#like there's just a lot of qualifiers I'm looking for in any potential partner that disqualify like everyone

[voylitscope]

Stucky Recs: Pride Edition

So, the original plan was to do dystopias and apocalypses as the next theme. I actually started that post. It's sitting in my drafts. But then between work, moving, and other real-life stuff, I sort of ran out of days in May. Now it's mid-June. And since it is mid-June -- and since part of the whole point of these rec lists is the theming -- I thought I'd go for Pride recs instead.

We'll do dystopias in July.

I could have done a lot of different rules/qualifiers with this theming, but, for this time/post I went with, "actively has sexuality themes as a decently large plot point." I ended up with 12 fics.

Note: As part of my personal campaign to combat the persistent idea that every great fic in this fandom was written in 2015, I'm now marking recs of fics written post-2016 and recs of fics written post-Endgame.

Canon

🏳️‍🌈 Tin Soldiers | idrilka | Teen | 19,743 words

You know what's great? Fake pop culture, fake academia, and fake social media. This fic makes such good use of all of those things and is so smart about it. I love that this fic narratively sandwiches CA:TWS. So a large part of the point here is the public perception of Steve, and of SteveandBucky right before, during, and then after the events of CA:TWS, in a world where all of that is real. The way it's done is brilliant and feels so true and accurate to life. There is live tweeting and live reactions. There are news headlines. There's fandom culture and blogging. There are social media arguments. It's just so well done. There are a lot of fics that look, at least briefly, at the public perception/use of Steve's legend in some way, and a lot of them are fantastic. I'm just so especially of fond of this fic. There's a hyper-realism to it. Plus, it includes a scene of people live reacting to Steve spontaneously and bluntly coming out on CNN. It's some beautiful stuff.

Quote:

As Michelle Mbatha argues in The Anatomy of a Sidekick, “Barnes’ transition from a partner to a sidekick marks the point at which the relationship between Barnes and Rogers becomes that of a mentor and pupil, thus effectively prohibiting any potentially »unsavoury« readings of their partnership” (121). In this sort of dynamic, one which emphasizes the much more prominent age difference, there is, indeed, no place for any assumptions of queerness or any sort of code similar to that which permeated cinematographic works of the time, signifying penalizable, “forbidden” practices falling under the censorship guidelines (see also: The Celluloid Closet, 1995). Bucky, then, in taking his place as Captain America’s teenage sidekick, becomes figuratively castrated in order to appear effectively sexless and thus avoid any possibility of coding their relationship as queer.

Moreover, the insistence upon heteronormative and ultimately exclusionary interpretations of Rogers’ relationships with Barnes and Carter respectively, both in the comics and in biographical writings, comes from the need to reaffirm the image created by the American propaganda, which constructed Captain America to reflect the intrinsically jingoistic policies of the United States, to propagate the myth of American machismo and uphold the wholesome image of the American everyman at the same time.

🏳️‍🌈Let me be buried under your name | tempestaurora | Teen | 50,669 words | **Post-Endgame Rec**

Oh no. This one. So, sometimes, my notes on fics in my rec database have sensible things like comments about tropes or moments I definitely want to point out. Other times, well -- The notes on this one say, "DOG TAGS," and also, "OH GOD." Which is very helpful of me. To myself. But I will say more coherent words about it to all of you. I imagine that fics that have both wartime and post-TWS scenes are emotionally trying for us all, and this very painful, and very beautiful fic is certainly a good example of why. There is a heartbreaking quality to the wartime Bucky POV, the during Hydra captivity POV, and the post-TWS Bucky POV that has really stayed with me. Bucky's thought processes, and his descriptions of Steve at various points, especially, are so observant and vulnerable all at once. It's also all just -- Guttingly but wonderfully romantic.

Quote:

Maybe he’d read before the light died entirely. Steve had bought him a pulp novel at the market and Bucky had been working through it slowly, dragging out the story and making it last, to make the most of the pages. He’d likely read it three times over before trading it for something else, and even then he’d tell the story to himself – mythical, magical things he’d never even thought of existing; time travel and other worlds, aliens and laser guns and space ships, exploring the stars. His eyes fluttered shut, and he just listened to Steve’s breathing, to him drawing, to the birds outside the window. He’d more than once thought that he could live in this moment forever; that he’d be more than happy to live out the rest of his days just like this one, with Steve and a crummy apartment and a warm summer day. Screw marriage, kids, and a house in the suburbs – this was where Bucky pictured when he thought of home. This was what he’d be imagining on the cold nights in Europe. This was what he’d fight to come home to.

🏳️‍🌈We wear red so they don't see us bleed | unicornpoe | Teen | 2,161 words | **Post-Endgame Rec**

This is the most beautifully tense little fic. A canon-divergent-before-canon-starts fic (I never know how to classify those. If it's AU, but Steve and Bucky still move in together by like, 1939-ish... is it fully AU? Like, yes because them as childhood friends is important, obviously, but also -- in the grand scheme of overall canon -- sort of no?) that has Steve and Bucky sitting in jail cell doing this dance of little cues about each other. This is all little words and gazes and touches; there is a conversation under a conversation in this fic. They're having this casual chat as strangers in jail, except they're also having this whole second secret dialogue underneath it where they're trying to make sure they speak each other's language. Also? I adore this characterization. I love it.

Quote:

Bucky stands up and crosses the cell in two long strides, draping himself in clean lines along the section of free bench next to Steve; he pulls one leg up beneath him and stretches the other out, so that their ankles almost touch. Turned toward Steve as Bucky is, he can watch fully the sharp, barely-there movement of Steve’s eyes flickering down to their legs, and then back up to the wall across from them. He doesn’t turn to Bucky. It’s mostly silent in here. There’s a faint murmur of voices somewhere down the hallway, the quiet, steady tick of a clock hidden from view, the various noises of the men locked up with them—but other than that, nothing. “Where’d a guy like you learn to throw a punch like that?” Bucky asks finally, when he’s spent too long staring at the delicate, fucked-up line of this man’s profile, spent too long raking his eyes over and over again down the line of his feather-soft lashes. The corner of Steve’s mouth ticks up, just slightly, just a little bit.

Shrunkyclunks

💗I just met you (and this is crazy) | littlesystems | Explicit | 41,784 words | *Post-2016 Rec*

This is one of those fics that surprised me with just how much I liked it. I certainly wasn't expecting to dislike it, but I was not expecting to love it so much, either. It's a joy, though, just a total feel-good joy. It's a fic that has Steve and Bucky pretty instantly head-over-heals for each other, something I never ever object to, and the instant attraction works so well here. I think, too, so much of what I love about this one, is that they make each other so happy in it -- like the two of them truly just get dumber and happier and more in love with every 100 or so words of this fic. So then I get happier and happier as I continue to read it. Seriously, this fic is a joy in part because Steve's POV is so damn giddy and joyful about Bucky. I love that. It's good stuff.

