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tk-writer · 3 years

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Don't Mess With Mando. [Din Djarin x Reader]

You find out the hard way what happens when you irritate a Mandalorian.

Word Count: 1302

~~~~~

The Razor Crest was not a large spaceship.

There were a few nooks and crannies, of course. Most of which were so small that only the kid had hope of fitting inside.

Which meant that finding a place to hide was pretty much impossible.

Of course, you wouldn’t have had to worry about things like hiding places or where to go if you had just kept your mouth shut and your hands to yourself. He was just so fun to mess with. You couldn’t help but poke fun at the Mandalorian, the guy who was all about his business and never smiled. Well, probably. If he did, you wouldn’t have known.

“Why do you have to wear that mask all the time?” you asked during takeoff. It was going to be a long ride, so you figured why not get to know the person you had hired to bring you across the galaxy. However, you quickly learned that he wasn’t too keen on friendly banter.

“Because,” he replied in a gruff voice. “This is the Mandalorian way.”

“What’s the Mandalorian way?”

“It’s an ancient tradition of noneya.”

“Noneya what? Oh."

You furrowed your brows once you realized he was being facetious. How dare someone like him be funnier than you.

“I bet it’s cuz you’re reeeally ugly,” you cheesed, purposely pressing his buttons.

He turned his head towards you, probably glaring from beneath his headgear, and you gave him a snarky smile as revenge for his clever comeback from earlier.

Strike one.

His stubborn silence only made you bolder. As the ship sailed through the stars towards its distant destination, you grew bored and decided to pass the time by checking out his Beskar armor. Physically, of course.

"Woooow, this is so shiny,” you knocked on one of his shoulder plates and cooed in admiration. He pretended like he didn’t hear you, but you heard him sigh quietly when you knocked on it again.

“Why don’t you go play with the kid,” his suggestion sounded more like a command.

“Because I like you. And I like annoying you.”

He sighs again, this time more audibly.

Strike two.

The ship’s hyperdrive went down for an hour or so when you passed the halfway point. Luckily there were no patrol ships in this sector, but you noticed Mando was still in a mood despite having no threat of outside interference with his mission. You genuinely wanted to cheer him up, you really did. Unfortunately he saw it differently.

“Aw, come on, Mando!” you said while poking in between his chest armor plates. “We’re almost there, anyway. Now we have more time to hangout!”

He flinched when your finger poked him in the ribs. He grabbed your hand in one swift movement and held it still with a firm grip. It didn’t hurt, but you certainly couldn’t move.

“Enough with the poking,” he growled, his voice low and authoritative.

You smirked, unknowingly digging your own grave.

“I guess big bad Mandalorians have weaknesses just like the rest of us.”

“Poke me again, and there will be consequences,” he warned. It made you scoff. There was no way he’d lay a finger on a paying client. You thought it was just another one of his empty threats.

You thought wrong.

When he turned his attention back to the controls, you slowly, slowly wormed your finger into that same spot that made him jump before. He jolted like he had just been shocked with electricity, then swung his chair around to face you.

Strike three.

“Hey, what’s that look for, huh?” words fall from your mouth that make absolutely no sense as the Mandalorian rises to his feet. He’s approaching you so menacingly that you begin to think something very unpleasant will happen once he reaches you.

So you run.

You don’t get very far, since there’s nowhere to go besides the storage. Except for the kid’s hiding spot, there’s no place of refuge and no secret passage to sneak into. You’re basically a sitting duck waiting to be caught.

Heavy footsteps grow louder and louder. You look this way and that, getting more nervous as each second passes, until you suddenly feel a pair of strong hands wrap around your waist and lift you off your feet.

“I told you,” he grunts in your ear with fingers pressed into your sides. “There will be consequences.”

With your thought process in shambles, you start to babble, squirming in his grip because the feelings of his hands on your waist and his fingers softly digging into your skin is so unbearable and maddening and ticklish. Your legs dangle in the air, the backs of your ankles beating against his armor uselessly. You can’t tell if he’s doing it on purpose or completely unaware, but either way it’s sensory overload.

“Wahahait! Let me gooo!”

