable, funny attempt of survival.

Particles of dirt and wooden grain floated around Keen’s Velcro suit. From his prey, he was at the perfect distance; the perfect circumstance; the perfect aim. Construction barrels covered his silhouette. The roof’s shade fell on Keen’s blond scalp as he peaked out.

Action would commence, and he’d get a front-row seat. His sniper rifle clicked. Swayed in gloved hands. His trousers’ belt bore the rouge pistol he kept, though, only on important missions, he’d ever used it. He couldn’t hold his smile. And who would to this sight?

Greg dragged his leg. Bullets had been shot in his left. Blood spilled like a bottle without its cap. Grass soaked the hemoglobin, and turned them into a dry, pale red. He gritted his teeth. Mouth deteriorated by Tabaco and Cocaine. Grunts and swears spewed. Keen’s gun unlocked. The Target limped to the dock’s departure.

Every sound of pain exhilarated Keen. Every groan and adult complaint which escaped Greg’s lips. What struggle, even though death was irrefutable! Everything he’d get, he deserved, and perhaps, had it better with him and Dully to execute him. A pair of Occidere, called or by post-mail to kill whoever tramps maliciously on the Land of the Free, and Home of the Brave. That week’s lucky contestant was Greg Gallentree, a cinematic producer of children shows. Fond of them on set, but fonder of them in bed a tad more.

The eighteen year-old assassin, Keen Tuer. He was to kill him, it was set in stone.

He didn’t do all the work, however.

The shots on Greg’s right leg were skilled; surprisingly skilled; Compared to Dully’s complete miss he’d done two weeks ago. His fever had dragged for ages, yet after ailment, Dully still had it. The bullets here were perfect. They pierced Greg’s leathery epidermis. Inside, gold shone, as red hurried out. Keen nodded his head in agreement. Good progress; wonderful progress even. He smiled, one he showed daily, though, the difference was it wasn’t merely derived from torment or pain. He learned from him? Cute.

Greg jingled his array of keys, herded by a single ring. His one-legged limp continued. The door two yards away. He picked through his keys as he limped closer.

Fingers frantic. He rummaged through the collage of noisy metal. Not the silver short one. Nor the long bronze one either. ‘C’mon…c’mon’ he whispered. Or tried to. Keen could hear it from the abandoned fishing house.

Greg twirled his fingers. Twenty-two keys clanked and brushed together. A handicap for he owned too many estates. Then, Greg twitched with joy. His hand fondled a small ebony key. He exhaled, and rested on the threshold of his pearl yacht. He filled the master lock. It squeaked; it turned; it cried, and it was nothing but a signal; a cue.

Keen raised the scope to his eye, finger on the trigger. Ready for the harsh pull, but he held back. He anticipated the man’s relief. To kill him, wasn’t his only priority, though it was a large part of it. It was to see him relax, draw quiet prayers for a God he didn’t believe in, just for Keen to reap the opportunity away from him. That drive . . . it kept him in such a wonderful job. His innocent smile turned schizophrenic, crafted for adaption. He tapped the trigger. Breath moderate. Toes steady. Hand lusted haste. The bullet went amiss. A quiet pop omitted from the gun.

It pierced Greg’s dangling gold necklace. It’d dung rather than bled. He idled; hand on the door knob. His expression pathetic. A dog who did a misdeed. Even a dirty mutt would know his mistakes, and Greg’s karma was in the form of a French teen with a swift murderous instinct.

He aimed. Scope fluctuated between his neck and his brain. Should he do a bullet to the head? But such a death would be so immediate, it’d be bliss. No—it had to be painful. And news had it that the piranhas were still active.

Reloaded—Keen shot another shell to his intact support. The leg Dully hadn’t shot. The left one. It burst; new, exposed gushes squished, as the bullet took leverage into his thigh. Greg inclined backward. Hands flailed the same rhythm as his scream sang its delightful song. A splash wetted the dock; and now it served a murky red river. Bubbles rose to a surface like the tiny fish that dwelled at his body. And when the blood turned transparent, it mimicked the Kool-aid dear Dully had drunk an hour ago. His body was a sunk raft for little illegal creatures to feed on.

WL Zoo had been at it with their piranha smuggling conflicts. They’d dumped hazardous species in the river after the police—real police—busted them. When will they learn?