Quote:

“You’re a person, Steve. And if people hurt you or take advantage of you, that’s not your fault, either. You should be able to go to a bar. You should be able to hook up with some guy. There’s nothing wrong with any of that. The fact that someone took pictures is the photographer’s fault. And the fact that newspapers decided to print it is the editors’ fault. And the fact that some fuckwad decided to lie for a quick buck is his fault. You may regret it, and that’s fine. But I don’t want to hear you blame yourself again. Got that?” Steve nods. His throat feels tight enough that he’s not sure he can speak. Bucky tips their foreheads together and they sit in silence, until Steve has naturally matched his breathing to Bucky’s - slow, deliberate, relaxed, and not geared up for a fight. Bucky kisses him softly, then.

💗The Voyager | notlucy | Explicit | 76,740 words | *Post-2016 Rec*

I am a sucker for the Steve and Bucky road trip fic. A very recently arrived in 21st century Steve on a road trip with a modern Bucky? All that time alone? In those motels? That might or might not have the right number of beds? This is a good trope that we should very much use forever. This fic is such a classic sort of road trip fic. Honestly, I've never been on any sort of proper, real road trip, but I'd like to think this fic feels like a road trip -- what they must feel like, anyway. There's such freedom in the storytelling here. There's a suspended sense of time in this fic. There's a way this fic rolls along with a pace that makes sense here, in this story -- it's a pace that definitely wouldn't work in all stories, which is exactly why it does, in this one. It's lovely, it's a little bit surreal, and it stays with you long after you finish it.

Quote:

“Wow,” Bucky managed. Words were difficult when faced with something so spectacular, the canyon spread out before them lit with the slow, smoldering burn of that deep, ancient glow. “Awesome,” Steve murmured, the word incongruous in his mouth. Bucky nearly poked fun, until he realized Steve meant it literally - what they were seeing was awesome. Smiling, he leaned his head against Steve’s shoulder before entwining their fingers, not caring a whit who might see them. Who might care. At that moment, Bucky wanted to tell the entire world, because he was in love. Except it wasn’t love. Strong like, maybe. Effortlessly increasing affection, sure. But not love. You couldn’t fall in love that fast. He’d only known Steve since May, after all. It was at most infatuation. Appreciation. Fascination. Bucky was a very level-headed person. It wasn’t love. But it was something.

Modern

🌈On The Back of a Raindrop | musette22 @musette22 | Explicit | 52,215 words | **Post-Endgame Rec**

Something I love to read in kid fics is any time that thing happens where it's not just Steve and Bucky acting like a couple without being together yet, but a group of people starting to act like a family unit in every single way -- except that no one has talked about that, or acknowledged it, and technically, someone is actually still the neighbor, or the babysitter, or, in this case, the gardener. I love that, and I love this fic, specifically. Featuring this sweetest and loveliest and healthiest family forming in a backyard garden over the months of a beautiful summer. It's so domestic, so intimate, and it happens so naturally over the course of this story. It makes everything feel so perfectly meant to be, so romantic, and so satisfying. Also! One of my database notes on this one is, "SARAH," because this is a fic with a very alive Sarah Rogers, and I love, love, love, Steve and Sarah's relationship in this fic.

Quote:

Now that he’s gotten to know him, seen him with the twins, has gradually watched Bucky’s tan deepening and bringing out the grey-blue of his eyes, Steve is so wildly attracted to him sometimes that it knocks the breath right out of him. It’s how he ends up sketching Bucky again on Wednesday, from his usual spot in the shade. He makes sure to make it a PG rendition this time, including Gracie and Miles as well, so that when later, Bucky asks him ‘Hey, whatcha drawin’?’, Steve can actually show him the sketch. Bucky is silent for the longest time when Steve hands over his sketchbook. For a moment, Steve almost panics, wondering if he accidentally forgot to draw Bucky’s jeans or something, but then Bucky looks up, a look in his eyes that Steve can’t quite pinpoint. “This is amazing, Steve. Could I… Would you mind if I hold on to it, maybe?” Steve blinks in surprise. “Of course, yeah. I mean, it’s not my best work. I could do you something better if you like.” “It’s perfect,” Bucky frowns, seeming almost offended Steve would suggest otherwise. “I love it.”

🌈One for Fiction | thepinupchemist | Explicit | 6,713 words |*Post-2016 Rec*

I very much enjoy a shrinkyclinky-ish modern fic where Bucky is a disaster about the fact that Steve, like, exists. I am just so here for this, and this very adorable fic is a top-tier demonstration of that. Featuring a Veteran-turned-librarian Bucky and a barista Steve, and a lot of awkward flirting. At a library! Also featuring a lot of Bucky being a disaster about Steve, but also a lot of Steve being like, "...have you? seen? or? met? yourself? You are definitely the catch here." It's cute. They're cute. This fic is cute.

Quote:

“Fun fact about the library,” Bucky went on, “As long as no one can see your computer screen, you’re allowed to look at porn. That’s protected under intellectual freedom.” Steve raised a brow. “Interesting.” They meandered back to Bucky’s display. The night, as far as nights went, was a quiet one for the library, and the cafe was a ghost town, but for the group of teenagers with bags of McDonald’s scattered across the table and AP History books open on their laps. “Where’d everyone get their pronoun pins?” asked Steve, as Bucky pushed his stepladder upright, collected his tape dispenser, and climbed back up to finish hanging the flag garland. “They make ‘em at one of our sister libraries,” Bucky said, “Have a pin press over there and everything. I’m picking up a couple of shifts for one of the ladies over there next week; you want me to grab you some?” See, Bucky used to be this smooth. He used to be this smooth all the time. Apparently, trauma and PTSD aside, he could still be smooth every once in a while. A pleased little smile tilted beautiful Steve’s beautiful lips. He said, “That would be awesome. Do they have pride ones, too? Like your rainbow?” Does Steve like men? Steve might like men. Be cool, Barnes. Don’t be weird.

🌈Wholesale Change | biblionerd07 | Mature | 83,320 words | *Post-2016 Rec*

You know how sometimes you're the captain of an NHL team, and you're very talented, but over the years you've gained a bad reputation? And so your people all but force you to do a The Bachelor-esq dating show? And you've been having a terrible few years and feel like your life is falling apart? And also you're bisexual and closeted because of the whole NHL thing? And also the camera guy on that dating show is your long-lost very attractive best friend? Who also used to play hockey? Look, this fic has a ridiculous premise. In the best possible way. It's a delightfully ridiculous premise. It's so much fun. There's literally a dating show. Steve gets mad about dating show manipulations and lies! And, you know, Steve definitely ends up selecting one of the dating show contestants. Steve definitely does not fall for Bucky instead! Steve definitely does not purposefully out himself on live TV. Steve absolutely follows the rules and sees the dating show contract through! Because as we all know, Steve Rogers follows rules and does what people with authority tell him to do. Always and at all times. So much fun. So delightful.

