#Always open for conversation - too!

[viperwhispered]

Too Hard

Woop part 2 of the trip inside Jamil's head. Part 1 here.

The next time Jamil caught sight of you on campus, his first instinct was to turn around on his heel.

What a stupid thought to have because of you.

Besides, that would only make him more conspicuous, not less.

So, when your eyes met his, Jamil gave you a short nod in greeting. He would’ve left it at that and kept on his way, had you not walked up to him.

“Hi Jamil! How’s it going?” you said with that impossibly disarming smile of yours.

Why was it so difficult to look at you like he normally would? You had no right to make him feel so stiff, so unnatural.

On autopilot, Jamil exchanged a few pleasantries with you - those lessons from his parents had been instilled too deep in him for him to falter too badly in a simple exchange such as this. Still, Jamil quickly excused himself by telling you he still had to find Kalim before his next class.

Jamil didn’t miss the way your smile faltered. Had you hoped to get something out of him?

“Oh, okay. I’ll see you two later, then.”

Something about that irked him, though Jamil did not allow himself to dwell on it further.

His heart really had no business still racing as it did when he walked away, unaware of the frown on his face.

Just act normal. That’s all he needed to do.

After all, he had no time for dwelling in silly fancies.

If Jamil had been acutely aware of you before, it only seemed to worsen now that he was making a conscious effort to not act any differently with you. In fact, the harder he tried to keep you out, the more you invaded his thoughts, unsettling him.

The most innocuous words from you looped in his mind, and even the simplest actions caught his eye. For goodness's sake, he’d found himself staring at you while you were queueing up in the cafeteria the other day, not even doing anything other than standing around and looking bored!

For once, Jamil found himself grateful for all his duties. At least they provided him with something else to occupy himself with.

After all, if he was busy enough, it was difficult to think about those bright eyes of yours, your sweet laugh, or the way you bit your lip while thinking.

Still, sometimes it felt like no matter which way he turned, you were there, ready to throw him off-kilter. Not like it was his fault that often the most convenient route to class intersected with your daily routines. Or that your face seemed to jump out from any crowd, catching his attention.

Which certainly did not help his basketball performance. Jamil certainly did not recall you having such an interest in sports before, yet suddenly you were always there, distracting him. What had changed?

Could you possibly-

Jamil scoffed to himself, forcing his thoughts back on track for the nth time that day.

He picked up the tray of food and started taking it to Kalim. After dinner, he’d need to help Kalim with his homework, there were some housewarden tasks that would need dealing with, not to mention the preparations for the next-

Jamil froze in his tracks.

The voice he heard was quiet, but it was unmistakably you.

Really, it should not have come as such a surprise to him. You had become a rather frequent visitor to Scarabia, and Kalim often invited you to stay for meals. In fact, Jamil had started planning the dorm’s meal prep with your tastes and dietary restrictions in mind, just in case.

Jamil rounded the corner with strange exhilaration, his heart fluttering needlessly.

Yet, his mood evaporated when he saw you.

Why did you stop talking and look so guilty as soon as you caught sight of Jamil?

Jamil knew that look you gave to Kalim, had used it himself a thousand times. The one telling Kalim to keep quiet about something.

What could there possibly be that you would be comfortable sharing with Kalim, but not with him? That would give Kalim reason to sit so close to you, a comforting hand on your shoulder?

Jamil's mind raced with possibilities, yet could not settle for any single explanation.

He’d have to ask Kalim about it later.

Jamil gave you a short, polite greeting, his eyes lingering on you in an attempt to read what you were hiding.

“If I’d known you were coming over, I would’ve prepared something for you to eat as well,” Jamil said, already thinking about which parts of the dorm’s dinner to spruce up for you.

“Oh, no need, just figured I’d pop by. I’ll get out of your hair soon enough,” you said, something sheepish about your expression.

As expected, Kalim asked you to stay and dine with them, and with just a bit more persuasion you agreed - though not before telling Jamil that he should join you too and have himself a breather.

And since Kalim agreed with you, Jamil soon found himself sharing a meal with you and Kalim. Yet, even as he sat down with the food, his mind raced.

Had you been getting particularly close to Kalim lately? But surely Jamil would’ve noticed such a thing. Maybe someone from the dorm had been giving you trouble? But if that was the case, then surely you could let Jamil know about it, too. Unless for some reason you did not want to? But if it was something that concerned Kalim, then sooner or later it was bound to concern Jamil, too.

