#HE IS NOT PERCEIVING THIS HE IS NOT PERCEIVING THIS H-

[darqx]

Another BP/HH/Gen answer dump as usual starting with BP and then moving into the other two \o/

All demons age about the same rate as humans (although with earlier milestones as babies) UNTIL they hit their 30s-40s after which aging slows down drastically 🙂‍↕️

Izm chasing you down to get .D back like

🤔 You guys sometimes really make me think about things I don't often have to think about LOL. I'm just gonna do the gang this time so off the top of my head:

Izm and .D are often eating sushi in my drawings and since I'm pretty sure Izm is mainly the one buying, sushi is his fave. He'll eat any type but he prefers the raw fish ones.

Whilst .D also likes sushi, it's not his fave dish. His fave dish is pasta in a red sauce (like Sugo or Arrabiata) for some reason. Nostalgia maybe?

Zeke is a meat and potatoes kind of guy, so, a nice juicy sirloin with mushroom sauce and a side of roast potatoes and veggies. (BP!Zeke is similar but he really likes pork/bacon particularly, so a pork roast for him probably).

Wei Ren's comfort foods are chicken congee, and seafood steamboat/hot pot.

Marcus' fave is his mom's chicken casserole.

Oh I'm glad (and thank you very much)! I hope you get lots of inspiration and can create a lot of things :D

Hm, that's a good question! I think, for doodling purposes, my fave is Rire mainly because Rire always looks more or less completed in black and white. My other two faves are .D and Izm - .D is a good exercise in subtle expressions whereas Izm is the complete opposite (esp with BP!Izm with that mouth).

Yes. I mean, I'd prefer you be at least 15 for those two things only cos if i had to age rate them they could be considered M or MA15+.

Hullo! The short answer is that there are also "not normal" skin tones, it depends on the demon species :)

The rest of society is pretty standard so yes there are charlatans in the world of BP lol. HOWEVER, no one would pretend to be a BP for three distinct reasons:

You need to be sanctioned to be a BP (ie they have abilities that normal people do not, like being able to perform exorcisms.)

There is no profit to be had as BPs generally don't get paid (all their living expenses are generally covered by their religion's HQ).

It's dangerous work. You'd have better luck being a bank robber.

Desmond is def a club music kind of guy XD EDMs, techno, trance, hardstyle, house, whatever - the kind of stuff you jump energetically up and down to at a club/concert/rave, he'll listen to it.

Not yet for BP (soon...🙏🏻). HH wasn't really a comic series so much as a bunch of somewhat random one shots I did for fun lol.

^ you guys :d

I don't put my pronouns anywhere partly because it is lowkey amusing for me to see how people perceive me online. It doesn't really matter to me, so go with your best guess lol.

You would be surprised at how much time those two hobbies can take up outside of work |D; I also like doing puzzle games (like Quordle etc), coding, going for walks/bike riding, making slightly odd food combos in normal recipes and freaking out my friends on Discord with them, and watching horror/disaster films and playthroughs of horror games.

Maybe one day I would, but not at this particular time, sorry!

Thanks for asking as this is a bit of a grey type area! Personally, I think that as long as this is purely for your own use and you aren't going to on-sell it in any way...then it should be ok. I'm going to categorise something like this as somewhat similar to say...people printing out my art to stick to their wall type thing. Of course, if you ended up buying a bunch and then thought oh i have so many extra I'll sell them to whoever wants them - that would be a no no.

In what capacity lol if there's something I've learned from real life it's never agree or disagree to anything without knowing specifics. Eg if you would like to use my art as a PFP on tumblr then you can if you credit it, but if you want to use my art as a face claim for your own charac then i would have to say no, etc.

That makes two of us as i am not familiar with the twisted wonderland universe :P

.D: Diasomnia

Izm: Pomefiore

Wei Ren: Ignihyde

Zeke: Savanaclaw

Marcus: Diasomnia

I never really specified one so my friends and I have been calling it the fictional city of Hedone lol.

I haven't given up on HH, i just dont draw it nearly as much since i'm focussing on developing BP :) Anyway HH wasn't seriously planned to be a comic or anything (though technically...it does have a very loose storyline that I've alluded to in some drawings |D ) so it's something I can just jump back into and doodle whenever i feel like.

This was from a while back

It's pretty straightforward HH is a slice of life 'verse where my main characs are in an all boy's boarding school and Rire is the headmaster. It focuses on the boys shenanigans though so if you specifically like Rire you will be disappointed as he's barely in it.

I cut off this post cos I dont think the stuff in it should be shared with other random people even though anon is on anon. If this is you anon i hope you are doing well and i would genuinely encourage you to talk to someone about certain things (like a therapist maybe).