Quote:

“I’m so tired of lying,” Steve says. He almost sags with the weight of it all, now that’s admitted it. He was trying so hard to outrun it all. Outskate it all, maybe. But he’s been losing for a long time now. “I know,” Bucky murmurs. “I’m sorry. But I don’t think letting him tell the world is going to make you feel any better. You need to tell the truth on your own terms.” Steve sighs and leans his shoulder against Bucky’s. “I’ll talk to whoever I pick,” he says. They deserve that, at least. He doesn’t want to pick someone under false pretenses. Falser, anyway. “You won’t get much alone time,” Bucky warns. “But I’m sure you can find a way.” “Nothing gets in Captain America’s way when his mind’s made up,” Steve says in his cheesy commercial voice. It was a line from some ad campaign he did for a sports drink he didn’t even like. Bucky snorts. “I was thinking more about Steve Rogers,” Bucky says. “That asshole’s unstoppable.” And after a line like that? All Steve can do is kiss him.

🌈Songbird | chicklette | Explicit | 70,843 words | **Post-Endgame Rec**

I am very fond of this fic. It's music industry closeting -- but then planned sexuality revealing. Through lies. This is a fic that starts off with what should have been a one-night stand -- a great one, as one-night stands go, but a one-night stand. Except, pictures are taken of them very early the next morning, hugging, in front of Steve's apartment. And Bucky is very famous and very not out. Bucky's already got a damaged reputation and a host of other problems, and so his team decides that, actually, Bucky pretending to date some non-famous, pretty-faced, nice boy for a couple months might do his reputation some good. So, then, as you can imagine, being Steve and Bucky, the two of them spend the fic doing a very excellent, really great, just super good job, at sticking to having a formal arrangement. A no sex, no feelings, totally-just-a-business-deal-smile-for-the-camera-thing. They're total pros at it, okay? It goes so well for them. They definitely succeed. Just because, whatever, they quickly become friends and get close, it's totally still fine. They're definitely still doing really amazing at this, alright? They've got it under control. They're not going to crack on any of this. No sex. No not-for-the-cameras-kissing. No feelings. No one will cry at any point. Nope. They're So Good at this. Like I said, I'm super fond of this one.

Quote:

Steve smiles, his face going all soft and sweet, and it’s like a knife to Bucky’s heart. Ten more weeks, and someone else gets all those smiles. It’s a Goddamned shame, is what it is. His thoughts are uncomfortable enough that Bucky gets up and goes to the railing, looking back out over Manhattan. All the people there, living their lives, day in and day out. How many broken hearts is he looking at right now? How many people starry-eyed with new love? How many people, he wonders, comfortable in an old love, one that’s solid and still growing, deeply rooted, secure enough to be safe, but fresh enough to still bloom? “Penny for your thoughts,” Steve says, and Bucky tilts his head to look at him. “There’s a million love songs happening right now, just waiting for someone to write them.” “That’s awful hopeful, coming from you.” Bucky chuckles. “Nah, I was just wondering how many people we’re looking at right now with broken hearts.”

🌈Strong Saftey | queenmab_scherzo | Mature | 23,043 words

As a first note here, I will point out that this fic is a sequel to Targeting, and it is probably most satisfying when read with full context. But I really do think it can absolutely be read on its own. I really, really appreciate and love the way this fic handles Bucky and trauma. (the Targeting 'verse mirrors canon very closely, re: bad things happening to Bucky. Except that it's about college football.) Bucky's headspace here, and the way that then translates to his actual dialogue/actions is so, so well done. Plus, Steve and Bucky are preestablished in this fic, and it's healthy and lovely and romantic and makes me emotional-- Bucky is so hard on himself about everything, all the time, but he's got Steve, who is wonderfully loving and supportive. Also! Bucky befriends a cat. Also! Bucky legitimately has Steve saved in his phone like this: "Punk ❤️."

Quote:

"Vanilla latte, no whip?" the barista calls. Steve goes to the counter for his drink, but keeps his ears open. "I just wanted to tell you—I came out to my high school team last week. And, um. It's gone really well actually." "Wow," Bucky croaks. "Yeah, it just, I've been scared about it for a long time, but then you told the whole NFL, so I thought—yeah. I just wanted to say … thanks." From the corner of his eye, Steve can see them shake hands. "Wow," Bucky says again. He clears his throat a little. "Thank you. I mean, thanks for telling me." "I'm headed out to visit Oregon now, actually." "Football?" "Yeah." "Holy shit," Bucky says, candid as ever. "That's legit, man. Good luck." "Thank you." The kid starts to turn away, then adds: "For everything." When Steve goes back to Bucky's side, Bucky is staring into the paper bag at his donut. He sniffs, audibly.

"Are you crying?" Steve asks quietly. "No." Steve can't see his eyes through the sunglasses, but his nose is really red. It makes Steve smile. He doesn't press the issue.

🌈Rough Edges | sparkagrace @sparkagrace | Mature | 33,278 words | **Post-Endgame Rec**

Showmances and Rivals-to-Lovers on the Stars on Ice Tour! There's a lot to be excited about here. This fic is such a delight, truly. I love it. You know that post that goes, "What is a rival other than a crush you're mad about having?" Steve spends the first chunk of this fic so disproportionately angry at Bucky for incredibly minor things. Like standing in rooms or... skating. It's amazing. But then there is bonding and heart-to-hearts. Often on skating benches! And, as it turns out, those two being around each other a lot is, as always, a very, very good thing, in the long run. One that helps them both. Also! Becca texts Bucky lots of pictures of Alpine -- pictures from Alpine. Also! Bucky and Nat have a somewhat frighteningly intense friendship/skating partnership and it's all just so, so great.

Quote:

Bucky continues on the corner edges while Steve sorts through one of the color groups. He thinks he has enough to make up branches of the tree that was displayed on the front of the box. He likes it when he finds the pieces that fit together, it’s like his brain fires little electrons of glee when they slot into place perfectly. He tries not to think about the fact it’s the same feeling he gets sometimes when he and Bucky execute their twizzles in perfect synchronicity. The same way he likes the sound of their prop swords clashing when they’re choreographing their throne number. Everything seems to feel matched when he’s around Bucky lately, like they’re synced partners as much as he is with Maria or Bucky is with Natasha. Puzzle pieces. Bucky seems to be enjoying it too. The quiet as they work together to put together this puzzle that neither of them would have looked twice at if they weren’t desperate for a distraction. A distraction from his heartache, from Bucky’s boredom… from the way that Bucky keeps looking over at him, from how he wishes they were doing this under different circumstances.

🌈Right where we are | steveandbucky | Teen | 10,395 words

This is actually the first fic in a whole 'verse, and they're all super sweet and super lovely. I really enjoy the way this Steve and Bucky build their relationship. I love seeing them get to have happier lives where they just get to be good for each other and good to each other, and this 'verse's Steve and Bucky, who do their best to communicate and who are so so cutely smitten from the gate, are great for that.