All the while, Kalim was talking to you about this and that, the latest topic being the animals kept on the Asim estate.

“I’ve got some pictures, let me show you!” Kalim said with an excited grin.

Only, a thorough patting of his pockets and a look around confirmed that Kalim’s phone was nowhere to be seen.

Jamil pinched the bridge of his nose. Where had Kalim left it this time?

Before Jamil even had the chance to say that he would handle it, Kalim sprinted off. Jamil hesitated for a moment, automatically halfway up from his seat, before he decided that leaving a guest unattended would be a worse offense than not helping out his master.

Jamil slumped back down with a sigh, mentally tracing the path Kalim took today, trying to recall the last time he saw Kalim handle his phone.

“Breathe. He’ll manage,” you said. There was the faintest of smiles on your lips, and Jamil could not decide if it was knowing or amused. Perhaps both.

Somehow, despite his frustration, Jamil’s own lips wanted to curl up too.

“Hmm. Maybe he will.”

Sure, Jamil could’ve called Kalim’s phone, to make it easier to find, but it was not that urgent, was it?

Jamil took another bite of his food, keeping an eye on you from the corner of his eye.

How was his mind so empty and so buzzing at the same time?

“You know-”

“So-”

You looked at each other, both just as surprised that the other had spoken up at the same time.

Even your surprised look was so-

“You first,” Jamil said. The way you bit your lip... Jamil had to raise a cup to his lips, slowly sipping his drink.

“Just… Feels like it’s been quite a while since I’ve seen you be still, you know. Or exchanged more than two words with you,” you said. You were attempting a light, joking tone, yet it was quite clear there was more to it.

“You say that like it would be unusual for me to be busy.”

He was not prepared for the way your soft sigh tugged at his heartstrings.

“No. It is not.”

You were both quiet after, poking at your meals. Normally, Jamil would’ve cherished such a moment of peace, yet this particular silence between you two was decidedly awkward.

Where was your usual chatter? Why weren’t you looking at him like you usually did?

“If you’re worried about me, don’t. I’m fine,” Jamil said, some softness creeping into his tone despite his best intentions.

“That's what Kalim said too,” you said. Yet the way you looked at Jamil made it clear you were still skeptical.

Wait.

Had you clammed up earlier because it had been Jamil you had been talking about with Kalim? That Kalim had comforted you about?

The thought twisted his stomach into knots.

Eta: you can find part 3 here, part 4 here, and finally part 5 here. Hasdhfsdf the way I fought with that last scene I swear. I don't even want to know how many versions I went through, trying to figure out how to say what I wanted without rubbing it into your face or making it too veiled. The joys of trying to convey things through a limited pov. Hopefully it came out reasonably balanced in the end. Rip to all those sentences that were lovely on their own but didn’t work for the whole. Hopefully I can rehome y’all one day. I do have thoughts for part 3 and part x (might be some chapters between those two as well, who knows at this point), so maybe we'll see those at some point, too. Tag list: @colliope @crystallizsch @diodellet @jamilsimpno69 @jamilvapologist @twstgo If you'd like to be tagged for future works, let me know! (Just be aware that sometimes I do also write nsfw, though you can certainly ask to be tagged only for particular kinds of works.)

[sm1l3b0t]

getting queerbaited by an action webnovel is so embarrassing. but goddamn this dog is just too fucking good at chess

[carlyraejepsans]

Out of curiosity what instantly ruins a soriel fic for you? I promise this isn't for my own fic 😁

Sans remembering resets. Not even a Soriel specific thing, I catch one whiff of it in any UT fic and it immediately kills any interest I might have had in it. Same with Sans being suicidal (he is not. lmfao)

But let's see, Soriel specific... hm. It's hard to explain what it is that they do wrong specifically. But there's a brand of h/c fics with sans being the comforted where you can tell the author has not taken into account everything that is also wrong with Toriel. She's just there to offer comfort, which I'd argue is something Sans would do more often with how evasive and private he is about his own issues (and how we have literal in canon examples of him comforting her instead, even before they officially met each other)

[emma-d-klutz]

People on here are always like, “I don’t know why modern adaptations always make Sherlock Holmes an asshole. He is extremely polite and nice to everyone.” 