But then again, why’d Greg parked his yacht at the hotspot located in infested waters? Was he that stupid? The harbor across had been filled with schooners. Sails cracked and weathered sailors howled. Didn’t have enough room. He’d rather take piranha’s than poor sailors? Imbecile.

The rich just believe to be immortal.

He knelt along the gravel, Greg’s body floated, then struck the river bed. Fish nipped at his drug pumped flesh. Could they get high off that? Probably.

A branch crushed behind him. Tactless and ditzy movement. Keen turned, eyes perked up, his insomnia, three hours of sleep unapparent. It was obvious who it’d been.

Dully bowed, ‘Good morning Master.’ And Keen nodded.

He stepped against the salmon grass and gravel as he came beside him. He stood, out-of-place. His hand rubbed at his bare white shoulder. The only thing exposed in his cat suit.

He swiped short glances at Keen. Cyan—maybe a little more blue—eyes stared. They engrossed himself with the view of Keen.

He’d look back. His neck tense. Dully’s eyes on them, then on the sky. He’d pretended. He’d looked at him. Keen turned away, and he could feel it. His eyes on him. He was looking at him profusely. Though his intention unclear. What did he want?

Keen turned to start the conversation, eyes lay on his skinny figure ‘, The man’s death was quite satisfying don’t you think?’

Not a good conversation topic, but enough for Keen to infer as to why he was anxious.

‘Ah yes Master,’ Dully agreed, he would agree, even though he gagged whenever Keen mentioned killing. But from the way his eyes trailed, and the deep, possibly even deeper glare than what it first had been, this was different. ‘It was very satisfying,’ and Keen faced at the horizon.

Dully stared again, a wave swished along the back of Keen’s hand. The dock a washed brown. Dully opened his mouth. He hanged the words along the edge of his tongue, before he retracted them.

Just say it Dully, just say it!

But he didn’t. Pure silence, pure wave, pure awkwardness.

It wasn’t his responsibility to ask him what was wrong. Dully was fourteen, old enough to say what he needed say, wasn’t he? Keen sighed, warm air rubbed against his veined arm; Dully couldn’t do anything, he needed him, or else he’d die. He couldn’t start a conversation without him. Keen raised, eyes rolled, they kissed the sky—Like always, he must do everything.

He twisted his head, possession looked away at the nick of time. ‘Why’re staring at me so intently? You want me?’ Yes, this was a cringe-inducing one-liner. To break the ice was a good option. It didn’t embarrass him. Dully was a different story.

He blushed, cheeks almost the same color as the splatter of blood beneath his feet.

‘No! I just . . . um…’ he trailed. ‘I just wanted to ask what you think of my shots.’

‘Your shots?’

‘Yes, on Greg, I mean.’ He twiddled his pointers, legs rubbed together. The red on his face defined, bright. What did he want? Like… A compliment?

‘They were okay,’ Keen said. No elaboration, nothing. His heart warmed. He wanted to see how Dully would react. Did he think of Keen as important? He lusted a satisfying reaction. Suzuki, if she was here, she’d do the same.

‘Ah I see . . .’ Dully’s face darkened. Lips pursed, hidden into their thickness. His eyes formed imperceptible water along the tiny crevices between the white orbs and Asian slits. But with a heavy gulp, he seemed to hold it in. Same melodramatic Dully. But he did have somewhat of a reason to be sad.

He had worked hard. No days of sleep, to perfect his gun skills, while Keen had laid on the sofa for a nap. It was hard to sleep at all, much less of a chance with a nitwit shooting a gun. He was handier with a knife. The blade he’d given Dully. A small dagger with a blue line in the middle. He too, would use it only on important missions. Though, compared to his gun, it didn’t mean anything of significance.

Another wave has splashed; a boomed click in his sick brain. It’d hit him; a question which itched him to be answered.

How far does his opinion of me extend? Is it that important to him?

He shouldn’t take it. It’d break him, he was too sensitive—

‘Master…do you think I’m improving?’

The satisfaction was right there for the taking.

He had to grab it.

He had to

‘No,’ Keen lied. ‘I don’t think you are…’

His gulps echoed along Keen’s eardrum. Satisfying. The pain delicious within him, the pain he wished he could monopolized. The pain he had monopolized.

This wasn’t enough, he needed to go the extra mile.