Quote:

“Hi,” Bucky smiles again, wider this time and the effect it has on Steve is embarrassing, since he can barely get out a greeting in response. Bucky looks ten times better in person. His now longer hair parted in the middle, and he has a two-day-old stubble, looking gorgeous in a navy blue shirt and dark form-fitting jeans. “Fancy running into you here,” he says as he leans closer to be heard above the music. Steve gets a waft of cologne, a sharp and somewhat sweet scent that draws him in as he briefly leans in to speak close to Bucky’s ear. “I’m just here with some friends, I swear I’m not stalking you.” Bucky laughs heartily, ducking his head and crinkling his nose as he does. It’s the cutest thing Steve’s ever seen, and fuck if he wouldn’t spend every minute of every day trying to get Bucky to laugh like that again. “Didn’t think you were stalking me. But what a coincidence, huh?” Bucky says, still grinning. “Nice to finally meet you, Steve Rogers.”

Bonus:

So, this is WIP, and I haven't started reading it yet. But! From everything I know about it, it absolutely fits what I'm going for on this rec list. Also, I've loved every other fic by @zenaidamacrouras1 that I've read. So while I can't actually rec something without reading it, I did feel like this should be in this post somewhere:

Unpredictable Synchronicity | Zenaidamacrouras1 | Mature | 106,788 words (WIP)

Second bonus:

These are fics that 100 percent should/would be on this list, except that I literally just rec'd them in my Brooklyn stories post. They are wonderful for all reasons described in the Brooklyn post:

Three White Horses | magdaliny | Mature | 16,601 words

Not In The Answer But The Question |  aimmyarrowshigh @aimmyarrowshigh | Teen | 27,382 Words

Ill With Want | thedoubteriswise | Mature | 26,999 words

This turned into a very long post, but that feels fitting. Happy Pride! 🌈

Like I said, next up will be dystopias, apocalypses, etc.

More Recs

#SteveBucky #Stucky fic #Stucky Fic rec #Fic recs #Fic Rec Series #me rambling about other people's writing

[mbti-notes]

Anon wrote:

Hi, hope you're okay. Enfj 26/F. I have a dismissive avoidant attachment style. I dont always 'feel' positively in relationships or in situations where others would.

I would suggest that you explore attachment style with a qualified therapist, since it probably requires you to dig into your past to properly resolve the negative experiences that produced your unhealthy attachment style. This is not something that can be addressed in a blog post with a stranger.

A lot of my friends have been NF/NT types. But in retrospect I haven't felt emotionally fulfilled by much and now that I'm looking into potential partners it's starting to make things a little difficult. I do feel as though I've been relying heavily on Ni for the past 10 years or so and all my relationships have been shaped by that. What would you advise for me in this situation. I feel as though I know what I'm looking for in someone but that seems to be informed through Ni ideals.

You mention Ni "ideals", which I assume means you set up certain (unreasonable) expectations that lead you in the wrong direction. This is indeed a common ENFJ problem, however, I need you to give me an example of how the problem manifests for YOU in your life, not just in general.

I've been trying to work on my emotional awareness/intelligence through resources but I feel like I keep hitting a wall. I would really appreciate your advice.

Explain in more detail: What is the goal of working on emotional awareness/intelligence exactly? The solution should fit the problem. If the problem is Ni development, how is EI going to address that?

When I mentioned relationships, I meant friendships. I have never been in a romantic relationship before and my culture/family/values means I have to consider potential partners and will get chaperoned till I feel like pursuing someone properly. My family have been fairly supportive and more open than other people of my culture but I'm not doing very well because of confusion/ feeling emotionally numb. Thanks

It sounds to me that there is a problem in how you conceptualize relationships, namely, that people are just concepts to you. To put it simply, you treat people merely as objects to satisfy whatever needs/desires/goals/ideals you have. This means that your approach to relationships is quite egocentric, mostly focused on you and what you want. Can you work out why this approach to friendship doesn't work? If not, try to view it from their perspective.

Let's say someone tries to befriend you. They are warm, friendly, and charming even. Yet, when they talk, it's only focused on their ideas; when they ask questions, they're only looking for specific answers to launch their next point; when they listen, they only hear the few ideas that they are interested in and ignore the rest of what you said. How would it feel to you to talk to someone like that? You'd probably feel unseen and unheard.

When you treat people as concepts or objects or only a means to an end, you ignore their humanity. There is no feeling of connection because there is no acknowledgement of any feelings. You don't see or acknowledge how your behavior makes them feel. And when someone feels uncomfortable or even ill at ease with you, they don't have the mental capacity to see or acknowledge your feelings. As a result, there is a thick psychological wall between you.

Whether it's friendship or romance, a relationship can only start on the right foot when you come from a place of openness, trust, understanding, and giving -> the ingredients for love. You have to step up to give people what you hope to get in return. If you want to be heard, you have to listen. If you want to be understood, you have to understand. If you want to be loved, you have to give love. But you can't give to people just because you want something from them. That's merely a transaction, not love. You should give to someone because you appreciate who they are, you care about them and what happens to them, and you want to play an integral part in making them happy.

When you are dismissive and avoidant, you're not giving the love that you hope to get. Rather, you're actively running away from love because you fear the effect it might have on you. Improving EI would make a difference here because it would help you process your fears properly. If you grew up with dismissive or avoidant parents, it's likely that you're deeply afraid of being loved and thus aren't even able to accept love when it's offered to you. Why? Because, to you, love primarily means loss or rejection, so you've turned off your feelings to protect yourself from feeling hurt. You are basically caged by your fear. You must face your fears in order to overcome them. To be clear, this doesn't mean that you just open yourself up to everyone indiscriminately. It means that you have to be capable of opening up when the time is right, in order to grasp the opportunities for real friendship whenever they appear.

Everyone needs love. But wanting love is a somewhat different matter. Your ambivalence to love seems to be the problem. The Ni issue is only a method of avoidance. By looking for the "perfect" person to fit your ideal, you hope that they never trigger your deep-seated fears, and, therefore, you never have to confront the truth of yourself. You are deflecting and outsourcing the responsibility for resolving your fears to other people. It doesn't work because it is self-deception, merely pretending that the problem isn't there through inventing a person or a world that doesn't really exist. The price of using Ni in this unhealthy way is that you are detached from reality and thus never truly present with people, so how can you relate well with them? Your fear belongs to you. It is for you to take responsibility for resolving the obstacles that prevent you from opening up and giving of yourself to others.

Genuine question: Do you or don't you want love? Wanting something means that it's very important to you, so you must fully commit yourself to achieving it. You can't loiter on the sidelines, play mind games, or always have one foot out the door "just in case". When people see you doing an ambivalence dance, they won't have confidence that you'll be a true friend for them, so what would motivate them to stick with you? In short: If you want a good friend, the first thing you have to do is BE a good friend.