Meanwhile you turn to the second page of any Sherlock Holmes short story, and he’s going on like, “Watson, thank you for making it! You know you’re the only one I can trust I appreciate you so much <3. We’re going to go assist our bestie, Lestrade, because he’s so dumb he not only wouldn’t figure out my insights on his own - he wouldn’t even understand them if I didn’t have you there to translate. Man, he’s so out of it, I bet he wouldn’t even have deduced which side of you was facing the light while shaving, which is so totally obvious, because you look like a depressed slob who doesn’t own a mirror on one side but not the other. He’d hang an innocent man. Go, team!”

Now if you want to argue that’s he not an asshole for that; he’s just a little too honest and his filter is a little wonky and it’s probably a touch of autism, that's fair. But this man is, like, northeast nice at best. He’s New Jersey nice. Helps you shovel your car out of the snow and lectures you while doing it nice. 

[lifenconcepts]

HEY, Angel !!

Would you care as to describe your experience? I think not enough hear on just how varied and interesting we are, and it would be great to scroll through reblogs of a single post and be able to find those with similar experiences/feelings.

feel free to write whatever but if you would like some prompts:

Have you noticed the world seem more beautiful/peaceful since you’ve found yourself?

How do you feel about gender? Or having a name? Or attraction as a whole? Is it tied to more mortal instincts, or do you still have some essence of it?

How do you feel like you physically look? Do you have any preferences in form? Would you change the way you are perceived if you could - and into what?

How does your day get affected due to your mystical self?

Do you incorporate this sense of self in your hobbies / behaviours?

What does being an Angel or being of divine/holy nature mean to you? Do you consider yourself born here, a newly created angel, or one which has been around for a long time? Do you have any thoughts as to why you were assigned human at birth?

How much sense of “human”ness do you feel, and do you see yourself as equal to humans, something more, or like a watcher of life around you?

Do you feel like you have some higher purpose and reasoning of being here? A meaning of life, if you will call it that.

Do you have any religious connotations tied to your identity?

How did you come to realise who you were, and what signs did you exhibit prior to knowing this?

Do you have any other ‘uncommon’ bits of self apart from being a being of light, in a way? (Therian, otherkin, interests in specific things, neurodivergencies?) YOU DONT HAVE TO ANSWER THIS IF YOU DONT WANT TO!!

What’s your favourite thing about the bodily experience of being on earth? Is there any sensation you really like? (Taste, smell, touch, feeling, etc)

Would you prefer to be in another dimension? Do your senses feel dulled?

What’s your stance on mortality and topics tied to that? Do you believe in reincarnation/past lives/fate/destiny/divine intervention/guardian angels/ghosts/heaven & hell/god/meaning of life?

Would you enjoy if others treated you as some highly being and brought you offerings/treated you like a god/submit to you/worked for you?

What’s your stance on the community?

How do you interpret existence - how does it all seem to feel and what do you take away from it, like.. what do you live for? Do you have a sense of some ideal where the more you experience the higher you will achieve? Do you crave something out of life?

Do you have a ‘gut instinct/feeling’ and has it ever been scarily accurate to the point there could be no other possible explanation other than something holy?

Do you believe you are blessed and/or protected by some invisible force?

Where do you believe angels also show themselves? Are they in those stray rays of light of headlights, do they exist in the bite marks of a wounded animal’s form, is it within the ripples of the water, in the breath of the tree that takes in the wine, in the chill upon a high mountain - or is divinity everywhere?

Do you fear people don’t understand you well enough? Don’t understand us? Have you ever felt like doing something about it?

do you feel bored from these questions already - did you enjoy it- would you like more? Did I give you satisfaction? I find joy through writing, it makes me personally feel incredibly divine, and there’s a calling to know more about other individuals in this mystical and extensive world.. we need to stick together - as a whole. Love eachother. Treat yourselves well, too. Do more of what makes you feel fulfilled and happy. There’s so much complexities to life, but we just gotta handle it all with our own minds - but treat your heart and soul with so much kindness and care.. please- take care of yourself. Find whatever works for you and live forever, my friend. My eternal, immortal friend..

[theokusgallery]

I hate that I have reoccurring themes in everything I make. YES this guy has a complex over the fact that everyone prefers his sibling AGAIN. YES he was ostracized by his peers since he was in primary school and never knew why until years later. URGH

[icewindandboringhorror]

I got these shoes from someone recently but thought they were way too plain looking, so I set out on a quest to customize them with some sharpies and charms and miscellaneous ribbon I had in my craft drawers. Mostly sky themed (clouds, rainbows, rain, stars, etc.) because that's my favorite aesthetic, but I had to include some cat imagery as well, of course lol.