‘I think you should though.’

Dully leaned forward. ‘W-why?’ he stuttered. Eyes blinked as if they’d been peppered. ‘What’ll happen if I don’t improve—Master?’

Keen hid the chuckle behind the sudden seriousness of his voice. ‘Then I guess I have to throw you away.’

To hurt him was a trance. Beyond explanation. To see how his soul fell upward for a brief moment. The sight of his heart getting broken by his measly words were better than every kill he like. He loved his despair.

Keen shot up. ‘Alright, let’s go home, Mister Cooter is probably waiting for us…Dully?…Dully?’

He shook his head, eyes pushed to a heavy close as his navy blue hair flew around him, ‘Ah yes yes Master. Let’s…let’s go.’

He waddled behind him, body shifted as lifeless as Greg’s. And they ventured to the limo.

#action #story #assassins #lgbt representation #i hate my brain #fuck this #will be deleted #young adult fiction

0 notes

positivepsychologyinterventions · 6 years

Text

Facing Uncertainty Without Slamming the Panic Button

“This time, we are holding onto the tension of not knowing, not willing to press the panic button. We are unlearning thousands of years of conditioning.” – Sukhvinder Sircar

This morning I awoke feeling uncertain about the direction my life was taking. Was it what I wanted in all areas? Was I right to be living where I wanted to, in London, away from family? Was I doing the “right thing” restructuring my business, and was I doing the “right thing” going away for two months next year?

I’ve had a few days like this recently, and while I’d like to blame it on my external circumstances, I know differently. I’m simply feeling stuck in thought.

I learned this in what I perceive as “the hard way.”

Three years ago, I experienced trauma that left me feeling empty and abandoned. I got married. You wouldn’t think that this was a traumatic experience, but in the space of one month (and for no apparent reason whatsoever), my family told me that I was “no longer part of their family” and that I “deserved” to be abandoned by my dad when I was four, and my new mother-in-law to be told me that she had “never liked me but that she would try.” Also, I lost my best friend of ten years.

It’s safe to say that my wedding day was a blur and I felt broken. Instead of experiencing wedded bliss, I ended up questioning my relationship and traveling alone to try to “find myself.” Really, I was trying to escape my pain and run from the uncertainty I was feeling about life.

Fast forward three years, and I now know something different. When we are feeling uncertain or doubtful, trying to predict the future or trying to work out the past—whenever we are not in the moment—it is because we are actually caught up in our thinking.

Sure, we can blame many of our external circumstances for these feelings and choices—there are plenty of things that have occurred this week that I could say have “made me” feel uncertain. But since I’ve discovered the truth of who I really am, I now know that my uncertainty is, in fact, coming from me.

Ultimately, our thinking influences how we experience the external world, which means we have a choice in how our circumstances impact us. That being said, it is human nature, and completely normal, to get caught up in our feelings about external events at times. The point is that we don’t need to be scared of our human experience or try to think our way out of it; we just need to accept our feelings until they pass.

It’s an Inside-Out Reality

As I journeyed through life after what felt like a breakdown, I came across a profound understanding about the nature of our human experience, which totally transformed the way I saw and danced with life. I now call this my “Transformational Truth principles.”

These principles explain how our entire reality is thought-created, which means that everything we see in the world and everything we feel comes from our thinking

So, using my current experience as an example: I’ve been feeling uncertain about where I should live, whether I should travel for such a long time, and how I’m going to restructure my business and maintain my finances. I know that I am feeling anxious about these things solely because of my thoughts.

If I weren’t worried about uncertainty (if I didn’t have an “uncertainty bothers me” lens), then it wouldn’t upset me at all. If I focused on the potential of my business growth, the excitement of the travel journey, and the beautiful feeling of living where I want to be living in London, I’d be feeling that thinking instead.

So, external events that are happening can’t impact us, unless what we believe about them bothers us. It’s the same with anything. If someone criticizes us, it can’t impact us unless we believe it ourselves.

Say someone criticized my creative talents, for example; I would probably laugh because I see myself as creative. If, like with my wedding, they criticized my worthiness, my ability to be loved, or left me, I might sob into my pillow for days, because at times, like many of us, I doubt my self-worth and question if I’m lovable.