[cervvsq]

bandages.

inspired by ‘fate is cruel’ by @slaymitchabernathy !

summary: issues between you and coriolanus cause a failed suicide attempt to occur.

WARNINGS: suicidal thoughts, major mental heath issues, sharp objects, self harm, silent treatment, manipulation, abuse, speaks about sex but no actual smut, reader is described as his “dumb, little wife”, reader always forgives him, lots of angst today :(

no use of y/n // no name for reader.

masterlist

“…yes, and, no sharp objects around her for a good while…”

“…when the time is right, she may be able to leave the mansion. until then…”

“…take me for a fool, festus? of course i’ve made sure no one finds out about this. it’s already been a great embarrassment between me and those who know.”

the hushed voices of your husband and his colleagues through his large oak door made your heart sink. whether it was out of shame, pain, or anger was beyond you.

pulling the sleeves of your silky nightgown over your wrists, you took one last deep breath and knocked once on the door. like always, it was small. gentle. that’s who you were perceived as anyway. surprisingly, it was hard to be confident and loud when you were married to the most powerful man in panem — especially around his associates. being anything other than the perfect capitol lady was a disgrace to society.

whatever conversation they were having shut down immediately, a few throats clearing as coriolanus’ deep voice gave you permission to walk in. you ignored the uneasy thrill of your heart racing when all eyes of older men were on you, in a small yet beautiful nightgown, usually only for your husbands eyes in your home house. it was strange for him to have this many people here at this time, even in the president’s office.

but many things were strange lately. ever since—

“darling?” that familiar voice ripped you out of your thoughts, and you nearly sunk into the floor when the look on the men’s faces had suddenly switched to pity. blinking a few times, you perked your head up to listen.

“i asked if you were alright.” he smiled gently.

“of course. my apologies for the interruption — i hadn’t realised you were busy.” you lifted a delicate hand to brush your luscious hair from your freshly-washed face. this small act caused your loose sleeve to slip from your wrist, causing everyone’s eyes to rip away from you faster than they looked.

apart from your husband’s.

his chiseled jaw clenched for a moment, staring intensely. realising your mistake, you immediately dropped your hand, eyes locking on the floor. suddenly, it felt like you were 5 years old getting scolded in front of your father’s friends.

feeling your whole body suddenly become boiling hot from embarrassment, you refrained the urge to run out the room.

“it’s no bother. what do you need?” you couldn’t even answer before the sound of your husband’s chair scraping across the floor rang in your ears, telling you everything you needed to know. his hand was on your cheek, coaxing you to look up at him. once you complied, he leaned forward, lips by your ear. you avoided looking at all these unknown faces whilst coriolanus murmured words out of earshot to anyone but you.

“give me twenty minutes for me to sort some things, and i’m all yours, i promise. you need rest, i’ll get someone to escort you back to our room.” his words were meant to be reassuring, but they only made you feel sick. you didn’t need someone to escort you to another room in your own fucking house.

biting back the tempting dare to shout, ‘i’m not a fucking child!’ in his face, you simply gave him a smile that didn’t reach your eyes, letting him kiss you on the cheek. he guided you back to the grand oak doors of his office, hand on your lower back for only a few moments before he shut the door as soon as you stepped out.

ᥫ᭡

silent tears felt like knifes as they slid down your angelic face.

with shaky hands, you pulled your sleeve down.

it took all your strength not to scream and bawl at the sight you had to face every night and morning now.

the bandages.

layers of thin, white, woven cotton wrapped around your dainty wrists, a harsh contrast to your smooth skin. the reminder of what you had done haunted you every second of every day.

but it wasn’t the concealment of your wrist that tormented you. it was what held beneath it that really made you crawl. not just the slash — but the memory of that night.

ᥫ᭡

3 weeks earlier…

“…just once, just once, maybe i thought you could be an adult. to be a proper wife, but you can’t even do that. no, really, what can you fucking do, hm?”

your eyes had gotten used to the familiar burn of your tears. the embarrassment grew every time. he always knew what to say to bring you to this state. sat at the end of your large shared bed, sobs strained your raspy throat, you squeezed your eyes shut to block out his harsh words.

it clearly was the end of the world to him, what you had done. you had “ruined your body,” he had spat earlier.

you couldn’t bear to look down at the 4 pink scars on each of your upper thighs. you were an idiot for thinking he wouldn’t notice. why wouldn’t he? after the arguments, after the name-calling, after the gaslighting, it was always the same. he fucked you all night, whispered pleasure-filled ‘apologies’ and left you to wake up to an empty bed and not see any sign of him until 7pm when he would return from work.