He ignores you, tightening his grip ever so slightly to inhibit your wiggling. His hands cup your ribs and dig gently, not enough to hurt, but enough to make you laugh.

“AAAAAH! Heh-hey!! Don’t, ahahaha, stooop!”

He lets out a chuckle that you barely hear over your squealing and thrashing.

Oh, he’s definitely doing it on purpose.

He’s a strong guy, you have to give him that. The fact that he can hold you a few inches off the floor while tickling the shit out of you as you struggle against him is a monument to his strength. You would’ve asked about his workout routine if you weren’t so busy trying to escape this unwarranted and uncharacteristic tickle attack of his.

It's already bad, but it gets worse when he starts pinching your sides at random. Not being able to see how his hands are moving means that you can't brace yourself when the tickles slam into your brain. You beg, you plead, somewhat halfheartedly because you know he won't let go until he decides you've had enough. If you hadn't known any better, you'd think he was actually enjoying himself.

Your laughter must have woken up the kid, because after a few minutes you see a vision of green right below your feet. The tickles cease and your boots hit the floor once more, at a safe distance from the little guy of course. Mando scoops him up in his arms and coddles him like a little baby. It’s adorable, but you’re too busy catching your breath to say anything about it.

“Sorry, kid. Didn’t mean to wake you.”

He coos in response, then looks at you with an expression of concern.

“Your dad’s… a jerk…” you say as you heave. “It’s all his fault you can’t sleep.”

He giggles once he realizes you’re alright. Mando takes him back to his hideout and tucks him in. You hear him say goodnight in a sing songy voice that’s so tooth rottingly sweet that you have to physically restrain yourself from commenting, lest you find yourself on the receiving end of more merciless tickles.

When he’s done, he turns around to look at you. God, what you’d give to be able to read his expression right now. Is it amusement? Boredom? Apathy?

“Playtime’s over,” he finally says. “We need to get moving.”

He starts to climb back into the cockpit, but stops when he hears you call out for him.

“That’s it?” you ask, a little disappointed.

“What.”

“Those were some weak consequences. If that’s all you’re gonna do, maybe I’ll keep bugging you.”

“That’s a roundabout way of saying you want me to do that again.”

“I… I never… hey!!”

You can feel your face heating up faster than a summer on a desert planet. Moments like this make you wish you had a Beskar helmet of your own.

You assume he's about to give you the cold shoulder, but instead he surprises you.

He laughs.

#mandalorian #the mandalorian #din dijarin x reader #tickling #mando x reader #sfw #dyn jarren #din djarin #din djarin imagine #dyn jarren imagine #goodbye i will now disappear forever #ler!din djarin

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thewritingcaptain · 5 years

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A Simple Plan (Chapter 4)

His Spidey sense tingled. Something was coming, but he couldn't bring himself to move, not when he was barely holding his breathing even as it was.

Peter has a panic attack, and Tony and Peter have a heavy conversation.

Chapter below the cut!

After a few hours, Peter finally started to come around again.

The first thing he noticed was how much better he felt. Thank God for his body's crazy healing power and that advanced metabolism of his. Whatever drugs had been in his system and whatever injuries he'd sustained - both from being knocked out and from patrolling like crazy the past few days - were gone now, and he felt… good. Strangely, better than he had in days.

The second thing was the absence of another one of his senses.

It was hard to pinpoint, at first, but he suddenly realized he couldn't hear anything. He also still couldn't see, but at least the gag hadn't been put back.

He shifted just slightly and had to stifle a gasp. Shit. Some sensory deprivation of course increased the sensitivity of the ones he did have access to, and right now that was mainly touch. He could feel every inch of the chair he was tied to, the roughness of the fabric covering it, even the sudden scratchiness of his clothes, and it was all too much.

He forced himself to take deep breaths. He couldn't freak out, not here, not like this. There wasn't anything he could do to make it stop, so the best thing for it was to hold still and try to focus on something, anything else.

Was he alone? He had no way of telling, with no sight or hearing. Why was he suddenly not allowed to hear? Had he done something? He had no recollection of doing anything. He'd just been asleep… right?

His Spidey sense tingled. Something was coming, but he couldn't bring himself to move, not when he was barely holding his breathing even as it was.