Just because people thought I was unlovable, that doesn’t mean I am. The only reason it impacted me was because I believed it myself. In this way the external only ever points us to what we think about ourselves, and not to the truth.

Our Thoughts Are Not the Truth

We get so caught up in believing our own stories that we often forget to step back and see that what we think is just thought. Thoughts aren’t always facts. What’s more, you might notice how our thinking fluctuates. We can think differently about the same thing in each different moment. That’s because our thoughts are transient, and fresh new thinking is available to us in each moment.

When you understand this, you might well wonder, “Well, what is the truth then?” The truth is underneath our thinking. Within all of us there is a wisdom—a clarity—that is innately accessible to us, if we just allow the space to listen to it.

We do this by simply seeing our thoughts as “just thought” floating around in our head. Noticing this allows our thoughts to drop away—without us doing anything.

Allowing Space and Flowing

Usually, instead, we are likely to have a whole host of thoughts around how to react when we feel anxious about uncertainty.

For me personally, I would usually want to force and control things in order to “fix” my lack of certainty over my relationship or whatever my uncertainty might be in the moment—living where I was living, traveling, or restructuring my business.

You might make lists of action plans, or work out worst-case scenarios, or analyze why it happened.

This has always been a temptation of mine, and I spent months on this after my wedding, trying to work out if I should be with my husband or not, whether life would forever be difficult if I had children, why my in-laws didn’t like me, and why my dad left.

But, again, in the same way I now understand that it is not the external that creates my feelings about uncertainty, I also understand that there is no need to force certainty, or even look for the “why.” Sometimes there isn’t one.

Certainty Is an Illusion

It’s an illusion that there is any certainty in the first place. Life is always evolving and, as such, there is no safety net beyond the one we imagine. We do this all the time, but the only certainty in life is that there isn’t any!

Anything we predict is just our mind trying to “fix something,” which is futile. It can seem scary to think that we have no certainty, that we can’t fix things, but when we understand that there is actually nothing to fix—because nothing is broken—we can settle back into the flow of life.

I’m not saying it always feels easy, but I have experienced how my feelings about my wedding traumas settled down when I began to understand this.

We Are Universally Guided and Already Whole

We only see that there is something to “fix” because this is, again, our construction of reality. We are unlearning thousands of years of conditioning of how we view the world: ideas that certainty exists, and that we need to fix ourselves if things don’t look how we think they should.

Sydney Banks, the original inspirer of my Transformational Truth principles, said:

“If the only thing people learned was not to be afraid of their experience, that alone would change the world.”

Because, actually, there is nothing to fear. I believe we are always exactly where we need to be—because we are part of this amazingly miraculous universe, which is guided by some sort of powerful intelligence that no one really understands. In this way, we are already whole, always connected, and always safe. There is nothing to fix, because we are not broken.

Ultimately, the “answer” we are looking for is pointless. There is no “answer,” and we don’t need one. All we need to do is see how life really works and allow ourselves to accept where we are in each moment, knowing that it is a transient, thought-created experience of life.

We just need to flow, move with what happens, and sit in our feelings, knowing that they are thought-based, they can’t harm us, and they will soon pass.

In her poem “She Is a Frontier Woman,” Sukhvinder Sircar explains this well in saying that all we really need to do is hold on to the tension of not knowing and not press the panic button.

Allow the Creative Force of Life Flow

And so, this morning, as I woke feeling uncertain, I got out my yoga mat and journal. I stretched, I moved my body, I sat in the feelings I had, knowing that they would pass, even though they felt horrible.

I knew that they were not part of me, but simply my thinking, trying to convince me of something I believed that was fundamentally not the truth. I let go. I flowed. I accepted what I didn’t know. I didn’t press the panic button. Instead, I wrote this.

In the space where I could have (and would have previously) worried and attempted to solve things, the creative force of life—which is actually underneath all of our thoughts—simply flowed through me. In a much more beautiful way than it could have done had I indulged my imagined beliefs about the external.

When we sit back, creation gifts us with exactly what we need in each moment. We simply need to understand how this works and allow it.

This post is courtesy of Tiny Buddha.

from World of Psychology https://ift.tt/2EvjcmK via IFTTT

#IFTTT #World of Psychology

0 notes

thekoreanlass · 6 years

Text

Somehow I often stumble across Ji Hyun Woo’s dramas and I just stay for good, enjoying his acting and the entirety of the drama. For some reason, he’s a magnet of good content and he’s just undeniably a really good actor in the present time.