“your words really hurt me sometimes, coriolanus…” you choked out. he was so angry, veins bulging from his neck, hair a large contrast to how neat it usually is. he let out a bitter laugh. “my words?”

“do you know how silly your little act is?” he reached forward and grabbed a handful of your hair, forcing you to look up at him. the tight grip he had on you didn’t match his sudden calm tone.

“this is what mentally unstable people do, darling. are you unstable? did i marry a crazy person?” he taunted, tilting his head patronisingly. it surely coaxed the reaction he wanted.

a few more tears fell down your flushed face, and you tried shaking your head. “no, no, i’m not crazy, coryo… i’m sorry, i won’t do it again!”

“oh, baby, don’t cry. i know you won’t. i’ll make sure of that.” his hand loosened in your hair, stroking it softly. his words settled you down a little more, oblivious of what was to come.

you lowered your head, leaning forward to press your forehead against his abdomen as he stood above you. still comprehending the whole situation, hectic hitches of your breath escaped your lips and shook your shoulders.

“you know i love you, my sweet girl. it pains me greatly that you’re this stupid sometimes.” his stinging words sounded gentle, so you didn’t pay any mind. you were just coriolanus’ dumb, little wife anyway.

when you didn’t respond, he pulled your hair again, eliciting a strangled mewl. “i know, i love you too..!” you cried out. he nodded, moving his hand down to your cheek.

“are you going to disappoint me again?” he took your chin firmly and shook your head left and right. satisfied, almost amused, a smirk curled on those lips. the same lips of his that can spew the most vile words, and all the more loving ones.

ᥫ᭡

the next morning

waking up, you felt light as a feather whilst the morning light poured through the tall curtains. like usual, coriolanus was probably already at work.

after a night of sex, promises, and praises, it seemed your husband had gotten over your self-harm silly mistake! oh, how clueless you were.

when you walked into your large closet, it felt like you had been shot.

it was all gone.

all your glamorous dresses, expensive shoes, beautiful jewellery.

empty. your side of the space you cherished the most in your house was completely desolate.

breaking down in tears, you ran into the bathroom to your vanity.

also barren.

the only thing displayed on your once packed beauty area was some moisturiser and a toothbrush.

after 10 minutes of crying your heart out on the bathroom floor, you got up and opened your bedroom door, determined to belt coryo’s workplace out until his secretary answered and put you on the phone to him.

two peacekeepers stepped in front of you. before you could open your mouth, one of them recited their orders.

“apologies, mrs snow. you may not leave this area. orders of president snow.”

you could punch one of these men right now.

raising your eyebrows, you gaped at his words. “excuse me? this is my own house!”

they shook their heads. “apologies, ma’am. orders of president snow.”

feeling your eyes begin to sting, you turned around, closing the door and collapsing onto the bed, curling up into a fetal position whilst you cried.

you were stuck here.

when the clock hit 8, you were still in the same position you were in when you laid down. never did any staff bring food, or drinks — so you kept yourself occupied with 2 things. cry. sleep. cry. sleep. not moving once.

not even when your husband’s voice was heard muffled outside the door, probably talking to the peacekeepers. or you. you didn’t care anymore.

the door opened. only a sigh was heard, followed by footsteps.

“sweetheart?” the name only caused your heart to clench. more so when a hand landed on your shoulder. you didn’t move. “what’s wrong?”

this caused your jaw to tighten and your eyes narrow. spinning around, tears already streamed down your cheeks.

“what’s wrong is you locked me in here! all day!” you shouted in his face. “and all of my belongings are gone! you took them from me! you’re fucking evil—!”

his caring act snapped, grabbing you by the neck and forcing you down onto the bed. the livid, animalistic look in his eye was something you’ll never forget. he breathed deeply, heavily, closing his eyes as if to calm himself down. lucky for him — barely any air could leave your lungs right now. but he made sure you heard him clearer than you could breathe.

“and clearly, you haven’t learned your lesson. just when i thought you couldn’t get more dense. get up.” he spat the last two words, releasing his large hand around your neck.

spluttering, you gasped a few times, standing up and wincing when he grabbed your wrist tightly. leading you down the hallway, he spoke as you tried to catch up.

“you told me last night it was my words that caused you to hurt yourself.” he scoffed, continuing to drag you along.

he stopped you both in front of a room you hadn’t even been in before, despite living here nearly a year now. “and the clothes, well, i can’t have anyone knowing about your little vice.” he chuckled, as if this was funny at all. “you will get your clothes handed to you when needed.”

you wearily eyed the door in front of you. “what are you doing?”

he sighed. “since my words affect you so much,” he mocked, “i figure it must come to me not speaking to you whatsoever. maybe that will put an end to these games you insist on playing.” he opened the door.