[pardonmydelays]

god i love sundays

[zackcharine]

Also if anyone wants to talk about how Bee and your Bfs would interact let me know !!! i think that would be fun + i need to make him talk with other people more jdfhgdfhg

[charmac]

i don't think people hcing charlie as transfem are trying to dismiss the transmasc charlie hc! i think it's more of a projection thing for a lot of people, since i know at least a few of the main people who enjoy the headcanon are transfem themselves!! i don't think you have much to worry about in terms of people dismissing the tmasc or other genderqueer charlie hc anyways, since it's already much more popular! i think you're perhaps being a bit too critical.

I've literally never said anything like this at all, I think you've either misinterpreted something else I've said or have the wrong blog.

All of my Charlie gender-based posts or reblogs I've stated/tagged that I think any interpretation of Charlie's gender can make sense, be it transmasculine, transfeminine, nonbinary, agender, whatever you want.

I am one of the ~3 blogs that has access to The Bathroom Problem script and who posted and pointed out that you can make out/slightly hear the Joyce cuts in the episode itself. I would not have excitedly shared that for open-interpretation if I was "worried" people are "dismissing" transmasc Charlie headcanons. (Which, again, I've literally never said, but in any case, I believe it's valid for anyone to dismiss a headcanon they don't agree with, fandom is a sandbox.)

What I personally don't care for are genderbends and, almost by extension, analysis/meta on canon scenes that rename/re-gender the characters with no basis (or, one that comes off wrong). Both topics I've literally never publicly spoken out against here, nor have I said anything bad/negative to everyone who personally enjoys these things, so there is no way for me to possibly be "too critical" in that regard. I keep most of my opinions to myself and my close mutuals, almost exactly for what you're saying: I personally don't want to harsh or dismiss anyone's headcanons.

I have never said, and have never meant to imply, that anyone interpreting Charlie as transfem is attempting to dismiss anyone else's headcanon (which again would be a non issue to me anyway).

[acourtofquestions]

Kingdom of Ash Chapter 59

Chapter; Highlights

His ears still rang with the din of battle, his breath a rasping beat echoed by Aelin.

Atop the blood-slick battlements, their allies and companions around them, Rowan wordlessly passed Aelin the waterskin. She drank deeply, then handed it to Fenrys.

An unleashing and release. That's what the battle had been for his mate.

Hasar at last looked Aelin over. "I heard you put on a show today."

Rowan braced himself.

Aelin turned from the battlefield and inclined her head. "You look as if you did, too." Indeed, Hasar's ornate armor was splattered with black blood. She'd been in the thick of it, atop her Muniqi horse, and had ridden right up to the gates. But the princess made no further comment.

Irritation, deep and nearly hidden, flashed in Aelin's eyes. Yet she didn't speak again-didn't push the princess about their next steps. She just watched the battlefield once more, chewing on her lip.

She'd barely stopped during the battle, halting only when there had been no more Valg left to kill. And in the minutes since the walls had been cleared, she'd remained quiet— distant. As if she was still climbing out of that calm, calculating place she'd descended into while fighting. She hadn't bothered to remove any of her armor. The bronze battle-crown was caked with blood, her hair matted with it.

Chaol's father had taken one look at her armor, at Rowan's, and gone white with rage.

For now. They had bigger things to consider. Things that drove his mate to gnaw on her lip. When Prince Kashin's army might arrive, if they would indeed head northward to Terrasen. If today had been enough to win them over.

"Any nearby are to run here. Those farthest out will have to flee for the forest." Rowan met Aelin's stare. Her hands began shaking.

This cannot end here, she seemed to say.

Panic—panic indeed flared in her eyes. Rowan gripped her trembling hand and squeezed.

But there was no truth or lie that might soothe her. No truth or lie to save the army on the plain.

Something had gone wrong. Something was wrong.

The battlefield stretched into the distance, healers darting amongst the felled bodies with white banners high to indicate their locations. So many. So many dead and wounded. A sea of them.

Elide reached Chaol's side just as Nesryn Faliq leaped atop her beautiful ruk, launching into a dive for the army below. No-the other ruks.

Elide laid a hand on Lord Chaol's shoulder, drawing his attention from where he watched Nesryn fly off. Blood-splattered, but his bronze eyes were clear. And full of terror.

Any message that Yrene had given Elide faded from her memory. "What's wrong?"