The last time I watched him was during ‘Angry Mom’ and even then he was really good at portraying the teacher role while concocting a potential romance with Kim Hee Sun’s character in the story, which went down the pipe in the end. Anyway, that drama was good, nonetheless, since it focused more on school and politics, good parenting. and justice.

Now, as soon as I heard the team up between Ji Hyun Woo and Lee Si Young for the medical romcom drama, Risky Romance (also Life and Death Romance), I became really excited, looking forward to another superb performance by not just him but also Lee Si Young.

Risky Romance is Ji Hyun Woo and Lee Si Young’s reunion drama since acting together in 2010 KBS2’s ‘Becoming a Billionaire‘ drama series.

The Story

Risky Romance tells the story of a genius neurosurgeon, Han Seung Joo (Ji Hyun Woo), who has a great desire for winning and an empathetic endocrinologist, Joo In Ah (Lee Si Young), who is obsessed with hormones.

Ha Seung Joo used to be a very warm and understanding person until he witnesses the death of his close friend and gets himself into an unexpected car accident, which transformed him into a person with anger management problems with extremely fluctuating emotions. He lashes out at others whenever he is angry and nothing can stop him now.

Throw in a perky endocrinologist, Joo In Ah, that is very obsessed with hormones that she can discuss it to anyone all day without getting tired of it, and the drama will surely spiral to even more chaos as she determinedly follow Han Seung Joo around, begging him to take a blood test with her to know the level of his testosterone. Joo In Ah strongly believes that Han Seung Joo’s abrupt change is because of his malfunctioning hormones; the overproduction of testosterone means more male dominance and anger.

But because Ha Seung Joo is a stubborn prick with a level one-hundred pride that would stop him from taking the test to deny Joo In Ah’s claim, he does everything to defy her even as far as going below the belt and crossing the line.

Plus, for some unfounded accusation after seeing her picture in his dead friend’s belongings, he deduces that Joo In Ah is the reason why his friend is dead and eventually he turns into an even more asshole towards her, wanting to take everything from her even if Joo In Ah looks like she couldn’t even harm a mosquito.

What Ha Seung Joo doesn’t know is how wrong he was and that his plot for revenge is soon going to backfire at him in the most devastatingly comic fashion. Falling in love has never been more intense than this hormone-centric medical romcom drama!

What I like about the drama?

The drama has been interesting since the beginning, creating a more unique way of joining the medical drama trope with less hospital politics and less operating room scenes–that are rather taxing to watch if you don’t have a medical background or you’re not really into it or you don’t want to be bothered by so much technicalities–and instead with topics revolving around hormones and how it affects our chemistry and emotions.

I guess, the creator’s intention is to make the viewers more comfortable with a medical drama by talking about hormones and something more relatable, which is romance. Add a punch of comedy, some mystery and drama and voila!–you get that less typical drama you might be looking for.

To me, however, it is something new but not so new, yet I must admit that the story is extremely fun while throwing in an extreme case of love-hate relationship between a very angry Han Seung Joo and a gentle sheep like Joo In Ah. They just exude the kind of chemistry that is very natural that it makes me want to overlook Han Seung Joo’s extreme asshole personality that will definitely throw you off guard if it happens in real life. I mean, I’m definitely not going to talk to Han Seung Joo if I’m Joo In Ah since he’s just a mean bully that doesn’t deserve my attention. He’s like a high school kid begging for attention with nothing else good to do in life but make her life a living hell.

Gladly, as good to be true as it sounds, Joo In Ah is a saint that easily forgives. It’s her strong suit even if sometimes she looks like a pushover, especially whenever she just allows Se Ra to trample over her. I guess, that’s what makes their contrasting personalities compatible. That they are different so they can fill in each other’s shortcomings. Joo In Ah is like the sponge that buffers Han Seung Joo’s anger and maybe she’s key to him returning back to his old warm and understanding self. After all, one can only be as angry. Hormones may malfunction and fluctuate, but just like Joo In Ah told Han Seung Jo, it’s a matter of control over those hormones.

The reference to medical stuff and the realness in their acting plus slapstick comedy is a total yes for me.

What I don’t like about the drama?