“enjoy your new room.”

ᥫ᭡

2 weeks later

“please, please, coriolanus! i’m sorry! please just talk to me!” you bawled, on your knees in front of him whilst he sat at his desk, skimming over some documents.

he paid you no mind.

no attention, not even a glance.

it didn’t matter how much you screamed, called him names, insulted him, whatever. he didn’t acknowledge you.

you were given dresses by maids whenever there was a dinner or gala you both needed to attend. even then he didn’t speak directly to you, only referring you in conversation with others when necessary.

sometimes you threw up from how much you weeped.

coriolanus was all you knew. despite his behaviour towards you at times, his affection and care fuelled you endlessly. no matter how many times he laid his hands on you, his praises, his touch, was like a million apologies. he broke you repeatedly, then healed you once more. you’d rather have him beat you up and take care of your bruises than this.

for 2 weeks now, he hadn’t laid eyes on you, never mind touched. if he wanted a message across about plans for the week, he got his staff to do it.

there were no more dinners, no more kisses, no more scolding, nothing.

you weren’t permitted out of your room once it hit 7pm. that was the rule all the way to 7am. it ensured you didn’t try to leave, is what the peacekeepers said. you had a feeling it was so you didn’t bother their dear president. the man who was meant to be your devoting husband.

your bathroom was empty apart from a toilet, mirror, toothpaste, and a brush. sure, the intricate design was luxurious, but every room in the presidential mansion had to be spot on. even if you were basically being kept prisoner in it.

the only clothes in your closet were pyjamas and slippers. any fancy clothing were brought to you when needed. you found yourself wondering if coriolanus picked out the dresses.

you were invisible.

so now, as you begged for the 3rd time today for him to give any sign he gave a shit about you, you felt yourself reaching your breaking point. it was his and the staff’s day off, you weren’t missing this opportunity to try fix things. it was going nowhere.

you didn’t even exist in your own house anymore.

standing up, you walked out, leaving his study door open. the tears once pouring down your rosy cheeks had stopped. you almost felt dizzy.

walking into the room which you and coryo once shared, you walked into your his bathroom. top left drawer. that’s where he always went to shave.

when you used to get ready for bed together.

when he would tease you about how seriously you took your skincare routine.

when he would come up behind you and place kisses on your neck.

when you would stand on your tip-toes to shave his face for him.

that felt like years ago.

and suddenly, before you could stop yourself, you were reaching for the spare blades in the packet, taking one out.

you were like a ghost to him now anyway. he was a ghost to you now, too. a ghost of who he was. who was he now? and where did he go?

too much. it was all too much.

with one smooth slash, the blade ran across your vein. just above your pulse. then the other. slash. it was only when the clatter of the blade dropped onto the marble floor, followed by droplets of pure red when the gravity of the situation settled.

what the fuck?

what did i do?

“what did you do?!” coriolanus yelled. his voice never sounded so urgent. turning your head, the last thing you felt was his hand slipping under you, lifting you up before you fainted.

ᥫ᭡

present time.

ever since then, it was like nothing happened. things went back to normal. well, not completely, of course.

it had been exactly a week and a half since the incident, and coryo had put many things in place to ensure your health and safety was protected.

his razors were now locked up.

all jewellery only he got for you, to make sure there were no sharp edges.

no access to the kitchen without any company.

your bandages were changed every other day.

you had to see a doctor every day to check and treat the deep wound.

but no amount of antibiotics and bandages could soothe the mental wounds.

only coriolanus could.

but all of these restricts set in place didn’t bother you. why? because you had gotten him back.

you had moved back into your shared bedroom.

most of your dresses were back.

he spoke to you gently.

he caressed you, he kissed you, he treated you like a porcelain doll.

there was no apology for practically locking you up. you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

after all, you got your coryo back.

even if all these precautions and pitying eyes from the very few people who know do tick you off at times, you would choose this life any day over the one you had when he was so vile to you.

finished crying, you stared at yourself in your vanity mirror. he kept his promise. the door opened, and his lips tugged into a smile when he saw you. walking over, he leaned down and kissed your cheek. “i’m sorry for their prying eyes. how are you feeling?”

you shook your head, dismissing his apology. you hated any references to your attempt. “i’m okay.” you smiled.

coriolanus intertwined his hand with yours, pulling you up from your vanity stool. “my sweet girl.” he murmured, leading you over to the bed.

you laid down, and he hovered above you, his arms wrapping around your small frame. “never do something like that again, please.” he spoke into your hair.

you held your breath.