He sensed someone right above him a minute before the hand touched his back. It was light, but he still jumped and flinched involuntarily. A second later, it lifted, and he felt the release of whatever was stopping him from hearing was removed. Immediately he slumped forward, taking a few steadying breaths. For a moment, the input of sound, even as quiet as the room around him was, was excruciating; but then he readjusted, and it became bearable again. Still an edge, from being blindfolded, but definitely better.

He wasn't quite recovered enough to speak yet, but the voice didn't seem to notice or care. "Kid? You alright? You were hyperventilating." The man's voice was soft again, and he tried and failed to not flinch as a hand touched his shoulder again.

"I'm-" Peter faltered. "I'm fine." That was all he had. He couldn't explain to him that he'd almost had a panic attack or that he'd been paralyzed by the sensory overload. Normal kids didn't do either of those things. Well, maybe not the sensory overload, although he supposed a panic attack was probably not unwarranted in this situation, even if the situation itself wasn't why he'd started freaking out.

"Hmm." The man didn't sound convinced, and Peter was suddenly glad for the blindfold and the restraints. It made the signs of a panic attack much less obvious, since he couldn't see his eyes or the way he was shaking. Or at least he hoped the man didn't notice the way he was shaking.

The man in question was, of course, Tony. And to say he wasn't convinced would be an understatement.

He'd put earmuffs on the kid when he'd come back in so that he could work without waking him up. He didn't realize it would cause him to nearly have a panic attack, which, if the way he could feel the kid shaking under his hand was any indication, was exactly what had happened. As soon as Friday had alerted him that he was waking up, he'd rushed over to remove them, but apparently he hadn't been quick enough.

The kid was still breathing hard, and Tony knelt in front of him, squeezing his shoulders. He wasn't good with comfort, or kids, so he wasn't entirely sure the best way to proceed - never mind the fact that the kid was technically his hostage and that took the whole scenario to a different level of weird. Still, he'd had panic attacks before, had dealt with them before, and he couldn't in good conscience not try to help him.

"Hey, talk to me, kid. Just breathe. In and out." He could see his eyes fluttering under the blindfold, his fists clenching and unclenching as he tried to regulate his breathing. "Good. That's it."

When he started to feel like he was getting enough oxygen again and his panic faded, Peter opened his eyes under the blindfold again and straightened a little. "I… thanks," he murmured, embarrassed. Way to make them think he was weak. "You didn't have to-..."

"I'm the one who sent you into it, so I think I did," Tony told him firmly. He squeezed his shoulder. "Sorry, kid. I was just trying to let you sleep without having to worry about waking you up while I was working. It wasn't meant to be a punishment or anything."

Peter nodded slowly. "Why are you being so nice to me?" he blurted, unable to stop the question before it escaped.

He could hear it as he stood up, pulling away slowly and starting to walk away. "I told you, kid. This really doesn't have anything to do with you. It's nothing personal, and there's no reason to make it such." There was a pause, and he heard a slight scraping sound, like a chair being pulled out. "Why? Would you rather I be a jackass? Because I'm quite famous for it in some circles."

The question had hit a bit harder than he'd realized it would, although in retrospect he should have known the kid would start asking questions like that eventually. He didn't like the fact that the kid was clearly afraid of him, or at least of the situation, even if it was only to be expected. He'd done a pretty good job of hiding it so far, and had reacted way better than Tony had feared, for sure. A mild panic attack and some questions were probably the best case scenario, to be honest.

Still, he pulled back almost involuntarily when the kid asked, and, suddenly realizing he probably wasn't comfortable with the close contact, paced back over to his chair by what he was working on and sat down, hoping the distance would provide them both a modem of comfort. He answered the best he could - the only way he could without getting too deep into the situation - and was surprised when the boy cracked a small smile at his attempt at levity.

"No, I guess I wouldn't, but… it would make more sense," he answered with the best shrug his bonds would allow.

"A lot of things I do don't make sense to the rest of the world at first," Tony told him. "But it'll all come out eventually."

It was quiet for a few minutes. Tony studied him, waiting for the next question, but when it didn't come immediately, he picked up his tablet and went back to work.