#enfj #enfj relationships #auxiliary ni #trust #expectations #ambivalence #commitment #egocentrism #relationships #ask

[lafortis]

Now good night

#btw I'm like #slowly reinstalling a dating app or two and #yeah for someone who thinks of themself as pretty easy going I'm fairly picky huh #i think the apps algorithm thinks I'm trolling cus of how many people i swipe left on #what i really need is a dating site for ppl with brain worms and leftism #at this point i just try for anyone with dyed hair who doesn't look like they do coke #in finance majors' bathrooms on weekends #like there's just a lot of qualifiers I'm looking for in any potential partner that disqualify like everyone #i mean naturally not every possible partner i could see myself with needs to have those #but naturally you're a lot less likely to settle when it comes to online dating #like i don't need any potential partner to agree with me 100% on politics #but when you're filtering thru hundreds of ppl it's as good a decider as any #anyway all that i really want is someone as smart as me or smarter #who agrees with me in every meaningful way #has had the same formative experiences as me #and is also really attractive #like is that so much to ask #(obviously I'm joking but Ugh)

[authoressofdarkness]

I saw that you're taking prompts, from the dialogue list. Can I get number 20? “I’ve never had someone taking care of me before.” for starker obviously. I'm excited, I love reading your works. Thank you in advance!

Hi anon! That means so much to me and I’m v glad to be taking this as my first prompt. Thank you 💙

I kinda want to try some new things with some of these prompts, so I’m gonna go at this with omega Tony and alpha Peter and see where it goes. I hope that’s okay with you anon and that everyone likes it 😘

Same age college AU, omegaverse, alpha Peter Parker, omega Tony Stark, some angst and some fluff at the end.

—

It’s a well known fact that Tony Stark has a shitty family.

Well, at least to anyone who knows him, it is. They know how he’ll do anything to not be at home when his father is around, to get out of the endless pressures of social events and promotional things and questions of mating and management and all of the things that he hated about being born an omega and being attached to the last name Stark to top it all off—

For years, it was just him. Some flings, mainly to piss his father off, but he never had his attention for longer than the time it took to scold him or order him around, and his mother was never much help, either. He had precious few friends growing up, never really made any real ones until college when he met Rhodey and Pepper — an alpha and a beta respectively that helped him manage things there and that were the first people to truly understand the depths of struggles he had going on at home.

And they were great friends, still are, but there was never anything more there between them. They helped him float through the first year of school, and then—

And then came Peter Parker.

Tony doesn’t hate all alphas on principle, although he is often rather tempted to try to, what with how they were shoved in his face most of his life. They were great for a good fling but most of them were meatheads. As horny as Tony was, he couldn’t allow just anyone to be close to him, nothing too get to serious, because he’s got a lot of responsibility coming down to him and he needs the right partner — alpha or otherwise — to be willing to deal with that. Not that he’s particularly interested in mating right now but he also isn’t going to allow someone close enough to potentially mark him knowing the repercussions of that.

He’s the heir to Stark Industries, sure, but he’s still an omega. An alpha will have significant legal power over him once they’re mated. And he wants to be the one to run SI, to take on his legacy, to build, to create, and to run his business, and he’s not going to let anyone stop him, even if that means flings forever.

(Not that that’s legally going to fly because he can’t take over until he’s considered qualified which implies a certain amount of stability that translates into having an alpha that’s more than just a fuck buddy but—)

It doesn’t matter. None of it matters after he meets Peter.

Peter is a year younger than him in school, technically, but biologically they’re the same age. Peter just started a bit later than most — and for good reasons, as Tony comes to find out.

He’s in one of Tony’s engineering classes and his organic chemistry class and the omega would be lying if he said he wasn’t immediately taken with him.

He can’t help it. Peter is cute, with his overgrown curls and slim form and silky skin and shy little smile and—

The other man is all alpha, there’s no doubt about it. He exudes it without even trying, but there’s a shyness to him, too. He’s not a meathead; he’s a sweetheart. From day one he’s respectful of Tony in class, kind when he sees him around campus, and that makes them the perfect lab partners in chemistry, and after knowing that, it’s just the natural choice for them to partner for the project in engineering and then—

Then things spiral, and Tony doesn’t even care.

He’s seeking the alpha’s attention, and Peter, the innocent, shy thing he is, is happy to give, to dote on Tony in ways that he would resist if they were coming from anyone else.

They’re not even fucking, but it’s intimate, so intimate that he can’t even explain it, and he loves it, scarily so. It both soothes and sets all his instincts on edge at the same time.

By mid semester they both have keys to come and go freely from each other’s rooms. It’s more common to see them together than it is to ever spot one of them out alone. The whole school probably thinks they’re a couple, and even though they’ve never made it official — and he’s never allowed himself to even come close to considering it before — Tony can’t bring himself to mind.

As midterms approach, though, Tony locks himself in to focus on his work. He doesn’t mean to, really; it’s just that hours studying slip into full nights and then he hasn’t eaten and he hasn’t left the room, even missing one of his classes because he doesn’t realize the time.

Peter hasn’t come by in days and except for the occasional check in text, Tony hasn’t heard from him, either. But they’re both busy with midterms so he really isn’t surprised. In fact he barely has time to eat, let alone check his phone, so even if he was texting him regularly Tony probably wouldn’t be answering.

Except mid terms or no, of course Peter notices when Tony misses class. And when his texts go unanswered by the absorbed omega, he doesn’t hesitate to show up and let himself in.

Tony doesn’t even realize anyone is there until he feels a hand on his shoulder. He jumps so hard he nearly knocks the chair back, and when he turns around he sees Peter, stepping back and holding his hands up in the universal “I surrender” gesture, clearly not having meant to startle him.

“I’m sorry, I knocked but you didn’t answer so I let myself in. I just— you weren’t in class, and I was worried… are you okay? When was the last time you ate?” It takes all of two seconds for Peter’s sheepishness to melt into concern, and he steps forward again, closing the distance between them to tilt Tony’s chin up, looking at the shadow stretching across his jaw where he hasn’t shaved in a few days. “You’ve lost weight,” he murmurs, thumb brushing over Tony’s cheekbone tenderly — which, yeah, is definitely more prominent than it was at the beginning of the week.

Tony’s eyes flutter and he leans into the touch for a moment before refocusing and shaking it off. “I’m fine. This is normal, Peter. I know what I’m doing.”

“Do you?” Peter raises an eyebrow. “Do you even know what day it is?”

“It’s Saturday—“

“It’s Monday, Tony. 1pm on Monday, at that. You missed engineering this morning and you haven’t answered my texts all weekend.” Surprise flits across Tony’s face at that, because — yeah, last time he checked it was Saturday, and he had no new texts from Peter, so— “When was the last time you ate?” Peter continues to prod, voice gentle but insistent.

Both aspects only serve to spark irritation in him, though. Tony bats Peter’s hand away from his face, frowning. He doesn’t need to be treated with kid gloves. “I ate a little while ago. I’m fine.”