“i won’t.” you whispered. so delicate, so pure.

shame it was a lie.

as much as you didn’t like lying to him, you couldn’t help it. telling the truth would only make things complicated.

but it was true. you’d do it again and again if it meant you could have this coryo forever. and you’ll be sure to prove it if he ever dared to change again.

ᥫ᭡

oneshot!

[phantomrose96]

Re: "Before the birds sing"- Something that gets me is that he can talk about the cycle being neutral and some people having good days and some people having bad days, but Madeline is inevitably going to receive devastating news, and he's repeatedly putting her through that so he can fine-tune his own experience. Same with Frankie and getting chewed out by their boss. Even if they don't remember it, it still seems really selfish.

(Before the Birds Sing)

Y e a h :))))

By and large, Christophe is surrounded by people having a really bad day. And he was absolutely one of them on the first run of the day.

But in Christophe's perfect run of the day, he gets to be exactly who he wants to be--the person who has the right thing to say to someone having a bad day. And this cannot really be about making them feel better--if it was, Christophe would rationalize moving on from today. Instead it comes back to the one thing Christophe prioritizes above all else in the loops: how other people perceive him.

He's fine with letting everyone live their horrible day over and over as long as he gets to be their hero over and over 🤗🤗🤗

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

“I’m going to get a little wonky and write about Donald Trump and negotiations. For those who don't know, I'm an adjunct professor at Indiana University - Robert H. McKinney School of Law and I teach negotiations. Okay, here goes.

Trump, as most of us know, is the credited author of "The Art of the Deal," a book that was actually ghost written by a man named Tony Schwartz, who was given access to Trump and wrote based upon his observations. If you've read The Art of the Deal, or if you've followed Trump lately, you'll know, even if you didn't know the label, that he sees all dealmaking as what we call "distributive bargaining."

Distributive bargaining always has a winner and a loser. It happens when there is a fixed quantity of something and two sides are fighting over how it gets distributed. Think of it as a pie and you're fighting over who gets how many pieces. In Trump's world, the bargaining was for a building, or for construction work, or subcontractors. He perceives a successful bargain as one in which there is a winner and a loser, so if he pays less than the seller wants, he wins. The more he saves the more he wins.

The other type of bargaining is called integrative bargaining. In integrative bargaining the two sides don't have a complete conflict of interest, and it is possible to reach mutually beneficial agreements. Think of it, not a single pie to be divided by two hungry people, but as a baker and a caterer negotiating over how many pies will be baked at what prices, and the nature of their ongoing relationship after this one gig is over.

The problem with Trump is that he sees only distributive bargaining in an international world that requires integrative bargaining. He can raise tariffs, but so can other countries. He can't demand they not respond. There is no defined end to the negotiation and there is no simple winner and loser. There are always more pies to be baked. Further, negotiations aren't binary. China's choices aren't (a) buy soybeans from US farmers, or (b) don't buy soybeans. They can also (c) buy soybeans from Russia, or Argentina, or Brazil, or Canada, etc. That completely strips the distributive bargainer of his power to win or lose, to control the negotiation.

One of the risks of distributive bargaining is bad will. In a one-time distributive bargain, e.g. negotiating with the cabinet maker in your casino about whether you're going to pay his whole bill or demand a discount, you don't have to worry about your ongoing credibility or the next deal. If you do that to the cabinet maker, you can bet he won't agree to do the cabinets in your next casino, and you're going to have to find another cabinet maker.

There isn't another Canada.

So when you approach international negotiation, in a world as complex as ours, with integrated economies and multiple buyers and sellers, you simply must approach them through integrative bargaining. If you attempt distributive bargaining, success is impossible. And we see that already.

Trump has raised tariffs on China. China responded, in addition to raising tariffs on US goods, by dropping all its soybean orders from the US and buying them from Russia. The effect is not only to cause tremendous harm to US farmers, but also to increase Russian revenue, making Russia less susceptible to sanctions and boycotts, increasing its economic and political power in the world, and reducing ours. Trump saw steel and aluminum and thought it would be an easy win, BECAUSE HE SAW ONLY STEEL AND ALUMINUM - HE SEES EVERY NEGOTIATION AS DISTRIBUTIVE. China saw it as integrative, and integrated Russia and its soybean purchase orders into a far more complex negotiation ecosystem.

Trump has the same weakness politically. For every winner there must be a loser. And that's just not how politics works, not over the long run.

For people who study negotiations, this is incredibly basic stuff, negotiations 101, definitions you learn before you even start talking about styles and tactics. And here's another huge problem for us.