Peter was simply trying to digest this information and decide what, if anything, he should ask next. Despite his captor's attempt at humor and the fact he hadn't done anything to him yet, really, he knew that it probably wouldn't last forever, and if he pushed too hard, he could make him mad, or at the very least irritated enough he wouldn't be so kind anymore. Still, he was feeling better, and he had determined by now the bonds keeping him in the chair were just rope, so they would be pretty easy for him to break. He knew if he was going to make a move, he'd have to do it soon, before the resurgence of strength was gone and he was weakened by his own metabolism turning against him. But he also knew he'd only have one shot, and he'd have to be careful how he went about it. And any kind of information he could get as to what this guy knew and what was going on was something he could potentially use in his favor, so he decided pressing on was his best bet. He steadied himself, taking a breath before asking the next, most prudent question he could think of.

"Why me?"

Tony startled slightly, glancing back at the kid with his brows drawn together. "What?" That wasn't what he'd expected to hear as the next question, admittedly.

"You said it's not personal," the kid said, repeating his words back to him. "So… why me, then? I mean, there has to be some reason you came after me and not just some other random kid on the street." He paused, tilting his head at him. "Or did you actually just pick me off the street? Do you even know my name?"

"Of course I know your name, kid." Tony couldn't help but scoff, even as he considered the weight of the question, and the best way to answer it. "It's just… it's complicated, alright? Let's just say I picked you for a connection you have. Probably unwittingly, I hate to say, but you're not the one that the knowledge matters to, so…" He shrugged, forgetting that the kid couldn't see him. "I know it sucks, but I can't really tell you much else right now. Like I said, everything will come out in time." Most of it would, at least. He didn't want to freak him out by telling him the truth - that his parents were basically evil scientists, or at least working for them, and were definitely involved in hurting and experimenting on a lot of people, including a girl not that much older than him. He had a feeling that was a bit too much for anyone, let alone a kid, let alone one who'd already been through so much in little more than a day.

Peter just nodded, sensing he wasn't going to get much more than that on that particular topic. So he switched it up a bit. "And what if my… connection doesn't care about me the way you hoped they would? What then?" He hesitated, unable to hide the hint of fear that crept in his voice, as much for the answer as what would happen if it played out. "Would you hurt me? Is that the idea here?"

Tony frowned, glancing at his tablet and sending a silent command to Friday. An instant later, the kid's vitals popped up on the screen, and yes, his heartbeat was definitely rocketing. This was taking an unpleasant turn rather quickly.

The kid was still rambling, the questions seeming to get increasingly dark as he went. "I mean, I guess if you're going to torture me there's not much I can do about it," he was saying, mindless of the fact that Tony had tuned him out for at least a solid minute. "But I, uh, don't see the point in the whole kind charade then. Unless you're just trying to get me to trust you, but, I mean, I'm not dumb enough to try to fight you either way, so, uh, you don't really have to-"

"Kid." Tony got up, going back over to him and putting a hand on his leg. "Listen, just... stop right there." He could hardly stand to hear it, and not just because it was so close to what Cap had already said. He sighed, waiting until the kid's mouth was closed and he was sure he was done before speaking again. "Look, I can't answer half of those questions right now, alright? I'm still trying to figure half of this out myself. I don't want to hurt you, that I can promise you, but I can't promise you that I won't, intentionally or no. That's a level of low I don't want to stoop to, but it's also a level the people you're connected to already have, alright?"

The words felt like a punch in the gut to Peter. "You… these people… have someone you care about. They hurt them?" He wracked his brain, trying to figure out who he could ever be connected to that would do something like that. His connections were just so… limited. Honestly, he didn't even have a job, so no boss, no coworkers, just… one good friend, his parents, and a few extended family members. Unless he was missing something…

The man's voice pulled him from his thoughts again. "Yes," he agreed quietly. "That's… exactly it. You're my bartering chip here to get them back, and… and I can't honestly tell you the extent I would go to to do it. I'm sorry, kid, but that's all I've got."

The room was silent again for a long moment in the wake of the confession. Peter slumped back in the chair, confusion and worry and even some fear swirling around in his head as he tried to make sense of what he'd been told. It made sense, even if he didn't like it, although he was still completely lost as to who he could be connected to and why they would do something like that. And he couldn't help the fear added into the mix, even if the reasons behind it weren't what one would expect. He was sure he could handle whatever this guy could dish out, but there were so many ways he could accidentally be revealed as something more than a normal kid. What with his strength, and his healing factor especially… there was no hiding that, not really, not if he had any first aid experience at all.