“You don’t even know what day it is—“

“It all kind of blurs together when you’re not doing anything besides working, okay—“

“Two days is a lot of blur, Tony—“

“And just because I need a shave doesn’t mean I haven’t left my desk or that this isn’t totally normal for midterms—“

“You’re the one saying you haven’t left your desk, not me—“

“That’s not what I meant! I’m just saying—“

“I’m just saying you need to take a short break, it’s not that big of a deal—“

“I don’t need a break, I know my limits—“

“Tony, I really don’t think—“

“Jesus fucking— You’re not my alpha, Parker, would you fuck off?”

The words come out before he can stop them, and he flinched himself at the hurt on Peter’s face, the way the alpha physically recoils, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“I’m not— god, I know that, okay? I’m just trying to help you, Tony. Please, this isn’t sustainable. You need to eat. Just— let me find you something, and then I’ll leave, okay?”

Leave? No, he doesn’t want him to leave. But the only thing that comes out is a quiet “whatever,” and he watches Peter escape to the kitchen with a ball of guilt growing in his chest.

Peter is just trying to help. He likes Peter and he doesn’t want him to leave, he just— he panics, and then he snaps.

Because what if Peter wants more? What if he really likes him? And Tony is a fuck up that does shit like this when he feels emotions and has so much baggage attached to being with him and—

And Peter knows that, at least some of it. It’s been a few months of seeing each other nearly every day, now, and his family situation was never a secret.

So why is he still here? Oh god, did Tony just ruin it?

The thought, for reasons that he’s refusing to immediately think about, is almost too much to bear. He stands up, fumbling his way out of the chair and into the kitchen.

The smell hits him almost as soon as he enters, and he sucks in a deep breath. His traitorous stomach growls, loud and demanding.

Soup bubbles on the stove as Peter works at the counter, chopping up some fruits and vegetables. He’s already managed to put a few little storage containers of food together for him, and something in Tony’s gut feels warm at the sight. But it also drops — preparing premade meals most certainly means that Peter isn’t intending to come back.

He looks up when Tony enters, expression wary. “The soup was the quickest thing you had, and since I had to be here for as long as it takes to boil anyway I thought I would just—“

“Peter.” His own voice sounds remarkable calm for how shaky he suddenly feels, lurching towards the alpha at the countertop. “It’s okay. I… thank you, for this. I’m sorry.”

Peter looks taken aback by the apology. “Tony, you don’t have to apologize. You’re right; I’m not your alpha and it’s not my place to give you orders. I just… I care about you, okay? I just want to help. I know you don’t think about me that way, and I’m sorry I overstepped, but—“

“You’re wrong.”

“What?” The words draw Peter up short.

Tony takes a breath, looking down. He focuses on the alpha’s hands, watching him chop instead of looking at his face. It’s easier. “You’re wrong. It’s not that I don’t think of you that way. The problem is… that I do. And I… I’m not used to this. I’ve never had someone take care of me before. Not really, not in any way that mattered. And what I feel for you… it scares me.” He takes a little breath again, looking down at his own hands. “I want you to be my alpha, Peter. But I’m not really a good omega, and I just have so much shit that comes along with being with me. The thought of asking you to do that… what that could do to us… I just don’t think I could handle that.”

He hears the knife ting against the countertop as Peter sets it down, and the pitter patter of footsteps as the alpha crosses the room. He’s suddenly being drawn into a pair of lanky but surprisingly strong arms, surrounded by the musky, relaxing scent of alpha, and he practically melts into it, nestling his nose into the spot between the collar of Peter’s sweatshirt and his throat almost automatically.

Peter’s hand running up and down his back is soothing, relaxing him the rest of the way, and the press of the alpha’s chin against his head is just the perfect weight to be comfortable, reassuring.

“Tony… I’m not an idiot,” he says gently. “I know who you are. What you’ve done, where you came from, what’s expected of you — and yeah, I’m sure there’s more that you haven’t told me and that’s not public, but— I get why this is a struggle for you, and why you feel the need to put so much pressure on yourself. There’s nothing wrong with you for that and it is most definitely not your own fault that you’re not used to being taken care of. And you’ve no idea how badly or how long I’ve wanted to be your alpha.” He pulls back a little to look down at him, fingers scratching Tony’s scalp gently as he works his fingers through his hair. “But that doesn’t mean that this kind of behavior — towards yourself or others — is good or acceptable. It’s okay to let me take care of you — at least in small ways. I know you’re scared of losing your independence, but that’s not what I want for you, either. I just want to help.”

“Help,” Tony echoes, eyes drifting to the pan on the stove and then back to Peter. “I… I think I’d like that.” He bites his lip, looking up at him. They’re about the same size and height, but this close, wrapped in the alpha’s arms and scent, with his steady gaze on him, he can’t help but feel small by comparison. “You really want to be my alpha?”

“Only if you want me to be, but…” Peter looks down at him and cracks his shy little smile. “I’d like to try, if you’d let me.”

“I’d like that,” Tony admits. He shifts to press up against him, putting a hand on his chest. “I’d also really like it if you’d kiss me.”

Peter looks a little surprised, but not unpleasantly. Still, he shakes his head, giving him a little push back. “Tony, you didn’t even know what day it was. God knows when the last time you brushed your teeth is. No offense, but… ew.”

Tony just laughs a little, unable to help himself. “If I brush my teeth…?”

“Maybe. If you eat your food as well.” Peter moves back to the counter, finishing up the container he was working on. “We can’t be doing anything that’s going to burn you extra calories when you don’t have enough to begin with, hm?”

Tony finds himself grinning. “That’s an argument I can get behind. Literally and metaphorically.”

Peter flashes a grin in return, voice back to that gentle but insistent tone that he knows so well when he says, “Go, Tony.”

And for once, Tony is all too happy to obey.

#starker #ironspider #peter parker x tony stark #tony stark x peter parker #prompting #my prompts #my writing #kris talks #kris answers #omega tony stark #alpha peter parker #starker omegaverse #fluff

[sinswithpleasure]

I was looking for your take on the anon's "small problem" with the new writers and this remind me of my apology for "taking" your Chaeyoung FBW idea days back. Glad that I learned from it and ideas that are not patented can't be an issue of who's copying and who's not. In real life people fuck in common places with common routines (kitchen foreplay before mirror sex). You can't accuse them copying your idea just because they had the same place and routine as you and your partner. If we're going to pull the "originality" card then everyone will not qualify because it boils down to one concept and that's SEX between female idols and male readers.

On the other hand, I feel like this anon is looking for some soul from the works of the new writers and comparing it to the works of senior writers here. For me that's an unfair comparison since the new writers are still exploring their potentials and some were pushed to write because they were inspired by the senior writers so most likely their concept will be common from their inspiration.

As a reader, I tend to re-read my favorite fanfics and the surge of new writers gave me the opportunity to read each works and evaluate them if they can be added to "my favorites". If not then I will not read them again, easy.

Anyways, I know I'm not that good at expressing my thoughts to words and I'm posting here, Sins. Thank you so much and BreedingKinkSana will always be my favorite. BreedingKinkSanaSupremacy ♥️

I can be your hero horse baby.