It was Aelin who answered, her bloodied armor strange and ancient. A vision of old. "The dam is going to break," the queen said hoarsely. "And wipe away anyone on the plain."

Oh gods. Oh gods.

Elide glanced between them, and knew the answer to her next question: What can be done?

Nothing.

Ruks took to the skies, flapping toward them, soldiers in their talons and clinging to their backs.

"Has anyone warned the healers?" Elide pointed to the white banners waving so far out into the plain. "The Healer on High?" Hafiza was down there, Yrene had said.

Silence. Then Prince Sartaq swore in his own tongue, and sprinted for his golden ruk. He was spearing for the battlefield within seconds, his shouts ringing out. Kadara dipped every few moments, and when she rose again, another small figure was in her talons. Healers. Grabbing as many of them as he could.

Elide whirled to her companions as soldiers began running for the keep, trampling corpse and injured alike. Orders went out in the language of the southern continent, and more soldiers on the battlefield leaped into action.

"What elsewhat else can we do?" Elide demanded. Aelin and Rowan only stared toward the battlefield, watching with Fenrys and Gavriel as the ruks raced to save as many as they could. Behind them, Princess Hasar paced, and Chaol and his father murmured about where they might fit everyone in the keep. Those who survived.

Elide looked at them again. Looked at all of them.

And then asked quietly, "Where is Lorcan?" None of them turned. Elide asked, louder, "Where is Lorcan?" Gavriel's tawny eyes scanned hers, confusion dancing there. "He ... he went out onto the battlefield during the fighting. I saw him just before the khagan's troops reached him."

"Where is he?" Elide's voice broke. Fenrys faced her now. Then Rowan and Aelin. Elide begged, voice breaking, "Where is Lorcan?" From their stunned silence, she knew they hadn't so much as wondered.

Elide whirled to the battlefield. To that endless stretch of fallen bodies. Soldiers fleeing. Many of the wounded being abandoned where they lay. So many bodies. So, so many soldiers down there.

"Where." No one answered. Elide pointed toward the battlefield and snarled at Gavriel, "Where did you see him join with the khagan's forces?"

"Nearly on the other side of the field," Gavriel answered, voice strained, and pointed across the plain. "I—I didn't see him after that."

"Shit," Fenrys breathed.

Rowan said to him, "Use your magic. Jump to the field, find him, and bring him back."

Relief crumpled Elide's chest.

Until Fenrys said, "I can't."

"You didn't use it once during the battle," Rowan challenged. "You should be fully primed to do it."

Fenrys blanched beneath the blood on his face, and cast pleading eyes to Elide. "I can't."

Silence fell on the battlements.

Then Rowan growled, "You won't." He pointed with a bloody finger to the battlefield.

"You'd let him die, and for what? Aelin forgave him." His tattoo scrunched as he snarled again.

"Save him."

Fenrys swallowed. But Aelin said, "Leave it, Rowan." Rowan snarled at her too. She snarled right back. "Leave it."

Some unspoken conversation passed between them, and the hope flaring in Elide's chest went out as Rowan backed down. Gave Fenrys an apologetic nod. Fenrys, looking like he was going to be sick, just faced the battlefield again.

Elide backed away a step. Then another.

Lorcan couldn't be dead.

She would know if he were dead. She would know it, in her heart, her soul, if he were gone.

He was down there. He was down there, in that army, perhaps injured and bleeding out — No one stopped her as Elide raced inside the keep. Each step limped, pain cracking through her leg, but she didn't falter as she hit the interior stairwell and plunged into the chaos.

She had made him a promise.

She had sworn him an oath, all those months ago.

I will always find you.

Soldiers and healers fled up the stairs, shoving past Elide. The shouting was near-deafening, bouncing off the ancient stones. She battled her way down, sobbing through her teeth.

I will always find you.

Pushing, elbowing, bellowing at the frantic people who ran past her, Elide fought for each step downward. Toward the gates.

People screamed, a never-ending flood surging up the stairs. Still Elide pushed her way down, losing a step here, another there. They did not even look at her, even try to clear a way as they flowed upward. It was only when Elide lost another step that she roared into the stairwell, "Clear a path for the queen!"

No one listened, so she did it again. She filled her voice with command, with every ounce of power that she'd seen the Fae males use to intimidate their opponents. "Clear a path for the queen!"

This time, people pressed against the walls.

Elide took the small opening, and screamed her order again and again, ankle barking with every step down.