Even with the blindfold, Tony could read the conflict warring within him plain as day on the kid's face, and he knew there was little he could do about it. He wasn't good at comfort in general, and he knew there was little he could say in this situation to make it better anyway.

So he did the next best thing for both of them. Ignoring the twisting in his stomach, he got up again and changed the subject. "Anyway, kid, I'm working on a better solution for you than having to be stuck in that chair, but it's not quite ready yet. Another few hours at least." He moved back over to his desk, picking up his phone and pocketing it.

Peter heard him moving away, and he knew what he was going to say when he heard him shifting and pocketing stuff before he even said it. "I have to run a few errands," the man continued, confirming Peter's suspicion. "So I'm going to leave you alone for a bit. So long as you stay right there and don't try anything stupid while I'm gone, I won't go full out with the trussing bit again. Can we agree on that?"

He could feel the man's eyes on him, and he gave him a single nod, again glad that he was blindfolded because he knew if he wasn't he wouldn't have been able to bring himself to meet his eyes. "Yeah," he murmured, hoping he didn't see through the lie. If he was leaving, he'd have to take his chance to escape. He didn't have much other choice. He had to at least try.

If the man suspected anything, though, he didn't say so. He simply sighed, and Peter heard him turn away. "Good. Then I'll leave you be for now. If you're really good, I'll be sure to bring you something to eat back with me."

Peter willed his stomach not to growl at that, frowning slightly. Before he could say anything back, he heard the door again, and he knew the man was gone.

He groaned a bit, letting his head fall back again. It was easy for him to push thoughts of food away when no one brought it up, but as soon as he'd said it, he'd become painfully aware the only thing he'd had in hours was whatever that drink the man had given him earlier was. He'd had breakfast and lunch at school, and a sandwich directly after school from his favorite sandwich place, but he'd been abducted as he was leaving there. It had likely taken hours for him to wake up the first time and then he'd slept for he didn't even know how many more. So it was probably at least into the next day at this point, and considering the way his metabolism was, and the fact that all of his powers weakened with all the time he went without eating… it was a safe bet to say that he really did need to eat something, like, yesterday.

Right now, though, he needed to focus. There was only one way he could remedy that problem right now, and that would involve him actually getting out of these restraints. He knew he would only get one shot at this.

He took a few minutes to put together a rough plan - and to give it enough time to make sure the man was really gone - and then took a deep breath.

In one fluid motion, he jerked upwards, snapping his bonds on his wrists and going to work on getting free.

Taglist: @httydlovena @tell-that-to-my-feather @lyrical-harmony

Let me know if you want to be added! :)

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loltraumabrain · 4 years

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Ugh. Just Ugh.

Okay so we’ve been in the UK almost a year now, and we’re moving house. This has been the most batshit unpleasant palaver I have EVER experienced in my life, and I’m including a good portion of the divorce and the move across the Atlantic in that estimation, because if there’s one thing I fucking hate it’s being homeless and in the US I’ve only ever had to do it for twenty four hours but at the minute we’re in the middle of a two and a half week stint.

[I am aware that people who are permanently homeless have it worse. This is a venting blog. Fuck off with your oppression/depression/grimdark olympics]

First off, the UK rental system seems designed to stress everyone the fuck out. We’ve been looking for a place since April and only got accepted for one on August 18th, the day before our lease ended. You’ll notice this is being written on August 26th. I’ll get to that. The reason for this extraordinary length of time searching is that a) once you find a place you like, you have to put in an application and wait for the landlord to get back to you. During the time you are waiting, the place is still on the market, and the damn landlords can take their sweet fucking time responding. We had an application in on one place for two and a half weeks before we got accepted for the one we’re going to move into. It’s also not advisable to put in more than one application at once, because if more than one landlord accepts your application at the same time, you’re on the hook for a weeks worth of rent no matter what.