Warning: Incoherent rambling ahead. I am willing to discuss if it doesn't make sense. I am not good with words unless I'm writing.

-----------

This is kind of what i'm talking about.

How many different ideas can there be in the first place? I know for a fact that Mint and I share the same fantasy of having someone like Jinsoul or Yeojin or Chuu in business attire, but she slowly strips it off and then yknow, we do the nasty in the office. That's something I'm pretty sure I write a lot of, and Mint has already done it (or somewhat, with the Chuu fic I prompted).

Oh hell, if we wna talk office sex - BT, Chapter 12 with Mina. The Dahyun one in the conference room. Choa and Dahyun in the meeting room. Tzuyu and Dahyun in OC's office. It's all workplace sex. Even Peach's Sin and Punishment is workplace.

At this point, nothing is original. Even if I wrote clown sex, ballooning, vore, sounding, cock chopping, etc, I can 100% tell you AO3 has it already done. I can even link the clown sex fic if I want. Hell, even the cock chopping one.

Can't really say that its copying when its an idea or concept. Now, if I went to locke's BT series and changed every name to LOONA then that's exactly what it is—copying, plagiarism. But if I wrote just desk sex then yeah that's an idea I took off of it.

Hell, even my upcoming Yves fic was inspired by AO3.

I actively encourage people to take my ideas, actually, if they check that i'm not writing it first. I don't mind having people post kind of the same stuff as I do because it's mutual learning.

Anyways yeah this is a bit of a random spiel. Ima summarize what I wanna say:

Ideas cannot be patented unless it's made physical—ie. if someone invented the covid vaccine and has it legally put under their name, I can't say its mine. But if it doesn't exist physically, I can take it and start work on it. It just has to be original. (Asmodeus is doing work on ideas ive spouted, i like that)

Everyone has shared fantasies. If you don't like reading the same shit, don't read it. It's that simple.

Reiterating that ideas aren't original at all.

If any writers see this, feel free to reblog with any thoughts (agree, disagree) and discuss. The stuff I say here only makes sense to me and idk if yall think the same???

#asks #hailthegoddessjihyo

[roscgcld]

You're studying law??? 0.0 sorry if you've answered this b4 hehehe~

I'm planning on getting into law too! Any tips???

(Just wanna add, I've been so obsessed with your ddr! Reader! Been here for months but a silent reader so sorry about that~ I hope you have a great day or night beautiful Hooman bean!❤ 💗 )

yes i am!! and that you for being a reader love c: as long as you just give it a small like and come back to read it from time to time, it makes me happy regardless.

long rant at the undercut for law students - or uni students in general!

to be honest, my best advice to you is to research depending on your qualification. I am currently enrolled in a European course, so I can only speak from that point of view.

If you want to become a barrister, what are the subjects you need to take in university? what are the requirements for when you are called to the bar? is there the need to look into internships under other barristers in advance? If you want to become a solicitor and be called to the bar, what subjects do you need to take and pass in your uni in order to, 1) save time and money to retake certain modules/private courses provided by the bar council, 2) qualifying to sit for the entrance exams. It also depends on which country you study in - so make sure you do some reading into that before the course starts!

another thing is that you should talk to your Dean/course coordinator in advance about the course. For my course, in my third year, I am required to do one semester in an Irish firm to do some intern work and can spend the next 6 months in an international country in another European country/partnering countries with my university to do 6 months abroad. The reason I mention this is because my Dean had advised me to try and balance out all the subjects I am taking. The reason being is that I do not need to pressure myself too much towards the end by taking all the heavier courses in my uni career. It gives me more time to plan out my future timetable and what i might want to look into whilst i am given the chance.

also know that you need to be super disciplined. I am really bad at this honestly. But in law, unlike other courses, there is no "hand-holding" from lecturers. My lecturers meet me once a week for 2-3 hours, have tutorials every 2 weeks, and then just assign readings to me. Between writing my assignments, doing my tutorials and trying to explore a new country with my dormmates, I find it hard to focus on my reading list. And if any law students are here, they'd know that you need case studies to back up all your claims T^T So be prepared to have to do a lot of your own readings because lecturers are not necessarily going to help you at all

i also advise to go and speak to some seniors from your course! law books can be expensive, so they can either sell you textbooks for cheaper, show you places you can get them for cheap, and what mistakes they made as a junior. it may be awkward, but trust me when i say that a lot of us have no idea what we are doing half the time haha - so try to ask around as much as you can!

law is very interesting to me, and i enjoy the aspect of arguing cases and learning about how laws are applied depending on the variables of the case. but it requires a lot of discipline and a lot of work. plus you need to put yourself out there, not only in classes but important law functions to get noticed by not only your classmates but potential employers as well. it wouldn't be the best course for everyone, but i would say join it if you are passionate about it!

i do hope this helps tho - if you have any other questions you can definitely ask me and I will try my best to answer for you! hope this helps~

#roscgcld asks #roscgcld rants #law stuff

[docgold13]

I've probably been germaphobic for a really long time without even realising it. I wash my hands so often a day, I used to have cracked, bloody skin during the winter and my hands often had a different skin colour altogether, though that is no more, all thanks to hand lotion lol. I also have certain routines and habits.

Eg, if I come home after being in a public space, like in a bus, or a restaurant, I change my pants before I sit down anywhere in my home. I don't lie/sit on my bed with any clothing other than my pyjamas.

I use toilet paper to cover the seat of the toilet before using it, anywhere - even when I was living on my own and literally no one else was using that toilet. I wash my hands after every meal, because I can't/don't want to touch things that are 'cleaner' without (if I went to bring the trash outside afterwards, I wouldn't wash them in that case). I need to know that my hands are clean before I use my own laptop, smartphone, gaming consoles, etc. (I tend to wash my hands after using the devices of other people, because I've yet to see a smartphone without a smeared screen.)

I will generally shake other people's hands, I just usually wash or disinfect my hands discreetly. I have a 'designated' finger for operating public touchscreens that I'll disinfect afterwards. The way I use public restrooms is funny too, because I want to avoid touching the tap and the door handle after washing my hands without at least a layer of paper in between. ...And there's a lot more.

If something disrupts these routines, like when I can't clean my hands right away, it's always on my mind until I clean them. The potential diseases are never a debilitating concern to me like I know they are to some, it's just that I don't want that on me. But I think that I've been able to adapt and hide my habits well enough that they don't impair me in public anymore or make me look weird.

I'm aware that the standards I have for myself are on the far end on the spectrum of personal hygiene. Idc what everyone else does in their homes, but it's a different story when it comes to my own. I have the luck that my family I live with are relatively cleanly people, but when I learnt that some guests didn't even wash their hands after using the toilet, I was shocked, disgusted and uh, it certainly ruined my mood. It was all I could think about whenever I looked at them.