Trump is utterly convinced that his experience in a closely held real estate company has prepared him to run a nation, and therefore he rejects the advice of people who spent entire careers studying the nuances of international negotiations and diplomacy. But the leaders on the other side of the table have not eschewed expertise, they have embraced it. And that means they look at Trump and, given his very limited tool chest and his blindly distributive understanding of negotiation, they know exactly what he is going to do and exactly how to respond to it.

From a professional negotiation point of view, Trump isn't even bringing checkers to a chess match. He's bringing a quarter that he insists of flipping for heads or tails, while everybody else is studying the chess board to decide whether its better to open with Najdorf or Grünfeld.”

— David Honig

[sevendutchies]

People in this fandom will really look at The Fool, Patience, Lacey, Carson, Sedric, Hest, Davvie, Lecter, Kennit, Ash/Spark, and yes, even Fitz himself, and still have the gall to call it queer bait.

These characters are explicitly queer, their actions impact the narrative, they are well written, and their identities are treated with respect. That is the best possible queer representation you could ask for in any story.

I've seen people on tumblr basing the likelihood of if they read this series on whether or not it's "actually gay" and I'm here to tell you that it is. There are queer characters. There are queer protagonists. And no matter what you see people in the fandom say, Robin Hobb wrote some amazing queer representation in a genre that rarely sees it at all.

TLDR;

Queer bait = disrespectful marketing ploy that exploits queer audiences

Queer bait ≠ "my two favorite characters never have sex"

[dizzybizz]

being dragged back into my sdv hyperfixation kicking and screaming and it's expanded now. this is august, he doesn't really know what he's doing or what's happening but he's rolling with it.

morris' sad sprite when he saw me going through a trash can caught me so off guard. why is he sad about it.

no stop don't go through that trash can what are you doing that's gross stop it 😢💔

[ohohoho-nyohohoho]

not sorry to be a bitch on main but the argument that pisses me off the most is "jc/jgy/nhs/wwx/op's other favorite male blorbo is so womancoded, experiences so much misogyny, etc etc"

kings there are actual female characters in the story. surprise surprise i know but its true. and kings i prommy you that the way mxtx + the fandom treats these female characters is 500x worse than the way the fandom treats any of your uwu poor little meowmeow male faves

if i have to see one more person taking a post about female characters getting mistreated and photoshopping it to be about fucking. wwx or whatever. jesus h christ man read the fucking room

[remyfire]

The way even Charles was ready to choke on it

[widowshill]

random r/v moments: 132.

[autisticandroids]

if straight people are pretending to be queer for clout that's actually a sign that things are getting better. like it's a sign that things are improving for queer people

[tomatoluvr69]

I think you’re very wise so I’ll ask you: how does one make friends in their 20s. Like I have a friend group and stuff but I’d like to branch out more. Maybe fuck around find love. Who knows. But how …….

I’m pretty floored by this compliment not gonna lie…and I should be clear that I’ve also struggled with finding friends out of college. I wound up moving back to my college town where I had some connections already, but I can tell you what I did to branch out from those people and make new ones? This is just what’s worked for me, and it’s been slow going, but here goes :-) putting it under a readmore because it got really long and rambly hehe

I had a pretty rough summer when, after 5-6 months of my living here, two of my closest friends (literally 2/3 of the people I decided to move here to be near!) moved to other cities in rapid succession & i had a tough adjustment. What I did to heal was to take some time where I was very intentionally kind of scaling back my social life because I recognized that the irrational hurt that resulted from those departures made it so that I wasn’t in a healthy headspace (thinking a lot of thoughts like companionship is pointless, friendships are born to die, my life will be a long and pointless cycle of making friends -> they abandon me for a partner -> make new friends -> they abandon me for a partner). I had the wherewithal to recognize those thoughts as reactionary, and pretty far removed from the truth, but I was still having them all the time. But I gave myself a purposeful fallow period and I think it REALLY helped. I know that’s not your situation but it’s helpful to explain my experience. (And also just to say, see if you can recognize thought patterns and doubts you have around new friendships as fallacious or insecure if you think they are! Challenge them in your head, and correct them.)

Then, in the fall, I found myself opening up again. Because of my little break (I spent a LOT of time with my very close friend, which maybe wasn’t the most ideal for either of us— but we weathered it) I had the clarity to observe what worked for me and what didn’t, and set challenges for myself. I’m a pretty shy person, and the really fucking annoying truth I’ve come to realize over and over again is that in order to have a rich and thriving social life, I must grit my teeth and fight against those impulses nigh constantly. It is not my nature to cold text an acquaintance who’s on the brink of being a friend to make plans for the first time. That shit is scary to me!!! But I have been fucking forcing myself to make that kind of leap. Basically, the rules I have been trying (and oftentimes failing!) to hold myself to:

1. Almost every other young adult around you is also quietly lonely and hoping for more social connections, especially at that post-college stage. People are thrilled to be reached out to. Remember this first and foremost!! Reassure yourself that no one thinks you’re a freak for being friendly.