SO. We have to move out by the 19th and it’s becoming increasingly obvious that we’re not going to find a place to move into in time. So what do two pretty broke millennials with a cat do? We try to find a place to crash for two weeks. I’ve got friends and family in the UK, it shouldn’t be too tricky, right? Except coronavirus is a thing. So not only am I trying desperately not to get on any kind of public transportation because tbh I should really be shielding and nowhere NEAR public transportation, but the more elderly of my relatives (coincidentally also the ones with the most space and ability to deal with two people and a cat for two weeks) aren’t really comfortable with us crashing there for completely understandable reasons. Because they’re 80. So now I’m freaking out but my amazing wonderful fabulous friend came through and said we could stay with her for the first week (not for the second because her partner’s kid sister and father had already made plans to come and stay and they are also obviously super COVID conscious as a teacher and a literal child. But it’s a week. Time to get our bearings and sort something else out right?

HAHAHAHA you must not have read a lot of the posts round here.

We spend the whole week trying to find somewhere to crash. Finally my cousin (who lives way the fuck out in Bristol but beggars can’t be choosers) very kindly says we can crash with him, but he’s uncomfortable with us bringing the cat because he has a new puppy and he’s worried the puppy will do damage to the cat. Fair enough. So we call every. single. one. of my remaining friends and family in the UK to see if someone can take the cat for a week. No dice. So we look into catteries. They’re pretty damn expensive and it’s at this point that my friend suggests we just try to get a hotel room in a place that allows cats and is super cheap. They have a point. So we abandon our super complicated attempts to get to Bristol (and believe me, I had a meltdown and a half about those because we had to ask so many people for so many favours and I was massively uncomfortable about this) and just get a hotel room at a really cheap hotel super close to where my angel friend lives.

Oh did I mention that by this point due to pharmacy fuckups I haven’t had my meds for like three weeks? Yeahhhh. Not good.

Now while we were packing to move out and sorting out the one suitcase to put stuff in for the two and a half weeks ahead of us, I completely forgot that other people do not have sensory issues. I’ve always had them to varying degrees of severity (the more anxious/uncomfortable/generally miserable I am, the worse they get. Oh look). So I forgot to pack most of my comfy pants (thank god I put my soft leggings in) and my fluffy socks that really help with the sensory issues. Normally I don’t need them so much because we have sheets that don’t trigger them very badly when they do at all. I managed mostly well at my friend’s house because while they weren’t ideal, they weren’t awful and I was in a super safe spot that I wasn’t worried about. But when we decided to book the hotel, I forgot one massive thing about cheap hotels: their sheets and almost every other surface are THE WORST on the planet for sensory issues, bar none. And the hotel in general just makes me want to slit my wrists. OH. And because we are broke millennials, we got the cheapest rate. Which means the hotel room we will be living in for the next ten days has no mini fridge, no decent workspace, nothing to eat on (the takeout places here do not provide cutlery apparently), and no way to prepare food if we don’t feel like spending waay too much money on takeout every night. My angel friend let us borrow her spare microwave from when they moved for the week (she is absolutely amazing and I have no idea how I’m ever going to repay her for this but I. Will. Try. Goddammit), but we’re still SOL for the rest of it. Which means my brain is pitching an absolute fit. Which means, among other things, my sensory issues are going crazy which is making the anxiety worse because I literally can’t put my feet on the bed, which makes the sensory issues worse which makes yada yada yada you get it. I’m probably going to have to sleep on the floor tonight and tomorrow we’ll have to go out in public (which is something I have not done since the beginning of lockdown because I’m terrified) to try to go to the shops and get some microwaveable meals that don’t involve being frozen and a decent set of pyjamas and socks that covers the majority of my exposed skin so I can sleep.

And this will be my life until the 4th. Because COVID so it’s not like I can really leave the hotel for anything other than super necessary shit.

Am not okay. Send help.

#fuck this shit #homeless #wtf is this #no meds #sensory issues #symptomatic #cw: self harm mention #covid #moving #stressed tf out

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inhalareexhalare · 5 years

Photo

With a spiritual kiss of "we'll meet again," I leave a sleeping Karu with a promise to bring home a pasalubong.

Pasalubong may be translated into souvenir but all the pure gentle love and homely coziness of the word is sacrificed, so here: pasalubong.

Today I traverse an unfamiliar path.

So much excitement!