...Anyway, all things considered, what does all of this qualify as?

first a foremost, while I’m a doctor, I’m not your doctor and anything I have to say in response should just be considered recommendation and not actual medical advice.

The key issue in answering your question is to what extent are you interested in changing. If you are comfortable as you are and do not feel unduly impaired or distressed by your concern over germs then there is no diagnosis. period. full stop.

The actions you are taking to avoid germs and stay clean sounds laborious and (statistically) unusual but not necessarily pathological. Psychological diagnostic is not about enforcing social norms but rather determining an individual’s wellbeing and functionality.

What your describe above would meet the clinical threshold for obsessive compulsive disorder; but only if it causes you undo distress and/or significantly impacts your life.

And while that might not be the case now, it could become the case later in life. There are bound to be things you might want to introduce into your life that will prove incompatible with this zero tolerance for germs. Pets are not always clean, romantic partners might not be up to your standards of hygiene, and having a baby can entail a near constant barrage of gross bodily fluids.

Still, all of this things are not necessarily necessary for a happy and complete life. If you are happy or at least content with the way you are then I wouldn’t recommend trying to change a thing.

If however you are unhappy or feel that your fear of germs is curtailing your life in some fashion, then I’d suggest looking into ways of mitigating the issue. Psychotherapy with a good clinician and potentially a medication like zoloft is likely to bring about a degree of relaxing on these fixations.

[frogsandfries]

It's so good to be back!

I still have this annoying cough, and now, I also have this really annoying, slightly concerning new aura. Background/tangent: I have a pretty long history of migraines--I've been getting them since I was a teen--and my dad gets migraines. Usually, they seem to come out of nowhere. At first, they were easy to figure out: Usually, they were caused because I hadn't shampooed recently enough (I used to need to shampoo like at least every three days, but covid related concerns have pushed me to work on extending that, and now I can go about seven days; I know, it really is gross by contemporary standards, but it feels important to be able to go without shampoo as long as possible just in case of any kind of further disasters or disturbances) and more often, caused by hunger.

Given that at least my dad has migraines, which gives a family history, I'm not actually super concerned about auras. I mean, my pupils having to do their job shouldn't cause an incredibly distracting visual disturbance. As in, I can't see around it. If I was driving a car, I could only drive far enough to pull into a parking lot where I would have to sit for several minutes. But at the same time, on the one hand, auras are kind of part of being a migraine-endurer; on the other hand, I don't remember my dad ever mentioning auras or visual disturbances.

All that said, that's not really what I wanted to get on about.

I've been taking advantage of feeling better every day, and the limited days between when I started feeling better and when I start, first, the next leg of training, and next, potentially, the actual job. It's really, really good money, so it's incredibly hard to say that I don't even want to try. But I'm really anxious about going back on the phones. In my doctor's notes, my anxiety is mentioned. I've hardly had any anxiety since taking time off work--but I think that has more to do with not feeling anxious to go on the phones and take difficult calls, rather than just not having to go to work. My introduction to phone customer service was brutal. Anyway--

I always come out of the office and tell my partner how pleased I am with how the project is going and how good I think everything looks and he remarked on it today, something like, is that normal (to be so proud and happy with your art)? And I responded with what I've been repeating a lot lately:

Art school may have been incredibly expensive. I may not have finished. But it wasn't a total waste. I went to art school to get a degree in some kind of visual art so that I would be pedigree-qualified to get paid to do art. But really, on the ground, I was there to learn about portraying human anatomy; I was there to learn how to continue to push my own growth if maybe I couldn't get others to look at my work critically and help me grow. I was there, personally, to be the best possible visual artist I could be. Now, I originally thought I would spend much of my studio career creating unique and lovely ball joints dolls. I actually will go out of my way to avoid drawing. I don't enjoy drawing. At my core, I'm a sculptor.

But even deeper than that, I've had this story weighing me down for over ten years. And it's time. If I don't start to draw regularly, my style is only going to continue to change, but it won't change as quickly as if I was drawing at least every week. If I don't work on the graphic novel consistently, every time I return to it, I might as well start over, since jumps in my style will be noticeable. If I don't start now, there will just never be a good time to start.

My style is mine. I've worked really hard on it. I've worked really hard to get to a skill level that I'm happy with.

And here's the thing: Telling a story with art, every single individual frame doesn't need to be a masterpiece. Just like writing a novel, every single sentence doesn't need to be perfect. It's like a YouTuber said, people are scrolling through so quickly, they won't notice that weird detail that you couldn't get right. Like, my partner keeps complaining that my protagonist's grandma's face is just super weird. And it probably is. But I don't think most people are really going to notice. Grandma only appears in the very beginning and the very, very end of the story. Or, working at the scale that I'm working at, in pixel art, for example, I just can't get good hands. They're all wonky and weird. I'm pretty sure as long as I don't say anything where anyone can care about it, nobody will care about it. They should be too busy soaking in the story itself.

So yeah. I like my style better than I like myself, and I love how every single frame looks when it's colored--my color palettes are generally really strong, speaking in terms of range of tones/shades, contrast, and so forth. Of course, with the pixel count in my frames, and the scale of some details, not every frame is my favorite, not every frame is something I want to stare at for hours. I'm no line artist, they probably won't call me to do linework for the next Vaughn epic or anything like that, but I'm really the only person who needs to see my raw linework, or work with it, and it does the job I need it to do. I think when it's done, and as people find my story, they'll be able to appreciate the story and the art. And honestly, even if no one ever finds my graphic novel, I'll still finish it for me and purchase my own personal copies of the work on paper for my own ego. I can say, hey, my first ever graphic novel took me years, and it's hundreds of pages, but it's mine, it's complete, it's a real book. I did it. And half the people I dare to show it off to will be like, how beautiful, it's a shame it never took off. Ha ha ha ha!

I think the obvious choice is to be happy with a day's work, or an evening's work. I'm actually kinda stunned that I am where I am already in the story. I feel like I kind of just stumbled and bumbled my way this far and I'm not actually ready to really, solidly start telling the story. I've worked so damn hard this year, and I hope I can continue to work as hard and fast next year.

With not being so concerned about cleaning and shading my coloring work, I have absolutely belted out frames. I went through like forty frames in what, about two months. Of course, the consequences being that it's probably going to take several more weeks to get these frames cleaned up, it's going to feel like my production is slowing down. The upside to this being, I'll have plenty of time to produce a hearty new backlog of lineworks. After all, presently, I only actually have to finish one frame a week to keep up my queue. I mean, if I produce just two frames a week, I'm already overtaking my own queue backlog. This being the entire point, if I want to confidently and stress-lessly release two frames a week next year.

There are fifteen weeks left in this year. Currently frame 044 (or 045?) is live this week; frame 075 is ready to go live right this minute; frames 076-107 all need to be cleaned. It looks like frame 060 will be the last frame to go live this year. If I only produce fifteen more frames this year, I'll still finish the year with approximately twenty weeks worth of content.

I don't know what the hell I'm even worried about.