2. Text first sometimes (often). You HAVE to do this— if everyone sat around and waited to be enveloped into friendships, no one would have any friends at all. Think about how touched you are when someone makes the first move to you— asks for your number, uses it, suggests a hangout. It’s scary and it sucks but then it’s sooo worth it.

3. This one’s controversial…but I have a policy of “yes”. I do not say no to an invitation. And I do not allow myself to cancel unless I’m ACTUALLY ill. No “self care” excuse. No “I’m tired/depressed/long day at work” excuse. The ONLY exception is if I have a rigid commitment already (or if I’m vomiting or have covid which is…infrequent lol). I always go to the scary party, the nerve-wracking dinner at a friend of a friend’s. Sometimes I have a hunch I’ll hate it, and I do. But most of the time I have that hunch I’m proven wrong and very pleasantly surprised at how nice of a time I’ve had. This is how I’ve deepened acquaintance relationships into friendships, because it allowed me to see people a whole bunch of times and get accustomed to them and talk to them little by little and be less scared of them. but it was harrrrrrd, and it took a long time. I’m only now feeling like I’m actually friends with people I met like… 6-10 months ago.

Those are my rules, but basically it boils down to forcing myself out there way more than I’m comfortable with. And honestly, it’s already changing my personality and becoming more easy.

Also re: seeing people again a whole bunch of times. Become a regular somewhere!!! Join a club, my friend is in a writer’s group that has formed some very solid connections, I have friends who meet up all the time in an earth skills sharing capacity. I have a friend in some sort of trans baseball league or something? I’ve seen posts online for like idk a queer craft meetup, a diverse authors book club, affinity hiking groups, etc. A lot of my friends (and sometimes I!) go to a weekly themed night at a dive bar & over time have gotten to know a lot of the other regulars. Is there a bar near you that has a recurrent event that intrigues you? Goth night, dyke night, karaoke? it won’t happen overnight, you gotta go again and again and and again. But find social hobbies, and by seeing people again in the same place, you will first recognize them, then become friendly, then perhaps even become friends.

Now some disclaimers: I’m very lucky to be well positioned as the best friend and roommate of an incredibly outgoing person, who is the type to become a nucleus of any social scene he enters into. People love him, and want him around, and he loves me and wants me around! This makes things much easier for me, and without that connection, I’d be much more isolated! So I guess some advice there is to be on the lookout for the type of person who effortlessly gathers people. Sometimes I think (unfortunately lol) of the biblical phrase “fisher of men”. But it’s quite apt. If you find yourself being fished, go along with it!! Even if you don’t click completely with that gregarious person, the likelihood that you’ll be thrown into orbit with others is high, and you may find people through that. Let them invite you places! Meet their friends!! Friends who have served this role in my life have been absolutely indispensable for me & I try to actively emulate their modi operandi as much as possible

If you have a pretty closed off friend group, you could work on changing that? Another concrete piece of advice (and one that’s brand new to me lol) is to become a host! Have a brunch potluck or throw a birthday at your place. Invite your friends and have them bring along someone you might not know! Invite people you’re friendly acquaintances with. One of the nicest ways to build community is through like casual, open, and recurrent gatherings. Highly, highly recommend low stakes evenings like potlucks & yard fires & movie nights but especially potlucks. Sometimes you gotta be the gatherer if you want it to happen. I’m brewing up a brunch potluck later this month & im forcing myself kicking and screaming to include a few people I don’t know that well, despite the voice in my head that’s like “why would they want to come hang out with YOU…” (see rule one!!!!!). And again, I’m very lucky to live in a very special town with social people all around, but no one is going to come along and create that culture where it doesn’t already exist. Well, they might…but you can either sit around and wait for them to appear OR you can start fostering that community for yourself. I guess the idea is to take the connections you already have and BUILD! :-) I’m happy to hear you have some friends around you already, I’d really encourage you to start holding casual gatherings and make it explicitly clear that you’d love for them to bring people along.

Oh and also, I’ve found that hosting things TOGETHER is a huge help, it’s hard for me sometimes to put myself out there as the person for whom people will be showing up— but I have teamed up with friends to take the scary edge off. Me and my best friend had a combined birthday party last spring despite our birthdays being a month apart. No one cared about that, and we had so much fun with our goofy wacky theme!! And me and my roommates are all hosting a backyard party together at the end of Jan. This is a great arrangement for me as the shy one of the trio lol. So team up, if you and your friend see a tiktok of a theme dinner, or a costume party, or a scavenger hunt you’d like to recreate, toss it out there! Throw the soup party. Throw the dress like your fave character night. Throw the movie night with themed snacks.