Joo Se Ra – she’s a total bitch who is ambitious and wants to take everything that is Joo In Ah’s even if the latter is only showing her good. She blames her stepsister for stepping into the family registry and for being extremely better than her and for their parents’ death. She’ll be damned once she finds out though she’s the reason why they were out that night and in car that drove them to their deaths and not Joo In Ah, who took the blame for Se Ra.

Is it just me or Han Seung Joo has done more whining than investigating what really happened to his friend and who caused it while he raided the Joo sisters home? It’s just annoying that I find this true while Cha Jae Hwan was the one doing all the research for him. Now, Seung Joo lives in blissful ignorance while in a constant battle with his wits about whether to trust In Ah or not because he’s not really doing what he aimed for while Jae Hwan is the first one to know everything.

Honestly, the drama is also frustrating in a lot of aspects. But what really annoys me is how Seung Joo could throw tantrums when all he needs to do is ask Joo In Ah about what she knows and everything should have been solved. He wouldn’t be such an asshole to her once he realizes how stupidly wrong he was about her.

Hospital politics just sucks. It sometimes make me think whether this happens in real life and if it does, then are these surgeons and doctors only playing with people’s lives? I do hope, though, that this is more false than true.

Characters

In terms of their characterization, I think the two leads are a natural. Both are frustrating at some points, but all that gets washed away whenever something really good happens and they just have these moments when they open up to each other without them realizing.

Plus, Joo In Ah is a bona fide hormone-obsessed doctor with some fun fact that will really make you laugh and amazed at how easily words flow from her mouth and how it gives her a keen eye at diagnosing someone. She’s empathetic and really kind and Lee Si Young’s gentle features show that.

Han Seung Joo is a little spit fire that is more talk and childish ploys to bully Joo In Ah which is both infuriating and amusing at the same time. He’s a ticking time bomb that is more comedic and silly-looking than annoying when angry, which is his saving grace. Gladly, Ji Hyun Woo is naturally likable.

On the other hand, I find the other characters still difficult to watch, especially Se Ra who is cunning and vicious in her own little way whenever she’s thinking about her bitterness towards In Ah. You can probably call her the modern version of Cinderella’s stepsisters or something.

Then there’s Cha Jae Hwan who looks really adorable, but fails to be the better person the moment he realizes how Han Seung Joo looks at Joo In Ah who he also has feelings for. Other than that, I am still waiting for the day that he’ll step up to his father and not cower towards him. Your parents can only break you so much, but even if you live for their dear approval, I think he’s old enough to learn to break away from what’s truly holding him down.

Why you should watch it

Risky Romance may be just one of those typical medical romcoms that’s trying to be at least slightly different from the rest, but anyone who is looking for something light and dramatic at the same time will really love this more character-focused drama despite some of its characters being a little frustrating at times and its hospital politics side drama that will want you to question authority.

Plus, you just can’t help but keep an eye on a very angry male lead who’s a few seconds from being arrested. Just glad we have a really good-natured female lead who will buffer his anger.

Rating

Thumbs up to this love-hate romcom. It’s the first time I’m seeing real action between a love-hate relationship so I’m giving this drama a 4.3 out of 5.

On going: Review on ‘Risky Romance’ – Love story raging with hormones Somehow I often stumble across Ji Hyun Woo's dramas and I just stay for good, enjoying his acting and the entirety of the drama.

#2018 #comedy #Ji Hyun Woo #Lee Si Young #MBC #medical #popular #recommended #review #Risky Romance #romance #Romantic Comedy #thekoreanlass

0 notes

amcdxplr · 6 years

Text

#AMCwrites

2017.

Decembers make the perfect space for hope, and hope will always be something to write about.” @anniemarrr

Okay. This is one of the days that I let my heart cries out over IG. This is one of the days that I post and eventually put it down, archive or delete it. This one of the days that I write my heart. I let my sentimental self goes out of my shell. 🙈 Anyhow, here’s how my heart bleeds words. 😬 #AMCwrites

This is the most craziest year ever! A whirlpool of feelings and travels that kept me distant from my “life”. This has been the year that I just wanted to die. To disappear. I felt unwanted. I felt loser. And loneliness became a thing to me. I felt so bad to the point that my heart will explode against my sternum. At least in between bliss and melancholy. In between inspired days and negative hopes. In between beautiful days and gloomy ones. I wouldn’t like to forget the days that I was just so happy. Happy to the point of I forgot to check my phone. Moments that I just laughed until my tummy ached. Moments that a cup of black coffee made my day. S/O to my P&G beshie who always making one for me.