But she made it. Made it to the chaotic lower level, to the open gates teeming with soldiers. Beyond them, bodies stretched into the horizon. Warriors and healers and those bearing the wounded rushed toward any stairwell they could find.

Elide managed all of five limping steps toward the open gate before she knew it would be impossible. To cross the field, to find him on the endless plain, before that dam burst and he was swept away. Before he was gone forever.

He was not dead.

He was not dead.

I will always find you.

Elide scanned the gates, the skies for any sign of a ruk that might carry her. But they soared to the upper levels, crawling with soldiers and healers, some even depositing their charges onto the mountain face itself. And at ground level, none would hear her cries for help.

No soldiers would stop, either.

Elide scanned the other end of the gates' entryway.

Beheld the horses being led out from their stables by frantic handlers, the beasts bucking at the panic around them as they were hauled toward the teeming ramps.

A black mare reared, her cry a sharp warning before she slashed her hooves at the handler. Lord Chaol's horse. The handler shrieked and fell back, barely grasping the reins as the horse stomped, her ears flat to her head.

Elide did not think. Did not reconsider. She limped for the horses and the stables.

She said to the frantic handler, still backing away from the half-wild horse, "I'll get her." The man, white-faced, threw her the reins.

"Good luck." Then he, too, ran.

The mare Farasha-yanked so hard on the reins that Elide was nearly hurled across the stones. But she planted her feet, leg screaming, and said to the horse, "I have need of you, fierce-heart." She met Farasha's dark, raging eyes. "I have need of you." Her voice broke.

"Please."

And gods above, that horse stilled. Blinked.

Horses and handlers streamed past them, but Elide held firm. Waited until Farasha lowered her head, as if in permission.

The stirrups were low enough thanks to Lord Chaol's long legs that Elide could reach them. She still bit down on her shout as her weight settled on her bad ankle, as she pushed, and heaved herself into Farasha's fine saddle. A small mercy, that they had not even had time to unsaddle the horses after battle. A set of what seemed to be braces hung from its sides, surely to keep Lord Chaol stabilized, and Elide unhooked them. Any weight, anything to slow her, had to be discarded.

Elide gathered the reins. "To the battlefield, Farasha."

With a whinnying cry, Farasha plunged into the fray.

Soldiers leaped from their path, and Elide did not stop to apologize, did not stop for anyone, as she and the black mare charged toward the gates. Then through them.

And onto the plain.

[datastate]

i keep finding reminders of how i used to act/type a few years ago and i shrivel up. and die.

[odysseys-blood]

alright i usually dont give it out bc im v shy so i get jumpy w/ dms but if any mutuals want my discord tag during spells where im extremely unsociable n u might wanna talk a bit this is just a reminder u can always dm me for it

[uygfiug]

why is it so scary to text friends 😭😭

[quietlyblooms]

i’ll probably reblog a few caps at some point, but i got sucked into a manga tag earlier and i’m just ;;;; this gives me such chiyo energy bc i know there would be bad days for her, no matter how loving her partner might be. there will be days when she feels like she’s simultaneously too much and not enough — too much to handle and not enough to warrant the trouble. gaining self confidence and self esteem and undoing years of negative self image will take time.

but she’d try to hide these bad days, covering up vulnerability with humor, even if it falls flat, or badly dodging concern like in the manga panels. “ why do you ask? ” “ i don’t know. ” bc it doesn’t matter if she trusts this person, if they’ve proven they care enough to listen and try to understand — chiyo is still scared. as much as she wants to be understood and accepted, she’s scared. to be honest and vulnerable is new and frightening bc what if she’s ugly on the inside? what if all those thorns and weeds have ruined her? what if her partner doesn’t want to deal with all that?

it’s something i’d like to explore more. there’s the building of trust that’s important, but i want to see the maintenance of that trust, too. every time chiyo falters, how will the other person respond? how does that affect chiyo? i wanna write it real bad uvu

[icewindandboringhorror]

I occasionally wish to reach out to old friends/acquaintances I haven't spoken to since high school/some other even earlier time in my life, but I have SOOO little social energy even for required tasks (like making dr phone calls or etc), I never have any leftover for extra ones, and it would be very odd to message someone I haven't spoken to in like 5 years out of the blue but then take 4 entire months to respond back lol.. My natural curiosity with nostalgia/collecting details of the past/etc. (literally if I were born a little earlier I would definitely do scrapbooking or something lol) is very strong, but, alas, not strong enough to beat out the Social Issues Demons apparently