I haven't felt like this in a long, long time. As expected, I overestimate time. I'll probably reach our meeting point very early haha

2018-11-24 09:06 Philippines Saturday

Someday, these new babies will grow a little more like this.

The Rotarian commandment slab. My mom and dad both contribute/d to this goodwill organization with blood, sweat, and tears.

Oh damn I didn't notice the smell until I looked closely. It's a dead dog's body. Looks like it was torn to pieces. Did somebody want something from its insides? The face is gone.

Cruel. I wonder what happened? And why?

Century City Mall. I reach my destination! More insight and discoveries await.

I like his brand by the way. It fits my practical needs and suits my masculine style.

All that's left is wait. Malls usually open at 1000 and this one does too apparently.

And then Isla texted me if we can meet at 1030 instead. (I thought I told her I'd be on free data haha I hope she checks her FB. Can't respond via SMS.) Sure can! This is exactly why I brought Hudson.

To Karu:

2018-11-24 09:39 Philippines Saturday

Isla's running late HAHAHA

It's unusual if on foot or within campus, but definitely usual on the road. Road plus car means heavy traffic. Hahahaha

The entrance lights are so cute, but I still think it's a waste of electricity and energy.

Five more chapters and I'm done with this book. I've decided to stop still for now though. Let the tales sink. Suck it in. Take in the environment around me.

Breathe.

Feel.

Focus.

2018-11-24 11:00 Philippines Saturday

I had the most interesting talk with Theodore today. HAHA

Ever since that day I impulsively expressed that I thought he was a chill person and I feel easily comfortable around him, he never gave up on trying to get along with me despite my seemingly cold and antisocial nature.

I'm very grateful for that. I haven't had a more one on one talk with him than this so it feels stupid yet heartwarming HAHAH

Karu's been having a lot of bloody nightmares lately. So this is what an experienced fighter can dream about. Vivid sensory pain and lucid fight sequences.

2018-11-24 11:26 Philippines Saturday

Isla and I will get noms first.

A fascinating concept. Well, the concept of a food court is old, but the way they pulled it off is new! I thought it was just one restaurant!

And wit, there is wit everywhere! The number one social language: humor.

sneakpeekLET ME IIIIN!!

okay back to food court

I am so proud of Isla. She's quitting work to pursue med schooolll CCOOOOOLLL

We talked about everything over lunch. Also the future potential Peak resident psychologist thing. She pointed out that ethically, it's not recommended for people with close association with each other to be psychologist and patient due to conflict of interest and high possibility of dependency.

I'm now wondering if it's actually God's gift that I am antisocial.

But I must be careful about this matter. I've been bothered about this topic for years. Because to my experience, most toxic feelings root from a sense of alone-ness and as cheesy as it sounds, sometimes all you need is a friend.

Then again, a psychologist is not a hired friend. I think the better thing to do is be kind and maybe also a friend, but must focus on helping the patient make other friends, generally.

Open and widen their horizons.

On to books. There’s time!

There’s a lot I wanna showww

also a dead fly I found n a back cover

iSN’T IT JUST AMAZING HOW THEY MANAGE TO APPRECIATE the ART OF TELLING A STORY SHORTLY ON ONE PAGE?

2018-11-24 12:00 Philippines Saturday

A LOT HAPPENED

I deviated hahahaha I didn't paint Karu as the horizon.

I painted the horizon as something in his perspective. So you could say he IS the perspective.

Early in our relationship, I used to share my anxiety to him and told him I'd be so happy to die holding hands with him.

And breaking up once in our relationship (it was a wise decision too—due to his need to clarify his own feelings on his own first), I told him how I'm happy to see the horizon beside him, "holding hands or not."

The horizon being the vision, the future, the hopes and the dreams that we move towards.

2018-11-24 16:19 Philippines Saturday

Pasalubong! A grasshopper, because he used to be nicknamed "Tipaklong" back in the varsity team (arnis, basically a wooden extension of the arm. Simply, stick arts.) Or was it back in taekwondo days?

Tipaklong is grasshopper, as you may have already guessed, and he was called that because he's swift and light on his feet. More of a kicker.

We had bloody fun today.