2017 was the most colourful year ever! *thanks Bean for the idea 😅* As if I splashed all colours to my 2017 canvas. Painting my dark days to screaming colours. Making my colourful days to gloomy days. 👩🏻‍🎨🤦🏻‍♀️

My introversion took over my entire being this year. There was a time that I went back to my shell and just waited to calm my agitated self. When I went out, I realised I am now replaceable. Well, I am... at the first place. I just realised it. Whether I will accept it or not, the truth shrieked that I’m a full bloom adult at least in terms of losing people and accepting the fact that life is uncontrollable. And planning my life out my almost 3decade-“home”. 😭

But after all, all I can do is to breathe, close my eyes, and pray. And... write down my feelings to release them from my heart to the werld!

My family got a rough time this year. But I got to say, “we made it”. God’s grace was, is and will be with us forever. I have strong conviction with this! And for that, I’m thankful beyond words to our Lord God. He’s so kind. I know by heart I have bunch of reasons to be grateful at the tailend of this year. I’m so thankful. Always. Thankful. Forever.

Before 2018 will kick in, I would love to say few things about beautiful people of my 2017. The ones who opened avenue for connections. The ones who I saw me out my shell.

2018 Game! Month-end close ulit sa office.

Abi & Nica. My time-travellers buddies. ☺️ See you soon in our once a year travel. Cheers to adulting and more tricycle moments. Running under the rain. Jumping over water. Bus rides with man-made helicopter sound-effect. 😂 And travelling back to our teenage days.

To Ate Mona. ❤️ Do you still remember how we cried at the corner of kalihiman and upgraded it to parking area? 😬 Those convos that we cannot do anything but to cry for. Sad days.

Take time to breathe and have a life away from judgemental people. I got you when it comes to wicked small-minded people. I admire you for letting your heart out and being true to yourself. Hope to see you one day at anywhere in this werld over coffee and with our happy hearts and fully-stamped passports. I cannot wait to tell each other “we made it!” to the life we’ve been praying for. 💛

I thank you Ms. Bean for being my friend. 🧡 My younger sister. My spiritual travel buddy. My bully friend. A friend who gave me “advices” which are painfully true. “Itago ang crayons.” Thank you for joining me to the whirlpool of feelings. You’re my wake-up caller. Please always be there for me whenever I want a conversation at Farmacy. PS. When you ask a favor, bibilhan din kita ng something. 😂 More than Php8 pa haha. Yay! Our topics have grown over the years! Take care of your heart ha! 😁 #BOtrvlz haha

Thank you Ms. JKLM. My 12D10 buddy. Your personality is beautiful. You’re so pleasant. And you’re so in love in very beautiful ways. Ansarap mainlove kapag binabangit mo ang “baby” #teambaby. I smile whenever I remember your dream. “Mag-homeschool ang mga anak ko.” Lovely vision. I miss the days we spent at Togyo. Singing Taylor Swift’s. Watching Obamas, royalties whatabouts and celebrity weddings. You influenced me to watch good movies. I always be here from our fluctuated weights to coffee sesh and life convos. And thank you for saying yes to my unofficial wedding invitation kahit natraffic kung saan man si groom. 😅 Ui, I’ll be cheering you for different chapters of your life! PS. Hindi ko kukurutin yung mga babies mo. Haha. Have a wonderful wedding! God bless you and Mr. Arga and your future femelee!

Rhealyn! You’re young beautiful and clever lady. We are connected by our admiration to Sir B. And friendship challenges. Study well! And don’t forget to have fun! Your brilliant mind deserves equally brilliant mind. 🙂

To Venice. I hope I could talk to you in person and know you a little bit more. Thank you for showing me a beautiful kind of friend. I will visit you in Zamb but I don’t know when. 🤦🏻‍♀️ May I call you a friend even we just talked over viber haha 🙈 PS. I will not give her up. 😣

Andddd to Giyang You’re important in my life. I miss you. Marami na akong kwentong naipon. 😁 Any chance na makita kita, yayakapin lang kita. 😣😭

0 notes