My other disclaimer is that I have a healthy and moderate relationship with drinking, and because of that, I can have a glass of wine or something to help me out at a gathering where I feel very scared. They don’t call it liquid courage for nothing. That’s not an advantage everyone has, and I’m not necessarily advocating for it, but boy does it help me feel less like an alien robot when I’m out somewhere. Having a single g&t sometimes makes all the difference between going into the bar where my friend is playing a show and running back to my car and driving home listening to radiohead all alone. Weed has the opposite effect so I avoid it almost entirely lol. Just pay attention to the way substances affect you if they’re rife in your circles. If you’re sober, look for people who do lots of other things other than drinking— easier said than done, I know, but that’s another reason to throw your own little gatherings— they can be dinners or brunches or movies or hikes or museum outings where there’s no need for things you don’t partake in.

Ok the TLDR of all this is a) push yourself by force to put yourself out there. This is unfortunately an iron-clad prerequisite, like it or not (and I don’t like it…). Grab someone’s number, text them first, go to your random nice coworker’s birthday party where you’ll only know the host. throw a potluck so you can gather budding connections together. b) find what you love to do and do it with others, regularly. You don’t even have to like it that much I guess— just find a way to be exposed to the same people again and again and again. c) repeat to yourself over and over and over and over again that people are WAYYYY more receptive than you think they’ll be— they’re fucking lonely! Our way of life is fucking lonely!! And they think WAYYYY more positively about you than you think they do!!! I absolutely promise. I have ABYSMAL social self esteem and am frequently floored by this discovery but it’s very true. But people want me around because I’m funny and smart and kind and unique. And they want you around for all those same reasons, I promise.

And last thing, it takes fucking TIME. it takes forever. It takes practice and discomfort and stomping all over your hard-won instincts and behaving in ways that are terrifying and brand new to you. But keep seeing people, and take the leap of being the initiator, and give it time and effort and you can do it!!!!! Again these are just the things that have worked for me, your mileage may vary! But genuinely best of luck and I would LOVEEEE to hear updates :-)

PS (I hope this (or like any of this answer lmao help) doesn’t sound condescending, it’s not meant to come across that way, I just tend to ramble. And also I tend to forget that other people don’t always have as much trouble with these social skills as I’ve had so if I’m overexplaining that’s why!! Lol) you can rehearse things in your head as much as you want and no one will ever know. I literally have small talk scripts lmaooooooo. I’ve literally used strangers to practice a method of like interviewing people to get to know them where you just continue to ask questions relevant to what they just said. and you could practice saying things like “want to grab some coffee after this?” or like “hey let me make sure I grab your number, here’s my phone!” and no one will ever know you had to practice like you’re in an elementary school play LOL. I’ve learned so many like normal person social skills just by watching gregarious friends talk to people and straight up intentionally emulating them. bc im normal…. And also intentional and borderline saccharine phrasing like saying “I’d love to have you!” Instead of “if you wanna come” or something. Ok actually I’ve rambled on for soooo long now I hope at least a tiny shred of this was helpful :-)

Okay and another quick edit SORRY. CAMPING!!!!!!!!! If you have ANY desire to camp whatsoever DO IT!!!! NOTHING jumpstarts a new friendship like a camping trip, you can like fast forward through literal months of the early stages if you can get your friend to bring a friend etc. and if not, a nice long hike, if that’s something your body’s not gonna scream at you about haha. GO OUTSIDE WITH PEOPLE IM SO DEADLY SERIOUS.

[wuxxxian]

i won't be getting over the esquire interview or the photos anytime soon and that's okay

[guzmapkmn-archive]

im sad to say im still thinking abt marrying oswald

[elegyofthemoon]

i want to change my mobile theme but also. have to make a list of ideas for what i even wanna change it to.... and even then might bug yall to pick for me bc i am! indecisive :D

[braskide]

outofcharacter. happy 22nd final fantasy x anniversary!!!! ! !! !! please think about her today.

i will be revamping my guidelines and whatnot because i miss interacting with the dashboard and writing her — i have resumed writing yuna over discord with friends lately so i wanted to go look for my old mutuals, so if i found you and you’re reading this don’t forget you’re here forever.

apropos of what i just mentioned i also want to reach out with new muses, thank you for being here!! ! you can [ like ] this post and i’ll come drop her in your askbox.

[thedeadthree]

ok ok FINEE ill make a g*ojo girlie anything for pookie i GUESS!! <3