So much love.

My appreciation for Isla is immeasurable.

2018-11-24 18:00 Philippines Saturday

Watching Karu sleep soundly while I prepare dinner for us feels so comfy.

This is my treasure.

It's warm in the heart. I'm happy when I see him rest because he usually barely does. And it's self-destructive.

As the second eldest in our siblings, I always had a sense of fulfillment and ease when my siblings (even the eldest brother) were at ease.

I remember fanning my little sister Nynaeve to sleep when there was a blackout. Also patting her thigh lightly in a slow rhythm to help her get to sleep.

I'd tell Justice (the youngest brother) stories and trivias that kept him interested, curious, and full of wonder with life until he got to sleep.

I'd ask so many questions to Kevin, whether he knew the answer or not and watch him be passionate about some things, especially mechanical apparatus or toys.

Sigh.

Life is hard. But God is good.

2018-11-24 20:00 Philippines Saturday

An unexpected guest of Karu's is here. I quietly stepped out of the house to hang around at my secret spot again.

I don't feel hatred. Or sadness.

I'm just in my quiet space at the moment. Although I am taken aback by the (I'm sorry to say) unpleasant surprise. (I though we discussed that any guest must be given the headsup first whether it's a good time to visit here or not. Apparently it only applies to Karu, oh well x_x)

(Yknow, actually, Karu probably only forgot because he's busy tending to himself. I understand because he's currently depressed.) I'm still staying out here though. I don't wanna have to deal with people right now.

I'm making distance to give it more thought, and see a better perspective.

Karu's depressed and prefers to keep away from me. Since Gallagher is more than welcome to be in his presence, maybe that will be best.

I have a tinge of envy but I think this could help Karu sleep better.

I'm way calmer with facing my heavier moods now. That's good.

Monsters, of course, never really disappear. We don't get to destroy them. Destruction only leads to more destruction.

We don't lose our monsters. We just learn to live with them better.

Must never forget to pray.

Walking is so liberating!

2018-11-24 23:05 Philippines Saturday

Karu asked to read my entries and of course I let him.

Karu tried to explain. He said that towards myself, like to Theodore and Job, he feels like a moving-forward person. So it becomes difficult at times that he's facing a problem that he doesn't feel ready to confront yet. This is the difference with other people, who don't know his stories yet, so he can freely talk about past stuff.

I cried a bit, and tried to hide it since he didn't have to know, but he found out the truth anyway, from realizing that, in this case, he cannot rest in a place like me then.

I've become a walking irony. I'm the one who always tells him to rest, but apparently he cannot because he feels too driven to take the move forward around me, leaving behind the important patient wait for the heart to catch up.

We cleared it all out in the later half of our conversation though.

Turns out Karu has a fear of being vulnerably at his worst around me. He feels that he will destroy me like he did to other people.

He feels like I don't deserve to witness his shitty parts.

But destruction is a two-way thing. There's stimulus, and then there's reaction. He can't take all the blame for "destruction." Breaking up for example is not a full reason to lead to a person's psyche to fall apart. That didn't happen to us. In fact, it only made our individual identities stronger and more solid.

God does not allow man to separate what he has put together. For a sacred union to fall apart, there is only one reason: a severe lack of faith.

I told him he's just gonna have to trust me.

I shared how it's also difficult for me to find the words or even just the voice when I'm being shitty. But we have to strive to tell our story anyway.

That's the thing about trust.

Trust doesn't have a certain guarantee. It's a leap of faith.

I told him that I married both his two sides, I married a beautiful bipolar musical man, and I want to get to know both of them, even the shitty parts, so I can understand and give love accordingly.

I am glad that he feels somewhat better, although he is still in his down. I like how he's started to open up a little and I feel like we're closer now than ever before.

I encouraged him that when I see his shitty sides, I don't really think how shitty it is. It actually reassures me and I think, "oh, he's just as human as I am."

We hug the ��night” with many lofs.

2018-11-25 03:00 Philippines Sunday

#paint #story #corpse #cry #books #food court #art #pasalubong #tipaklong #sleep #cook #quote #vulnerable #monsters #chrono4 #quiet #marriage

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